#they may have made a bad business decision

[stale-popsicle-queen]

Plenty of y'all fans in the Watcher fandom really gonna just gloss over the fact that you were vile to these people just a few days ago.

[affableramen]

them apologising for calling you bad names

hurt/comfort, established relationships

(Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Capitano, Alhaitham, Dottore, Dainsleif, Baizhu)

Pantalone

You avoid him for the rest of the day but eventually in the bed time Pantalone meets you. He enters the bedroom with a grave expression in his eyes, eyeing you sit there on the bed with a book in your hands. Distracting, he thinks, she is distracting herself. 

“You know I didn't utter those words seriously”, Pantalone says, omitting the usual ‘darling’ on his lips. You roll your eyes and shake your head dismissively, showing him apparent unwillingness to chat over the issue any longer.

“Say”, Pantalone leans to the door, his fingers, at this moment of time, bare, scratching the roof edges of his antiquated mansion wall, “Are you deeply offended by my comment? It is but something… trivial.” Seeing no reaction from you Pantalone slowly makes his way to the bed and sits down, his body making an impact to the mattress, that being gently pressed on.

“I should have held my tongue.”

“Your tongue is poisonous”, you say abruptly. Upon hearing this, Pantalone reaches his hand to your hand and takes it in his. 

“Hear me out… Please, darling, I would never honestly speak so ill-mannered of you. It was out of stress. You are not… pathetic. Never have been.”

“Mhm. How about ‘brat’? How about ‘loving me only because I provide for the family?’” 

Pantalone closes his eyes and shakes his head. You can see how his own words inflicted upon you sting. 

“Nonsense! Not a single word I spoke then was truthful.”

“Pantalone, if I ever made you doubt my affections, please do let me know.”

You abruptly put your book on the bedside table and switch the lights off. 

Wriothesley

“Why do you keep insisting on these things? You think I don’t know them?”

“I think you’re simply less educated than me. You should understand, Y/N that in some aspects you may be less intelligent. Stupid even.”

“Less intelligent! Stupid!” 

Wriothesley covers his face and bites his own lip when he realises what unruly language he just used. 

“I didn't mean that-”

“That I’m stupid?” Your patience blows up and you decisively start strutting to the exit door of his office.

“I didn't mean to sound that harshly!” Desperately Wriothesley follows; but to no avail. You already shut your door before his nose.

A few hours after Wriothesley finds you in your two’s favourite café, of course it would be the place where you’d go to reflect on your irritation. 

“Here, your favourites”, he puts the bouquet of vivid red flowers on top of the coffee table, next to your hand, and does it with such carefulness of behaviour you would least expect from him.

You look at him, facing Wriothesley’s eyes at last and as if having your thoughts read the duke says with regret:

“And sorry.”

You take a look at the flowers, your fingers caressing the petals.

“Okay”, you respond quietly. Wriothesley receives approval from you and takes a seat, his attitude nothing but amiable, a far cry from his roughness in the morning.

Neuvillette

“I told you that some matters I unfortunately, willing or not, have to solve on my own. There is no place for you in some of my business, because you’re just one weak-” Neuvillette holds his tongue, realising how personally offensive the words he said sounded. How villainous he suddenly appeared before you.

“Human? Yeah, I know. But me being human doesn't mean I can’t think and analyse, and there’s no way I’d approve the responsibility you’re about to take on yourself. I strictly dissgree.”

“Strictly disagree?” Neuvillette does not believe his ears, for you had always been a quiet amd obedient one, quite agreeable and supportive of his opinions. Yet this time you could not stay silent, seeing how your precious husband puts himself in danger for the hundredth time.

“You are to not take on that mission, are we clear, Neuvillette? And I am not weak, neither am I dumb or uninformed.”

In awe, Neuvillette stands there, looking at you. At last he takes one careful step closer, his hand in his hair, pulling it back as he’s thinking on something with raw intensity.

“If my wife is ready to convince me so much to not do something, if she finds my impulses false, then I will do my best to refrain. Knowing how worried you might be for me, perhaps it would be wise to reject the mission first and utmost.”

You nod, your face grave, uninterested as you turn away from him and walk out of his office. Only then Neuvillette stops you, his wrist tightly on yours. 

“Please, beloved, if you could forgive me for my poor choice of words and underestimating your judgment.”

“It doesn't happen first time, Neuvillette, for being a dragon sovereign makes you incredibly stiff to perceiving others’ opinions. But I’m glad if you do truly believe me now.”

“I do. Please, don't stay furious and frustrated for long.” 

You finally smile, forgiving your dragon husband as you make haste to leave the court, otherwise dramatic Fontainian society that loves gossiping and tragedy so much, will turn your little banter into a lavish scandal.

Tartaglia

“Peanut, I just said that you can’t fight as hard as I do, I didn't mean it in a bad way.”

“Of course, Ajax. You meant it in the way ‘I’m the coolest, and you are inferior’.”

“No, no, no. It’s a misunderstanding! Hear me out, babygirl…” Tartaglia gently grips the both of your shoulders and stares intimately into your eyes.

“I just wanted… You know, I just meant…” he blushes crazily and his expression radiates sheer embarrassment as he tries to seek excuse to explain himself. “I, uhh… Consider myself a great fighter, and you are exceptionally good, too…”

“Exceptionally good?” 

“Absolutely exceptionally good, babygirl. But I am simply worried, okay? I’m scared”, he rubs your shoulders up and down, as if trying to comfort you, but in honesty it rather comforts himself. “I don’t want you hurt. So you better stay home. Training.”

“Training only, nice. I will never fight real enemies if I am constantly kept hostage in Fatui training camp.”

“You’re just… so fragile. You know what I mean?”

“Uhuh. The Eleventh considers me a weakling. Nice discovery, if you weren't my boyfriend”, you free yourself from his grasp and go about the narrow long corridor of headquarters. “I thought you would trust in me and my power a tiny bit more.”

Ajax follows you immediately, his steps agile and steady as his hand gently takes yours.

“You may come with me next time. But tomorrow, I want you safe. Okay? And please… I’d never call you weak… Never.”

“Mm…” you gently caress his gloved hand with your thumb, almost failing to see him in the dim light, but feeling his erratic breath caused by quick talking.

Capitano

“I can’t let you do this, woman. You are acting immature. You have always been a bit naïve, but this is where you should start obeying me”, Capitano says with a harsh, yet genteel aura around him.

“And my love for you, Capitano, is also naïve?”

At that moment Capitano drops his expressionless, emotionless act and looks at you with horrified glint in his eyes. He wants to comfort you, to apologise for his words but realises that was once said cannot be taken back. Oh how he wishes he would hold his tongue for a little while longer!

“I didn't mean that, woman. You know that I would never-”

He shuts his eyes for a second, a storm of overwhelming thoughts crosses his mind over and over while you are standing before him, patiently waiting for an answer and expecting your husband to provide you with a proper one.

“You are weak… no not weak; you are frail. You need protection. And I want to protect you, but I may not be able to do it in Natlan. Not when I am wounded myself.”

“Oh, believe me, Capitano, I can and will protect myself. And you know what, big guy? I don't even need your permission to come with you anymore. You will accept me, because I am your wife, and I will be by your side. Especially, when you are wounded.”

Capitano raises his hand to caress your cheek with his knuckles, light-weight.

“You are going to get yourself in trouble, love.”

“I know my limits, and I can clearly see that my husband needs me, even though he won't ever admit it.”

The raven-haired tall gracious man with impeccably sharp aura around him speaks with emotion:

“But if you get hurt, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

You stand on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks.

“Oh, Capitano, I will take care of myself just to spare you the trouble.”

Dottore

“You’re a dork, I don’t even have pity for your stupidity. You got this chemical burn deserved.”

“Said who? You’re the one treating it right now, Doctor”, you respond with a tiny smug smirk, watching how carefully and gently Dottore is working on your palm. The burn is not too big, but painful enough to prevent you from completing your tasks for today.

Dottore reveals his teeth, groaning at you, his self highly dissatisfied and frustrated. He smoothly applies a herbal-smelling ointment and covers your hand with tight bandages.

“I insist you staying home tomorrow. I will speak with Pierro and describe him the accident.”

“Surely you don't have to go to such lengths for me only, Dottore. You know, I could speak with the Jester myself.”

Dottore stabs the knife with which he had been cutting the bandages, into the desk.

“NO, he won’t even speak to you. He is very uneasy to find”, he lets out a long held sigh. “Besides, brat, I think I made it clear you need to rest at home.” He glares at you with his poisonous ruby eyes. “Primarily, in your bed.”

“If the doctor says so”, you shrug, too exhausted to argue and too grateful for his help to deny him of this small favour. “I do not mind staying in my bed for a little while.”

Once the treatment has come to an end, Dottore once again checks your hand; quickly, lightly, without a single unnecessary touch or glance. 

“Sorry for calling you a dork. I didn't mean it wholeheartedly”, he clears throat. “Though I still think your ass is highly careless.”

“I will work on it, hopefully my curiosity doesn't lead me to any other injuries”, you wave to him upon leaving the lab. “Can’t have my doctor worry too much.”

“Remember to look closer what you touch in my lab next time, silly creature.”

Dainsleif

“I think you’re forgetting how difficult it is to fight Abyss alone. I can’t believe you disobeyed me again and went seeking for abyssal hounds. This is infuriating, Y/N. I have never seen a woman act so stupidly and rashly before”, Dainsleif says roughly, through gritted teeth. His expression is grave and ominous.

“I feel strong desire to take your Vision away and lock you home until you learn to respect my rules.”

“Your ‘rules’?” You raise your eyebrow, looking at Dainsleif no less infuriated and frustrated than he is currently. “You think if you’re older than me, I have to act like your little puppet on strings who does everything that is ordered? Hell no, Dainsleif. We won’t have it this way.”

“FOOL!” He yells, his arm grabbing you tightly and pressing you against a wall. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have been hurt! You don’t know the thoughts running through my mind when I imagine you hurt; I want to burn the whole world for you.”

“Let me go, Dain. Please, this is uncalled for, you know that, right?” As you gently ask him Dainsleif slowly, but hesitantly releases your arm and takes a step back, closing his hands behind his back.

“I ask you once again to refrain from getting yourself harmed by the hand of Abyss.”

“Did you just call me a fool? I thought you were better than that.”

“For that ruthless language, I apologise. However I need your obedience when it comes to survival matters.”

Slowly, you walk over to look into Dainsleif’s eyes.

“I understand your tragedy wholeheartedly and I sincerely respect your wish to protect me, but you need to understand that my fighting skills are not low anymore, I can be efficient and agile.”

Dainsleif’s head hangs down, you see that he is contemplating something in the depth of his heart.

“I see”, his hand reaches out to you, even though he is not looking in your direction. Dainself intertwines his fingers with yours and speaks, much quieter and softer words:

“I’m sorry for calling you a fool. That was uncalled for”, his hand gives you a light but worried squeeze. “Just… be careful, Y/N.”

Alhaitham 

“You’re acting like a child. Your opinions are too dreamy, irrational and irrelevant”, Alhaitham speaks briefly as he opens his book and hides his sharp gaze somewhere in the middle of the paragraphs.

Having acknowledged his disregard to you with pain in your heart you throw your arms around and ask him with bright feeling which is contradicting his own manner of speaking.

“Speak about irrelevance! You are the embodiment of irrationality yourself, for guilting me into thinking that you actually care for me.”

Alhaitham stays still for a moment but a tense squeeze he gives the book in his fingers raises even more contradictory emotions between you. 

“I knew you are a difficult person to get intimately acquainted with, but your actions proved that you had at least a bit of attraction towards me. If not, then your choice of words and manner of speaking to personally me was too extreme. If not, and you are dreaded by the mere thought of me being intimately honest with you, spit it out. I don’t want you to play the romance where it no really belongs. I don’t want you to like me out of pity.”

“But I don’t”, Alhaitham finally closes the book and removes from his seat. “Your opinions and decisions make me question whether or not we are compatible enough.”

“That is because you are thinking too rationally.”

“And you are thinking too irrationally.”

“You were the one to touch my hand and hug me in a very personal way. And if I am not mistaken, you are the man who never touches anyone and is dreaded by a mere thought of being pulled out from your serenity.”

Alhaitham then shivers slightly, his body mannerisms betraying distress and frustration that is not by a long shot defined in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry for calling you these words. These are bad words, I should not be disrespecting you so”, he looks away, giving his lip a strong bite whereas finally giving you a relief: “I always thought and I still think that you are a perfect companion for me, but our opinions are very unlike.”

“So you think two people cannot get accustomed to living with each other if they have different choice of words or thinking! Alhaitham, this is laughable.”

“The only laughable thing right now is that I desperately want to hug you”, without further hesitation he pulls you into his arms, an embrace filled with warmth and dedication, while his fingers gently stroke your back. “I apologise, my love.”

Baizhu

“You are being too nosy and impatient, sweetheart. I asked you to not ask me specifics of my contracts and yet here you are - interrogating me like some sort of criminal. I am feeling pressured and most frustrated!” He throws his arms around. “Darling, if you could give me some space, I would finish what I started with no further delay.”

“Am I violating your space by simply caring for your well-being? Baizhu, your contract has gone way too far; your help to people robs you of your own happiness, can you not see it?”

“I will be most contented if you simply leave me to finish my work. I would be happy if you simply encouraged me, but I’d be even more grateful if you stopped asking me so many questions.”

You know perfectly well what it’s like to sacrifice yourself for other people’s sake however you could not any longer bear seeing your love life being disrupted by Baizhu constantly feeling sick and suffering. You want nothing more than him to feel safe, secure and well, but instead this curious pharmacist only risks more and more his life in exchange of knowledge and improvement.

Though, Baizhu did recognise your words as a simple statement of care, he only admitted it in a few days. While you were helping him sort his things out in the pharmacy, Baizhu dropped his formal act and gently touched your hand.

“Darling?”

You stopped sorting at once when you heard what he declared:

“I’m sorry, I was so rude to you speaking about my health.”

You turn to face him and notice the sincerest apology in his snake eyes.

“I just wish you’d understand that my worry for you is not intended to make you uncomfortable or distressed.”

“I do understand it now. I will try my best to not bring you suffering from seeing me suffer. I cannot reject what I had started, but I will seek ways to heal both me and you from this torture.”

The gentle confession ends with Baizhu rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. 

[lady-raziel]

idk man i know times are hard but i can't help but feel that watcher putting all their eggs in the basket that is their own streaming service is a bad call. like sure i totally get wanting a platform where you have full control both creatively and financially but i feel they might be misjudging how much loyalty non-hardcore fans might have for what they're creating. in every internet fandom there's a subsection of people willing to pay with actual money to support the creators they enjoy, and that's what services like patreon are for. but to expect that casual viewers will sign up and pay a monthly fee to get access to just watcher content when a large portion of them were likely just watching the content because it was free and accessible on youtube assumes that someone who isn't a diehard fan won't just go "oh well" and find something else on youtube that IS still free? that seems like a miscalculation to me. the massive fanbases online content creators have may literally be only possible because the content is available to anyone-- it seems foolish to assume that every single one of those fans is going to stick around once you try to upsell them.

i hope this new venture goes well for the watcher crew. I really do. but i also know that a lot of brands and startups that bank on the loyalty they earned when their product was free or low cost and expect that to sustain them while they try to do something that historically has not gone well for the vast majority of businesses. at best, they'll have halved their fanbase by alienating those who can't or don't want to pay and made it much more difficult for remaining fans to create fandom products like memes or gifs that promote their shows on social media. at worst, they'll discover in the near future the independent streaming service model is unsustainable with only the fans they have left and by that point they'll have already deleted themselves from youtube and made it impossible to come back to the level of success they had before. any attempt to return to youtube will be an admission of a critical miscalculation and i doubt many remaining fans will tolerate the back and forth. they'll have crippled their credibility, relevancy, and fanbase loyalty over a very short period of time-- and i don't know if it would even be possible to come back and still be beloved after all that.

worst of all-- if the watcher streaming service crashes and burns after they've already removed all their content from youtube, all the watcher shows are essentially going to become lost media, only accessible via reuploaders willing to risk a copy strike or if you know someone who has a copy downloaded. given how genuinely good the watcher content is in the sea of lackluster youtube mush, that really seems like a damn shame.

i hope the watcher team sees how everyone is responding and decides to course correct before it's too late and get away with only the hit to their reputation that they've already taken by announcing this, instead of pushing forward on a path that might lose them everything instead. nothing i've said here is with any hate intended toward anyone involved or those who are excited about the new service, but this just seems like a really ill-advised decision to me.

[kombuuuu]

Can you write Miles 42 where you do that one TikTok prank on him where someone keeps texting you and he gets mad and stuff and tries to look at your phone 😭

Give me the Phone.

E42!Miles x Fem!Reader

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

i’m gonna be real i have no clue what that trend is but the idea was adorbs 🤭

The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.

But you just couldn’t help it.

So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.

It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.

And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.

Was pretty much worth it.

He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.

His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.

He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.

No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.

You don’t giggle at texts.

Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.

He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.

This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.

Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.

Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.

The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.

“C’mon, Mami.”

“Hmm?”

“Get up.”

He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.

You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.

“I’m busy—,”

“Now, Chiquita.”

“You can’t make me.”

The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.

"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.

Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”

“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.

“Talk t’me like a damn child.”

“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”

“Am not.”

He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.

“See?”

“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”

“Not what I’m jealous about.”

He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.

Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.

He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.

Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.

His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.

Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.

“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”

You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.

Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

Your phone buzzed.

You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.

“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.

While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.

“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.

“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.

“You kiddin’?”

The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.

You still there?

Did he find out LMAO

BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA

i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶

sorry in advance pumpkin 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

tiktoks gonna luv this

“Anita.”

He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.

“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”

“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.

He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.

“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”

“Wha—“

You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—

—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.

“Oh, Fuck you!”

“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”

You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.

You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”

You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.

You did in fact, regret it.

—

+BONUS!!!

“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”

Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,

“Die.”

He laughed and ended the recording.

“Y’know I love you?”

You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever, big boy.”

“Good, cause i’m posting that.”

“Morales!”

—

DONE!!! HOPE I DIDNT BUTCHER IT :3

[cherbexr]

Sentinel's Conjunx HCs

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Sorry I love this sick sick man </3

For anyone who doesn't know, Conjunx Endura means spouse

Warnings: Mentions of R*pe, bad language, Slight Spoilers, Mean Sentinel

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You could have gotten paired up with this mech in two ways. Either he threatened to kill your family, or you willingly wanted to be with him (if you're continuing from the meeting headcanons).

He announced this to all of Iacon and every bot seemed to welcome you with open arms! Sure, some bots weren't happy to hear that their crush got mated to some random bot. Before this he made you polish up and look all dolly and stuff.

I feel like he might act like a good mate for the first couple of weeks, maybe months. Yeah, he has to go to the surface for a bit, but he'll probably call you or something during his "mission to find the matric." You don't know that he's actually meeting with the Quintessons.

He'll hand feed you, bathe you, make sure you have all the latest upgrades, a good paint job, hold you, kiss you, all that nasty lovey-dovey stuff.

That's only during the good times, after maybe two or three months that's when it starts to go downhill. I see him starting to ignore you, dismiss you, take his anger out on you, etc. He doesn't let you leave his golden tower unless accompanied by one of his trusted guards.

I feel like at first he'd be hesitant to let you work. He wants you to stay pretty and polished because he needs to keep up a reputation that he has a pretty Junxie. After some thought, he would allow you to work because he feels that if the people see that his Junxie works, so will they!

On the topic of sparklings, this guy would HATE having a kid. What do you mean he has to give his attention, time, and money to this dumb brat? What do you mean he can't recharge cause this stupid sparkling is too busy bawling its optics out?

!!!This is the disturbing part!!!

When he gives it some thought, he believes he should let his legacy carry on. Now what about you? He doesn't give a fuck about what you think. He expects you to just bend over and do as he says. He may even force you to do it against your will. It's one of the things he expects from his mate, to bear his children.

Yikes. Sorry.

Now if you do end up bearing his children, expect you to take care of the thing 80% of the time. The other 20% is one of his NPC guards or maids. Arachnid is damn well not taking care of that thing. If you're with the sparkling and he wants to be with you, he probably would shoo the thing away and make you wash your servos.

If you choose not to, he would get a little upset about it and keep trying.

If you're right in the mind (and not like me) you'll probably want like a breakup or something. He'll look at you and be like, "Yeah no."

And you'll be like, "Why?"

He'll look at you again and show his sweet and caring side and be like, "I just love you too much, how could I let the love of my life leave me?" (yeah we know this is bullshit)

An argument may arise and he'll bring that nasty side out we all know and love.

"I said no. End of discussion."

You'll have no choice but to just shut up and not bring it up again. Plus you have a kid, so it may not be the best decision anyway. Just know, after that conversation you're not allowed out anymore.

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Remember, these are my headcanons! You're free to make up your own or disagree with my headcanons!

Not proofread!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Isn't It Fun?

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You hum as you come up the walk of your building. It isn’t in the best location. In the dark, it’s scarier as a shadow overhangs the door beneath the awning. You reach into your knapsack, hanging from one shoulder, as you eke out the tune to Easy Street offkey.  

As your keys jingle, a shape pops out of the bushes and you scream, throwing the keyring as you turn to sprint back down the pavement. You’re caught from behind as a familiar chuckle rolls up into the moonlit sky. You grunt and elbow Bucky as you realise the trick he’s pulled. 

“Ah, why would you do that?” You wriggle until he lets you go. 

You face him and try to snarl but you’re so relieved it’s just him, you can’t help but smile. 

“Just having some fun. At your expense,” he chuckles and bends to pick up the keys. “Can I give you some advice, dreamy?” He raises your keys and holds them so one points between his fingers. “Keep your keys out, hold em like this and if some creep jumps out of the bushes, stab em good.” 

“Stab-- Buck,” you shake your head. “I can’t do that.” 

“You can if it’s life or death,” he swings the keys around to hang from his thick fingers, “here.” 

“What-- what are you even doing here?” 

“Huh. You didn’t let me ask my question first,” he huffs as he stands back and waves you past. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working late?” 

“Well, firstly, you got lots going on,” you say. “And I didn’t think of it. I’m fine.” 

“Fine, I could be a real bad guy waiting for you out here in the dark,” he taunts. 

“But you’re not. So now my turn, why are you here?” 

“Well, I was wandering by on my way to see a Buster Keaton marathon and thought maybe you’d be up for it...” 

“Tonight? Right now?” 

“I see,” he grabs the door as you opens it and holds it, “you’re too busy. Or maybe you’re too good for me.” 

You enter and he follows. It’s that familiarity that you just sort of fell into with him. He’s like a wise big brother, even if he really is older than your grandpa. It’s the most unexpected bonds that are the strongest. 

“No, not at all, Mr. Hero,” you climb the stairs as he stays a step behind, his hand on the railing right by yours. 

“Ugh, why doesn’t this place have an elevator?” He whines. 

“I thought the serum would give you extra strong legs,” you toss over your shoulder. 

“Whatever.” He clucks, “so how about it? You wanna fall asleep in the theatre with me, dreamy?” 

“Dream-- why do you call me that?” You head down towards your door. 

“You got your head in the clouds. Also, when you watch movies, you get this look in your eyes, like you’re living on screen. Dreamy. See.” He explains. 

“Mm,” you grumble. 

“You don’t like it? I put up with Buckaroo.” 

“That was once and it was a slip-up,” you unlock your door. “Fine, I’ll go with you since you don’t have any other friends.” 

“I have friends.” 

“Sure you do,” you snort and turn to give him a playful wink. You put your keys and bag down on the tall table. “You and Cap, the superfriends. Heroes and buddies til the end—whoa!” 

You hit the shoe rack and stumble, landing on your ass. Bucky is quick enough to save you but he doesn’t. He watches smugly and cackles as your cheeks burn up. 

“Not funny,” you pout. 

“Oh, it is very funny,” he approaches and offers his hand. “How’s that humble pie taste?” 

“Fine. I was being a meanie. I admit it but you got my adrenaline up. I can’t help it.” 

“Ha, yeah, that was good. You shoulda seen the look on your face. And that noise you made.” He hauls you up as his vibranium thumb rubs between your knuckles. “Ayeeeee!” 

“I don’t sound like that.” 

“You do.” He grins. You scowl and he laughs again. “You know I love that face. The day you actually get mad at me, I’ll be down on my knees, dreamy.” 

“Ugh, you are such a...” you let the sentence trail off and the dimple stays in in his cheek as he crosses his arms. 

“I’m a what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“No, say it,” he goads. 

“No.” 

“Come on, I can handle it. You know, I got hit by a truck the other day, I think I can take a few words.” 

“Hit by a truck? Bucky?” You squeal. “Are you okay?” 

“Ah, look at me. I’m fine. Not a scratch. That you can see,” he shrugs. “So what am I? Tell me.” 

“No,” you turn your nose up. 

“Say it. You’ll feel better.” 

“It’s... not nice.” 

“Come on,” he unfolds his arms and flutters his fingers at you, “I am trained in torture.” 

“No,” you grab his hands, his skin rough, “no tickles.” 

“So, tell me.” 

“Not fair,” you struggle to keep his hands away from your sides. 

“Almost...” he wiggles his fingertips a half-inch from your middle. 

“Brat! You’re a brat!” You step back, out of his reach. “Okay, and if you keep being one, you can go to the movies alone.” 

He laughs and grips his hips in victory, “wow, you know, I’ve actually never got that one. Creative.” 

“Right, well, I can’t sit in the theatre in this get-up,” you look down at your frilly plaid overall dress and white blouse.  

“I didn’t get to mention that yet. It’s a choice, as the young ones say.” 

You cringe, “it’s my work uniform.” 

“Uniform?” He squints. 

“Don’t, okay? I get enough guff from the customers.” 

“Guff? Oh, that’s language I understand.” 

“Ergh,” you stomp your foot. “You are so... so... old.” 

You turn and march away. He laughs and you turn into your bedroom. He just loves to tease you and despite your efforts, he always gets to you. At least he’ll have to be quiet during the movie. 

[dearhargrove]

Please pls pls write for Eddie Diaz🥺

Sleepover

Eddie Diaz x reader

summary You're on the way to pick up your son, Liam, but it's hard to get him to go home when he's begging to sleepover at his new friends house. Turns out you don't mind as much when you met said kid and his dad.

word count 995

tags fluff, reader simping over Eddie, kind of open ending

a/n I got this idea randomly so I hope you like this <3

part two

masterlist

“Liam!” You call out when you spot your eight year old son busy playing with another kid. Usually whenever he heard you he'd come running; with every year he turns older you expect his clinging to reduce but it never does. Not like you mind, he may be eight now but he's still your baby.

But today he just glances and waves before continuing to giggle and talk with his new friend.

You're surprised as he usually never stuck with one kid, most of the time he'd even stay by himself. It worried you, even when you figured he just preferred to be by himself and did it by choice and not because he was left out.

One of the teachers at the side shrugs with a smile after seeing Liam and his new friend.

You approach them and put a hand on Liams back before bending down and kissing the top of his head. “Hey, buddy. Did you make a new friend?”

He grins and nods eagerly, “Chris! We've been playing all day. He's my best friend!” You chuckle at the eager introduction and wave at Chris, who looked almost shy if not for the cute grin.

“Well in that case, it's nice to meet you, Chris.” He politely holds out his hand, “It's nice to meet you too, ma'am.” He says quietly and slowly. You melt on the spot and gently shake his hand.

Your son stands up quick enough to knock the top of his head into your chin, leaving you to grunt in pain as he excitedly bounces in his spot. “I have to sleepover at Chris' house!”

Your eyebrows raise as the two boys continue making plans about tonight. You don't want to be the killjoy but for one you had never met the other parents nor had they met you. Otherwise you would've easily agreed; you were just happy Liam had finally made a friend.

“Alright, boys, I'm afraid this won't work out… We don't even know if Chris parents are going to agree,” you say and pointedly look at your son who's about to pout (you couldn't resist him and you would not let him make you feel bad about making a reasonable decision).

“My dad will say yes. He always says yes.” Chris says seriously and pushes his glasses up with his index. You smile as both of them look at you with equally big, pleading eyes.

“I will say yes to what?”

You almost give yourself whiplash with how fast you turn around because whose voice is that sexy? You'd never heard anyone talking that attractive.

And surely when you look at him you basically faint. Brown hair that seemed to be a grown out buzz cut, brown eyes and white teeth with a grin that makes your heart actually stop for a second.

“Sleepover!” Liam yells and then turns shy when the man looks at him with a smile that should be illegal to look that good. “A sleepover? That sounds exciting.” He gets even more attractive in your eyes when he leans over and kisses Chris’ head in greeting. So he was great with kids too? Wow.

He then fixes his gaze on you and you do everything in your power not to fluster as he rakes his eyes over you and back up to look right into yours. “Hey, I'm Eddie. Chris is my son.” He extends his hand and you shake it before remembering to introduce yourself as well.

He smiles at you through it and if it wasn't for Liam gently clinging to your hand as he and Chris watch you and Eddie talk you'd have actually lost it.

“So these two want to have a sleepover?” The boys both yell in agreement and you laugh, shushing your son a bit. Eddie looks at you with a questioning look and you shrug your shoulders. He had something trustful about him and with the way he acted with both the kids he already checked a few boxes.

But still, this was your son and you wouldn't leave him overnight with - practically - a stranger.

“My dad is a firefighter, he will protect us.” Chris mentions and you look at Eddie in surprise. He chuckles a bit bashfully but nods, “I'm with the 118.” You hum in recognition, “I work at the dispatch center.” He looks surprised now and you chuckle as he comments, “That's a coincidence.”

After that conversation flows easy and after probably fifteen minutes is Liam who pulls your sleeve with an impatient pout. You coo and pick him up with ease, letting him wrap his arms around your neck as he sleepily rests against you.

“Chris is clingy too, I feel like I shouldn't be indulging him so much, but…” Eddie starts and you see him ruffling Chris’ hair with a fond look as the boy looks at his dad with pure adoration.

“It's hard to resist. Yeah, same here.” You hum and both of you laugh a bit.

The teacher takes note of both the kids being picked up and you start walking to the parking lot after getting the backpacks. Chris is on crutches you note and slow your steps for him to comfortably keep up.

“Sleepover?” Liam asks again after - you were quite sure - a nap. Eddie tilts his head and looks at you, giving you the chance to decide.

Wow. So far he's more than just a green flag.

“How about we do a few meet ups first?” You suggest and both boys groan but ultimately agree.

Eddie nods and after letting Chris into the car he turns back to you and holds out his phone with a small smile, “Just so we can, you know, organize their play dates.”

Your heart actually stops for a second before resuming twice as fast and you take his phone to put your contact in.

“I'll see you around.” You smile and wave, Eddie grinning too as he waves and gets in the car.

[yandereteentitans]

Save Your Life

Summary: You save Robin, only because you don't want some lowlife criminals to kill him; That's your job Pairings: Robin x Villain! Reader [You could see this as another part to Don't Let Me Down, but not a direct part 2] [Short again]

You weren't always watching Robin, even though he seemed to think otherwise. No one had time for something stupid like that- At least not with a million other superheroes/vigilantes running around that you had to keep an eye out for. The only person who seemed to always have an eye on Robin was Slade, but that was none of your business.

With that being said, there were times where you did do a little stalking on him. That's what lead to this situation-

---

He was going to die. Alone. Maybe it was how he was supposed to leave the world? He didn't know, but he didn't feel good. Though his life was about to get much worse. Especially when he saw a familiar face looking down at him.

He groaned as you crouched down to his level. His eyes may have been fucked up and bruised, but he could still see you; Annoying, troublesome you.

"Wow, you look like shit."

He huffs, but doesn't respond in any words. He couldn't fall asleep, because he doesn't trust you; Although, he couldn't stop his eyes from slowly falling.

You watch as he closes his eyes, as you examine his body. His clothes were torn and he was covered in cuts and bruises. You hoped you didn't encounter it. Though, it didn't kill him, so it couldn't have been that bad- Unless it was him...

You shook your head, before raising a hand to his face. A light glow emits from your hand, before it covers his face. You hear him groan again, but you decide to ignore it. His face slowly starts to heal, with the skin quickly healing over the cuts.

He groans again, but his eyes stay close. You stand up, slightly kicking him.

"Okay, buddy. You have to get up, I'm sure your idiot friends are looking for you. So, stop being a baby and get up; you're fine."

He only groans, causing you to roll your eyes. You look around, before clicking your tongue and looking back at him. You sigh, trying to decide what to do. But before you can make a decision, the world decides to make it for you and you hear voices- Their voices.

"I think he's over here, guys!"

You quickly crouch, before flying off, leaving him for his friends to find.

---

Robin awakes with his neck painfully stabbing him. He looks around to find himself in the tower. He didn't remember how he got there, but he did remember that you had helped him. Why did you help him? Maybe you were all that bad- No, he shook his head. You were evil just like the rest and he was sure you were trying to lower his guard. Though, if anything, this just made him more on guard.

There was a part of him though that knew you had caught him at his most vulnerable and instead of killing him you helped him. It was strange and he didn't like it. But maybe you were changing? He doubted it though. He knew you liked causing mischief, it seemed in your nature- So for you to change, it'd have to be a miracle. But, maybe one day you would change, and he could offer you a spot with the Titans. Anything could happened, he supposes, but not any time soon.

[lbcreations-blog]

Holy Mother Of Many

Summary: You are the wife of God himself. You both made many amazing angelic children such as Lucifer and Sera, one day in many of the galaxys and cosmos problems occurred, so you set out to fix the problems while intrusting your husband with your children. But what you didn't know was when leaving many bad things would happen, making hardly any good come out of it.

Female mother reader

All plotonic

proofread

Words: 1121

Masterlist

You had a relationship with the holy father God himself. You were his devine wife, the holy mother of all creations. You were together since the start of everything.

You had many devine children, one of your favorites being little Lucifer. Just seeing him when he was a baby, you knew he would have a similar personality to you. Sadly, you never got to find out due to you having to leave to do other things like glaxeys and cosmos to look after. Before you left, you instructed your husband to look after both of your creations. You then left the home you loved.

Oh, how would you regret that decision.

??? Years later

You were now working on a glaxey in your main form (which is like atleast 300ft tall) when you realized you should really take a vacay and see your husband again and all your angelic children, I mean it has been many many many many many many many years.

A few mins later, you arrived in front of heavens gates in your smol form (7 ft tall). About to walk in, you saw a blonde male at a podium. "Oh greetings, mister!" You said to the man. "Welcome to heaven ma'am! May I please get your name." The man said to you.

"Name? Why do you need my name?" You asked. "Well-" "St Peter, let me deal with this," Sera interrupted Peter and told him so while flying down from somewhere. "Yes, Sera," St Peter said, then flying away. "Wait, Sera?" You said, "Hello mother, " Sera said softly, smiling. You quickly hugged her. "Oh, Sera, my darling daughter!" You said.

You moved slightly backward so you can have eye contact with her. "Oh, sweety, you're all grown up! Im so sorry that i haven't been here!" You told Sera. "It's alright, mother," she told you. "Anyway, what's up with the whole name thing? And where's Luci? And all my other beautiful children?" You asked her.

"Let's go and talk about this somewhere else," Sera said as she telaported you both into what you assumed was her office. "Take a seat, mother," Sera told you. You listened to your daughter and sat down on the comfortable seat.

"You see Mother when you left. Father decided to sleep once i and some of the others were old enough, and he is still sleeping. When he first fell asleep, some of the oldest ones and I made a project called Earth, and we made these creatures called humans. And well... Lucifer destroyed it with childish actions. He brought evil into earth, and in turn, he created his own doman fill of that evil. He lives there, ruling the doman of evil." Sera told you.

"WHAT⁉️"

TIME SKIP

"You know what, I'm going down there to check on him," you told Sera. "But mother," Sera began "no don't even think about it, Sera," you said, getting up. "Yes, mother," Sera said, making a portal in front of the hotel for you. "I'll talk to you more once i return," you said, entering the portal. "Yes, mother," she said not trying to upset you anymore.

"I wonder why Sera telaported me in front of a hotel." You sighed. "Oh well, he's probably in there. I can sense my boy," you said, walking up to the door.

You knocked on the door, and a few minutes later, a pink and white spider looking guy opened it and looked at you in shock. "Hey uh Vaggie there is an angel at the door!" The guy said toward what you saw to be an ex angel, going by her aura, wings, and lack of halo, at least.

"Oh shoot, I'll go get Charlie you let her get comfy," Vaggie said to the pink and white spider guy. "But isn't she busy with something important with Alastor?" The guy asked. "Oh, right! I guess I'll get Lucifer and be nice to her Angel!" Vaggie said, running up the hotel stairs. You smiled at the mention of Lucifer, You were so excited to see your son.

You now sat on the couch, which the man named Angel kindly led you to sit on and wait. While waiting, who you now learned was named Angel dust tried making small talk with you. But it did not really end up well he seemed to be nervous for some reason, but you decided not to overlook it in some way.

After a few minutes of waiting, a portal finally opened. Lucifer walked into the hotel lobby and made eye contact with you. You immediately telaported to him and tightly hugged him. "Oh Luci, my son. I'm so happy to see you again!" You told him.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Lucifer asked you. "To see you ofcourse" You told him, holding his rosy cheeks and looking down at him. "I would have came much much earlier if I knew what happened to you all those years ago, but I intrusted your now excuse of a father to you and your siblings."

"Are you alright, though? I'm aware the... Fall. Was, alot," "Of course im alright Mom, i have a daughter now. " Your smile increased at that information. "I have a granddaughter?!" You asked Lucifer, squishing his rosy cheeks even more. "Indeed you do, mom," Lucifer told you. "Oh my word, im a grandmother! That's crazy so where is she?" You asked him.

"Well... she just walked through the doors right now. " You looked behind you seeing the splitting image of your son in a female form. You smiled cheek to cheek upon seeing this just seeing her. You knew the both had at least a similar personality.

"Dad, why is there an angel here?" His daughter asked. "Charlie, this is your grandmother." "It's nice to meet you, my granddaughter." "It's nice to meet you too. My name is Charlie, but you already know that, i have one question, though: how come i did not see you in heaven?" Charlie asked.

"Well, i was busy with a lot of work at that moment," you told her. "Oh! uhm! Can I tell you about this project im working on!?" Charlie asked you. "Sure ofcourse go ahead. I'd love to hear of such" Charlie bounced up upon hearing that and started walking you through the hotel with your son that Vaggie girl and what you sensed to be a smiling fellow behind he did not speak yet though.

You needed to wake up your husband and scoled him for his passed actions and Sera as well, but for now, you would enjoy the company of the Hazbin Hotel.

Taglist: @fatherlesschild2 @whitewingsh @iheartpieck @i-yuki @ilovemyths2003

Taglist ask area

-L.B Creations

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Slipped Through The Cracks

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, bruises and cuts, heartbreak

Summary: Three years ago, you married your fiance while staring into the eyes of the love of your life. Spencer watched you get married to his brother when he had the chance to stop it. He should have. Three years later, you go running into his arms because your husband isn’t who you thought he was. Spencer let you go once, he won’t do it again.

Square Filled: go through me for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

A wedding day should be special. It should be the best day of a woman’s life. You’ve dreamed about the perfect wedding since you stumbled upon your mom’s dress when you were six. You even made a toilet paper veil to go with your short white dress you only wore for church on Sundays. You should be crying because you’re overwhelmed by the happiness, not because you’re terrified.

You’re standing at the altar with your fiance but all you’re thinking about is his brother. Spencer Reid is supposed to be the one you’re marrying. He’s supposed to be at your side, ready to promise you the world. Instead, it’s his older brother, Zack. Zack is… scary. He’s dominant. He’s possessive. He’s controlling. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be but compared to Spencer, he’s the devil.

“Do you, Zachary Reid, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife to cherish and to hold, to love until death do you part?”

He squeezes your hands and smiles.

“I do.”

“Do you, Y/N, take Zachary Reid to be your lawfully wedded husband to cherish and to hold, to love until death do you part?”

You open your mouth to respond but pause. Three seconds. That’s all you’re given to think about this decision. You look from Zack to Spencer who is standing right behind his brother. Spencer is the best man. There’s so much history between you three. You love Zack, don’t mistake that, but you’re in love with Spencer. When Zack was having one of his moments, you turned to Spencer for comfort.

Spencer was the one who stayed up with you when you couldn’t sleep. He’s the one you told all your secrets to. He supported you when you wanted to go back to school to get a bachelor’s degree. He came over when you were sick to take care of you when Zack was busy with work. He always gave you an extra present at Christmas time and on your birthday after everyone else had gone to bed.

He was your New Year’s kiss every year until Zack caught you two. He wasn’t mad but it wasn’t suspicious that Spencer sported a black eye the next day. He’s your best friend and soulmate yet you’re marrying someone else. If he feels the same as you, then this last second is his moment to say something.

He doesn’t.

“I do,” you say and pull your eyes from Spencer.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Zack pulls you close and kisses you in front of everyone. Cheers erupt and music plays as everyone celebrates this new chapter in both of your lives. The celebration moves to the reception area where everyone enjoys good food, good music, and each other’s company. The first dance begins and Zack pulls you onto the dance floor. He holds you close to him and sways softly to the music.

You look past his shoulder at Spencer who is watching you two with hooded eyes. He’s always been an easy book to read but at this moment, you can’t read a goddamn thing he’s feeling.

Now

You should have seen this coming. The warning signs were always there. Even before he laid a hand on you, something was telling you to run and never look back. It’s hard to say no to a man like Zack. He wants things done his way and if they aren’t, he turns into a whole other person. Someone darker. Someone with bad intentions.

He made it damn near impossible to leave.

The second an opportunity arose for you to leave, you took it. It’s why you’re running in a rainstorm toward the one person who can make this better. Even if he can make it better for a few hours, you’ll take it. You might have a few hours before Zack knows you’re missing if you do this right. You made sure none of his men or staff saw you on your way out.

Your tears blend in with the rain so the only indication that you’ve been sobbing is how puffy your eyes are. You’re in pain but the thought of going back to Zack brings you more pain than any of the physical wounds on your body.

When you get to his house, you lean on the door frame to catch your breath. It hurts to breathe since your ribs are poking your lungs but you manage. You knock frantically on the door until he opens the door. Spencer’s eyes widen when he sees the state you’re in. Torn dress, bruised skin, and soaking wet.

“Y/N… what…?”

You fall into Spencer and he wraps his arms around your body to keep you from crashing to the ground.

“Please help me.”

Spencer looks around to see if there is someone around to make you behave this way but sees nothing. He pulls you into his house, ignoring the pools of water on the floor. He brings you to the couch and sits next to you so he can examine your wounds.

“What happened? Does Zack know you’re here? Does he know you’re like this?”

It’s because you feel so safe with Spencer that you don’t think twice about telling him this. Once you say it, he’ll be the only person you have ever told about this part of your life. Zack has everyone on his side so no one will believe you.

“He’s the one who did this to me.”

Spencer turns on a lamp so he can see you better and gasps when he sees just how badly you’re bruised. You have a black eye, there is a yellow bruise under your chin that’s healing from the last time he hit you, your arms are both purple and a sickly yellow from the different stages of bruises, and he’s sure if he took off your dress, he’d see more bruises.

“Fuck.” Spencer doesn’t curse often so you know it’s a big deal when he does. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” Panic flurries in your chest at the thought. Zack has eyes and ears everywhere. “No hospital. You’re a doctor, right?”

“Not that kind of doctor,” he winces. He sees the desperation in your eyes and sighs. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”

Spencer leaves the room and comes back five minutes later with a hefty first aid kit. It hurts when he touches your bruises but you let him try and clean you up. You know he wants to ask because you can see it in his eyes but he respects you so he doesn’t.

“Zack and I went to a coffee house before going to his work. We were in line and he was on his phone. The guy behind us started a conversation with me. It was nothing. I don’t even remember what we were talking about. He was really nice but that pissed Zack off. When we got to his office, he accused me of cheating on him. I tried to tell him I never have but he wouldn’t hear it.”

“Is this the first time?”

“No,” you whisper. “It’s the fifth.” Spencer takes some gauze and dabs a cut on your face to clean some of the blood off. He’s shaking from how angry he is. “When it happened the first time, he kept saying how sorry he was and how much he loved me.” Tears spill over your eyes. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“He won’t hurt you ever again, okay?” You nod and he continues to clean you up as best as possible with his first aid kit. “Alright, the bleeding has stopped.” He gently caresses your face. “I shouldn’t have let you marry him three years ago.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask with a whimper.

“I thought you deserved better than me.”

You cry. “You’re the best there is, Spencer.”

Don’t do this, Spencer. This is wrong. She’s hurt and vulnerable. The little voice inside his head is telling him not to kiss you but he finds himself leaning toward you. You close your eyes expecting to feel his lips. Instead, your phone ringing is what interrupts you two. You don’t have to see it to know who it is. You take your phone out of your pocket and see Zack’s name on the screen. Spencer immediately snatches the phone from your hand and answers it.

“Zachary,” Spencer answers with venom.

“Where is my wife?”

“With me, but if you want her, then come get her. You’ll have to go through me to do it. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with an FBI agent.” Zachary is flabbergasted and stutters as he tries to think of something to say. He could never stand up to Spencer despite being older. “Get a lawyer. You’re never seeing her again, you dick.”

Spencer hangs up on your husband, and you stare at him with parted lips and wide eyes. No one has ever stood up for you like this before. He looks like he is going to get up, and you grab at his arms to stop him.

“Please don’t leave me,” you beg.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls you into his lap and kisses your head. “I’m not a doctor, Y/N. You need to go to the hospital.”

“As long as you come with me. Tomorrow. Tonight, just hold me.”

“You got it.”

With ease and comfort, he scoops you into his arms and brings you to his bedroom. You’ve been with him for nearly an hour but it’s the safest you’ve felt in a long time.

x

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[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [32]- Back Alley

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Business partners don’t have to be friendly.

Word Count: 3100

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think that the divorce clause in your prenup was going to come in handy any day now.

Granted you and Bucky had a deal, and you did trust him to hold up his end of the deal but he hadn’t spoken to you, or spared you as much as a glance for almost a week now so you were slowly getting lost in your anxious thoughts.

It was one thing when you were giving him an attitude but him acting like you didn’t even exist?

That flat out made your chest ache.

“Here you go,” Clint’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he put the file in front of you and you looked up at him, then smiled slightly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” he said with a huff of laughter. “Rhett is an asshole, I’m glad you’re taking over.”

“He’s not so bad,” you muttered, opening the file to skim the page, then let out a small laugh. “But yeah. I could’ve told you he would reject this even if I offered it to him.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not enough profit on his end,” you muttered, shuffling through the pages. “And he wants to see every plan you have, A to Z.”

Clint heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“Well as I said, I’m glad you’re taking over,” he said and sat up straighter. “Nat will back you up, you know?”

You hummed, still focused on the page. “In the deal?”

“As the heir.”

That made your head snap up and you blinked at him in silence for a couple of seconds. He seemed almost entertained at your puzzlement as he leaned back on his seat behind his desk, and shrugged his shoulders.

“She talked to me too.”

You licked your lips. “And?”

“You won’t even try to feed me some bullshit about respecting your father’s chosen heir?”

“Depends,” you said. “Do you respect my father’s chosen heir?”

He let out a chuckle and held up his hands.

“He has done nothing to earn my respect,” he said. “I was willing to give him a chance—I did give him a chance and he fucked it up, as you know.”

You crossed your legs, keeping your gaze on him.

“Arthur is a legend in our line of work,” he said. “He’s the main reason why we have the truce now. That’s why I don’t understand how he made all the right choices up until the choice of heir because that…Y/N, that’s your right. I’m glad you’re making your move now.”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to make him reconsider.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You have Bucky in your corner, Steve and Sam and Nat as well, and I’m planning on supporting you the minute your name comes up.”

You weren’t so sure about Bucky being in your corner at the moment but you still smiled at him. “Thanks Clint.”

“So the only one left is…”

“Tony,” you said. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust Ian either.”

“No but he trusts my father,” you admitted. “He may not like Ian but he isn’t going to go against that decision.”

He hummed, drumming his fingertips on the desk.

“Nat and I will talk to him,” he said. “Let’s see if he changed his mind in the light of these recent developments. Just one question though.”

“Hm?”

“If your father doesn’t change his mind,” he said. “Will you take it from Ian anyway?”

That was a difficult question.

If it were Steve or Sam asking you this, you could answer it truthfully but you didn’t know Clint as well as you knew them. You had no idea if it was a bait, so whatever answer you gave him could change his opinion about backing you up, so you bit inside your cheek, deep in thought.

“I…” you trailed off. “I’m not going to start a war, but I’m not just going to lie back and take it if Ian does. I doubt anyone else would either.”

Clint nodded his head slowly.

“You two are always going to be a threat to each other, he knows that,” he muttered. “He’s an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.”

You shifted your weight on your seat, nibbling on your lip.

“Mm hm.”

“And you do realize that one of you will have to kill the other to get to the top?”

That made your jaw clench before you nodded your head, trying your hardest to ignore the churning in your stomach.

“Nat said the same thing.”

“Because she knows how it goes,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You paused only for a moment, an image of you pulling the trigger flashing before your eyes before you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “If it comes down to that, yeah. I’m ready.”

                                                 *

“I don’t understand what the problem is, your whole relationship with Bucky has been nothing but a fight so far,” Becca said as she handed you and Sarah your coffee cups. “I wouldn’t say it’s too big of a deal.”

“We’ve never had a fight like this though,” you muttered and turned to Sarah. “What do you think?”

Sarah shot you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think it was the best call to hide Rhett from him until that meeting.”

You let out a whine, slipping a little in your seat. “I had a reason!”

“Which was?”

“I didn’t—I—” you stammered. “I didn’t want him to go behind my back and make that deal himself, obviously!”

Sarah and Becca exchanged glances before they turned to you.

“And you think Bucky,” Sarah started. “Bucky who’s been trying to push you to the top ever since you told him you wanted to be the heir would do that?”

“Yeah well, forgive me if I can’t trust mob bosses,” you muttered. “My dad said he wanted me to be the heir, and then what did he do? He took it away from me. I’m not going to let Bucky do that as well, that plan has been in motion for years now, I put in the effort—”

“Should I just text Bucky you have daddy issues and be done with this nonsense?” Becca asked and your jaw dropped.

“I do not have daddy issues!” you insisted. “Sarah, tell her!”

“Your picture comes up when I google daddy issues,” Sarah said with a shrug of her shoulders, making your jaw drop.

“Sarah!”

“I mean if we look at it from Bucky’s perspective, he does have a point in feeling betrayed.”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you took a deep breath, throwing your shoulders back.

“Well you are my best friends so we’re not looking at it from his perspective,” you told Becca, making her let out a small laugh, holding her hands up to gesture surrender while Sarah sipped her coffee.

“Does he at least know you and Rhett had a full on relationship?”

“Was it that bad?”

“It wasn’t good,” you sulked while you and Isla walked out of the building. “I swear if I fail the midterm…”

“You won’t fail,” she assured you and you let out a groan, but then stopped dead on your tracks when your eyes fell on Rhett who was leaning against his jet black car on the other side of the road. A smile curled your lips and you turned to Isla.

“Um—”

“Go ahead,” she said with a wink. “I have to find Bradley anyway.”

“Tell him I said hi!” you called out, already running to Rhett and you threw yourself into his arms, making him chuckle before he lifted you up to sit you down on the hood of the car, his lips claiming yours. You heaved a sigh when he pulled back, then smiled up at him brightly.

“Hi!” you said, your fingers brushing over his curly hair. “I thought you had a meeting!”

“The meeting finished early.”

You tilted your head, pulling your brows together.

“Oh you got rid of him?” you asked. “What was he, a mole?”

He gave you a reprimanding look. “Not in public, baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making him chuckle as he squeezed your thigh, still his other hand resting against the hood beside you, caging you in while you fixed your skirt.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

Rhett hummed. “I have a plan that includes you and a bed, does that count?”

You let out a giggle, pecking him on the lips.

“There’s this party for the end of the midterms,” you said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone at a party,” he stated. “Sure thing, I can tag along.”

“Yay!”

“Before that though, have you—” he started but his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and took it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he asked while you absentmindedly pulled his gun out of his waistband to check the magazine, humming a song to yourself. “Yeah, no, I had to cut the meeting short. Our usual guys are dealing with the clean up.”

You counted the bullets, then slid the magazine back to its place while Rhett stroked his thumb over your knee, coaxing another giggle out of you.

“Great, thanks,” he said and hung up, making you look up at him as he took the gun from you.

“You’re missing a bullet.”

“It’s inside a guy’s skull as we speak,” he muttered, leaning in to brush his lips against yours and you cupped his cheek, heaving a sigh when he pulled back.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I had like three energy drinks,” you said as he tilted his head to shoot you a look. “What, it’s the midterms week!”

“Let’s have lunch in bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Rhett.”

“Should be a thing,” he mused, dragging his fingertips up your leg, making you swat at his hand.

“We’re in public!” you reminded him, making him chuckle. “Anyways, what are we eating then?”

“You’re eating whatever you want and I’m eating you out.”

You tried to ignore the fire spreading over your face as your jaw dropped.

“Very romantic—” you started but you were cut off when his phone started vibrating again, making him grit his teeth before answering.

“What, dickhead?” he snapped at whoever it was on the phone. “I’m with my girl, the fuck do you want?”

“Be nice!” you whispered to him and he shook his head slightly.

“Yeah Lucas, he knows,” he said. “I called him before I called the clean up guys. Can you handle your shit or should I come there and hold your hand?”

You raised your brows as he hung up the phone, then turned to you.

“Sorry about that baby.”

“No problem,” you said “So that was Lucas on the phone?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “He wants to know if my dad knows about how the meeting ended. Anyways, as I was saying—”

“You do realize he wants your position?”

That made him pause and he frowned. “What?”

“Lucas,” you said, leaning back on your palms. “He wants your position as the prince of Chicago and he will try to stab you in the back.”

His eyes searched yours before he scoffed a laugh.

“Lucas is as loyal as a dog,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“He glares at you the way my cousin glares at me,” you pointed out. “Whenever you’re not looking.”

His frown deepened and he thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nah,” he brushed it off. “No way. As I said, loyal as a dog.”

“But Rhett, your position—”

“The only position I care about right now is the one I’ll put you in when we get to my place,” he muttered to your lips with a smirk, making you giggle before he stole a kiss. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“It didn’t come up,” you muttered. “Besides, it isn’t as if we were serious.”

“You kind of were.”

“Debatable.”

“You need to tell him,” Sarah insisted, making you turn your cup in your palms just to distract yourself. “It’s better than Rhett telling him, no?”

“I guess,” you said. “I just don’t think he likes me nowadays.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“You two need to start actually talking to each other.”

You huffed out a breath, then sipped your coffee.

“I mean we have the therapist appointment,” you said. “Which, I don’t even know if he will show up but…”

“You are feeding false information to the therapist,” Sarah reminded you as if trying to help you. “Try to talk to each other truthfully, maybe?”

You clicked your tongue, turning the cup between your palms.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Can’t hurt to try I guess.”

                                         *

The therapist appointment was uncomfortable to say at the very least. Bucky kept quiet for the most of it despite Dr. Raynor’s efforts to include him in the conversation, and the answers he gave her were pretty curt, so it came as a no surprise when Dr. Raynor put her notebook aside.

“I’m sensing a tension?” she said, motioning between you two while Bucky bounced his leg, his gaze darting to the clock on the wall before returning to her.

“We’ve had a disagreement,” you said, making him grit his teeth.

“Y/N.”

“We’re in a therapy session and you haven’t talked to me for the last week,” you said. “Might as well.”

“You haven’t talked to each other for the last week?”

“I did try,” you defended yourself and Bucky crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the table.

“Bucky?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Don’t do that!” you insisted. “You’re angry at me for some reason—”

“For some reason?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you licked your lips, then sat up straighter.

“We’re going to make a deal with a business partner,” you said. “Bucky is angry because I know him.”

“No Y/N, I’m angry because despite us having a deal, you went behind my back.”

“I didn’t go behind your back,” you protested. “Not sharing every single detail with you isn’t going behind your back.”

“You knowingly kept me out of the loop and that’s not going behind my back?” he asked and you threw your hands up.

“Bucky—”

“Do you feel like Y/N betrayed your trust, Bucky?”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at Dr. Raynor. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah actually,” Bucky said. “We had a deal and it turns out she’s had all these plans that she didn’t let me know about. Including knowing the guy—which by the way, you never did tell me how you know him.”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat and you let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s the place for it.”

“I disagree, you were the one who started it,” Bucky said. “So? How?”

You bit inside your cheek, then cleared your throat, motioning vaguely. “We used to date.”

Bucky gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence before a dry laugh climbed up his throat and he ran a hand over his face.

“You used to date,” he said, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Of course…”

“That’s not even relevant—”

“Oh it’s very relevant,” Bucky cut you off, glaring at you. “What he—he still loves you or something? That’s why he’ll say yes to the deal? Because he thinks he has a shot?”

“Wh—no!” you exclaimed. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s completely irrelevant!”

“Says you.”

“In case it has escaped your notice, we’re married, dickhead!”

“Alright, let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said but neither of you spared her a look.

“How is it irrelevant that the guy you used to date happens to only want to talk to you or make a deal with you?”

“Because I made sure that he trusts me!”

“Yeah?” he provoked you. “And how did you do that?”

 “By being good at this fucking job, how do you think?” you snapped back but before Bucky could retort, Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Let’s continue this conversation in our next appointment,” she said and Bucky scoffed, then stood up to walk out of the office. You smiled at Dr. Raynor, standing up as well.

“See you next week, Dr. Raynor,” you said and went after Bucky, only catching up with him when you stepped outside.

“Bucky!” you called out and he turned around to give you a quizzical look. You licked your lips and stepped closer to him, not even sparing a glance at the bodyguards waiting for him by his car.

“Do you mind?” you asked him, nodding at the nearest back alley and he looked like he would say no, but he still followed you there. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms, looking up at him.

“I was going to tell you about me and Rhett,” you said and he let out a dry chuckle.

“Yeah,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as much as you trust me,” he pointed out, making you swallow thickly.

“Don’t be like that,” you muttered. “First you ignore me for a week and now—”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

Even you were aware of the petulant tone in your voice; “You’ve barely looked my way since the sit down!”

“I will talk to you when I have something to talk to you about.”

“If you’re expecting an apology—”

“Oh I know you better than that,” he cut you off. “Is that all or do you need anything else? I’m going to be late to my meeting.”

“Stop fucking treating me like one of those mob wives,” you growled and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not,” he said. “I told you. I’m treating you like a business partner. That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”

You gritted your teeth, glaring up at him in silence and he had the audacity to give you a dry smile.

“Great. See you at home.”

He walked away from you and soon you heard the car driving off. You let out a furious breath, then leaned back to the wall, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“Very well then,” you muttered to yourself and got your phone out of your pocket, then found the name in your contacts. Your heartbeat sped up as your finger hovered over the screen, but you took a deep breath, touched it and took the phone to your ear.

It only rang once.

“Finally,” the familiar drawl reached you. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call sweetheart.”

You could feel the smile curling your lips.

“Hi Rhett,” you said. “Do you have a moment?”

Chapter 33

[ashyashylee]

Jealous, much?

'-'꩜ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦) ꩜'-' (slightly yandere) I'm also doing characters I want, so if you want a certain character, please feel free to tell me and leave a comment.

Childe would be anything but sly about appearing cold and cunning in front of someone he believes to be a threat to you or the special relationship he has with you, his cute yet naive lover. Why should he share what is rightfully his? Has that man fought off every foe that

posed a nuisance in your presence? Childe has, so why can't you see that? All he asks is that you stay away from the shady man who wants all your attention for himself. Is that fine with you? Otherwise, he may have to deal with that guy himself.....You wouldn't want to be the reason he had to kill the 'just a colleague' in an inhuman manner now, would you? (He'd enjoy a good fight if that man can put up one) Until that decision has been made by him to eliminate that idiot he will be at your side all the time. Why can't you smile and laugh at him the way you do to that snob? He's not jealous! So don't accuse him. "Eh? What now princess? Me, jealous?.... Heh, I think it's him who should be jealous of how close I am to you~" Just hide it, Childe...Hide it...You don't want to be caught....that man will disappear soon... soon...no one can save him.

"Wanderer....it's just a colleague" Wanderer scoffs and looks at you with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth behind his bored frown. While he's got you pinned onto a wall in a secluded area he managed to get you in and away from that asshole of a 'colleague' he wanted to have a small chat..."Really now? You expect me to believe that lie?" the words left his mouth like a hiss and he moved his face closer to yours so you could see the annoyed look in his eyes. Moments ago (before you were captured in Hat guy's wrath) you were chatting with a fellow akademiya student. You didn't notice it but Wanderer was there too....not that you could see him, since he was hiding and observing you closely as you nodded at the man as he talked. Why were you looking at the dumbass like that? You are supposed to look at him like that, with those cute eyes that light up, and that soft smile that he so badly wanted to kiss. But no. You only just realized he was there when Wanderer harshly grabbed you by the arm and took off with you. "Does he really deserve your attention? He's a nobody...with a big dream thinking he can steal you away from me..." Under all the hate his eyes show, you can see he truly cares about you, that way his voice softens, and the sincerity in his touch. Answer the way he wants, and he'll forget about it for a while...just don't make the same mistake twice.

"Wha- Lyney!...Stop...it" You try to push him off as he showers you with an unexpected bunch of kisses and hugs. Where did he even appear from? "Mm~ Mon chéri~ I'm just showing my love for you, since when were you embarrassed by that? Hm?" He wrapped his arms around your waist as he hugged you from the back. This wouldn't be bad, not at all, you would love this....if only he wasn't doing this right in front of your colleague. "Uh, I'm not. It's just....I was a bit busy talking to someone...who is still here". Lyney looked up, he was fully aware of that rodent standing beside you, the entire reason he was doing this was to give that man a hint. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arms around you tighter. If your colleague wasn't getting the hint, you sure were. He's jealous....a rare sight for the seemingly deceitful and playful magician. While you were thinking about your discovery, Lyney coldly stared deep into the man's eyes, his small smile on his thin lips didn't quite fit. His thoughts ran wild. Where should he hide the man's body once he disposes of this garbage? Should he let the Fatui deal with him? Are you closely attached to the man? Eh, it doesn't matter if you are, the only person you need in your life is him. He snapped out of it as you spoke "Well we should be going, see you later". You waved goodbye to the male colleague and turned to Lyney with an exasperated look. Lyney just chuckled and held your cheek softly in his hand, giving you a quick peck on the nose. "That man.....He isn't annoying you....is he?"

(This was kinda a fun fic, I wanna do more but idk what characters to do)

[neostrayteez]

SOMEONE WITH SECRETS

PAIRING. lee jeno x female reader

WORD COUNT. 6.9k

SUMMARY. you have detention thanks to your temper and unfortunately, so does jeno, the boy you hooked up with last summer.

WARNINGS. smut, profanity

PLAYLIST. “gangsta” by kehlani

YOU GOT ME HOOKED UP ON THE FEELING GOT ME UP SO HIGH I’M BARELY BREATHING

The library was quieter than usual. There was almost an echo to the old clock on the wall, ticking by the seconds that felt like hours. A minute may as well have been a day in here.

You were - humiliatingly - two minutes early. It wasn’t that you were eager to serve your sentence, but political science finished a bit fast and you were actively avoiding your peers after the scene you made during lunch that landed you in here.

Their looks of scorn, adoration and worst of all, pity, were uncomfortable.

The library was empty. A perfect place to lay low and hide. You picked a seat at the second table a respectable distance from the front. Mr. Kim waltzed in, looking perturbed as ever, and called you by name.

“A whole week, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

He bobbed his head.

You were lucky not to be suspended for the outburst, but your squeaky clean record up until this point had swayed the principal in your favor.

Mr. Kim checked his watch. For a moment, there was a tiny sliver of hope that you would have the library all to yourself, serving detention alone. But then, five minutes late, Jeno strutted through the door.

“What’s up, Mr. Kim?” he asked gruffly.

You wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

Jeno noticed you, his eyes locking onto you like a sniper’s scope, and pure mischief spread across his face along with a grin.

“You’re late, Mr. Lee!”

“Well, well, well,” Jeno taunted, as if he’d not heard him, cocking his head and sticking his tongue out at you. “What do we have here?”

“Fuck off, Jeno,” you grumbled.

Mr. Kim chided your choice of language and barked, “Mr. Lee, take your seat.”

“Of course, sir,” Jeno said silkily, dropping into the chair directly behind yours.

You rolled your eyes. Of all the tables and chairs, he positioned himself there to be a nuisance to you. You expected nothing less.

Jeno leaned forward. “You know, ‘fuck off’ isn’t what you said to me the last time we were alone together,” he whispered in mocking. “It was more like, ‘Fuck me, Jeno. Ooh. Ahh. Fuck me.’”

You flushed with embarrassment and your heart dropped into your stomach. You didn’t need to be reminded of the ridiculous shit his dick made you say that night.

To your relief, Mr. Kim spoke like he didn’t hear the filth rolling off Jeno’s tongue, “You’ve both got an hour in here. No talking. No running about. Just sit and contemplate your bad decisions.”

You and Jeno fixed him with equally blank stares.

“But since I know you won’t, just study or nap. Whatever. I don’t care.” Mr. Kim pointed his finger squarely at Jeno. “Just no funny business that could get me scolded by the principal. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir,” you and Jeno said in sync.

Mr. Kim gave a nod and left, adding that he would be checking in every once and a while to ensure nothing scandalous occurred on his watch.

The moment the door closed, Jeno stood, flipped his chair around and straddled it. Overlapping his arms on the back, he said, “Never thought I’d see the valedictorian in detention.”

“You know why I’m in here,” you hissed, leaning back, trying not to let him get under your skin. Of all people, to be stuck with Jeno? This was an extra serving of penance you didn’t sign up for.

It’s not that you disliked him. Not entirely anyway. It’s just that Jeno had the ability of seeing right through you. You couldn’t fool him or sway him, like you could everyone else. Jeno had you completely mapped out after one night.

And what a night that had been.

Jeno chuckled. “I must say, watching you fuck Kylie up in the cafeteria was not on my bingo card for this semester, but it was a thrill. The judo-style throw to the ground was immaculate.”

He was tempted to add that you had permission to throw him like that any time you so desired.

You snorted, but said nothing. You didn’t feel guilty about fighting Kylie - the bitch had it coming the moment she crossed you - but fighting wouldn’t look good on your pristine record. And although you’d already landed a coveted spot at an Ivy League school plus a hefty scholarship, you were in no position to jeopardize either with your temper.

Jeno scooted his chair toward you noisily. “Why’d you fight?”

Folding your arms across your chest, you turned to finally look at him and snapped, “How many languages can you say ‘none of your business’ in?”

“Three. Now, come on.” Jeno whined your name. “We’ve got an hour in here together. Plus five extra minutes, in my case. Tell me why you leveled her.”

You clamped your lips shut.

Jeno was nothing but persistent. “Did she plagiarize your essay? Did she make fun of your clothes?” Jeno lowered his voice and asked, “Did she steal a certain boy from you?”

A bolt of anger went rushing through you like lightning. Whipping around to face him again, your eyes shone with emotions you went to great lengths to hide. “You know?”

Jeno nodded.

“Everyone knows. Don’t they?”

He nodded again, but this time, the mischief was gone from his face.

You hung your head. There was no way to adequately describe this feeling. You wanted to cry and would probably feel better if you did, but you dared not shed a single tear over a boy that didn’t love you.

The saddest part was you thought he could. It stung the most. Like getting bit and feeling the venom slowly poison you for days afterward until you finally succumbed. The bite itself was bad enough, but to languish in misery and pain? That was cruel.

Jeno got up from his chair and took the seat beside yours. He stretched his arm out on the table and propped his head in his hand, trying to search your face, but you were well-hidden behind your hair.

You didn’t say anything when Jeno tenderly tucked some of the strands behind your ear.

“Don’t lose sleep over Mark Lee.”

“I won’t,” you said roughly, lifting your chin high and forcing out the breath you’d been holding, along with the tears you successfully stifled.

Jeno smiled. Then, seeing you were no longer on the verge of crying, resumed his teasing. “I never thought someone like you would fight over a boy. It’s beneath you.”

Your lips parted in disbelief. “I wasn’t fighting over him,” you exclaimed. “I fought her because she disrespected me.”

You were telling the truth. The moment Mark betrayed you, your feelings for him evaporated into thin air. Jeno was right. You would never chase after a boy. The betrayal still stung though.

Jeno smirked and licked his lips. “Well, you definitely got your respect back, baby girl.”

You grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we hooked up last summer. Didn’t we?”

“That doesn’t mean you can slap a dumb pet name on me.”

“Not the only thing I slapped, if memory serves,” Jeno murmured darkly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. The heavy smack of his hand landing on your naked ass echoed in your mind. The memory was still fresh, like it happened yesterday, and it made you press your thighs together.

That was what frustrated you most about Jeno - your body craved him, remembering how good he made you feel.

Satisfied by your reaction, Jeno sat up, slouching in the chair. He spread his long legs, his knee brushing against your thigh, but you didn’t move away. You didn’t want to give him an ounce of submission.

If you gave him an inch, he would turn it into a mile.

You sized him up. Jeno looked a little too good with long hair, dark like his eyes. The leather jacket fit him like a glove, as always - he never left home without it, and his jeans looked ripped from use and not that he bought them that way.

Jeno marched to the beat of his own drum. He didn’t give a shit what people thought about him, but they knew better than to voice any opinions either way. Jeno lived in detention for bending people into submission with force. He didn’t tolerate disrespect on his name.

Apparently, you had that in common.

It took you a moment to realize you were eyeing him. Who could blame you? His thick thighs in those jeans warranted at least an extra second or two of staring.

Jeno was enjoying it. He smirked. “Like what you see, baby?”

“You look good,” you said shamelessly. You had history together. You knew he liked to be complimented on his body and looks. And if you fucked someone, didn’t that give you license to flirt with them later?

“Thanks. So do you,” Jeno replied, eyes lingering on your cleavage.

You started to grin and quickly turned your head to hide it.

That didn’t matter. Jeno knew you were pleased. And he wanted to lewdly elaborate that you looked mouth-watering. With your pretty black skirt and v-neck tee. Your body was strong from volleyball, where you spiked the ball almost as hard as you socked Kylie in the face for stealing from you.

Rumor had it you crushed on Mark Lee for months and his oblivious self had no fucking idea where to buy a clue. You finally had the courage to make a move on him - as much as it killed you to be the one to initiate - but after one perfect date after another, you thought there was a future between you and Mark.

Which was dashed the moment Kylie flaunted the hickies on her neck and the bruises on her thighs Mark had left behind at a party.

Jeno frowned. Mark didn’t deserve you. You needed someone worthy that could match your fire and energy, not staunch it. Someone that would protect your heart and worship your body.

Kylie would have never been able to take Jeno away from you. He was as loyal as he was fearless. Any disrespect showed to you, was disrespect shown to him.

But… you weren’t his, Jeno remembered.

His mind wandered, back to the summer. Jeno could still smell the salt of the sea as it wafted on the breeze through the open windows. He could still hear how you moaned his name and sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could still feel your fingernails dragging down his back as he fucked you in the backseat of his car.

Mr. Kim walked in then, whistling as he did. He saw Jeno’s new position beside you and the look of sheer annoyance on your face, and quirked a brow, but nothing else was amiss so he didn’t care. Jeno gave him a wave, you offered an awkward smile, and Mr. Kim returned to his office with a half-hearted warning to behave yourselves.

As Mr. Kim’s footsteps echoed further down the hall, Jeno slid his chair closer to yours, but this time, he crowded your back.

You felt the heat of him first and you shivered when the scent of him really hit you. His cologne was something earthy and clean, but curiously, he smelled like strawberries, which caught you off-guard. That was when you noticed he was chewing gum.

Jeno blew a bubble that burst with a loud pop.

“Strawberry?”

“Mmhm. Want some?”

“No thanks.”

Jeno raked his eyes up and down your body. He so badly wanted a taste of you, no matter how small it was. If you only knew he would do anything you asked of him for a kiss.

He closed the rest of the distance between you, which wasn’t much, and brushed your hair to the side slowly, leaving your neck exposed for him to begin trailing soft kisses up the column of your throat.

“Jeno...,” you said, your tone full of warning, but you didn’t tell him to stop.

Jeno slipped an arm around your waist like a snare, shifting you toward him. He was logging away every second that you didn’t push him away. “Hm?”

“If you get me in trouble,” you mumbled, but your actions betrayed your words. You tipped your head back, giving him even more access to your neck, and you reached behind to slip your fingers into his long hair. You’d been wanting to run your hands through it since you laid eyes on him.

Damn it. Why does he have to feel so good?

Jeno chuckled darkly. You were falling apart in his arms, just like you did last summer. He kissed and suckled the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and tightened his grip around you until your shoulders were flush against his chest.

There was definitely a connection. Jeno’s heart didn’t race when he saw other girls, even the ones he’d hooked up with, but any time he caught a glimpse of you, his heart went wild, taking his pulse with it.

You hummed, eyes fluttering closed. His kisses grew louder and wetter, nibbling aggressively beneath your jaw. He was turning you into mush. You could feel yourself getting weaker, running your hands over those burly arms, imagining them around your naked waist as he drilled you from behind.

In an instant, you were back in his car, feeling it rock underneath you with Jeno’s rough movements. He filled you so deeply - so completely. You felt a pleasure and release more than you’d ever known before.

Jeno was the best sex of your life; a crown no other boy had come even remotely close to taking from him.

You remembered where you were (which was not the backseat of his car, unfortunately) and why you were there in the first place (because of a stupid boy that broke your heart), and you unwound Jeno’s arms from your waist and shook free of him.

Jeno studied you, cocking his head coyly. His eyes, though clouded with lust, were also twinkling with affection. Like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“We can’t,” you said weakly.

Jeno purred your name. “You can kiss me. There’s no one here, but you and me. Just you and me.”

You wavered. He had never looked so kissable than at that moment.

What the hell was this emotion sitting heavily on your chest? Had you missed Jeno? You would never voice that though. You were no fool.

Jeno reached for your waist slowly, giving you every chance to draw away from him or bat at his hands, but you didn’t. He steered you toward him again, this time face to face, and whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

That makes two of us, after all.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” you told him, a little stern, your expression sour. “You could have asked me out.”

“Pfft.” Jeno scoffed dramatically. “Yeah, the deadbeat and the valedictorian. Very Beauty and the Beast of us. What would your friends say?”

You’d never seen him so bitter. It almost knocked you back. “You think my friends have any say over who I date?”

“Yes, because that’s why you wanted Mark as bad as you did.”

You bristled. Did he really think that little of you? Or was that jealousy talking?

Jeno kept going, pretending to swoon. “Perfect Mark Lee. Top athlete. Class president. Headed to an Ivy League, like you. Rich parents. He’s the whole pretty package.”

“I liked Mark because he was kind. Not because of what he had,” you said in a small voice.

“Sure, babe.” Jeno rolled his eyes.

Your first instinct was to get annoyed, maybe even offended, but instead, you saw right through him. As Jeno shifted away from you, you moved closer to him and asked, “Do you wanna know why I slept with you last summer?”

“Because you were horny?”

“Because you asked me to dance with you.”

Jeno paused.

You chuckled fondly to yourself, thinking back to that night. You and Jeno never crossed paths at school, but fate must have been at play then.

“I was so tired and burnt out and stressing over every goddamn thing in my life that I had to get right, and I was wondering what the hell I would do if I failed. If I screwed everything up and let everyone down. My whole family is counting on me to make something of myself.”

Jeno listened, looking at you a little differently.

You smiled as you said, “You approached me at that party. You made me laugh. You got me to dance for the first time in years. I used to love dancing. You made me forget how fucking exhausted I was for a night.”

A grin spread itself across Jeno’s lips. “And exhausted you in other ways.”

You nodded, fighting a laugh.

Jeno reached for your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek, and whispered, “Aren’t you just full of surprises, baby girl?”

This time, you didn’t correct him on the pet name. It was starting to grow on you. You bit your lip, wishing you had the courage to admit just how badly you wanted him to touch you.

Jeno confidently pulled you into his arms again, reading your mind, and brushed his lips over your cheek before kissing the corner of your mouth. You made the softest sound, like this one gentle kiss had completely ruined what was left of your resolve.

Sound beyond the door made you part from each other, sitting rigidly in your chair to avert suspicion. Mr. Kim peeked his head in, asked if either of you needed to use the bathroom, and when you both declined, he left again.

The door closed and Jeno reached for your hand. You let him, watching curiously as he surveyed the bruises on your knuckles. There were a few jagged cuts of broken skin that the nurse disinfected after the fight. She said they would heal faster in the open air, but you could bandage them later if you felt it necessary.

Jeno pressed a kiss to your bruised knuckle, then the other, carefully avoiding the cuts. It turned him on; you being strong and vicious, so hell-bent on punishing disrespect shown toward you. You had that in common with him.

It was sick and twisted, Jeno was well aware, but that was part of what made it even more attractive and arousing to him. Kylie stole Mark, not because she wanted him for herself (she wasn’t the least bit interested in him, much to Mark’s shock when he realized he lost two girls in one night with one fuck), but because she wanted to take something away from you that you really wanted.

You sucked in a breath when Jeno’s lips and tongue drifted to your wrist. He really was determined to seduce you and you were getting closer and closer to surrender. You glanced at the clock. Detention was half over now. He was running out of time.

Between kisses, Jeno said, “I don’t think Mark would know what to do with you if you had him.”

Your brows stitched in confusion.

Jeno glanced up, fire flickering in his eyes. “You’re way too powerful for him.”

That made something inside you snap. In the next second, you crashed into Jeno, locking your lips to his in a kiss that put the others to shame.

Jeno was ready to catch you, getting his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air like you weighed nothing. You held his head in your hands, tangling your fingers in his long hair, and made a noise when he set you down on the table, popping your legs around his hips where they belonged.

This boy was yours. There was no doubt in your mind. The way he kissed you and the way he held you to him, there was nothing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. To have you.

You slipped your tongue into his mouth and Jeno kneaded your hips, his hands rough as he roamed them over your body. There was a catch in your breath when his fingers slipped under your shirt, desperate to touch your bare skin.

“Fuck,” Jeno groaned between kisses, his jeans getting too tight. He settled his hands on your thighs to anchor himself to you and thrust his growing bulge against your clothed sex, feeling your warmth.

You lost track of time. And everything else. Fuck it all. There was only you and Jeno, just like he said, kissing and touching. Reckless and hungry, one for the other.

The sound of the door sent adrenaline prickling through every inch of you, but you were too drunk on his kisses to give any thought to self-preservation. Jeno reacted much faster than you did, dragging you off the table and clumsily to your feet. You managed to throw yourself into the nearest chair while Jeno - for whatever stupid reason had popped into his head - dove under the table.

Mr. Kim poked his head inside and upon seeing only one of two criminals, came marching in. “Where is Mr. Lee?” he exclaimed.

You smoothed your hair back, desperately trying to catch your breath and get just the tiniest bit of composure. Mr. Kim would raise hell if he knew you’d been making out when you were supposed to be dying of boredom.

“He, uh,” you stammered. Fuck! “He went to the bathroom.”

Mr. Kim narrowed his eyes. He was not convinced.

Your eyes, on the other hand, widened.

Jeno’s hands were running up your bare thighs, pushing up your skirt.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Kim pressed.

No. He’s between my legs. Your heart was racing out of control. Your lungs were going to combust. Jeno’s hands were on your hips and his head was between your knees. You could feel his warm breath on your inner thighs.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Positive, Mr. Kim. He’ll be right back,” you said hurriedly.

Jeno lifted your skirt a little higher, knowing you were hidden from the waist down by the table, and smirked at the sight of your pink panties. And buried his face in your clothed pussy.

“Fuck,” you squeaked out in a high-pitched whimper.

“Language,” Mr. Kim chided once again. “Tell Mr. Lee he now has to stay an additional ten minutes for taking a stroll!”

You threaded your fingers into Jeno’s hair, trying frantically to slow him down, but he was kissing your sex with the same passion and intensity as he’d kissed your lips - like he was trying to make you scream. And you weren’t far from that.

Nodding rapidly, you said, “Yes, Mr. Kim. I’ll tell him. I promise.”

Suspicion was clearly written all over Mr. Kim’s face, but you knew Jeno giving you head underneath the table was not on the list of possibilities going through his mind. Thank god.

Jeno kept a punishing grip on your hips, kissing and tonguing at your folds, tasting your arousal despite the panties in his way. He couldn’t wait to peel them off and make you beg.

When the door closed, sending a loud slam echoing through the library, Jeno quickly slipped out from between your legs, knowing exactly the reaction he was going to get.

You reached under the table, swatting at his head as best you could. “Fuck you, Jeno,” you yelled. “Fuck you!”

“You will in a minute,” Jeno retorted, grabbing your knees and spreading you apart for him again.

You fell back against the chair, gasping at how he manhandled you. “Oh shit,” you moaned as he yanked your panties to the side and dived back in.

Jeno steered your legs onto his shoulders and found your clit with his tongue. He soon grew frustrated with your underwear, which seemed to be intentionally trying to block his way. Winding his hands through them, Jeno tugged sharply, ripping your panties with ease and letting them fall to the floor.

“Not fair,” you whined, pulling on his hair in retaliation and earning yourself a moan that made your toes curl.

Jeno kissed the inside of your thigh and said, “All’s fair in love and war.”

At first, you kept your eyes worriedly on the doors, but soon, your eyes were winched closed, your head tipped back. You writhed on the chair, arching and squirming, because it had been a while since someone ate you out, but mostly because Jeno was kissing your cunt like a man starved.

Jeno slipped his tongue into your hole and lapped at your slick. He was a lucky bastard to be burying his face in your pretty pussy. You weren’t exactly an easy girl to bag. Boys were lining up around the building to fuck you, but only Jeno had scored last summer. You’d told him as much.

Had you been saving yourself for Mark since then? It would seem so, given how sensitive you were to Jeno’s mouth. He was going to unravel you in no time.

You bounced into his face, covering your mouth to muffle your sounds, your other hand cupping his head. Jeno reached under your shirt, under your bra, and palmed your breasts, which were shuddering with the rest of your body. He kneaded them and pinched your nipples, teasing his fingers around the nubs until he felt them stiffen.

Jeno shook his head between your legs, your thighs clamped tightly on him. Your pussy was fucking addictive. He knew he should stop - that he needed to stop - but he just couldn’t. He wanted to suck every drop out of you until one of you passed out from exhaustion. Or orgasm. Whichever came first, because Jeno was so hard in his jeans there was a strong chance he was going to come untouched in his pants.

“I’m coming,” you cried out, your lashes fluttering as he played with your nipples and your clit. Your mouth was dry from panting. “Jeno… Jeno, please!”

Fuck, he loved how you said his name and how you begged for him, on the cusp of euphoria. But Jeno made a disapproving sound and gave one last kiss to your perfect pussy.

Your eyes went wide, just like they had when he first started, as you watched Jeno come out from beneath the table. “What are you doing?”

“Hm?” He played clueless, much to your annoyance, and he nonchalantly swiped your ripped panties off the floor and tucked them into his back pocket.

“Why are you stopping?!” You sounded desperate, because you were. Climax had been right there, close enough to taste. You were experiencing the most powerful tunnel vision of your life, thinking only of how you could get him between your legs again to finish what he started.

Jeno came to stand over you. He sure did enjoy watching you lose your mind. He cocked his head for the millionth time that afternoon and just smirked down at you. “Who have you fucked since me?”

“No one.”

“Should I believe that?”

He did believe it actually. Jeno just liked toying with you. And with how badly fucked out you were already, the edge of your orgasm slipping away with every passing second, you weren’t exactly in good shape to lie to him.

His hesitation infuriated you, as it should. Was he implying you’d been whoring around? You got up, shoving him away from you, and whined, “You bastard, I hate you!”

Jeno grabbed you and stole a kiss in the time it took you to blink, before you could even react. But it didn’t matter. You folded into him like you had not a shred of self-respect left to your name, like he was the only thing you wanted.

“Fuck me like you hate me then,” Jeno growled, watching you expectedly. You were still reeling from the kiss. “If you wanna come, baby, you gotta do it on my dick.”

He made you crazy. You didn’t know whether to suck him dry or slap the shit out of him. He would enjoy both. You glanced down, seeing the hard bulge in his jeans, your mind filling with memories of that big cock and what it could do to you.

Jeno raised a brow. “How about it?”

You scowled. He truly was annoying as all hell in addition to being stupidly good-looking.

Jeno watched as you turned away from him, reaching for your bag and rifling through it hurriedly. And he chuckled darkly when you pulled out a condom packet and slapped it into his hand. Sex Ed gave them out by the bucket full, after all.

Delight filled Jeno’s face. “Always full of surprises.”

You squeaked when Jeno took you by the hand and started rushing toward the back of the library, dragging you behind him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, but you couldn’t stop giggling. The excitement in your chest threatened to burst you at the seams.

It should have been a crime to be this aroused by someone. The chemistry between you and Jeno was off the charts; highly destructive and flammable, consuming everything in its path.

Including both of you, together, engulfed in flames of your own design that burned hotter in your midst.

Tucked away in a nook behind rows and rows of old books, where the blinds were shut on the windows and the soft lights overhead gave a warm yellow hue, Jeno spun you around in his arms and sealed his lips to yours.

It was a passionate, almost rough collision of teeth and tongues, like two cars racing toward each other at breakneck speed. The kind of kissing reserved between two people desperate to bring one another to ecstasy.

You whimpered into Jeno’s mouth when he shoved you against the wall, forcing his hips between your thighs to rub his clothed cock against your sex. Jeno could feel the wet heat of you and thrust his bulge on your folds, hungry for friction. His tongue slipped between your lips just as his fingers prodded at your entrance.

A pitiful sound escaped you. Two long thick digits curled into your pussy, finding that spot inside you without hesitation and stroking, crooking, making your hips rock into his hand.

You wrapped your arms around Jeno’s neck and broke from his kisses to stare into his eyes. His pretty irises were almost gone, dilated to black. He was so turned on he couldn’t see straight and you weren’t faring much better.

“I thought I could only come on your dick?” you stuttered, his fingers thrusting faster into your cunt.

Jeno nodded and nipped at your lips. “Just kiss me and let me prep you, yeah?”

You did, kissing him hungrily. Every now and then, you moaned or cried into his mouth, those fingers hitting you just right, but you wanted that cock and so you kept reaching down to palm at him.

Little by little, you got his leather jacket and his shirt in a pile on the ground, letting you brush your fingers over his nipples and the sharp lines of his abs. Then, you unfastened his jeans, but couldn’t get them past his muscly thighs at this angle. Not that you cared. You were fisting his cock, pumping it with the same speed he fucked you with his fingers.

Jeno panted and moaned in the crook of your neck. “Shit,” he snapped, finally breaking.

He spun you around, pinning you to the wall, but drew you toward him by the hips harshly. You tried to find purchase on the wall while Jeno tore open the packet and rolled the condom down his length, his cock so stiff it twitched with need at the sight of your glistening pussy. You wiggled impatiently, shifting your weight as you readied yourself for the stretch, glancing over your shoulder to salivate over that big dick.

You bit your lip as he steered the head of his cock to your folds, arching your back, bracing your hands on the wall. Jeno curled an arm around your waist, pressing his palm into the lowest part of your stomach and drove in deep, pulling out of you to thrust back in, a little deeper each time.

Sucking in a breath, you were about to moan at the top of your lungs, but a hand swiftly clamped over your mouth. You cried out Jeno’s name, muffled against his palm, and rocked back with his movements, trying to take more of him. All of him.

“Open up for me, baby,” Jeno whispered into the sore sensitive flesh of your neck, where he kept biting because he needed an outlet for just how good the hot vice of your cunt felt around his cock. “Tight fucking pussy.” Jeno groaned, sneaking a hand under your shirt to hold onto one of your breasts.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was dancing on the line of pleasure and pain. His cock was so hard and thick, bottoming out and making you see stars. You held onto his arms, shivering at how your walls burned and stretched to accommodate him, already screaming for more.

Jeno’s hand fell from your mouth to wrap around your neck possessively. You moaned softly. He was being surprisingly gentle, though you knew him as the opposite. It was very telling how tightly Jeno held you against him, how slowly he dragged his cock back and forth inside you.

But once Jeno was satisfied you could handle him, his pace started to build until he smacked his hips into your ass, your soft flesh heating up beneath his hands as he brought you down to meet his thrusts, slamming that cock into your sweet spot.

“Like that, baby,” you begged, desperately trying to keep yourself in place to get every inch of him. “I can take it.”

I know you can. Jeno brushed his parted lips up your neck and kissed your jaw. He’d give you anything you wanted if you kept begging for him. He stuffed you full of his dick a little harder and hissed, “You’re so fucking good. So wet for me.”

You bounced your hips, matching his rhythm. It annoyed you; the two of you could have been fucking each other’s brains out this whole time had you not been cowards last summer.

Jeno glanced down, watching you throw it back on him, and grabbed the nape of your neck, pinning you to the wall.

“Jeno… fuck!” You gasped as he fucked you hard and fast. You winched your eyes shut and squirmed, but you were nothing compared to his strength.

Jeno shoved himself balls deep in your cunt and stilled, groaning with pleasure. Before you could catch your breath, he pulled out of you, making your arousal slip down the inside of your thighs and flipped you around to face him impatiently. He smashed his lips on yours just as you opened your mouth to complain and lowered you to the floor underneath him, sucking on your tongue and thrusting his cock back inside you. You spread your legs and drew him into you by the hips, watching Jeno hook your knees in his arms.

“This is mine,” Jeno said, his voice raspy and dangerous. Both of your mouths were open, lips brushing, panting for breath.

“Yours,” you said without missing a beat, drifting your hands down his back to his ass. “Whenever you want it, it’s yours, baby.”

Jeno rewarded that with a kiss and a hard thrust of his hips.

The desperation took over both of you. There was only you and Jeno chasing the high, stealing pleasure from each other’s bodies as hard as you could. Jeno crushed you into the floor with his weight, his hand tangled in your hair, the other covering your mouth, because you couldn’t keep quiet. He was so rough, starved for you, and all of the unspoken, unresolved feelings between you coupled with him taking you for all you were worth made you break.

The orgasm began like waves between your thighs. Your body went tight, your back arching like you had no control over it anymore, and you screamed into Jeno’s palm as your walls pulsed and squeezed his cock.

Jeno felt you unraveling and swore, his hips stuttering at your pussy sucking him in. He hurriedly got ahold of your hands, pinning them to your sides, and thrust in as deep as he could go, emptying his load into the condom.

You blinked to clear your vision, watching Jeno close his eyes and moan, shaking with his own pleasure. Hooking your legs through his, you grinded into him, milking his orgasm, smirking at the total euphoric daze on his handsome face.

Jeno finally lowered his head, meeting your eyes, and you both chuckled at the same time. You smiled when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you, his cock still buried inside you, his hands still pinning you to the ground.

“Any boy you fuck that doesn’t deserve you…,” Jeno whispered, his breath hot on your lips. “I will kill him.”

You wilted. It shouldn’t have aroused you, but it did. You felt your body tighten on him one last time for it. “If you want me so bad, why don’t you ask to keep me?”

“Would you say yes?”

“Ask me and find out.”

Jeno lost himself in your eyes, staring, burning. He inevitably surrendered, hands falling away from your body, soft cock slipping out of your core.

You watched him rise to his feet and peel off the condom, and you sat up, adjusting your clothes as he threw it away. “Don’t tell me the guy who doesn’t give a fuck is scared of rejection like the rest of us,” you taunted, wanting to goad him, because you wanted a reaction.

You needed a sign that he was capable of loving you.

“Fuck off,” Jeno snapped, zipping up his jeans.

You took that in stride and stood, sucking in a sharp breath at the soreness between your thighs. “‘Fuck off’ isn’t want you said to me last time,” you retorted, using his own words against him. “It was more like, ‘Please, baby girl. Please let me fuck you. I’m the only one good at it.’”

Jeno wanted to laugh at your impression of his voice, but he was too busy deflecting. He fished his jacket off the floor and clocked you a glance. “Am I?”

You rolled your eyes. “You are so fucking obnoxious.”

“We have that in common. Among other things.”

You snorted. Why he couldn’t just talk to you after you’d had sex was a mystery. How could he be so intimate with you one way, but not the other?

Jeno saw the sadness forming on your face and he reached for your hips, bringing you flush against him. You smiled in pleasant surprise, content to be in his arms again, and closed your eyes when he graced a quick kiss on your lips.

For a moment, Jeno studied you, like he was committing you to memory. Jeno anticipated this would be the last time he would ever hold you or touch you again.

“Maybe I don’t deserve you either,” he whispered bitterly.

You frowned. Your whole body tensed with it. “Then… no one does.”

Jeno’s eyes widened. You would be the first and only person to have ever found any worth in him. Jeno wasn’t ready to accept that yet. It was such an utterly foreign feeling to him.

You said, “No one deserves anyone, Jeno. It’s about effort. Do you feel something for me or not?”

“Do you feel something for me?” he shot back, his heart on the line.

You forced out a tiny laugh and worked your hands up to his face, cradling his cheeks. “This is how the night ended between us last time. We’re both too scared to do anything with this.”

Jeno bobbed his head. “Yeah.”

You sighed. Mark was supposed to be safe. That was why you really wanted him. He was kind. He was reliable. He was cautious.

But he crumbled at the first gust of wind.

You looked at Jeno. He was passion and fire, made of steel. Much like you. He kissed your wounds. He would destroy anyone that tried to hurt you.

Nothing would break Jeno. Loving him would be risky, you knew that, but you accepted it, because in his arms would be the safest place in the world.

The two of you resigned yourselves to this little stalemate, though the tension dissipated. Both you and Jeno knew there was something worth fighting for between you.

Jeno held you by the hand, mindful of your wobbly steps as you returned with him to the tables. To your relief, Mr. Kim was nowhere to be seen.

He appeared five minutes later, announcing the hour of detention was over, but Jeno had to stay an extra fifteen minutes. You gave your lover a smirk of amusement as you gathered your things.

You told Jeno and Mr. Kim goodbye, the latter already out the door, but Jeno grabbed your wrist as you began to leave.

“How long did you get detention for fucking up that bitch?”

“A week,” you replied calmly.

Jeno laced his fingers through yours, bringing your battered knuckles to his lips to kiss. “Hm. I guess tomorrow I need to get myself sent here again.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head.

“And the day after that. And the day after that too.”

“I’m sure you will,” you purred, taking your hand back and grabbing him by the chin, stealing one final kiss.

Jeno grinned as you walked away and propped his feet on the table, overlapping his hands behind his head like he was sitting on a beach somewhere.

By the last day, he would find enough courage to ask to keep you.

END.

[0x-cinder]

Zoro and fem!reader are having a drinking contest and a barely sober reader ends up dancing with an arrogant stranger.

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mild references to sex, non-detailed descriptions of vomiting.

　

"I wasn't Jealous!"

"Give up, swordsman, you'll never beat me!" you exclaimed.

"No shot, Princess!" The swordsman barked, downing his third beer of the night, "There's no way I'm letting a woman out-drink me!"

With a determined look in your eye, you waved down the bartender and ordered your third drink, "Watch me."

Zoro laughed in response and followed your lead, requesting another beer.

The rules were simple—a drinking contest where the loser had to help Sanji with the dishes for a week. You didn't plan on losing, so you made sure to choose a punishment that Zoro would despise.

However, after watching you down your sixth drink of the night, Zoro began to think that accepting your challenge may have been a bad decision, especially because you started swaying just after the fourth round.

"Alright Princess," he said sternly, leaning in so that you could hear him over all the noise inside the busy tavern, "maybe you should call it quits for the night."

"I will do no such thing!" you exclaimed, shaking your head profusely, "not until you surrender!"

Zoro paused, weighed his competitive spirit against the thought of carrying you, blacked out, back to the Sunny…

It was a short walk to the docks. You'd be fine.

Taking his silence as a refusal to yield, you waved down the tired-looking bartender and ordered another round.

A few minutes later, you felt the sudden urge to use the restroom as seven rounds of drinks finally reached your bladder. You stood, steadying yourself against the bar.

"Be right back," you slurred to the swordsman before making your way across the tavern towards the lady's room, putting a great deal of effort into appearing as sober as possible.

Zoro chuckled as he watched you stumble away.

You joined the Strawhats three months ago when the crew docked in your hometown for supplies. Zoro and Luffy stopped for a drink at your father's bar after being chased by an angry shopkeeper for "scaring away paying customers." Luffy caught you scribbling a story on a napkin behind the bar and, after sneaking a peak at what you'd written, decided you'd be the crew's chronicler, responsible for documenting the Strawhat's "glorious adventures."

The swordsman didn't talk to you much at first, but he soon got used to your presence as his crow's nest became your favorite writing spot. He'd noticed that you'd stop writing to watch him train sometimes and found himself pushing harder to impress you. Then, after a close run-in with the Blackbeard Pirates, he convinced you to let him teach you how to wield a sword. His chances of losing you were significantly lower if you were armed.

The bartender slid a glass of water across the bar, snapping the green-haired man out of his thoughts.

"For your friend," he winked, "You'd better give up soon, the poor lass is going to drink herself sick."

The green-haired man figured the barkeep was probably right anddecided to "give up" for your sake once you returned. You'd probably be too hungover to remember it in the morning, anyway.

Yet, 5 more minutes passed. You still hadn't returned. Zoro let out an exasperated sigh, no way she got herself stuck in the bathroom he thought.

Zoro crossed the tavern floor and lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door.

Before his knuckles hit the wood, however, the door swung open to reveal a woman who looked nothing like you. "Wrong one, handsome, the men's is over there," she said, gesturing towards a door down the hall.

Zoro didn't respond, too focused on soothing the mild panic rising in his chest. The woman gave him an odd look before maneuvering around him and disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

Where the fuck did she go? He thought, How on earth did I lose track of her?

The swordsman circled the tavern's main room, his anxiety growing with every face he spied that wasn't yours.

Just as he started to get the horrible feeling that you'd somehow left the bar without him noticing, he caught a glimpse of you near the center of the crowd of dancing bodies.

Eyes locked on your position, Zoro pushed through the crowd to find you dancing in the center of it all. His panic eased, relieved to have found you, but anger quickly took his place as he noticed the hands of an unfamiliar man wrapped around your waist, guiding your hips with his to the music, holding you too close for the swordsman's comfort.

The stranger spun you around, and your eyes met his. Your smile widened. "Zoro! There you are,∼" you shouted, pushing away from your dance partner and stumbling towards the swordsman, "I wondered where you'd gone!"

"Hey, you disappeared on me, Woman." Zoro argued, pushing his index finger against your forehead.

You took his hand and spun around, "Whatever. Come dance with me∼"

"I don't dance"

"C'mon∼" you snaked your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him.

Zoro felt every inch of his body grow warmer at your touch; his mind ran blank for a moment before he reminded himself that he should probably get you home. He gently pushed you off of him, "You've had a lot to drink, maybe we should-"

"Don't waste your time with this killjoy, sweetheart," A voice sounded over your shoulder. Your dance partner appeared behind you, reaching for your left arm, which now hung loosely by your side. "Come hang out with the fun people∼"

Zoro couldn't stop the glare that spread across his features as the stranger gave your arm a slight tug, which, in your unstable state, was enough to make you stumble right into him. The man caught you, arms pressed tight around your waist to provide as much stability as he could without falling to the ground with you.

You gave him a sheepish smile. "oops, sorry."

"You're welcome to fall for me any time, darling." He winked.

Zoro felt rage start to seep back through his veins.

"Alright, princess, time to go. You're gonna hurt yourself and I promised Nami I'd return you in one piece," the swordsman said sternly, reaching for you.

The stranger leaned closer to Zoro, still holding you firm against him, "C'mon man, don't be a cockblock." He said with a smirk.

Zoro's blood reached its boiling point. Before he could stop himself, he swung his already clenched fist straight into the bastard's face, propelling him backward. You would have gone flying with him if Zoro hadn't caught your wrist and pulled you back.

Your stomach heaved at the sudden commotion, and the room spun as you hunched over and vomited, barely missing Zoro's right foot.

The swordsman didn't give you a chance to recover as your former dance partner stood back up, red in the face with anger and humiliation. Not to mention the bartender, who was making his way around the bar to catch whoever was disturbing the peace.

Zoro scooped you up and dashed out of the tavern. Of course, he would have loved to stay for the fight, but he didn't want to risk getting you caught in the middle of it, especially in your heavily intoxicated state.

Once he was certain no one was tailing you both, Zoro turned into an alleyway and set you down, where you proceeded to hurl the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. The green-haired man sighed and pulled your hair away from your face as he waited for you to finish.

Once your stomach was empty, you stood. Still a little dizzy, but at least the nausea had subsided.

"Better?" Zoro asked, removing his hand from your hair.

"Much better."

"You shouldn't dance with strange men." He chided.

"And you shouldn't punch people just because you're jealous."

Zoro felt his face flush. "I wasn't jealous, woman."

"Yeah you were." you teased, pointing a finger into his chest, "I was just having fun and you punched him because you were jealous." you smiled, drawing out the syllables in the word "jealous" just to tease him.

"Remind me never to let you have more than three drinks ever again."

"And remind me never to make you jealous again." you giggled.

"I was not!"

"Were too∼"

"Why would I care who you dance with!?"

"I don't know, you tell me∼"

"I can't because I don't!"

"Then why'd you punch him?"

"Because he just wanted to fuck you!"

You both went silent. You'd been so focused on the argument that you hadn't realized you'd been moving closer to Zoro with every retort.

You held his gaze and a devious grin spread across your lips, "And why does that bother you so much?"

Checkmate.

Zoro remained silent, but he didn't pull away from you. "I-" his eyes flickered down to your lips. For a second, you were sure he was going to kiss you.

"Forget it." He sighed, smelling the alcohol on your breath; kissing you while you were like this would make him no better than that bastard in the tavern. He started to back away, "You're drunk, you don't know what you're-"

"I'm sober enough to know you want to kiss me."

The swordsman froze, heat rushing to his face, "I-" he stuttered, looking away. Your eyes were tempting him, and he was desperately trying to keep his composure.

"Am I wrong?"

"You're drunk." He was so close you could feel his breath catch in his throat.

"But am. I. wrong?"

Unable to hold back any longer, the swordsman closed the gap between you, pushing his lips firmly against yours. Sparks of heat rushed through your body as you kissed him back, placing your hands on his chest as his came to rest on your hips.

The kiss started slow and sweet, almost cautious. You'd never seen Zoro treat anything as gently as he was treating you; it made your stomach flutter. You slid your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. He responded by snaking his hands around your waist and pulling you closer. His movements became more desperate as he pushed your body against the wall of the alleyway. You moved your hands into his mossy hair, and he groaned, pulling you tight against him as if you were going to disappear the moment he let go. You smiled against him and bit his bottom lip playfully. He went rigid for a moment before breaking the kiss.

"Slow down there, princess. I don't want-" he stumbled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to-"

You looked up at him expectantly.

He stepped back. "Fuck. I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and another step back, "I'm sorry."

"You're missing a crucial difference, swordsman." You hummed, ruffling his hair.

"What do you mean?"

"I actually want you."

He stood for a moment, stunned by your words, letting them sink in.

"You…want me?"

[undertheorangetree]

Snowed In

Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.

Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)

dividers by me

"They've just closed campus."

Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.

"Closed? What do you mean closed?"

"It says they had to on account of the weather."

"No, they haven't. Let me see."

He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.

She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.

"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"

He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.

She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"

She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.

Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.

The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.

There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.

Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."

He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."

Read the rest here

[oneheda]

hello !! may i ask a neteyam fic wherein nete has been trying to win the reader's (s/o) affection again for days and reader just saying "hmp" or ignoring him because of something that he did that made her feel upset :-P silly && comfort pls! :3c

THE RISK. | ➶ neteyam sully

── .✦ a: ONE-SHOT

w.c: 3.9k

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)

story description: ever since olo'eyktan training cruelly took away a significant amount of time with you, neteyam has been desperately trying to win back your warmth and affection after he’s met with cold steel from your hurt. his longing for your touch and care only deepened from within as time and your silent resentment—a reflection of the quiet yearning that had you undoubtedly tethered to him—had kept you two apart.

contains: established relationship, slight angst that ends with silly fluff (lots!) <3, or otherwise known as hurt/comfort, teyam’ gifting you tons of flowers, him being obsessed with you, calling you yawne a lot, you guys’ chasing each other, falling into a river, being wet (oh.) and in love!!

warning(s): quite suggestive towards the end, but still very PG! 😏

a/n: omg this request is soooo cute and such an imaginable trope for neteyam, given that we all know if he stayed in omatikaya he’d be so busy training for olo’eyktan likeeee? i’ve read so many one-shots with the reader being mad at him before, and him making up for it, and i loved every single one. so, i’m so excited to try this one out in my writing style and mind! +while planning this i kept thinking about—what would you as his omatikayan lover be like? wouldn’t you be hesitant about falling too deep in love with him, knowing you’d miss his busy ahh sooo bad because he’s away like almost all the time? isn’t that risky? seriously, kudos to all those who take that risk IRL fr. ✊🏻

It started with flowers. Not just one or two, but a small, growing pile of them. Each time you turned around, there’d be another tucked behind your ear, balanced on your hammock, woven into a little bracelet left near your food.

Neteyam had been relentless in his attempts to win back your affection over the past few days. It wasn’t as though you didn’t love him because you did, with every fiber of your being. But you were still upset about the argument you’d had earlier in the week. The argument arose from the widening distance between you, a gap carved by the relentless demands of his role as the future Olo’eyktan. You nodded as he explained, telling him you understood—because you truly did. Every decision he made was for the good of the clan, for a future that included you, too. But understanding didn’t soften the ache in your chest. It didn’t quiet the longing for the moments that used to be yours alone.

You didn’t want to seem selfish, didn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone relegated to the edges of his life. But how could you not yearn for him when he was the very heart of your own?

You didn’t need grand gestures or impossible promised, just to feel like you mattered, like the bond you shared wasn’t something easily pushed aside. It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? If it was, he shouldn’t have assured you that time would always find a way to make room for the two of you.

He shouldn’t have told you he could love you without limits.

Still, you weren’t angry, just quietly hurt. So, you let him sit with the weight of your silence for a little while longer, unsure if he truly understood how deeply you longed for his presence. If he cared, he would be honest. He would decide whether he could meet you where you stood or not.

And Neteyam, true to form, was determined to make the effort.

At communal dinner, he hovered like a shadow, his golden eyes constantly flicking toward you. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on your food, the stars overhead, and occasionally the random crack in the floor. Anywhere but his face. Neteyam, however, was not easily giving in. With a deep breath, he reached over, gently prying your hands apart from where they were clasped in your lap. His large, warm palms enveloped yours, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. You stiffened but didn’t pull away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of melting under his touch.

“Yawne (beloved),” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter of the gathering. His brows knit together in concern. “Are you still upset? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it right. Just give me time for a few weeks.”

But your only response was a soft huff as you turned your attention to your plate. His ears drooped slightly, and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up.

Neteyam had taken to foraging during his hunting trips, returning with blooms in every color he could find. Each one seemed chosen with care, as if he had combed through Pandora’s vast forest just to find the perfect match for you. This morning, you found a particularly delicate one—a deep blue petal with flecks of gold, so soft it felt like velvet—waiting for you beside your water. Its placement wasn’t accidental; he’d laid it carefully, as though it were a gift meant to soothe whatever rift had come between you.

“Do you like it?” His voice, deep and warm, came from behind you, startling you slightly.

You turned, fingers curling instinctively around the flower. He was leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder and his skin dappled in the soft morning light. He looked relaxed, but his twitching ears and the slight shift in his tail gave him away.

You rolled the flower between your fingers, trying not to let your heart leap at the sight of him. “It’s pretty.” Your voice was nonchalant, almost dismissive, but your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.

He smiled, slow and knowing, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over you. “Pretty, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing but soft. “Just pretty? I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”

You scoffed lightly, a weak attempt to mask the heat rising in your cheeks. “Is that what you’re doing now? Comparing me to flowers?”

Neteyam tilted his head, a playful glint in his golden eyes. “Only the rarest ones.” His voice dropped just slightly, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

You tried to turn your attention back to the flower, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He crouched in front of you, his movements unhurried and fluid, and his hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t just bring these to make you smile. I bring them because I want you to know I think of you. Always. Even when I’m away.”

For once, you didn’t have a clever reply. And he smiled, small and boyish, as if your mere attention was like handing him all the stars in the sky. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “I already know.”

That night, during the clan’s celebration, you spotted him at the edge of the gathering. The music swelled, and instead of joining the other warriors in the dance, Neteyam was there, balancing precariously on a low branch. His arms flailed dramatically, as though he were imitating a bird taking flight.

You cocked an eyebrow and took a few slow steps toward him. “Is this what future Olo’eyktan training looks like? Because if it is, we’re doomed.”

He turned sharply at the sound of your voice, pretending to wobble before hopping down with an exaggerated flourish, landing directly in front of you. His grin was wide and unapologetic.

“I’m trying to make you laugh,” he admitted shamelessly, his amber eyes bright. “I’ve missed your laugh, yawne.”

You tried to hold firm, but when he clumsily twirled and struck a ridiculous pose, your laughter broke free. He straightened, a little victorious puff to his chest.

“There it is,” he teased gently, his chest still puffed out with mock pride. “I knew it was still in there.”

Your resolve cracked, but you still rolled your eyes for good measure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re worth it,” he said without hesitation, so sincere and immediate that it caught you off guard. He extended his hand toward you, palm up to offer you a dance but he didn’t push. He just waited, his presence steady and patient.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” you muttered, more for yourself than for him. You didn’t move, but your fingers tightened slightly around your forearms.

“I know,” he said gently, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the celebration. “And I’ll keep earning back every bit of you until you’re not.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart warring with your pride. Slowly, your arms loosened, and though you didn’t take his hand, you let it rest there between you, a quiet truce in the making.

“Said you’d earn it back, huh?” The teasing tone in your voice had a sharp edge, and you couldn’t help the way it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tilted his head, a playful glint in his gaze, as if trying to predict your next move. “Then prove it.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and dashed into the back of the forest, heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. The sounds of the celebration faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves beneath your feet. You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Catch me if you can!”

His reaction was instant, his own laugh ringing out through the air as his long legs carried him quickly in pursuit. Neteyam’s voice came, warm with determination, but also with a clear, boyish excitement. “Oh, you know I will.”

You risked another glance behind you and saw him gaining, the playful smirk on his lips matching the wild spark in his eyes like a predator closing in on its prey. The challenge, the thrill. It was all there in his gaze.

You’d darted across the massive branch that spanned the glowing, bioluminescent river below. Your heart raced as you pushed yourself faster, the wind rushing past your ears, but it only made the sounds of your laughter spill out even louder.

It felt like freedom, like nothing in the world could touch you in this moment.

But just as you rounded a turn on the massive branch, his speed bested yours. Toned arms circled around your slim waist, pulling you back against him with such effortless power that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, his chest firm against your back, his body radiating warmth in the cool, humid air.

The glowing river far below shimmered with blues and greens, but the only thing you could focus on was him. Neteyam’s breath tickled your ear, unsteady from the chase but layered with soft, husky laughter that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You’re not getting from me away that easily, yawne.” he murmured, his voice triumphant, teasing, as his arms held you close. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you swore you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. His heat, his scent, the way his hands seemed to burn through your skin.

Neteyam's breath brushed over your ear, warm and unstead, sending a hum of heat through your veins as the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You fought to steady yourself, but it was impossible. Your knees felt weak as a warmth blossomed in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just from the chase anymore. It was from the way he held you, so firmly, with the way his lips lingered so close to the curve of your neck so teasingly that left you dizzy in his hold. He chuckled once again as if hinting at the promise of laughter and surprises yet to come.

Before you could retort, before you could even think, he moved; both of you toppling sideways off the branch. You barely had time to gasp as he leapt, carrying you with him into the air. The drop lasted only seconds before you plunged into the river below, the cool water swallowing you both in a burst of bubbles and bioluminescent light.

You surfaced with a gasp, your laughter echoing across the glowing expanse as you pushed the wet strands of hair from your face. “Neteyam!” you exclaimed, half scolding, half incredulous.

He emerged just beside you, grinning like a mischievous child, his braids dripping water and his golden eyes sparkling. “You looked like you needed to cool off,” he teased, his voice thick with playful arrogance.

Well, you did need to cool off the hotness in your core… but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Without hesitation, you launched a spray of cool water at him, the droplets shimmering with the river’s glow as they scattered in radiant arcs. His reaction was instant; a burst of deep, joyful laughter that echoed through the humid air, rich and unrestrained. The playful challenge sparked an electric excitement between you, drawing you both into a frenzy of splashing and dodging. The world then began to blur into the glowing water and your shared laughter, a symphony of carefree chaos where nothing else mattered but this moment.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive, this carefree.

Eventually, your laughter guys laughter faded into breathless quiet. His eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. He moved closer, his face only inches from yours now, his wet skin glistening faintly in the river’s glow.

You let out a little laugh, your fingers finding it’s way on his chest, not sure whether to pull away or pull him closer. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

“I’m yours,” he corrected, his voice low and serious for just a moment as he stared deeply into your eyes, drowning in them as if they were the river instead. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Soon enough, Neteyam’s once-constant efforts seemed to slip away, fading into nothing more than fleeting memories. His presence, once a constant source of warmth, began to diminish with every passing day. The flowers he had once brought you—each one an offering of love and hope—became fewer and fewer, as if the color was draining from both the blooms and the moments you shared.

Once again, you understood and didn’t blame him, or at least told yourself. After all, your own responsibilities as a healer had grown burdensome, the increasing frequency of skirmishes and the unrelenting demand for resources leaving you with little time for anything else. Your days blurred into a haze of tending wounds and gathering herbs, each task an anchor that dragged you further from the quiet joys you once had even with yourself.

The strain of hunting weighed heavily on Neteyam too. Gone were the days when he would wander through Pandora’s vibrant forest, carefully selecting the most beautiful flowers to weave into thoughtful bouquets. Now, even the act of picking a single bloom seemed beyond his reach, a bittersweet reminder of the tenderness that had once come so effortlessly.

The communal dinners you had once savored together became strained, short-lived affairs. He would excuse himself early, his duties as the future Olo’eyktan demanding his attention, dragging him away before the last bite of food could even be tasted. He needed rest, they said, to prepare for the challenges ahead. And though you understood, the weight of his absence pressed heavier on your chest with every night he left, his absence a constant ache. The time you once had—those stolen moments of laughter, of closeness, of being seen—became rare, almost impossible to hold onto. The spaces between you grew longer, the silences more deafening.

You began to wonder if this was just how it had to be now. If love, no matter how deep, could survive when it was stretched thin by duty and distance. But fear began to creep in, insidious and unwelcome. It was twofold: the fear of losing Neteyam to the weight of his future, and the fear of losing yourself entirely to the relentless tide of duty.

It seemed that love or leisure took a backseat and only the ceaseless demands of survival drove up-front. Maybe, maybe, everything was silently nearing the end of you and him.

You missed him, so very much. But a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of your pride or admit just how much you missed him. Perhaps you thought you were being unreasonable, that it shouldn’t hurt this much when he wasn’t around. So you turned away from him, convincing yourself that this distance was dignified, that it was better to seem indifferent than desperate.

Yet deep down, the fear gnawed at you. You were terrified of being too much, of clinging too tightly to the man destined to lead and maybe eventually leave you like he always did. Either due to the familiar duties or worse, death. If you moved closer, if you let yourself reach for him, you feared you wouldn’t be able to let go. And worse, you feared the day would come when you’d find yourself begging, pleading for him not to leave, not to hurt you ever again, and that would shatter you in a way you weren’t sure you could survive.

You awoke one day after he finally joined you in your hammock for the first time in many nights, and as expected, the warmth of his body pressed against yours was gone, leaving only the faintest memory, as fragile as dew kissed by the morning sun. Could it have been just a dream? The thought clawed at you. You hoped not, but the possibility felt plausible. After all, exhaustion had blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Perhaps your sleep-deprived mind had conjured it all: the weight of his arms around you, the gentle press of his lips, the whispered words.

But just as the doubt began to settle, a soft rustle pulled your thoughts back to the present. The sound grew louder, and you turned your head to see the heart of the matter approaching your hammock once again. Neteyam.

The warrior, as if returning from a long combat, emerged from the soft morning light, his smile radiant and disarming, as if the very sight of you was the highlight of his day. In his hands, he held a woven pouch, bursting with herbs and dried flowers, their scents already filling the air between you.

“For your hammock,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. He knelt in front of you, holding it out with both hands like an offering. “So that it smells like the forest… and not, you know.” His grin widened, boyish and unguarded, as if he couldn’t help but tease you just a little.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Did you… make this?”

“Of course,” he said proudly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Well, okay, I asked Grandmother for help. But I picked the flowers myself. Only the best ones, paskalin (sweet berry).”

You brought the pouch to your nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a perfect blend of calming herbs, delicate flowers, and something distinctly him—earthy, grounding, and utterly familiar.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. For once, you didn’t try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s so early. How’d you find the time?”

Neteyam’s eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against yours. “Yawne,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “I will always find time for you. Even when I’m busy, even when it feels like the world is pulling us in every direction, you are the first thing on my mind. And I pray you never have to wait so long for me again.”

Before you could respond, he leaned closer, his smile deepening. “It’s always going to be me at the end of the line, no matter what. Remember that for me, please?”

And as if he knew what you had been thinking, his words hit you like a wave, sweeping away most of your doubt like it always did. Before it inevitably crept back in, of course. Yet something entirely else stirred within you as Neteyam leaned in closer. His proximity was disarming, his golden eyes holding you unexpectedly captive. His scent, warm and woodsy, wrapped around you like a second skin, and the sight of him this close—lips parted slightly, his sharp jawline catching the soft morning light—sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded slowly, but it was more out of reflex than control. Your hands tightened around the woven pouch, clutching it as though it could tether you to reality, though your mind was already spinning. Your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest as you couldn’t ignore how weak you felt under his gaze, knees threatening to buckle even though you were sitting.

He tilted his head, studying you with a faint smile tugging at his lips, so achingly handsome that it sent heat rushing through your cheeks.

“Yawne,” he murmured softly, his voice like a caress, “Are you alright?”

Your throat felt dry, and you cursed your inability to speak. You could feel the burn low in your core, an ache you didn’t know how to soothe, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. But the way his eyes flickered over you—intently, as though he could read every thought you didn’t dare say aloud—made you wonder if he already knew.

“I, uh… I’m fine,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered, betraying you. But you summoned a smile for his grace, despite it all, “Thank you, Ma’ Teyam. For this, for everything.”

“Always welcome.” His smile grew, softer now, but laced with that teasing edge he reserved just for you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His tone was light, but his hand reached out, fingers brushing against the side of your hip down to your thigh. The simple contact made you feel as though your whole body was alight. It was maddening how much power he held over you, how even a fleeting touch could leave you unraveling. You wanted to look away, to collect yourself, but the way he was looking at you—with that intoxicating mix of love and desire—had you rooted to the spot.

“Because,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your lips, “you look like you’re about to fall apart. And, paskalin, I’m not sure if I should hold you… or let you crumble, just so I can pick up every piece.”

His words sent your mind spinning, and you realized then that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. All you knew was that the heat of him, the weight of his gaze, was utterly consuming, and despite yourself, you wanted to burn.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Instantly, you demanded, “Pick me up. Bring me to your tent.”

There was no hesitation, no need for clarification. He knew exactly what you were asking, and it sent a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling through his golden eyes. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

Without a word, Neteyam scooped you up effortlessly, his hands firm against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The ease with which he held you made you feel small and completely at his mercy, and it only heightened the ache that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety tease as his forehead brushed against yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your skin, igniting every nerve as you struggled to keep your composure. “Almost thought you’d never ask…”

Your fingers threaded into his braids, pulling him just a little closer, your lips barely a breath apart. “Don’t make me regret this, ‘Teyam,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the longing you’d been trying to keep hidden.

“Regret?” He chuckled, a sound so rich and full it made your head spin. “Yawne, you’re about to remember why you never could.”

He carried you swiftly, his steps purposeful as the tension between you crackled like the air before a storm. Every glance he stole, every squeeze of his hands against you, eventually ended with a peck on your lips. And by the time he reached his tent, Neteyam set you down carefully, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “Loving me might be dangerous, syulang (flower),” he said, his lips ghosting against yours, “but you’re the bravest thing I’ve ever known.”

And in that instant, you knew. You were going to fall for the risk of wanting him as long as you wake, no matter how perilous the drop.

AHHHH thank you for reading!! once again—likes, comments and reblogs are very deeply appreciated. 💞💞

i was wondering, should i have made them kiss? but then i was like nahhhhhhhhhh. i like how the story points to how love can be shown beyond just mere physicality (even if it gets suggestive at some point). it’s cute, don’t you think??

ANYWAYSS, i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much @aamircoeur for the request! i’ve definitely gotten a few in the mailbox lately & i’d love for more because i’m on a looooong vacation so i would love to write while i’m free!! if you have any ideas (esp your craziest / complicated ones as long as it’s PG) send em right up! 🫶🏻🫶🏻