#tomorrow was utterly stunning

[isthatacalzone]

trying to find an actual opinion on the bear S3 is proving impossible bc every post I find is people complaining that their ship is fucked despite the fact literally everyone involved has been extremely fucking clear that it's not happening

[catdia]

Jayce Talis with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

The first time you meet was late at night. You were coming out of your physics class as he was finishing up his biomedical engineering course.

You were trying to get home when a pair of male students tried to conner you and wouldn’t let you pass. Jayce was walking out a little later than he normally did and heard all the commotion.

“Come on! It’s not like anyone is dying for your number. Just give it to me.”

“No thanks—” You pivoted to the side, and yet again blocked by other of the guys.

“What do you mean no?! It’s not like big girls like you have any options! I’m doing you a favor. I doubt that any guys want to—”

“I said NO!” They were really starting to get on your nerves. Jayce decided to step in a heartbeat.

“What do you mean no?!” He raised his hand at you, making you flinch. Jayce ran towards you, furious at the gross display of disrespect you were facing. He steeped in between the small space the guy had created in front of you.

“She said no. Now let her go on her way.” Jayce pushed the guy who raised his hand to you. Making him stumble back.

“Look at this, man—” One of the guys playfully slapped the guy who was in your face on his shoulder. “We got a hero in your hands! Pathetic.” You discretely took out your pepper spray from your pocket, turning the handle and placing your thumb on the button.

“Just leave the girl alone and we will not have anymore problems.” You stepped next to Jayce, weapon at your side. You saw one of the fuckers get close in frustration.

“And what are you going to do if—” Before the guy could finish his sentence you doused his face with pepper spray. “H-Holy fuck! You bitch!” The guy fell on his knees in pain, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck?! I’m going to—”

Before his friend could react you did the same to him and landed a swift kick to his balls. Making his face hit the pavement below his feet as his eyes burned. Jayce was utterly stunned. A little thing like you having such violent behaviors. And he found that hot.

He felt a small hand in his palm, then a tug strong enough to make his feet shuffle. It was you trying to get him to run in what ever direction you wanted him too.

“Hurry before they get up!” You yelled at him, his feet moving as yours did. You stopped at one of the dorm buildings. Hands on your knees as you catch your breath. Jayce doing the same.

“That was fun.” He joked, earning a giggle for you. But he still could feel the sadness, the bleeding wound to your heart. He got a good look at you now. Hair messy from the run, cheeks busted pink.

“Yeah, I should get called a bitch more often if it means kicking balls in!” God, he had never seen a smile so bright, so sweet. He immediately saw your expression fall into one of sorrow. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what those assholes did! I’ll have them reported by tomorrow. We can’t have those type of people walking about.” You hummed a response. Those type of people have always been in your life, they could never be purged.

“You know them?” You were so soft, looking at him with your shimmering eyes. Why hasn’t he seen you before until now? Why hasn’t he noticed something so angelic like you in those damn science building hallways?

“Unfortunately, they happen to have a class with me.”There was a short silence. He looked at your sad expression. “What they said isn’t true. I-I, umm, think you’re quite pretty—” You looked surprised. You have never seen a pair of amber eyes so genuine before. Could this be what wanting someone a felt like? Did it look like the most handsome man in school standing in front of you looking at your lips?

“Thank you, Jayce.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss, intended for his cheek but your lips fell on the outline of his jaw. “Bye bye.” The electric door opened with the touch of your keycard and you entered.

“Wait! How do you know my name?” You peaked out the half closed door, smile in your lips.

“Your face is all over the place.” You pointed to your temple. “And I have a mug with you on it.” You closed the door. Leaving Jayce awestruck as his cheeks burned with passion.

Since you guys have the same schedule at night he is the one that walks you home, and you became a couple shortly after. He made sure to have a word with the dean and the two guys who harassed you were kicked out.

When he was first trying to court you he always brought you coffee to your am classes. The first time he did it was the most rememberable one because everyone was so shocked to see him walking up to you and giving you your breakfast! You sitting next to your lab partner and friend Sevika as she told you the gossip she heard in rugby practice. And you ended up confessing to her want happened the other night.

“You should have called me to pick you up!”

“Sev, I’m fine! They got kicked out this morning and are banned even from the arenas.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I can’t believe you had to experience that alone. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I was okay. And I wasn’t alone actually. This guy—” Before you could finish your sentence a shadow crossed over you. And it was none other than the golden boy himself! You stood up from your desk a little too excitedly. Making Sevika scuff at you. You leaned against the corner of the table and propped your hip in your hand.

“Hey, Jayce! Are you going to be TAing or something?” You really regret not doing your hair this morning!

“Na, Heimer just was fussy about some of the numbers we crunched yesterday and want me to come early to do a final run over.” You noticed that he had food in his hands, untouched and unopened. He saw your gaze look at his hands.

“Ahh, this is for you!” He handed you an iced coffee and what looked like a pastry in a brown bag. You knew from the logo that it was from that expensive coffee shop that opened a few months ago on campus. And the heart attack that it gave you when the cashier told you in was 10 bucks for a small matcha.

“Is the coffee poisoned?” You joked, eyeing the color of the coffee. You knew it was going to be delicious.

“No, no, no! Heavens no!” He quickly shook his hands out of anxiety and looked baffled you suggested such things. He had a blush on his cheeks, a boyish look for such a large man.

“I thought it would be nice to bring you something. Y-You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I totally understand if you don’t want to take something for a complete stranger—”

“That’s very sweet, Jayce. Thank you.” 

“No problem.”

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

“Really?!” You nodded your head at his excitement. “Sure!” He leaned down to your level so you didn’t have to grab a chair just to reach his neck. You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his skin. Your lips and contact with the fresh smelling skin. He placed a hand on yours as you slowly back away from him.

“I’ll be in the library this afternoon in room 314, at about 3. Would you like to join me?” He gently squeezed your hand.

“Yeah! I’m free and I have that damned electrical current paper I have to finish. I’ll be there around 4.”

“Good!” He seemed like he really didn’t want to let you go. But he slowly walked away from you.

“Bye bye.” Jayce waited as he exited the door.

“Bye, Mr. Talis.” You blew him a kiss, he rose his hand and catch the kiss placing it next to his heart. Watching him stumble out the door as he bumped into other guy trying to walk in.

“You really have him hooked, huh?” Sevika chuckled as she popped open the brown bag to see the contents inside. “I bet 40 that he is going to beat his meat with that hand later.”

“I seriously don’t know what he sees in me. Did you know he broke up with Mel Medarda?” You leaned against the lab desk and crossed your arms. Still looking at the door Jayce entered and left moments ago. “She’s gorgeous! Makes me feel like a peasant each time I she her in her brand new BMW. And those cuffs in her locs have to be 18k gold! And did you see her latest Insta post?! She’s got body for days!”

“Looks like you have a crush on her.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I knew that you would finally start gunning for the other team. My influence is infectious.” You chuckled at her, still deep in thought as some students took their seats as class time started to approach.

“You really have to start getting out of your head, princess. Do you think he would be doing this lovey-dovey shit if he didn’t want a piece of that ass?”

“Mmm, yeah maybe you’re right—”

“And if he doesn’t work out for you I have plenty of butches that have been asking me about you. The good thing is that you can pick out the dick size.”

“Ewww! That’s so crude, Sevika!”

You heard a crunch and turned your head to Sevika. “Are you serious eating my stuff?”

“Checking it for roofies.” She bit the flaky pastry again and took a sip of your latte. Moaning at the taste as she gave it a final swirl. Passing it to you.“You have my green light.” You rolled your eyes at her.

“Oh, shit! He left his number on the pastry bag!”

He is the captain of the baseball team and also the golden boy of the engineering department. His face is plastered all over the school and even in the promotional stuff of the college.

Hispanic / Latino! A Colombian-Brazilian mix.

His sponsor is the Kiramman family, he won a scholarship in middle school for a Juniors Inventors Competition he placed first. They have paid for his education ever since because they loved him so much. And helps Cait with all her homework and tutoring. They also are members of the board of education (cough nepotism cough).

Your first date was at a basketball game. His friend Vi was playing in the national women’s tournament that was taking place at your college’s arena. Imagine you are relaxing and enjoying the game as the Jumbotron is going around focusing on couples for the kiss cam. And it lands on you two!

“I guess we have to give the people what they want.”

“How unfortunate for us.” You leaned into Jayce, grazing your lips against his.

You guys share a passionate kiss as the crowd went wild. Later you saw your picture in the schools newspaper talking about the game and the “New Golden Boy’s Gal”.

His favorite pet names for you are babe, baby, dove, and princess! When he gets spicy uses “muñeca” (doll) and “mi tesoro” (my treasure).

Doesn’t seem like a party person at all! He went to a few in his first year but didn’t like the craziness of them. He does however go to fundraising galas and any event that the school of engineering / baseball does.

And you are his plus one always!

Likes to be in suits and all dolled up, Jayce likes to look good. He knows his handsome, but he doesn’t compete next to you. Having your curves hugged so nicely by the gown you’re wearing, hair and makeup done.

“Are you ready, Jayce? If we are not there by 7 Professor Heimerdinger will have my ass.” You entered his room, heels clicking. He pulled his tie around his neck and he saw you in the reflection of his small mirror.

“You look stunning!” He shifted his attention to you. Watching you struggle to put your necklace on he quickly took the chain from your fingers.

“I don’t feel stunning—” He clipped the necklace. Kissing the nape of your neck.

“Jayce, we will be late!” He unzipped the back of your dress, earning a yelp from you. His cold hands slipping under the fabric and grasping the meat of your hips and stomach.

“They can wait! You are more important than so old farts with money to spare.” Your dress pooled on your feet.

Wouldn’t it be awkward having Mel as his ex like a mentioned previously?! And she being the face of the school of engineering like Jayce?! They only dated because it was pushed on them by the department because having a “power couple” as the face of the college meant big money.

I believe that their relationship never was more than occasional sex and a little toxic. She 100% dated Jayce because Ambessa told her too. Mel only cared about him when it came to the aesthetics of it all. Made him follow a script all the time in public. He couldn’t smile too much, couldn’t giggle because it was uncouth, changed his diet because according to her he was still “flabby” even with the constant work he put in… Mel manipulated the hell out of him, and she was damn good at it. She made him feel trapped and loved at the same time. It wasn’t a very healthy relationship.

Viktor never really liked Mel so when she broke with him he was the happiest man alive! He was like “yeah I hated that bitch” and Jayce was just crying his eyes out because he was dumped before his game.

I think Mel dumped him because he was tired of not being himself anymore. He didn’t find joy in the little things and he stared to tell her “no” when it came to her shifting his whole personality.

She had a wake up call a few more years into college and even broke of her relationship with her mother. Mel eventually apologized to Jayce for all the pain she caused him.

When Jayce introduced you to Viktor you both hit it off right away! He said something in the line of: “I like this one, keep her around.”

I headcanon Jayce as bisexual, but isn’t the type to parade it around or even mention it to people. Doesn’t own any pride stuff. Very closeted, but not at all (if you get way I mean). Jayce is just comfortable with himself and doesn’t need to prove anything to others when it comes to his sexuality. He only tells people when it naturally comes in a conversation.

The only person he flat out said “yeah I’m bi” was when Cait came out to him. He wanted her not to feel alone and that she had a friend she could relay on.

The way you found out he was bi was so mundane. You were talking about a popular actor that was in a lot of action movies back when you were kids.

“Since I was a teenager all the other guys said that he was cool, but I only really liked him because he was hot.”

“Wait! You like boys and girls?”

“Y-Yeah—” He sheepishly placed a hand on the back of his neck, blush on his cheeks. And that quickly turned into a form of panic. What if you were disappointed, or even disgusted by that? Will you break up with him over it? “If you don’t feel comfortable with that I totally understand—”

“I like girls too! And boys!” You both held hands and skipped in a circle out of bi joy.

He always kisses you hello and goodbye! He likes PDA but isn’t the type to be literally fucking you in public. He holds your hand and gives you gentle kisses. Also whenever you go out he makes sure to walk on the side of traffic. And makes you stand close to his chest when you’re in line.

I belive that the college you go to is close to his home, and his mom comes over on the weekends to his dorm. Brings treats over and cooks for Viktor and Jayce to last them the week. Very mama bear

The first time Ximena saw you was in early Saturday morning. You stayed over after finishing a project, it was too late to go back to your dorm and you slept over. You woke up to the smell of coffee. Jayce still sleeping at your side like a rock. You dragged yourself out of bed in one of Jayce’s big t-shirts and some fuzzy socks he bought for you.

“Oh! Who is this pretty girl?!” You heard a kind voice express. You saw a tall and gorgeous woman cooking at the stove. From the pictures Jayce showed you it was Ximena Talis, his mom!

Viktor was sitting in the counter stuffing his face with pancakes. “That’s Jayce’s girlfriend, Mrs. Talis.”

“My Jayce has a girlfriend!”

She made her way to you drying her wet hands on her apron. She gave you the biggest hug and you giggled at her boldness.

“I’m Ximena Talis, Jayce’s mom! But you can call me Ximena.” She cupped your face in her hands and gave your cheeks a squeeze. Looking over your features lovingly then stepping away slightly to look at the rest of you.

“You’re a cutie! ¡Y mira esas curvas que tienes! (And look at your curves!)”

She placed her palms on your wide hips, and felt them over her son’s shirt.

“Wow, okay—” You heard Viktor choke on his coffee.

“Mom! What are you doing? That’s embarrassing!” Jayce was beyond frustrated of his mom’s actions. 

“Jayce Antony Talis! When were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?!

“We only started dating a few months ago and—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jayce! Come here my dear! Let’s get you some breakfast before he lets you go hungry.” She dragged you back to the stove and hugged you by the shoulders. And it was the most delicious hug you’ve had in a while.

“Mamá, don’t suffocate her please!” Jayce took a seat next to Viktor that was silently recording this shit show for his private Snapchat stories.

“Oh, shush! So do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?” She petted your cheek lovingly.

“Can I have both?” You asked with puppy eyes.

“You are just like my Jayce!” Her eyes twinkled as she prepared a plethora of pancakes for all of you.

In Arcane, the Talis house is know for their toolmaking. In this Modern AU his family owns a small chain of workshops and supply stores. They specialize in welding and power-tools.

He brings you all the time to his families original workshop and makes steel flowers and trinkets for you.

Has a full skin care routine. One for day time and night time. Does face masks a few times a week for hydration and sun protection because of baseball practice. Always wears sunscreen! And applies multiple times a day.

Also loves smelling good for you. He was a pretty nice selection of perfumes. Jayce seems to be more inclined to sweeter and less overpowering types of smells. Doesn’t like to have the type of cologne that literally envelopes the room in a smoky way. Likes perfumes that blend well and you have to stand close to have a good whiff.

His a big boy! And eats a lot to keep up with his hours of exercise and studying. Totally the kind of guy that downed all his meal points and is left eating leftovers in the final semester months.

Jayce will literally lick the plate clean with whatever you cook. Buys you all the ingredients before hand like a gentleman. Once ate a whole batch of brownies you made and you were utterly disgusted by him.

“Jayce, I may be a fat ass but I will never pull this shit. This is inhumane and worrisome.”

“But they were so good. I couldn’t resist!” He wiped the crumbs off his face and sucks his fingers clean.

“Good enough that you didn’t let me have at least one?!”

You guys also like to try out new recipes together. And by try I mean Jayce burning his share and you ordering food after his disaster in the kitchen.

Since becoming partners you spend a lot of time in their dorm and each one of you takes turns making a fresh batch of cookies for the week. Viktor is a master baker, so when it’s his turn to make cookies they are gone before the end of the week. Jayce is an ass and just buys Oreos, gaslights Viktor and you into thinking they’re “gourmet” or some shit.

Viktor is his keeper. If you want to do anything with Jayce you need to ask Viktor for permission.

“Can I have him for tonight, Vicky?”

“Absolutely not! We have Great British Bake Off tonight. Who is going to help me rank the dishes from worst to best if he is not here?”

“Every time it feels like I’m in the 1800 asking for a hand in marriage even though I just want to go get ice cream with Jayce!” You groaned at Viktor’s response.

“Ice cream? I will allow it if you get me a scoop of strawberry.”

“Thank you great king Viktor! Your prince will be moderately safe in my hands.” You bowed your head like a knight in a castle asking for the princess hand.

Jayce is a total cuddle bug! His favorite spot to snuggle up is the couch. Likes having your back pressed against his chest with your legs tangled with his while playing video games or watching movies. Jayce is the little spoon all the way when you’re in his bed. Likes his hair to be played with while he has his head on your chest.

He wears hoochie daddy shorts! Those super tiny shorts were you can see his boxers peaking out the legs. You love how they make his thick thighs and ass look plump and juicy.

“I told you not to wear these in public.” You disrespectfully grabbed his ass. Enjoying the fullness in your palms. “You know what that ass does to me. Makes me want to hump you!” You proceeded to hump his leg and bark at the same time.

“Babe, stop! We are in public for Gods sake!” Jayce pushed on your shoulders trying to get you off his leg.

“Then you shouldn’t be asking for it!”

He traces your stretch marks when you are alone together in bed! The ones on your belly are so especial to him. His hands are big and warm and they feel so good on the fresh ones you get.

He also has stretch marks! Mainly on his arms and glutes. You call them his tiger stripes.

Grows out his beard and hair after his second year. His work load tripled and doesn’t have much time to trim them. You absolutely love his new look!

“Kissing you feels like eating a carpet! I love it.”

“You’re sure a weirdo, babe!”

You always make time to go to his baseball games. He throws you kisses and winks before each batting section as a form of good luck. Jayce is an amazing hit, and always starts and finishes with a breathtaking home run.

He looks incredible in his white and blue uniform. And that ass of his looks delightfully plump in his dirty white jeans. You always bring binoculars to just stare at him instead of watching the game.

Got badly injured in game because one guy of the opposite team kicked his knee in while touching base. His injury was so severe that he was recommended to quit it all together and has to wear a knee brace for the rest of his life.

Started getting bad scores and even was about to loose his sponsorship because of his mental health after the incident. Started drinking shortly after to quell the pain. He completely spiraled out of control.

“I-I don’t know how I am anymore. I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’m worthless.” He came to your dorm room late one night. He had been drinking enough that his true emotions started swallowing him up.

“Jayce, don’t say that—” He launched into your arms, shaking in hurt as his tears stained your top “If you were all those things you said then you wouldn’t have all these people backing you up. You are loved Jayce. I love you.”

“Then why do I feel like this? Like I want everything to burn and collapse?”

“Because it’s unfair what you are going through. So cry and breakdown all you want. I’ll be here to dry your tears and help you stand.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“No problem, baby.”

Jayce has always suffered from depression and suicidal thoughts since the passing of his father. So you felt like you would have lost him of it wasn’t for the support you guys gave him. Viktor with his crazy science hypothesis and projects. And you with your emotional support.

“If you ever want to talk I’m right here, Jayce. And if you don’t want to talk, then let me be the shoulder you can cry on.”

“Only if you promise me to help me get my chemistry grade up.”

“I wouldn’t say no even if the world burned down.”

He started becoming his self again, getting amazing grades and taking care of himself. Saving his beared and cutting his hair (noooooo).

Jayce seems like the guy that likes to keep busy, so since he doesn’t have any sports to keep him hands on he takes up more artsy activities. Since he is familiar working with metal, Jayce starts doing woodwork and pottery.

You introduced him to pottery when you surprised him with a couples class to make matching mugs. You have never seen him smile like that since the injury! The mug you molded looked like a kindergartener made it but Jayce liked it so much that it’s his number 1 coffee cup.

The pottery class impacted him so much that he bought all the materials online and started his own little studio. Gives out all his little creations to his friends. Heimer even has a pencil holder in his office that Jayce made him.

Jayce is the only one of your friend group how has a car, it’s an old beat up red Toyota Corola with one of the doors colored blue. That car was where Cait and Vi first had their kiss after Jayce picked them up drunk from a party. The car takes seconds to start and everyone cheers when the engine runs. You and Jayce go every other weekend to the beach that is a few minutes from campus and have a picnic. Is the car where Viktor fell out the window because Jayce was doing donuts in the Burger King parking lot and he was sitting on the window opening.

Your favorite thing to do is going midnight snack runs! Almost 1 in the morning and you hear a knock on your door and there is Jayce in his pajamas. Shaking his keys in his fingers.

“You want some McDonald’s?”

“Let me put my bra on.”

You also go grocery shopping together. And Viktor tags along sitting inside of shopping cart.

Let’s you decorate his knee brace with cute stickers! I mentioned in my Viktor headcanons that Jayce likes Sanrio characters, especially Pompompurin. So if you have any Sanrio stickers he wants them on his brace.

Jayce likes to collect miniature things. And is very into Japanese / Asian culture. He was totally a Pokémon and Gundam kid when growing up. Still has all his old figurines and has some in his dorm room.

Jayce was raised by a single mom almost his whole life, so he was into some very “girly” things at a young age. Likes to bake (even if everything he cooks turns out a little burnt) and garden, going shopping and keeping up with his hygiene. He never had a “boy smelling room”. Imagine him going to another boy’s dorm for a group project and him being utterly disgusted by the man smell.

Since then he keeps to his own, and ever goes to another’s dorm room except yours and Cait’s.

He runs a tight ship and does all in his power to keep everything clean. Viktor is a little on the messier side than Jayce. They get into petty arguments all the time thanks to one of Jayce’s house rules.

“Viktor you aren’t supposed to put wooden kitchens utensils in the washing machine! And what did I tell you about not taking out the potatoes out of the plastic? They will get bad quicker!” He was like a desperate house wife. You and Viktor were playing video games when he just went off ranting.

“Jayce, I want a divorce.” You slapped Viktor’s shoulder and crackled at Jayce’s flustered face.

“I’m not going to let you!”

He doesn’t like the cold at all. He and his mom got into a bad car accident in a snow storm and it took a rescue team almost 4 hours to get them out of the freezing cold. He got bad hypothermia and his mom lost her fingers.

“Jayce if you make me put another sweater on you will have to roll me out to get me to class.”

“Then you shouldn’t have put only one on. You were trying to be sneaky.”

“I have a nice layer a fat on me! If I put too much clothes on I’ll suffocate!”

“I don’t care! I just want my lady to be warm. Now which one do you want? Blue or black?”

“Jesus, help me so I don’t suffer from a heat stroke in December—”

His favorite part of your body is your hips, how plush and soft they fit in his hands. Loves to hold your hips when he hugs you and when you’re walking beside him. Jayce goes crazy for your tummy / muffin top. When you sit down his eyes immediately go to your middle. And if you wear a short body-con skirt that highlights the crest of your belly he will go feral and all gushy.

And if you have wide shoulders consider this man whipped. He finds women with strong shoulders incredibly sexy. Jayce also has big shoulders and it feels like he has something in common with you. Likes to give you hand massages on them. Calls you his “tough lady”.

I like to think that Jayce grew up more on the chubby side and was teased for it. And then he had an amazing glow up. Because Jayce has too much personality for a tall, handsome man! And he would have been such a cutie as a baby too! Really big and chunky, and also super long.

Ximena brought his baby pictures over one time and you saw that he had a massive head. You teased him over it and now he gets embarrassed when you bring it up.

When you get angry or sassy at him Jayce gets very sad! Like a kicked pup. He just stands in front of you with glossy eyes and a quivering lip. You don’t stay mad at him for long.

Even with his knee injury Jayce is very athletic. He likes doing handstands and cartwheels to impress you. He likes to annoy you and do walking handstands. Likes follow you around with his legs in the air and hands on the ground as you do chores.

“Is this your mating dance, Jaybe?”

“Is it working?”

“Ehh, you’re getting there. Get me the extra dish soap from the pantry and maybe I’ll take my pants off.”

“On it!” And you saw him scurry off still in his handstand before you could say anything else. He will have a massive headache later.

Since you started dating Jayce you also got adopted by his friends group. And you have girls night with Cait, Vi, and Sevika. Which means you and Cait sitting on the couch with face masks on drinking margaritas while Sevika and Vi beat the hell out of each other with their boxing gloves. Jayce and Viktor try to bribe the girls with snacks, it always works.

“Boys, get out it’s girls night!”

“But we want to watch Legally Blonde and get our toes painted!” Jayce pushed the door as Cait put all her weight on it.

“We order pizza.” Viktor yelled on the other side.

Vi gasped. “Cupcake, let them in!”

“What the hell! I’m also painting your finger nails as retribution.” You patted the empty space next you on the sofa and Viktor sat down. You pulled out the box of nail polish. “What color, V?”

“I want mine in purple.”

“Blue for me, babe!” Jayce sat on the ground between your legs, resting his back on the sofa cushions.”

Definitely steals your clothes! He will go through your closet in front of you with no shame and pick out want ever he likes. He makes sure to leave some of his fresh laundry so you can wear his stuff too.

If you ever heard of “Walk a Mile in Her Shoes” is a foundation / fundraiser for women who have suffered from various types of abuse. And they have an anual walk where people, mostly men, walk in heels for a mile to show their support for the women in their life. And he participates every year and you cheer him on!

It would be so fun if Sevika and Vi walked with him! And they all are trying to support each others balance but Vi keeps twisting her ankle every so often, so both Sevika and Jayce have one of her arms around their shoulders as they carry and drag her feet off the ground.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” You yelled as you watched them struggle to get to the finish line.

“I think I don’t want my rights anymore!” Sevika ran bow legged as she passed you. Jayce hiding his pain with a forced smile.

They decided to make a run for it to finish first and it ended up with Sevika’s lip busted, Vi with a bruised foot and Jayce with his hands and knees all scraped.

Jayce overall is such an amazing person! Complex and utterly devoted to you. He makes you dream of an endless future with positivity and love.

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 16

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"Tag, you're it."

summary: the dark truth came

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 16

masterlist!

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next | chapter 17

The grand façade of the five-star hotel in Atlanta towers above you, its glass exterior reflecting the city’s vibrant energy as you and Joel step inside.

The lobby is an opulent display of marble and gold, with plush furnishings inviting you to sink into their comfort. A bellboy takes your bags, and the moment the door to your suite closes behind you, the weight of the world seems to lift, leaving you with the soft hum of luxury.

You can hardly contain your exhaustion from the long drive, and the bed calls to you like a siren. As you collapse onto the plush mattress, you let out a sigh of relief.

The softness envelops you, cradling your tired body. “I thought we were running low on money?” you ask, glancing over at Joel as he leans against the door, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, well,” he says, his voice low and reassuring, “you don’t need to worry about that. Your well-being is important to me.” With that, he strides over, climbing onto the bed beside you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. His warmth washes over you, and as he leans in, his lips brush against yours, igniting a spark that flares into a heated kiss.

You both lose yourselves in the moment, the world outside fading into a distant memory as you make out, the kisses growing deeper and more fervent, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces. After a blissful five or seven minutes, you pull away, breathless and smiling.

“Tomorrow is your birthday,” you remind him, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you want, mister?”

“Just you,” he replies, his tone serious yet tender, a glimmer of something deeper in his gaze.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “But you already have me.”

“Then I don’t need anything else,” he insists, his sincerity wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket.

You can’t help but tease him, your fingers playfully ruffling his hair as you sit up. “C’mon, be serious. Do you want something? You gave me this beautiful necklace for my birthday. I want to give you something.”

Joel hugs you tighter, his arms strong and protective around you. “Baby, you don’t need to do that…”

But you’re persistent, determined to show your love in a way that feels tangible. “Maybe tonight, I’ll buy you something around here,” you say, the idea of surprising him bubbling up excitement in your chest.

As the sun begins to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you both spend the morning and afternoon wrapped up in each other’s arms.

You explore the depths of passion, losing track of time in the sanctuary of your room. You love how he makes you feel—desired, cherished, and utterly safe.

By the time your knees feel weak and your body is pleasantly sore, the late afternoon sun spills golden light through the window, casting a soft glow around the room.

Joel eventually decides it’s time to venture out, to treat you to something special. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

He hands you a beautifully wrapped package, and when you open it, a stunning dress spills out—silky and elegant, in a deep emerald green that complements your eyes perfectly.

“Joel,” you breathe, taken aback by his thoughtfulness. “It’s gorgeous!”

“Put it on, doll,” he encourages, watching you with a smile as you slip into the dress. The fabric feels luxurious against your skin, and you twirl in front of the mirror, the dress swirling around you like a dream.

Hand in hand, you walk to the restaurant he’s chosen, the path lined with flickering street lamps and bustling with life. The atmosphere is electric, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, and as you step into the fancy restaurant, the scent of gourmet dishes wafts through the air.

Joel’s hand on the small of your back feels like an anchor, grounding you as you navigate the elegance of the evening. You catch glimpses of couples enjoying their meals, laughter and conversation mingling in the air like a sweet perfume. Joel leads you to a cozy table adorned with candles that flicker softly in the dim light, creating an intimate atmosphere.

As you sit down, your heart swells with gratitude. Here, in this moment, you feel cherished and adored, cocooned in the warmth of Joel’s affection.

As you both settle in, the waiter brings the drinks first—a vibrant cocktail for you, a robust whiskey for Joel. The glimmer of the glass catches the candlelight, sending dancing reflections across the table waiting for the foods you both ordered.

You take a sip, the sweetness swirling in your mouth like a warm embrace, but your attention drifts to a family seated at the table across from you.

The sight of them—two children, a boy and a girl, with laughter spilling from their lips and the warmth of belonging wrapping around them like a cozy blanket—stirs something deep within you.

You feel a pang of yearning that echoes in the hollow spaces of your heart. Oh, how you wish for that kind of life with Joel.

A home filled with love, where you could nurture little ones, providing them with the warmth and affection that was so cruelly absent from your own childhood.

You’ve always wanted a family—a sanctuary of laughter and joy, where the walls would hold stories of adventure, and every room would resonate with the echoes of happy memories.

You envision tiny feet padding softly across the floor, their innocent giggles dancing through the air like music, filling your home with life. You want to heal the wounds of your past by giving your children the kind of love you’ve never felt—by being the parent you always needed.

But a shadow of doubt clouds your mind. Is Joel ready for this? Does he even want more children after everything he’s lost? The memory of his daughter, Sarah, still clings to him like a bittersweet fragrance, a reminder of love that was once vibrant but has now dimmed.

What if he doesn’t want to marry you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, tightening your chest as anxiety settles in. You know that asking him could change everything, and the fear of his answer lingers in the air like a fragile butterfly, ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance.

Lost in your thoughts, you stare into your glass, watching the ice clink softly against the sides. You consider broaching the topic but hesitate, the weight of your desires pulling at your heart.

Should you risk this beautiful moment for the sake of your dreams? You know you’re still young, yet the longing for a life shared with him swells within you, demanding to be heard.

“Hon?” Joel’s voice cuts through the fog of your reverie, pulling you back to the present. You meet his gaze, the warmth in his brown eyes a grounding force. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowing in concern.

The question lingers in the air, an invitation to delve deeper into your thoughts. You feel the delicate thread of hope intertwining with your fears, the two battling for dominance in your mind.

Maybe it’s time to talk about this—to share the dreams that swirl around in your heart like autumn leaves caught in a gentle breeze.

“Nothing, really,” you reply, your voice soft as you gather the courage to speak your truth. “I was just thinking about...” The words feel heavy, laden with unspoken fears and wishes, but you tread carefully, hoping to navigate this conversation without pushing him too hard. “About us, and what the future might look like.”

Joel leans back slightly, his gaze unwavering, encouraging you to continue. “What do you mean?” he prompts, his voice a gentle nudge, urging you to share.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs as you wrestle with your thoughts. “I just... I see families like that,” you say, nodding toward the children, “and I can’t help but dream of having something similar. A home filled with laughter and love.”

His eyes narrow slightly, processing your words. You can feel the weight of your confession hanging in the air, fragile yet profound. “Do you think we could have that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer yet yearning for honesty.

As you await his response, the restaurant buzzes around you, but all that matters is this moment—the flickering candlelight, the delicate clink of silverware, and the silent hope hanging between you like a fragile thread of possibility.

Joel falls silent, his brow furrowing as he absorbs your words. His hand envelops yours, warm and reassuring, yet you can feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down like an invisible shroud. You hold your breath, the air thick with anticipation. In the depths of his gaze, you can see the flickering flames of his emotions, battling against the shadows of his fears.

He finally speaks, his voice low and steady, as if sharing a secret that only the two of you can hear. “I want a family with you, doll,” he admits, his words tumbling out with a mix of tenderness and hesitation. “I want to marry you.”

A rush of warmth floods through you at his declaration, a promise wrapped in hope. But then the storm clouds gather in his eyes, and he continues, his voice strained. “But I don’t know if all this is too soon. You’re young, and I’m getting older.”

Your heart sinks, feeling the chill of his worries seep into your bones. You can see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, and it cuts deep. “I just... I’m afraid I won’t be here for you or for any future kids,” he confesses, a shadow passing over his features. Tomorrow, he will turn 50, a milestone that carries both wisdom and an aching sense of time slipping through his fingers like sand.

The thought of having children at his age weighs heavily on him. “I had Sarah too young, right after high school,” he continues, his voice heavy with reflection. “I don’t know if I’m ready again. You deserve someone younger, someone you can grow old with.”

His words hit you like a cold wave, and you feel the need to push back against the tide of his doubts. “Don’t you say that, Joel,” you insist, your voice firm yet gentle. “You’ll be fine with me. I’m never going to leave you.”

A pause lingers between you, filled with the electric tension of your hearts colliding. “Baby, I understand,” he replies, the vulnerability in his tone slicing through the air like a fine knife. “I want to marry you so bad. I will, one day.”

You can see the struggle in his eyes, the inner battle raging as he grapples with his fears and hopes. “But I don’t know about having kids…” His voice trails off, leaving the unsaid hovering between you like a fragile wisp of smoke, swirling and twisting in the candlelight.

Your heart aches for him, for the man who has faced so much loss and heartache. You wish you could wrap him in a cocoon of comfort, shielding him from the shadows that loom in his mind. “Joel, I want you to know that it’s okay to be scared,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “I’m scared too. But what we have—it’s real. It’s worth fighting for.”

In that moment, the world around you fades away. The noise of the restaurant, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all blurs into the background as you focus solely on the man before you. His fear, his love, and the intricate tapestry of both weave together in a way that is raw and beautiful.

“I want to build a life with you,” you continue, your voice steady, grounding. “I want to create a home filled with love, with you by my side. We don’t have to rush into anything, but let’s not let fear keep us from dreaming.”

His gaze softens, the flicker of hope returning, and you can see the cracks in his armor. You are a light in his darkness, and you feel the shift in the air as he processes your words. In that moment, you know you’re both standing at the precipice of something extraordinary, a bridge between your dreams and his fears, ready to take a step forward together.

***

After dinner, the two of you decided to explore the vibrant streets of Atlanta, your hands intertwined as you strolled through the lively atmosphere. The night was electric, the air thick with laughter and the distant echo of music drifting from nearby bars. But as the evening deepened, you found yourself gravitating toward the inviting warmth of a jazz bar, the sultry melodies beckoning you inside.

The bar was alive, filled with a cacophony of voices, laughter, and the smooth sounds of a saxophone serenading the crowd. You nestled into a corner table with Joel, who seemed captivated by the performance, his gaze fixed on the stage, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He leaned back, losing himself in the rhythm, while you couldn’t help but marvel at how this moment felt like a scene from a classic movie—a snapshot of two souls caught in the magic of the night.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere around you pulsed with energy, but you felt a flicker of mischief spark within you. You decided to slip away under the guise of fetching something from your room, an excuse that would allow you to find the perfect gift for Joel. “I’ll be quick and back here,” you assured him, your voice bright with excitement.

He nodded, handing you the key with a small smile. “Alright, I’ll hold down the fort,” he said, oblivious to your true intentions.

Instead of heading to your room, you dashed to the watch store next to the hotel, heart racing with excitement. You slipped him some cash, knowing he wouldn’t mind—this was your chance to surprise him. The chime of the doorbell announced your entrance, and the warm, inviting atmosphere wrapped around you like a soft blanket.

As you browsed the selection, a sense of determination fueled your steps. Joel always wore that old, broken watch; you wanted to replace it with something new, something that signified your shared journey. The shopkeeper engaged you in cheerful conversation, but a nagging feeling began to creep in, an unsettling sense that someone was watching you. You glanced over your shoulder, but the store was filled with strangers, each lost in their own world.

You shook off the unease, focusing on the task at hand. After a brief search, you found the perfect watch—a sleek, timeless piece that felt like it belonged on Joel's wrist.

You purchased it, the wrapping paper crinkling under your fingers as you prepared to make your way back. But as you stepped out of the store, that feeling returned, a prickling sensation along your spine, urging you to hurry.

You went to your room first to put the gift under the night desk and then hurry back to go back to the bar, your heart racing as you spotted Joel still seated at the same spot, engrossed in the music.

He looked up, his brow furrowing in concern as you approached. “What took you so long?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You feigned fatigue, stifling a yawn. “I’m tired,” you murmured, leaning against him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

He stood, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, his jacket falling around you like a protective cocoon. “Let’s go to bed, baby,” he said, his voice low and soothing.

Once back in your hotel room, he guided you to the bed, laying you down gently. The soft sheets enveloped you, and as you closed your eyes, you felt his hands carefully unzipping your dress, replacing it with comfortable pajamas.

You could sense his tenderness, the way he was taking care of you as if you were something precious.

Just as sleep began to pull you under, Joel’s phone buzzed, interrupting the tranquility. A frown creased his forehead as he read the text from Tommy.

"Joel. Need to talk to you ASAP. Call me.”

You could feel the tension in the air shift, the weight of concern settling over him like a heavy cloak. “Joel, come to sleep with me,” you murmured, your words laced with sleepiness and a desire for closeness.

But his heart raced at the urgency of Tommy’s message, a sense of dread creeping in. “I have to call Tommy,” he replied, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going? Don’t leave me,” you pleaded, the fog of sleep clinging to your mind.

"I'll be right back, you go to sleep, don't wait for me," He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a promise lingering in the air as he slipped out of the room and locked the door behind him.

You watched him go, the warmth of his presence lingering like the fading glow of a candle. Alone in the room, you felt the shadows lengthen, and the unease that had chased you earlier returned, whispering doubts into the silence.

What was so urgent that he had to step away?

Meanwhile, outside, Joel walked toward the outdoor bar, the cool night air hitting him like a splash of cold water. He dialed Tommy’s number, anxiety bubbling just below the surface. The music from the bar faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the rapid thumping of his heartbeat.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” Joel’s voice was low, laced with the urgency of a storm brewing on the horizon.

Each word hung in the air like a fragile note in a symphony, the tension coiling around him as he braced for the storm that was about to unfold.

“Joel, her parents are missing,” Tommy’s voice crackled through the line, a jolt of electricity that shot straight to Joel’s core.

Confusion washed over him like a tidal wave. “What?” he managed, the word slipping from his lips like a prayer in the face of dread.

Tommy explained, his words tumbling out in a rush. Days ago, your parents had stormed into his home, frantic and wild-eyed, demanding to know where you were and where Joel had taken you. They had been like a tempest, filled with anger and desperation, leaving Tommy shaken and frustrated.

Now, days had passed, and whispers of their absence crept through the town like an unsettling shadow. “The church says they’re missing. No one has seen them,” Tommy said, the weight of fear heavy in his voice.

“They fucking knew you're in Atlanta,” Tommy continued, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Joel's heart dropped, a chill creeping through his veins. “What? How the fuck did they know?”

“Evelyn,” Tommy replied, his voice tight with anger. “Her mom manipulated Maria to tell her where she is. She promised Maria that she just wanted to meet her, that she wouldn’t tell her husband. But you know how it is. Maria is a mother—she felt sorry for Evelyn, so she let it slip. I'm so sorry, Joel."

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him like fire. “How could you let your wife snitch, Tommy?!”

“Joel, she just felt sorry for her! She’s a mother too!” Tommy countered, his frustration evident. “You know how emotions run deep in situations like this.”

A harsh breath escaped Joel as he wrestled with his rage. “And now they’re coming for us. We’re not safe anymore.”

“Listen to me,” Tommy said, urgency lacing his voice. “You need to move tonight. It’s been two days; they’re probably already in Atlanta, tracking you down. You need to get to Miami tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, but you have to lay low now. Pack everything. Leave tonight, Joel.”

Each word carried a blend of reassurance and unease, but before they could delve deeper, chaos erupted in the background. A scream echoed from the phone, and Maria’s voice cut through the air, followed by a loud pounding at the door.

“Police! Don’t move!” The command reverberated, sending chills down Joel's spine. Panic surged within him, a wild creature clawing at his insides. “Tommy, what’s going on?” he shouted through the phone, desperation threading through his tone.

But before Tommy could respond, the line went dead, severed like a fragile thread. Joel’s heart raced, dread curling around his mind like a creeping vine. He tried to call back, but his phone had died, leaving him in a whirlwind of uncertainty.

"Fuck!"

***

Tommy stood frozen in the chaotic scene unfolding in his home, Maria and Ellie trembling beside him as they were ordered to raise their hands, kneeling on the cold floor, surrounded by a swarm of police officers.

The tension was palpable, the air thick with anxiety and confusion. “What’s going on?” he demanded, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at his insides.

One of the officers stepped forward, a grave expression etched on his face. “Are you Tommy Miller, Joel Miller’s younger brother?”

“Yes, what’s going on?” Tommy replied, confusion bubbling within him, spiraling into concern.

The officer gestured to the floor, a stack of papers in his hands. “We need to ask you some questions regarding your brother. Is this his property?” he asked, pointing to the house in Houston that belonged to Joel.

Tommy felt his heart plummet. “Yes."

"Where is your brother now, Mr. Miller?”

Ellie’s eyes widened, a spark of panic igniting in her voice. “What’s going on, Tommy?” She looked to him, fear etched in her young features, and he struggled to maintain a calm façade for her sake.

“I don’t know. He left months ago. What’s the problem, officer?” Tommy’s voice wavered slightly, his mind racing with thoughts of Joel’s well-being.

The officer hesitated, a grim expression painting his face. “Are you in contact with your brother?”

“No, What’s going on?” Tommy say try to calm in front of his family.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come to the station with me,” the officer said, his voice firm yet devoid of hostility. “It’s alright. We just need to ask you some questions.”

“What’s going on?” Tommy demanded again, dread coiling around him, tightening like a noose.

The officer’s words fell like shards of broken glass, each one slicing through the air with brutal precision. “We found Reverend Tony Gibson and his wife’s bodies inside your brother’s Houston house. And we discovered the remains of Father Ben Anderson and Jamie Lee buried in the backyard. We believe your brother is the killer.”

Tommy felt his world tilt, like the ground beneath his feet had been torn away, leaving him suspended in a void of disbelief. The truth, heavy and suffocating, crushed against his chest. It couldn’t be. Joel? The man who had bled for his family, who had protected and sacrificed… a killer? The words reverberated in his head, but they didn’t settle. Instead, they churned like a storm, throwing everything into chaos.

***

Meanwhile, downstairs at the bar, Joel sat in the eye of his own storm, gripping a cigarette between his lips, staring out into the dim light with a mind that churned restlessly. He couldn't afford to panic. Panic clouded judgment, and judgment was the only thing keeping you both alive.

The bitter sting of whiskey still lingered on his tongue, mixing with the acrid smoke as he paced, his boots scuffing against the rough outdoor pavement. His thoughts moved in a fevered rush: What if they find us? What if they take her away? I can’t lose her…

The thought hit him with the force of a wrecking ball, his heart twisting painfully inside his chest. You had become the tether to his sanity, the one fragile thread of goodness that kept him from unraveling completely.

If they took you, it would be like losing his daughter and wife all over again. The thought was unbearable.

As he dragged in another breath of smoke, someone bumped into him, jarring him from his dark thoughts. “Oh, so sorry, my friend,” the man said, his voice oily and smooth.

Joel turned, eyes narrowing as he took in the stranger. "It’s alright," Joel muttered, but something about the man’s posture, his voice—it scratched at the back of Joel’s mind.

He had seen him before. Where? The man's gaze lingered a moment too long, and then he smiled—a wide, unsettling smile that crawled up the edges of his mouth like something out of a nightmare—before turning and walking away.

Joel's stomach churned with unease as the man disappeared into the night. He flicked the last of his cigarette into the street, watching the ember sizzle as it was swallowed by the rain-soaked ground. A chill ran down his spine. He didn’t have time to puzzle over strange men and familiar faces. He had to get to you.

Up in the room, you were tangled in the softness of sleep, a temporary reprieve from the endless fear that had become your constant companion.

But something stirred you—an unease in the pit of your stomach, or maybe just thirst. You reached out beside you, feeling the empty, cool space where Joel should have been. His absence sent a pang of loneliness through you.

Groggy, you slipped out of bed, your bare feet cold against the floor as you padded towards the bathroom. The hum of the TV filled the quiet, a distant murmur that felt comforting in the otherwise silent room. You left it on, just to chase away the shadows of isolation.

The tap water was cool, sliding down your throat as you drank, but it did nothing to quell the growing unease. And then, the door creaked open behind you. “Joel?” you called out, your voice still thick with sleep as you set the glass down. You turned toward the door, half-expecting his familiar silhouette to fill the frame.

But there was no answer.

The silence was unsettling, creeping under your skin like ice. You moved out of the bathroom, glancing around the room. It was empty. The door was closed again, as if no one had ever entered.

“Joel?” you called out again, the uncertainty now sharp in your voice.

And then the TV flickered, the volume suddenly blaring, a reporter’s voice slicing through the quiet. You turned, your heart thudding in your chest as the words sank in.

“Breaking news—Texas police have discovered the remains of Father Ben Anderson and Jamie Lee, as well as the bodies of Reverend Tony Gibson and his wife, Evelyn Gibson. All found inside the Houston home belonging to successful Texas construction businessman Joel Miller.”

The reporter's voice filled the room, chilling you to the core. “The police suspect that Joel Miller is responsible for the deaths. His whereabouts remain unknown, and no motive has been identified.”

Then, Joel’s photo appeared on the screen, his face a familiar sight, the man that has saved you. The man that you love so much. “If you see this man,” the reporter continued, “please contact the FBI immediately.”

Your heart stopped as the world crashed down around you. No. No. This can't be true. The world around you tilted, your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t possible.

The photograph flashed again on the screen—Joel’s face staring back at you. The man you trusted, the man who had saved you. He couldn’t have done this. He couldn’t have killed them…

Your heart pounded wildly as the room began to close in on you. Fear tangled with confusion, twisting in your gut. How? How could this be? 

Joel had been with you—he hadn’t even seen your parents for months. The police were wrong. They had to be. But the panic was relentless, clawing at your chest, suffocating you with questions.

And then you heard it. A sound. The floor creaked behind you. You spun around, fear surging like wildfire through your veins. “Joel?” you called, your voice trembling now, barely more than a whisper.

No answer.

Instead, a hand clamped over your mouth, smothering your scream before it could escape.

“Hello, darlin’,” a familiar voice purred into your ear, dark and twisted. No, no, no. Your heart dropped, icy terror flooding your veins. 

Not him. Please, not him.

You struggled, but his grip was iron, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, finally, you’ll be mine, little lamb,” he whispered, his words like poison, seeping into your bones.

His free hand gripped a syringe, and before you could cry out again, you felt the sharp sting of the needle piercing your skin.

“Tag, you’re it,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing as the drug slipped into your bloodstream, pulling you into darkness.

The world blurred around you, the room spinning as your legs buckled beneath you. Your vision dimmed, the edges of the world fraying like an old photograph. And then, everything faded to black.

But even as you fell into the void, one thought burned through the haze: Joel.

***

Joel stubbed out his cigarette, the embers smoldering like the thoughts consuming his mind. He moved towards the elevator, the weight of the world pressing down on his chest.

His hands fumbled in his pockets, searching for the room key that wasn’t there. Damn it, he thought, retracing his steps, trying to recall if he had left it upstairs.

He didn't want to disturb you, already knowing you were probably fast asleep. His exhaustion made the world blur, but his urgency heightened every sense as he turned back towards the lobby.

“Hi,” he said at the front desk, leaning heavily against the counter. “I left my key in room 313. My girlfriend’s asleep, and I don’t want to wake her. Could you give me a spare?”

The receptionist offered a polite smile. “Of course, sir, but I’ll need to verify it first. Could you show me the receipt we sent to your email when you checked in?”

Joel, nodding absentmindedly, pulled out his phone, the device trembling in his hand as he scrolled through his emails. “Yeah, here,” he muttered, showing her the screen.

The receptionist looked it over and disappeared briefly. As Joel waited, his gaze drifted to the television hanging above the desk. The news flashed across the screen, pulling him from his thoughts with the force of a train wreck.

The reporter's voice sliced through the haze. “...suspected in the murders of Tony and Evelyn Gibson, with the remains of Father Ben Anderson and Jamie Lee found buried at his property in Houston.”

His body froze, heart pounding in his chest like a drum. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. His breath caught in his throat, his pulse deafening in his ears.

The mention of your parents’ deaths sent a tidal wave of dread crashing over him. He was drowning in it, unable to catch his breath.

They found the bodies. They found everything.

“Here’s your key, sir.” The receptionist’s voice barely registered as Joel snatched it from her and bolted towards the elevator, his mind a maelstrom of terror.

Someone had set him up.

He hadn't buried Ben and Jamie at his house—he buried them far from there, deep in the desert. And he didn't fucking killed your parents.

Someone was playing with him.

And the one thought ringing out like a church bell in his mind was you. He need to get you out of here, now.

The elevator doors slid open, but Joel barely noticed. His movements were frantic as he rushed down the hallway, bursting into the room. The air was too still, too quiet.

His heart thudded in his chest as he called your name, the words heavy with panic. Without looking to the bedroom, "Baby, we need to leave. Now. Pack your things." He moved straight to the bathroom to pack things, but there was no reply.

“Doll?” His voice cracked, the terror bleeding through as he searched the suite, opening doors, ripping back curtains. The emptiness swallowed him.

You were nowhere to be found.

His breath grew shallow, panic clawing at his insides as he tore through the room. Then, he saw it—a note beneath the blankets on the bed.

His hands trembled as he picked it up, unfolding the paper with dread sinking its claws into his gut.

"I told you to be careful and keep her safe, didn't I? Now this sweet delicious little lamb will be mine forever, my friend.

And you will never see her again.

P.S. Thank you for making it simple for me by the way, oh, and I killed the parents. You're welcome."

The words seared into his mind like a brand, a taunt that stoked the flames of his rage. His pulse roared in his ears, blood rushing hot and violent. 

Who is this? How had he missed the signs? How had he allowed this to happen? He should’ve seen it coming. Joel's hands clenched into fists, the note crumpling in his grip.

He's a mess, unraveling, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. Every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance, but fear gnawed at the edges of his control.

The man—the one who had been watching him, the one who had been following them—it had to be him. That same eerie smile flashed through his memory, the unsettling familiarity of the stranger who bumped into him earlier.

Chicago, the word echoed in his mind. He remembered the voice, the cryptic warning. He’d been too careless, too wrapped up in his own guilt and fear to see it. Now, you were gone.

Joel screamed, a raw, guttural sound that filled the suite like a wounded animal. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe. You were gone, taken, and it was all his fault.

His vision blurred, anger and despair blurring the edges of his reality. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t.

He stumbled to gather his things, tossing everything into a bag with shaking hands. His mind raced, but one thought rose above the chaos.

He had to find you. No matter what it took, no matter how far he had to go, Joel would burn the world down to bring you back to him.

He wouldn’t lose you. Not to some monster. Not again. Not ever.

As he sped down the highway, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, the world outside blurred into darkness. The FBI was after him, the law branded him a killer, but none of it mattered.

He would find you. He had to.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 24

Trigger warnings: none

Everything changed when Y/N woke up in her bed. Everything she now felt was heightened and her instincts changed. She liked it but also she didn't. This was too new for her. She didn't exactly want to be an alpha but she wasn't. She was a Luna. Luna's were much more powerful because they were mated to the alpha. Mated to the pack. Y/N smiled to herself as she thought about last night and the way the wolves took care of her as if she was the most special creature ever to exist. The way they touched her and aroused her, making sure she had her sweet release before their own. Even the dominant ones became submissive like an omega. The way they cried out to her. It was ecstatic.

Y/N got dressed and headed downstairs to see Minho who was feeling slightly nervous about her presence. It embarrassed him slightly being fully open that way, but the need to please his Luna at the height of that moment was the most important thing. Especially knowing she was considering pups had sparked something in all of them. Did Minho want pups? It was her choice. Minho was always a 'her body, her choice'. Some of the others would definitely like pups and may have been disappointed. Chan even worried she was going to be an anti-pup omega. Now that she had said it, the wolves felt more protective and needy for their Luna. Chan would be the most, he couldn't go to sleep knowing she wanted pups. There was so much he needed to put in place before having one or making one. They needed to build on their cabin to house them. They would need more assets to financially have them because some wolves were overspenders. They needed to make more nests. They needed to make sure all the wolves were ready and some of them looked petrified at the idea like Hyunjin, Felix, Jisung and Seungmin. They were petrified of the idea. Minho, however, wouldn't mind either way. He would be a good father to all his children and the other pups who where not his.

Y/N called out to Minho who shivered again but tried to compose himself at her new status. The power was radiating off of her but she was still the same precious Y/N. Their love just heightened. "Min," Y/N called out again. "Sorry, little wolf. I was lost in thought." Minho promised as he tried to stop the smoke coming from the pan. He was cursing Jisung for asking him to make this. He hated making this. "Last night?!" Y/N asked. "It was new for all of us. *Cough* I hate making this. Sorry. *Cough*" Minho started coughing, while Y/N rushed to open a window. Whatever he was cooking was completely and utterly destroyed. "Anyway. I love you no less if not more. Merry Christmas, little wolf." Minho whispered as he pulled out one of the small gifts from the draw, knowing she would be up first. Y/N opened the gift to see a charm bracelet with a book and a black love heart. She understood the book represented him as an elder, but the black love heart. "Some of them think I'm heartless," Minho whispered with a shrug when Y/N pulled him back for a kiss a heated kiss. Minho gripped her arms, he was still not used to her kisses. He felt like he was having his first kiss all over again. "Who said that about you, huh?" Y/N growled but Minho shook his head. "It's Christmas little wolf." Minho scolded as he pushed her out of the room. "Wait till tomorrow." Y/N pointed.

Y/N headed to the living room to see a pile of presents everywhere. She was stunned. Chan's card must have maxed out again. What is wrong with these wolves? Y/N shook her head trying to find one of the wolves' names but it seemed they were buried underneath hers. "MERRY CHRIST- Where the fuck is baby?" Changbin shouted, making Y/N snicker. "Yah which one of you wolves has her hiding in your room? We need to have a schedule here on who has her each night." "Binnie. I'm downstairs. Stop shouting." Y/N whispered and shouted. She heard Changbin tiptoe to the top of the stairs making Y/N gasp. "You ruined the surprise." Changbin status with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a Santa hat and Christmas boxers with tinsel wrapped around his neck. "What are you wearing?" Jeongin tiredly asked. Jeongin pushed past wearing his tartan pyjamas. "Merry Christmas baby." Jeongin tiredly whispered, giving Y/N a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Going to have a shower before they jump in." Jeongin told her "Mmm okay." Y/N hummed.

Y/N walked back into the kitchen, helping Minho decorate the table for breakfast. It smelled so good. Minho had a talent. He never failed, except whatever he was trying to make this morning. Y/N was so excited about their plans today. The wolves usually had breakfast and opened their presents after. Then everyone would phone their family, some of them like Felix would drop round presents for a few hours while Minho and Jisung cooked Christmas dinner for late afternoon. Then they would play games, eat some more, and prepare for their skiing trip, which Y/N was so excited about.

Chan came up behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. Y/N leaned back and looked up at him with a soft smile. "How are you my Luna?" Chan asked. "Don't call me that," Y/N whined. "We'll keep calling you it until you accept it," Jisung stated making Y/N growl playfully. Jisung rolled his eyes and jumped straight into the food, nearly knocking Minho out the way as he tried to put the food down. Y/N sat down next to Hyunjin and tucked into her food with everyone else. It was a happy moment for them all. After breakfast, Y/N did her first Luna command and commanded Seungmin and Jisung to wash up while they waited for them in the living room. Y/N and Changbin were the two most excited because they brought a present for Chan who looked nervous at them. They hoped he would like it after Y/N's accident. Then there was Felix who was excited for his prank against Changbin.

Once Jisung and Seungmin finished cleaning up they headed into the living room excitedly to open presents. Chan took his heavy present and opened it first to see a desk inside the cardboard box. It was a black and silver desk. "Thanks, guys. I wonder who broke it." Chan said sarcastically. "It was Y/N," Changbin stated as he pointed at Y/N who shrugged. "Sorry Channie." Chan shook his head at Y/N's words before giving her a present. They each handed each other a present and opened it up, each taking it in turns. Minho was very excited about his Cookbook and felt very appreciative of her. Jisung was very excited about his new game and Hyunjin was very excited about his camera. They were all grateful for each other's presents but Y/N was overwhelmed and ended up scolding them for all the gifts. She had nowhere to put them which none of them thought about. They were far too excited about getting her gifts and spoiling her that they didn't think it through.

By the afternoon, Felix, Jisung and Seungmin left to see their family to celebrate while Chan phoned his family. Y/N helped Minho prepare dinner so when dinner was finished they were all back to celebrating. Dinner was a traditional Christmas dinner with Christmas crackers which they pulled and wore the crowns from inside the cracker. After dinner, they played karaoke and monopoly while driving mulled wine until the evening when they packed their suitcases ready for tomorrow when they would head north to the Alps. Apparently, they were seeing the Monsta x wolf pack who lived in the Alps. It was a tradition each year that the two wolf packs coexisted for two weeks to celebrate the coming of the new year and the new werewolf season. They were good friends with this wolf pack and Chan promised they were too a very private wolf pack. Chan also told Y/N they had just been mated with their omega so they were also feeling nervous about outsiders, which reassured Y/N, despite the growing coldness in Y/N's stomach. She didn't know whether it was meeting this group of werewolves or something bad was going to happen.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627

~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~

[xoxochb]

I've been reading ur blurbs for so long and I wanted to ask if you could write Percy x daughter of ares reader? ur my favorite pjo writer <3

— king of my heart ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - “my broken bones are mending with all these nights we’re spending up on the roof with a school girl crush, drinking beer out of plastic cups”

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing per usual, making out, enemies-ish to lovers, 10 things I hate about you reference, littering (don’t do this please!), I’m TERRIBLE at writing love confessions sorry 😣 pairing: percy jackson x daughter of ares

you and percy never really got along. it was useless banter after another, purposely trying to infuriate each other all the time. and for what reason? you were unsure, that’s just the way things were and you accepted them as they were. but as a daughter of ares you suppose anger and hatred ran through you naturally

ignoring, for only a moment, that you hated the son of poseidon it was an undeniable fact that he was incredibly attractive. most people at camp would agree with you on this, it was nearly impossible for you to find someone who hadn’t, at one point, had a crush on him. you hated yourself, truly, for letting yourself see him in this way. but then again, you couldn’t help it, not when he was so… him!

in the midsts of another cabin eleven party you escaped to the roof with a plastic cup of beer. perhaps drinking your problems away will make you forget you liked your enemy of all people. though to your unfortunate luck, the very occupant of your thoughts joins you soon after

“what is that? your third cup?” asks percy, sitting down beside you. you sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to keep your composure before responding,

“fifth”

“gods of olympus…” he murmurs “don’t come crying to me when you’ve got a killer hangover”

“trust me, I won’t”

the atmosphere converted to silence following your statement. it was, though, peaceful, you enjoyed this moment. the cold midnight air nips harmfully along your exposed skin, a dress being the utterly wrong outfit choice for tonight— you suppose it had been worth it because in your defense the dress was stunning, style over comfort always

“what’re you doing up here? I mean, alone?” percy speaks up, breaking the silence

“I just wanted some peace and quiet”

he nods in understanding. you finish up the rest of you drink before throwing the cup off the roof for someone to find during clean up tomorrow morning

“you know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were”

your brows furrow confusedly. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, I just-” percy stops himself from confessing further, conquering a new excuse instead “I always thought you were a terrible person, y’know? always trying to find ways to anger me. but you don’t seem half bad, not really”

you ponder for a moment before responding, “you’re not that bad either”

faintly, just maybe a tad, out of the corner of your eyes you see percy crack a smile, maybe if your delusions weren’t taking over you might have said a light blush painted his cheeks. he glances over at you, seeing your small shivers. gods— he’s so fucked. slowly, he slides off his black leather jacket and places it on your lap suddenly, making your eyes widen in confusion

“you’re cold, aren’t you?”

oh no not the blush. “I- yes. uhm- thank you… percy”

shit, the way his name sounds rolling off your tongue is enough to make him want to do anything for you. he wonders if you were aware of the affect you held over him. the silence became awkward at this point. should you say something? or should you leave and never speak to him again? perhaps it was the alcohol, maybe you were feeling oddly confident, but before you’re aware of what’s happening, your mouth seems to be speaking for you instead

“percy, I- can I tell you something? and promise me you won’t laugh”

“you can tell me something but I can’t make any promises on the laughing situation”

you roll your eyes. “that’s fine. I just- I wanted to tell you… ask you? I don’t know, it’s weird”

“and you’re not?”

“shut the fuck up” despite his idiotic comment you can’t help but laugh. there’s no way you’re about to confess to him “I- like you. and it’s stupid, I shouldn’t like you. but I do unfortunately so now I’m stuck”

“you… like me?”

you roll your eyes. “yes, just— forget it. I’m drunk anyways”

you attempt to crawl away but percy catches you and sits you atop his lap

“drunk words” he places his finger on your mouth, then moves it to your head “are sober thoughts”

“bullshit”

“you think I’m lying?” he laughs “ask anyone here”

“I- I’m not doing that. I’m leaving”

you try to leave again but his hands quickly reach up to grab your waist and keep you in place. you glare at him so hopefully he takes a hint that you’re not having this conversation, but in response he only smirks. suddenly, you feel a warmth along your neck, only when it’s too late do you realize it’s percy’s lips. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe you had wanted this, but you didn’t push him away. though you had questions still

“percy…” you murmur despite the fuzzy television static growing through your brain. he hums along your neck sending a vibration through your body (additionally an insane heat between your legs). “I- you… are you drunk?”

“I don’t drink”

of course he doesn’t

“then what—” you quickly shut your mouth to stop any idiotic thoughts from spilling out. but at the same time percy swiftly slots his lips over yours eliciting a gasp from you. there’s no way he wasn’t drunk, it was bullshit what he says. because who just ups and kisses their enemy because they’re bored? apparently he does. he pull back angrily making him frown

“we can’t— we can’t do this. we’re enemies”

“your point?” he settles for kissing along your neck again. you let that slide for now

“we- I mean… we’re supposed to hate each other”

“who said I ever hated you?”

oh shit

“you did”

he laughs at this, shaking his head in silence. you let your drunken state take over the moment and silence you. your cheeks flush a dark pink shade when your senses are momentarily snapped back as you realize your surroundings

you’re on the roof. with percy, your enemy. who’s currently manipulating you into thinking he never hated you. and he’s got his hands under your shirt and he’s kissing your neck

you’re so fucked

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS | BILLY LOOMIS X READER 𖤐₊˚.

summary: you know he’s in a relationship. you know that this is wrong. but somehow, you just can’t seem to stay away from billy loomis.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, cheating, billy isn’t a great guy lol, reader is insecure, suggestive content, swearing, fem!reader

a/n: yes this is (admittedly a little loosely) based off of the taylor song… I never claimed I was 100% original!! idk what this is tbh but I haven’t posted in a while so <3

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

He’s barely opened the door before his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the rain and into his warm embrace. He doesn’t even complain about your sodden state, lips crashing into yours as he clumsily backs you against the wall.

“I’m glad you made it, baby.” Billy murmurs in between kisses, voice low with lust. “Fuck, I couldn’t wait any longer. See what you do to me?”

God, it makes it so much easier when he talks to you like that. When he talks like he breathes just for you, like you’d hung the stars and moon. It’s easier to pretend that way. 

It doesn’t take long. One moment, your legs are wrapped around Billy’s strong frame and the next, you’re laying beneath him on his bed, sighing as he works on your neck. The marks he leaves are purposeful, and they’ll no doubt be a pain to cover up tomorrow. You tell Billy exactly that, making sure to inject just the right amount of that teasing tone you know drives him crazy into your voice. 

“Good,” he says lowly, “Lets people know you’re spoken for. Can’t have anyone touching what’s mine.” He grinds down as if to emphasise his point, hips meeting yours in a way that sends a jolt of electric thrill through your bones. 

At least, you think that’s what it’s from; maybe it’s all simply down to his choice of words - mine. He knew what that did to you - what visceral effect it must have on you. Knew how much it meant to you to be wanted and desired and cherished by somebody like Billy Loomis. It was all you’d ever wanted. 

Except…

“Except I’m not.” Your voice barely comes out above a whisper. Billy comes to a halt, his lips moving from your collarbone as his brown eyes meet yours. He looks confused and vulnerable in a way that makes you sorry for even bringing it up, but you can’t ignore it. Not now. Not today. 

“You are. You know that you are. You mean everything to me, just-"

“Just not as much as Sidney, right?” Her name tastes like ash in your mouth. It always came back to Sidney Prescott - sweet, smart, stunning, Sidney. The girl who barely knew you yet always made an effort to smile at you in the hallway and compliment your outfits. The girl whose boyfriend you were sleeping with behind her back. 

From the moment he’d flashed you that charming smirk of his, you knew you were a goner for Billy Loomis. And you’d tried to fight it, you really had. He was bad news, all of your friends thought so, and most importantly, he had a girlfriend. Everybody knew him and Sidney were serious. And you were better than that, sleeping with a taken man. 

Except, as it turns out, you weren’t. Not really, anyway. He didn’t even have to try to get you in bed with him, but after the first time, you’d felt so goddamn guilty that you swore it would never happen again. 

Your resolve lasted an entire week. Billy was like a drug, alluring in every possible way and so entirely addictive. You couldn’t stay away from him even if you tried. And although the guilt never entirely disappeared, it sure as hell became easier to ignore when Billy whispered sweet nothings into your ear and made you feel like you’d had everything you’d been missing your entire life. 

“Sidney?” Billy laughs, a sound almost as beautiful as he is. “Sidney means nothing to me. I’m going to blow her off, and then we can really be together, do it right.”

As awful as it is, the thought of that seems completely compelling. You want to be Billy’s, utterly and solely, more than anything on this earth. Besides, anything would be better than passing him in the hallway and pretending you don’t know every fraction of him so completely intimately.  Pretending like he’s not the first and last thing you think of each day. Pretending that you don’t solely wear the single perfume that he complimented once.

So intimately that you know that, at this moment in time, you can’t believe a single word that flows from his mouth - no matter how desperately you want them to be true. 

“Billy,” you sigh, turning your head away from his pleading gaze. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he replies rather impatiently. “You know it’s-"

“Complicated,” you finish miserably. “I just don’t get why it has to be!”

“Look, I can’t talk about this right now. Can’t we just…” 

He trails off, and his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. It’s too easy to sink into it, to sit back and just let Billy take the lead and give you just what you want. It’s damn near impossible to pull back, but by some miracle, you manage to do so. 

“I’m just saying,” you protest. “If you can’t stand Sidney, if she’s truly as bad as you say she is, why can’t you just end things with her?” The sheer frustration that laces your tone is evident even to you. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Billy, it’s driving me insane, I-"

“What, so you’re mad at me now?” Billy scoffs, tone completely accusatory. “Because you knew what you were getting into - you’re hardly innocent here, alright! I didn’t trick you into sleeping with me - last I checked, you're perfectly fine with our arrangement when it means you get to be the one under me! So why d’you even care, huh - in fact, why don’t you do us both a favour and keep the fuck out of my business?”

You reel back as if you’ve been slapped. Not because of what was said - you both know the words to be true, however deep down that is - but because of how much they hurt. You knew you were a horrible person, but you hoped that Billy saw you as more than that - you needed him to see you as more than that. And by the way he usually acted in your company when it was just the two of you, you thought that he did. When you were alone, he worshipped you. Fuck, the boy looked at you as if he was completely and utterly in awe of your mere presence. And he’d definitely never snapped at you like this. 

It’s one thing hating yourself for what you’re doing, but it’s another having the one person you love so deeply confirm all the ugly parts of your personality that you work so hard to keep hidden from the world. 

He can evidently read the hurt written all over your face, and Billy’s once irritated gaze softens. “Shit,” he breathes, and you can’t tell if he genuinely sounds remorseful or if you’re naively hearing what you want to believe. 

It’s easier to go with the latter option. 

You make a move to stand, but you feel a strong arm pulling you back down onto the bed below. “I’m so sorry,” Billy apologises, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m being an ass, I know that. I didn’t mean to take it out on you, baby.” With your arm still in his tight grasp, it would be difficult to stand up without outright pushing him away from you. But with each hushed word Billy speaks, you find yourself wanting to stay more and more. After all, he was right. You were already guilty, and your dignity was clearly long gone. What would be the use in leaving? It’s not like you could fall any further from grace. 

Your eyes flutter closed as Billy kisses all along your jaw, mumbling apologies under his breath as he does so. “I’ll fix everything, I swear. You’ve just gotta trust me,” he vows before his lips suddenly move beside your ear. His breath is hot as he murmurs, “you do trust me, right doll?” A small, pathetic whimper escapes from the back of your throat, and you find yourself nodding before you even decide to move. 

“That’s my girl.” The honey-sweet tone of his voice is enough to make you crumble, and your fingers desperately start to make work of undoing his belt. It doesn’t take long, what with your hands working practically on autopilot. Billy takes the hint, and he eagerly pulls your shirt over your head with ease, strong fingers unclasping your bra once he’s finished. 

You’re making a complete fool of yourself, a bitter voice whispers at the edge of your mind. He’s spelled it out for you, and yet you’re still here, letting him undress you like this. How pitiful. 

It’s not incorrect. Billy Loomis had undoubtedly made a mess of you. Ruined you. Before all of this - and God, how long ago that seemed now - you were good. You were headstrong and assertive, and you’d never been one to let people walk all over you. That girl was a far cry from the person you were now, and she’d undeniably despise the idiotic fool you’d become.  

You wouldn’t exactly blame her, either. You know that when you get home, you won’t even be able to face your own reflection. You never can. 

But you also know damn well that when Billy undoubtedly comes running back to you, because he does, every single time without fail, you’ll blindly follow him right back into his arms - and right back into his bed. 

It’s awful. You know that, no matter how much parts of you try to pretend otherwise. There’s no sugarcoating it, no justification for your actions that aren’t completely shallow and selfish. You just have to hope that one day, you’ll snap out of it. If Billy doesn’t choose you - accept you fully like the way you accepted him long ago - you like to think that one day, you’ll have the self-respect to leave and tell Sidney the truth. Hope she’d accept your shitty excuse of an apology. But as you lay here in this room right now, back arched and Billy in between your legs, you know that day won’t be any time soon.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

[evanpeterspeter]

Warren Lipka - part 2

Part 1 here💗

AN: kinda gotta leave y’all on a slight cliffhanger, my lovely pookies. 😼🫶

TW: yelling, slight abuse? Violence, M receiving and F receving, and just some smut ig.

Wc: 2.7k

———————————————————————————

It's been about a week now, you and Warren have been getting closer together. Such as in gaming together, smoking and having deep conversations together and low-key flirting with each other. Today was the day Spencer comes back from his trip and Spencer seems more excited than usual. The keys jingle on the lock from outside, unlocking the door for Spencer to come in. Warren is in his usual spot and is playing video games, and you were in the bedroom studying on your next assignment. Spencer dropped his things by the door, shedding off his shoes and coat. "Hey, Warren." Spencer said in such an emphatic tone. Warren raised a brow, not looking away from the flashing screen. "Hey? How was your trip nerd?" He said to Spencer, not taking an eye off his game. "It was good, I'm finally gonna do it man." He said as he smiled to himself. "Uh huh." Warren said mindlessly, not paying attention.

Spencer walked over to your door. He stood there, heart racing, his breath in a hitch and his hand in a fist against the faded wooden door. He took a deep breath in and knocked. "Come in." You projected from the other side. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He saw you sitting with one knee propped up towards the ceiling and you sitting with your left leg underneath the right propped leg. You look up at Spencer with a soft smile and tilted your head. "How was your trip dude?" He smiled from your warm welcome and sat on the bed next to you. His hands were in between his knees, squeezing them together. "It was great! Met new people and old family." He looked up at you with glistening eyes. "I saw that asshole cousin of mine, Gabe." You gasp and chuckle. "Ew! Really?! What a weirdo!" You said shaking your head. Spencer admired how your smile created soft creases in your cheeks and how whenever you laugh, you tuck that one side of hair behind your ear. "Y-y/n?" He said skittishly, playing with his fingers. "Yes, Spencer?" You said in a sweet tone. "I-.." he clears his throat. "D-did you want to go get some coffee with me tomorrow?" You tilt you head, slightly puzzled. "Spencer, we always get coffee together. What's different about it this time?" He rubs the back of his neck looking down. "Well..I-I was thinking maybe we could go out on a-.. on a date?" He cringed with his last words. Your eyes widened and you felt your gut drop. you felt frozen. You never saw him romantically and it was such bad timing, especially since you've slept with his best friend. You looked over and he turns his head facing you, looking for a response. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out what to say. "Please?.." Spencer pleaded. You felt pressured and nodded in fear of hurting him. He smiles big and stands up clasping his hands together. "It's a date!" He smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him. You stare at the door, utterly stunned at what happened and you get this overwhelming feeling of dread hit. You loved Spencer, but not like that. You saw him as your grooms-maid, not your groom. You gather your books and plop them onto the cold wooden floors. You cover yourself in your sheets, hiding from this confusing world.

~

You got up and got ready for the day. You wore a soft silk black skirt, a fancy patterned tights that kind of like fishnets, a torn tight fitting Led Zeppelin shirt and some beat up black boots. You put on your accessories, and then grabbed your bag. Spencer stands by the front door, opening it for you. You look over seeing Warren still sleeping. You felt your heart ache, as if you were cheating on him, even though you aren't even dating. You look back up at Spencer and he had a huge grin plastered across his face.

You guys arrived at the Cafe place, Spencer opened the car door for you, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You sheepishly extended your hand and he guided you out the vehicle, shutting the door and walking you to the cafe door. As you and Spencer walked it you were hit with the warm smell of freshly grounded coffee and the sweet smell of glazed treats that sit pretty in the glass windows by the front counter. You've always loved cafes and especially with your dad growing up. The thought made you feel some slight sense of comfort, but the thought of being here for romantic reasons with your best friend made you feel so uneasy.

"Y-you look beautiful today, Y/n." Spencer choked out nervously. You reddened at the comment and gave a shed a small meek smile. "T-thanks, Spencer." He walks to counter with your hand still in tangled with his, and he spoke to the barista. "H-hi! Can I get a large hot coffee with 4 creams and no sugar." He turned to you with a soft smile, then to look back at the barista. "And she'll have a large iced vanilla coffee with whip cream on top and caramel drizzle." You smiled sincerely as he always remembered your favorite coffee.

You and Spencer find a seat outside, he pulled the chair out for you and himself. The sun shined bright, making all your features shine just as bright as the sun. You saw Spencer's face turn to a bright pink, feeling rather flushed from your beautiful features.

You and Spencer talked for what seemed like hours, he scooted closer you. You had your hands clasped together on the fake wooded cafe table. Spencer dug your hand out from in between and held it, intercrossing his fingers between yours. You looked at him with your nervous eyes. He continued to speak as if nothing came of it.

Next thing you know, he cupped your face with both hands and pulled you into a sharp kiss. Your eyes widened and you Immediately pushed away gasping. Spencer jumps back being startled. You wiped your lips and shook your head. "I-im sorry Spencer. I just.. I panicked. I'm sorry..." you looked at him. He rubs the back of his neck, extremely embarrassed. "M-maybe we should get back to the apartment." You nodded eagerly and stood up gripping to your purse close to your body.

The ride back was very quiet and the tension was tight. Once we arrived at the apartment, he unlocked the door. "Y-Y/n.. you can head in. I have to-.. I mean.. I'm gonna stop by the university to uh..study...if that's okay with you.." you nodded while holding the handle to the door eagerly waiting to leave. "Y-yeah of course! Uhm...yeah..just let me know if you need anything." You said giving a pressured smile. You fled out the car, trying to scurry in from the sharp cold that ate though your skirt. Spencer promptly drove off and you unlocked the front door.

As you walked in you noticed Warren eating some sort of concoction of a panini sandwich with Mac and cheese inside of it. You took notice of the box it was sitting in.. 'is that from the cafe Spencer and I went to?' You thought to yourself. "Hey, Warren." He didn't even look up at you, taking a bite out of whatever the hell he was eating. "Warren?" You said while putting your purse on the counter. "Hello?" You said but more stern. "Warren.." you said walking to him. You tapped his shoulder and he smacked your hand away. "What the fuck,Warren?!" You said stepping back. "What's your fucking problem?" He plopped his food on the small end table in front of him, standing up abruptly facing you with an irate expression. You step back looking up at him, feeling anxious but mad. "What's YOUR problem." He said while poking you chest harshly. You push him away hard. "Why are you being a fucking dick?! I did nothing wrong!" He steps forward, poking you again but harder. The kind of poke that'll leave a bruise. "Maybe if you weren't such a fucking whore I wouldn't have a problem!" Your brows furrowed and you push him harder. "Why would you call me that?!" "Because you're just kissing anyone and everyone." You shook your head. "What are you talking about?!" "I saw you and Spencer kissing and holding hands like as if you were about to have sex on the fucking table!" Your eyes widened and you step back shaking your head. "I didn't want that! I don't even like him like that! And for your information HE kissed ME! Why is it even a problem anyways? Am I not allowed to go out with a man? We're not even dating!" You pushed him one last time, that being the last straw that broke the camels back. Warren wrapped his hand around your neck, slamming you against the wall with his other hand behind your head to prevent your head from harshly hitting the wall. You look into each other's eyes, yours welling up into tears, feeling scared but also feeling a slight sensation of euphoria. His body was pressed against yours. A single tear falls down your cheek. Warren lets go of your neck and cups your delicate face and looks at both of your beautiful glistening eyes. His eyes well up too, becoming red in the face he pulls you to a tight hug hiding his face in the small curvature of your neck. "I-Im so sorry Y/n. I would never hurt you. I don't know what got into me."

You cradled his head closer and leaned your head on top of his, planting a soft kiss on top. He gently dropped his hands to the side of your waist to pull you closer. You felt a slight tingle in your lower belly, as you felt his member against your lower stomach. Your breathing hitched because you felt him grow against you. He lifted his head up, looking at you with a slight of swollen red eyes. It wasn't the high kind of red eyes, it was the pain in your heart swollen eyes. You felt that pain, the way he looked at you with puppy eyes, his soft but strained breathing, the way his hair fell in front of his face. You tucked a small bunch of his hair and tucked it behind his ear, rubbing his stubbled cheek you leaned into a gentle kiss.

You and Warren locked lips. You palm your hand against his hard cock, gently massaging it. He lets off breathy silent moans in between kisses. You pull away looking into his dark eager eyes and you slowly slide down the wall to get to your knees. Warren looked at you with confusion but immediately it clicked. As you got onto you knelt down below him, you grabbed his gray sweatpants by the elastic band, pulling it down, as his cock sprung up free from being contained in such gray cotton. You wrapped your gentle, soft hand around his firm base. You slowly pump him up and down, leaning forward to press soft kisses on his tender, pink head. Warren grabbed your hair, pulling it to a messy pony and wrapped his hand around the bunch. You began to kitten lick his sensitive tip. He let out a deep groan, looking down at you, you looked up at him, you fluttered your long lashes with big doe eyes. He was flushed by the way you looked up at him. You decided to take him into your mouth, It was warm and soft.

"F-fuck.." He said closing his eyes in pleasure. "You're doing such a great job.." the small praise made you even more wet. You took him all the way down to the base until your nose was nuzzled into the small tuff of hair. It had a slight scent of fresh laundry, most likely from his sweat pants. He looked back down, impressed with how much you took of him in your cute petit mouth. "That's my good girl.." he said in a velvety tone with a slight smirk. You bobbed your head back and forth with more passion. You pulled off with a pop and used your right hand to jerk him fast. "Aren't you my little princess, doing such a good job." the way he praised you made you squeeze your thighs together, to contain the pulses in your wet bundle. You take him back into your mouth and sucked him off. He used his free hand to caress your hollowed out cheeks. He bucked his hip in and out your mouth, using your hair to face fuck you. You had drool and precum seeping through your lips, onto your chin. "Fuck I'm going to cum baby.." you pulled off, pumping him fast and you opened your mouth, resting his tip on your tongue, while looking up at him. Warren cums all in your mouth, as all the salty cum and saliva roll off your tongue and onto your chin, neck and shirt. Warren let out a mouthful of profanities as his high was slowly fading.

Warren looked down at you with a weak smile and helped you up from your knees. "Wow, my girl made such a mess. I bet she also made such a mess somewhere else." He slid his way into your sheer panties and dipped his fingers in between your folds and collected your slick, lifting it up to his lip and sucking it off. "Mmm..you're so wet.." he smirked. He lifted you and laid you down on the counter top, spreading your legs open. He leaned forward wiping your face and chin with whatever rag was near by. Warren had moved your pantie bottom to the side of your lips and he bent forward licking a strip up your soaked cunt. You let out a mewl and arched your back. "Mmmm.." you let out loud. Warren chuckled and went back down to flick your clit with his tongue. He sucked his right middle finger and pointer finger, sliding them into your entrance, curving them up against your plump walls. You let out some whimpers and grabbed the back of Warrens hair. You grind against his tongue and he finger fucks you. "F-fuck, Warren...mmmm."

"What the fuck?!"

You sprung up looking at the front door. There standing, Spencer with flowers and a bag of groceries, that seemed to be all my favorite comfort foods. Your eyes were wide and mouth agape. "Spencer!..I-I  can explain!" You shouted while putting your skirt down. Spencer threw everything onto the floor and walked up to Warren. Warren stood up and faced him as he was hit in the face with Spencer's fist. "Agh!" Spencer shouted as he flicked his hand in pain from the blow of his fist against his best friend's face. "F-Fuck you, Warren! You k-knew I loved her!" He weeped, as his face was tomato red and wet full of tears. "A-and fuck you too Y/n! You're not my friend anymore! I hate you! And you know what? Warren I want you out of this fucking apartment tonight!" He turned around, stepping on the flowers and stormed out the door.

You immediately hopped off the counter and went to Warrens aid. "Warren..I'm so sorry.. oh my god.." you held his bloody face as he winced at your action, causing him pain. "I'm okay, Y/n, I'm fine.."

"No, Warren you're not. Your nose is bleeding." You went into the kitchen to collect some paper towels and you came back, placing it to his face. He took it from you and walked to the living room, aka his living area, and grabbed his duffel bag, packing things up.

"W-Warren you're not actually leaving..right?.." you said with a half broken heart. He continued to pack in silence. "Please, Warren don't leave..I don't want you to leave.." he paused but then went back to packing. "W-well..I also signed the lease..so it's also my apartment too..he can't just kick you out! I have say so too!" You shouted in frustration. All though, Warren continued to pack.

———————————————————————————

Taglist: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazzberrysblog

[nessacousland]

It's so funny to me how Elgar'nan's and Ghilan'nain's "rahhh power" portrayal aptly ends up making the OG evil Tevinter magister Corypheus look so very mortal in comparison. How he'd hate it!

"Betrayed" disciple seeking to usurp the empty throne of his gods out of pure spite is just peak human energy. He raises people to his side who feel similarly wronged by the world as it stands - Calpernia, with her dreams of uplifting Tevinter's slaves and revitalizing this broken empire, and Samson, abandoned and tossed in the gutter by the very faith he once gave everything to defend. He is politicking (Orlais), he's manipulating (the Wardens), he's preaching to his cult about a glorious tomorrow, scrounging through the remains of the Elvhenan for scraps and imitating their greatest achievements (the archdemon) - and utterly fails to realize that he's just retracing the same path that doomed him in the first place. Because, after everything, this blighted existence of his has to mean something. The Black City will be golden. It was supposed to be golden!

Meanwhile, the Evanuris go looking for the biggest "bullies" around (thanks, Veilguard, for that stunning characterization) and from there, it's one brutal show of force after another. Their goal? Godhood. Their motivation? Godhood.

For all his ambition, next to these two, copycat Corypheus couldn't appear more human if he tried. Because embarrassingly enough for the entire mythos surrounding the ancestral Tevinter Imperium - and a big win for the Chant of Light - a human beholding the proverbial seat of the Maker will return as fallible and cringe as the rest of us, and die crying out for a god he knows is false.

It's just a shame that this final epic fail of his came at the cost of any sense of dignity or respect that the narrative affords to the elven people and their mythos. Human faith, erroneous as it is, is a tragedy full of pathos, even at its worst hubris. Elven faith is an empty lie waiting to be disproven and beaten into the dirt by Video Game Protagonist™.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Chapter I // Chapter III

Summary: Feyre takes some time to talk with one of her more reserved students, unveiling an adorable, yet heartbreaking Christmas wish.

OR

Rhys' little sister gets him a girlfriend.

AN: Hi, is anyone still reading this? I know it's been a year. I'm sorry, it just got lost in all of my WIPs. Merry Christmas, y'all.

Chapter II

Feyre

"Set up by a six-year-old. This is the most adorable story I've heard, Feyre."

"Morrigan," she growled into the phone.

"Okay, okay. First things first, is he attractive?" 

Feyre huffed. "Attractive would be an understatement. He's also a pain in the ass who likes surprises. What does 'dress nice-ish' mean to you when talking about a first date? It's dinner, but..."

"But?"

"Dinner with my college dates meant going out to a burger joint. They were broke college guys. Now I'm going to dinner with a guy who just inherited a multimillion dollar company. I don't know what

that says about him because the only conversations we've exchanged have been about art lessons and going on this date! I am so in over my head, Mor.”

Her friend was silent for a minute. “Feyre, you met at the studio, right? This guy’s seen you covered in paint and wearing an old t-shirt. Whatever you put on tonight isn’t going to scare him off, I promise.”

”I’ve never been covered in paint,” she snipped, pulling a butter-soft cashmere sweater over her head. "And you aren't being helpful." Cursing the clock hanging in her tiny bedroom, she grabbed a pair of dangling earrings and stuffed her feet into her flats. "I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Don't do anything completely stupid," Mor told her teasingly, ending it too quickly for Feyre to give a retort. Rolling her eyes, Feyre shoved her phone into her crossbody, throwing it over her head and sliding her coat on overtop. 

Rhys was leaning against the front desk, chatting with Ressina when Feyre finally got downstairs. Once again, her collegue quickly found some place else to be. "Sorry. I was just... Anyways, I'm ready now." He was quiet for a moment, standing a little straighter as he took her in. To her relief, he wasn't dressed any more formally than she was, going with a button down shirt and dark-washed jeans.

"Is this... okay?"

"Of course. You look stunning, Feyre darling." She really wanted to say he was overdoing it with the endearment, but that little fluttering in her stomach was growing stronger and regardless of what she wanted to pretend, the truth of the matter was she wouldn't mind hearing him call her that again. He offered his arm and an utterly disarming smile. "Shall we?"

"We shall." 

Their night was utterly magical.

Not only did Rhys treat her to an amazing dinner at a little mom-and-pop italian restaurant, but the riverwalk to follow was spectacular, watching the Christmas lights reflecting by the water, each ripple colored by the light show keeping time with the holiday repertoire. "This is brilliant. I've never even heard about his show. Do they do it every year?"

"A few times a week, all through December. My mom heard about it when I was just a kid. We went every year. It's a little bittersweet now. For me. Avy refused to come out this year."

"I can't imagine it's easy for either of you." She laced her fingers through his. "I know what it's like, being strong for the people around you. If you ever need to talk, or just not be strong..."

Rhys swallowed, nodding once, though it didn't seem all that sincere. But she didn't know him well enough to push. After all, this date was all that was between them so far. "When did you start learning to paint?" he asked, turning the subject on its head. "You're quite talented from the little I've seen."

"I started in school. My parents wouldn't entertain the thought of lessons for something so frivolous, but they couldn't stop me from self-teaching or taking art electives when I got older. So I got better and broke away from them as soon as I could. Went to community college and university later. That's where I met Ressina. Now we have the studio."

"You live there too?"

"On the second floor. Apartments in that area are insane and the space was there, empty. It works for me, and Ressina has a place with her husband, so..."

He gave a soft hum, stroking a thumb over her pulse point before threading their fingers together. "Tell me more."

She raised her brows. "More?"

"What you love, what you hate. Discarded dreams. I want to know everything, Feyre."

She blinked, a bit shocked. When was the last time a guy had wanted to hear about the little things?

"Well..."

The following Tuesday was interesting. Rhys was discreet, offering a smile as he helped his sister out of her coat, but nothing more. As for Avyanna… Even starting to come out of her shell in the weeks before, Feyre had never seen her show so much excitement at her lessons. Her brother must have made her promise not to question Feyre about Saturday, even if the girl seemed near bursting with her curiosity about Feyre’s side of the story. 

Ressina was an angel, taking that side of the table for the evening class to ease some of the awkwardness. The session went smoothly enough, all things considered. “What did I tell you?” her partner murmured, passing out the ornaments from the week before in exchange for that evening’s paintings. “Unwarranted worries, hm?”

“Miss Feyre,” she heard, the familiar voice still reserved, but a lightle brighter than usual.

Feyre smilled, turning around. “Let’s find your angel, shall we, Avy?”

“Miss Feyre.” Her hand froze over the piece from the week prior. “I wanted to tell you, after art we go home for dinner and have hot cocoa before bed.”

“Is that so?” Her smile grew at that, especially when she glanced up to find Rhys shaking his head, exasperated. “That sounds like fun, sweetheart.”

“You should come with us.”

“And that is enough from you, goof troop. I’m sure Miss Feyre has plans of her own this evening.”

“Rhys, you said you were gonna ask her on another date and you haven’t yet.” Feyre, whipped around, covering her mouth before her laughter could encourage the child standing between them to help her brother along in his dating endeavors. “Rhys.”

“Alright, you impatient little menace. Get your coat.” The next time Feyre turned, Rhys was trying to hide his own smile. “I think her teenage years will actually take me to my grave.”

“Let’s hope it’s just a few gray hairs. I don’t find a silver fox too shabby.”

Eyes bright with mischief, Rhys offered her his arm. “Dinner, darling? With the company of a six year old. I don’t know that I need to promise any further entertainment at this rate.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

[satureja13]

Winter Solstice Since Summer Solstice in June, the Night has stolen a few minutes of light every day - until today. Therefore today is the longest night of the year - and the beginning of the long, cold winter. But - just like a miracle - from tomorrow on, the days are getting longer. Leading us through the darkness until summer starts again. This is my favourite festival throughout the whole year. Because even when you hit rock bottom and you think you will never see the light again - there is still hope. And the sureness the light will come back. And the best thing: You don't even have to do anything to get the light back - it just happens! A happy Winter Solstice, y'all - may the light come back into your life <3

At Batuu, the light comes back even three times stronger with it's three suns. Saiwa, Jeb and Jeb went back to the woodlands, where they'd left the stolen borrowed shuttle. Lt. Agnon and Kylo Ren already arrived for the handover.

Lt. Agnon: "B.D will be here soon and we'll make a short briefing. Then we start the broadcast and tell the folks how we solved this diplomatically and peaceful." Saiwa nodded: "Sure." It's hard for all of them to remain professional to not endanger their mission. How hard must it have been for Albaleyh!

And finally the shuttle from Belsavis, the prison planet, landed - with B.D on board! Lt. Agnon had kept his promise.

And Saiwa is glad they'd left Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack at the cantina. They are still a bit dazzled. But Vlad would have made a huge fuzz for sure if he'd been here...

But they sat quietly at their table, trying to process everything. They don't remember much. Vlad had been shocked by the Stormtrooper after throwing a tantrum, Jack had collapsed because he can't stand being locked up and Ji Ho shut down completely, overwhelmed by their feelings that had hit him through the Bond... Ji Ho: "Why are these people staring at us?" Jack: "I don't know!"

But then the broadcast started. Jack, still a bit out of it, dreamily sighed: "Look how hot Kiyoshi looks..." Vlad was having a hard time looking at the man who had tried to take Ji Ho from them - him - and avoided to look at the screen...

None of them has an idea how it had happened that all of them and B.D are free now. Cantina Guest: "They are friends of Lenny, the Legendary, you know? He made all this possible! Lenny finally brought peace to Batuu." Cantina Guest 2: "You sure? They look a bit - drably..." Cantina Guest: "Pshhhhh! If Lenny hears you!" Vlad: "Tch."

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack left the cantina. Too much commotion for their still dazzled brains. The fresh air will do them good. And Jack was still hungry, so they sat at a food stand. Vlad and Jack are still utterly amazed of how stunning it is here. They don't want to leave Batuu - ever.

Jack: "I mean, we're drinking Bantha Milk while looking at a TIE Echelon in a Galaxy far far away!"

And that was when Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon returned from the broadcast... Master Ren looked longingly over to Jino... Of course he'd seen them.

Whether Vlad didn't understand how fragile this new peace was - or he just couldn't contain his anger. He never can when it comes to Ji Ho... "Hey, you!" he yelled in Kylo Ren's direction.

Before Jack could stop him, Vlad ran over, still a bit wonky on his legs, but he has to make a point. Master Ren and Vlad produced their lightsabers. Vlad: "This is for what you did to Jino - and Ji Ho!"

Master Ren: "You should have left him with me - you have nothing to offer him! He should belong to someone who loves and cherishes him."

Ji Ho: "Vlad is so hot..." Jack: "I know, right?! Damn - even I think he's hot!" Ji Ho: "Eh - did I say that out loud?" Jack: "What do you mean?"

Vlad: "Ji Ho belongs to no one! He's free to make his own choices!"

They kept on fighting for a while until Lt. Agnon cleared his throat. Lt. Agnon: "Master, it's time to end this if we don't want to taint our new found peace."

But before they ended this, Vlad took one last strike. Vlad: "And this is for Han!"

Spoiler: Kylo Ren killed his father Han Solo in 'The Force Awakens'. And neither I nor Jack and Vlad will ever forgive him! (I didn't even watch those movies ^^' They didn't happen ö.ö')

Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon went back to the First Order Building and Vlad back to Ji Ho. Ji Ho: "I wouldn't mind belonging..." Vlad: "To him?! Fine! If that's what you want!"

Ji Ho: "I want to belong to you." Vlad: "Oh..." Jack: "Aouwwwww!"

Let's cherish this as long as it lasts and they're still dazzled ^^'

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack eventually arrived at the campsite by the shuttle where they are supposed to spend the night. B.D will leave early tomorrow morning to meet his kids, he'd already called them. And as soon as the Boys found a hike to the orbit, where Great A'Tuin is waiting for them, they will leave Batuu too.

'Later on, we'll conspire, As we dream by the fire To face unafraid, The plans that we've made, Walking in a winter wonderland.'

Macy Gray - Winter Wonderland (This is my favourite version of this song)

Jack and Vlad wanted to know everything about B.D's adventures and they chatted excitedly - when B.D suddenly looked up: "Now these are some weird meteorites!" Jack: "Meteorites? Where?" B.D: "Over there, above the trees!"

Jack: "The meteorites! They are back! And they're leading us the way!"

Meanwhile at the First Order Building - at Kylo Ren's apartment. After the fight with Val, the Master felt the need to use Lt. Agnon again. To help him to forget about Jino. The Master even left his mask on! A secret little kink of Lt. Agnon :3 Lt. Agnon: "Master... the shaft of your lightsaber is poking me. You should set it aside." Master Ren: "This isn't my lightsaber..." Lt. Agnon sucked in a breath: "Oh, Master! *Lt. Agnon's hand wandered down beneath the blanket* Is this - all - for me?" Master Ren: "It is, Tarek. You did well today, bringing peace to Batuu - and for me." The Master also never called Lt. Agnon by his first name before - Tarek.

The Master usually took Lt. Agnon in the closet when he needed to use him to forget about Jino. This was the first time he took him to his bed. Hope is the last to die. The Master has a lot to forget about this Boy and Lt. Agnon has a lot of hope...

(The meaning of the name Tarek is: Quote: 'Tarek is a masculine name of Arabic origin. A variant of Tariq, this name translates to “night visitor” or “knocker at the door,” referring to visitors travelling at night. In the Qur'an, it also means “bright star,” which leads the way through the darkness.') (Lt. Agnon has no confirmed first name. Tarek is non-canon only for us ^^' I think it matches him, and for this Winter Solstice episode that wouldn't have went so well without his help.)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[dekusleftsock]

I’m so obsessed with them I can’t fucking sleep

I HAVE TO BE SOMEWHERE TOMORROW AND ITS 2:30 IN THE FUCKING MORNING

They take up so much space in my god damn MIND. RIGHT NOW.

I think I didn’t give horikoshi enough credit. For so long I literally thought toga was some sort of fetish character, but she’s not. She’s so so so far from it. I thought she wasn’t a good representative of the queer experience, but she’s just NOT.

And to see a girl in a manga address a boob in a not necessarily sexual and/or joking context, but simply because it fit the symbolism and importance of that moment? I never would have expected that from a male writer, especially a male manga writer like horikoshi.

And the absolute amazing dialogue and writing they did for toga and the rest of the league, and then to ochako and toga? To be open and honest that, maybe it is ego, but what matters is that she truly and utterly cares about toga, the real her. The person she currently is. It’s fucking stunning and amazing and I just can’t stop thinking about it.

Toga and Katsuki, the two characters who were shamed for their selfish and deviant ideas of heroics and love.. being praised by the person they love.

Izuku you selfish bastard.

Ochako you selfish bastard.

I love it. They’re all selfish. Because love makes them selfish. Holy fuck I’m so gay right now kmskmskmskmskmskmskmskms

[qcswrites]

Sowing the Seeds of Love - Part II: Full Bloom

Read Part I - Budding Love HERE :)

Synopsis: Burdened by his duties from a young age, Neteyam had little time to partake in the joys of youthful romance, his only release being fleeting moments of intimacy with various females. His longing for a more passionate affair had begun with a burning desire to have you. But you never saw him.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya Reader

Content: Romance, Fluff, Drama, Angst, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Word count: 10k

Author's note: Hello, friends! I'm back! This took longer than planned but it's a little longer than the first chapter so I hope that helps :) It's Neteyam's POV before/during/after the events of Part I. P.S. there's a tiny B99 reference somewhere in here. If you happen to catch it, we could be friends haha hope you enjoy!

I hope I haven't missed anyone but thank you all for enjoying my work :) @vivid-ink @ntymavtr @swaggygurlbae @vintaqestar @mahalkomarvel @riatesullironalite @luvteyams @investedreader

Also on AO3: Full Bloom

Your hair was arranged prettily atop your head, flowers tucked carefully into it, peeking out from behind the pointed tips of your ears. You were stunning. For many months now, Neteyam had burned for you, with the closeness of your families morphing into a slow form of torture. Night after night, he had sat across from you, forced to sate his desires with only the proximity of your delectable scent. 

“Neteyam.” Your voice startled him out of his reverie.

“Yes?”

“Some more stew?” You offered, blinking up at him innocently, holding a bowl of yerik stew. 

“Ah.” He accepted the bowl easily, shivering ever so slightly when his fingertips grazed yours during the exchange. He rarely spoke to you, though it was not for lack of interest. Clearly. In truth, he found himself severely lacking in nerve when it came to approaching you outside of the meals you shared with his family. Some mighty warrior he was. 

He had grown up alongside you, a natural consequence of your parents’ long-standing friendship. Yet, he had never quite managed the closeness that you shared with his brother. Much of his youth had been spent training and learning the ways of the future leadership of the clan, and he had always eschewed notions of romance, his only release being fleeting moments of intimacy with various females. 

Though your paths rarely crossed in the daytimes, he had harboured a quiet affection for you. Fondness would come to him, unbidden, as he watched you patiently care for Txep and treat the injured when he visited his grandmother in the healer’s alcove. 

Only in the last while, his fondness had morphed into something more. It had become an ache that left his heart racing in the daytimes and skin slick with perspiration in the nights as titillating images of you flashed through his mind more frequently than he’d care to admit. 

But you never saw him. Neteyam had wondered many times in the moons past whether you could feel his burning gaze on you, eventually coming to the bitter conclusion that his newfound desires went completely unnoticed. It seemed inconceivable for his world to have shifted on its axis the way it had and for yours to have remained the same. But that was the reality….

Neteyam let himself indulge in a moment of weakness then, allowing himself the pleasure of thinking that it had been his face you had imagined as you adorned your hair with pretty flowers earlier that evening. But it was a lie. Those flowers were not for him, but for the man seated next to you. 

Irritation flared in his gut as he caught your gaze lingering on his brother as he laughed jovially at some joke that he had himself had missed, too caught up in lamenting the tragic state of affairs he found himself in. More maddening was the fact that Lo’ak, the skxawng, was utterly oblivious to your affections. 

“Bro? You there? Hello?” Neteyam started as a hand waved in his face. 

“What?”

“Dad was asking about tomorrow,” Lo’ak continued, slightly amused at his bleariness. “You know? The mission?”

“Ah,” Neteyam said, reverting to warrior-mode, momentarily forgetting his disgruntlement. “The scout party has reported some unusual activity on the edge of the settlement.”

“Could it be hostiles? His father enquired, concern colouring his expression. Though it had been years since the tawtute had been banished from their lands, deep-seated misgivings between the clans had persisted, manifesting in occasional skirmishes along territorial boundaries. 

“The scout party believes so,” he answered in the affirmative, expression turning grave at the thought of what the next day would bring. Hostiles were often outcasts with limited supplies and capacity to inflict harm on their people. But, he knew better than to underestimate the tenacity of men with little left to lose. 

“What’s the plan?”

“The scout party believes that they have set up camp near the waterfall. We will surround the area after dawn tomorrow and secure it.” Neteyam continued, quietly relieved for the distraction from his own inner turmoil. 

“They’ll put up a fight, no doubt,” added Lo’ak, a faint smile playing on his lips. 

Neteyam shook his head at his brother’s cavalier attitude. Lo’ak had a proclivity for missions such as this, which were fraught with danger, finding a thrill amidst the peril. “It’s not a laughing matter, bro,” he rebuked, expression darkening at the memory. “Aran nearly lost his arm from the infection.”

Lo’ak only waved him off. “Nothing will happen,” he remarked, eyes flicking over to you as he spoke his next words. “And if it did, you’ll patch me up, won’t you?”

Neteyam turned to face you, watching as a faint blush coloured your cheeks at his words. “Of course.”

A heat brewed low in his belly at the sight, followed immediately by a wave of guilt at his own misplaced anger. He knew he was being unfair, in that you knew nothing of his feelings for you, let alone returned them.

He loved his brother more than life itself but in truth, he could not help but wonder why you pined after him so. Lo’ak was handsome, well-liked by the women of the clan and had his fair share of casual dalliances. You stood by and watched it all while still never wavering in your feelings for the man. If he did not feel so conflicted about the object of your affections, he would have admired your loyalty. 

Your soft giggles drew his gaze back to you, where Lo’ak had since joined you, poking your side teasingly as an inside joke, no doubt, slipped past his lips. His envy reared its ugly head once more, and he found the heat in his belly returning at the cosy sight of the two of you. 

Great Mother, he needed to get away. 

* * *

Neteyam grunted softly as she moved rhythmically above him, fingernails digging into the skin of his chest. His hands trailed her lithe form, coming to land on her hips, guiding her movements. Closing his eyes, he relished in the pleasure he gleaned from the friction between their bodies. 

He had been seeing Nimira quietly for months now. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a quick release in the woods after evening patrol. But somehow, all these months later, he found himself pinned underneath the familiar weight of her as she rocked desperately against him, desperate for release. 

She was close, he could tell from her increasingly frenzied movements. He met her movements, frustration growing as his own peak eluded him. Something was wrong. In a swift movement, he had her on her back, hand cupping the back of her head gently. 

She gasped, startled at the sudden movement. “Neteyam, what—”

“Let me take care of it,” he murmured, thrusting more insistently against her. Her complaint faded into a series of breathy moans and sighs. 

Soon enough, he felt the familiar feeling of his own mounting ecstasy, breath hitching and movements growing more frantic as he reached his peak. He reached down, rubbing Nimira furiously where they were joined, willing himself not to spill before she reached her peak. 

In the aftermath of his pleasure, he turned over to glance at Nimira, who lay panting heavily on her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nim,” he said, slightly shamefaced. “If I was too rough.”

She laughed softly, turning her body to face him. “You don’t have to apologise,” she said slowly, reaching out to run her hand gently down his arm. “It was good. Really good.”

Relief flooded him and he smiled reassuringly at her. Nimira knew of Leyna. His feelings for you were not a secret but he wondered sometimes if she would be quite so nonchalant if she knew the depth of what he felt for you. He suspected that she would not take too kindly to the sensual fantasies of you that entered his mind, unbidden, during their dalliances. 

“You’re frustrated, today, Neteyam,” she said softly, breaking the comfortable post-coital silence that had fallen between them. 

Caught. He froze, mind searching frantically for an innocent explanation.

“Is it the mission tomorrow?”

Relief enveloped him at her words. That was right, Nimira was also a warrior and had been assigned to join the team investigating the suspected hostile activity at the edge of the Omatikaya territory. 

He nodded at her in the affirmative, hoping that had looked convincing enough. 

Nimira sighed in understanding, moving closer to him. “Me too.”

“Everything will be okay,” he murmured, returning her gesture, rubbing her arm gently as he spoke. 

“Aran is coming tomorrow,” she said softly, after a long pause. That was right. Aran. As fate would have it, Nimira had been nursing feelings of her own for the young warrior for many moons now, and they had bonded over their shared romantic woes. 

“I know,” he comforted, sensing her anxiety. Aran had been shot in the shoulder during their last mission. While they had been relieved to hear that the arrow had failed to pierce his vital organs, their relief had been short-lived as a worrying fever had come over him, unrelenting even in the face of the array of healing brews fed to him in the weeks that followed. 

“It’s too soon,” Nimira muttered, shifting closer to embrace the sturdy weight of his arm. “He’s not ready.”

“He’s a strong warrior. He wouldn’t have joined the mission if he didn’t think he could do it, Nim,” he countered gently. “He’s spent weeks now laying in the healer’s alcove, being tended to by my grandmother. She thinks he’s ready too.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I trust the tsahìk, it’s just, I—”

“Can’t help but worry?” He finished. “I know the feeling.”

Nimira smiled at his words. “Speaking of whom, how’s Leyna doing?”

A scowl came over his face, earning a soft chuckle from her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” she teased. “You’re here with me now, so I know the answer to that question.”

“Nim!”

“What?” 

“You know what.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said finally, patting his cheek gently. “That was unkind.”

He shook his head. “You’re not wrong. Everything is still shit.”

“You could just talk to her, you know?” Nimira nudged his side, prompting him to face her. “You can’t be pissed at her when she doesn’t even know how you feel.”

He smiled ruefully, leaning forward until the tips of their noses brushed against each other. “You always give the best advice, Nim.”

She smiled, pulling him atop her again. “I know. Now shut up and kiss me.” 

* * *

Neteyam let out a strangled hiss at the stinging sensation when Olin, one of the apprentices, applied a cleansing salve to the wound on his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” muttered an apologetic Olin, turning to reach for a bottle of pxir (beer). “Have some of this, it will ease the pain.”

“There really is no need for all this,” he groused, accepting the bottle. “It’s barely a graze!”

Olin tutted. “Brother, you know as well as I do that even the smallest break in the skin can result in infection. What if the arrowhead had been laced with txum (poison)?” 

The mission had been a success, save for a brief scuffle with the hostiles that had led to his injury. Neteyam longed to leave the healer’s alcove, where he had been barricaded in for the last hour, being fed various healing brews and antidotes for any dangerous contaminants on the hostiles’ weapons. 

But that was not the reason for his sour mood. Neteyam let his gaze turn sideways, landing on his brother who lay in the next bed, being tended to by none other than you. 

He watched with growing ire as your delicate hands rested on his abdomen, absentmindedly stroking the skin there as you waited for him to finish drinking the healing brew. That’s not even close to where he is injured, he hissed internally. 

“Bro, you alright?” Lo’ak looked concerned, eyes raking over his flushed face. Turning to you, he said, “Is it a delayed reaction or something?”

“I’m fine.” Neteyam said, waving off his brother. “Just tired.”

“Leyna, look him over would you?” Lo’ak chuckled softly. “He’s a stubborn one.”

“There’s no need—” His breath caught in his throat as your hands brushed against his forehead. Great Mother, he felt like a fool. 

Neteyam willed his body not to react as you poked and prodded at him. “Open your mouth.”

“W-what?” 

You gazed at him curiously. “So I can check for sores?”

“Ah.” Neteyam opened his mouth obediently, eyes widening as your fingers prodded the side of his cheek gently as you checked for any signs that he had been poisoned. He had had this dream before. Similar concept, slightly different execution.

“Is something wrong?” His voice came out garbled, your fingers having not ceased their intrusion. “Have I really been poisoned?”

You shook your head slowly, removing your fingers as you spoke. “I can’t see any sores and you have not sparked a fever yet.”

“I’m to live then?”

You smiled softly. “That’s right.”

The memory of your touch lingered in his mind in the hours after. His family paid little notice to his silence at last meal, accustomed to his typically taciturn demeanour. He willed himself to give into the mundanity of the next day’s tasks, to think of anything but the soft smile you gifted him before he left the healer’s alcove that evening, the feel of your delicate hands on his face, in his mouth, which only served to inspire more sensual fantasies of you on your knees before him, bobbing back and forth on his co—there he was, doing it again.

If he had hoped that sleep would subdue his racing mind, he was sorely mistaken. An hour of tossing and turning in his hammock had done little to alleviate his, ah, predicament. He was not unfamiliar with the intricacies of sexual attraction, having partaken in casual encounters of his own. However, none of his previous experiences had bred the kind of all-consuming fixation afflicting him in the present. 

Growling in frustration as sleep continued to evade him, he climbed carefully out of his hammock, padding quietly across the boughs of kelutral, descending down the spiral staircase at its centre. Landing on the forest floor with a soft thump, Neteyam scanned his surroundings, relieved to find it quiet, which was unsurprising given the late hour. He glanced down warily at his rapidly intensifying problem, deciding to move quickly through the village before he was faced with another clan member. How mortifying it would be to be found in the state he was in…the olo’eyktan’s firstborn son and second-in-command nursing a rather exuberant erection….

Seeking out a tree hollow outside the gates leading to kelutral, he sighed in relief. He had found this place many months prior after evening patrol, returning it regularly when he wished to be undisturbed. As second-in-command, he spent a considerable amount of time training with the war party and leading the hunting party. As such, most of his days were spent in stifling proximity to others. It was not that he disliked his role—he took great pride in following in his father’s footsteps—but he had admittedly always preferred solitude, having been more reserved than his siblings even as children.

Sheltered away from prying eyes now, he undid the ties of loincloth, swiftly discarding the material off to the side as he reached for the length between his legs, which had stiffened to the point of causing him pain on the walk over. 

Breathing heavily, he squeezed and stroked his cock rhythmically, eyes shut tight as the pleasure coursed through him in waves. Titillating fantasies of you doing things with him, to him, flooded his mind. 

You, on your hands and knees, mouth full of him, eyes meeting his coyly as you bobbed your head back and forth. The soft rounds of your breasts moving in time with your hips as you rocked above him, mouth open in pleasure…breathy moans….heavy breathing…eyes rolled back in bliss as his hips met yours….

“Argh, fuck,” he cried, bracing himself against the trunk of the tree, gasping for air as he reached his peak. Slightly shamefaced, he turned to retrieve his loincloth from where he had tossed it and refastened the ties. 

Great Mother, he needed to get a grip. 

* * *

You were avoiding him. He was quite certain of it now, watching as you hurried past him as he headed to the back of the alcove to wash his food mat after last meal. You did not meet his eyes but he glimpsed your stricken expression at his proximity. 

Frustration stewed in his gut at the present state of affairs. It had been almost a week since your conversation in his family’s alcove and you had only returned since with your family for their weekly shared meals. Hell, he was quite certain that you had been avoiding his brother as well. It was unbearable, more so than when you did not take notice of him at all. 

He had replayed that conversation in his mind a thousand times over in the days since, cringing at the indelicacy of his words and your panicked hiss at his confrontation. He had ruined everything before it even began. 

Sense would dictate that he give you space to come to terms with his words and leave you be. But, the pit in his stomach had grown unbearable and he longed to clear the air between the two of you. 

And that was how he found himself trudging through the thick vegetation that encircled the clearing where clan members called their ikran. He had recognised Txep’s excited squeal in the distance and knew, with certainty, that you were close. 

Emerging soundlessly from behind the bush, he called out, “Going out flying?”

He caught the surprise on your face as your head whipped around at the sound of his voice. “Yes, we are. What’s it to you?”

He smiled slightly at your words in spite of their hostility. Great Mother, if you knew the things that voice did to him. “Mind if I join?”

Before you could reply, Txep squealed upon catching sight of him, turning away from Pänu and barrelling into his arms. Txep was the sweetest little one he had ever seen, and Neteyam had always had a soft spot for the boy. Txep wanted to be a warrior and always trailed after him during his morning duties. His mother had apologised profusely for the boy who was particularly adept at evading his parents to find the warrior party during their morning trainings. Neteyam had waved off the apology, happy to indulge in keeping Txep entertained. In truth, he missed when Tuk was smaller and would do the same.

He saw the conflict swirling in your eyes at his question and knew he was playing dirty as turned to the boy in his arms before adding, “Txep, can I come flying with you and Leyna?”

You had a soft spot for Txep, and he knew that there was little you could refuse him. It was one of the things he loved (loved?) most about you.  

With a sigh, you nodded affirmatively. He silently cheered, disentangling himself from Txep to call his own ikran. 

Waiting patiently until Txep was seated on your ikran, he called you softly, willing himself to gather the nerve to say the right thing this time. 

Breathing heavily, he said finally, “I’m sorry, for the other day. I shouldn’t have said it.”

To his relief, your expression softened at his words. “It’s okay,” you began slowly. “You didn’t say anything I didn’t already know. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, it’s not stupid. He is.” 

That prompted a laugh out of you, thrilling him in the process. “I didn’t know you cared. I didn’t even realise you noticed my presence. This is the longest we’ve ever spoken, you know?” 

Naturally, Nim was right. “I pay you plenty of attention.” He countered cheekily. “Maybe you are the one who doesn’t notice.”

Not waiting for a response, Neteyam pulled down his ionar in a swift motion and leapt up on Tìxtur’s back, commanding him to take flight, trying and failing to stifle a laugh at your surprised exclamation. 

Turning away from you, he urged Tìxtur forward, deliberately urging him to fly faster. There was a place he wanted to show you; somewhere he had never shown anyone else. 

Neteyam only smiled softly at the shrill sound of Txep’s excited squeals as you urged your ikran to match his speed, pretending to not hear your questions as to where he was taking you. 

The landscape shifted beneath him, trees growing more sparse as they flew. Finally, he glimpsed the familiar sight of the valley in the distance, urging his ikran to slowly descend down onto the plain. 

He watched with anticipation as you landed by his side, initially too preoccupied with Txep and utterly oblivious to the marvel of your new surroundings.

Finally, you glanced up, gasping as you took in the sight of the valley, vast mountaintops on either side cradling the ground on which you stood. Neteyam watched you quietly, affection blooming in his chest at your awe. You were so beautiful. It was a thought that had come to him now a hundred different times in a hundred different ways. 

“It’s beautiful here, Neteyam,” you praised, meeting his gaze. He only smiled in return, overcome by a dizzy sort of elation. 

Txep was instantly transfixed by the river water, with its vivid shade of lilac, running to dip his feet in the water. 

Coming to stand behind you, he whispered, “He’s the sweetest little one I’ve ever seen.”

“You should see him when sa’nok prepares teylu, pounces like a palulukan, that one.”

Neteyam laughed softly. “I don’t doubt it. Tuk was much the same when she was younger.”

Wanting to speak more privately, he led you further along the riverbank, out of earshot of Txep. 

“How did you find this place?” You asked, after a brief silence. 

He shook his shoulders nonchalantly, explaining his evening exploits after the completion of the day’s duties. 

“So, this is where you disappear off to in the evenings, then?” 

Your words caught him by surprise. You had noticed. 

“I pay attention,” you added, trying and failing at nonchalance. 

He smiled. “So you do.” 

* * *

Neteyam watched quietly from the side as members of both clans drank and caroused in the centre of the shelter below kelutral, grooving to the tune of a rhythmic drumbeat in the background. 

Members of the Tipani clan’s leadership had come for a weeklong visit, culminating in the present celebration. Neteyam had spent the past week at his father’s side, tending to their visitors and partaking in negotiations concerning the exchange of goods between the clans and other diplomatic matters.

However, it was not his fatigue from the week’s duties that kept him from joining in the dancing and merriment. His piercing gaze found its way back to a particular dancing pair, eyes narrowing further as the Tipani clan’s second-in-command, Nareyo, reached for your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his dancing form.

His fingers twitched where they held the cup of kava that he had been nursing, the increasing strength of his grip threatening to shatter it and spill its contents across his lap. 

“At least give me that, if you’re not going to drink it,” a voice from his side said. 

Turning at the sound, his gaze shifted to land on Nimira who was watching him, eyes twinkling with amusement at his sour expression. 

“Don’t” he warned, tipping the cup back, swallowing the contents in one gulp. 

“You’re being a child,” she chided, nudging his side. “Ask her for a dance.”

“Wouldn't want to take her away from Nareyo,” he said, scowling. Nareyo was slightly shorter in stature, but a striking male nonetheless. Having spent much of the last week in his company, Neteyam would grudgingly admit that the man made for good company.

“Au! They’re only dancing, not mated. You can ask her for a dance.”

“Who says she wants to dance with me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and you’ve been spending so much time together.”

“That’s not true, we—”

“You hardly ever ask me to meet you anymore,” Nimira continued. “I’m much less satisfied nowadays. I should know.”

“I’m sorry, Nim, I—”

“Oh would you hush! That wasn’t the point!” She hissed, pressing her hand over his mouth to silence him. “I’ve seen the two of you. She looks at you that way.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She does.” Nimira, casting a furtive glance at you as the song came to an end. “Ask her now. Go, Neteyam.”

Nimira shoved his shoulder insistently, prodding him to stand before snatching the cup from his hands. “Go,” she mouthed, nodding at you. 

Neteyam sighed. “You’re full of shit,” he mouthed back, not letting himself indulge in the possibility that you returned his feelings. Still, he made his way across the floor, approaching you just as Nareyo thanked you for dancing with him with a kiss on the back of your hand. 

You smiled at the sight of him, hand slipping from Nareyo’s grasp as you turned abruptly from the other man to face him fully. Resisting the urge to preen at the action, he returned your smile. 

“Leyna,” he greeted warmly, pressing a kiss of his own to your hand. 

“Neteyam,” you breathed, eyes softening. “I didn’t see you earlier.”

“I, uh.” He hesitated, suddenly embarrassed by his earlier behaviour. “I was busy with something.” He paused to breathe deeply before holding out his hand in invitation. “A dance?”

You smiled brightly at him, slipping your palm into his grasp. “I’d love to.”

He pulled you closer as the music resumed, a slower, more relaxed melody this time. Gently swaying, he pulled you closer, unable to resist the prospect of being in such close proximity with you. Inhaling deeply, he appreciated the familiar sweetness of your scent. 

His heart raced as you leaned into his embrace, settling your head gently against his chest as you moved together to the music. Take that, Nareyo.

“You must be exhausted,” you said, voice muffled slightly where your face rested against the skin of his chest. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Duty calls,” he said, shrugging his shoulders only slightly so as to not jostle you. 

“Me too,” you sighed. “I’m grateful for their tsahìk’s teachings but she is a, ah, passionate woman. Like her son, actually.”

“Nareyo, huh.” He mused, feigning nonchalance.

You pulled back from him then, visibly grimacing at the mention of the Tipani clan’s successor. “He’s, uh, nice?” 

“He’s a strong warrior,” Neteyam offered. Why was he defending him?

“He is,” you allowed, before adding softly, “A little forward is all.”

“Forward?” 

“Would you call offering to make me his tsakarem forward?

His jaw clenched at your words. He had proposed marriage?  

“Naturally, I accepted,” you continued, laughing softly as he blanched. 

“Great Mother, woman,” he breathed, catching on to your teasing tone. “You scared me.”

You clicked your tongue. “Should I be hurt that you sound surprised? I was the last one in our class to complete iknimaya, you know?”

“Really?” 

You hummed. “I was scared I’d pick the wrong one.”

“That’s not possible,” Neteyam argued. “The Great Mother guides you to your match.”

“Point being,” you continued. “I take too long to decide things. Ergo, no whirlwind romances.”

Duly chastised, he nodded. “Point taken.”

“Don’t tell my mother, though,” you added after a long, contemplative pause. “She misses home dearly and she would have leapt at the chance to return to take care of her grandbabies.”

Neteyam laughed. “My lips are sealed.”

Sighing softly, you resumed your spot against his chest, leaning your full weight against his body, letting him guide you through the familiar steps. Neteyam relished in the feeling of your soft curves nestled safely against him, wondering belatedly if you could sense the rapid thrum of his heart.

“Shit.” You tugged at his hand then, pulling him abruptly away from the centre of the dancefloor. 

Startled, he spluttered, “Leyna, what are y—” 

“Nareyo’s coming this way again,” you hissed, hurrying through the crowd of onlookers. “He’s going to ask me again if I’ve ‘reconsidered coming home’. Ack!”

* * *

Panting heavily, Neteyam landed with a soft thump on the mossy ground. This morning’s training had been spent practising hand-to-hand combat, a programme that had been designed by his father, a relic of his tawtute origins. 

Though, if Neteyam was being honest, he was not feeling much gratitude for his father in that moment. After a gruelling morning of sparring with the other warriors, he was well and truly spent. 

Gentle hands touched his forehead, rubbing the skin comfortingly. Leyna. 

“Have some water,” you coaxed, bringing the paywll (water plant) leaf to his lips.

Eyes meeting yours in gratitude, he began to sip from the leaf as your hands rubbed his back soothingly. In truth, he much preferred archery and rarely partook in such trainings with so much vigour. But, you had come to watch the warriors that morning and he was only slightly ashamed to admit that the sight of you had prompted his, ah, performance. 

“Who was that for?” You teased.

Caught. “No, one,” he answered evasively. 

He watched as your gaze travelled over the crowd that had gathered to watch the morning’s tournament, landing on Nimira who smiled softly at him in greeting.

“Ah,” you acknowledged. “I see.”

Growing alarmed at the conclusion you seemed to have reached, he quickly interjected, “No, that’s not…Nimira and I are not—”

“It’s okay,” you allowed. “We all need a little respite.”

That got his attention. Unable to help himself, he questioned, “Who’s giving you respite?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Leyna.”

“Not saying!”

His brother’s voice interrupted the two of you. “Another round?” He called from the other side of the clearing. “You up for it, bro?”

Grimacing at the thought, he shook his head. “I’m done for the day.”

“Come on,” you cajoled, kneeling to whisper by his ear, “Mighty warrior.”

Eyes widening at the coquettishness of your tone, he turned sharply, meeting your gaze with a beseeching expression. 

“It’s okay, I suppose,” you allowed after a pause, a coy smile still playing on your lips. “It’s normal for males to lose some of their virility as they age.” 

Aghast, he cried, “I’m only a year older!”

It was working. You were in his head and you knew it. 

Grumbling, Neteyam clambered to his feet. “The things I do for you…” he muttered, reaching for your hand to steady himself. 

You giggled, stepping back from him to give the men space. “You love me,” you teased, smiling at him from where you stood with the other onlookers. 

“Not a chance,” he called back. Liar.

* * *

Thrumming with anticipation, Neteyam dismounted from his pa’li, turning to address the returning hunting party. It had been a successful hunt, having brought back enough yerik to feed the clan for the next few days, with the remainder of meat from the day’s meal being cured and stored away. 

“Thank you, brothers and sisters,” he called out, appraising the hunting party. “I thank you for your efforts, and I thank the Great Mother for providing.”

The crowd reciprocated his thanks, lifting prayers of their own to the Great Mother before dispersing at his dismissal. But it was not the euphoria of the successful hunt that had him fumbling with the saddle on his pa’li in his haste to leave. Rather, it was the prospect of an evening alone with you after weeks. 

Caught up in preparations for the Tipani clan’s visit and the general humdrum of clan life had kept you apart for much of the last few weeks. A few fleeting glances and quick exchanges of greetings in between their duties had left him wanting for your company. 

“Hot date?” his brother grinned impishly as he caught sight of his expression. 

Neteyam quickly schooled his expression into one of placid indifference. “No,” he answered plainly. “Just going out flying.” 

“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Lo’ak chortled, thumping him on the back. “Hope you have a good flight, then, bro.”

“What are your plans, then?” Neteyam asked, hoping to direct his brother elsewhere. Technically, he was not doing anything wrong by meeting with you—it was hardly an illicit liaison—but he could not shake the discomfort he felt when it came to sharing the details of his budding association with you with his brother.  

“Ah.” Lo’ak smiled amusedly. “I’m going flying myself, actually.”

Neteyam followed his brother’s gaze to where it rested on an attractive female who blushed, nodding bashfully in Lo’ak’s direction. Seren was a good hunter, but Neteyam did not know her personally, certainly not in the way his brother seemed to know her. 

“Fuck off with the flying shit,” he shot back, tone teasing. “Seren, huh.”

“It’s not like that,” Lo’ak clarified. “We’re seeing each other casually, if you catch my meaning.”

“Yes, bro, I know what you mean.” Neteyam rolled his eyes. “I’m aware of what sex is.”

Lo’ak only chortled. “Celibacy is making you irritable.”

“I’m not—what are you—”

“You haven’t been seeing Nimira, have you?”

“That’s not—stop talking shit.” Neteyam spluttered, caught off guard by his brother’s observation. 

“We live together, remember?”

“That’s not—” Neteyam paused. “I’m not irritable because of that.”

“Sure.”

“Perhaps, I’m irritated because a certain brother of mine refuses to stop asking me annoying, intrusive, personal questions.”

“Ha..ha, you got me.” Lo’ak chuckled. “I’m still right about your, ah, problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Leaving his still tittering brother, Neteyam turned to head for the ikran calling point near the rookery. He was loath to lose precious time he could be spending with you and worried that he had kept you waiting in entertaining his brother’s antics. 

To his surprise, the clearing was empty, no sign of you or Pänu. Scanning the surrounding vegetation, he waited, expecting you to emerge any time. As the minutes ticked by, he grew more antsy, not knowing you to be tardy. 

Contemplating his options, he decided to return to the village and check your family’s alcove. Skin prickling from nerves, he swiftly scaled kelutral, padding along its boughs to reach the entrance to your family’s home. 

“Leyna,” he called, noting the lack of activity in the space. Perplexed, he turned a corner, sighing in relief when he caught sight of you, faced away from him with a food preparation mat before you. 

You were so engrossed in your work that you did not seem to have heard his initial call. 

“Leyna,” he called, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. 

“Great Mother,” you screeched, jumping at his touch. “Neteyam, you scared me!”

Slightly amused, he questioned, “What happened? We’re supposed to go flying, remember?”

“Wiya, I’m so sorry,” you cried, eyes widening at the realisation. “I was just so busy—” You nodded at the mess on the food mat. “—I can’t believe I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” he allowed, eyes tracing over the food mat. “Are you making melon cake?”

“Yes, well, I—your brother saw Txep eating it the other day and asked for some so I thought I’d make some for him. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

So, that was why you were late. Neteyam felt a sliver of irritation at your words. He nodded slowly. “I see.”

“You’re upset with me.”

“No, I’m not.” Neteyam said, his voice terse. 

“You are.”

“I’m really not,” he rebuffed, stepping back from you in a motion to leave. “You’ll need to wait to give him the cake, though.” He paused, before adding, “He’s busy with Seren now.”

“What was that?” You asked sharply.

“What?”

“That bit,” you pressed. “About Seren.”

Neteyam shrugged. “I just thought you should know his whereabouts if you were planning on giving my brother his food.”

“No,” you said slowly. “That wasn’t why you said it. Y-you—this isn’t about that, is it? My feelings—you were trying to hurt me.”

Neteyam opened his mouth, denial on his lips when he caught the anguished expression on your face. Had he really said that? To hurt you?

“This—you’re unbelievable,” you muttered. “That was months ago. I’m not—it’s not like that anymore.” You paused, breathing deeply. “Why does that even matter? Why do you care?”

In the many months he had spent with you, as your bond had grown stronger, he had fantasised, a hundred different times, of how he would confess his feelings to you. Perhaps, in the woods, where you would retreat to converse for hours in the seclusion of the thicket. Or, in the valley, during one of your trips, with you by his side, laughing gaily as you felt the cold water tickling your toes. But not this. Never this. 

So, he deflected, regretting the words almost as soon as they left his mouth. “It-it’s just—it’s sad to watch.”

“It’s sad to watch?” You repeated dully, folding your arms across your chest. “Then, maybe you should leave.”

“That’s not what I meant—it’s just—I don’t want you to get hurt.” He babbled, attempting to mollify you. 

“Huh,” you said slowly, unable to keep the animosity from spilling into your voice. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Leyna, I was only trying to—”

“Just go.”

* * *

“No.”

“Alright, then,” he acknowledged, slightly stung by her curt declination. 

“I wasn’t done,” Nimira continued, grabbing his shoulders to make him face her. “Stop.” She reached for his bow, prying it from his hands and setting it on a nearby rock. “Just, tell me what happened.”

“Why do you think something happened?” He queried, not quite meeting her eyes. “Does something have to happen for me to want you?”

“Actually,” she said, eyeing him sceptically. “In your case, yes.”

“Nim, please,” he sighed. “Just let it go. You said no. I heard it. We have patrol now.”

“We also had patrol when you propositioned me, hmm?” She pushed him lightly, urging him to sit, while she knelt beside him. “Now, talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Bullshit,” she shot back. “You’ve been moody all week—”

“I’m not—”

“—by Eywa, I’m sick of it. The sullen face and the one-word answers to everything.” Nimira shook her head. “You haven’t gone running off to find Leyna after evening patrol which means she’s involved somehow. So, just tell me what you did.”

“Why do you assume it was me?”

“Simple,” Nimira said, chuckling softly. “You’re shit with girls—”

“That’s not—I’m a grown adult, I’ve had—”

“I’m not talking about sex.” She poked his side teasingly. “We both know that you do just fine there. I was talking about relationships.”

Knowing that she would not back down until he confessed, he sighed, “I fucked it up, Nim. Everything.”

“Fucked it up how?”

Pausing, he replayed the memory in his head first, wincing slightly as he recounted the details, deliberately avoiding looking at her face. 

Nimira sighed when he fell silent. “Oh, Neteyam.”

“I was trying to protect her,” he mumbled feebly. The longer you held onto feelings for his brother, the more it would hurt. He only wanted to spare you the agony. Right. Right?

“That’s not why you said it,” Nimira said softly. “You were jealous—you are jealous.” Sensing his objection, she raised her hand to silence him. “Don’t deny it.”

“Maybe I am,” he allowed. “But now she won’t speak to me. I haven’t even seen her.”

“Then, go look for her and tell her you’re sorry.”

“What if she doesn’t accept it?” Dread pooled in his belly, recalling the anguished expression on your face.

“You have to try.” Her lips quirked upwards impishly. “And besides, I don’t have an opening tonight. I’m busy.”

Still languishing over his impending conversation with you, it took him a moment before he caught on to her meaning. “Wait,” he started, eyes roving over her face as she waited for him to continue. “You’re busy tonight. And you’re—” He gestured to her growing smile. “Aran?”

A delighted laugh bubbled forth from her. “It just happened.”

“When?”

She shook her head amusedly. “Maybe if someone wasn’t too busy brooding, he would’ve noticed.”

“Nim.”

“Fine,” she laughed. “We stayed back after training the other day. We were just talking and it just happened. He kissed me.”

“Oh, Nim,” he said warmly, bumping his shoulder against hers. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she returned, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’d like to be happy for you too so apologise to her.”

Neteyam nodded solemnly, resolving to find you after last meal and rectify his mistake.

* * *

Neteyam padded quietly across the forest floor, smiling absentmindedly as it pulsed brightly with hues of green beneath his feet. It had taken some wheedling but he had finally managed to coax Ka’ni into revealing your whereabouts. You were praying at ultra ayomokriyä (tree of voices) and he was determined to catch you before you retired for the night. 

Pushing past the clusters of bioluminescent tendrils that grew from the tree, he wandered deeper into ultra ayomokriyä until he caught sight of your kneeling form, having already made tsaheylu with the tree. His heart clenched as his gaze landed on your face, eyes closed in prayer. It had only been a week and he had missed you greatly. 

Neteyam hesitated, caught between not wanting to interrupt your prayer but also growing uncomfortable, being made to feel like a voyeur. Steeling himself, he approached you slowly, kneeling next to you before gently tapping your shoulder to announce his presence. 

In spite of the gentleness of his action, you startled, jumping back and severing your neural connection with the tree. “Neteyam!” You yelped, chest heaving as you took in the sight of him. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, desperately hoping that you would not send him away. 

“It’s fine,” you managed, breaths slowing as your panic waned. “You surprised me, is all.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. For more than just startling you.

“It’s okay.” You moved to stand. “I should be leaving. It’s getting late.”

Neteyam shot up, reaching for your hand to stop you from moving away. “Wait.”

“Neteyam, what—”

“Please,” he implored. “Just give me a second, to explain.”

“Explain what?” You asked tiredly, still not pulling your hand out of his grasp. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was cruel and unfair.” He paused, watching your face for any reaction. “Please forgive me.”

“Neteyam, it’s just—” You sighed. “Is that all I am? The pathetic girl who trails after your brother?”

“Leyna, that’s not—”

“Let me finish,” you said. “That’s what you meant, isn’t it? Because, if you’re only here to babysit your brother’s lovesick little friend, then you can leave. Because that’s not what I am.” You laughed ruefully. “At least, not any more.”

“No, Leyna,” he pleaded, heart clenching at your words. “We’re friends. It’s not like that.” Friends, right. 

He could see your eyes softening and his foolish heart clung to the hope of reconciliation. By Eywa, he could not go another day without you, your beautiful smile and the pleasure of your company. He missed their evening flights together and the hours spent in the woods, content to engage in lively conversation as the sky darkened. Even if you only ever saw him as a friend, he would take what he could get….

After a long silence, you uttered the words he had longed to hear. “I forgive you, Neteyam.”

“Leyna, I—”

“And I don’t need your protection, okay?” You added carefully. “I’m a big girl and I’ve had feelings before.”

Wincing a little despite himself, he nodded. “Understood.”

Satisfied, you reached for his hand. “Come, let us pray.”

Relieved to have been forgiven, he smiled warmly at you, letting himself be led to where you had been seated before. Kneeling slowly, he reached for a cluster of bioluminescent tendrils, before bringing his neural queue towards it, watching as they joined eagerly. He sighed as the sensation settled, his eyes drifting shut. Tsaheylu.

An immediate calm fell over him, and he relaxed into it, feeling keenly the Great Mother’s presence around him. His mind drifted to thoughts of the Great Hunt, which was due to begin in a few days. He sought the Great Mother’s guidance and strength to allow him to lead the hunt successfully. 

Cracking an eye open briefly during his own prayers, he startled, not expecting to meet your gaze, eyes trained on him with a curious expression on your face. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, with a tight-lipped smile. “Just thinking about something my grandmother said the last time I visited her.”

“What did she say?” 

“Oh, that’s a secret,” you said airily, laughing at the indignance blooming on his face. 

“Come on, te—”

“How did your parents fall in love?” You interjected, catching him by surprise. 

“Everyone knows that story,” he said slowly, curious as to your sudden interest in the subject. It was true, though. His parent’s love story had cultivated quite an ardent, ah, fanbase. Particularly among the younger girls who could be overheard giggling over the tale. Star-crossed lovers from different species who end up together; admittedly, he could grasp the appeal of the premise. However, over the years, the details of their whirlwind romance had undergone a rather intense metamorphosis, the details changing and shifting as they passed from ear to ear. Neteyam had had to step in and personally clarify many of the details himself. No, his father had not descended from the sky in his human form, free of any breathing apparatus. Ridiculous.

“Tell me anyway,” you coaxed, nudging your shoulder against his.

“Uh, my father came here with the tawtute, with the RDA.” His sentence ended with a soft snarl; he had not said that word in a long time. “He was here to learn more about the clan to get access to the lìngtskxe (unobtanium) deposit under the old tree.”

You tutted. “Eywa, now I know why you do not join me at the children’s hut for storytelling in the evenings,” you teased. “Put some emotion into it.”

“Do you want to hear it, or not?” 

“Yes, yes, go on.”

“While trying to learn about the clan for the RDA, he fell in love with sa’nok, who was training him for his initiation rituals.” He continued. “Then, he turned his back on the RDA and joined the clans to drive them away.”

“And he tamed toruk!” You added.

“Yes, he did,” he concluded, finding your excitement endearing. He wanted to kiss you.

Remembering another detail then, he added with a laugh, “They didn’t even have a proper ceremony. My grandmother never got to officiate their wedding—she still complains about it. They ran off and mated. Right here, actually.” 

“It’s so romantic,” you sighed, gazing wistfully into the distance. 

“I don’t think romance was on their mind.” He paused. “Sexual frustration, maybe?” He added with a grimace, not wanting to think of his parents that way.

“Wiya, you’re hopeless,” you admonished. “They came from different worlds and fell in love, what were the odds of them even meeting, hmm? It’s romantic.”

“If you say so,” he allowed, a small smile playing on his lips. “How did your parents fall in love?

“Oh,” you said, chortling. “Sempul and sa’nok met here after the first battle with the tawtute. He says that he fell in love with her immediately but sa’nok wouldn’t give him the time of the day.”

In a conspiratorial whisper, you added, “Sa’nok had feelings for someone else.”

Oh. His eyes widened at the detail; he would need to speak to your father one of these days.

“How did he win her over?” He queried, wary of appearing too eager. 

“Ah, sempul likes to joke that he managed to wear her down eventually,” you supplied. “But, sa’nok says that she found his determination endearing and found him more charming the longer they spent together. But, she didn’t know if she should stay here and not return home because sempul was too nervous to tell her. She didn’t want to leave her home for the possibility that he cared for her.” You paused. “What made her choose to stay was him telling her how he felt for her.”

Ah, that. The pesky fact of a confession. He had not yet gathered the courage to share his feelings with you. 

“That’s nice,” he added quickly, realising that he had been silent for longer than appropriate.

You looked at him curiously, finding his demeanour strange. He squirmed, resolving to tell you how he felt. Soon.

* * *

After much back-and-forth, he had finally been released from the healer’s alcove after a few weeks, a thin bandage at his side the only evidence of his injury. Though he knew they meant well, he had grown tired of the healers’ fretting and resented being caged in the alcove. 

But, there was also an, ah, other reason for his impatience, that was, his desire for more privacy. As he left the healer’s alcove, his thoughts returned to you, as they did more often than not. The heady feeling of your lips against his had become his new fixation. In the weeks since his injury, you had been a daily visitor, sneaking into the alcove in the evenings, once the other healers had retired for the night. 

He was pleased to note how little coaxing from him it had taken for you to renege on your vow not to kiss him until he had fully recovered. Though you remained painfully cautious of his injury, with every night that passed, he grew more daring in his touches. To his delight, he had come to see all of you during their nightly rendezvous in the healer’s alcove, shielded only by a wispy curtain between the beds. 

Unfortunately for Olin, she had also come to see all of you, courtesy of an errant moan and untimely mishap with the curtain. She had fled the alcove with a startled yelp followed by copious laughter. You had been mortified, burying your face in his chest, insisting that you would not return until he was discharged; you came back the next night.

Now that he was no longer under observation, he was free to do whatever and well, whomever he liked without fear of intrusion. Padding quietly through the forest, he followed a familiar path to where he knew you would be. 

As the vegetation thinned, he glimpsed you, on all fours, picking seeds from the ground. Pxorna seeds, he supplemented with a small smile. With the cooler season nearing, pxorna would become harder to find, which was why you had insisted on gathering enough before then. For him.

“Yawntu (loved one),” he called softly as he neared you, heart pounding in his chest as you turned, beaming at the sight of him. Setting your pouch down, you rushed towards him, pausing only as you reached him so as to not jostle him.

Pulling you securely against the warmth of his body, he inhaled your sweet scent, feeling the lingering aches in his body disappear. Leaning into his embrace, you burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“Did everything go okay?” You murmured, voice muffled where you were pressed against his skin. “Was the tsahìk upset about letting you leave?

“My grandmother? She wasn’t happy about it but she agreed.” He laughed softly before adding, “Olin was quite supportive, though.”

You pulled back, eyes widening at the implication. “I would hit you so hard right now if you weren’t still recovering.”

“You love me,” he crooned.

“That, I do,” you allowed, raising yourself on your toes to press your lips against his. He returned the kiss with equal fervour, hands trailing down your back to grip your hips to pull you closer. 

“I need you,” he murmured against your lips. “Now.”

The seclusion of the thicket bolstered your confidence and you responded by pulling away to untie your chest covering, letting it fall with a coy smile. 

Neteyam groaned at the sight of your bare breasts, reaching to palm them when you slapped his hands away, nodding meaningfully at him. Recognising your meaning, he acquiesced, reaching for the ties of his loincloth, letting the material fall from his hips, landing carelessly on the forest floor. 

Turning you gently, he pulled your back against his chest, nestling his chin in the crook of your neck while he inhaled deeply. The scent of you was intoxicating and made him want you even more. Trailing his lips down the soft skin of your neck, relishing the litany of moans and sighs that slipped past your lips at his gentle ministrations. 

Placing a hand on your belly, he pulled you firmly against you, letting you feel how much he wanted you. His other hand rose to cup the soft skin of one breast, fingers brushing over your nipple which pebbled interestedly under his attentions. “Oh, Neteyam.”

Growing impatient, he bent down to scoop you in his arms and lay you against the mossy ground. “Neteyam,” you cried in alarm, hands reaching for his bandage-covered side. “Your wound—”

Pressing his lips firmly against yours, he assured, “I’m okay, yawntu. It’s okay.”

“But, you need to—”

He silenced you with another searing kiss, smiling as your complaints slowly morphed into sighs as he deepened the kiss. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” he returned, smiling impishly as he reached for the ties of your loincloth, undoing them swiftly before discarding the material off to the side. The pungent aroma of your arousal flooded his nostrils with its tantalising scent. 

Encouraged by your breathy moans, he reached down to trail his fingers gently between your thighs, smiling against the skin of your breast as you cried out at the action, grinding your hips against his hand. 

“Impatient, are we?” He teased, trailing his fingers deliberately around the sensitive bundle of nerves above your entrance, enjoying the way you writhed against him. 

“Neteyam.”

Watching your reactions carefully, he slowed his motions to dip his fingers lower, breaching you gently with one, then two fingers, the ache between his legs growing more insistent at the feeling of your tight warmth around his fingers. 

Setting a familiar rhythm, he pumped his fingers steadily in and out of you, eyes trained on your face. You were especially stunning in the throes of ecstasy and he leaned down to kiss you gently as his fingers continued their motion between your legs. 

Feeling a telltale clenching of your walls against his fingers, he urged you with sweet words whispered against the delicate tips of your ears. “You’re so beautiful…I love you so much…you’re perfect…come for me, my love….”

With a strangled cry, you came around his fingers, hands flying to grip the skin of his back as you rode out your high. Leaning down to nuzzle against the skin of your breast, he murmured, “You drive me wild, my love. I just want to be inside you.”

He felt you pull him upwards to kiss him again. “I’m ready,” you murmured softly in between kisses. 

Eager to be inside you, he pulled back, gripping his cock firmly, nudging it gently against your entrance, leaning forward to—

“Wait,” you cried suddenly, hands reaching to steady his hips. “You shouldn’t—your wound—”

“I’m okay,” he assured again, brushing his free hand gently against your cheek. 

“I know,” you muttered apologetically. “I just worry. Wait.” You pushed against his chest, prodding to him to lay on his back. “Let me,” you explained, his eyes widening in his realisation as you clambered on top of him, seating yourself deliberately against his straining cock. 

Not opposed to the change of position, he gladly acquiesced, bringing his hands up to grip your hips gently, guiding you into position, skin prickling from sheer pleasure as the head of his cock settled into place at your entrance. 

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?” You queried worriedly, casting a wary glance at your bandaged site, scooting imperceptibly further away from it. 

“I’m fine,” he repeated, shifting his hips against yours, endeared by your worry but also impatient to be inside you. 

Gasping at the movement, you nodded, sinking down the length of him slowly until he was fully inside you, sighing in unison at the miraculous sensation of being joined this way. 

“You feel so good, yawntu,” he sighed, eyes rolling back as the pleasure overwhelmed his senses.

Cracking open an eye as you starting rocking above him, he groaned at the titillating sight before him. 

…the soft rounds of your breasts moving in time with your hips as you rocked above him, mouth open in pleasure…

…beads of perspiration rolling down your bare chest as you moved against him…

…breathy moans….heavy breathing…eyes rolled back in bliss as his hips met yours….

The line between his fantasies of you and reality blurred as his pleasure intensified. Eager for you to reach your peak before he lost control, Neteyam ramped up the pace of his hips, grinning at your startled cry at the shift in pace, which quickly dissolved into louder moans as you relished the increased friction between your bodies. 

With a loud cry, you climaxed around him, the insistent clenching of your walls around him pushing him over the edge. Gasping at the sheer force of his pleasure, he clutched you closely against him as his peak washed over him.

With a quick press of your lips against his, you shifted slowly to lay by his side, still facing him, an impossibly bashful expression on your face. He found it endlessly fascinating how you could go from rocking above him frenziedly to a blushing, stammering mess. 

“I love you,” he said, reaching forward to trail a hand down the curve of your cheek. 

“I love you, too,” you returned warmly, shifting slowly to rest against him, nuzzling into the skin of his chest, a comfortable silence enveloping them.

Just as his eyes drifted close, as he gave into the haze of post-coital drowsiness, he felt your lips press against his neck. Shifting his head to face you, he raised an eyebrow at the coy smile playing on your lips. “Again?”

You nodded sheepishly, pulling back to gauge his reaction. “It’s just different—we’re alone, finally—and I just want—it’s okay if you don’t—” You stammered out an explanation.

“You know I could never refuse you, yawntu,” he assured, halting your nervous stream of words. Wrapping his arms around your lithe form, he gently lifted you, settling you against his hips.

Relieved, you leaned down to kiss him. “You’re so perfect. I love you inside me,” you whispered daringly against his lips. His eyes widened, hands reaching down to adjust himself against you until you were right where—

“Great Mother,” a voice screeched, followed by the sound of leaves rustling as their unwilling voyeur evidently began thrashing around in the surrounding shrubbery in their haste to turn away from the clearing they had been occupying.

“Olin?” He guessed, glimpsing a familiar face over your shoulder. 

“I was tired. I just wanted a walk and—I’m going now! Er, enjoy yourselves!”

Stifling his laughter, he called out an apology at her retreating figure, “I’m sorry. Again!”

“No need! Have fun—ack!”

Meanwhile, you groaned against his chest. “It happened again.”

Laughing, he patted your back comfortingly. “We’ll find somewhere else—no, I’ll build you something, okay? Where were we now?”

You lifted your head up from his chest to gaze down at him curiously. “You’re still good-to-go? After that?”

He shifted himself nonchalantly against you, the evidence of his readiness pressing firmly against the skin of your stomach.

Laughing incredulously, you shifted into position. “Well alright then, if you insist.”

[future-of-freedom]

When will I hear you’ve been stressed? Well, don’t worry. I have a solution for you.

*SQUEAKY HAMMER*

If someones pissing you off. Bop em w/ the squeaky hammer. If paperworks dragging you down. Bop something with the squeaky hammer. Unruly teammates not paying attention? Bop em with the squeaky hammer.

You can even use it as a little stamp so you can bop your paperwork to completion with these neat little swappable stamp heads

It’s fun, it’s simple, it’s relaxing, and best of all, it’s utterly harmless.

Have fun :)

Inside her room. Lanolin looked at the squeaky hammer, stunned.

“I-Incredible,” she marveled. “I can make dreams come true, just with this toy hammer…”

She stood up on her bed, holding the hammer as if she was Thor holding the Mjölnir.

“Rest well, world… for tomorrow, MY WRATH SHALL STRIKE-“

Ashley burst her door open, wearing pajamas and looking ready to kill.

“Boss. With all due respect, SHUT UP,” she scowled. “I’m doing this thing called ‘sleeping,’ maybe you haven’t heard of it!”

With that, the leopard shut the door, grumbling to herself.

“…she’ll be my first victim,” Lanolin muttered.

[swan-of-sunrise]

A Night on the Town

Summary: Steve and (Y/N)’s first date, as told through the eyes of an extremely nervous ninety-seven year old super-soldier and a lovestruck historical-fiction novelist.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! Today, we'll be getting a little look at Steve and Booksmart's first date after the Battle of Sokovia but before the last chapter of Age of Ultron, and I'll warn you now that there's so much freaking fluff in this one-shot! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

A Night on the Town May 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

Ever since taking the super-soldier serum in 1943, Steve Rogers had grown accustom to dangerous battles filled with death-defying stunts and adrenaline-inducing action. He almost never experienced pre-battle jitters and now that he was cementing himself in the twenty-first century alongside a team of other similarly super-powered people, he knew that there was no need to be nervous with his fellow Avengers fighting at his side, no matter if they were battling aliens from the opposite end of space or murderous androids controlled by artificial-intelligence. But as he parked his motorcycle on the street in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house, Steve’s heart pounded in his chest and after switching off the engine, he was forced to wipe his clammy hands off on his dark jeans.

“It’s just a date, Rogers…” He reassured himself, getting off the motorcycle and reaching into the back compartment to retrieve the bouquet of pink roses he’d carefully picked out for (Y/N). “A date with a woman who’s completely and utterly out of your league.” When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, he nudged the compartment closed and withdrew the device to see who was texting him on his day off, only to heave a sigh when he saw that it was Natasha.

Nat: Go get her, super-soldier 😉

Nat: You’d better give me all the tea tomorrow, or else I’ll decorate your shield with stickers.

Nat: Have fun!

“What the hell does ‘the tea’ mean…?” Steve murmured to himself as he shook his head at the spy’s eccentricities and tucked the phone back into his pocket. He took a moment to make sure that the roses hadn’t begun to wilt on the drive over and when he was satisfied with their appearance, he made his way up the driveway by the familiar yellow Volkswagen Bug and stepped onto the porch; nervously swallowing and wincing at how dry his throat had become, Steve ran a hand through his hair before pressing the doorbell and taking a step back, a smile making its way onto his face despite the anxiety fluttering away in his stomach.

Moments later, the door swung open to reveal (Y/N) and the breath was instantly knocked out of his lungs at the stunning sight. The historical-fiction novelist was dressed in an off-the-shoulder green blouse, short black jean skirt, sheer black tights and dark brown ankle boots, and her (Y/H/C) hair was fixed in the same intricate style she’d worn to the party at the Avengers Tower. Silver hoop earrings and a delicate book-shaped pendant accentuated the graceful slope of her neck, and her subtle touches of makeup brought out the sparkle in her (Y/E/C) eyes. While Steve stared in stunned disbelief, the hints of apprehension written across (Y/N)’s face melted away into a sweet, red-hued smile that he couldn’t help but return tenfold. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, (Y/N). You…You look so beautiful.” The historical-fiction novelist mumbled a bashful word of thanks and Steve held the bouquet out for her to take. “These are for you. I, um, I remember you saying in one of your emails that pink roses were your favorite.”

(Y/N) beamed as she accepted the bouquet of roses and took in their sweet-smelling scent. “They’re stunning, Steve, thank you! Let me just put these in some water-”

“I’ve got it, Booksmart.” A smirking Sam appeared at the doorway with his roommate’s purse in his hands, swapping her for the bouquet and giving Steve a look of exaggerated sternness. “Good to see you, Cap. So, you two’ve got a fun night planned; you’re gonna have her home at a respectful time, right?”

“Hi, Sam. I-”

“You don’t have to answer him, Steve, he’s just being a smart-ass.” After flashing Steve a smile, (Y/N) shot her best friend a glare and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday night than annoy us, Birdbrain?”

Sam dramatically sighed and shook his head. “Sadly, not all of us are lucky enough to snag a date with a super-soldier, but I might meet up with Nat later and go to that new bar that just opened downtown. You two have fun, but not too much fun!”

They stepped down off the porch and made their way down the driveway to Steve’s motorcycle, and (Y/N) waited until the front door closed behind Sam to heave an exasperated sigh. “He’s a real character, isn’t he?”

“He’s certainly one of a kind, that’s for sure.” They both chuckled as he reached into his bike’s back compartment and withdrew the spare helmet. “I haven’t been out to very many restaurants here in D.C., so I was hoping that you’d know of a good one we can eat at tonight. Whatever you’d like, I’m game.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up in excitement as she fastened the helmet’s strap under her chin. “In that case, there’s a great food truck downtown that serves, hands-down, the best Mexican food. How does that sound?”

Steve straddled the motorcycle and waited for the historical-fiction novelist to lower herself onto the seat behind him before switching the engine on. “I’ve never had Mexican food, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

“Trust me, you’re going to love it!” She exclaimed over the engine’s rumbling, and Steve smiled a little to himself when he felt her arms wrap around his waist. “1560 Wilson Boulevard, you can’t miss it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve shot her a teasing grin over his shoulder and reveled in the feeling of her arms tightening around him as he peeled away from the curb and sped down the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seated side-by-side on a brick planter box a little ways away from Pa’ Tortas El Papi’s bustling food truck, (Y/N) and Steve enjoyed their plates of street tacos and ice-cold Coca-Cola’s and fell into easy conversation as Tejano music played in the foreground and string lights twinkled in the tree branches above. (Y/N) was pleased and a little relieved when Steve told her how delicious their dinner was, knowing how different Mexican food was to the super-soldier’s usual cuisine, and there was a proud grin on her face as she watched him eagerly finish his second plate of tacos and regaled him with stories of her many trips to the food truck with Sam. With Steve, (Y/N) felt completely at ease and all of her worries – about the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, about the legalities surrounding her breached studio contract, about Ultron’s defeat – were put out of her mind by the super-soldier’s comforting and near-addictive presence.

“I like this song,” Steve stated after they’d lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of them enjoying the last of their sodas while they people-watched from their secluded planter box. “It has a nice melody.”

“‘Amor Prohibido,’ released as a single in 1994 from the album of the same name and sung by the incomparable Selena Quintanilla…or just Selena, if you prefer, sort of like Beyoncé or Cher. It’s about forbidden love and wanting to be with someone despite everyone else’s misgivings about their relationship.” When (Y/N) glanced up from her empty glass bottle and caught sight of the awestruck expression on the super-soldier’s face, she felt her own face begin to warm in embarrassment and she awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. “Anyway, it’s a very good song…one of my favorites of hers, actually.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head in amazement. “Sometimes I forget just how knowledgeable you are when it comes to music, and then you go and knock me onto my ass with a pitch-perfect summation of a random song’s background and details. It sounds cliché, but I don’t know any other word to call it other than incredible, (Y/N).” His azure eyes were shining as he spoke, and (Y/N) knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he meant every word he uttered; her lips curved into a smile before she wordlessly pressed a kiss onto the smooth skin of his cheek and scooted closer to lean her head on his shoulder, smiling even more when she felt his large hand gently wrap itself around hers. “My Spanish is a little rusty, but I’ll bet that there’s a music expert around here that could translate some of it for me.”

“‘Aquí solo importa nuestro amor, te quiero…’” (Y/N) quietly sang along to the impassioned tune and gave Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze as she translated. “‘All that matters here is our love, I love you…’”

Although they’d finally confessed their love for one another just two weeks prior, saying those three simple words aloud again sent a warm tingle throughout (Y/N)’s body, and she was reminded of the super-soldier’s breathtaking grin and the feel of his soft lips caressing hers as they stood in the deserted hangar of the old S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier.

Instead of replying, Steve simply closed his eyes and hummed along to the melody of the song as a light blush dusted over his cheeks, and (Y/N) seized the rare opportunity to study her distracted date; his handsome face was fully free of the guarded expression he’d continuously worn when they first met, making him appear younger and resemble the ninety-five pound man he’d always been before his recruitment into Project Rebirth, and her heart warmed in her chest when she realized her role in helping him open up and slowly but surely join a world that he once believed that he would never belong in. Not many people are lucky enough to see the man behind the shield, (Y/N) thought as she rested her head back on Steve’s shoulder and smiled to herself, but right now I feel like I’m the luckiest person alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc, uh, are you tellin’ me you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”

“The way I see it, if you’re gonna built a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?”

The auditorium echoed with chuckles of amusement at Doc Brown’s reply and while the time traveling car suddenly blazed its way back onto the screen, Steve bit his lip to hide his disbelief from (Y/N), who was engrossed in the ongoing film right beside him. When he picked a 30th Anniversary screening of Back to the Future for his and (Y/N)’s first date, it hadn’t occurred to him that it was a film revolving around time travel, and the irony of being a man out of time taking his incredibly modern girlfriend to see it was definitely not lost on him. It was a fun film that took a more science-fiction route in regard to the time travel aspect – and as someone who’d gone from 1945 to 2012 in the blink of an eye, it was a nice change of pace seeing someone go from present day to being a fish out of water in the past – but Steve started to feel slightly uncomfortable when the high school-aged George McFly was introduced.

Unsurprisingly, Steve was the furthest thing from popular in high school; he was short, skinny and interested in art and the few girls who’d acknowledge his presence were only interested in fishing for a date with Bucky. The only real difference between him and George McFly was that, despite his abysmal success rate, he always fought back against his bullies instead of cowering from confrontation like George. However, it was George’s infatuation with Lorraine that struck Steve; like him, the high-schooler was hopeless with girls and had a difficult time expressing himself around his crush, something that Steve still struggled with over eighty years later. It had taken nothing short of a world-ending threat for Steve to finally confess his love to (Y/N) and when the adrenaline of the Battle of Sokovia finally wore off, so too did his forwardness.

Bucky always made this sort of thing look so damn easy, Steve silently bemoaned and swallowed thickly, his eyes trained on the screen as he contemplated whether or not he should wrap his arm around the historical-fiction novelist’s shoulders. He reached into their shared bucket of popcorn and sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers suddenly brushed against (Y/N)’s; when he looked over at her, she was smiling at him and he felt himself smile back as she tossed a kernel of popcorn into her mouth that was accompanied by a flirtatious wink and returned her attention back to the screen.

It wasn’t until George and Lorraine’s much-anticipated dance in the school’s decorated gymnasium that Steve found the opportune moment to make his move. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he moved his arm up and slowly lowered it to rest around (Y/N)’s shoulders; he was careful to avoid the bare skin of her shoulder and curl his fingers around the silky material covering her upper arm, but the respectful gesture didn’t stop him from feeling the warmth radiating off of her or detecting the subtle uptick of her heartbeat at his careful touch. Steve’s own breath hitched when the historical-fiction novelist not only scooted closer to his side, but also rested her head on his shoulder; he didn’t bother fighting the smile that stretched across his face as his body relaxed and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, feeling nothing but love for the woman sitting beside him while they both watched George and Lorraine finally share a sweet kiss.

“Earth Angel, Earth Angel, please be mine. My darling dear, love you for all time. I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you…��

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon was shining high in the darkened sky when Steve finally took (Y/N) back home. After the movie, they’d spontaneously decided to visit a nearby ice cream parlor and enjoy their frozen treats while strolling around the block arm-in-arm, and it wasn’t until they noticed several bars beginning to close for the night that they realized just how late it was; they were having too much fun eating their ice cream and laughing at (Y/N)’s many attempts to teach Steve how Instagram filters worked, but they were mainly just enjoying spending time in one another’s presence. The rumbling of the super-soldier’s motorcycle ceased when he parked in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house and switched off the engine, and silence settled over the street as he gallantly walked alongside her to the porch.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Standing on the porch, (Y/N) gave Steve – who was nearly eye-to-eye with her from where he stood at the base of the steps – a teasing grin. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Captain Rogers.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Yeah, well, you’d be the first lady to ever think that; most of Bucky and mine’s double dates usually ended with my date forgetting that I existed and both gals trying to make a move on Buck.”

“I suppose it’s their loss and my gain, then.” While Steve’s cheeks turned pink at her compliment, (Y/N) shrugged off the leather jacket he’d insisted on letting her wear when she started to shiver during their stroll, cringing at the cool night air on her flushed skin but handing the jacket over to him; she took a moment to admire the super-soldier’s muscular physique while he slid his jacket back on and was forced to clear her throat before continuing. “Well, I…I should probably head in; Sam’s probably spying on us as we speak and waiting to interrogate me.”

“I’m sure he’d be at the window if he hadn’t fallen asleep while watching reruns of NCIS.” A teasing smile of his own curved his lips upwards when (Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “Good hearing’s just one of the many side effects of being a super-soldier.”

Sometimes, it was easy for (Y/N) to forget that the man standing before her was Captain America, a bonafide superhero who could lift a ton without breaking a sweat and who miraculously survived being frozen in ice for nearly seventy years. To her, he was just Steve Rogers, a handsome man who strived to learn as much as he could, who had a dry but witty sense of humor and who made her feel well and truly loved. “I meant what I said earlier,” (Y/N) quietly admitted and reached out to hold one of Steve’s hands. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in…well, a pretty long time.”

Steve’s azure eyes softened as he nodded in agreement. “Me too. I wish it didn’t have to end.” When she arched a brow at that, his eyes widened in panic and he stammered out, “T-That’s, um, that’s not what I meant, I wasn’t trying to…not that I don’t want to, you know, but…I swear, I’m not implying that you and I should…” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck and let out an embarrassed groan. “Ninety-seven, and I still can’t talk to a beautiful woman without gettin’ tongue-tied.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s true…” Smiling, she brought her free hand up card her fingers through his hair before gently cupping his smooth jaw. “But it’s also one of the many things I love about you.”

Steve gave her a breathtaking grin and leaned forward, his impossibly-long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his soft lips met hers; the gentle and passionate way that Steve kissed her made her feel cherished and while his hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist, she couldn’t help but marvel at how the highly-trained super-soldier’s touch was nothing short of reverential when it came to her. His kisses were addictive and as they finally separated for air, she found herself moving forward to press one last lingering kiss onto his swollen lips before pulling away far enough to meet his hooded gaze. “That was…”

“Scandalous? Inappropriate?” (Y/N) jokingly offered. “Something that would’ve ruined both our reputations in the 1940’s?”

“Incredible.” Steve finished, and the tender gleam that filled his azure eyes as he looked at her caused her own cheeks to flush. “You’re incredible, sunshine.”

That was the first time he’d ever called her something other than her given name, and the added emphasis on the term of affection certainly wasn’t lost on her. In the back of her mind, she resolved to ask him about it one day but in that moment, she all but glowed and bit her lip in a poor attempt to hide her bashful grin. “I know how busy you are with the move to the Avengers’ new facility and the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, so I’m not sure when we’ll be able to go out again but I hope it’s soon.” After Steve nodded in agreement, (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek and with a small pang of reluctance, she pulled away from his arms and finally let go of his hand. “G’night, Steve.”

“’Night, (Y/N).”

They shared one final smile before turning away from one another, (Y/N) to unlock the front door and step inside and Steve to walk down to where he’d parked his motorcycle. She gave him a wave once she saw him sitting astride the bike and stepped into the house, but the brief chime of her cell phone forced her to quickly lock up before checking her unread text messages.

Steve: I don’t think that there’s an adequate enough way to thank you for such a wonderful night, sunshine, but I was hoping I could take you out again tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner and another movie?

While her heart practically burst out of her chest with happiness, (Y/N) typed out a brief but enthusiastic reply and tiptoed into the living room to wake her sleeping roommate, but not before giving the vase of pink roses sitting on the kitchen counter an appraising smile and taking note of the fading rumble of a familiar motorcycle outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: And there we have it! What did you think of their first date?? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book II: “Age of Ultron” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[toastyrobos]

Tasteful evening surprise (Crosshair x female reader one shot)

Word count: 2357

((Your a Senator. After a stressful day you go back to your apartment to find Crosshair waiting for you. A surprise, but a welcomed one. He and you enjoy a nice dinner and some much needed alone time. Hadn't seen each other in several rotations))

You were more then ready to rip this dress off your body. Toss it across the room and slip into something more comfortable, less form fitting. Getting dressed up was not the issue. It was the long draining hours you had to spend tied up in it that was the problem. Unfortunately that came with the territory of being a Senator for the Republic.

Most days were fine. Taken up with several meetings and involved delegations, but it was your job and you didn't mind. In fact this is what propelled you forward. Being able to do good for the millions of citizens scattered across the galaxy filled you with pride.

And you were not just one of those talk the talk ones. No. You fought and fought with your voice for the people. Especially for the ones so many in the senate tended to overlook. Every voiced mattered. Exhausted was how you found yourself at the end of the day. On more then one occasion.

Today, however you were nearly spent. Dragging yourself in the direction of your apartment. A rather heated negotiation had ended in shambles and you were just ready to concede.

Before you had even reached the door your heels were pried from your feet, resting at the side of the dress. Exhaustion rolling over you as the code was entered in. The very second the door slid open, heels were thrown aside and you nearly collapsed against the wall from how much your head was throbbing.

How the hell had one meager negotiation turn into such a disaster? Never had you experienced such a tense situation before. Raised voices was one thing, however such aggressive threatening language was not. At least not to you. Different ideologies were as common as a rainstorm, that was a given. But the way these individuals handled discussions...maker.

No. You shook your head. Now was not the time to give them another thought. Unfortunately though another round would be happening tomorrow. Tonight was about you and the cozy couch that was calling your name. Responsibilities of the day, done. Matters taken care of. All that's left to do was settle in for the evening and relax.

"Long day, doll?" You quickly jumped back, almost stumbling and falling over the train of your dress.

That voice.

Sharp brown eyes stared directly at you, taking in your formal appearance. And he liked what he saw. Always did. Especially all those Senator gowns. They only heightened how beautiful you were to the sharpshooter. After all he had a keen eye for true beauty.

"Crosshair.." you were stunned to see him here. "What are you doing here?". Sure you were that he was supposed to still be on a mission.

The corner of his lip lifted. "Not happy to see me?"

You were quick to shake your head. The opposite actually.

"That's utterly ridiculous". You scoffed. "I'm always thrilled to see you. I-I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you were still on Raxus for several more rotations".

He merely shrugged. Not phased at all by your question. "We finished the mission early". You couldn't help the excitement that twisted in your stomach. It had been so long since you had last seen him.

His lengthy arms draped over the back of the couch, left leg crossed over his right knee. He didn't even have to try to be handsome. He just was. And bless the stars that you were able to call him yours.

Roaming his face, like your always did your eyes focused on the new scar under his eye. It was deeper then you would have liked. But there was nothing you could do about it. He was a solider after all. Bruises, cuts and gashes came with his line of work.

"I hope everything went well". You replied moving in closer to his spread out position.

"Mostly". He answered, reaching in his pocket for a toothpick.

"What happened—no, actually let me guess, Wrecker?"

He nodded, lifting himself off of the couch and came to rest his chest against your back. He slid his arms around your waist and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in the floral smells of lavender and rose that he had came to love very much.

"Tech and Hunter were furious". He added, his lips just hovering over your exposed neck. Your insides curled, lips parted slightly.

"I can only imagine. Tech more then likely gave him the usual stern talking to". Crosshair nodded.

"Enough about the mission". He replied changing the subject. "I missed you". You spun yourself around to take in his features close up.

Then a smile broke out on your face. "I missed you too. I had expected to spend the evening alone, but it appears I won't be anymore".

The smirk he gave, that made your toes curl, finally made an appearance and you could feel your heart skip a beat.

"Lucky you".

The distance between you two was becoming increasingly smaller. You could practically feel the heated desires permeating the air as well as your quickened heartbeat.

His eyes dropped to your lips. The longing to kiss you hung in the air. Waiting to see who would close the distance between you two first. You would have certainly done it, but you were never brave enough to make the first move.

Crosshair was the one who made the first move when it came to your relationship. Particularly one day he just had had enough. He couldn't hold himself back any longer so the minute he found you, he pulled you into a small hidden corner, backed you into a wall and kissed you like he was dying of thirst and you were the only drink for miles around.

He seemed to kiss you like that every time he had an opportunity to, or just had the urge to. Now was no different. He took you in his arms and collapsed his lips down on yours. You hooked your arms around the back of neck as he gripped your hips forcefully. It was a whirlwind, kissing the sharpshooter. Every single time he left you in a daze. By the force did he electrify you.

Guess it was fitting. His name. For each time he hit his mark. Making you feel so many different emotions all at once. He really was great at his job.

"You were not kidding". You gasped, pulling away breathless.

Crosshair licked his lips. "What can I say, mesh'la. Your hard to stay away from". He confessed. "Now why don't you let me take care of you tonight".

"Sounds lovely to me". You hummed as his fingers slid up and down your arms. Keeping a rhythm that sent shivers up them. Then he began to pepper light kisses across your skin. Starting at the end of your shoulder, trailing up to your cheek. The familiar sensation warming your body. "It's been a tiring day".

The sharpshooter paused in his affections, picking up on your tone. He was aware of how difficult it was being a Senator. You rarely complained about it or went into too much detail, but he had learned a thing or two from Hunter. Being able to pick up on your exhaustion, your frustrations had become second nature to him.

Right now was no expectation. Small bags under your ears, missing heels, and sleepy tone. It had been one of those days. Though he had no idea what had happened, it mattered not. Anyone that took a shot at you or made an unfortunate comment towards you would answer to him.

Crosshair usually didn't get into fights. When he did however, it was usually in your honor. And mostly it was fighting a reg who had said something unwarranted. He became a different person when it came to you. But he loved the way you made him feel. You were the light in his war stained existence.

"Then let me take care of everything". He whispered.

"Are you staying the night?" You questioned. If he was you absolutely knew where the two of you would end up.

"I couldn't think of anything better". He answered, eye's darkening for where the evening could lead to, and unmistakably would.

Biting your bottom lip you simply nodded. Then wrapped your arms back around his neck, your bodies swaying slowly on the edge of your penthouse apartment balcony. Multi colored lights of Coruascant illuminating the environment and bathing everything in bright rainbows of color. A sight you never got tired of. Maybe never would. It was a light show of color. Golds and blues being the most dominant of all.

The way the electric blues glowed in Crosshair's irises. His eyes lighting up a color all their own.

"Then what do you have planned for this evening?" You inquired, curious to what events were awaiting for you. Hopefully none of it involved going out. However judging by Crosshair's relaxed demeanor that wouldn't be that case.

"A nice dinner prepared by yours truly followed up by just sitting here. Enjoying one another's company—"

"Hold up!" You placed your hands on his armored chest, interjecting. "Since when can you cook?"

He furrowed his brows. "I've been practicing—"

"Since when?" You questioned.

He smiled. "Tech's been showing me how". You didn't know what shocked you more. The fact that Tech knew how to cook or that Crosshair was allowing Tech to teach him...though the former seemed more plausible.

"Why has he been teaching you to cook of all things?"

Exhaling, the sharpshooter turned your hands over in his palms. Feeling the soft delicate untainted skin against his rough scarred ones.

"I wanted to. For you". The truth of his words hit you like blaster fire. And threw you for a loop.

"For me?"

He nodded. "I know we don't get to see each other often, so I wanted to do something special for you". You couldn't fathom this. "Besides I know how much you enjoy a good meal".

"A good meal". You smirked, teasing him.

"I'd be careful what you say, doll". Crosshair warned playfully, amusement rolling off his features, pushing his body forward, forcing your back into the railing, overlooking the sparkling city.

"Or you'll what?" You took the bait.

He lined his lips up with your ear and then whispered in it. "Or will skip right to dessert".

"Tempting, but I want to taste this nice dinner cooked by you".

As much as you were willing to indulge in his suggestion, you now had other plans. Other things could wait. You wanted to taste what he had made. Your curiosity was peaked.

"Then shall we?" Crosshair offered up his arm for you to take. And so you did. Linking your arm with his, you followed him down the steps of the balcony and into the kitchen area.

You watched from your seat as he started to gather up some ingredients from the fridge. Seemingly knowing his way around the floor plan already. Not that it phased you. He knew his way around your place for almost a year now.

Something about how comfortable he was here made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the implications that it raised. Or that you could picture a future with him. In this very place. In this very room.

You were still wrapping your head around the fact that he had taken this step. You knew Crosshair was series about your relationship, but taking up cooking? That seemed so far out of his element.

That reason alone, butterflies poured into your stomach. Your heart nearly melted. He was willingly to do this for you. Willing to learn something that was out of his area of expertise and that made you happy. Warming your body inside and out.

"You really did this for me?" You just needed to be certain.

Crosshair paused his work across from you and lifted his gaze to meet yours. "Mesh'la I love you. I'd do anything for you".

Hearing those three simple, yet powerful words each time made your heart swell. "I know. It's just—"

He reached across the surface to grip your hand. "Your worth it. Always". And you believed him. You always did.

Finally accepting what he was saying you couldn't contain how giddy you felt. You swore you were acting more like a child then a full grown Senator.

"What would your brothers think if they saw how romantic you were being right now?" You grinned from ear to ear. Immediately his features changed. But hints of love still lingered.

"They won't find out because your not going to tell. Ever". His tone was firm and with it you were one hundred percent positive he meant ever word of it. Rarely did he ever not mean it.

"Of course". The smile still present as ever on your face. "Besides I rather have this side of you all to myself".

He grinned, victorious. "Glad to hear it. Because it's only ever been for you".

When his masterpiece was finally finished, he served the two of you in the comfort of the living room, the glittering view of the city as your backdrop. And maker Crosshair's first mea he cooked for you was excellent. It was savory, yet sweet. It was cooked to perfection and you wondered if that had to do with Tech's precise programming to make sure everything was done just so. Either way you ate every single morsel on the plate. That was more then enough confirmation to him that he'd get the chance to cook for the two of you again. Both of you eager for when that time would be.

In the morning he would be leaving again. Another planet in need of the Republic's help. It was unfortunate, but it was his duty, being a soldier. As being a Senator was yours. The time you two spent together was usually short and there were long stretches of time when you didn't see one another. Thus the moments the two of you had together were precious and you truly treasured dearly.

[eunhagal]

My holiday ends tomorrow and I feel like there's so much more of this that could be written, so I'm going to try just posting what I have so far. Not normally what I do, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If anybody's really into this, let me know so I don't just keep the rest in my head for my personal enjoyment like I usually do. I have a couple more paragraphs of this, but this felt like the most appropriate break point

Eunha knelt behind the girl, all thoughts but one fading from her swimming mind: An ass this pretty deserves all the pleasure I can give it.

Never mind that they had only just met. Never mind that Eunha couldn’t remember her name. Never mind that this was happening in a public park. Those were unimportant details with no bearing on Eunha’s mission.

The girl hugged the tree that she bent over in front of. Her finger pads gripped at rough bark in stark contrast to the fine, soft hands floating up and down the backs of her thighs. Goosebumps lined her skin, head to toe. Nobody had ever done this to her before. Other partners put her on her back and fucked her pussy, often without foreplay. But now Eunha, an idol (her favorite idol), was insisting on giving her a new, novel experience. She'd been seduced by Eunha for years already. It only took a few words to get her to hike up her skirt.

Eunha tried to make a whole song and dance of removing the girl's underwear, pulling them halfway down her butt, and commenting on how her pussy was so wet that it clung to the fabric. The girl, too desperate to realize it was a compliment, took it to mean Eunha was having a hard time, and reached down herself to jerk the underwear down to her knees. The quick movement stunned Eunha for a moment, but the unobstructed view of the girl's asshole quickly got her back in the right mindset.

A firm but gentle massage spread the girl's butt. Eunha loved watching the tiny ring in the center widen and lengthen as she manipulated the surrounding pliant muscle. The girl's whole ass was a joy, and Eunha would have been satisfied with playing with it for a little while, but she wanted the girl to feel the same pleasure she knew. And to that end, she kissed.

The motion was so soft, so tender. Eunha's glossy lips touched the girl's ring, pressed lightly, and she kissed. It may have been the gentlest touch the girl had ever felt, but it still sent cracks of electricity through her. She raked the poor tree with her nails. She couldn't contain her voice. A breathy moan crawled out of her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd made such a lewd noise, even in the comforting solitude of her own bed. The wherewithal barely struck her to cover her mouth. Eunha didn’t mind the dangerous sound, and continued kissing. It was the sort of kissing that would be utterly chaste anywhere else on the body. Something one could expect from a relative on the cheek, or a shy high school girlfriend on the lips, albeit repeated and insistent. No sloppy spit or tongue, just the barest intakes of air through nearly unparted lips. The girl wished that she'd been flexible enough to turn around and watch. Surely, Eunha doing this would be the most beautiful sight.

Eunha backed away. The girl's asshole was surrounded by a perfect, if moderately smudged, kiss mark. Eunha's lip gloss left it glistening and pink. Below, the girl’s pussy drooled to the point of drops falling away. Seeing that confirmation of pleasure, Eunha’s mind threatened to shut down. She wanted to give the girl more. She wanted the girl to know everything she knew herself about tongues and fingers and so many other things that brought her bliss. She wanted to share that bliss, get completely lost in it with this girl she didn’t even know until they both melted away.

Though she retained some amount of control, Eunha really couldn’t help herself.