#which i know i whine but i understand. i truly understand. i know that feelings are what they are

[todayisafridaynight]

I genuinely can never thank you enough for the past year. I can't express how much it's meant to me to be understood and have my energy reciprocated with someone on the same wavelength. Although I've been in the fandom for quite a bit longer than most people writing in, and longer than you, even, I can't remember the last time I felt this welcome and motivated. A TRULY embarrassing amount of my work's just been fueled by "oh Snap's gonna wanna see that," and of course that circle's expanded since then, but it probably wouldn't have had I not met stream chat through you, aaaaaand if I'm honest you're still up there... lol...

It's always, always a highlight of my day to see your your work, your posts, and your responses, whether they're to me or to others, and it's always a highlight of my week to be able to make it to streams! You're a huge inspiration for me, particularly in terms of your work ethic across the board. I always come out of streams energized and feeling like I can actually finish things, and usually this is hubris, but it's gotta count for something.

Not to be dramatic, but you kinda changed my life, no exaggeration. I still really can't see myself the way I was two or three years ago not just calling it quits after some of my Gaiden experiences... lol... but I'm still around, and like always, I wanna be able to write in and interact as much as I used to sometime soon. Thanks for everything! I hope RGGS continues to deliver so we can stay in touch :3

i cant thank YOOOOU enough for the past Xsome months or so. feelins ABSOLUTELY mutual in that i wasnt sure anyone else would really be into talkin bout rgg as you and i have (or would be willing to read my. miles-long scrolls of bullshit LMAO) so it's been real fun gettin to know you an everyone and chattin !!

most bafflin thin to ever to think i have good work ethic, i feel like ive been behind everyone for the past couple weeks and even with the things i do make it's really not up to snuff. it's always nice to hear that's not supposedly exactly the case :) I Suppose :^)

rgg community (like any community lbr) can be. An Experience, esp for someone with a position like yours. so im glad i can make it worth to hang around somewhat LOL

regardless, i always look forward to you next ask or the next time you leave tags on a post i make. if i ever bother making a post again ���️☠️

[bishonenspit]

international eroica fans are some of the most ungrateful fans of anything i have ever encountered i stg

[bunnihearted]

cant sleep bc i wanna die, but dont wanna get out of bed bc i dont wanna be alive

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[wrioluvr]

『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader

note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1

cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence

nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...

and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.

but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.

your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?

taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."

"wha- but- but why? you promised!"

"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."

at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.

reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.

taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"

"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.

you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"

"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.

"at least let me prepare you first...?"

"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."

"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.

"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...

"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.

eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!

with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.

even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡

[fluffylino]

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

.

.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

.

.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

.

.

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

.

.

.

[samara444]

THE 3D DOES NOT FUCKING EXIST.

the 3d is 100% irrelevant. shadow? mirror? delay? FUCK THAT BRO it doesnt even exist! the onlyyy power it has is the one you give it.

you think you fell off? till now u were affirming and persisting but something horrible happened in your 3d and now everything sucks again? congratulations, it doesnt matter, cuz you still have it. you still have your desire.

you fucked up? you have doubts? you start looking at the 3d for validation? congratulations. doesnt matter. I still have what i want.

you felt negatively? you acknowledged the lack of ur desire? you thought whyy is it not here yet? congratulations. doesnt fucking matter at all. i already have it.

spiral. go ahead and cry and whine and have doubts and question if this is real or not. hate everything and feel like shit. doesnt matter baby, YOU STILLLL HAVE WHAT YOU WANT!!!

when we say the 3d doesnt matter. it truly doesnt. the only meaning the 3d has is the meaning we give it.

i felt like i fell off, the month changed and my 3d didnt so i started wondering where is it, why dont i have it, am i doing something wrong, then the intrusive thoughts follow “what if its not real” “omg am i just wasting my time” “what if i dont get it” “what will i do now” you know what i did? i gave myself the biggest smile and told myself….it doesnt matter sam, my love. you still have it. and i dooo. i still do.

you have to understand that this disgusting ass stinky crappy old 3d which is literally a graveyard, an absolute shitshow that does not have anything to do with us, its all the past, its all dead, so it doesnt matter how i react, when i know i have it in my god state, aka my imagination, aka the only true reality, aka the only reality that matters at all.

so you cann spiral. you can fuck up. my god you can have a mental fucking breakdown and ur 3d could turn into absolute shit and ur sp can hate u and ur dad could get cancer and a tsunami could come and world war 3 can start…IT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER!!!! IT HAS NOOOO EFFECT AT ALLL.

take ur power back. literally announce that no matter what this old dead reality shows u, ur life could go to complete shit, trust me that doesn’t matter when fulfillment is present in your heart. ur only job is to have it. stop reacting. stop stop stop reacting and start having, thats where all your power lies and thats the way to pure fulfillment.

-love, samu <3

[makelemonade]

Imagine sending your favourite genshin or even jjk men a video of you while they’re away on a mission/work trip.

but not just any video- specifically one where you’re on your back, a toy fucking into you and somehow you seems to have either taped the phone to your ceiling so he could see your whole body or you got a camera for the view.

but it’s not just ANY TOY. It’s those toys that produce insane amounts of fake cum and they don’t stop (I’m a slut for them okay) and he is losing it.

it’s 3 minutes, the first few seconds he’s watching you lay down, taking note of your shirt- it’s his. God that turns him on already, and what makes it worse is you have nothing else on. No parties, pants or a bra. Just his shirt.

You hike it up over your chest, mumbling “don’t wan’ get it dirty…” Your nipples are exposed and he wished he was there to play with them- hell suck on them too.

He watches you get comfy, reaching up to finally let the tip of the rather large fake dildo fit its way into your pussy and he’s surprised when it starts moving on its own- as if it has a mind.

It starts slow, and he feels himself throb against his pants, but he couldn’t take it out and jerk off just yet. He still had so much more to do today, but he didn’t wanna stop watching the video- he felt like he’d betray his morals and sin if he didn’t worship you the moment you sent the video.

Your moans make it so much worse. They’re so whiny, and he knows the toy isn’t enough for you- he knows you need his fat cock, fucking into you at a pace with a certain roughness you oh so love.

He groans when you reach one hand up to begin to play with your left nipple, whining even more as the toy started to go a bit faster. He loved the fact you were teasing yourself with it, knowing that he’d tease you just as much.

“M-miss you…” You breathed out with a moan, the toy going faster and deeper into you and your hands shoot for the sheets, gripping onto them.

He’s struggling insanely- would people notice if he left? Could he just abandon it all and come back to his slutty wife? God he was debating it.

“Nghh- baby! I need you!” You whine out as your hips start to thrust itself onto the toy and he literally almost moans at the sight.

It’s going a lot faster now, but not as fast as he could ever be with you. It’ll have to do though, since he can’t be there for you. He almost laughs however, because how could this slow toy ever truly satisfy you- it’s not like his cock which stretched you wide and the way you scream when he cums all-

Oh.

The toy cums.

His jaw drops and he literally moans at your gasp when it produces such insane amounts of fat cum to the point it forced itself out of you and went all over your chest, reaching your nipples. Now he understands why you hiked his shirt up.

It’s never-ending. There’s a pool of cum under you and it’s all over your chest. Like. ALL OVER.

It stops after 15 whole seconds of cumming nonstop and if anyone could see him right now, they’d wonder why the hell is his jaw so low, eyes so wide and DAMN his dick is so big you can see the outline just from his pants.

Yeah. Now he’s gotta take it out, he decides as he runs to a nearby private place while texting you.

Such a dirty slut. It’s ‘cum’ will never be the real thing, though. Can’t wait to come home and cum into you triple the amount it got on and in you.

^^ really any of the JJK + Genshin men I can honestly imagine them ALL. I imagined this heavily with Nanami, Geto, Alhaitham, Childe and Diluc. Also Goio but bro would teleport to u to fuck u and then teleport straight back LMFAO

[dollfacefantasy]

ONLY BAD PUPPIES ♡

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: when you get needy, you act up. lucky for you, logan understands that means you just need a firm hand to get you back in line.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, masturbation, pillow humping, pet play, light anal play (plug), daddy kink, praise/degradation, brat taming

wc: 1.9k

kinktober slot: day 23 - pet play

Of course, he'd do something like this. You should've known your punishment wouldn't be so simple. He wouldn't just make you touch yourself in front of him while he watched. That wasn't Logan's style as it pertained to taming you when you acted up. When you bratted out like you had earlier, he took it upon himself to truly humble you.

Today had been a busy day for both of you, but you'd been having a rough week. You felt extra needy for him as of late. The exact cause behind those feelings remained a mystery, but regardless of the specifics, you knew that the long list of tasks you performed over the last several hours did not make you happy.

All you wanted to do today was curl up with your boyfriend. You longed to sit in his lap while the tv played in the background, to have his hand stroking over your head and down your back, to feel him brush his thumb over your lips as he told you what a good girl you'd been.

But you didn't go about getting that attention the best way. In hindsight, you could admit that. It probably wasn't the best idea to tease him. Multiple times you rubbed the softest parts of your body against him and looked up at him with puppy eyes while innuendo spilled from your lips. You'd made a point to be huffy when he rebuffed you to finish up his work around the mansion. You tried giving him the cold shoulder to no effect which made you whiny.

And that was the one thing that guaranteed you a punishment. Because only bad puppies whine.

Right as the high-pitched words about him being so mean to you fell upon his ears, he suddenly finished up with whatever he was doing much quicker.

His hand curved around the back of your neck, guiding you up to your bedroom.

"You think you're cute, huh?" he asks under his breath, "Think you can get what you want by stamping your feet and throwing a tantrum?"

"I didn't-" you try to deny. But Logan doesn't take excuses either.

"You did. You think I don't know you? That I can't see the gears turning in your little head?"

The door to your room flings open with the force of his hand. He shuts it behind you firmly and leads you to the bed, sitting you down.

Already, your head hangs in shame, like a guilty pet who knows they're moments away from being scolded. He clicks his tongue at you in disapproval.

"What happened to all that attitude?" he taunts, yanking you by the hair to make you look up again, "C'mon. Let me have it. I was so mean to you today, wasn't I?"

Your lip sticks out into a pout. "I didn't mean it…" you try to justify.

"But you had no problem saying it before. So let me hear it again," he goads.

You whine and try to plead with your eyes to know avail. "I just wanted you to spend time with me," you say, guilt making your words much less convincing. You knew you'd been bothering him and that you could have waited. You just didn't want to.

"Spend time with you? Is that what you call it?" he says with a raised brow, "Be honest. You were getting fussy because you wanted me to 'spend time' bouncing you on my cock."

Heat creeps up from your belly, through your chest, and into your neck and cheeks. You can't answer because you know that he's right.

He chuckles, his hand rubbing down your scalp to massage the nape of your neck. "Mhm. You don't have to hide it, baby," he says. Dropping his hand away from your head, he walks over to the other side of the room to grab a few things you'd be needing soon. "I know how you are. You just can't help it. My puppy can't function if daddy doesn't give her attention for a few hours."

When he invokes his title and your own, the humiliation brewing in your belly feels more severe. You now know exactly what he's grabbing. As soon as he turns around to return to you, your suspicion is proven correct.

His hands hold the exact items you expected. One palm holds your collar while the other cradles the fake ears and tail. Your chest aches at the sight of them. They felt so good most times, but when you'd been bad, they became the ultimate tools to put you in your place.

He can see your reaction, and if the grin on his face is any indication, he loves it.

"What's wrong, pup? Thought you wanted to play," he says.

You don't have any coherent response to that. In no time, he strips you down and buckles the sleek band around your neck. The simple tag that reads 'puppy' dangles at the front. Next, the ears slide into place on your head. They were a nice set, pointing proudly upright. Last comes the tail. You don't get any real lube for it. That's a treat for good girls. All you get is his spit spread over the bulb before it prods at your puckered entrance. It slips in with relative ease, only drawing a tiny whimper from you as you adjust.

He stands back to admire his work. You kneel on the mattress, looking at him with the same guilt from earlier. Anticipation chews up your spine as you wait to hear your sentence. In the past, he'd made you get off on his boot. Another time, he leashed you to the bed while fucking you rough. Once he made you crawl around with a vibrator in. You could only shudder now as you imagine what lies ahead.

But it doesn't seem to be anything so drastic based on his words.

"You wanted to cum so bad all day today, puppy, so I'm gonna let you. You're just gonna have to be a big girl and do it yourself," he says, heading to the chair several feet from the bed.

He sits down and settles in, eyes staying on you the whole time. It's weird. The idea of starting to touch yourself while someone else just sits there. Doing it was one thing, but beginning feels separate to you.

Either way, your hand ventures between your thighs to rub at your folds. But before it can really get into it, he stops you.

Now you find out what the real punishment is.

"Ah ah ah, sweetheart. Puppies don't get to use their hands," he chides, that fucking smirk plastered across his face

You blink at the statement. It replays in your head again. His expression only grows more smug as you gawk at him, heat creeping up from your belly into your chest and neck.

"But… how?" you ask, as if you didn't already know, "What do you want me to do?"

"You're smarter than that. Use that little brain," he teases.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, air puffing out from your mouth. The solution is right in front of you - or rather, behind you, resting against the headboard at the top of your bed.

Slowly, you turn around and reach for his pillow. You bring it around your body and crawl on top of it. The smoothness of the linen is cool against your cunt. It feels wrong there, like it won't provide enough friction to make you cum.

You give the puppy eyes one more try on him, but they yield no success.

"Get to it, pup. Let's see you take care of yourself for a change," he says.

And that's that. Arguing any further would be pointless and only get you in more trouble.

You lower yourself a bit more, making sure you're flush against the cushion. It puffs up from the pressure of your legs on either side. Then you start. You begin to drag your cunt back and forth, rocking your hips in small strokes.

It doesn't do much at first except make your head foggy with shame. Humping a pillow is a much more intensive process than just using your fingers. All of you moves with each thrust of your pelvis. Your breasts bounce with your momentum. The tail sticking out of your ass shakes and catches on your leg. Even the tag on your collar bobbles around.

"Atta girl," Logan praises from the sidelines, "You're gonna learn how to do this, so you don't have to bother daddy when he's trying to work."

You nod before your head falls back. Despite this method of self-pleasure not feeling that great at first, you were finding out it was a slow burn. The more you rutted on the plush surface between your legs, the greater the intensity of the sparks of ecstasy between your thighs.

He can feel himself starting to stiffen in his jeans. Everything about you was so needy and pathetic right now. It drives him crazy. His hand slides over his lap to palm his semi-hard bulge. From the sharp jerks of your hips to the shaky whimpers coming out of your mouth, everything about you calls to every cell in his body.

Like always, you don't last long. Puppies are never good at being patient. As soon as you find a rhythm you like, it only takes a couple minutes for you to work yourself to the edge. Your eyes go glossy, breaths morphing into harsh pants. Your tongue practically lolls out of your mouth. And then, once you realize how close you are, come the pleas.

"D-daddy," you choke out around other sounds of carnality, "Please, can I cum? Please please please please."

You were a natural when it came to begging. But you were bad, so he doesn't let you off easy tonight. He doesn't answer your calls for him and continues to watch. Being ignored is worse than a no to you, and he knows this.

"Please. I need it- I- I can't wait," you cry, "Pretty please, daddy."

"You think you've earned it?" he asks.

"Uh huh, I did. I earned it," you repeat, slurring your words a little.

He pauses for a moment, making you wait before he gives his permission. "Alright. Go ahead then. It's the only one you're getting tonight."

You try to force the words 'thank you' out, but instead, you can only moan as release crashes into you. Your hips buck wildly on the pillow. Arousal gushes from you and darkens the already existing wet patch. Your chest heaves with all the feelings rushing through you, your back arching before you topple forward.

Even with your face smooshed against the blankets, your hips still twitch in the afterglow. You ride out the little remaining bursts on his pillow. When you finally get yourself to sit up, eyes droopy and mind hazy.

He's in front of you now. His cock is out, his hand stroking it slowly.

"You did good, puppy. You were a very good girl," he praises.

You bask in it for a moment before your eyes fall down to his hard shaft in front of you. He smiles, knowing you could never resist a chance to have his dick.

"That's right. You were good, so now you get a treat. Daddy knows how much his puppy likes to lick."

[makeitmingi]

Dream Come True

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Cute Fluff

Pairing: San x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Mom!Reader, Dad!San, Daughter (Choi Haeun)

Summary: Your daughter has 8 best friends, also known as ANITEEZ. But her bestest friend, the one she doesn't go anywhere without is Sandeoki. So, after finding out the segment plans for ATEEZ's upcoming fanmeet, you and San decided to bring her for a little surprise.

Word count: 4.6K

[A/N: I know Sandeoki is a male but I followed the idea of San saying Sandeoki is a female and a princess.]

"Omma!"

"Yeah, baby? Why are you shouting?" You came to her bedroom to see her sitting in front of her stuffed toys with a pout on her face. The pout very much mirrored that of her father's. It was absolutely adorable, your daughter Choi Haeun was absolutely a princess.

"I can't find Sandeoki's cape. She has to wear it when we go or she'll get cold if she doesn't wear it." She whined. You giggled and came over, sitting next to her.

"I'm sure it's here, baby. We have time to find it. Let me help you, hmm?" You stroked her head.

"Sandeoki's coming with us to see appa and samchons?" You asked, even though you already knew the answer to that.

"Mhmm, I want to bring all of them but I can't." Haeun pouted. The 8 Aniteez plushes were her best friends. But Sandeoki was her 'bestest friend'. Sandeoki went everywhere with her.

You called it manipulation, San only putting Sandeoki in front of Haeun so she would take to her first.

Of course, he wouldn't allow Haeun to like another Aniteez character more than his own.

"It's okay, baby. I'm sure they understand. You and Sandeok can tell them all about it when you come back." You cooed. She grinned at your words and nodded her head excitedly. You finally found Sandeoki's cape nestled within the pile and even helped her put it on the purple cat.

"Here you go. Sandeoki is ready for the Ateez fanmeet concert." You presented Sandeoki to her and she let out a loud squeal, hugging the plush happily.

"Sandeoki! Thank you, omma!" She cheered.

"You're welcome, baby. Now, let's get ready to go see appa." You kissed her cheek and led her out to the bathroom.

"I'm excited to see appa!" She said as you helped her change into her outfit. Haeun, from the day she was born, was a daddy's girl. Rightfully so since she was San's precious princess.

"You like to watch appa sing and dance?" You pinched her cheek.

"And samchons!" She added. You nodded and looked at her finished outfit, feeling rather proud of yourself.

You had picked this outfit and put the pieces together. It was a surprise for San. You usually did well with styling your child up or putting together outfits that mimicked the stage outfits that Ateez would wear for their performances.

"Do you like it, baby?" You asked as she went to the mirror to look at herself.

"I love it! It's so pretty." She jumped up and down. Haeun also has the energy of her father. You checked the time and went to gather the last bits of Haeun's things before the car would come.

"Let's go, baby!" You called out. Haeun hurriedly ran over with Sandeoki in her arms.

The car that San sent was already waiting downstairs in the carpark. The driver came out and bowed, opening the door for you.

"Thank you." You smiled and Haeun copied you. You smiled proudly and stroked her head, helping her onto the seat. Of course San planned for everything, there was a booster seat for Haeun ready.

"Will appa be happy to see us?" Haeun asked a the driver drove.

"Of course he will, baby. You're his princess and I'm sure he will be very happy to see how pretty you look too." You tapped her cheek. She grinned and kicked her feet happily, hugging Sandeoki and swaying from left to right. Haeun was so full of life and always happy, truly San's daughter.

"Alright, baby. Remember the rules?" You turned to her as the van was pulling up to the security checks, which meant you were already near the venue.

"Always stay with omma, appa or samchons. Don't run or talk to strangers." She recited, having memorised it.

"Good. Now let's go find appa." You helped her down from the van. She immediately held your hand.

"Hello~ Nice to see you Haeun~" All the staff that recognised you and Haeun greeted you happily as you walked in. You bowed your head while Haeun gave shy waves to everyone.

"Manager nim." You called out to one of the Ateez managers that was waiting for you. Seeing a familiar face, Haeun ran forward.

"Samchon!" She giggled and the manager smiled, scooping Haeun up into his arms.

"Thanks for waiting for us and picking us." You thanked.

"No need to thank, (y/n). Here are your passes for the day. Did you dress Sandeoki up for the concert? You take such good care of her." Just like that, the two were wrapped up in their own conversation while you walked alongside them.

"We're here. You can knock." The manager encouraged. Haeun boldly knocked on the door and there were voices coming from inside before the manager opened it for her.

"Appa!" Haeun got down and ran over to her father.

"My princess." San stood up with a big smile and picked Haeun up, lifting her up into the air and hugging her tightly.

"And there's my queen." San chuckled, coming over to wrap his free arm around you and place a kiss on your crown. You hugged his waist and kissed his cheek.

"Appa, put me down so you can see my clothes." Haeun squirmed. San obediently put Haeun down.

"Did you... dress her up in my Crazy Form outfit?" San turned to you in surprise.

"Impressive, huh?" You nodded with raised eyebrows, knowing San was fangirling internally. He held his chest and you were actually afraid he may be having a heart attack.

"Breathe, Sannie. Breathe." You rubbed his back.

"You look so pretty, princess. Even better than appa. S-Someone get my phone, I need to take pictures. Where is my phone?!" San frantically searched his dressing table and bag. He retrieved his phone and took multiple pictures, you even snapped pictures of the father and daughter together.

"Finally, it's our turn for some princess time!" Yunho opened his arms to give Haeun a big hug. Haeun loved it, she was soaking up all the attention her uncles were giving her.

"Oh, my baby! Come here, I've missed you." Wooyoung showered Haeun in kisses, making her squeal out in laughter.

"Uncle Wooyo! Tickles!" Her giggles filled the entire dressing room, bringing a positive energy.

"Wanna go see the stage?" Seonghwa offered. Haeun's eyes lit up as she turned to you and San for approval. The both of you nodded her head and Haeun left with her uncles.

"The moment she comes, the other 7 follow her like she's the pied piper." San shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't act like you aren't the biggest fool for her." You slapped his chest.

"That's true. She's a mini you, how can I not spoil her and worship her? I'll proudly admit that I'm the biggest fools for my two girls." San slung his arm around your shoulder to pull you against him, pressing his forehead against your temple.

"What are you going to do when she gets a boyfriend, hmm?" You raised an eyebrow. San gave you a disgusted, offended look with a deep frown.

"How dare you. Take that back right now." He said seriously.

"I'm serious, Sannie. One day, she's going to meet a boy and bring him home to meet us." You shrugged.

"No, no boys. Never. Both her and Sandeoki, no. No boys. The only man Haeun needs is me. She's lucky I let the other Ateez members be close to her." San shook his head in disapproval.

"She'll hate you if you scare off a boy she likes." You giggled.

"I don't care. She can hate me. And it's not just me. What makes you think the other 7 will be okay with a boyfriend?" San asked.

"Imagining that in my head is funny but scary at the same time. I feel sorry for the boy she'll bring home." You chuckled, leaning against San while he rolled his eyes. He just wanted to be done with this topic of boys and future boyfriends for his dear princess.

"Think she'll like her surprise?" San murmured.

"Definitely. I think she'll be so shocked she wouldn't know what to do." You giggled.

One of the reasons you brought Haeun today was because one of the segments of the Ateez Fanmeet was the members dressing up as their Aniteez characters.

"Sandeoki is her bestest friend. Imagine her meeting a lifesize one, even though it's still my face." San said. You nodded with a hum.

"Can't wait." You could only imagine Haeun's reaction to seeing San dress up as Sandeoki.

"Well, say goodbye to your regular clothes because you know once she sees you in your Sandeoki costume, she'll never let you remove it, right?" You chuckled.

"She loves me more than Sandeoki." San said confidently.

"Someone sure is delusional." You raised your eyebrows and looked away, making San frown at you with a small pout. He pressed his face close to yours, invading your space to try to make you take back what you said. He refuses to be anything less than Haeun's number 1. Yes, that includes you.

"Take it back." San pouted, leaning over you until you were sandwiched between him and the couch. You laughed, hands coming up to squish his cheeks.

"She really has your pout." You said. He rolled his eyes and grasped your waist, moving you to sit on his lap.

"San! There are people around and the other guys could come back with Haeun soon." You scolded him as your cheeks heated up.

"It's fine." He waved you off, keeping his grip on you.

As you said, Haeun ran in, holding a bag of candy with her while Wooyoung held Sandeoki for her since her other hand was holding Yeosang's hand.

"All she wanted to do was see the stage. I didn't think all 7 of you would go." You giggled as they came in.

"Omma! Appa! An unnie gave me candy! Lookie! Lookie!" Haeun showed you while you bent down to her eye level to see.

"Wow, baby. Did you say thank you?" You stroked her head. She nodded obediently and you smiled, complimenting her. Haeun ran to show San the candies and Wooyoung handed you Sandeoki. She only trusted Wooyoung and San with Sandeoki.

"Okay, continue your hair and make up before we need to do the fan soundcheck." Hongjoong clapped. Luckily, San did his hair and makeup so he could stay with Haeun and you.

"I want to give samchons candy." Haeun said.

"But that means you'll only have one left, princess." San told her, holding her tiny hands in his bigger ones.

"Hmm... That's okay! Samchons don't have candy." She pouted after thinking about her poor uncles without candy. San proudly hugged her, kissing her cheek.

"Go on." He patted her bum to encourage her but he still kept his eyes on her while she went around.

"Uncle Jongho. Candy for you!" She went to him and placed a piece of candy on his thigh while he was getting his hair done.

"Thank you, princess. That's very kind of you." Jongho couldn't look down at her but he could reach out to pat her head. Giggling, she went around to give out the rest of the candy before finding her way back to you.

"Where's Sandeoki?" Haeun looked around, realising she didn't have her best friend with her.

"With appa." You pointed to San, who was speaking with the stylist, still protectively holding Haeun's Sandeoki with his arm. She ran over to retrieve the purple cat but San just picked her up.

"Appa, I came for Sandeoki." Haeun explained, holding her father's cheeks.

"It's okay, you and Sandeok can stay with me." San laughed. Haeun nodded, knowing she had to stay quiet while San discussed 'work' stuff.

"The fans are here for the soundcheck. Let's get ready." Hongjoong rounded everyone up for the final briefing. Haeun sat in Mingi's lap, participating and listening to Hongjoong.

"Bye, princess. We'll be back." The boys bid Haeun goodbye as they went out for the VIP soundcheck. The fans all greeted the Ateez members happily. The manager invited you and Haeun to watch from the side wings. You held Haeun in your arms, not wanting her to accidentally trip or be in the way.

"Can you see appa?" You asked. She nodded and pointed to her father, who was smiling and waving at the fans.

"Are we going to stay here?" Haeun looked at you.

"For a while, baby. After that, we can sit out there and watch appa and samchons." You explained. She grinned and hugged your neck, eyes trained on her father and uncles.

"Thank you, ATINY! We'll see you later!" The 8 boys waved to the fans and came backstage.

"My baby." Wooyoung declared and stole Haeun from you, kissing her cheeks as you all headed back. San held your hand.

"Wooyoung's always stealing her." San shook his head. You laughed, you were glad that all the boys doted on Haeun as if she was their own daughter.

"Okay, grab a quick bite if you're still hungry and get changed." Seonghwa said, helping round up the kids since Hongjoong was speaking to the stage director. Since everyone was rushing around, you sat with Haeun on one of the sofas and gave her some snacks.

"Are you sleepy, baby?" You asked, tucking her hair behind her ears as she munched on her snacks.

"Nope!" She shook her head, holding one of her biscuits out to you. You smiled and leaned in to eat it appreciatively. San came over, having changed into his stage outfit.

"Appa!" Haeun beamed.

"Mmm, my princess." San cooed. He wanted to hug her and carry her but he knew he couldn't wrinkle his stage clothes.

"We're going on stage soon. I can't walk you to your seats but I'll get one of the staff to bring you." San told you, leaning in to give you a quick peck.

"Sure, Sannie, don't worry about us. We'll be fine. Good luck." You smiled. He squeezed your hand.

"Good luck appa!" Haeun wished. San leaned in closer to her and tapped his cheek. Haeun willingly gave him a kiss on the cheek but that caused a chain reaction because 7 others queued up behind San to receive good luck cheek kisses from the princess. San shot everyone a flat look.

"Yah, she's mine!" He yelled in outrage when Yunho demanded a kiss on each cheek from Haeun. Of course, they all ignored San, as if he could stop all 7 of them.

"Bye, princess." Mingi patted her head.

"Let's go, baby. Get Sandeoki." You told her. She held the plush with her and held your hand.

"Bye~" She waved to everyone as the staff member brought you out. It was a shame that for safety reasons, you could only watch from far away, you couldn't risk being in the VIP mosh pits.

"How's that?" You asked as you sat her onto the booster seat that was placed on the chair for her so she could see the stage.

"I can see." She told you.

When the show started, you and Haeun had the time of your lives, it was an Ateez concert after all. But you were excited, anticipating the surprise part of the concert and her reaction. So when the lights darkened and the intro the Bouncy started, you held your breath.

"OMMA! IT'S ANITEEZ! It's Sandeoki!" Haeun's jaw dropped as she screamed loudly. You were glad the fans were screaming too or else they would have heard her.

"Yeah, baby!" You nodded, helping her stand in her seat as she jumped excitedly, seeing her friends.

"Sandeok ah!" She yelled. You took a video, feeling your heart melt as she was just starstruck, seeing her 8 best friends on stage.

"Sandeoki!" Haeun waved, trying to get Sandeoki's attention. You didn't have the heart to tell her that you were both so far away, San or Sandeoki couldn't see her.

"Omma, did you see?" She turned to you with the biggest grin you have ever seen.

"Yeah, baby." You giggled.

"I love them." She declared to you once the song ended and the fans were just screaming for the boys dressed as Aniteez. You nodded and helped her sit back down.

It was time for the boys to do their introductions as Aniteez, with their specially tuned mics that made their voices higher and more kid-like. Hongjoong or Jjoongrami was the first one to go, waiting for the fans screams to die down a little before he could start. He sat on the ground, bouncing before he fell over.

"Oh no." You shook your head as you laughed at them. Seonghwa and San went to help him up, you knew that tail on Jjoongrami's costume must have been heavy.

"Ah!" But down went Seonghwa and San. Then the other boys stacked themselves on top.

"No!" Haeun reacted with a gasp. You assumed it was just a normal reaction until you turned your head to see her absolutely shattered.

"Sandeoki...?" Her bottom lip quivered as she watched in horror as San was squished at the bottom of the Aniteez pile by the others. Her Sandeoki even fell from her arms but you quickly caught it.

"Sandeoki!" Haeun burst out into tears, wailing as loud as ever.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, baby." You immediately picked her up, still shocked by her reaction.

"Shh, shh. Baby, they're just playing. Sandeoki is okay. Nothing happened to her." You told her but Haeun was inconsolable, firming believeing that her Sandeoki was hurt. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she cried for Sandeoki.

"Okay, let's get some air." Struggling slightly to gather your stuff with your free hand, you carried Haeun out of there. You didn't want her wailing to disturb the other fans.

"Alright, alright." You patted her back, swaying to calm her down. You brought her back to the backstage area.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" The Ateez managers ran over worriedly.

"Everything's fine. She just saw Sandeoki fall and end up at the bottom of the pile but I told her Sandeoki's not hurt." You explained over Haeun's crying.

"Aww. Omma is right, princess. Sandeoki is okay. You'll see her soon." The managers all cooed and comforted her.

"Princess." You sighed in relief when you saw San, Hongjoong, Yunho and Jongho appear at the door.

"Baby, look who it is. See? They're okay." You pointed to the door and wiped her tears. The 4, especially San, were just as shocked to see Haeun so upset and crying. Of course, they expected her to be happy and excited to meet them in their Aniteez costumes. However, seeing Sandeoki, Haeun burst into another round of tears.

"What's wrong, princess?" San came over with a frown. You forced a smile as the manager helped you explain to the members what happened since you were trying to calm Haeun down.

"You guys get changed first. I'll settle her." San said and the 3 other Ateez members nodded.

"Princess Haeun?" San came over. Even though San's face wsa shown, Haeun didn't even register her dad as Sandeoki.

"You are such a good friend. But I'm okay, I'm not hurt." Although it was a struggle, San managed to carry Haeun into his arms. You reached over to wipe her tears and nose.

"Sandeoki?" She sniffled.

"Hello, Haeun. It's nice to meet you." San leaned his head down to let Haeun pat his head.

"You okay?" She asked. San nodded and used Sandeoki's cheek to nuzzle against Haeun, making her laugh. He put her down since he didn't want the giant costume head to hit her and Haeun hugged Sandeoki's leg tightly.

"I love you, Sandeoki." Haeun buried her face against Sandeoki's purple fur. Everyone in the room melted at her words. You knew San was trying his best to just explode.

"I love you too, Haeunnie. Thank you for being my bestest friend." San stroked her head.

"I'm your bestest friend?" Haeun looked up.

"Yes, of course." San chuckled. Haeun looked at you with excitement before she squealed and hugged San again. With Haeun calm, she bid goodbye to Sandeoki, who went behind the curtain to change.

"Go, we're okay." You said to San, who winked at you and ran back to stage while the other 4 Aniteez members came back in.

"Hi." Haeun shyly waved to them.

Hopefully it seemed like Haeun wasn't too scarred by what happened as Bbyongming and Wooyonyang chased after her playfully for a bit and ran around with her.

"Baby, shall we go finish the concert?" You held out her own Sandeoki to her. Haeun gave Sandeoki a big hug, stroking her ears. Reaching up to hold your hand, you led her back to your seats to finish the rest of the Ateez concert. And thankfully, there were no more Haeun meltdowns.

"Thank you, ATINY!" The boys all waved and Haeun waved excitedly before leaving with you.

"Are we going to see appa and samchons now?" She asked. You nodded and went to the waiting room with her. Haeun sat in your lap, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"Are you sleepy, baby?" You asked. She nodded, burying her face against your chest. You rubbed her back.

"But I wanna wait for appa~" She whined but was interrupted by another yawn.

"Okay." You stroked her head, you knew the boys wouldn't come in so fast. There were usually VIPs that came backstage for photos and a debriefing session after performances.

"Is she asleep?" You asked a staff since you couldn't see Haeun's face with the way she was leaning against your front.

"Yeah, she is." The staff member replied with a small smile. Grabbing one of the throw blankets, she unfolded it and draped it over Haeun. You smiled gratefully and mouthed a 'thank you' before she left so she wouldn't disturb Haeun.

"Would you like to go to one of the other smaller rooms? It'll be quieter." One of the hairstylists came over to you, an adoring smile on his face as he looked at Haeun.

"No need, thank you. She doesn't seem bothered by the noise." You giggled. He chuckled and went to pack up.

"You must have been tired, hmm?" You whispered, kissing Haeun's head as she rested against you.

"Good job everybody!" The 8 loud boys yelled as they entered.

"SHHH!" All the staff shushed the boys with angry looks, making the 8 jump in shock and huddle together like scared puppies. You couldn't help but laugh, their relationship was truly special.

"Haeun is sleeping!" One of the managers whispered harshly. You were touched that they really all cared about Haeun sleeping.

"Awwww, poor princess. This is way past her bedtime." San came over with a small frown as he took in Haeun sleeping soundly in your arms. You smiled and lifted a hand to wave at him. That made San smile as he leaned over to give you a kiss, being careful not to disturb Haeun. He gently stroked her head.

"Let me quickly change then we'll go home. Get the princess to bed." He told you.

"Take your time. Good job, everyone. We had a great time." You said to the other boys. They all smiled and thanked you before going to change out of their stage outfits.

"Let me carry her." San offered.

"It's okay, San. You were working the whole day, you must be tired." You shook your head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm never too tired for my princess." San insisted, reaching over to carry Haeun. She stirred for a bit, making the two of you freeze.

"Shh..." You patted her back and she relaxed in San's arms again. You let out a sigh of relief and went to hug the boys.

"Get home safe." Hongjoong patted your head. You and San waved before leaving.

Luckily San had called a cab earlier to take all 3 of you home. Since the managers had to send the others home, you were worried about having San and a sleeping Haeun with you. You didn't know if you would be harassed by fans trying to get a picture of your family.

"I didn't think Haeun would cry." San chuckled, leaning against the headrest as he looked at you.

"She was crying for Sandeoki. I'm not sure if she knows the concept of death or what it is but she sure knows what is it like to be hurt. And to her, Sandeoki was hurt." You giggled.

"I thought bringing her would make her dreams come true, not make her cry. If only I didn't trip over Seonghwa hyung..." He sighed.

"You did make her happy, Sannie. She was so happy when you guys came out on stage." You cupped his cheek.

"Now I hope I didn't traumatise her for life." He shook his head.

"I'm sure she's fine. She was over to moon, getting to hug Sandeoki and meet her backstage. Plus she played with the others too." You assured him and San leaned into your touch with a small smile.

"She was so cute though. Please tell me you took pictures or a video." San said.

"Of course I did. One day, she'll be so grateful for all that you do for her. You're the best dad ever." You smiled softly.

"Well, I can only do it with the best mom and wife." San complimented back. When the car stopped, you all got out and headed up to your family home. Even though he was busy working and performing, San still helped you with Haeun. You both wiped her body with a wet cloth and changed her clothes.

"She'll have to shower tomorrow morning then. Luckily I showered her once before leaving the house." You said, putting the clothes in the laundry while San helped you unpack Haeun's bag.

"You can shower first, Sannie." You told him.

"Thanks, baby. Let me go return Sandeoki first." San held the purple cat and quietly entered Haeun's room.

"Thank you for always taking care of her." San stroked Sandeoki's head before tucking her under Haeun's arm, who automatically snuggled against Sandeoki.

"Goodnight, princess." San kissed Haeun's head before leaving. He went to shower while you made San a late night snack.

"Baby, I'm done." San came out after his shower, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"Alright, I'll go shower. I made you kimchi udon, you're always hungry after a concert because you don't eat dinner." You said. He nodded, you knew him so well. You tip toed to give him a kiss before going to the bathroom to take a shower.

When you came out of the bathroom, San was laying in bed, fast asleep with his phone in his hand. You went out to see the lights off, table cleared and dishes done.

"You must have been tired." You repeated the words you said to Haeun, taking San's phone and putting it to charge on his nightstand.

"Mmm, baby...?" San woke up when he felt your hand brush against his.

"Rest, Sannie." You said, climbing into bed.

"Hug me." San opened his arms. You laughed and scooted close to him, letting his arms wrap around you. He laid against your chest, your heartbeat always able to lull him to sleep.

"Thank you for working so hard for us." You whispered, pressing your cheek against his head.

"Anything for my queen and my princess." He mumbled.

~

Masterlist

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Missed You

Step mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Word count: 859

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation/nursing, emotional distress, guilt, age gap (W=35 R=19)

Authors notes: Thank you to @scarlethexelove for helping with this when I was stressing

You'd been at college all year, using every excuse to not go home. You were so nervous to see her again. Before you had left, your stepmom had let you know how she truly felt about you. You felt the same, but it scared you, so you ran away to college and stayed away. Now it was the middle of June and you sat in your car in the driveway, gripping the wheel until your knuckles were white.

She's your stepmom. This isn't right. It's wrong to be in love with her, but you couldn't help it. Her warm and loving nature pulls you in. You tried to get her off your mind at college, but every time you tried to be with someone else, it felt wrong.

Every time, you thought of her. Once or twice, you'd been slapped and left when you called out her name. You take a deep, shaky breath as you finally get out of the car and grab your suitcase. Opening the front door when you get there you call out, "Anyone home?" Then you hear her feet padding on the floor and she comes around the corner. The biggest smile on her face. You want to melt when you see it.

"Oh malyshka, you're home." She comes over and wraps her arms around you. You can't help but melt into her. All the tension you've been holding onto melts away in an instant. Your arms wrap around her waist as you bury your face in her chest.

You breathe her in, and suddenly you want to cry. You left her for ten months. Ten fucking months. You guys got to be together for two weeks, and then you left her. You feel so shitty for that.

“I'm..m'sorry for leaving like that...” Your voice cracks and breaks. Wanda rubs soothing circles on your back,

“Shhh moya krasivaya sladkaya devochka (my beautiful sweet girl).” She brings you over to the couch.

“I-I missed you so much, Mama.” Wanda shushes you again as she pulls you into her lap. She makes you feel safe and wanted. Who cares what others think of you and your relationship with Wanda. You want this.

Wanda kisses the top of your head as she cradles you in her arms. “I love you so much, malyshka. I'm just happy you're home.”

“R-really Mama?” You ask, looking up at her. She had you cradled so nicely. You were in the perfect spot to suckle. You had gotten to do it once before you left, and Wanda had promised that when you came back for break, she'd be lactating for you. This confused you because at the time, as you didn't realize you could induce that without being pregnant.

You doubted that she'd be prepared for this. Maybe Thanksgiving and Christmas she had tried, and then when you didn't show up, you assumed she'd give up on that little fantasy

Wanda gently strokes your cheek. “Oh moya sladkaya devochka (my sweet girl) of course Mama loves and misses you.” You whine and nuzzle into her chest.

“Love you too, Mama. M'sorry I didn't come back, was scared.” You mumble against her.

“What were you scared of, sweetheart?” She asks and you blush, burying your face against her.

“S-scared of you...of of falling in love and...and...” She pulls you back out and into a kiss that you melt into. Your racing thoughts coming to a halt.

“I understand that it's scary baby, but I do love you so very much.” A heat rises in you, your stomach flipping as you grip her shirt tightly.

“Love you mama! So so much!” You blush even harder and hide your face, which causes her to chuckle.

You're nuzzling into her chest, and you hear as she lets out a gasp. You look up to her, your eyes wide with wonder.

“What is it, Mama?” You ask.

“Mama's chest is sensitive, baby.” Then you notice it. A wet spot where her nipple is. You lick your lips at the thought.

“M-Mama...are..are you...?”

She smiles down at you. Without answering, she moves you enough to pull her shirt off, revealing her bare chest. Her pebbled peaks leaking some milk. You lick your lips as you can't help but stare.

“You...you still...?” You swallow hard just wanting to give in and latch on.

“Every time I knew a break was coming up, I'd start back up.” She pulls you gently until you happily latch on, feeling her warm milk filling your mouth. You relax against her, eyes twinkling up at her as you listen. “I never gave up hope that you'd come back. I knew you'd find your way back.”

You whine around her as you continue to suckle. Feeling bad for leaving her full and sensitive, just waiting for you to be here. “S-Sowwy Mama.” You mumble around her some of her milk trickling out your mouth.

She carefully wipes it up. “Enough apologies, milaya. All that matters is this and we have two whole weeks to ourselves.” You get excited at the thought of two whole weeks with just her and all the stuff the two of you would get up to.

[luveline]

i'm missing coworker!james so much... is he doing okay?

James is poorly :( fem

James is a cruel kind of ill. Desperate to escape the dreaded ‘man flu’, he tries hard to portray the common cold. Doesn’t whine, groan or moan, simply suffers the near constant sneezing and his twinging neck without comment. 

Luckily, he has two —two! because you like him enough to be concerned! barely!— nice deskmates who ply him with tea and worry alike. 

“Did you take that antihistamine?” Remus asks. 

“I did, yeah. You watched me take it an hour ago and try as I might, I haven’t regurgitated it yet.” 

“Don’t be disgusting, he’s just worried,” you say. 

A month ago, you might’ve said it with deep, genuine ire. James annoys you and his choice of imagery is hardly workplace appropriate, but for some reason you’re good to him lately. You’re softening, and why shouldn’t you be? James is a boy worth softening for. 

He sneezes hard into a tissue in his palm and knocks the desk, sending his small crowd of figurines skittering, their light green bodies scuffed with scratches. They fall over each day. You like rearranging them. 

You also like feeding James biscuits, and pretending you don’t like him. Or maybe pretending you do. It’s hard to tell what’s real. 

“Jesus,” he says, forgetting to be demure as he drops his forehead against his closed fist. “I can’t take it much longer.” 

“You need to calm down, is all. Every time you sneeze you trigger the inflammation in your nose, which makes you more likely to sneeze again,” Remus says. He doesn’t sound particularly pitying, but he does then stand to grab James’ mug as he heads to the kitchen. 

In an office made up of mostly Brits, it’s extremely common for everyone to make one another a tea or coffee when they get one for themselves, but it’s a sweet gesture for Remus to keep James topped up nonetheless. It also provides for moments like this: you and him alone. Not awkward anymore. 

“Do you have painkillers?” he asks.

You open the drawer of your desk and offer him your pouch. “Here.” 

Inside are many things. A box of lil-lets, plasters in sterile wrappings, throat soothers, ibuprofen, a treasure trove of cures for little ailments. 

“Just, help yourself to anything you want.” 

“You’re an angel.” James unveils a shiny purple chocolate bar. “I can have Freddie?”

“Freddo,” you correct. “Come on, James, it’s on the packet.” 

He doesn’t truly want it. He doubts he could taste it, and he drops it back in. 

“Oh, no, you can have it!” you say, softer. “I’m just being pedantic.” 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can do chocolate right now.” 

“Right, um… well, I have a sandwich?” 

“What kind of sandwich?” he asks. 

“One of those impossible BLT’s. But I can get you a proper sandwich, James. They have those sesame seed rolls in the vending machine.” 

James doesn’t understand why you’re being so nice to him. “I must look awful,” he murmurs, letting his aching, pulsing head drop onto the desk. He sniffs uselessly. Fuck, he hates work. Why can’t he go home?

“You never look awful,” you say. 

James turns his face to see you’ve lowered your own, resting your cheek in your hand, your knuckles grazing the table. 

“You’re being too nice to me. I’m dying.” 

“You’re the one who’s mean to me, James. I’m your unwilling victim.”

“As opposed to being my willing victim.” James hates being ill, his lips are dry and his throat feels sharp and he’s changed his mind, he does want the Freddo. “Please be nice to me again.” 

“You know what’s good for this? Nasal spray. That’ll fix you.” 

“You could fix me,” James says. You don’t answer. He presses his nose to the table. “My days are always good ones when you can't be bothered to pretend you don’t like me.” 

“Who says I’m pretending?” 

James whines. “That’s worse.” 

You tease a bit of his hair behind his ear. James is content to let you, content to never move again, balmed by the softness of your touch as you draw along the outline of his ear to his jaw. “Don’t press your glasses into your nose, you’ll start sneezing again,” you whisper. 

James refuses to move. “Stroke my hair,” he demands.

“No way.”

“You’re no fun.”

“But I’m having a much better day than you are.” 

He sulks. This is exactly why James hides your stuff and leaves you off of email chains you should probably be in. You’re horrible, awful, evil, with no sympathy for him and no friendliness, either. James was far better off when he was solely annoyed at you, and not whatever useless state of being this is where his mood depends on your willingness to make friends. If James could, he would—

“Are you okay?” you say, your voice as soft as your fingertip where it traces slowly through his curly hair. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m worried about you…” 

James might fall in love with you if you keep whispering sweet stuff like that. You hesitate at the nape of his neck before dragging your hand up through a tuft of curls. 

“If you don’t get better soon, your voice will go and I’ll have to talk to Lang and Co. on the phone again. You know I hate their finance team leader,” you finish. 

You sound so pretty that James almost misses your slight. Then decides he’ll allow it as long as you keep stroking his hair.  —

coworker james au

[loaksky]

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

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neng © 2023

[starlight-library]

Impromptu dates | LN4

pairing: lando norris x sick!bookworm!reader

summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

warnings: none!

fc: none!

wc: 859

Most people hated being sick.

It’s understandable that people hated being sick. They don’t feel. They feel gross. They feel off. The list goes on and on on why people hated being sick. Especially people who are more independent and hate the idea of someone else taking care of them. Which you understood as it hit a bit too close to home.

Which is why as someone fiercely independent as you are, people never understood why you enjoy being sick. 

You could never find the words to explain it when people ask you on the spot. You try and try yet you’re never happy with your answer and people never quite believed you which was fair but you didn’t care. You enjoyed it when you were sick. 

Not violently ill, which you emphasize. You did not enjoy running a super high fever, or running to the bathroom, or having your head constantly over a toilet vomiting up basically nothing. That was not fun. You enjoy the kind of sickness where you can’t go out into the world for a day or two. Maybe a low grade fever that’ll pass or a quick stomach bug that’s out of your system fast but you still take the precaution and stay indoors. 

Why?

Well that’s because it means you can stay under the covers after a shower with your kindle in its little tablet holder. Page turner remote in hand while having your water and drink of choice (mostly iced coffee), and some white noise as background noise. It was truly perfection for you.

Yet it was Lando’s hell.

Lando, your boyfriend, hated when you were sick. It meant no cuddles. No hugs. No kisses. Any physical contact was on halt and it was already torture given his schedule so the rare time he did get to see you in person and you were sick? He was miserable. Sure, you two video called but it just made him more sad that he wasn’t there to take care of you even if you swore that you didn’t need someone to take care of you. He refused to believe it so he would send you meals and medicine. He refused to let you pay him back so you’ve learned to accept it without the guilt weighing on your shoulders. It was a nice agreement you two had silently made and nothing really could beat this.

Until now.

There was a month break in between Singapore and Austin and Lando was going to soak up every second he could get and it was fine till somehow you caught a stomach bug. Lando refused to leave which also meant he caught the stomach bug.

You’re happily half laying/half sitting next to Lando against some pillows under a weighted heated blanket. You have one of his sweatshirts on while sipping your iced coffee and looking at your kindle while Lando tosses and turns next to you. You tried offering him medicine or some crackers and soup but he’s turned all the options down but now it seems he’s settled down. You look over and are greeted with the same green-blue eyes you’ve grown to pick out of the crowd in a moment. You see the curls sticking to his forehead and gently you push some out of the way and smile. “Hey.”

“How are you drinking iced coffee right now?” The Brit asks.

You shrug before smiling, “I don’t know. Guess I feel better after cleaning my stomach out and taking some medicine unlike someone.” Poking his forehead, you giggle while he huffs slightly and moves his head away. You hear Lando grumble something about the medicine tasting bad and you roll your eyes. “You’re such a big baby.”

Lando pouts slightly grumbling he is not a big baby before you return to your book. You look back hearing a huff and raise a brow. “Yes?”

“How do you just lay here and read and do nothing? I’m so bored yet too tired to get up.”

You shrug, “I just get really engrossed in my books sometimes I forget to even eat or pee.”

“You what!?” Lando sits up a bit in surprise before laying down and whining at his upset stomach.

“Oh come here.” You start.

You shift and sit up a bit more and reach over and rearrange your nightstand. You move your drinks further back along with your tablet holder before grabbing your TV remote and turning the TV on. You watch Lando lay there for a moment before shifting closer. He tosses and turns before slowly he settles on his stomach letting a soft sigh of relief out. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the Brit nuzzles his face into your stomach before settling down and looking at the TV. Lando flips through some apps and television options before settling on ‘The Hangover’.

Settling back down against the pillows you run your fingers gently through his hair while you go back to your book, the movie becoming background noise for you. This is how you two spend the evening and it’s the best impromptu date and now becomes your go to date.

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 6 (FINAL)

Prev.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: smut (strap-on sex anddd things that go with that)

A/n: ik ya’ll been waiting for this one. Thanku to the anon who requested this special scenario and thanku to the multiple anons who wanted this series in the first place, as well as everyone else who’s been showing shock factor some love 🩷 more fics coming soon.

SHE KISSES YOU like she’s been fantasizing about it for ages, and you can’t help but be turned on at the fact that she probably has. The thought of Paige, legs spread beneath her blanket, hand clamped over her mouth to cover her whimpers as she thinks of you while her hand toys with herself is insane. When you lay on her bed, all you can think of is how many times she must’ve thought of this.

She has a habit of dragging her thumb across your lips and looking into your eyes as if she’s scared to forget what you look like in this moment. Her bedroom is cold but your absolutely dying of heat underneath her body, her hands timidly feeling you while she presses her mouth to yours, tilting her head and letting out little noises.

You relish in how her back slightly arches when your hands meet the skin underneath her shirt, a toned, smooth surface that grows goosebumps as your fingers edge their way under her sports bra. Paige pulls away from kisses with a slowness that urges you to chase after her, but she’s always back for more before you can do so.

“Don’t rush.” She mumbles against your skin. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Horny and aching from need, you reluctantly obey. Her voice is raspy and soft, softer then you’d expected it to be. Paige occasionally pauses above you once your hands begin to kneed her breasts and pull at her nipples.

You open your mouth slightly, allowing her tongue to meet yours. She moves languidly with you, relishing the slight whimpers and noises that leave your mouth. You let your hands leave her tits and cup her face, then one hand tugs at her ponytail. Paige lets out a louder whine at this, and you can’t help but smile. “Baby likes her hair pulled? Never woulda known.” You say with arrogance that you know must feel like a slap to her ego.

“Shut up.” She seethes, her eyes narrowed and tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“You know you can cuss now,” you tilt your head. “since we’re gonna fuck.”

She’s taken aback, eyes wide for a moment as she recalls when she told you she only curses during specific situations. Her lips ghost soft kisses against your jaw before hovering above your ear. “Is that what we’re doing?”

Paige’s knee is nestled tight between your thighs, but you open your legs further as you look into her blue eyes. “How wide do I have to spread before you take the hint?”

Biting her lip, you can almost make out the minuscule “shit” that she murmurs under her breath. She’s truly soaking you in, the way you’re spread out on her bed beneath her, legs open and eyes begging.

“S’ that’s what you want, huh?” She finally says. “I can take a hint.”

Paige gets off of the bed for a moment and you immediately miss her warmth, though it’s replaced with a different feeling when she turns your back to you, and slowly takes her compression long sleeve off. Her back is flexed and muscular beneath her sports bra, which she teasingly pulls over head.

You sit up on the bed in awe, watching as she strips herself bare. You wonder how much it’s turning Paige on, having your eyes stuck on every inch of her body, her broad shoulders and toned arms are enough to make you wet.

And the strap makes your stomach drop.

She adopts a newfound confidence when it’s on her, clearly emasculated by the look on your face as you take the sight of her in.

“Sit.” You say, patting the edge of the bed. She obliges with an unsure look on her face. You slip off the bed and kneel between her legs, placing your hands on her thighs and looking up at the strap, then her face. Paige understands what you want to do.

“Are you sure?”

“Just watch me.” You smile, taking the strap in your hands and licking the tip while keeping your eyes trained on her. She’s fidgety, gripping the sheets behind her as you lick up and now the length before finally putting it in your mouth.

You’re not quite used to the sensation of the plastic in your mouth but you can assume the little make-believe blowjob is having the effect you hoped for, because Paige is biting her lip fervently now as her hands find your head.

The sight of her low eyes and shameless staring while you slowly take her length in your mouth is soaking your panties on it’s own, especially when she begins to buck her hips.

She suddenly begins to let out soft moans, her head thrown back and breathing quickening. There’s something different going on now.

You stop bobbing your head for a moment and hold the strap teasingly on your tongue, and then you can feel it. The quiet noise, the slight sensation. There’s a part of the strap that is inside of Paige and it’s vibrating.

“Don’t stop.” She mumbles, looking at you pleadingly.

“The vibrator not enough?” You tease, parting your mouth with a strap and letting a string of saliva form between your lips and the plastic.

Paige’s grip on your head tightens for a moment, and she jerks herself forward almost involuntarily, probably from the vibrations.

“C’mon baby, please.” She whines. “I needa see you take me in your mouth.”

You shake your head. “I’ll take you in a different way.”

She lays back on the bed now, and you take your time crawling on top of her. She’s absolutely flushed and in awe as you take your shirt and basketball shorts off, leaving you in your sports bra and underwear. You pull your panties to the side achingly slow, revealing to Paige how wet she’s made you.

“Fuuuck.” She mutters, bringing a hand to her face and then both to your hips. You’re hovering carefully above her, letting the tip graze your labia ever so slightly.

“Ready Paige?” You sigh, and she nods her head immediately, guiding you as gently as possible onto her strap, and enjoying every moment as your eyes screw shut and your mouth omits a noise she’s only dreamt of.

It’s slow at first, with her hands helping you bob up and down on her. The sound of your ass clapping against her skin and the slight vibration you can feel is pornographic.

“You take me so- fuck, so well.” She gasps as your pace quickens.

You’re grasping onto her core, her tits, anything you can manage. Although your legs are already beginning to burn you refuse to slow down, it feels too good. Almost as if the strap was truly a part of her. Paige’s moans and your own are filling the room, as well as the occasional slap to your ass from her calloused hands,

You collapse forward onto her, arms caging her head beneath you as your hips continue to grind. You’re face to face now, foreheads touching and breathing each others air.

“Wanted this, uhhg, s’bad Paige.” You whisper weakly to her. “Thought about you all the time. Wanted you to fuck me right there at that restaurant.”

“I would’ve gone under the table,” Paige murmurs back, hands gripping your ass now and helping you fuck yourself silly. “n’ I would’ve eaten you out. Couldn’t even pay attention to what you were saying.”

The thought is enough to drive you wild, especially since you’d had a similar idea at the time. You can imagine Paige pretending to drop something, then not coming back up until you’re writhing in your seat, panties around your ankles.

“Stop.” You cry. “If you keep talking I’m gonna cum, seriously.”

“I wanted to kiss you so bad.” She smirks against your skin, then abruptly flips you over. She’s on top of you now, your back is arched and your face is almost pressed into the sheets. She holds your hands behind you before you can use them to cushion yourself.

Paige is pumping into you now, admiring the sight of your ass pressed flush against her groin. Her hands are holding your wrists tight. “I was gunna kiss you on the street. Then maybe I woulda turned you around like this.”

You can’t even respond anymore, you’re out of breath and crying of pleasure into her bed now that a tense, building feeling is forming in your stomach.

“If Elaine didn’t call would you have let me, ma?” She moans out. “Would you have let me eat it from the back? Or would you have pussied out.”

“Paige.” You cry out against her sheets. “M’ gonna cum, oh my god.”

She doesn’t say anything else, and you know she’s getting close too. Her thrusts are growing sloppier and she’s moaning more then she’s talking, whatever words leave her mouth are impossible to understand through the exhaustion and sheer sound of sex.

You and her climax almost in unison, it’s the most relieving thing you’ve felt in a long time, both sexually and mentally. When Paige slumps down on the bed beside you, hurriedly taking the strap off and pressing her warmth to your back you know your problems with her are over.

“(Name).” She mumbles. “You good, baby?”

“Mmhm, yeah.” You huff out, smiling as she laughs. You can feel her toying with your hair.

“M’sorry.” She says quietly.

You turn around now to face her. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” She says, matter o fact. “M’sorry I was such a dick to you. sorry I lied about Elaine. M’sorry I didn’t eat you out when I had the chance.”

You chuckle at the last part, and let your hand cup her face fondly. “We’re good, P. And you can eat me out whenever you like.”

The two of you laugh together, legs entwined and eyes connected by some sort of invisible beam of comfort and affection. She’s smiling in a way you’ve only seen glimpses of, and it’s warming your soul.

“You’re leaving.” She says, laughter fading.

“What?”

“You’re leaving Storrs in a couple more days.”

You stare into her eyes for a moment. Her expression is disappointed and you know yours probably is too. You can’t be in Storrs longer then you have planned, but you want to stay.

“Come visit me.” You finally say. “Come to California n’ stay with me.”

“Now?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Whenever.” You smile. “We have the summer. I better see you.”

Paige places a soft kiss on your lips. “You will ma, trust me.”

“What’d you say on that live again?” You ask her in between kisses. “That I was boring? Had no shock factor?”

“Don’t start.” Paige rolls her eyes, poking your cheek.

“You, my girl, have enough shock factor for a lifetime.”

[evergone]

Star-Crossed Lovers

Rindou Haitani x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (Allusions to sex, drinking), references to underage drinking (I do not condone or promote these behaviours), angst to fluff

Description: Everyone knows that when Rindou and the reader break up, they always end up back together, but this time something feels off.

You and Rindou broke up every other week.

When people asked how long you’d been together, you’d argue for hours on end about which break-ups counted and which didn’t. You liked to say you’d been together five years — ignoring the break-ups that occurred in the middle. Rindou, on the other hand, was adamant that every little break-up counted.

Yes, that included the time you broke up with him because he wouldn’t let you buy two of the same dress just in case something happened to the first one. It included the time he broke up with you because you absolutely demolished him in Monopoly. It included the time you broke up with him because he didn’t come home for five days straight. It included the time he broke up with you because he didn’t want to see you get deep enough into his gang business that you couldn’t get out.

So, after five years of dating — or three weeks, by Rindou’s standards — it became relatively obvious to everyone including yourselves that no little issue could actually spell the end of your relationship. The two of you were invariably intertwined. Star-crossed. At any given point in time, the most important person to you was him, and to him was you. There was nothing, truly nothing, that you couldn’t overcome together.

Except this break-up was different.

You could taste it in the air. Bitter. Empty. Soulless. There was hatred there, between you and Rindou, and it seemed that star-crossed lovers were truly just a thing of fiction.

It started out as just a petty argument. You had pointed out an engagement ring at the local jewellery store that you thought was just the most gorgeous thing in the world. It was vintage, from the mid-nineteen-twenties, and it was perfectly your size. You suggested, only half-jokingly, that he buy it and keep it in his pocket for the right time. Afterall, you were twenty and neither of you were getting any younger. But for some reason, some stupid, stupid reason, he completely freaked out.

“I’m not ready for that, Y/n!” Rindou’s head whipped around so his cold, violet gaze bore holes right through you. “How am I even supposed to know you’re the right person for me?”

The very same eyes that had just sent a chill through your entire body then betrayed his composure. Like a mirror struck by bad luck, they shattered, softened, and tried to reason with you wordlessly.

“We’ve been together five years and you don’t know if you want to marry me one day?” You asked him, both furious and heart-broken.

“Three weeks,” he said. Muscle memory. That was always his response to the whole ‘five years’ accusation, it was supposed to be funny, but in the moment it reeked of this sense that he was sick of you — ashamed of you, even.

Rightfully, you stormed out of the store, but he was hot on your heel, pleading with you to just stop and listen to him. By the time you had your keys in the lock of the driver’s door to your car, he was practically on his knees. It was a mistake, he didn’t mean anything by it, you had to understand that he was just so caught off-guard!

“Caught off-guard?” You scoffed, “How could you be caught off-guard when we’ve been together this long?”

“We break up so often, Y/n, I just didn’t think…” He didn’t know what to say, or how to justify his reaction. Rindou knew that at some point in your lives the two of you would probably be married, but he hadn’t really thought too seriously about it.

You rolled your eyes, “Take your brother, and get out of my house.”

For the next month, Rindou and his brother, Ran, crashed at Madarame’s. Ran had been whining the entire time about how much of a downgrade their living situation was since Madarame’s apartment stunk of his horrible cologne, and none of them were as good at cooking as you. You’d received about a dozen phone calls a week from him, each one begging you to either forgive Rindou, or at the very least, drop a meal off for them.

“We aren’t friends anymore, Ran, Rindou has ruined everything. Don’t call me again,” you told him eventually.

Everyone was feeling the effects of the break-up. Gang violence in Roppongi was at an all-time-high because Rindou was beating so many people up just to expel as much of the anger as he could. In meetings with the rest of Rokuhara Tandai, he was hardly focused, and would walk out having no idea what had just been discussed.

Rindou’s friends had tried in vain to convince him that this break-up was just the same as all the others — that the two of you would be back together in no time — but even they weren’t sure it was true. The days were getting longer, they were being drawn out into an agonising picture of the proverbial end, four horsemen and all, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that you weren’t interested in getting back together with him. It had just been so long.

It was unsettling to Rindou when he saw you for the first time since the day he moved out of your house. You didn’t notice him as he took in the dark semicircles under your tired eyes, and the slight limp you were carrying yourself with, and he was glad you didn’t. He could tell you hated him — he could feel the hatred oozing out of your pores and spreading all across the grocery store you were shopping in. There was no chance of you ever getting back together. He had just fucked up way too badly.

The past five weeks had been hell for you.

You had sprained your ankle really badly when you kicked your couch violently only moments after throwing all Rindou and Ran’s things at them from your front porch. Daily living had become far too difficult to handle on your own. The shelves in your kitchen were always too high to reach, so Rindou would grab things from them for you, but with him gone you had to maneuver yourself onto the counter with your one good leg and pray to God that you wouldn’t fall. The doctor had told you not to drive for as long as it took to get full rotation back in your ankle, so you were having to walk everywhere. You’d been late to work almost every day.

Despite everything, it would’ve been at least helpful to have Rindou around. Whenever something like this would happen to you, he was always there. Once, when you broke up after he got put in juvie, and you were having a rough time adjusting, he sent some of his friends (goons) to help you cook, and clean, and stay on top of your homework. You sighed at how nice it would’ve been to have that kind of support.

Between the constant calls from Ran, you’d also spoken to Madarame and Kakucho on the matter. Madarame had called before he realised the severity of the break-up to ask when you’d be “having your boys home” because he was sick of not being able to bring girls back to his house. Kakucho, on the other hand, had shown up at your door in his Rokuhara Tandai uniform, disrespecting a rule you had put in place that they weren’t to bring their gang affiliations anywhere near your house.

“Walk with me,” he ordered, and ignored you as you started to preach about how he had no right to speak to you that way. Together, you walked silently through the city, your eyes stuck to the concrete rivers you navigated through.

“Where are we going?” You asked him eventually, bored of the awkwardness and of being told off by some kid.

“Whatever’s happened, you need to forgive him,” Kakucho said, “You know you’re going to anyway, so I really don’t understand what all this mess is about.”

You scoffed, “He hasn’t apologised.” He frowned, so you continued, “Kakucho, he hasn’t so much as called me! I’m terrified that I overreacted, or that I didn’t try hard enough to resolve it… I - I really don’t know what to do. I think he hates me.”

When Kakucho didn’t say anything in return, you left him in the middle of Roppongi by himself, and went home to drown your sorrows in the beers still left in the fridge.

The alcohol relieved some of the pressure of the tense break-up, and that was more than a good enough reason for you to decide to get drunk every night for the next three days. Some of your friends from high school invited you out clubbing that Thursday, and you hadn’t the mind to refuse them. So, you got dressed up in your shortest black dress, and your best pair of heels (you had to redo your makeup after remembering they were a birthday gift from Rindou), and you skipped the line at a club owned by an acquaintance of Mocchi’s.

Inside, you were passed shots by every guy who managed to get within a one-metre radius of you. Nothing like that had happened to you in so long since it was just common knowledge through Roppongi that you more or less belonged to Rindou. You supposed that everyone knew that you were completely, definitely single for the first time in five years, and were taking the opportunity presented to them.

As you threw back another shot of fireball, cringing at the taste, your arm was grabbed by an all-too-familiar hand. Violet eyes made contact with yours, and a spark of electric panic — or perhaps it was passion — jolted through you until you took in the rest of the person’s appearance and realised it was not, in fact, Rindou, but Ran.

“Y/n!” He shouted over the ear-destroying-ly loud music, but you couldn’t tell whether you were actually hearing him or just reading his lips. He was grinning with delight. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you here to see Rindou?”

You bit your lip and frowned as you stretched your neck to search behind Ran, “Is he here?” You asked.

“Yeah, duh, we always come here. I’m starting to worry that you won’t get back together at all, the rate this is going!” Ran chuckled, but you just stared at him, mortified, and stole the wallet from his pocket. “Wait — Hey!”

Turning back to the bar, you ordered another three shots with Ran’s card, and downed them all as fast as possible. By the time you were done, your eyes were beginning to water, and you could feel the last three, or four, or maybe it was eight shots starting to settle in.

“Oh… Princess… Come, let’s sit down somewhere,” he cooed and you tried to scrunch your nose at the nickname, but you were falling way too far and way too fast into the alcohol spiral to have full control of your facial muscles.

Ran carried your stumbling form to a circular booth on the side of the dance floor, and slid you through to the back, resting your head on someone’s shoulder to your right. He rubbed circles on your arm as a couple tears escaped the pool at the bottom of your eyes. Above you, you could vaguely hear the owner of the shoulder trying to quietly yell at Ran, so you pulled your head off of him to give him some space. As you did just that, you caught a glimpse of the shoulder-owner in question.

“Rindou?” You gasped, your voice so loud it was clear over the music.

A glance back at Ran who was sitting there with a shit-eating grin, then you were right back to looking at Rindou. His pupils were just as large as yours, and his eyes open so wide that his irises were just spots of violet in an ocean of white. His blue and blond hair was so gracefully framing his cheeks, neck, and collarbone that you thought you might faint just at the sight, and he was wearing an old Adidas tee that sat perfectly on his body.

“Y/n,” Rindou breathed. He reached a hand out towards you, and you let him stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“You didn’t call,” you pouted, and your tears started to pour down over his fingers.

Rindou signalled that it was time for the other people in the booth to leave, and they did so with an ounce of hesitance. Boys were always more nosy than they were given credit for, especially the ones Rindou was friends with.

“I thought you hated me,” said Rindou in a sombre tone.

The only thing keeping your head from rolling backwards was his hand holding you up, and you were glad for it, as it gave you the visibility to squint at him. After the many, many, many times you had taken him back, how could he possibly think that one fight about a possible marriage would make you hate him? You were angry, sure, but only for a couple days. It had softened to sadness so quickly that you’d given yourself whiplash.

You reminded him of a half-dozen of the past break-ups. The time he threw you into a puddle of mud right before a school assembly, the time he joked about sleeping with one of your closest friends, the time he forgot to get you a birthday present, and all the others. He was prone to mistakes, but he always learnt from them. He was always trying so hard to do right by you. And you always took him back.

“I could never hate you, you’re the most important person in my life, Rindou.” His face lit up. “When you didn’t call me immediately, I thought I’d completely overreacted and pushed you away! I thought you hated me.”

For every break-up caused by Rindou, another had been caused by you, you were a dysfunctional couple like that, and both of you always resorted to the extremities rather than just sitting down and talking about your emotions. When you were twelve, you misplaced the study notes for the maths test he had the next week; when you were fifteen, you would flirt with adults outside of liquor stores to get them to buy you drinks; when you were seventeen, you stood him up on your anniversary. He broke up with you each time, and each time you always ended up back together.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I do want to marry you one day,” Rindou explained.

You slipped your hand under his, and shooed him away from your face, “You had a point, though.” He tilted his head in confusion. “We break up all the time. We’re not exactly stable enough to be thinking of marriage… In truth, I think we’re a bad couple. Toxic, even.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve been together five years!” He said with a mix of anger and light humour.

“We’re not even together right now, Rin,” you told him matter-of-factly, though your words had slurred together a little, taking much of the authority out of them.

“Take me back, then,” he suggested, but you shook your head and then gagged at the motion.

Rindou helped you up and out of the club, and the two of you sat on the side of the building, feeling the vibrations of the music beating through your bodies. The streets were busy with people, but it was so quiet in comparison to what the last few hours had been for you that you revelled in it like silence. While you vomited a couple times (you got a bit of it on one of your heels which prompted you to vomit once more), Rindou held your hair back.

Once you were finished, you leaned against him, and his hand wrapped around your waist to hold on to you so securely that you could tell he was scared it would be the last time he ever got the chance to do so. You looked up at the sky, but the lights of the city were so bright that there were no stars up there to guide you.

“Do you think we’re meant to be together?” You asked Rindou, “Like, do you think that, in another universe or timeline or whatever, we’d be together as well?”

He took a deep breath in, “All I know is that if I got the chance to live my life all over again, I would choose to do it all the same.”

“You love your life that much?” You smiled softly.

“I love you that much.”

In a predictable turn of events, you would find yourself waking up in your bed the next morning, Rindou by your side. Your house would be full of his and his brother’s things by day’s end, with a letter of gratitude placed in your mailbox by Madarame, and the very ring that had caused the whole mess sitting on your breakfast bar. You would ask your boyfriend to explain himself, and he’d shrug and reply that it was just a promise. He was going to put it somewhere safe, and one day, when the two of you had been break-up-free for a sufficient amount of time, you’d get the chance to wear it.

But in that moment outside the club, you didn’t much care to think how your morning would be. The breeze was cold, but you could taste the air, and it tasted like bliss.