#which of course I’ve neglected to no end

[watchyourbuck]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday!💗

tagged by the lovelies @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @fionaswhvre & @your-catfish-friend (go read their works if you haven’t!!)

omg finally getting back to writing after two horrifying academic weeks lmao im happy to be back anyway enjoy more of the murder husbands fic aka ‘Knives to the chest (and into my heart)’ 🏃🏽‍♀️

Buck smeared the blood on Eddie’s chin, taking his thumb to his own mouth and sucking. “You look like sex.”

Eddie’s chest puffed up, feeling himself harden on his pants. Again. “We should fuck, then.”

It’s was an invitation, but it had a twinge of need. Buck pushed himself off the rusty counter, towering over his lover. At this time of night, the one flicking light on their basement was enough to keep him awake, although he hadn’t slept in days. “Are you asking or are you telling me?”

Eddie took a step, pulling the dagger out of his back pocket swiftly. Buck was talented, but he was skilled. He pressed it to Buck’s neck, prompting a smirk out of him. “I don’t believe I ask much of anything these days, I just say what I want and I get it.”

“And what is it, then?” he teased, kicking Eddie’s ankle with the heel of his right foot, so he’d fall a few centimeters shorter. “What is it you want?”

For the first time in months, Eddie looked hesitant, his gaze faltering. After everything they had done, Buck couldn’t imagine nor fathom a thing he’d be embarrassed to request.

“I want you to fuck me with your gun.”

Buck’s eyes glimmered.

Tags! @housewifebuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @eddiediaztho @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @butraura @try-set-me-on-fire @eowon @buckleyobsessed @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @cowboy-buck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @911-on-abc (and anyone else who’d like to participate✨)

Tags for readers @mattsire @juliaor @dancerfourlife98 @idealuk @clairelejohnson @made-ofmemories (let me know if you wish to be removed from the tag list!)

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; four

wc ; 2114 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect, panic attacks

prologue, one, two, three, four, tbc..

The rain outside casted a shadow of gloom over the morose city, the rhythmic pat-pat-pat on the windows creating an uncomfortable backdrop to your inner thoughts. Your head was resting in your hands, fingers scrunching at the edge of your scalp, tangling your hair with such force it felt like your mind was being split in two.

The pain was nothing compared to the pounding of your heart, ricocheting so loud that you felt it in your shoulders, in your fingertips – in each cell of your body.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Those three words echoed in your mind like a beat rebounding off a drum, what is going on? This is–..

When you miraculously turned back in time, you naively believed it would be easy – you’d silently leave without fuss, everything would progress as it should and you’d live life away from the looming Manor they called home. 

So why, why does it feel like every time you try to leave, someone’s there holding their hand on your neck. Why? Why can’t you just leave? It was so easy before, you could leave the Manor, disappear for days on end and nobody would notice, now it feels like someone is always hovering around.

Every time you leave your room, every time you try – they’re there! Why? What caused this sudden shift? You didn’t do anything drastic. So why? What changed? You’d spent years of your pathetic life scrambling for any sort of attention. For them. What secret trick have you pulled to put yourself in their spotlight? And why now?!

“Fuck.” You grumble, crumpling into yourself pitifully. There is absolutely no light at the end of this stupid tunnel. One of those stupid circus clowns is always there to stand before the small glimmers of hopes that shine through, much like the sun through a window. They curtain the light, under the pretense of protecting you from the sun’s burns, but how can you live without the sun’s warmth?

The rain outside grew more intense as you spiral, a testimony to the raging shit-show inside you. There is– one option. An option you loathe to think about. Bothering her would be.. It’s not something you’d like. You’d promised yourself – all that time ago, that you would never look her in the eyes, that you’d never speak a word to her. For her sake, not your own.

It’d be selfish, you really, really shouldn’t. But still, as a precaution, you open up your night stand, reaching to the very, very bottom to pick out a letter. A letter with an address and a phone number. Just in case.

The rain doesn’t seem to be stopping, which is a shame – you’ve always hated the rain.

“What is wrong with you?” A voice calls out, and you just narrowly avoid screaming. You tilt your head with much effort, your eyes zeroing in on Damian. Of course, it’s like a fucking roster. You’re not even safe in your own room.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You respond curtly, resting your head in your hands once more. You can’t stand looking at him. You can’t stand him. You can’t stand his stupid expression, always so prideful. Always so above you. You hate him.

“Why are you acting like this? You’re a Wayne, stop being so… pathetic.” You let out a sharp laugh at his words. Again, a few years ago, those words would’ve filled you with immense joy – enough to power yourself through the loneliness that plagued your whole being. But you’re not that pathetic waste of space, ghosting through the Manor. You’re just [Name],

“I don’t know what you mean.” You repeat, not picking up your head as you sigh. The rain is heavy, you really hate rain. “I’ve always been pathetic, right?”

You can’t see Damian, but you feel the air in the room shift. It’s strange, everything feels surreal. You almost have half a nerve to–

“Why are you trying to leave?”

His voice sounds weird, he sounds concerned. That’s impossible, you’re speaking to Damian. The boy who’s refused to acknowledge you as his sibling, the one who made it very clear what he thought of you. You raise your head once more to meet his eyes. 

He looks young. Younger than you’ve ever seen him look. 

“Why does it matter to you, this is what you’ve always wanted right?” Your hands begin to tremble, why are you trembling? You’re not scared. You’re– You’re angry. The fearful knot in your stomach frays, anger burning the rope until it tightens around your organs like a springtrap. “You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, don’t try to take the high road now.” “[Name]--”

“I’ve spent my whole life, chasing like a fucking stray for something – anything. Now you wanna act concerned? I’m fucking sick of this. I’m sick of you– I’m sick of everything!” Words were spilling out before you could catch them, the raindrops on the window fueling your anger. The patting making your head fucking pound, you wanted to rip your filthy mind out – everything was loud, too loud.

“Calm down, you’re acting–” 

“Out of everyone in this house, I hate you the most.”

“Huh?” Damian’s voice was soft, quiet – barely audible over the relentless pounding of the rain.

“However much you might hate me, I hate you a hundred, no, a thousand times more.” 

You pushed past him, your anger exploding inside your very core. Your blood was rushing through your veins, squeezing until it threatened to blow. If you had half the mind to look back, you’d see the expression on his face.

The walls in the Manor had never felt so looming, so large. It felt like each painting was looking at you, mocking you. The eyes of the soulless characters locked on your form as you marched down the halls.

You had no destination, no goal, but you needed to get out. Each wall was closing in, the roof threatening to collapse – to swallow you whole, to crush you under it’s unforgiving weight. Would that be better? Would you be happier under the sweet mercy of death?

Well, you’re not willing to find out. You’re not that gone, yet.

You could barely register anything as you stormed out the Manor, you heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as you walked. 

The moment the cold rain hit your skin, you ran. Your legs moving before your brain could process it. The downpour soaked you. Your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You weren’t wearing a coat, you had some shitty shoes that you had on from earlier, your whole body felt like it was aflame.

And then you stopped. Your frustration wore off leaving only the ache in your body behind. Your lungs were being squeezed against your ribs, air clawing against the sensitive flesh leaving you breathless. Your legs were shaking, your bones too weak to hold you as you slump against a tree.

Your body hit the cold, wet ground below you. Your head falls on your knees as you cradle yourself. Curse Bruce for living in some fancy ass Manor, away from the rest of Gotham like some fancy jackass. Curse him for being a billionaire. From behind the tree you had slumped yourself on, you could hear some lingering paparazzi – eager for some sort of scoop.

It’d be funny if you jumped out and gave them a real scoop. But you’re too caught up in your own shit for any scandals.

“I really hate the rain.” You mumble, a warm raindrop falling from your eyes. Strange, isn’t rain supposed to be wet? Whatever. 

You felt pathetic. So, truly pathetic. You’d ran away like some brat having a tantrum. Whatever, it’s not like anyone would notice. Nobody ever noticed, that was how life was, how it’d always be. You were destined to be sidelined forever, and you’d finally grown fine with that. So why? 

Your ass was muddy, you were wet, cold, sad – this scenario felt oddly reminiscent, reminiscent of a time before all the neglect, before loneliness was your only companion.

“Your name is [Name]?” A deep voice asked, his tone kind, patient as he looked at you.

Rain stuck to your small form as you looked up at him, your supposed father. The man you’d seen on TV everyday, he was looking at you – his eyes full of kindness that felt unfamiliar. But–

“Where is my mom?” Your voice was hoarse, quiet – afraid. The blooming pain in your head seemed to dull under the rain’s touch, blood seeping down your forehead, dripping down your nose – mingling with the heavy precipitation. The lights from the blaring sirens were shadowed by the man before you, the man who was looking down at you with something akin to pity. 

The teddy bear in your hands was unsalvageable. Between the missing eye, limbs, and now the rain that had drenched it. It was a hard thrust away from falling apart, but it rested in your palms nonetheless. Your fingers curling into the flat, synthetic fur as though it were your only tether to reality.

He slowly kneeled down before you, reaching eye-to-eye before extending his hand. “My name is Bruce, I’ll take care of you and your mother, I promise.” He smiled, he looked so much more human now, he was no longer an untouchable figure, no longer would you have to touch the warm screen of your TV, quietly pleading for him to save you. He was looking at you now, and he’d never look away.

You took his hand.

“Fuck this.” You huff, standing up with way too much effort, your joints still aching because of your little escapade. You weren’t going to sit around and wait for him to hold your hand again, you weren’t going to have him sign anything or give you anything – why should you rely on him? He’s given you nothing. You owe him nothing.

Your wet hand instinctively goes to your pocket, taking out the card with the address. The heavy downpour immediately enveloped the laminated card. Your throat felt heavy immediately as you reread the words on it, soaking in each letter. Swallowing back your nausea, you begin running again – this time, with a purpose.

It was rare for Bruce to lose his composure, but as he stared into your empty room – he felt his control fraying. 

“You’re sure they’re not hiding somewhere else?” He managed to keep his voice calm, despite the pounding of his heart. His eyes scanned your room. So small, he really needs to upgrade it.

“No, Master Bruce, they.. can’t be found anywhere else.” Alfred said, his expression uncharacteristically tense as he stared at the black curls at the back of Bruce’s head. 

Bruce was beginning to feel a sense of dread come upon him.

When Damian came into his study, looking strangely panicked – that was strike one, the moment your name left the young boy’s mouth, Bruce was up and practically sprinting to your room. Strike two.

And strike three was the lack of you in your space. The lack of you in the Manor. He had everyone look around, check every nook and cranny, but you were nowhere to be found. He had told you not to go out without telling him. 

But it’s fine, he is the world’s greatest detective. No need to panic.

Taking a tentative step forward, Bruce took a moment to absorb your space, your personality. The posters on the walls, the trinkets littering your shelves, the small imperfections that discerned you.

And then his eyes fell upon it, your teddy bear. “I thought they threw this out.” Bruce mumbled, his eyes flashing to that rainy day when he had met your cold eyes, eyes too haunted to belong to a child. How could he let that child leave when he had promised to take care of you? You and your mother.

Alarm bells rang in his mind, distantly, he could hear Tim and Cass theorise your where-a-bouts. But–

“Alfred, do you remember where we sent her?” Bruce asked slowly, picking up the teddy bear gently – taking in the ruined toy, a testament to the child you were. To the child you are, his thumb running over the messy stitch marks, no doubt done by you. You had the money of Bruce Wayne at your disposal yet you insisted on keeping this trash? The reminder of your impoverished days? He couldn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never be able to understand you.

Not unless he had an actual conversation, as father and child.

“..Yes, I shall send you the details.” Alfred asked after a pause, his eyes strangely distant as he looked at the window, at the rain droplets racing down. “Please, Master Bruce, be swift.”

sorry for neglecting yall i was tryna make the book immersive ;3

dookie chapter because i am simultaniously studying for my health and social exam

tags; (asked to be added thru dms)

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @meepmoopbadabeepboop @buckturd @eloriis @xoxossam @verypersonaldazzel @froggy-voidd @shycreatorreview @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @devotedlyshamelessdetective @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

ill get around to adding everyone to the taglist .

[fancyfeathers]

Hey Fancy! Apologies if this is a wee bit long but it’s a random platonic yandere Batfam idea I’ve had for a long time. Adopted daughter who becomes an investigative journalist. (With Outlast crossover)

Darling was a product of one of Bruce’s affairs and he never really cared, he paid child support and that’s about it. Darling didn’t care as she and her mother were happy together until they weren’t. Darling’s mother starts to have to work longer hours, coming back more and more hollow until there’s nothing left but her corpse. Darling had a gut feeling her mom died because her mom’s boss was cutting corners in safety at some chemical plant and forcing long hours on workers. 

Of course darling has to go to her father’s house now and live with him (I imagine she was adopted a year before Jason died) after a week she’s asked if she wants to become Robin to which she refuses. She wants to fight the criminals who act as altruists, such as corrupt leaders and politicians, companies who have blood on their hands but hide it, because that’s the hero who could save her mom. Bruce accepts this but the family just seems to forget her. Not out of maliciousness, except for Damien, they just don’t have time for a non-vigilante sibling. She feels alone and when Tim and then Damien are welcomed into the family they neglect her too. Damien even mocks her for being useless. The only family she had there is Alfred, as he made sure to care for darling whenever s he could. 

When darling turns 18, she gets out of that house and goes to a university to study journalism. She becomes an investigative journalist who gained her reputation for going deep into the depths of corruption’s depravity and meets this one dude named Miles Upshur who she becomes partners with as they both are freelance journalists because they don’t censor the truth. They get an email one day telling them about messed up things happening at Mount Massive asylum.

They both go and cue the events of the game Outlast and Outlast Whistleblower. I’m not sure if you are comfortable with the contents of those games so I summarize it by saying the patients were being experimented on and broke free causing Miles to get trapped in the asylum with no way to fight back. He only has places to hide and a camera with night vision that drains his batteries. He gets very injured and Whistleblower is the same concept as it’s the same place but from the perspective of the one who sent the email. I imagine the darling was somehow separated from miles but ended up getting out of there with the whistleblower.

She took the footage and instead of letting the whistleblower release it, as the company begging the asylum would hunt him and his wife and kids down, she would be the one as her reputation precedes her. But after dropping the whistleblower off at his home she has no choice but to go to her old one, cause if the company couldn’t ruin her reputation, could just silence her like they did with everyone else. The batfam is going to be very confused when a freshly traumatized, bloody,and bruised darling shows up on their front porch, clutching camcorders to her chest like a lifeline. Who knows, they might just not let her out if this is how she ends up after being on her own.

again really sorry if this is weird or too long! It’s just been brewing in my brain and I needed to share it

God it’s been forever since I played Outlast, I don’t remember everything about the game cause I was screaming and crying for the most part and I literally could only watch Whistleblower and had to skip some stuff

This might not be entirely game accurate cause it has been a hot minute but I will do my best

I do not think Bruce would be exactly neglectful especially since this is yandere content and obsession starts when they normally meet their darling, like a root that takes hold and begins to grow after certain events. I imagine that her mom did not want her daughter to meet Bruce cause she thought he would not be a good influence, the whole billionaire playboy persona. She raised her daughter on her own until her death, her daughter can remember sitting in the hospital when the doctor told her that she was dead, died of radium poisoning, her body decaying while she was still alive.

She remembers sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting after the staff called her biological father to pick her up, a nurse sitting with her. She knew why her mother did not want her to meet her, but her mother was wrong to an extent. She honestly expected someone like Alfred to pick her up, who she knew because he would meet with her mother for fund related affairs since she did not want her daughter knowing her father…

But Bruce was the one who picked her up, in fact he practically came running when he got the call from the hospital when he was at a gala.

When Bruce came into the hospital waiting room, he kneeled down to her level and took her little hands in his, he felt so sorry for not knowing, he could have helped, but for now what he can tell her is…

“Everything will be okay, I’ll keep you safe.”

Bruce is not intentionally neglectful, he really does try his best, but between being Batman and handling his daily affairs as Bruce Wayne he just does not have the time besides to have meals with her. He does keep her safe, puts a tracker in her bag or jacket in case anything goes wrong, but as if something will go wrong while she is playing soccer after school.

Dick is also probably very busy as well to give her much attention but he is pretty similar to Bruce in the way that he cares but he just does not have the time to now that he is Nightwing. He occasionally takes her out to do things, and he apologizes for not being able to spend more time with her, but he is just so busy.

Her and Jason are probably the closest, he is her big brother in his eyes. He helps her transition into her new home the most, making pillow forts, playing video games, taking her out to play in the snow. Then one morning she comes downstairs to see Alfred looking so solemn and Bruce sitting in an armchair in the living room, his head in his hands and still in the Batman suit, but no sign of Jason…

“Dad?”

She knows something is wrong so she hugs Bruce and it is the first time she sees him cry, he hugs her back, as if scared to let her go… but that is because he is.

“Oh sweetheart… I am so sorry.”

He was going to ask her to be a Robin one day, Jason would not have the mantle forever since after all Dick didn’t, but now he can’t stand the idea of loosing her, so he’ll keep her safe, even if that means keeping her at an arms length.

I think after Jason’s death he would probably send her to boarding school in a safer city like Metropolis or boarding school in a small town with next to no crime rate. It breaks his heart to send her away like that, but it is what keeps her alive. She comes home on the holidays and breaks but there is just an aura about the house now that Jason is gone, a constant state of sadness and as if a hand is holding onto her, which is fair because when she is home she isn’t allowed off of the manor grounds, Gotham is just too dangerous. That doesn’t mean they make more time for her, no her summers and holidays are just as lonely as they were before, only this time she is isolated from the outside world and left lonely by her own family.

Tim is similar to Dick in the way that he feels bad but does not make much of an effort to spend more time with her, even less so than Dick does. He only texts her every now and then so show he somewhat cares and talks with her at family meals, but that’s it.

Then there is Damian, she cannot stand him. She knows he grew up entitled in the League of Assassins but he cannot even pretend to be nice. He talks to her as if she is beneath him, despite the fact that when he is brought into the manor she is a senior in high school.

“No wonder you never became Robin, why would father let the most useless child even-“

“Damian, that is enough!”

Luckily Bruce or Alfred normally intervenes and defuses the situation before Damian says something too extreme.

Then she graduates high school and moves on to university, which Bruce pays for in full without hesitation. It is there in university that she meets her partner in crime, Miles Upshur. They are practically joined at the hip and then when that first finals come around and their project is to do a mock investigation and article and they get to choose a topic to do it on and then Miles asked her…

“Hey, what do ya want to do this on? Lexcorp? Abuse in the ballet industry? Maybe-“

“The radium scandal in the Gotham City Chemical Plant.”

“That’s oddly specific, why?”

“It’s how my mom died.”

And that’s how everything started with their chosen path of investigation. They graduate and the two of them even get photos in their graduate robes and degrees together. Her family comes, which an empty seat to honor Jason, despite him watching from a back doorway, she does not need to know what happened to him in the Lazarus Pit and he certainly won’t be caught dead with Bruce at the time.

Bruce is only okay with her going into journalism because he thinks she’ll be working behind a desk at a paper, not what her and Miles plan on doing…

If he knew he certainly would not be happy and try to find a way to interfere…

But sadly he never remembered to ask exactly what she was going to do.

Her and Miles have done a number of stories together, after the first five or so Bruce found out the kind of work she was doing and repeatedly called her to try to talk her out of it, but she would ignore his calls every time.

It was just supposed to be another job, not whatever this was…

They got an email from an anonymous worker, asking to investigate the Murkoff Corporation and their actions at Mount Massive Asylum. The two even joked during their car ride over to the asylum, laughing about stories she shared about her life at the manor and their old college days, they had no idea what they would find inside.

The asylum even looked messed up from the outside, but the inside was a thousand times worse…

Patients who were experimented on, and now they were inhuman and trying to kill, disassemble, mutilate them, you get the idea…

An insane priest to put it lightly…

Dead bodies all over, murdered in horrible ways…

Everyone left alive in there was less than human, insane, or just about to go insane…

And when I say insane, I mean Joker levels of insane.

They get separated along the way, which is good for her, but not so good for Miles.

She makes it out alive thanks to their anonymous source who sent them the email in the first place, Waylon Park who is a software engineer. The two escape together and due to her shock she can’t remember much until long after she left Waylon at his home and she is pulled over at a rest stop half way between Lake County, Colorado and Gotham City, New Jersey, way to exhausted to continue on. She reaches for her phone and finally calls Bruce back.

“D-dad… are you there?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“S-so much… I want to go home… please I…”

She passes out from exhaustion while on the phone…

But luckily, do you remember what I said about Bruce putting trackers on her things? He never stopped when she was an adult.

When she wakes up she is back home in the manor, in her old room. She is laying flat on her back with everyone around her, even Damian and…

“Jason?”

“Ya… I’m here, lovebug. Just rest, you certainly need it.”

“Need it? For fucks sake she is missing a finger!”

“Dick, shut up-“

Bruce yells them to shut up and he holds her bandaged and stitched hand in his…

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

She only points to the camera in her things as asks them not to play it in front of her. They all watch it together in the Batcave before patrol and…

“Oh my god.”

It is worse than what the Joker did to Jason.

When she finally recovers and is going to write the story and-

No she is not allowed to, Bruce will handle the situation, most likely bringing it to the attention of the Justice League.

In fact she is not allowed to write another story again, she is not leaving the manor again. She is not a hero, she is just a reporter, and Jason is unable to fully move on after what happened to him so how well will she fair out in the real world in her fragile mental state? What if something happens that triggers those memories? They are not letting her take that risk.

Most days she is kept in her room, a controlled environment to make her feel safe. Then most nights one of her brothers or Bruce sleeps beside her in bed after patrols in case nightmare come up and she wakes up screaming. If her mental state get too bad they’ll sedate her so at least her mind is calm and she is not getting flashbacks. Bruce eventually gets her a therapist to work through what happened to her so at least she can have some what of a normal life after what happened…

Well as normal as you can get when you are locked inside for the rest of your life.

[candy-rat]

☀️ˏˋ°•*⁀➷✧Puppy Love✧

♡ Percy Jackson x Fem!Apollo Reader

♥︎ Summary: you attempt to teach the cute boy you may or may not have some feelings for how to better work a bow and arrow. || Percy blurb!

☆ Warnings: None!

(ofc i know the relations between Apollo, Zeus, And Poseidon but the readers relation w Percy and the reader is the same w him and annabeth so use that info as u must) 

★ A/N:  I’ve only ever read the first and a bit of the second book + the two movies so this is based off the new series(Walker Scobell) + plus I have the BIGGEST crush on Walker Scobell.

♪ Credits: Ty Bunny’s RPH for the divider<3

+Barely Proof read

It was another sunny day at Camp Half-Blood, kids either chasing each other around or actually putting effort to train and what nots.

Surprisingly the archery field was as empty as ever, which is why you find yourself here.

As the daughter of Apollo you tend to neglect your gift of archery rather finding yourself in simple socialization, but today you thought differently.

Your dad would be proud, wouldn’t he?

As you were in the middle of your archery session you swore you heard the sound of bushes rustling.

The sudden noise caused you to turn around, trying to identify where the noise was coming from.

You were met with the sight of a boy.

Not just any boy.

Percy Jackson.

With earlier memory you can recollect, the boy was definitely not the best with a bow and arrow, so why would he be here?

“Uh, hi” the boy spoke up.

“Oh uh, hi?” You responded in a confused yet optimistic tone.

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

You’ve seen the boy on multiple other occasions, you never really talked to him before.

To be honest with yourself, you probably had the slightest crush on the boy.

The tiniest one of course, you barely knew him.

“So, do you need something? Or?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Uh yeah I did, yeah.” He replied with a slight crack in his voice.

Another moment of silence.

“Uhm, what do you need, uh Percy was it?” You questioned.

You didn’t need to ask, of course you knew his name.

It’s not creepy, word just gets around you know?

“Yeah uh that- that’s my name, you’re (Name) right? Daughter of Apollo?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s me.” You replied.

“You’re like really good at archery right?” He asked once more.

“You could say that, being the daughter of Apollo kinda you know comes with it, but my older siblings are definitely better.” You confirmed.

“Well I was uh wondering-“ he responded.

“Mhm?” You simply hummed in reply.

“If you could, i don’t know uh teach me how to get better at archery?” He finally let out.

You looked at your bow and back at Percy.

You wonder exactly why he asked you.

Maybe he just came here in hopes to ask the first person he sees, or maybe he was looking for you specifically.

That’s a nice thought.

“Really?! Okay, I don’t mind!”you replied.

“You don’t?!” He replied.

“Of course not! I don’t have much to do anyway.” You giggled.

Before anything you told him the basics, how to stand, how to correct your breathing, and how to aim better.

The day went on.

Percy missed the target completely most times.

But once he finally got remotely close, you had to say you were proud of the blonde.

You were happy to even spend time with him.

“There you go Percy! That was great, you’re getting better!” You chuckled, swinging you arm over his shoulder squeezing him a bit.

He froze at the sudden contact for a moment.

“Thanks! I really c-couldn’t have done it without you, you know!” He went on blushing.

“Awe don’t sweat it, it comes naturally so I never need to put much in to it, but thanks!” You thanked the boy, feeling your face heat up.

Percy handed you the bow back queuing the end of your lesson.

“You know if you ever want me to teach you again I’d be happy to, just swing by cabin 7 I’m usually there.” You mentioned.

“Yeah sure, but about that-“ he started.

“About what?”

“Well uh, seeing each other again you know? Like not during training” He blushed.

“O-oh! Yeah i wouldn’t mind at all, I enjoy your company!” You responded.

“Really?!” Percy added.

“Yeah really.” You confirmed.

“I uh- like being around you too.” Percy smiled.

The two of you got along perfectly.

Like a puzzle piece.

You definitely had a crush on him.

He might like you back.

Percy definitely is too scared to confess anytime soon.

And maybe that’s good.

Love takes time.

Especially puppy love.

A/n: innocent puppy love is deff the vibe I’ll always go for with my Percy fics so hopefully I’ll have time to do more      (Miles 42 fic in the making!!!!)<3

[moonydanny]

Another little fic idea, I hope you like it... Should I expand it?

After they get back together, Tommy really tries to be more open.

Evan had told him—and damn if neither of them had actually noticed back then—that he’d realized that he’d been so pleasantly thrown by how attentive Tommy was, how nice it felt to be doted on after always being the one who doted on others, that he had neglected to do the same in return for Tommy.

And Tommy, well... Tommy loved doting on Evan so much that it never seemed like a priority to ask for what he needed (which, to be fair, most of the time what he needed was to take care of Evan). So one of the promises he’d made to Evan during that long and hard conversation that led to them getting back together was to let Evan take care of him too, and to ask for what he needed. 

And Tommy was really trying. 

So one evening, he gets home to Evan making dinner in the kitchen, and his shift was so incredibly gruelling he feels hollow. He drops his duffel, toes off his boots by the door, and beelines to where Evan is in front of the stove to plaster himself to his boyfriends back.

“Hey, baby. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Tommy hums and just tightens his arms around Evan’s middle. Evan must sense something in Tommy because he turns off the burner and turns in Tommy’s arms and looks at him with those beautiful, earnest eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

And Tommy feels the lump he’s had in his throat since getting back to Harbor from that last rescue getting bigger. 

“What do you need, Tommy?” Evan says it so sweetly, with so much love, and Tommy’s eyes fill with tears.

“Can you—Can you just hold me for a second?” 

“Of course. Come here. I’ve got you.”

They end up lying on the couch, Tommy half on top of Evan, with his head on his chest and Evans arms tight around him. And he let’s himself break apart. He’s never liked crying in front of people, but with Evan, he feels safe.

After a while, when he’s calmed down a bit, he tells Evan about the rescue that had gone wrong. About the kid that had escaped from home after yet another beating from his dad, and how he’d ended up on the side of a cliff and hadn’t made it to the hospital. 

He thanks Evan, for comforting him. 

“Thank you for asking for what you needed, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

And if Tommy sheds a few more tears after hearing his Evan say that to him, well. He’s safe to do so. 

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Permission Denied

Pairing: Dark Shouta "Eraserhead" Aizawa x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You’re bored – stuck inside the house while it’s sunny and nice outside. Aizawa doesn’t care about that. 

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Captivity.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊

--

From your spot on the couch, you steal a glance at the black-haired man that sits on the table, surrounded by piles of paper. Midterm exams, he said.  

It seems like a boring task, but Shouta doesn’t seem to mind. Unlike you, who’s getting restless by the minute. 

There’s nothing for you to do.

Your hobbies are fairly limited, only granted when Shouta is feeling generous enough to notice your boredom, which hasn’t been the case lately. 

He’s too busy between the Hero course class and patrols, which inevitably results in neglecting you. There are no new books for you to devour and the TV’s control remote is still “missing”. 

The kitchen is off limits, which means no cooking or baking.

There’s nothing to do!

Perhaps you’re not being as sneaky as you believe yourself to be because Shouta’s suddenly looks up to meet your gaze, catching you off guard. 

“If you have something to say, then spill it.” 

You look at him, eyes still round with surprise. 

“Well, I…” The words stammer when coming out and you tautly twist your hands. “I’m bored.” 

Shouta looks at you. 

“Yes, I have noticed.” 

It’s a bit disheartening when he goes back to marking papers, leaving you at that. 

“So…I don’t know. Maybe…I could go to the garden?” 

He pauses his scribbling, and you rush to add, “I wouldn’t be alone, of course! You’d be there too, you could grade the papers on the outside table, right?”

His eyes are sharp when he looks back at you, the neutral expression on his face making it harder for you to decipher his true thoughts. 

“I could.” 

Your heart positively jumps at that, and almost fool yourself into believing that you’ve successfully convinced Shouta to do something for you. You’re wrong.   

“But I won’t.” he denies your request just like that, barely batting an eye as he crushes down your hopes. 

Feeling so upset over it makes you feel stupid, but then again, you haven’t left the four walls of Shouta’s home in weeks.

You’re so tired of being here, trapped in the bland ugly house. Tired of him and his insensitivity. Tired of the obnoxious boring routine that has been forced upon you. Tired of everything.  

“Why not?” you burst, even if it comes out more as a demand. 

Shouta’s eyebrows raise at the intensity of your words, and you inhale a small breath, calming yourself down. 

“Why can’t I go outside?” 

“Because at this moment I have a task at hand. I’m sure you can see that.” 

"But I’ve been good. You said that yourself.” your nails leave half-moons in your palms, an attempt to keep your anger at bay. If there’s one thing you’ve learned over these past months is that Shouta doesn’t appreciate hysterical displays of frivolous emotions.

Useless and energy-consuming – that’s how he calls them. 

“You have.” he pauses for a moment, tone slightly softer as he sets the pen down. “I’m not denying that. You have been exemplary these past weeks.” 

Even when you don’t ask it, the question lingers in the tense air. Then why?

Aizawa answers it.

“It’s got nothing to do with your present behavior.” his reassurance does little to soothe your bubbling frustration. Aizawa seems to sense it, semblant turning somber and stern as he stares at you.

“However, my priority is your safety, not your happiness. Perhaps you still remember the last time you were allowed outside? Or of the … incident that occurred?”

He grimaces at that and so do you. 

The incident meant the one-single time Aizawa took you on a late evening walk, where you ended up bumping into one of his neighbours – an overly enthusiastic blonde man – and in the moment of heat, you ended up taking the poor decision to reveal your hostage situation, hoping for help.

Only for said neighbour to turn out to be Aizawa’s close friend, someone Shouta had asked to test you. 

Needless to say that you failed his loyalty test. Hence the house arrest. 

You glance away from him, opting to ignore his question. Aizawa sighs, taking his sweet time cracking his neck from side to side. 

“Like I was saying,” he resumes the conversation, “I’d prefer to reduce that sort of risk from the root. Perhaps one day, if your behavior remains ideal, we can have this discussion again – in a few months.”

Aizawa looks at you with red-streaked eyes, taking notice of your well-concealed frustration as well as blatantly ignoring it.

Picking up the pen, he continues to correct the papers, marking the end of your little discussion and leaving no space for argument. 

Leaving you back in the reign of boredom. 

[beelinx]

the moment i knew

synopsis: between all the stress of volleyball and final exams, your boyfriend kenma happened to forget a very important day - your birthday. warnings: kenma might be a bit of a bad bf </3 angst w/ (somewhat) of a happy ending. NOT PROOFREAD ! 3.1k words fem!reader

based on this rec <3

it was no secret kenma gets tired easily – everyone can see it, really. he has always had a hard time keeping up with his overly energetic teammates, often opting to miss practice to relax and play videogames.

there were days when kenma was just so exhausted he forgot stuff and even neglected his studies.

well, he couldn’t really do that last one much lately.

final exams were tiring not only for him, but for all the students attending nekoma – and you definitely weren’t an exception.

you spent most of your days studying the hardest you could so as to get good grades and be finally able to relax. at least you had something to look forward to, though.

your birthday landing near finals season wasn’t exactly the nicest thing ever, especially considering most of your friends would be too busy. therefore, you opted for no party; just spending the day chilling with the people closest to you was enough.

as your boyfriend, kenma was one of the first people to be told of your plans for the day. you’d been forcing him to study with you, the idea of him failing because he preferred to play video games rather than studying bothered you immensely. 

“i’ve been thinking.” you’d said during one of your breaks, a half-opened bag of chips in your hand.

“about what?” he mumbled in reply, his focus separated between the game he was currently playing and your current conversation.

“well, i know that with finals and all, everyone’s been super busy.” kenma hummed in agreement. you ate a handful of chips before continuing speaking. “and since my birthday falls in between all this madness, i think i’ll just not do anything.”

he grumbled in reply, so you continued, “maybe just you and some of my best friends can come over, and we can watch a movie or something.” you nodded, already set on your idea. “we can eat tons of snacks, too. i want popcorn – and i can get the chips you like.”

kenma nodded absentmindedly, eyes currently trained on his game system. his focus on you was slowly slipping away.

noticing his detached spirit, you quickly added, “you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to though! i know you feel kinda awkward around my friends, but they like you. i promise!”

he hummed once again in reply and stood up slowly, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek – and that basically seemed to mark the end of the conversation. you’d mentioned the party again in later conversations, all in which he seemed to grow more comfortable with the idea.

around three weeks later, it was finally your birthday.

both your friends and your classmates at school had all congratulated you, some giving you gifts. your best friend even brought out a cake and sang you happy birthday, along with your other closest friends, during break. it was nice, receiving so much love from everyone; but something was wrong.

you hadn’t seen kenma all day.

you looked for him everywhere – all his classes, your lunch spots, and everywhere else. you even asked kuroo about it, but he told you he didn’t know, and that it was likely he just overslept and stayed home.

okay, no matter. just because he didn’t come to school doesn’t mean he forgot you existed or anything… right?

you texted him, of course. he replied to you quickly – he always does. he explained he was just feeling tired and that you shouldn’t worry, but that’s not what you were really concerned about.

throughout that whole conversation, never once did he wish you a happy birthday. it made you feel horrible. him forgetting your birthday broke your heart. i mean, it’s not like he didn’t know when he was. you told him. and, sure, maybe he was just so tired with exams that he forgot. but, your friends hadn’t. hell, even kuroo hadn’t – he wished you a happy birthday when you walked up to him earlier.

so, why did he forget?

your thoughts started becoming too much for you. the feeling that the person you considered most important to you currently forgetting such an important moment for you felt soul-crushing. suddenly, you felt tears start to pool in your eyes. you tried to blink them away – and when that didn’t work and the tears started to spill, you wiped them off your face as quickly as you could and rushed to the ladies room.

you rushed with your head down, trying to avoid anyone in the halls seeing your red face. once you got to the bathroom, you locked yourself inside a stall and started sobbing as quietly as you could.

you were suddenly startled by a soft knock on the door of the stall you were sitting in. “...are you okay?” said a soft, questioning voice – one belonging to your best friend. of course, she’d noticed you breaking down. seems like nothing can get past her.

you sniffled and wiped your nose with toilet paper before speaking. “yeah.”

“i don’t believe that.”

slowly, you stood up and unlocked the door of the stall, walking out to meet her. she looked startled upon seeing your red cheeks and puffy eyes, but her features quickly softened into that of concern and sympathy.

“c’mere,” she said, pulling you in for a big hug. then, she grabbed you by the arm and guided you to the sinks, where she ushered you to wash your face. meanwhile, she quickly sent a text on her phone, right before returning her full attention to you.

she gave you a few seconds of silence, waiting for you to comfortable to speak.

“he forgot my birthday,” you whimpered, tears still running down your cheeks.

“who?” she asked. “kenma?”

you nodded in reply, and you swear smoke was basically coming out of her ears. “oh that jackass,” she hissed. “i’ll kill him next time i see him, i swear. what an idiot. how could he forget your birthday? you’ve talked about it time and time again! seriously, i swear that guy better switch schools before i catch his bum ass and-”

before she could finish her threat, the door busted open, revealing your other two friends – yuki and hana. their faces looked red, too, and their clothes seemed disheveled. either they just sprinted all the way here, or they were up to some interesting activities.

your best friend turned around, face seething with anger, and quickly filled them in on the situation. almost immediately, they had all flocked around you, uttering many words of comfort and just as many insults on kenma’s name.

“well… maybe he’s actually planning a secret surprise party?” hana suggested, trying to get you to cheer up, it seemed.

you shook your head. “no, kenma doesn’t like surprises,” you said. “also – i’ve told him before that i wouldn’t like having a surprise party. and he knows today’s plans since i invited him.”

your best friend scoffed, “if he’s willing to forget your birthday then he’s likely to forget tons of other stuff. anniversaries, holidays, picking up your kids for school…” she trailed off, but her point had been made clear. “you should end it now that you know exactly what kind of partner he is, honestly.”

you bit your lip and scrunched your eyebrows in thought. she made a good point, and you knew there was a high chance she was right. but, kenma hasn’t forgotten any of your other anniversaries. in fact, he’s celebrated them all monthly, without missing any of them. you were close to being one year together with him, and during that time he’s been nothing but considerate of you. it seemed he always knew exactly how you were feeling, and what you needed. he doted on you constantly – complimenting your appearance, buying you gifts with all his money, and even trying his hardest to step out of his comfort zone and show more physical affection. despite how heartbroken you felt right now, it still didn’t feel right to break up with him over this.

“i know what you’re thinking,” your best friend said, taking notice of the look in your eyes. she always seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “‘oh but he’s so nice! he’s never done anything wrong!’” she mocked your voice in a way that almost made you laugh despite the current situation. “but i’m telling you, that’s how it starts.”

“maybe,” you replied, “but i still want to talk to him.”

she sighed dramatically, “alright then, whatever you want.” she paused for a minute, clearly hesitating. “i’m just looking out for you, ‘kay? i do hope this is just a stupid mistake that will never happen again on his part. i really do want things to work out for you; i wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken – especially since i know how much he means to you”

you smiled softly and hugged her again. yuki and hana went on their way, not before wishing you good luck with your talk with kenma. your best friend lingered for a little longer, offering to walk to your next class after the lunch break, which you agreed to.

after school had ended, you said goodbye to your friends once again before heading out. you weren’t going to your house this time. well, you were going sometime, since your party plans with your friends were still on. but given that kenma had forgotten your birthday, you assumed he had likely forgotten about the party, too. therefore, going to his house served two purposes: to remind him of said party, and to have a really serious talk with him.

the walk over to kenma’s house somewhat relaxed you, the familiarity of the trees and buildings bringing a sense of comfort to your stressed-out mind. it was a road you had followed many times before, mostly with kenma, though. a sudden wave of sadness washed over you at the abrupt thought that, if this conversation didn’t go well, it would be the last time you walked through this path to visit his house. the thought made you feel sick to your stomach, the previous sense of comfort banishing almost instantaneously.

suddenly, you found yourself standing at his front door. given the lack of noises and lights, you figured his parents weren’t currently home – they were at work, probably. just as well, it might make this even less awkward for you if his parents weren’t here. because, if things went south and they heard that… yeah, you don’t think you’d ever be able to get over it.

your hesitated before knocking softly at his door. you waited for a few seconds, the sound of your heart thumping erratically in your chest being the only noise your ears could pick up. your heart only stopped once he had opened a door. just for a second though, because then it was back to beating at record speed.

kenma looked nice – he always did, in your opinion. despite his messy hair and wrinkled clothes that suggested he’d spent all day laying down, probably playing a bunch of video games, you thought he looked really good. handsome, even. the corners of your lips almost quirked up at the memory of your friends making fun of you the day you confessed to them your huge crush on him.

“oh.” kenma was clearly startled, not expecting you to be the person knocking at his door. “hey, y/n,” he finally said, smiling softly at the sight of you. it was sweet, but you weren’t here for that. you were here for serious matters.

“can we talk?”

he was taken aback by your sudden tone. it was rare for you to act this way, usually the second he’d opened the door you would have jumped in his arms and started rambling on and on. so, obviously, given your change in attitude, he knew this was going to be a serious talk.

kenma nodded and opened the door more, allowing you to enter. you walked up to his room, the house all too familiar. his bedroom smelled like him – well, obviously it did. a video game was left paused on his desktop, the music coming from it stopping abruptly as he saved his progress and closed the game. he sat down next to you on the bed and stared deeply into your eyes. neither of you said anything; it seemed that he wanted you to take the initiative.

“do you know what today is?” you asked him. maybe you still had a sliver of hope he was just waiting to tell you in person. maybe hana was right and he was throwing a surprise party. maybe.

he paused before speaking cautiously, “last week of finals?”

you scrunched your eyebrows and looked down, “check the date, kenma.”

following your orders, he turned on his phone and checked today’s date. his eyes scanned over his phone for a bit, clearly trying to piece together what you were trying to hint at. it wasn’t your anniversary, not yet. he couldn’t remember any special holidays taking place today. maybe it was another one of those dumb trends based on songs. no, you would’ve told him about that. you would’ve…

wait.

kenma’s head snapped towards yours, eyes wide. “it’s your birthday.” he stated. it wasn’t a question, he knew it was. he didn’t know how he forgot, but now he felt awful – especially after noticing your reaction to his words.

“yeah.” you replied simply, your voice raspy.

he stayed quiet for a second, trying to figure out what to say or what to do. his eyes seemed trouble, no doubt he’s mind was off calculating again.

finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

 “i’m… sorry.”

…

“that’s it?” you said, astonished. “is that all you have to say after forgetting my birthday?”

“i don’t know what else i can say,” kenma responded, “i really am sorry. i’ll make it up to you, i-”

“how exactly do you plan to make it up to me, kenma?” you asked him, trying your hardest to keep your voice level and the tears from making an embarrassing return.

“i don’t know yet but,” he took a deep breath, “i will make it up to you, i promise.”

you scoffed and looked away, “so what? am i supposed to take your word for it?”

he swallowed before speaking softly again, “yeah.”

you took in a breath and closed your eyes. “alright then. i’ll see you around,” you said plainly, right before heading over to the door.

“wait!” kenma exclaimed, grabbing your arm before you could get away. he softened his grip once he’d realized he might hurt you. you felt his fingers caress your arm softly, an action he always did to comfort you. “i know you’re upset, it’s my fault. i was tired and i was stupid, but i…” he took a deep breath, “i’m sorry, okay? i’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me.”

hearing kenma so desperate was a rare sight. his eyes looked red, as if he was close to actually starting crying. it wasn’t common for him to show so much emotion. so, in your heart, you knew he meant every word he said. kenma was never the type to lie for his own gain. but… still.

you wanted to forgive him, you really did. still – it didn’t feel right to forgive him so easily, your best friend’s words ringing in your ear. however, it also didn’t feel right to not forgive him. so, you made up your mind on what you’d do.

you kept your gaze averted to the ground, knowing deep down that if you looked at him you’d immediately give in.

“kenma,” you started, “i understand you didn’t mean it, but it still hurt my feelings. so i… well, i’m not breaking up with you.” he seemed to relax more at your words. “but i’m also not forgiving you this easily. you need to make it up to me, and then i guess we’ll see where it goes, ‘kay?”

he nodded, “do you still want me to go to your house?”

you bit your lip, unsure on what to say. “my friends might be a bit… hostile towards you, and it may be better if i had more time to think. so… it might be better if you don’t, actually.” he once again nodded, understanding your point.

“we should do something – tomorrow, maybe. i don’t know,” you continued, “you can think about how you’ll make it up to me during that time, if you want.”

“okay,” he said softly, watching as you walked away, not making an effort to stop you this time. he lowered his gaze and stared intently at his hands. you didn’t forgive him, but you also did? he wasn’t sure what to do to fully make it up to you, but he’d have to try his hardest now. he imagined kuroo would make a comment about how down bad he’d become that he’d actually put so much effort into something that wasn’t a video game.

“kenma?”

his head snapped up at the sound of your sweet voice. you were standing just out of his doorway, looking awkwardly at him.

you hesitated, debating whether or not you should tell him that he does have a chance, that you really wanted to forgive him. but if you did then maybe he wouldn’t try, so…

“nevermind,” you shook your head, “good luck on your game. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

his eyes followed you as you scurried away. he only relaxed once he heard the sound of the front door slamming.

you might have backed down whatever it was you were going to say, but the fact that you lingered for a longer while made him feel as if he did have a shot. for a second he’d worried you would never forgive him. that you – kind, sweet, and understanding you – had finally had enough with him and would leave him all alone.

knowing he had a chance motivated him to try his hardest, already planning what he’d say, what he’d give you, and what else he could do. he kept kicking himself over how your birthday managed to slip his mind. it was such a stupid mistake, and he’d make sure it’d never happen again. that’s not what you deserve. kuroo would, without a doubt, call him an idiot, too. 

it didn’t matter, he deserved that.

and you, you deserve the best of the best – which he’ll try his hardest to give you. 

even if it takes him years, he’ll never stop trying to make it up to you.

because you’re you, and you’re way too good for him.

he has a lot of work to do for tomorrow, huh?

[aewon]

golden

heeseung x f!reader g: fluff, angst ⚠️ : cursing, kissing wc: 1.8k

��————————————————————————

Growing up wasn’t easy for you.

Your sister was the golden child, loved by all, hated by none.

You on the other hand were the “other” child in your parents lives.

The one who didn’t get as much attention no matter what you did.

You yearned for the affection and praise from your parents that your sister got daily.

Even in school, your sister was popular with many friends while you had a small few.

You knew your sister truly hated you when you confided in her about a crush you had sophomore year, and she began dating him a week later.

Everything you wanted, your sister got.

Every birthday she was showered with love and lavish gifts, while yours were days mostly spent with friends as less effort was given by your family.

Family…can you even call them that?

It was at 18 when you decided to go low contact with your family, your sister included.

You vowed not to let them hurt you anything with their lack of care for you.

You’re now in your senior year of college, and living without being in your sister's shadow has brought more happiness to you than you could have ever imagined.

She decided to pursue school out of state, while you stayed.

You’re going to be graduating top of your class, but of course your sister’s graduation is overshadowing that.

Which is why when you get the text from your parents inviting you home to celebrate your sister, you want nothing more than to say no.

But you know if you do, they’ll raise questions and it’ll be a whole repeat of the conversation you tried having years ago.

Before you left, you tried talking to your parents about your feelings. How you felt inferior to your sister in their eyes.

They, of course, vehemently denied any accusation of favoritism, claiming you were overreacting.

That was the end of that.

So, you suck it up, telling them you’ll be there.

Your apartment and school are a good hour and a half away from your hometown.

You make the drive the next day, dreading being in the same room as your family for the next 2-3 hours.

When you arrive, the house is already crowded.

You pass uncles, aunts, cousins.

None of them bother to greet you, making you regret coming already.

When you find your parents and sister, they make half an effort to greet you.

“Sis, I’m so glad you could make it,” your sister says.

“Congratulations.” You smile, albeit awkwardly.

Without even saying thank you, she rushes off to greet one of her friends.

You saunter away from your parents, finding a somewhat quiet corner to bury yourself in.

You’re scrolling through your phone when someone sits next to you.

You’re surprised to see Lee Heeseung, one of your sister's friends since high school.

You think he’s just sitting down to relax, but then he’s talking to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You look up, “…Hi?”

You remember whenever your sister had friends over, you weren’t allowed to talk to them because it upset her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” Heeseung says.

“Yeah, I moved a couple towns away for college.”

“How have you been?”

“Great! I’m graduating this year.”

Heeseung, who's the same age as your sister, graduated before you.

“Congrats, that’s a big deal. Are your parents gonna arrange a party for you too?”

Your smile slowly fades, “Probably not.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Why not?”

You want to tell the truth, the fact that your parents have never cared for you the way they do your sister.

The neglect, the lack of affection, you want to spill everything.

But, he probably won’t believe you, so you wave it off, “I’m just not really a party type.”

He looks like he’s about to say more when you hear your sister squeal his name from across the yard.

Before you know it, she’s rushed over, grabbing Heeseung by the sleeve and dragging him toward their friend group.

You sigh, it’s probably better you don’t talk to him anyway.

The hours drag on and your parents gather everyone’s attention, clanking a fork on a wine glass.

“We’re so happy to have everyone important to S/N here to celebrate her special day. 23 years ago we gave birth to the light of our life and everyday has been a blessing. Our daughter is smart, hardworking, kind and so much more. We can’t think of anyone more deserving. Please, a toast, to S/N.”

Everyone raises their glasses, toasting to her.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the tears that begin to form.

Getting up, you quietly leave the backyard, heading upstairs to your old room.

It’s empty, with nothing but a bed and dresser, no essence of you anywhere.

When you moved out, you made sure to take everything with you.

Now, as you sit on the bed, you let the tears fall.

You knew your parents didn’t care for you the way they did your sister. Yet, some part of you still hoped you had a place in their hearts, but clearly that was not the case.

This feels like a knife was twisted in your heart.

“Y/N?”

Heeseung’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he enters the room.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, coming to sit beside you on the bed.

“It’s nothing,” you say, wiping your tears frantically.

“You’re crying, Y/N, that’s not nothing.”

“Why are you here, Heeseung? Why are you talking to me?

“Because you’re sad, and I hate to see you sad.” His eyes are soft, looking at you like you’re fragile.

“You don’t even know me Heeseung, why do you care if I’m sad or not?”

Without warning he cups your face, pulling you forward into a kiss.

Your eyes are wide open in shock, before you relax in his hold, closing your eyes and enjoying the kiss.

Your lips move desperately, as he scoots impossibly closer.

You’re so drawn into the kiss, you don’t hear the footsteps making their way upstairs.

“What the fuck!”

You hear your sister’s voice and immediately break away.

“S/N-” You try to speak but she cuts you off.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? I’ve always told you to stay away from my friends and this is what you do in return. You know he’s mine.”

You look between her and Heeseung, stuttering out an apology before you rush out of the room.

Running downstairs, you hear footsteps behind you and you run into the living room.

“What happened?” Your father asks as S/N and Heeseung follow closely behind you.

“Y/N apparently thinks it’s okay to kiss another girl's man,” S/N says, huffing.

Your parents turn to you, disgust evident on their faces.

You know it shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

“Is this true?” Your mother asks.

“I…I didn’t know—” You’re grasping at straws, trying to defend yourself.

Everyone is staring at you, looks of disappointment on everyone’s faces.

You feel a new onset of tears coming down and without another word you rush out of the house.

S/N watches you go, then turns her attention to Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” She asks, “Did she force herself on you? I swear I’m gonna—”

“Stop!” Heeseung shouts, silencing everyone’s whispers.

“She didn’t force herself on me S/N are you fucking crazy? I kissed her!”

S/N has the audacity to look confused. “Why would you do that? You know you and I are—”

“We’re nothing!” Heeseung shouts. “We have never been anything more than friends and we never will be.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually like her? She’s a loser, why would you like someone like her?” S/N is blabbering at this point, saying whatever is in her mind.

Heeseung looks at her in utter shock, terrified that someone could talk about their own sister like that.

“You know what I think S/N? I think you’re a spoiled, bratty, insignificant human being. The fact that you could talk about your sister like that, your own family, is appalling. I don’t know what planet you’re living on, but this one doesn’t revolve around you.”

S/N is shocked, “What do you mean? I’m insignificant? She’s the one who’s insignificant!”

Heeseung smirks, “I get it now. You’re jealous. Jealous that she’s pretty, that she’s smart, kind, successful… everything you’re not. And it seems you’ve been nothing but enabled your whole life,” he says with his gaze on your parents.

With that, he heads out the door in your direction.

He gazes down both sides of the street, looking for your figure.

Heeseung finally spots you, on the other side of the road, down a hill that leads to a park.

He jogs, nearly tripping on his way down.

He approaches you cautiously, hearing your small sniffles.

You’re sitting on a bench, criss-crossed, head buried in your hands.

He sits next to you, “Y/N.”

You glance at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you. What S/N said isn’t true. We’re not together, in any way.”

You sit up, “Even so, we shouldn’t have been talking to each other in the first place.”

“Why? Because S/N doesn’t like it? Who cares what she thinks!”

“S/N has always been the favorite. Everything she wanted, she got. I.. I never meant anything to my parents, no matter what I did.”

“They’ve enabled her behavior, haven’t they?”

You nod, “For years, I just wanted some kind of acknowledgment from them. But I know I’ll never get it, especially not now.”

“You don’t need people like that in your life. You deserve to be surrounded by people who appreciate you and give you what you deserve,” Heeseung says, pouring his heart out in hopes you’ll understand.

“Like who?”

“Like me.” He smiles. “I didn’t kiss you for no reason. I like you, Y/N.”

Your beautiful eyes blink up at him, “Me? Why? We’ve barely interacted in the past.”

Heeseung leans back against the bench, looking up at the sky like he’s thinking.

“Well, it all started when I came to your house for the first time. I came into your kitchen for water and you were just standing there, looking beautiful as ever. We didn’t talk other than you saying ‘excuse me’ but I knew then that I liked you.”

For the first time today, you smile, a genuine smile.

“That was my first kiss.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened in surprise, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay. I liked it,” you say, reassuring him.

He smiles back at you, “Then, can I do it again?”

You don’t answer with words, instead leaning forward to peck his lips.

He chases your lips, pressing them together again, longer this time.

When you part, he looks blissful. “Y/N, would you give me the honor of taking you on a date?”

You lean into his side, snuggling into it as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’d like that.”

For once, you have something your sister doesn’t, and damn does it feel good.

—————————————————————————

note: hi, this is based off the number of reddit stories i’ve read about golden child’s and bullshit like that so hehe, enjoy

[l0stglitch]

A night at the boardwalk

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Notes- Sorry this took so long to write! This fic wasn’t supposed to be that dark but then idk I guess I kind of changed my mind towards the end.

Warnings- Neglectful parenting, (They’re all kind of assholes in this but at least Dwayne and Paul try to be nice)

Part 2

You glared down at the sheet in front of you, hoping that the intensity of your gaze would somehow make it disappear altogether. Algebra had always been a weak spot for you, so being given a sheet full of equations to solve by your tutor had been a very unwelcome surprise.

It was hard to even read the numbers under the dim light of the cave, which only added to your growing frustration.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Your head shot up at the sound of Paul’s voice. Judging by the way his words seemed to almost melt into each other, you came to the conclusion that your father was definitely not sober.

“Hey pa,” You replied as he sat down on the couch beside you.

The man threw his head back with a theatrical groan and rested his arms on the back of the couch.

His eyes remained shut for a moment, before opening and curiously glancing over at you.

“Whatcha got there babe?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the paper absentmindedly.

“School work.”

Paul snorted, “School work! You actually bother with that shit? Y/n you don’t even go to school.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment, “Well yeah. Lindsey set it for me- and besides the others would kill me if I didn’t do it.”

He frowned, “Is she setting you too much work? Cause you know we can find you someone else if-”

“No! No! I like her.” You cut in quickly. Lindsey wasn’t your first tutor. You’d had a few before, but they usually didn’t last long. Each one mysteriously disappearing after a few months.

Since you weren’t enrolled in school, your fathers (well, David and Dwayne) had decided that it was important that you were still somewhat educated, and had taken the responsibility of finding tutors for you.

It was risky of course, having outsiders visit the cave to teach you, so it wasn’t surprising that your fathers were extremely careful about who they picked and what information they gave to them.

Lindsey was the best so far, but she had been teaching you for three months by now. You knew it was only a matter of time until they replaced her.

Paul took the work from you and squinted at it.

“You know how much math I do each day?”

You frowned, “Uh- do you even know how to do math?”

He scrunched the paper into a ball and threw it across the room.

“Nope! And I don’t need to- cause it’s all just dumb made up shit.”

He twisted onto his knees and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Look babe, you should be enjoying life- not wasting it on algebra.”

You laughed dryly, “I would if David hadn’t grounded me.”

Paul sat back with a defeated look on his face, “Well shit. I forgot about that. Wait- what did you do again?”

“Fuck knows.”

He hummed and lit a spliff.

You debated asking for a smoke, but ultimately decided not to.

“Y’know… I think you’re right about me enjoying life.”

Paul quirked a brow, “Well duh. Im always right.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking maybe you could take me to the boardwalk.”

“Take you to the boardwalk…” He repeated under his breath.

“Yep. David said I can’t go alone, so as long as you’re with me..”

Your dad blinked at you, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“So.. so.. you’re grounded- or are you not?”

You smiled innocently and shook your head. “Not grounded.”

“And you want me to take you to the boardwalk?”

“Yeah.”

Paul paused for a second, “Sure, that sounds fun.”

You grinned, delighted by how easy it was to get your way.

“Great! I’ll go grab a jacket.”

He nodded slowly, “Ok I’ll uh- I’m getting the keys then.”

You almost tripped in your haste to get to your room. You grabbed a worn leather jacket from your clothes rack before spinning around and running back to Paul.

Unsurprisingly, you got back before he had managed to find the keys to the bike.

“Pa, they’re in that drawer over there.” You said as you entered the main part of the cave, pointing over to a small, wooden chest of drawers.

He frowned, “Coulda sworn I just checked that one…” you heard him mumble to himself as he lumbered over to where you had directed him.

“Ha! You’re right babe- they were here this whole time. That’s weird.”

You smiled impatiently, “Can we go now?”

“You aren’t gonna put on your jacket?”

You glanced down at the leather tucked under your arm, realising you’d forgotten to put it on in your rush.

“Yes- fine! Can we please go now?”

Paul watched as you quickly shoved your arms into the sleeves with barely concealed frustration. Not that he particularly noticed in his impaired state.

“Cmon then.”

He stood up and held out a hand. Usually you would’ve refused, claiming to be too old for that, but you knew better than to test your limits right now. As long as you got out the cave, that was all that mattered.

Paul spoke to you the whole ride. Or at least, you think he did- it was difficult to hear over the rushing wind and snarling engine.

When you eventually reached the boardwalk, it only took around 5 minutes for your father to get distracted.

You noticed them before he did. A rowdy mix of surf nazis and punks, many of them seeming to recognise Paul. They called him over, flashing their alcohol and weed enticingly at him.

He looked at you, torn between his responsibilities as a father and the desire to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“You stay here, ok? I’ll be five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

You nodded obediently, “Don’t worry Pa, you can trust me.”

He ruffled your hair, “I know.”

You stood there for a moment, watching as he eagerly greeted the group. It saddened you slightly, seeing how he’d rather spend the night with them instead of you, but at least it gave you the opportunity to see your friends.

Once you were sure he wasn’t coming back, you began making your way through the busy crowds. The smell of food stalls, and the sound of people chattering excitedly- you loved it. You loved the boardwalk with your whole heart.

“Y/n! Is that you?”

You turned at the sound of your best friend’s voice. She was hanging out with a group of kids you’d never seen before, a surprised look on her face.

You hurried over, greeting her with a hug.

“I’ve missed you Beth,” you said as you pulled out of the embrace. Your friend smiled and gave your hand a warm squeeze.

“Me too- I kinda thought you were grounded.”

“Yeah I was. I managed to convince Paul to take me out.”

Bethany frowned, “Is he the one who taught you to skateboard?”

You were touched by her effort to try and remember the things you had told her about your dads. “No that’s Dwayne. Paul’s the stoner.”

She nodded, “Ah ok, so that means we won’t have to worry about being caught?”

“Unless one of the others shows up we should be fine.”

“Great! Let’s go do something fun then.”

You frowned, glancing over at the other kids she was with, “You’re just gonna leave them?”

Bethany shrugged, “They’re just school friends. I’d rather hang out with you.”

You smiled, “If you’re sure. What kind of fun did you have in mind?”

She shot you a sly grin, “How about we get our ears pierced?”

“Again?”

“Yeah, we can get our seconds done!”

You hesitated, imagining David or Marko’s reaction to another set of piercings.

“Oh cmon, your dads are punks right? Surely they won’t be that pissed off.”

“Yeah but they’re also total hypocrites and control freaks.”

Bethany gave you a pleading look, and you finally gave in.

“Ok ok, let’s go do it.”

She squealed in excitement and grabbed your hand, “We’re gonna look so cool! Have you eaten yet? We can grab some hotdogs or something after!”

You laughed, “I’m starving! We’ve got like no food at home.”

Beth shot you a sympathetic look, “Aw you poor thing. They starvin you again?”

“Yeah but.. not purposely this time,” you shrugged, trying to downplay it.

“Ok, well we’ll get ya something to eat after.”

You nodded, “That’s the place, right?”

She glanced over to the tattoo parlour you were looking at, “Yeah that’s it. I know a guy whose brother works there.”

You hummed as you both reached the door, “Sometimes it feels like you know the whole of Santa Carla.”

Bethany laughed, “You would too if your dads let you go to school.”

You shrugged, “Maybe one day…”

Your conversation seemed to naturally die as you both walked inside.

The guy Bethany knew was nice enough- he gave you both a 50% discount and told you to come back again should you ever want anything else.

You thanked him and left once you were finished, eager to find something to eat.

“You want any mustard on that?”

You quickly shook your head, “Just ketchup’s fine.”

The guy in the van nodded, squirting red sauce onto your hotdog. He handed you the food in exchange for a couple dollars and you walked back over to Bethany.

“You sure you don’t want anything?”

The blonde girl shrugged, “Me and mum ate earlier.”

You nodded and took a large bite out of the hotdog.

Bethany watched you eat. The way you hungrily tore into your food saddened her- she knew you were being mistreated by your parents. She knew that sometimes you’d go days without food. You claimed it was accidental, and that they would never starve you as a form of punishment, but she wasn’t so sure.

“Y’know, you could always move in with us. My mum wouldn’t mind, and my dad… well he’s been gone for a while now. I doubt he’s gonna come back anytime soon.”

You swallowed your food and shook your head, “Beth I couldn’t do that to you. If my dads found out-”

You stopped yourself before you could say it. If your dads found out that you had moved in with your best friend, then she was as good as dead.

You’d seen what they were capable of. Only once, but that was enough to change the way you saw them. They were predators. They fed off people. People like Bethany. People like you.

“I know I just- I just worry about you.”

You smiled, “You shouldn’t, you got your own shit to deal with.”

She laughed humourlessly, “You mean my dad? He’s long gone, Y/n. I don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

You were about to reply, when a familiar voice suddenly caught your attention.

“Two hours Paul! Two fucking hours and you somehow managed to lose her.”

You stopped in your tracks and grabbed Bethany’s hand. She shot you a questioning look, but you offered no explanation.

“Dude I swear I was only gone for like five minutes! I thought I could trust her.”

“She’s thirteen! In what world is a thirteen year old trustworthy?”

Bethany suddenly seemed to catch on. “Shit! Are those your dads?”

You nodded frantically, “Yeah! They uh- they definitely know I’m here so you gotta get outta here now before they see you.”

“You gonna be ok?”

“I’ll be fine- just go ok?”

Your friend reluctantly turned around, sending you a quick goodbye before disappearing into a crowd.

A moment later, David rounded the corner, followed by Dwayne, Paul and Marko.

“Where the fuck have you been?” David demanded, his icy blue eyes staring threateningly at you.

“I was hungry.” You said, meekly holding up the ketchup stained napkin.

Dwayne took a step closer, eyes full of worry, “Paul forgot to feed you?”

You narrowed your eyes, “I can feed myself- there just wasn’t any food.”

David scoffed, “So you snuck out cause you were hungry?”

You frowned, “I didn’t sneak out- Paul took me!”

“Hey! Don’t blame this on Paul. He brought you here as a kind gesture and you fucking ran off!” Marko interjected.

“He went off to get high! How is that my fault?” You could hear how your voice was getting whinier the more you spoke, desperate and full of frustration.

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but David cut him off. “Enough of this. It’s time to go home.”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from arguing with him, knowing it would only make the situation worse.

Dwayne took your hand and rubbed your knuckles placatingly. “Cmon babe let’s go.”

You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to lead you to where they had parked their bikes.

Dwayne mounted the ride first, before helping you up onto the seat behind. You glanced over and accidentally locked eyes with Paul. He looked slightly apologetic, although it was hard to tell through the darkness.

“Alright let’s go!” David called over the grumble of the engines. You wrapped your arms tightly around Dwayne’s waist as his bike shot forward seconds later.

The cool night air stung your eyes, forcing you to shut them.

Smothered by the howling wind, you could hear laughter and cheering from your fathers. It almost felt like they were taunting you.

They were excited to get back to the cave. Excited to punish you. It made you sick.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @xjesterxjacksx @simplyreading96 @ursinaw @purple-lemon-8

(This technically isn’t a part 2 of the first fic because I wasn’t really sure what direction to take that one but I do have a few ideas for this so if anyone’s interested in a part 2 of this or just has any suggestions/requests my asks are open!)

[anemonelovesfiction]

I’ve Neglected you Far Too Long

Ao’nung x Hybrid Fem! Reader

No mentions of Y/n though but its implied. Obviously they’re adults- I quite literally mention Ao’nung has tattoo’s. And obviously theres some smut.

Kind of like an arranged marriage scenario. Any words in English are stricken through. If they’re in italics its just emphasis on that word. Starts off with a bit of background, smut is near the end lol, but its a lot of it.

Word count: 9.2K because I got carried away.

I would say it started with my birth. I was granted the luck of being born Kiri’s twin, with a few minor setbacks, although to Neytiri they were enough to refuse taking me in as her own. I was born with the size and appearance of a human- but I was a halfbreed. My features were human but I was the one born with fangs and I had a kuru as well but it was relative to my size, it was still encased in a big braid and reached past my butt, almost mid thigh, yet still had the natives squinting to see it.

If it wasn’t for Jake pointing out that I had a queue and didn’t need an exomask to breathe, one of the Metkayina warriors would have thrown their spear, killing me. I was captured alongside Spider, when they put me in the machine they’d put Spider in, it awakened some telekinetic abilities I didn’t know I had.

But they’re tied to my emotions and I could only ever really use them if I felt strongly about something. Which is why I was able to help kill most of the humans that had hunted the tulkun, I had enough of their interrogations and abuse.

After losing Neteyam, Ronal and Tonowari welcomed the Sully’s into the Metkayina, and were willing to accommodate for Spider only if I were to marry their son. Their reason being that my telekinetic abilities - which seemed to surpass Kiri’s in their eyes- could protect their clan and son if anything like that happened again.

Ronal disliked that I was half human, she didn’t really want me to marry her son with my outward appearance- like one of the tawtute- sky people- but if I could be used to protect her dear son, thats all that mattered to her, keeping her lineage going.

“We could unite the reef clans and forest people.”

Were Neytiri’s words after Ronal had brought up her reasoning. Tonowari had stayed silent with his hands on his knee’s. It was Ronal’s idea for them to kneel so I wouldn’t feel intimidated by their height, but I’m shorter than most humans, so they were still a good head taller than me, maybe two.

“Of course this is your choice, kid.” Jake stated carefully, his hand movements mimicking that of a calm ultimatum, and this was anything but.

I nodded once, then walked out of the tent and sat by the beach. I couldn’t think of anyone other than Spider. If he were to go back to the Omaticaya, he’s be lonely. His entire life revolved around the Sully’s and I couldn’t risk him being kicked out, and I refused to spend any more time away from my sister.

I’d gotten an earful from Neytiri that day about being disrespectful to the clan leaders for leaving the way I did. I had no idea how to respond and she despised me- had I looked like Kiri I’m sure the story would be different, but I’m not like her, my genetics decided to mute the blue and because of that, I’d forever be treated as a human by Neytiri- even if I could breathe the same air as her, even if I can make tsaheylu.

And it has lead me to being bathed in scents that Ao’nung found pleasing. Neytiri and Jake were allowed to voice their opinion on the matter and Jake had mentioned that this smelled of raspberries back on earth.

As tradition, the mother of the groom and any female sibling, or honorary females washed the bride in the scents and got her ready for her soon-to-be husband. And all of the males near and dear to my heart would do the same to the groom. In this case I had told them not to do anything to change his appearance and to leave him as is. Even if he’d made up with Lo’ak, I could never forget the face he made after finding out he was betrothed to me. The shock in his face said it all, he didn’t want me, and I didn’t want him either but at least I was cordial about it.

I had no idea how big of a celebration this would be. Everyone from the clan walked up and wished blessings upon us, a fruitful- and fertile- marriage. I’m glad I stuck around with Spider and learned Na’Vi while we were kids as a lot of the well wishes were very long and I’d kick myself in the face if I had to childishly reply with broken Na’Vi.

Nothing happened that night.

Don’t get me wrong I’m excited and happy we didn’t do what I was told married couples do by Neytiri. She went into greater detail than Norm did about mating as a Na’Vi and how the tsaheylu was a crucial part of becoming connected to ones mate. Most nights I was ignored and we’d go to sleep on separate mats. I’d need to start Tsahik training but I’d need to learn the things Tsireya had learned when she was younger and work my way up in rank. Because of this, Lo’ak was in the lead of becoming Olo’eyktan considering he’s earned their trust and Tsireya knew more about healing.

_________

“The tattoo’s have different meanings and what one curve could mean for someone, it could be translated differently in another clan members markings.” Tsireya mentions while showing me two nearly identical tattoo’s.

“These are almost identical.” I stated blankly and giggled, placing her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.

“Yes but you noticed the difference between the two, you said almost. Explain what you see.” She asks.

“This one has what appears to be a smoother execution. This one seems bold, like you used a darker ink? It has jagged edges too.”

“The first one was for a warrior who had just had his inknimaya. Everything went well for him and the skimwing he had bonded with. For the second, not so much, he experienced much pain and eventually managed to execute it perfectly.”

“The second tattoo is slightly bigger, could this indicate multiple tries to his inknimaya?”

“You are a quick learner.” Tsireya smiles at me and I smile back. It wasn’t hard to be genuine around her and she made it hard to hate her. She’s seen me naked more times than my own husband, and she’d only seen me before I got married to him.

By the end of the lesson she struggles to get on her feet from kneeling in front of me and I feel terrible.

“You don’t always have to kneel for us to be the same height, Tsireya. If you wanted to stand I wouldn’t mind.” This isn’t the first time I tell her.

“I need to be flexible.” She states happily.

“For who, Lo’ak?” I ask and start laughing at her embarrassed face.

“I’m sorry, Rey, but these jokes just come naturally to me, I can’t stop them when my tongue is faster than my mind.” I giggle as she huffs and turns her head.

“I’ll make the same jokes when you are with child.”

“No you won’t.” Partly because I’ve yet to consummate my marriage. “I don’t even know if we could have kids considering I’m a half-breed that looks human.” I stated aloud.

“Toruk Macto is a half breed.” She states as if it were obvious.

“Yes, but he has the appearance of a native. It’s easier for him to blend in. Lo’ak is also a half breed and he too can hide with the rest of the Na’Vi. I’m-“ I stop myself before saying anything too harsh, or she’d scold me. “-different.”

“The kind of different my brother needs in his life. Keep trying for children and I will pray that the great mother blesses you!” She says over enthused.

“Sure.” I stated simply, smiling at her. We said our goodbyes and I headed off toward his marui pod.

_________

“Where have you been?”

“With your sister. Learning.” I stated, I’ve grown to know Ao’nung likes short answers and to never bother him when he was entranced with something- whether it was learning a new trick on a skimwing or sparring. I placed my medical bag down- Kiri made this one for me as a present and I never went anywhere without it.

I can feel his eyes on me while I search in a big box for some herbs to refill my bag. The bag hangs over my chest and does a good job of hiding my stomach- not that its big, I hide it from the sun since I’m often exposed. I’d learned to wear traditional clothes and the loincloths were made in children's size due to my stature. The top was something Kiri had to teach me to make- it resembles a human sports bra but matching my loincloth.

My loincloth was traditional in every sense except it didn’t have a hole for a tail, but it still adjusted and tied off on the side, just like everyone else's.

“Are you hurt?” I ask him once I refill my bag and look up to face him. I’d known of his tattoo’d arms but the one on his face was new. It made his eyes pop and he looked handsome- but that didn’t matter.

“What?” He asks as of he hadn’t heard me before.

“Are you hurt. Do you need something from me?” I asked him and he understands what I mean.

“No.” He answers and turns his face toward the side to look at the floor of his- our, because it technically is ours- marui.

“Then I will head out and assist.” I answered not really caring to give him a chance to respond- let alone process- what I said. But he was faster than I was and his hand reached around my bicep and that stopped me.

He was never one to touch me. Not when it came to helping me learn the way of his village, not now, and not even on our wedding night. I press my teeth on my tongue to prevent myself from saying something smart and I turn to face him. I refuse to talk as I’d always found some way to offend him with whatever I said so I waited for him to speak.

“Do you resent me?” He asks simply and this question is a slap to my face. My face only forms in confusion as my eyebrows knit together and my eyes squint slightly.

“I don’t-“ I began but stopped myself from speaking as he lets go of my bicep. I look over at his hand and back at him feeling more confusion than ever.

“I see.” He answers plainly and I furrow my brows some more before raising one and looking at him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to.” He answers simply and I feel like I’d immediately done something wrong again. “Your face said everything your words could not.”

“But-“

“You should go out and assist my sister. Let her know I held you back if she asks why you are late.” He states before walking past me and heading out the opening of the marui with his spear.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding once the curtain fell shut again. Of course I resented him, he was rude, underestimated me in everything, and never made an effort to get to know me. But I hadn’t said any of that to his face and I was in control of my emotions and knew I didn’t make a face of disgust- but why did he ask the question in the first place?

_________

“Did you talk to her?” Spider asks as soon as Ao’nung joins the hunting party. Due to his inability to bond with the animals he often rode with Lo’ak.

“Yes.” Ao’nung answered.

“Is she coming to the party tonight?” Lo’ak asks after lightly nudging between Spider’s hips to quiet the grown man in front of him, he sure was nosey today.

“I did not ask.” Ao’nung answers and Spider grumbles.

“The whole point was to-“ Spider stops himself when Lo’ak’s Ilu immediately surges forward. And the hunt began.

_________

“Theres a lot of people gathering for something outside. Was there something planned for today? Did I have to do something?” I asked nervously once Ao’nung had come into the marui. He must have showered at some point because he didn’t smell like sea air like he usually does after a hunting trip.

“The celebration of our union.” Is all he says while placing his spear on the wall along with his others.

“But we-“

“It’s what you call an Annie-server.” He states in his best english and given the severity of my nerves I couldn’t find the way he fudged up the words funny at this time.

“It hasn’t been a year yet-“ I stop myself as he walks over to pick the accessories he never touches, taking the ones he has on and replacing them with those.

“Has it?” I ask myself quietly.

“It has.” He answers and stops in front of me. One hand on my shoulder but its immediately removed when I look at it.

“Please put these on.” He hands me a matching pair, the one from our wedding- union as they call it. It’s supposed to show that we are harmonious. I try to tie the bands on my anklet together but my fingers keep fumbling and I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Let me help you.” He sits in front of me and offers his hand to take my leg.

“No-“ He takes my leg after letting out a small hiss of his own and sets it on top of his thigh where he leans over and carefully ties the bands together. His hands on my ankle sends a shiver up my spine.

“It’s only done the first year. They will ask invasive questions. I’m glad my sister convinced you to use the soap. Come.” He stands quickly and heads over to the entrance of the marui.

He holds the flap of the curtain open for me to walk through. I was going to comment on why his hair was undone but was met with a bunch of cheers and a celebratory song. I’m awestruck as the clan starts parting and a walkway is created for me. I follow them and end up near the front.

“We have come to celebrate the night this union was made one year ago.” Ronal smiles big at the clan as she announces her words.

“It is time to take on the tradition of the couples.” Tonowari joins in and the crowd basically goes wild. I stand with a fake smile plastered on my face.

“Ao’nung. Face your bride.” Tonowari speaks once more and he steps up in front of me before kneeling respectfully taking my hand and kissing it, making a majority of the girls awe at his gesture, but I knew better, it was a show. I let go of his hand quickly and awaited further instruction.

“This is our clans best kept secret. You will braid his hair to your liking as a symbol of life's twists and turns bringing you together. And he is to maintain the hairstyle or one similar for the rest of his life as his devotion to you.” Ronal states.

My eyes widened and I’m fucked. I can braid for sure, all thanks to Tuk, Kiri, and Neteyam consistently asking me to braid their hair often, but I didn’t know about this was a requirement. If Lo’ak and Tsireya were to have wedded before myself and Ao’nung I would have expected this. But they married about four weeks after we did. And Ao’nung doesn’t let anyone touch his hair. My eyes wandered over to find his staring back at me and I looked down releasing quiet but heavy exhale.

“But before we start, you are to drink this.” Ronal hands me a cup thats decently sized, still huge in comparison to me but good enough to grab.

“This is made up of many many plants and fruits from our clan and has been prayed over with many blessings poured into it from the beginning of the process.” Ronal informs me.

“This drink is to be shared between the two of you. You will speak many blessings in it yourself- in a hushed voice, take a drink and you will hand it off to your mate to receive the blessings.” Ronal smiles and hands the cup over to me.

I’m nervous as shit and am worried I might say the wrong thing but am glad it doesn’t have to be shared aloud. And I take a look into the cup and see the deep red liquid inside and sigh.

“Treat me like the mate I ought to be treated and my face won’t show resentment again.” I whispered into it and took a big chug- considering there was a lot of liquid in there.

I walk over toward Ao’nung and hand him the cup I’d just drank from and he drinks the rest. The cheers coming from the crowd make my tummy tingle and I start feeling weird. I should probably ask Tsireya what kinds of things were included in there to see if its compatible with my human half.

“You may begin.” Tonowari gently nods his head once at me and I nod.

“Could-“ I stop myself and Ao’nungs eyes are burning in mine and nervously chuckle, averting my eyes once more.

“Could you please turn so I can reach your head, Yawne?” I blush harshly at that and the positive whispers in the crowd are making me feel uncomfortable, but I always had to put on a show for them. Ao’nung nods once and does as I ask and I put myself to work.

His tail wraps loosely on my calf and it feels warm. I’m sure this is all for the sake of appearance but it makes it feel like it’s a smidge hard to breathe. I won’t lie, after a long day of chores, or whatever strenuous activity Ao’nung has done his hair looks the best right before he showers. Pieces of it have come out of the braids and are clinging to his face by his sweat- no, stop it.

I’d worked diligently and managed to create the hairstyle he always wears. Except some of the braids on the sides twist to form X’s.

“You barely changed it.” Ao’nung states after feeling around and turning to face me.

“This is how you look best, to me.” I admit.

“Especially when some of these,“ I gently yank out the loose pieces I’d failed to tuck in properly. “Slip out. Like after you finish working.” I find myself gingerly placing my hand on his cheek, I look down at his lips and my eyes slightly widen at my own actions before I remove my hand slowly, making my movements not show how we truly are with one another, and taking a step back.

Several one of the younger girls had held on to the boys courting them and mentioned how they wanted a love like ours and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If only they knew what our Love really was.

“The last thing for you to do is to decide which one of these your mate has prepared. This will also test to see how well you notice our signature hunting mark.” Tsireya steps back and reveals three fish total that had been cooked. If he managed to hunt with Lo’ak and Spider I’d be more willing to pick out Spiders pathetic excuse of a hunt since he did things the human way. Then I’d have to compare it to Lo’ak’s which might resemble both clans hunting and preparing skills into one and choose the one that least resembled the two. But if they decided to choose at random from other clansmen, I’m screwed.

It suddenly felt like my body temperature had risen and I could feel the slight stickiness that forms on my skin before I start sweating and I feel slightly uncomfortable. I take a look at the three and can tell which one Spider made and fight the urge to giggle. He has talent, but sometimes massacres his huntings, whether he did this on purpose or not I’m thankful to Eywa.

The next two are hard to tell as they’re on similar plates and dished the same. So I focus in depth on the one in the middle and notice it’s one of Lo’ak’s favorite fish to hunt and I want to look at the boy and thank him, but instead look up to Tsireya and smile.

“The one on the left.” I point to it and she smiles back.

“How do you know?” Tsireya asks.

“The cutting pattern is one he chooses often and he knows this is my favorite fish.” I hold a hand on my chest for sentimental value.

The party continued without a hitch and I started feeling hotter by the second before excusing myself while everyone was either drunk, picking at the food table, dancing, or even singing I managed to slide my feet in the water and felt myself cool down significantly.

“Enjoying your anniversary?” Lo’ak asks me as he comes up behind me.

“Sure. Just glad its you and not any nosey person asking me invasive questions. I had an elder ask me if he’s good in bed. I had to lie to someone about my non-existent sex life.”

Lo’ak lets out a laugh and places his arm around me. For being more human appearing than him he always treated me as an equal. I appreciate him for doing that, even if I wasn’t technically adopted alongside Kiri, he always called me his sister.

“What was in that drink?” I asked him and he shrugs.

“I thought you’d know, but I think Tsireya said something about it containing an aphrodisiac?” Lo’ak states and I laugh.

“Come on bro,”

“I’m deadass.”

“Even if it did, nothings coming out of it. He hates my guts.” I sigh and bring my knees to my chest.

“He can’t possibly hate you.”

“Yes he does! Every morning I wake up he’s not there. Every time before bedtime I set out his mat since he comes home after I’ve passed out- and I know this because I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and see him on the opposite side of the room dead asleep.”

“Okay but what about that time you said he cuddled you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” He asks.

_________

I lied shivering getting up frequently due to the cold air and having to pee. Ao’nung had come in quite late and I’d woken up for the upteenth time tired as hell and unable to warm myself up.

“Why do you keep getting up. Either stay up or stay asleep.” Ao’nung complains and turns around harshly. I didn’t bother responding as I figured sleep was more important than being petty.

But when I’d finally get comfortable and dozed off, I’d wake up with my teeth chattering and my body shaking, trying to keep warm.

“Aren’t you a half-breed? Why are you still making sounds!” He asks angrily.

“Because I’m still half human! I can withstand colder temperatures than humans can but not by much. Trust me when I tell you I’d much rather be held in captivity and tortured than to be here with you. At least they gave me blankets.” I grumble and get up to go pee once more.

I’d decided to take a long time returning but even when I’d figured he was asleep, as soon as I stepped inside he turned to face me, it looked like he might have been pacing- but I couldn’t be too sure. I’m just glad I went pee before coming back in.

“We do not have blankets right now, but we are often very warm. Maybe if I-“ He gulps. “If I held you, you would not be making noises with your teeth.” He explains.

_________

“Did you take him up on his offer?” Lo’ak asks and I push him.

“I had to. And the next day I asked your mom how the hell I could hand knit a blanket and she made a huge one, thinking it was for us to share. But I didn’t have to bother him on cooler nights again.

“But he did care for you, he came up with a solution.”

“A solution so he could get sleep and my teeth would stop chattering.” I roll my eyes.

“Okay but your favorite fish for today, explain that.” Lo’ak crosses his arms.

“I could easily tell Spider’s mutilation from yours.” I roll my eyes. “And He asked me two days ago what my favorite fish was. I know he hates when I take to long to explain myself- probably because he hates the sound of my voice, so I told him in one simple answer.”

“Did he tell you that?” Lo’ak asks.

_________

“I think I like the tulip thorn because of the way it glows at night. But the stem is also pretty with the way it wraps around and creates a mini shelter. Tuk and I used to take some leaves and tie them down to make a fort and-“

“It was a simple question. I don’t need a story attached to every answer you give me.” He stated harshly.

“Oh,” I state and do a little reflection and cringe at the many times I’d gone off on tangents while talking to him. Or the times when he’d straight up turned and walked out and I’d been left talking to myself for Eywa knows how long.

_________

“You could say that.” I answered back shortly as I didn’t want to bore yet another Na’Vi with my stories.

“Thats all you have to say?” He asks.

“I can tell you just about every negative encounter I had with him and they start from the moment I met him and lead up to this morning. I try to stay out of his way as much as possible. Its all he wants anyway.” I shrug.

“What if he didn’t?” He asks and I look at him wondering what joke he had in mind this time. Tears start to fill my eyes and threaten to fall.

“I don’t think I need a joke about my marriage, Lo’ak.” My voice wavers no matter how strong I wanted to sound.

“Hey, Hey, Hey-“ He’s quick to kneel in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders.

“I wish I could have a love story like you and Reya, or even your parents.”

“I wasn’t making a joke, I swear.”

“I can’t blame you. I’ll never know what its like to be loved.” The tears slide down my cheeks with ease. “I’m stuck with a mate who hates my guts and wishes I was a native with three fingers and three toes instead of this shit-“ I hold out my hands and wiggle my fingers.

_________

“I’m married to you for political appearance. Thats it. And the sooner you can accept that I’d much rather be with my own kind than a four-fingered-freak, the better it will be for you.”

“Don’t think I’m in love with you. You’re an asshole, a jerk, and a bully. Never in my life would I willingly choose someone like you.”

“Then don’t ask me about the status of our marriage anymore. You’re the least attractive thing I could ever lay my eyes on. I won’t ever love you, get that through your thick skull. The sooner the better.”

“You don’t even want to attempt a friendship with me?” I asked taken aback by his outburst.

“With you?” He asks and laughs bitterly. “I want nothing to do with you.” He gets in my face and pushes my chest with two of his fingers to make a point. But I’m not sure how strong he thought I was because he pushes me down. I fall flat on my ass and yelp. Something flashes in his eyes real quick.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t. I receive your message loud and clear.” I swat his hand away and I stand, making sure to walk away as fast as I can.

_________

“That can’t be true,” Lo’ak shakes his head after grabbing my hands with his.

“He might be hard headed but he will come to love you the way I love Tsireya, or how sickeningly my dad loves my mom, or how Spider loves Kiri.”

I hear someone clear their throat from behind myself and I pull my hands from Lo’ak’s and quickly wipe my tears off my face.

“I would like to speak to my mate. Alone.” My shoulders stiffen at his voice and my lower lip trembles.

“It’s okay Lo’ak. Go enjoy the party. I’m sure we’ll head back soon.” I stated as emotionless as possible and he looks between Ao’nung and myself before nodding toward me and walking back. I didn’t look back since I knew him and could hear the clap of his hand on Ao’nungs shoulder. I wish Neteyam were here to witness the amazing man and husband Lo’ak turned out to be for Tsireya.

“May I join you?”

“You requested to speak with me alone.” I stand as I say that.

“Please. Speak.” I state as I try rushing this along. I could feel myself getting warmer, although I’m sure its from the anger I was feeling at him at the moment.

“I-“ He starts speaking and stops. He looks down at the floor and kneels down, the most sincere apology in this clan. “I need to apologize for how I have treated you.”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle at the scenario in front of me and shake my head in disappointment. He furrows the skin where his eyebrows would be if he were human and studies my face.

“What is wrong?” He asks and I feel like a mad woman.

“You expect me to believe you mean that?” I ask him and he looks confused. He makes eye contact.

“You don’t care about me or my feelings, Ao’nung. You only care about your appearance. Tell me that isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you and how I have acted.” He states again and I feel the air being knocked out of my lungs as I let an audible quick exhale and couldn’t breathe in as he held eye contact.

“I have been nothing but ignorant to your needs and I want that to end. I want to get to know you. I want to learn about you.”

“I don’t know what kind of fun party juices you’ve been drinking but I’m not entertaining this. I’ll go talk to your mom and explain we haven’t bonded and you’ll be out of this union.” I start heading back toward the party.

“Please don’t,” He asks under his breath but I heard it, and stupidly turned around.

“This is what you wanted. I’m helping you. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” I scoff. “The girl you want is probably going to be over the moon when she hears you’re single and untouched.” I stated.

“I want you.” He states loudly. Still in his kneeling position.

“What?” I asked him and feel like the world has shifted. The party music had disappeared and it felt like we were the only ones on the beach. He stands and starts walking but picks me up and continues walking.

“I said I want you.” He looks directly in my eyes and holds my stare as he says that, then turns his head back to focus on where he’s going.

“Yeah I heard you the first time.” I uttered and I could feel something snap in my body. The warmth I felt earlier was in my lower belly and I felt the small zing of- no.

“Then why ask?”

“Because theres no way you- woah.” I stated as I looked to see his pupils were huge. Barely any blue coming through. And it took me until now to realize he’d walked us toward our marui pod.

“You smell so good.” He shoves his nose in between my neck and my shoulder and takes a whiff, and I squeak in surprise.

“Yeah its that soap I used when we-“

“Not that smell.”

“Fuck.” I muttered as his voice had gotten deeper for some reason. “What are you doing.” I asked as he had still not let me down.

“I’ve neglected you far too long.” He lays me down and I’m surprised to feel something soft underneath me. I could feel whatever effects of that stupid mystery drink turning me on and I laid there breathing heavily looking at his face.

“May I kiss you?” He asks and I’m too stunned to speak. I look down to his lips but quickly look back up toward his eyes.

“Why are you being nice? Is the juice affecting you too?” I asked and take my hand to feel his forehead since I’d been feeling warm too. He closes his eyes and-

“Are you purring?” I asked as he manages to nuzzle my hand and make it look like I’d been caressing his face.

“May I kiss you, yawne.” He asks again and his eyes are bearing into my soul.

“I don’t- I,” I struggle to even think this through as a flame fans through my body. “Yes.”

And his lips are on mine. He takes one of his hands and places it on my cheek and I instinctively place my hand on his arm. He prods his tongue out to stroke my lip and I squeal and nip at it. He chuckles before continuing to kiss me and peppers my face with kisses as he moves his kisses down my neck.

“Mm-“ I moan as he starts sucking my pulse point and failed to realize my legs wrapped around his waist- chest I suppose.

“Sit up.” I demand and he immediately does so.

“Am I hurting-“

“Shut it.” I stated and sit on his lap. I used my telekinesis to place his hands on my hips and forced his neck down and feverishly kiss him again. He’s fighting himself as I feel him tremble slightly and his grip on my waist only slightly tightens and I’m mildly upset.

“Move my hips on you, do something dammit.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters.

“I’ll tell you if you’ve hurt me by screaming in pain, what I need is friction- yes- holy shit-“ I cut myself off and notice just how big his package feels.

“Did I hurt you?” He stops.

“No, you just feel- huge. Oh my Eywa is it going to fit?” I ramble and he moves me back over his lap and I grunt.

“I pray it does.” He grunts before kissing down my neck once more. His hand trails up to untie my top and I pause.

“May I take this off?” He asks so sweetly and I bite my lip and nod. He pulls the fabric tying it together and it becomes loose, I slip out of it and he goes back to kissing me and I’m disappointed in his silence.

He smiles cockily when he comes up for air and I want to punch his face but he says the sweetest thing before I can form a fist.

“I’m the luckiest man on pandora.” He kisses down my chest and takes one nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue on my nipple.

“Ao’nung,” I moan as he pinches my other nipple.

“I like when you say my name like that.” He speaks directly to me, fully unashamed, and kisses my mouth.

His fingers trail down toward my ass, he cups my cheeks with his massive hands and kneads them, in the process he’s grinding me on his dick.

“Ao’nung-“ I moan again and try to push myself away from him but he takes my mouth into his and places the tip of his tongue in my mouth playfully stroking my own and I’m wet a hell from that action alone- and partly because of that juice.

“Yes, Yawne?”

“Take it off. Now.” I grunt and stand quickly without realizing his hand had already found the string and as I stood, my loincloth was untied and fell off.

“Yeah, luckiest man on Pandora.” He repeats his statement from earlier and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Have you ever-“ I stop myself from speaking and suddenly feel very self conscious.

“No.” He states fully and we both seem to be coming out of whatever the juice was doing to us- but only for a slight second.

“Have you?” He asks me and sits up.

“Never.” I admit and look away but feel my face being pulled back towards his in the gentlest way.

“We will learn with each other. We go as far as you want. I don’t want to pressure you to doing something you do not want.” He reassures me and kisses my lips again.

“So what now?” I asked him and he smiles.

“Lie down my sweet syulang.” He gently nudges me down and I follow his instructions. I can feel whatever flames were in my stomach before start to take over the nerves once again.

“Spread your legs.” He instructs and I follow and look up at the ceiling.

“Look at me, Yawne.” And I do. “You smell so sweet.”

“Wait, what are you-“ I ask before he licks a fat stripe on my pussy and I gasp.

He carefully wedges his tongue to spread my lips apart and I moan as he licks upward. He’s gently holding my thighs open but my hands felt empty. As if reading my mind his hands snake up to hold mine, the fists I once had were now warming up with his hands in them.

“Ao’nung rutxe, don’t st-ahh,” I’m the one letting his hands go and reach down toward his head and manage to tangle my fingers in there well enough to control his heads movements.

“You taste sweet, too.”

I now know why he’d held my thighs open earlier as I’m currently trying to suffocate him with them but the pleasure is too good and his tongue keeps circling on my clit and it all feels so good. And I feel something go in me at a gentle pace and the once building orgasm has muted as I feel it moving around.

“Ah-“ I open my eyes and look down to see he’s got one finger inside me and he’s staring me down. His finger stills but doesn’t pull out.

Does it hurt? He signs with his other hand

“N-no, just different, my fingers aren’t as thick as yours so this feels-“ I stop myself from rambling as he places a second finger in gently and I squeeze down hard.

“Ahh-“ I wince and try to withdraw but he stills my hips.

“Breathe, yawne. If I pull out now it could hurt worse, I will pull out if thats what you want but I’ve been told to tell you it gets better.”

“Told by who,”

“Is that really what you’re worried about?” He asks and I shake my head.

“It helps to forget the pain,”

“I can do that.” He immediately uses his thumb to circle my clit again and the pain subsides.

“Will it fit?” I ask again as his other hand is busy playing with my nipples.

“Yes.” He states but before I can ask if he’s sure he moves up to kiss me, and I just remembered how much bigger he was, yet he was being this gentle with me?

“Go faster my love,” I moan and connect out lips and start feeling pleasure from this experience. And he goes faster.

“Yes that spot, hit that again,” I clench my teeth at the overwhelming feeling I’m getting from his fingers and he smiles.

“Whatever you say, my love,” He smiles genuinely and it melts my heart. He leans down to kiss me again.

“Yes go faster, rutxe,”

“You don’t have to say that for me to go faster. You say and I’ll do. Always.” He says while going faster

“Kiss me.” And he kisses me.

“Again-“ He kisses me again.

“Mate with me,”

He unties his loincloth with one hand and slips out of it easily and the sight of his penis has my eyes widening. He tells me he’s going to slide his fingers out and does so but my eyes are on something else entirely.

“Theres blood on my fingers-“ He stares at his fingers in horror.

“Thats normal- for me.” I take his hand and hold it close to my chest. “On Earth, when you have sex for the first time, this happens. The custom- a long time ago- used to be to do this for the first time in your wedding night with the person you love.”

“It is a sign of loyalty?” Ao’nung questions and I nod.

“It’s like tsaheylu.”

“Then let us complete our custom.” He grabs his braid and brings it forward, his white tendrils moving in all directions.

“Are you certain?” I ask him and he smiles, giving me a peck real quick. He grabs my braid for me but before connecting looks me directly in my eyes.

“Are you certain?” He’s asking so sweetly while making sure our braids don’t connect.

“Yes.”

And the feeling itself is euphoric. My pupils are blown wide I’m sure, I could slightly feel them getting larger. I can feel how fast Ao’nung is breathing and can feel the strain of his cock as if the feeling were my own. I could feel how his heart was beating and the same warmth had settled over his own belly.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” Ao’nung states breathlessly.

“I love you, too.” I respond in english

It’s like he understood what I meant as he leans down to kiss me and manages to settle me in missionary. He lifts his head up and looks down between us and back up at me. I nod and feel him start to get nervous.

“It’s okay.” I place a hand on his cheek and gingerly stroke it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Have I screamed in pain at any point?” I ask and he smiles, kissing me again. He looks down between us and places his cock in his hands and guides it in slowly. I could feel my body clenching in anticipation and I shut my eyes harshly.

“Shit.” I grunt and squeeze harder when I feel the head sliding in slowly. The stretch burned real bad and at this point I stopped breathing.

“Breathe my love,” He gently strokes my clit after stopping just after his head had been pushed in.

“Ma’nung, you’re big.” I groan and throw my head back as the subtle sparks of him rubbing my clit start to fan the flames more.

“You’re so tight I might burst too soon.” He strains and I start to relax.

“Thats a compliment on Earth-“ I try to laugh and he slaps my thigh.

“Ahh!” I whine and he goes back to rubbing my clit and I moan immediately after.

“I’m going to keep pushing-“ He starts and as he does I can feel a sense of fullness but also his length dragging heavily on my g-spot and I moan.

“If you don’t move some more, I will cut your penis off.” I threaten and I can tell he’s confused by the sudden change of pace but I know he can feel what I feel.

“Shit, is that me?” He asks and I open my eyes to see him biting his lip, one of his fangs poking out, I look down myself and see a small bulge moving in my lower belly.

“Yes thats you-“ I moan as he’d started sliding out and his cock continues rubbing against my G-spot, it feels like the many orgasms I brought myself to happening all at once.

“Go faster-“ I whine and he does, snapping his hips at a steady pace and it feels so damn good.

“Faster-“ and he follows my command, not once questioning me.

“You’re swallowing me so easily, you feel so soft rubbing all over, and your stomach is- fuck-“ He cuts himself off and seems unsure of where to stare, at my pussy swallowing his cock or at my stomach as it plays peek-a-boo with him.

“Yawne, I’m too close-“

“I’m coming Ao’nung-“ I whine and feel myself spasm around his cock as I blubber on some stupid Na’Vi mixed with english non-sense.

Not once had he stopped thrusting his hips and the feeling of my orgasm continuously being stroked on had started what felt like the build of another one.

“Cock so good I’m coming twice-“ I groan in English and he starts whining himself. I never knew Na’vi men were vocal, and for some reason, the question can I come? Kept replaying in my head. Realizing I was still connected to Ao’nung I reach my hand up and pat his arm and he opens his eyes, lust evident on his face.

“You can come my love-“

The look of relief washed over his face but I could still feel like he was holding back. More of his thoughts flood my mind.

“Do it.” I confirm and he leans his whole body over mine, hitting spots I thought he was hitting before, quite literally fucking me so dumb I forgot my own name. His thrusts feel even more powerful at this angle and he bites the skin between my neck and my shoulder. His come washes over the both of us as I have my second orgasm and massage the spurts of come from his dick, coaxing more to come out with every wave of pleasure I felt. He lazily kisses me and pulls out, I hiss from the sting of his fat head stretching me open.

“Come here-“ Ao’nung quite literally lifts me to lay on his chest as we both catch our breath.

“I meant it.” He says while lazily stroking my back, but he didn’t have to explain, we were still connected, I already knew.

“I do too.” I sigh and lean into his chest to listen to his heart beat lulling me to sleep.

_________

I wake up and realize my body is being caged in but I felt warm and comfortable so I stayed snuggled up in what I thought was my blanket.

“Good, you’re awake.”

My eyes have never snapped open so quick after hearing that voice. His morning after voice was deep and sensual and it had me tingling. I look up to see that it was still dark.

“It’s not morning yet.” I groan and get comfortable again.

“Yes, my love, but I need some assistance.” He states as if he were straining and I turn my head to see him struggling with another boner.

“Oh my-“ I turn quickly. “- how long have you been dealing with that!” I asked and he whines.

“You’ve spent the entire time grinding me while you slept, I didn’t want to wake you, but we mate up to three times during one session.” He tries saying it in a nice way but I understood what he meant.

“Slide it in next time.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“I know, Ma’nung, but nothing better than waking up to an orgasm, or being loved on.” I stated while sliding one leg up, still laying sideways.

Ao’nung is hesitant, but we were still connected by our bond too. I was surprised.

“I forgot you have a fat head-“ I groan as he slides it in and gives me time to adjust but also feeling instant relief to be back inside me. The hand underneath my waist snakes over to rub my clit as he pumps pathetically inching in very slowly, but I could feel what he felt.

“Come inside my love-“ I moan as he comes inside for the second time tonight, letting him continue thrusting lazily while sliding across my G-spot.

“You feel so warm, so good, I can’t get enough.” He groans while continuing the same movement and I could feel him getting hard again.

“Is this why your mom is pregnant for the sixth time?” I asked and he ignores me but wraps his hands around my body, pulling me closer to him.

“Can I come again, my love?” He asks while his thrusts are becoming more powerful.

“How many more times can you come tonight?” I asked and start meeting his thrusts in the middle, feeling the familiar sensation about to snap in my belly.

“As many times as it takes to make you round with child, I can’t wait to see you waddle with my life inside of you-“

“Fill me to the brim,” I groaned as he continues thrusting while imagining myself pregnant with his children. But the mental images he was seeing began flashing in my mind and he wanted to fuck me while pregnant, pushing my body past its limits and taking me in every position.

“Come my love-“ He grunts in my ear and all I can do is squeeze around his cock and moan loudly.

_________

“You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?” He teases while thrusting in my cunt ever so slowly while he held me against the tree.

“No,” I try to stay quiet but he only slaps his big hand over my mouth.

He’d decided to fish on the docks today instead of following a hunting party and when he’d finish casting his third net full of fish he’d told the guys he was with that he’d be back in a few. I’d been picking seashells with his mom and sister when he called me away and lead me to where we were.

“You’re such a pathetic thing, Yawne,” He glides his dick over my G spot effortlessly and I’m a mess, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Eyes on me, my love, I want to see what I do to you.” He smiles cockily and I whine loud enough for him to hear.

“I want to come-“

“No.” He states firmly and slides his cock back in. “Be good for me and we’ll see if you deserve to come, my love.”

“Kiss me-“ I demand and he leans in, gently taking in the back of my neck and kissing me sweetly.

“G-go faster-“ I pant as he does and my eyes roll back.

“Come my love, come.” Ao’nung instructs me and I bite my lip as I release myself all over his cock.

“No don’t pull out,” I hold on to his hand tightly as if thats where I needed to hold him.

“We have to go back and-“

“I need you, Ma’nung,” I complain and he smirks.

“Of course, how could I have been so dumb,” He states and starts thrusting even faster.

“Ah!” I moaned and he slaps his hand over my mouth again.

“How can something so small be so loud?” He groans in my ear while he thrusts into me. My toes were curling as if they had a mind of their own and he was only holding me by my waist with one hand, he’s so fucking strong.

“How can someone so big be so big-“ I groan as he resorts to moving me up and down on his cock.

“I want to torture this orgasm out of you, my love. I want to make you the same babbling mess you were last night.” His voice was deeper and he was starting to grunt with every thrust. His hand came down from my mouth and stroked my clit lazily.

“Please let me come-“

“No.”

“Thats what you said earlier and you still let me-“ I whine and he forcefully grabs my cheeks to pull my face closer toward his.

“You cum when you only know my name and nothing else.”

I squeezed on him harder.

“You like when I’m rough with you, huh.” He places his hand on my chest and I grab it and place it on my neck without flinching and gently squeezes the sides and I could feel myself squeezing his cock once more.

“No, I w-wan- come.”

“Not dumb enough my love.”

_________

“Is anything off lim-limi- limits with y-you?” I asked as he thrusts under the water while his thick cock glides in and out of me.

“No. Never.” He groans before going faster. “You’ll be the death of me, now shut up and come.” He states while circling my clit.

“I don-don’t wanna-“ I whine but was to sensitive to hold on any longer.

“Yes you do, I can feel it. And not because we’re connected.”

_________

“Yawne please!” Ao’nung cries as I slide down further.

I’d mentioned riding once and he had been asking every single day if we could try it, but I wasn’t sure how feasable it would be, only because he’s huge and the thigh strength I’d need would need to come fro Eywa herself.

“This isn’t easy for me either!” I groan and completely slid down his cock and met his hips. Realization hits me as he hugs my body into his own.

“No you better not-“

“I’m coming~” He moans in my ear and it triggered my own orgasm.

_________

“Quiet my love.” Ao’nung shushes me.

“Please,” I beg and he thrusts harshly into me and I moan again.

“I love you-“ He states in English.

“Nga yawne lu oer-“ I whine back as he circles my clit with his thumb. He slams back in again.

“I like seeing you fucked dumb, my love.” He responds in English again and I’m going crazy.

“How bad do you want to come?” He asks in Na’vi and I can’t comprehend the question at all and babble some nonsense.

“I need you to come, sweet girl.” He coo’s and covers my mouth to muffle my sounds with his own in a deep heated kiss.

“Thats it, my love,” He coo’s as he joins me, still managing to gently caress my cheeks at his highest point of euphoria.

_________

“Have you told her it was an aphrodisiac?” Neytiri asks and Lo’ak rolls his eyes.

“Yes Ma’am.” He replies.

“Good.” Ronal states while working on cutting the fruit she had.

“Was this necessary?” Tsireya asks while sneaking a couple of the fruit pieces for herself since she was expecting.

“All the necessary, my sweet girl.” Ronal stated to her daughter.

“If not for that small lie they would not be sneaking around horribly and procreating like they are.” Neytiri points out.

“They’re sneaking around in public and doing that?” Taireya’s eyes widen In shock and Lo’ak laughs.

“Of course they are. Just the other day, Ao’nung said he couldn’t come hunting because he had to pick some tulip thorns from the tree’s for her. They grow in the ground.”

Ronal laughs at this too and shakes her head.

“Maybe she will become pregnant soon like us.” Kiri happily continues creating medicine or saves from the peels of the fruit.

“Human male and Hybrid Na’vi can procreate. Lets see if Na’vi nale and hybrid Na’vi can do the same.” Ronal smiles.

“I believe they can. Our world is changing.” Neytiri comments.

[starcharmed]

"Nothing's New"

In which your partner is never going to pay attention to you, because they’re too focused on their dead lover

Bell’s notes: “writer bell goes too far with this fic-” im /j no ones gonna say that, angst powers pls work tho, like im asdlkfjawel;fjsd;jf;lska, i cant write dude, let me like, plan this out in my head before writing nonsense, LIKE BRO, feral over angst LORD, 100k likes and you get part 2 /jjjj, growling i love angst, MWHAHAHA, sorry ely, yuka, mhie, snob, and zee if you read this 😔😔😔, i listened to “IT Girl” while writing this 😋, got carried away with Ayato’s part oopsies, i believe Guizhong for the ladies but whatever 😔😔😔, cut out Wanderer & Childe in the end because i’m TIRED, not proofread

Story details: Ayato lowkey a bitch, scratch that highkey, reader has self-doubt, Neuvilette doesn’t mean to be mean he just ISSS, GUIZHONG DID NOTHING STOP MAKING HER THE ONE IN BLAME IN THESE ZHONGLI SCENARIOS, oh and I couldn’t be bothered with Xiao’s part like a quarter through he’s such a flexible yet straight character, it’s the way you can tell when I got lazy with each part, chance Xiao & Zhongli are gonna be ooc as i’ve never written anything but short headcanons for them before

Characters & Triggers: Ayato, Neuvilette, Xiao, & Zhongli;  reader has self-doubt, mention of death, mention of martial neglect

Reader details: female reader in Ayato’s part is explicit. female reader in Neuvilette’s part can be interpreted with the way you read it. the other parts, however, shouldn’t have a specified reader type. reader’s personality, race/ethnicity, height, physical descriptions, or anything of the sort is not mentioned. if anything is let me know and i’ll edit it. 

Ayato: No surprise the Yashiro Commissioner doesn’t pay attention to his new wife, the one that he didn’t marry first. You knew that he didn’t love you, and most likely never would because you were, in fact, the second pick. Actually, it was probably in the hundreds based on the amount of marriage arrangement offers Ayato had gotten considering he was one of the biggest figures in Inazuma. It didn’t matter, but he most likely picked you because your clan was a small one to put it lightly, so he most likely chose it, and you, because it wouldn’t be a hassle with the press. But of course, he would choose the person and clan that seemed, “easy”. It hurt seeing some of the people’s sympathetic stares, such as Ayaka’s, Thoma’s, and a few of the older women working in the estate. You got used to the lack of greeting from Ayato when he got off work, the lack of warmth beside you at night. You found it hilarious, although you were hysteric at the time as you had just found out that Ayato was off that day and neglected to see you, that he never, ever laid down in the same bed as you. It doesn’t matter no matter how hard you work around the estate, how long you sit up doing his work, which you soon quit once he yelled at you like a homeless dog, or even the distinct flower you made out of one of Ayato’s favorite sweets that he ignored. Not even a glance at your general direction, either. After a while, you decided to do some digging on his past wife, only to find out that she was in fact near perfect. Perfect reputation, perfect everything, to put it shortly. Shortly after asking Ayaka what happened to her, by pulling the sad, guilty wife card, you found out she was a victim of an assassination attempt that turned into a success. Of course, Ayato and his perfect wife would only be torn apart by death. It was poetic, and it made you sick. So what were you to do but endure the slow torture that you and Ayato’s marriage was? After all, nothing you could do could change how he felt about you. 

Neuvillette: The famous hydro dragon, at least to those who knew his ‘secret’. His past lover, unfortunately, died before him, no doubt to his immortality. Of course, you would soon die, maybe in a few decades but, hey, it wasn’t like he would miss you. You could only wait awake at night as Neuvillette went to fix himself his own meal, despite you staying up to cook him one and await for his return from work. It’s not that was the only time he never paid attention to you, after all the man had most likely been grieving his wife for centuries at this point in time. So what were you to do besides stay and watch this man be emotionally constipated around you? Why did he even marry you in the first place, then? It couldn’t be because his past wife resembled you, and it certainly wasn’t because you both acted the same. Was it because he needed someone to cling to? I mean, you weren’t exactly someone who seemed to not fit the criteria of a compassionate co-worker who would comfort Neuvillette in his times of distress. Did Neuvilette only come to you because you were his way of grieving? It would make partial sense, to cling to the nearest piece of comfort to help with the pain of loss. It made you feel like nothing but an object meant for his emotional wants, but in reality, that’s all you ever are and will ever be to him. 

Xiao: The famous adeptus long ago, had someone close to him. Shame they fell to waste during the archon wars, along with the other adepti. It was no surprise that everyone familiar with Liyue stories knew about the two of them together, which unfortunately included you. It didn’t pain you that much until your oh-so-loveable boyfriend got distracted by two kids playing with a Xiao lantern and one of her. After that, it only devolved into more. The lack of visits to your room in the inn, the lack of responses whenever you left your little notes for him near your meet-up place, and the extreme lack of thank-you-notes whenever you left Xiao almond tofu. It didn’t matter that you started to skip and completely ignore doing all of these things just to see if he would notice because the adeptus failed to appear in your room just to check in to see if you were okay. This behavior was unlike him, at least in the sense of him completely ignoring you. The only answer you could think of, that logically made sense, of course, was that he was reminded of his past loved one because of the run-in with the lanterns you two had while out in Liyue. So in terms, he seemed to disconnect with you because of the memories of his past significant other? You knew the adepti didn’t die peacefully, you could tell that much from the stories, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that also applied to Xiao’s past lover. There was nothing you could do about it though, because if you knew Xiao, he wouldn’t talk about her to you nor push her aside for you.

Zhongli: Guizhong. Of course, you were familiar with the name, everyone in Liyue was. Everyone might be a stretch considering the visitors and children, but the point’s been made. Morax and Guizhong were close. Close in a sense of possibly having relationship affairs but that was only explicit to you because of the way your lover would glace at glaze lilies. You couldn’t call him your lover, could you? Not with the way he would hum to the glaze lilies, the way his eyes would also drift away from you whenever you talked as you took strolls through Guilu Plains, and the way he would opt to tell stories of specific tales of his time as Morax, ones that included Guizhong in some way. It got to the point where you had to make up tasks that you had to do daily just to get away from the walks you two took, not to hear the different-yet-similar stories of Morax and totally not Guizhong. It was childish of you to be doing so, you had yourself convinced, as you couldn’t blame Guizhong for any of it. She had no part of this besides well, besides being your number one stressor for the past few weeks. It was tiring yet somehow for the sake of not wanting a glare or side-eye from Zhongli about his stories, which you never thought you’d get that tired of hearing, you kept your mouth shut, despite how hard it was. You knew it would only take so much more, though, before you said something about it. 

[moonshynecybin]

honeysuckle: how our love unites enemies

honeysuckle:

scream okay i just edited some of airport au before getting these so it was rattling around in my head. and this ask made me think it would be funny if casey stoner showed up. so here. bad comedy. for those who do not remember last we left marc “the weirdest rumor i ever heard about myself was that i was gay” marquez, he had just had a sex dream about valentino rossi, who has recentlyish decided to be his friend again. as you can imagine he’s a bit confused about all this:

Marc decides that he should probably avoid Valentino for a while, after a dream like that. Get some distance and get his head on straight.

The problem is, Valentino apparently very much does not want to avoid Marc.

It’s in the chaos of the flyaways, that long slog at the end of the season, and Marc doesn’t have anything to prove at this point except for all the different things that he does, and it’s Phillip Island, a track where he can make a difference. He knows he has an opportunity where he can really sink his teeth into something here.

All said, it’s his favorite track, he’s looking forward to the weekend— and he’s really looking forward to approximately 9,000 miles between him and Valentino Rossi and his long fingers.

Which of course means that when he wheels around a corner on his scooter that Friday, he doesn’t expect to see Vale standing next to the media center with a day old scruff decorating the cut of his jaw and Casey goddamn Stoner bitching away about aero at his elbow.

Marc, shocked and in his raincoat, applies the brake to his scooter in an acute fashion and skids a little, motocross style.

Vale, under his neon yellow umbrella and always attracted to the sound of screeching rubber, sees him.

He starts walking.

Horrifically, Casey follows.

Marc smiles.

“I’ve been cornered.”

“Put your hands up in the name of the law,” Vale says in a terrible imitation of a cowboy, and then greets him. “Ah, you are ready for tomorrow?”

Marc nods before he can tell his neck what to do.

“Looks like no practice today, and more rain,” What would he normally say to Valentino. Well, normally he wouldn’t say anything. So that’s probably not a viable strategy.

“That’s good for you, yes?” Vale says, blue eyes intent on him, like he’s genuinely interested.He steps close to Marc, including him under his umbrella, and Marc tightens his fingers hard on the handlebars of the scooter. “Less practice for others and then— with the rain, easier to catch? A left-hand circuit, so you have more room to outpace the factory bikes.”

Casey, walking slowly, arrives in time to catch the tail end of Vale’s statement, and his eyebrows twitch up, gaze ping-ponging back and forth between them.

Marc waves.

Vale, though blunt, is not wrong, and Marc will take a win in the wet of it comes to that, but the forecast clears as the weekend progresses, and the thing he’s really missing so far this year is a clean win. No wet, no sand, just him and the motorcycle and everyone else behind him. The GP23, despite being unequivocally weaker after he exploded in Indonesia and they removed his improved flywheel, is still a bike that he has enough experience on that he can use his style a bit more and manipulate it the way he needs to, so the parts change hasn’t made too much of an impact on his pace. Plus, this is also one of Pecco’s more mediocre tracks, something he knows that Vale knows but will never say to Marc. Honestly, if it’s not for Pecco or the floundering VR46 team squad (unlikely), he has no idea why Vale is here. Maybe Casey invited him to do some dirt track.

He opens his mouth to twist all this into something shiny enough that it can be outwardly verbalized to two other world champions when Casey, so far neglected by Vale, speaks.

“Wow. You know, I really didn’t believe it.”

They pause.

“That you two had made up again, I mean,” He throws a thumb Vale’s way. “I thought this one would take it to his grave, he’s good at that.”

Marc hits him with a weak smile and Vale doesn’t even look over, eyes still on Marc and whatever he sees on his face.

Casey seems to notice, and a divot appears between his eyebrows. Marc scrambles to find something to say that will make this interaction end in the next ten seconds.

“Um, so what convinced you that he wasn’t evil?” Casey asks. So much for that dream.

“Same thing that convinced me that you weren’t,” Vale quips.

“Jury’s still out, then?”

Vale puts a hand on Marc’s shoulder and laughs at Casey beatifically. “Ah, no. Maybe he is just prettier than you? Better in bed, you know.”

Marc laughs, high and shrill, and Casey and Vale both turn to look at him.

“Okay, Marc?” Casey asks, and Marc nods. It’s a normal joke— it’s the kind Vale’s made before. About him, about Jorge Lorenzo, probably about Casey. If 20 year old Marc were here right now, he would just be thrilled that Vale was teasing Casey and using Marc to do it. That idiot would sit here and smile and think about women when he went home to jack off and go on with his day. No such pleasures for 31 year old Marc.

He swallows. He hasn’t responded quick enough. Vale’s eyes narrow, and Marc feels horribly exposed. He’s gotta get out of here.

“Yeah, yeah. Something in my throat, you know? Gresini— uh, they need me in the box, I have to go over something. For tomorrow, the sprint. So. I should go. It was nice seeing you both, I’ll see you later— “

He punches the gas, and as they scramble away from the scooter to avoid getting any toes caught in the crossfire, he zooms away before he can hear their responses.

When Vale’s hand slides off of Marc’s shoulder as he accelerates, the places where his fingers touched Marc burn all the way back to the garage.

[hyuckiefluff]

Hey so I hv request! Really love the way you write♡ ok so mark is on adrenaline high frm the concert and is really touch starved and really just wants to fuck his gf! Established realtionship y/n and Mark, feel free to add your magic, thank you!!!

a/n: thank u for the nice words and for sending in this req!! this is exactly what i needed to get back into the mood cuz i’ve (once again) been neglecting my writing lol but anyway when i read this the first thing i thought of was quiet down hence the pic :)

ps: requests are still open btw (still got a lot of them to go through but feel free to send in more) i usually do them in order of which one inspires me the most so even if you send rn i might get to it first!

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

content warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, slight choking, brief mention of blood, mark is sex starved so he goes a bit crazy, ass groping, handjob (m. receiving), cum eating yeah ik ik i keep writing this but i can’t stop sawry, big c0ck mark!! barely any prep or aftercare (they don’t have time!!!) basically just a messy & needy quickie backstage.

masterlist

Mark was losing his mind. 

Why?

All because you placed him on a week-long sex ban in an attempt to prepare him for the upcoming tour. He knew you were just trying to help him adjust to being away from you, but it felt like torture.

Everything was fine at first, or at least Mark was doing a great job pretending. But as the first week neared its end, his resolve started to crumble. Today, in particular, he was extremely horny for no reason.

...Well, he actually did have a reason and it was the picture you sent him this morning, wearing the new underwear he had gifted you  'They fit perfectly, Markie ;)'.

And as if that wasn’t enough, you showed up to his show wearing his favorite skirt—the very one you knew he always fucked you in. He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit.

Either way, it was definitely working, because when you leaned in for a kiss, he caught a glimpse of your underwear in the mirror's reflection and and he had to fight against every part of himself to not moan right then.

To make matters worse, you were still wearing the black lace panties he had gifted you.

By the time he stepped on stage, he was already painfully hard. What kind of pervert gets turned on in front of an audience just because his girlfriend accidentally flashed him? Well, apparently, Mark Lee did.

But he didn't care about looking like a desperate, sex-starved fool. 

So as soon as the VCR started playing and they had to change outfits, he made a beeline for you backstage. Ignoring the protests of staff and confused band members telling him he only had 10 minutes to get ready he grabbed your arm and pulled you through the crowd.

“That’s more than enough time,” he muttered under his breath. Despite your persistent attempts to ask where he was taking you, Mark didn’t stop until you were hidden away in a dark, secluded corner behind the stage.

"Mark, what's going on? Are you okay?" You inspected him with concern in your eyes, checking for any injuries.

"Ah...fuck... I have a really big problem," he groaned.

"What's wrong?" But you quickly understood the issue when he pulled up his shirt, revealing the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he looked like a child in need of help was too endearing. "Aw, did I do this to you?"

"It's not funny," he protested, suddenly invading your personal space. "I need you to fix it." His forehead pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your sides and gripping your hips to press you firmly against his body, your lower abdomen coming in contact with his hard on.

"Of course, baby" you replied, ready to kneel down, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm. You looked at him confused, and the stage lights cast an angle that highlighted his pleading eyes. They were glossy with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he murmured, his voice strained and raspy.

The idea of having backstage sex at his concert with just about seven minutes left before he had to return to the stage felt crazy. But there was something about it that turned you on beyond explanation.

So, you cupped his face and kissed him hard enough that your teeth clashed with his lips, but not even the slight taste of blood stopped you from devouring each other’s mouth. Mark quickly matched your intensity, his tongue wasting no time exploring every corner of your mouth. Every time he nibbled on your lips, it elicited little gasps from you. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, pressing you firmly against his bulge, a clear reminder that he was about to explode down there.

You started to undo his pants, the friction of his erection against the fabric made him suck in air through his teeth. He broke away from your lips, allowing you to pull down his pants. His boxers were already stained with pre-cum, and when you lowered them, his dick looked at you flushed and angry. You bit your lip, his size always made you clench your thighs in anticipation.

Before you could even touch him, he turned you around and that’s when you realized you were pressed against one of the glass boxes from their performance.

"Mark..." you moaned his name when you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance. There was no time for much preparation so when he slowly pushed his hips forward, a string of curses left his lips at the tightness.

"Fuuuck..." he groaned when your walls clenched around him relentlessly. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned against the box for support

“God, you feel so good” His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his lips kissing your shoulder before he whispered that he was going to start moving. You nodded weakly.

His pace started out slow, but there was an undeniable urgency in each motion. His hand moved from your hips to your neck, gripping you softly and pulling you closer with every deep thrust. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and with every kiss and nibble, you couldn't help but clench around him, making his hand close tighter against your throat. This pattern continued for a while, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Please..." you whimpered, and he grunted softly against your neck.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked.

"More, please, I need more," you moaned, feeling his grin against your neck.

He wasted no time. His thrusts quickened, and you couldn't help but release soft gasps and moans with each movement. You leaned forward against the box, your breath fogging up the glass, feeling it tremble beneath you as he continued fucking into you harder. Mark was losing himself, or perhaps he already had; he was rutting against you as if he was an animal in heat.

"M-mark... I'm close," you mewled, not sure if he even heard you amidst the loud cheers.

"Mhm, me too," he moaned, his voice strained. 

It only took a few more thrusts and you were spent, moaning and mumbling incoherently as he helped you ride your orgasm.

 "Fuck, it's gonna be messy if I cum inside you," he realized, slowing his movements.

He was right… he wasn't wearing a condom so as soon as he pulled out, it would definitely drip down your legs. And there wasn’t anything nearby to clean you up with.

"Pull out," you said, and you could see his confusion from the corner of your eye. Nonetheless, he did as told. His hand was already on his dick, ready to take care of himself, but when you knelt down, it was as if his body glitched momentarily.

Your hands replaced his, applying just the right amount of pressure in your strokes to evoke that familiar sensation building in his gut. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your makeup slightly smudged from tears and sweat. The sight was incredibly hot, and just when he was about to cum, you opened your mouth, catching all of his release. Some of it trickled down your throat. The whole scene, along with the sounds you made while swallowing, had Mark almost in tears from the sheer intensity of the moment.

After swallowing every drop, you stood up, adjusting your panties and casually licking a remnant from the corner of your lips, all while maintaining eye contact with Mark. He watched you in stunned silence, still catching his breath. You chuckled when he remained frozen for a good 10 seconds, pulling him close gently and zipping up his pants. In that moment, you heard his voice.

“Please come on tour with me,” he begged, his eyes wide with hope. You just smiled and kissed him.

“Where’s Mark?! You guys are up in 2 minutes!” The staff's frantic shouts pulled you both back to reality. You exchanged a glance and burst into giggles like a pair of teenagers.

i think i might be shadowbanned guys so interact with this post if u enjoyed it pls &lt;3

[thoseprettywords]

Summary: You're at the height of success in your career as a psychologist, but your latest patient has proved to be worth more trouble than you're able to take on.

Word Count: 2438

TW: Cussin, Stalking, Guns, Sex, Mental Health

AN: I’m an old hoe in this writing game, auntie don’t know all these acronyms and new lingo. If you’re under 18, you shouldn’t be here anyway. That being said, MINORS DNI.

Weeks passed since you had been able to spend any quality time with your husband. This new client of yours had you working overtime, putting every credit you earned for your psychology degree to use. Trinity Harrison was a real piece of work. She was a beautiful girl– capable, successful, and driven. She knew right from wrong, but still chose to take the most delusional, dramatic jumps from the tallest cliffs her mind could climb.

Trinity had been ordered to see you by a judge in lieu of spending 3 years in jail for attempted manslaughter. Her lawyer must’ve had a mighty tongue or some deep connections to sway the judge. You had never met someone so delusional, so you were up for the challenge. If you could get through to Trinity, you had truly found your calling.

Trinity Harrison was a young, vibrant soul that viewed the world through rainbow-colored glasses. On New Year's Eve the previous year, she met a guy who was visiting her hometown in upstate New York and ended up ‘pursuing her Christmas love story’ by booking a one-way flight and completely uprooting her life only to find out he was engaged. Instead of taking her L in stride, she became obsessed with replacing his fiance… by any means necessary. Which is exactly how her files ended up on your desk. In a blind rage, she spotted the fiance walking her dog and ran her down with her car. Thankfully, no major injuries occurred.

You were coming up on a year of treating Trinity with no real progress. This ate at you. You had graduated top of your class, opened your own private practice, and had a high-success rate within your clientele. 

“Dr. Richmond.” Your assistant poked her head into your office drawing your attention from the thick file in your hands. “It’s 7:00.” 

Briefly, you racked your brain trying to recall the significance of the time. Shit. You forgot.

“Thank you Brittany. Tell Terry I’m sorry and I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” You slid the file into a secure drawer and gathered your belongings. This was the third time you’d forgotten about meeting Terry for a date night. You knew he would not be pleased.

Once you arrive home, you slip into the shower eager to wash away the stress of the day. You step out of the shower and notice that Terry has laid out a red dress and a small mystery box. You giggle as you unwrap the box to reveal a pair of vibrating panties, and of course the remote was missing.

You valet your car and enter your favorite restaurant, immediately locking eyes with Terry who stands to greet you as you approach the booth. He leans down and meets your lips with a tender kiss. 

“Hey baby. I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s this–” Terry cuts you off, knowing that you were about to say the one name he told you he didn't want to hear tonight. Once you’re seated, he reaches across the table to grab your hands. 

“Baby, I have waited weeks to spend this time with you tonight. It’s been weeks since I’ve tasted you, felt you.” 

The guilt settles in your stomach as you reminisce on how things were earlier in your relationship. You vowed to make time for each other, to listen to one another, and to cater to one another’s needs. You’ve neglected him, but he wasn’t giving up so easily. 

A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the vibrating sensation from the panties.

“Are you listening to me Mrs. Richmond?” Terry asked while expertly toying with the settings of the remote, nearly sending you over the edge. 

“Y-yes Ter- Terry. We’re i-in public. Why–” 

Terry leaned in, lowering his voice so that only you could hear. “Because you’re fucking playing with me woman. I haven’t fucked you in 3 weeks! I- I thought you were cheating on me with that Trinity bitch the way you’re never available for me anymore. Are you sure she’s the only one with an obsessive disorder?” The break in his voice almost breaks you. His mood had soured and he switched the panties off. You find yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Look. At. Me.” Terry commanded through gritted teeth. You sheepishly look up to meet his eyes. 

You’re interrupted by the waitress delivering the meals Terry had ordered prior to your arrival. Tension and silence filled the air between you as you dug into your meals. It was hard to ignore the glare coming from those icy blue-ish-gray eyes. You find yourself searching for the right words to say, but fail to think of anything that would satisfy his agitation. Failure was never an option for you, yet here you were on the brink of failing your marriage and your pain in the ass patient. There was only one thing to do.

You catch Terry’s hand as you both walk into the dark house. You run your hand down the length of his torso as you drop to your knees. “Baby, you have every right to be mad at me,” you admit as you undo his belt, “but I’m gonna make you feel like the king you are.”

You glance up to see his jaw tense with anticipation before spitting on the tip of his dick. You silently said a prayer knowing that no mercy would be shown. Your neglect created this monster and you didn’t need another failure on your plate, not tonight. 

Without another word, Terry grips your head with his massive hands and begins mercilessly stroking your mouth. Tears blur your vision, but you focus on your breathing while steadying yourself. The tension between you slowly melts away and is quickly replaced with a carnal lust. He pulls your head back by grabbing a handful of your hair forcing you to look at him. 

“Y/N, I could be out here fucking any woman I want. It’s so fucking tempting, but I–” He squints in the darkness unsure if he'd heard something. 

“What is it baby?” You ask, turning around to see what might’ve caught his attention. Terry shrugs it off and he guides you upstairs to the bedroom. Your punishment was far from over. Terry sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap. He peels the dress over your perfectly toned ass. You brace yourself waiting for his hefty hand to smack your ass. Instead you feel his lips on the small of your back causing you to arch. In one swift motion, he rips your panties and flings them across the room. He kneels behind you, pulling your ass to his face with a deep inhale. 

“I want tonight to be a reminder of everything you fell in love with and what you stand to lose.” 

You were in no mood to hear any words. You needed to feel his mouth. You ease back only for Terry to grab you by your ass to hold you in place. You hear him chuckle. “I’ve waited three weeks. You can wait 3 fucking seconds, y/n.”

You open your mouth to respond but the words escape you as Terry simultaneously plunges his thick thumb in your asshole as his tongue viciously flicked your hypersensitive clit. You went from a 4.0 GPA college graduate to a babbling twit in a matter of seconds. You could feel him grinning like a Cheshire cat listening to you struggle to form a single word. 

“Not yet.” Terry abruptly stops just as you’re about to reach your peak. It blew your mind the way he just knew your body. Not a second later, you felt the tip of his dick at your entrance, teasing you. You crane your neck to look back at him as you plead with your eyes. You both moan in pleasure as he slowly fills you. You were grateful that he was giving you time to adjust. “Terry…” You moan while grinding on his dick. “Fuuuuuck!” He roared while expertly navigating your walls, hitting that sweet spot.

Terry grabs a fistful of hair, while his other hand delivers a heavy smack to your ass. You whimper knowing whats to come. Another smack lands on your bare ass. Pain soon turns into excitement and pleasure. You toot that ass up as high as your spine will allow giving him full access. The stimulation from Terry hitting your spot, his balls slapping your clit, and the stinging sensation from your ass being smacked had you in a euphoric state. This was the first time in a long time that you were able to unwind and let go. You close your eyes as the orgasm envelopes the both of you. While you were on the brink of exhaustion, Terry was walking towards the door.

“I’m going downstairs to get some water baby. You want something?” Terry asks as he stands in the doorway naked as the day he was born. You nod, your throat still feeling raw. Minutes pass. You call Terry’s name to get no response. Your heart races as you tear yourself from the bed immediately feeling the aftermath of your punishment. You creep into the kitchen and find Terry laid face down in the middle of the kitchen. “Terry!” You rush over to him, failing to notice the figure standing in the shadows. 

“Hi Dr. Richmond.” You turn around slowly to find your very own patient zero standing in the shadows wearing a devious smile. 

“Trinity? What- Why?” She doesn’t respond. Instead she motions for you to sit in a chair while she binds your ankles, wrists, and mouth. You were so careful not to place any personal indicators in your office and Terry had trained you on how to be aware of your surroundings. Your attention went back to your husband who was lying on the floor also bound and unconscious. Trinity struggled to turn him over on his back. You cringed watching her stroke his semi-erect dick. Despite wanting to wring this bitch’s neck, you manage your best poker face.

“Week after week, I’m forced to see you. You think I haven’t noticed how your mood shifts when you see me. You haven’t done shit to fix me!” Trinity shrieked. You cocked your head to the side wondering how the fuck you missed seeing this breakdown coming. She hadn’t improved, but she was stable. She was now standing in front of you toying with a gun. “I watched yall tonight, you know… I touched myself watching him devour you. It should be me!” She snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun to your temple. You prayed silently, for you, for Terry, for this nutty bitch to at least leave you both alive.

You notice Terry beginning to come to. He’s able to assess the situation and meets your eyes, telling you to remain calm without exchanging any words. You know that you need to keep her attention on you long enough to give Terry time to formulate a plan. Sure, Trinity was winning this fight for now, but Terry would ultimately take the victory in the war. 

“B..ch.. F…c…you!” You manage to mumble through the gag. Your defiance infuriates Trinity. She snatches the gag from your mouth, keeping the gun pressed to your temple. “Say it again! I can’t wait to fuck your fine ass husband. I’m going to do it right in front of you too.”

“Bitch fuck you! They should’ve thrown the book at you when they had the chance!” You screamed knowing that case was a sore spot. Before Trinity could pull the trigger, Terry had freed himself and held her in a bear hug. With one hand, he retrieved the gun, unloaded it, and pinned her down with his knee in her back. Never losing control of Trinity, he was able to undo the ropes she’d bound you with.

Your entire body shook violently as you struggled to search Terry’s abandoned pants pockets for his phone. You choked back tears as you gave the operator your address. Terry fought to restrain himself from permanently silencing the intruder. Not only had she stressed his wife out, but she had assaulted him and violated his home. “I’d never make you wait three weeks Terry.” She addresses your husband. “And maybe if you were better at your job, I wouldn’t have gotten curious about your life. How the fuck are you so successful, but failed me?” The words cut you. You grab the closest thing to you, an umbrella, and lunge at her. 

The thought of failure had consumed and haunted you for months. You’d never failed anything in your life, yet here was your biggest failure obnoxiously taunting you. Terry grabbed the umbrella before it connected. “Bitch I didn’t fail you! Yo mammy failed you. Yo loser ass daddy failed you! It’s not my job to fix you!” She crossed the line a long time ago. That doctor-patient confidentiality bullshit was out the window. You knew you had to verbally cut this bitch deep since Terry wouldn’t allow you to inflict your revenge physically. “Your mama should’ve locked yo ass away when you were 5-years old maniacally obsessing over fictional characters. Weird ass bitch!” Your blood was boiling. 

Officers knock at the door. You hand Terry his pants. He meets your eyes. “Baby go upstairs. I’ll handle this.” 

“What about your head Terry? You’re bleeding.” He shrugged it off. 

“I got this baby. I’ll be upstairs as soon as this is handled. I’m fine.”

You replayed the events of the night in your mind as the hot shower water hit your body. How long had she been stalking you? How did she manage to get inside your home? Terry entered the shower, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re taking some time off, as much as you need. I’m going to file a restraining order and personally see to it that she ends up on the next train back to wherever the fuck she’s from and we are pressing as many charges as it takes to bury her under the psych ward baby. I’m so sorry.” None of this was his fault, but the fact that someone was able to slip past his defenses didn’t sit right with him. After showering Terry carries you to the bed and massages every inch of your body until you drift off to sleep.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a mini-challenge to myself – I overthink and end up abandoning my writings A LOT. I found my angle and finished this in one sitting. I hope you enjoyed, but I appreciate the feedback whether you did or not 🫶🏾

[writersblog20]

It’s okay, sweetheart

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif makers!!!

Summary: When your period strikes, Pedro strikes back harder

Warnings: mention of fear of commitment, mention of always feeling alone, hints of neglection. Mention of being scared to let people in, period, cramps, and a whole lot of fluff

Words: 3,2K

It’s okay, sweetheart

You were traveling around the world with your co-star Pedro Pascal to give interviews about the upcoming new series that everyone was dying to see. You and Pedro hit it off great, like you’ve known each other your entire life and he was your comfort person. You’ve told him that and there was nothing wrong with it. in contrary even. “I’ve never gotten a better compliment sweetie. I love you too.” Was what he told you when you confessed how attached you were to him. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.” So that’s how you got even closer to each other. You guys were inseparable. Where he went, you went and the other way around and if not, than you would facetime each other. You both had such a wholesome relationship, it was absolutly amazing

He was your safe space and he gladly took that spot with love. You weren’t afraid to tell him anything. You were used to pushing people away, sometimes even friends and you hated that. You wanted to trust people and let them in your ‘sacred garden’ but you just couldn’t and that was the same with relationships. You ended things before they could. It scared you to death but with Pedro it was different. He creeped up on you and slowly made his way to your heart and the moment you realized that he was standing next to you in your ‘sacred garden’, holding your hand tightly, you realized that you let him in. Let him love and care about you. it still scared you but Pedro radiated so much trust, love and care, it was something you’ve never experienced. You’ve kind off always been alone but not when Pedro came along. He held your heart on a golden plate. He was the first person you trusted 100% and where you weren’t scared or uncomfortable with. And trust me, that says a lot since you were almost from nature uncomfortable and awkward but not with Pedro and that was when you decided to open up and tell him everything. That’s when he made you that promise and you knew he would keep his word.

So you were finally done with the interviews and you would have a premiere to attend to and an after party but you felt physically a little off today, maybe because your period was on its way. You had cramps and they got worse with every passing second. It’s been a very long while since your period was this bad.  You and Pedro exited the room and he noticed how you crouched a little and put pressure on your stomach, trying your best to hide it but of course he would notice. He noticed everything, every discomfort, panic or whatever would bother you, he would notice.

“Hey, you okay sweetheart?” he asked you as he stopped next to you and placed his hand on your back. You bit your lip and tried to give a smile but Pedro gave you a stern look. “I have horrible cramps. I’ll just lie down when we’re back at the hotel before going to the premiere.” Pedro didn’t looked convinced but let it slide, wanting to bring you safe to your hotel room. “Alright, you set the pace okay?” he told you and brought your arm to his so he could link it and hold you. You nodded and carefully walked to the car.

When you were finally in the car, you brought your knees to you, hoping that would ease the pain a bit. Your arm was between your stomach and your leg, pushing pressure on the painful spot. Pedro sat next to you and softly went with his fingers over your scalp and placing so now and then kisses on your head. Luckily it didn’t took long when you arrived at the hotel. Pedro helped you up to your room and waited on your bed while you cleaned yourself a bit up in the bathroom and changed into pajamas. You had a plushy with you which you could heat up so it was a plushy and a heating pad in one. You were so happy that you had microwave in your room. You got out in Pedro’s oversized sweater that he gave you and joggings. You had the hoodie over your head and placed the plushy in the microwave and waited. “Go lay down sweetheart. I’ll take care of this.” he told you when he walked up to you, rubbing both of your upper arms with his hands.

You turned around and placed your arms around him for a hug. Pedro chuckled lovingly and pulled you in tighter. You weren’t really an affectionate person. You’ve said it before, you sometimes reminded yourself of Sheldon from the big bang theory. You didn’t mind a quick hug but you were so touched starved that a longer hug or any other type of affectionate felt unnatural because the last time you’ve had affectionate was from your mom and that stopped when you turned 10 years. So it was quite a while ago. Pedro on the other hand, was very affectionate and it scared you in the beginning because you didn’t know how to act or what to do and what I said earlier. It felt so unnatural. But you didn’t want it to stop and that’s how you learned to receive affection and give it back.

Pedro kissed the side of your head and led you to the bed. You crawled in with a groan from pain and worry took over the features on Pedro’s face. You laid down on your side, knees tucked towards your chest. Pedro got some painkillers and gave you a bottle of water. You smiled softly from gratitude. Pedro smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Sweetheart, I think it’s better if you stay here tonight. Get some rest and try to get better. They’re going to be more premiers that we will attend. It’s not the end of the world if you stay in tonight.” Pedro tried to convince you as he sat on the side of the bed and softly rubbed your back.

The microwave pinged and he got the plushy out. It wasn’t the best heating pad (Because there was just a small pad in the plushy) but it was better than nothing at all. You thought about what Pedro said and you had to be honest with yourself. You weren’t seeing it happen anytime soon and walking crouched down on a red carpet was not a great look. “I think your right…” you mumbled and Pedro looked at you while walking back. He placed the covers away for a second and looked for your consent, making you nod. He carefully lifted up your hoodie and placed it over your shirt that you were wearing underneath the hoodie. He looked at you if he placed it right and you nodded again. He got the covers up and tucked you lovingly in.

“You take your time and rest princesa. You’ve worked hard enough. I’ll let them know okay? You go and rest now mhm?” you gave him a weak smile but felt grateful that Pedro would take care of it. “Thank you P!” Pedro just smiled adoringly at you and kissed the top of your nose and after, your forehead. “You have fun okay? And drink one for me.” Pedro smiled. “I will. I’m gonna miss you but see you later okay?” you nodded “You completely comfortable? Need something else? Can I do something for you? You need stuff from the store or…” you stopped Pedro from rambling with a chuckle “I’m good P, thank you. Have fun!” Pedro smiled again and gave you a last kiss before exiting the room. You scrolled a bit through Youtube but you fell asleep fairly quick.

You woke up from your hotel room opening and closing. You quickly looked up, not expecting someone to come in but as soon as you saw Pedro, you smiled and felt relieved, that was until you realized he wasn’t supposed to be back yet. “Hi….” you said softly, you haven’t moved since Pedro left the room earlier. “Wasn’t expecting you back.” you told him. He still had his suit on and he looked dashing. “I’m skipping the afterparty. The’re more to come, besides, I want to be with you.” You smiled and felt your heart fill up with love. You weren’t alone anymore because of Pedro. And he meant that.

“So…. I got some stuff from the store on my way back.” he told you and placed the bags on the bed. You sat up with a lot of groaning and Pedro was by your side in no time to help you sit up. He placed the pillow straight up so you could rest your back against it. You curiously tried to look in the bag but Pedro pulled it towards him with a smile. “So I figured that this heating plushy isn’t doing too much for you, so I got you 3 extra…..” you looked surprised at the amount while he got them out. One was a bunny, the other a pink bear and the last one, he kept in the bag. “And now my favorite…” he told you and got Grogu out of the bag. You were surprised but you had the biggest smile on your face and that was all Pedro wanted. He smiled at your reaction. “I didn’t even knew these existed but I thought you might like it.” he told you and gave them to you. 1 plushy was already bigger than yours so the fact he got you 3…. That was just too sweet.

“P, this is too much! Thank you! but why so many?” you chuckled out. “Couldn’t choose and I liked them all.” you chuckled and couldn’t wipe away the smile off your face. “Besides! This one smells like eucalyptus” he told you excited when he held Grogu up. “And this one smells like lavender” he got the pink bear up. “And this one smells like patchouli!” he told you, holding the bunny. Pedro sat next to you and you reached your arms out to hug him. Pedro chuckled and scooted closer to you and held you lovingly in his arms, softly rubbing your back. “Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me.” Pedro kissed the side of your head. “You are more than welcome princesa. Trust me, it’s my pleasure.”

“Oh and I got you some other stuff.” He told you and reached in the brown bag. “ginger, some painkillers, fruit, fruitjuices, and snacks if you’re up for it and I didn’t know if you still had any left but I took some pads with me.” he told you and looked at you, only to see you with a big smile. “Thank you… really.” Pedro shrugged. “It’s fine sweetie, really. You don’t have to thank me anymore.” He told you with a chuckle and kissed the top of your head. “How did you know that I had to get my period? Besides the cramps of course.” You asked him. “We’ve been on the road for a while now, so I kind of know when you have to get your period” He chuckled while scratching his neck. It was sweet really, besides that just showed you how much in tune he was with you and the small things you showed from discomfort and how fast he picked up on them, while for some people it would take years and even then, you could be a closed book.

“So I was thinking…. I get changed into something I can breathe…” you were already laughing, knowing that Pedro found the suit a bit too tight but it worked. “And after, I get my laptop and we watch something on Netflix. Let me take care of you.” he told you casually as he rubbed your back. you smiled and wanted nothing more. “That sounds really nice, I’d like that.” You still learned to be vulnerable around people and letting Pedro in like this and let him take care of you, was something you extremely missed and it was the first step in the right direction. Pedro smiled at you. “Alright. I’ll be back in a sec princesa.” He quickly excited your room and you got the plushies in your arms, smelling them. You LOVED the Grogu heating plushy.

It didn’t took him long before he got back in his pajamas. He placed some of the stuff in your small fridge and put the kettle on so he could make you some fresh ginger tea and got the plushies out of your hands, placing them one after the other in the microwave until they were nice and warm. He placed them besides you and on your stomach. Obviously you held Grogu tight. Pedro smiled when he saw you cuddling Grogu. “I love them all but this one is my favorite.” He chuckled. “I figured and to be honest, I would be butthurt if it wasn’t.” you chuckled.

Pedro got the tea and placed it next to you and gave you some stronger painkillers with more water. “You’ve got to drink more water sweetheart.” You knew he was right so you took some good gulps and placed it besides you again. “Good job.” He praised you casually and kissed the top of your head before getting comfortable next to you. He helped you getting the pillow right again. Pedro held out his arm so you could cuddle up to him. You let your head rest on his shoulder and partly chest. His arm going around you, his fingertips already back at your head and he tucked the covers more up. “Comfortable princesa?” he asked you and you just nodded.

You and Pedro choose out a movie that you both wanted to watch. You sat up to drink your tea for a moment and lied back down. “How was the premier by the way?” you asked him curious. “Boring… you weren’t there.” you smiled softly. Pedro chuckled “It was fine. The usual. You didn’t miss much but I missed you.” you crawled closer to Pedro. “Thank you for coming back ya know” you told him softly. Pedro went over your head. “Always sweetheart. Always.” You turned your focus back on the tv and halfway through the movie Pedro touched the plushies and got up. You looked questioningly at him. “I’ll warm them up again for you.” You smiled and whispered a small thank you as you handed him the plushies.

He got some fresh fruit that was cut up out of the fridge and handed it to you. “Try to eat something sweetie.” Pedro helped you sit up a little bit and got you comfortable again by tucking you in again and propping the pillow up. You felt spoiled even though it was normal to take care of someone who was sick, you were just used to do it yourself. You were glad that you were learning to open up with Pedro. You didn’t want it to be someone else. He carefully placed the plushies back while you ate some fruit.

He laid back down next to you and stole some fruit. You smiled and shared some fruit with him while you rested your side against his. You didn’t want to eat anymore so you waited for Pedro to finish and in the meanwhile you let your head rest on your shoulder. You felt his head slightly leaning against yours and you felt so very loved in that moment that you felt it radiate through your entire being. It felt warm like a nice hug without the actual hug.

When Pedro finished, you both laid back down again. Until you felt the cramps coming back at a high speed. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and sat up straight, worrying Pedro in the meantime. You put your hand on your stomach and put pressure on the spot. Pedro felt helpless, looking at you when you were in so much pain and he couldn’t do anything about it broke his heart. He just kept rubbing your back and when he saw that a tear escaped the corner of your eye, he scooted closer to you and pulled you carefully into his body, resting his chin on your head as he tried to comfort you through the pain, placing kisses on your head and softly rocking you both.

“Can I try something princesa?” he asked you. You reluctantly nodded. “You trust me right?” you nodded again. “Okay, lay down sweetheart.” You did as he asked and Pedro laid down next to you. “I’m going with my hand underneath your shirt if you’re okay with that and rub your tummy and put some pressure where the cramp is. It used to help me when I was younger and was sick. Are you okay with that?” he asked you, knowing it was a step closer to letting him in and he new you found that scary. You nodded, wanting to try anything that could help. Pedro looked at you again for once again, consent. Which you gave him. His hand was big and warm underneath your shirt. “Where are the cramps exactly?” he asked you.

You grabbed his hand and let him to the horrible spot that pained you so much. Pedro immediately put pressure on the spot and you the cramps ebbed away and it felt like you could take a proper breathe again. “This works.” You remarked a little out of breathe from the pain. “Good, that’s good.” He told you and got one of the heavier plushies and placed it besides his hand on your stomach. His thumb softly rubbing your tummy and normally you would feel extremely insecure but not this time. It felt so nice, warm and safe that you didn’t care anymore. Besides, it stopped the pain. You covered Pedro’s hand with your own. Pedro linked your fingers through each other and you felt your body relax again, thank to Pedro.  

You haven’t felt so content, relaxed and peaceful in so long that you didn’t want to fall asleep. You wanted this moment to last forever so you tried to fight against your heavy eyelids. The warmth coming from the plushies, the body heat of Pedro and the closeness of it all enveloped you whole, making it hard to stay awake in such a relaxing state. You opened your eyes when you felt and heard Pedro softly chuckle, who was clearly keeping an eye on you and saw you fight against your sleep. “It’s okay princesa. Close your eyes, I’ll be right here when you wake up. I won’t go anywhere okay?” you nodded, too tired to speak up. You closed your eyes and felt Pedro softly tighten his fingers with yours as a confirmation that it was okay. He softly placed his lips to your forehead and lingered them there for a bit before placing a kiss.

You got more comfortable, your head resting on Pedro’s chest slightly, eyes already closed and it didn’t took long before a peaceful deep sleep brought you over to dreamland, handing over the best dreams to you.

[loverboykirstein]

biting the bullet // kinktober pt. 4/5

sam (sdv) x afab! reader

wc: 7,574

mdni -> warnings: mentions of addiction/neglect/throwing up/mental illness, unprotected sex, breeding, possession

***“go. whatever happened, whatever-“ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “whatever happened, fix it. go-” another sigh, covering up his lack of words. “you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own,”. 

you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own. 

you did break his heart, right? 

you..

a deep breath, the last swig from the bottle that had mixed with the night sky’s tears of solidarity. 

on his feet, another deep breath for the road. 

“samson, go,”.***

the mismatched pattering of his heartbeat in his ears began to close his throat, chest cavity torn apart by the weight of a passing phrase. 

“can we do tomorrow? i’m taking them to the look-out on my bike tonight,”. 

what..? 

it was happening again. he let his guard down for just a moment, a fraction of a second, and his lungs and heart and every nerve ending were spilling out of his ripped apart being, invisible to all but him. 

you..seb..? of course you want seb. everyone does. we each have a role, right? just like mom? like dad? 

is there something that wrong with me? how do i atone for my sins in my past life to mediate the bullshit i’ve drug into this one? that’s the only explanation, right? 

it followed him everywhere, a sick joke that didn’t even have a punchline. in its wake, it simply stole his soul away, piece by piece, a sick treasure hunt of trying to rebuild and rebuild and rebuild. 

for what cause? to sit up and stare at his ceiling, snapping the rubber band on his wrist over and over and over again, a piss-poor attempt to calm himself down that never seemed to work. 

what was he supposed to do? he hadn’t even been handed the short end of the stick, simply tempted with it like a dumb dog and locked in a collar for the rest of time as punishment for his greed. 

the desperate, aching, bruising desire for a life. 

to be more than a secondary, to figure out who he was. 

to fall in love and not get hurt. 

to begin to trust without losing his joints in the process, left a brittle mess of grinding bones at the end of it all. 

to make the decision to live for himself, not for the need of the image of others. 

to make it out of a war-torn cage, to never follow in his fathers footsteps. 

to build a family that was wanted, unlike his. 

he wanted that with you. 

he never knew why he existed, or what the point was. 

then he heard your laugh for the first time, handing him an extra maple bar you had made and he nearly collapsed at the life that made his fingers numb and filled his lungs instantaneously. 

but now,  quiet trembles rustled through his bloodied fingers, too busy taking out anything he could on anything he could. 

near the edge of the valley, beyond leah’s quaint home lied a hidden little cave, behind bushes and trees and the occasional critter or two. 

his blood stained parts of the exposed rock, the only thing he could hit without feeling bad. far enough away, no one ever finding him out there. 

for no one to hear his violent sobs, his screams out to whoever was behind all of this, why, why, why. over and over and over, prayers for a reason as to why things had to be this way. 

but if he wasn’t home to set the table, his mother would lose her temper before the oven timer even rang. the sun finding its way back to the never-ending horizon was her queue, the so-called ‘acceptable’ time of day to numb the sorrow crawling near, pushing it onto the son she never wanted in the first place. 

which left vincent to his own devices, luckily not alone, but he knew he wasn’t doing well, penny not focused enough on teaching, more on playing, as she glued herself to the novel of the day, explicit enough to be banned from the library entirely. in front of the kids? really? 

so he would swallow his heartbeat, coughing up a stable voice through his constricted windpipe that built a facade good enough to fool just about everyone. 

he sat on his floor for hours. the hum of the washing machine was echoing through the paper thin walls. 

everything was else felt silent, felt quiet. 

except the unrelenting grave digging itself wide open in the middle of his messy bedroom. 

because things weren’t quiet. dad was fighting for god knows what, narrowly missing shrapnel with each breath. 

mom was mixing pills and booze, manic-depressive in nature and waiting until the very edge before it was too late. 

but the worst was knowing that you and seb weren’t being quiet. you weren’t asleep in your bed, cuddled up with your cat under a quilt and your childhood blanket held close. 

you were clinging onto him, body pressed against his. sharing a spot of the world that he had only seen once, seeing the city ahead of him that he could barely remember being a part of. 

the most he could remember was his childhood therapist, the only one who saw past his so-called laxidasical disposition and class-clown behavior. struggling with reading, a common case of adhd and anxiety all jumbled up inside of a first grader. 

a hint of dyslexia, and the guilt of his mothers cries he could hear against the locked doors, mourning a life without children. 

nothing a child should have to bear, tiptoeing as to not crack the paper thin ice that made up his floorboards. 

craving attention from the ones who created him, from the one who carried him in her womb. 

father rarely around, making up for the lack of stability in the form of a paycheck and health insurance. 

reprimand after reprimand, the only way to get his mother to look him in the eyes. 

acting out as a cry for help, at validation, at fucking anything. 

from the comedy covered pain,  he learned to always know how to make someone laugh. to make sure they could exhale a little bit of whatever was holding them back, even if it meant that he had to let it settle in his lungs so it wouldn’t fall back into theirs one day. 

he promised himself that he would never open up the small little lock on his exterior for anyone. ever. 

maybe he didn’t notice, or maybe you tripped the wires first, but the alarm bells never rang. no emergency protocol, no swot team to barricade his entire being shut. 

you left the door open, not even bothering to worry about the heat being on, letting all the cold air in. 

or maybe you didn’t even know, the key hidden in the corner of your room, under your bed mixed with dust and other lost memories. 

how was he supposed to face you again? he had planned on inviting you to the band’s first show, your excitement bouncing off the walls at the thought, when he mentioned the idea. 

even though they only had a few songs, rough drafts at best, poor attempts at writing lyrics in an attempt to give abi and seb the spotlight. 

also in fear, knowing someone would put the pieces together, that someone would connect the dots. that they would see the unrepairable shattered glass of his being behind it all. 

that you would figure it out, never looking at him the same way again. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

weeks flew by in aching stretches, avoiding contact with anyone,  his only bandaid over the wound. declining invitations that could maybe bring you close, making your laugh ring in his ears or the smell of your perfume that would replace his train of thought. 

all his time spent sleeping, the sun becoming his worst enemy. 

braving the light only upon vincent’s summertime pleas, just to lie and say that dad was okay, that there was nothing to worry about. 

flickering his eyes between his brother and the beach entrance, hoping, praying, you wouldn’t appear behind him, or anyone for that matter. not strong enough to explain his absence, to explain the proverbial last straw that chewed up and spit out his barricaded soul. 

you would stop by, questioning his mother on his wordless disappearance. she didn’t have an honest answer, blaming it on music school? 

weeks turned to months, watching the seasons pass by. he couldn’t figure out why it hurt so goddamn bad. 

trying to process two decades worth of grief, wrapped up in his dna as he grew inside his mothers unwanting body. 

every effort, every last ditch grasp with a mildly politically incorrect joke, another brick laid on his wall of lies. 

why did this become his downfall? the dramatic, be all end all suffocating downfall. 

what did his subconscious craft while he wasn’t fixing up the cracks? too busy lost in your stories that filled him with a mix of worry and thrill all at the same time, the small scrunch of your nose, and the way you bit your lip when you lost your train of thought. 

two weeks after the attempt harvey made to check up on him, to ‘have a talk’, a government letter arrived through the mail slot on the door. 

kent was coming home. dad is coming home. dad is coming… home..? 

arriving in a week, realizing he had a week to build the wall back up. 

to rid his eyes of the rubbed-raw corners, saltwater leaving a red hue around his lashes. 

to cover up his sullen cheeks, too fucked to get up and take care of himself beyond the minimum. 

the hole in his chest mirrored the grave he had to step around when he got the courage to move, too deep and vacant to see the bottom. 

he couldn’t figure out why you were the one to kick all of this off, you weren’t even that close? sure, friends who saw each other all the time, near habitual meetings that would worry the other when routines changed. 

but you weren’t together, did he even have the right to blame you? 

you didn’t cause every ounce of pain he had endured through the fabric of his life, you didn’t stitch pain into the pattern of his fingerprints. 

but every goddamn thought came back to you. you, you, you. 

all he fucking wanted was you. 

it was pathetic, a childlike reaction to not getting something he made no effort to get. to try and make, to try and prove himself to you. 

you were probably waiting for the next rain by now, already modifying your cabin to accommodate your soon to be husband. 

FUCK. 

the 7 letters managed to make him ill, rushing past the all consuming ending cornering him against his wall. 

knees melting the cold tile, reaching to turn on the sink and the fan so that no one could hear him try and expel the hell of that idea. 

that he would get to sleep next to you every night, he would want love songs about you, he would get the chance to see the most intimate parts of you and so much more. 

everything sam wanted, gone. stripped away. 

but it was never his to begin with, was it? 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

a blur of days meshed together, world now sideways as a version of his mother he had never seen cleaned every corner of the house, paint chips repaired, hiding every dark secret she tucked away in his absence. 

the dread made him want to hurl, want to really disappear. how was he supposed to face a version of his father he didn’t know at all? 

two bags in hand at the doorstep, his mother and vincent sobbing in unison at their reunion. but he saw it. the visions in his eyes, the forced image of being alive was like looking in a mirror. 

he didn’t know what to do. he was stripped of anything he ever knew. any hopes of his life ahead. 

except his was lost in a real war, fighting for some sort of cause that came with a paycheck and praise and thank-you’s. 

sam’s was a selfish mess, ruining himself over the idea of something that wasn’t real over a goddamn sentence. 

a look of unblinking eyes, both bloodshot and sad, a nod of mutual understanding but also complete confusion. 

kent wondering what went wrong with his eldest as he was gone, mouth running dry when he recognized the look plastered on his son. 

a hot meal, the first real one kent had eaten without the threat of an air strike in god knows how long, mixed with his favorite beer he could finally share with his eldest. 

despite the distaste, sam took the opportunity to drink, no reprimands on something that would make him feel less. 

but it seemed to do the opposite as he stepped out into the pouring rain, clouds appearing out of nowhere as the sun took its leave. 

letting the cold, wet air settle the heat of panic in his stomach, he jumped half to death when his father tapped his arm with an open beer bottle. 

“take it,” kent tipped the bottle towards him, watching the rain patter on the glass. 

he nodded, nearly losing his grip as he swung back far too heavy of a drink, not wanting to taste it anymore. it tasted like guilt, disappointment. 

“kid, spill it. i didn’t stay alive to see the same look in your eyes,” kent’s demand knocked sam’s brain around in his skull, stunting his breathing and blacking out his vision. 

“what?” he coughed, knowing it wouldn’t work worth a damn on his unhappy father, who seemed to already know what happened, yet equally clueless as he had never asked about sam’s feelings before. 

“samson, c’mon kid. i-” he sighed, eyes tracking the rain on the porch make its way to the sidewalk. “i want to help you. i want to be a father, at least a friend. i realized that, alone out there. i can smell it on you, so talk,”. 

a lingering, sulfur filled silence crushed his passageways, nearly collapsing into his father like a small child after scraping his knee on the playground. 

‘i want to be a father’. 

“look kid, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine,” kent leaned up against the painted exterior of what felt like a new home. “just, whatever it is, you can’t run away forever. it doesn’t wor-”

“I DONT KNOW WHATS WRONG WITH ME, DAD,”. 

the first time he had ever spoken up to his father, that he had raised his voice. 

a cracked voice still managed to let the sorrow spill, pooling over his lash line and mixing with the rain. 

“i can’t fucking take it anymore-i-FUCK,”. 

his syllables were broken, caught between desperate gasps for air in his first cry for help. 

paper mache hands disappearing under the diluted salt, crouching down as if to save them. 

“she’s-” his words barely coherent, choking up his pathetic admittance. “she’s probably already gotten that stupid fucking pendant god damn it all,”. 

broken laughter, a mix of every feeling known to man, choked up with gravel and acid. 

“i never fucking did anything about it, either,” running his arthritic bones through his sopping wet hair, he looked up at the man who had just been through the troubles of war. 

real war. 

not the emotional one, the near psychosis-like state of a few months passed. 

“so do something about it,”. kent was cut and dry, the only way he knew how to cover up his heartache. 

his eldest, the one he held the most guilt for, the most agony for. the one he prayed for every night, the one who was his first thought every time a bullet flew past a little too close. 

he didn’t want to break, knowing that if his son watched him collapse at the sight, he would never forgive himself. 

“what?” nothing more than a scoff, but a halt of accidental waterboarding at the gasps for air. 

“go. whatever happened, whatever-“ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “whatever happened, fix it. go-” another sigh, covering up his lack of words. “you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own,”. 

you can’t claim a broken heart that you broke on your own. 

you did break his heart, right? 

you..

a deep breath, the last swig from the bottle that had mixed with the night sky’s tears of solidarity. 

on his feet, another deep breath for the road. 

“samson, go,”. 

his fathers gruff tone, eyes sharp and stern sent his feet moving, running. 

barely able to see in the dark, pouring rain, letting nothing but his burning blood carry his body to the place you called home. 

i have to fix this i have to fix this i have to- 

over and over and over again, repeating like a broken record, the only words left engrained. 

even though you didn’t know that anything needed to be fixed, he needed to fix things for him. he couldn’t look at his father the same if he at least didn’t try. 

soaking wet, hair in his eyes and catching on his tear stained blinks, out of breath and on your front porch. 

the only shield left was your front door, metal handle illuminated from your porch light. 

do it, you already got here, do it. 

scattered shallow breaths from running turned to shaky heavy ones, raising his still-bruised hand to your wooden door. 

two knocks, two seconds, two more. the way he always did before his self-inflicted imprisonment. 

“sam..?” you rubbed your eyes, shocked awake by his unnerving knocks in the dark. “what are you-come in, you’re soaked,”. 

you looked panicked, not bothering to worry about anything other than him being soaking wet and out of breath. 

he took his sopping wet shoes off at your door, leaving them to sit on your porch next to your rain boots.  with less than a passing second, you had disappeared and returned with a towel and a change of clothes. 

“sam what the fuck-are you-” running around in your pajamas, a short pair of flannel shorts and a tshirt that nearly covered them entirely, turning the heat on and running a kettle on the stove, his drying eyes were too focused on you. 

questioning why you weren’t out as late as you used to, knowing marlon had found you passed out cold on one too many occasions. 

“y/n it’s-it’s fine, i uh-” he stood still, shaking his head as if to force himself to blink. 

“go, go change before you freeze half to death in my house,” busy standing on your tip-toes to reach the top cabinet, barely able to grab the box of tea you kept specifically for him. 

peeling his eyes from your strained calves and your ass peeking out of the bottom of your sleepwear, he hurried off the other way towards your bathroom. 

the sight of your overly exposed legs was enough for him to twitch, his mind such a goddamn mess that he couldn’t really even remember what he was going to say. 

suffocating in your perfume that had soaked into your walls, he forced his rain soaked clothes off his shivering body. the purple hue on his lips, aching joints. 

hands on either side of the counter, flushed cheeks and sunken eyes, sam caught his breath, stealing any strength he could from the hardwood holding his hands. 

i have to fix this. don’t be a fucking bitch. suck it the fuck up, you fucking moron. 

hanging his clothes over the bathtub, towel still in hand, he caught sight of you pacing back and forth in your kitchen. 

chewing on your thumbnail, something you only did when you were stressed. brows furrowed, only snapped out of your endless loop by the kettle whistling loud. 

“better?” you asked, back turned to him as you poured him a mug full, adding a bag of his favorite tea from the traveling merchant in to simmer. 

“y-yeah. thank you,” rustling his hair with the towel, worn and faded, trying to rid it of any extra sorrow carried inside. 

“sit, mister,” you pointed at your couch, eyes stern almost like a mothers. 

he did as he was told, slowly caving in on himself as he felt like a bigger burden than ever before. 

“here, i’ll be right back,”. 

gently handing him the warm blue ceramic mug, the one vincent had given you after you spent your afternoons helping him learn to read, the corners of your mouth turned up slightly at the lax in sam’s shoulders once his joints found warm relief. 

grabbing a comb from under the bathroom sink, you came back wordlessly, floorboards creaking below your hurried feet. 

in a matter of minutes, you went from fast asleep on the couch, tv paused  from lack of activity when asked, cuddled up closely to your cat and your blanket, to wide awake and flustered, worried beyond belief. 

you knew that kent had come home, and you had planned to introduce yourself in a few days, allowing him time to settle in. 

rattling your skull was the fear that something horrid had happened, so bad that sam had run in the fucking rain to your cabin of all places after the endless era of radio silence. 

“so,” you sighed standing behind him, a small shadow casting over him as your body blocked the light in your entry way. “you gonna tell me what the hell has been going on?” 

your words were harsher than you wanted them to be, but fuck man, you hadn’t seen him in months, no matter how many attempts you made. 

pulling his head back a little, you began to comb through his incredibly tangled hair, feeling him dissolve under the slightly bit of affection. 

“can-can i ask a question..first?” his eyes were closed, mindlessly rubbing his thumb into his opposite palm. 

“only, if you pinky promise to tell me everything after,”. you stuck out your pinky, and he didn’t hesitate to reach yours. locking in his fate, peeling away the plastic film that was the only bit of his shield still remaining, your fingers crossed and released as the promise was sealed. 

“how are uh, how are you and seb?” it felt like blood came up as he spoke, riddled with sorrow filled expectations of what your response would be. 

“what?” you hands stopped their attempt to comb through his tangled blonde mess, stunned at the question. “were..fine? have you not talked to him recently?” 

huh? 

“no i uh- no i haven’t. i thought you guys were like…” 

“sam, you don’t think we’re dating, do you?” 

you-

“you’re..not?” covering his face with his hands, trying to hold any bit left of him together. 

“no? sam i-”. your breaths were deep, focusing all your downright confusion into releasing the knots through his hair. 

“oh,”. 

oh. 

“alright, now that your speculations on my nonexistent sex life are over can you please explain why you are here right now?” 

a black hole, all consuming, everything everywhere all at the same time. the inside of his skull, spinning, spinning, spinning. 

“i um-fuck, im so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry,”. leaning his head back, fully into your overworked fingertips, soaking in every ounce of touch he could. 

“why are you sorry? sam you didn’t do anything, other than give me a goddamn heart attack,”. 

how are you not mad? 

how are you so casual about this? 

“i-” 

“if this is because of seb i swear to god i’m going to beat the shit out of you samson,” he could feel you shake your head in disbelief, as if he should have known or as if there was this big sign that was supposed to be placed in front of him that he managed to look right through. 

“y/n, i-”

he couldn’t cough the words he wanted out, embarrassment flooding his entire being, shame mixing in at a searing rate. 

he felt you silently leave, pulling his airways closed the further you went. 

so pathetic, so goddamn fucking pathetic. cant even tell her, what am i doing- 

“sammy, come back from whatever planet you're on please,” you were sat on the coffee table, knees touching his. two shot glasses in one hand, a bottle of liquor in the other. 

you set them both on the table, filling them each to the brim. dark amber syrup, so foolishly innocent, burning its way all the way past your lips. 

as if your voice didn’t make him dizzy enough, the liquor you kept on hand was always the strongest, outshining anything else he had ever had before. 

“each shot, we each share something. okay?” 

handing him his glass, clinking them together and kicking it back. 

he winced at the burn, the warmth bubbling in his stomach. 

he watched you drink it far too easily, better than you did the last time you drank together. your eyes, your soul looked tired, gone unnoticed in his own self-pity. 

soon the heater was shut off, both of you warm enough from the poison seeping into mutual bloodstreams. 

shot after shot, losing track in storytelling as he listened to you speak on your adventures in the newly found desert, all of the new weapons you learned to use. 

how he had tried to teach alex to skateboard, his first time getting high, struggling to find any reason to talk about himself when you were sat in front of him, inches away. 

he was simply infatuated, beyond infatuated, soaking up every breath to make up for lost time.

“oh! sammy, sammy,” you nearly whined, placing a hand on either one of his thighs. “will you pleaseee tell me where you’ve been all this time?” 

your slightly jutted lip, flushed cheeks and steadfast grip on his legs froze his surroundings, eyes locked on your pleading heart. 

just fucking bite the damn bullet. 

“i-seb canceled on me, that night he took you to the lookout. and i-” he leaned forward, heaviest sigh blowing fear out of the way. “i realized i couldn’t handle that. i couldn’t handle you being with-”

“sam-”

“i couldn’t handle seeing you with someone else when all i ever wanted was you, i just,”. 

“sam-”. 

“i knew that wasn’t fair to you and i just, i didn’t realize how much i-”

guilt ridden words cut short, your liquor stained lips shutting his. entire body pushed into him, not even enough time for him to fully register what was happening. 

is she..? 

“you’re fucking stupid,” you pulled away for a moments time to mutter that to him, pressing your forehead against his. “it has been you this whole time, idiot”. 

what? 

“what?” his eyes forced rapid blinks, unable to process what you had just said, what you had just done. 

“i-god damn it all sam LISTEN TO ME, i never went with seb that night, i wanted to do that with you,”. 

shock was the only way to think of it, the world frozen on its titled axis as it listened to your confession, to his heart that was on the brink of collapse as it beat so hard it shook the ground. 

a few short stutters, words falling flat. months of self-imposed torture, losing everything he knew, breaking his father’s heart, really was selfish, too scared to do anything. 

if he had swallowed his fear, faced the music, done something, anything. 

don’t let this get away. don’t fuck it up. don’t fuck it up. 

lifting his hands from his awkward side, roughly placed on either side of your hips. 

using a newfound strength, he pulled you from the table, right into his lap. 

falling into his wordless surrender, you let your body collapse into his, legs straddled on either side. 

your clothed cunt immediately rolled against his length, pulling all of the blood from his body to an aching throb under you. 

addicted to the sheer desperation in the air, gravity itself forced your lips back together, making up for months of time apart. 

feverish from the first touch, wildfire to a field of wilted grass, burning oxygen faster than it could be replaced. 

each heavy breath another exposed confession, his grip pushing you into him even harder another apology for leaving you for so long. 

tongues fighting for a chance at forgiveness, soaking up the words that were too hard to exhale. 

he let out a soft whine at your separation, instant drop of his stomach as you pulled away from his bruised lips. 

dropping your head to the side, he shivered under your heated breaths against the side of his neck. heartbeat nearly visible, your swollen lips pressed slow praises down, not leaving an inch untouched. 

opposite hand keeping his jaw turned, you trailed your tongue back up, a smirk hitting your lips at the twitch you felt against your spread legs. 

no permission, no hesitation, just a gasp from his aching lungs as you sucking a mark of sheer possession in the form of broken blood vessels. grazing your teeth along with your vampiric latch, leaving a bruise dark enough no amount of makeup could cover. 

your hips now indented with the lines of his fingerprints, permanently etched into your skeletal structure. 

“bedroom,” you whispered into his ear, sin coating your voice in blatant need. 

body driven by nothing but lust, he stood from the couch as you wrapped your legs around him, one hand cupping your ass while the other was itching to open the door to a new life. 

it was all happening so fucking fast. 

you wanted him. 

this whole time, you wanted him. 

letting your head hit the plush of your bedding, he loomed over you with two devilish sparkles in his eyes. 

one glistening as his broken heart glued itself back together, your touch ensuring that every piece was perfectly aligned. 

the other shimmering in primal greed, suffocating any thought other than possession. to not lose the chance to keep you all to himself. 

a needy look twitched in your jutted-lip pout, a wordless plea for him to take what was his this whole. time. 

now fluid joints, unphased by the ache in his tortured hands, hooked under your shorts, no underwear in between. 

warm fingers against exposed skin, the small bit of decency on the floor with one swift effort. 

cold air hit your already wet cunt, a small trail of your sticky pleads following your clothing to the floor. 

“can i..?” he looked up at you for a moments time, not wanting to lose sight of your glistening slit like his life depended on it. 

you nodded, not letting the small voice of insecurity speak up before your aching heart did, unprepared for intimacy to this degree. 

or intimacy at all for that matter. 

a touchy subject, too used to getting hurt. leaving your life behind in the smog coated city, one night stands back in the poorly painted walls of your studio apartment. 

you thought you knew what love was, the overwhelming panic, the world ending promises to be better, to be prettier, to be someone they wanted. 

forcing the thought out of your mind, each synapse in your aching brain going fuzzy at the first swipe of his hesitant tongue. 

it had been so long since you had been touched, too afraid to ruin a friendship in such a small town. to not overstep your place as the new addition in an already woven community. 

too exhausted to do it yourself most of the time, the thoughts only settling in when it came to him. 

a single brush of your fragile bud make your ears buzz, the sheer ache to feel it again, and again, and again. 

silent prayers answered, waters tested, sam’s tongue writing apologies and months worth of confessions in your pooling slick, feeding him the first meal of his life. 

placing your hand over your mouth, muffled whimpers replaced exhales, sharp inhales through your nose not providing nearly enough oxygen to your racing heart. 

“don’t hide, pretty girl,” his slightly slurred voice stuck like honey, pulling your hand away without a second thought. 

his plea a few octaves deeper, your walls clenching around nothing at all and with his drunken confidence. 

like he would die of hunger if he strayed away any longer, you lost sight of him between your legs, tongue teasing your pleading hole. 

“sammy please,” you couldn’t do anything but whine, a fistful of his hair in your shaking fingertips. 

pushing his flushed face deeper, nose pressed against your clit, shoving his tongue in as far as he could. 

muffled vibrations of his satisfied moans shook your core to near collapse, the slight movement of his nose making your legs quiver against the side of his head. 

thighs increasing their strength, ensuring he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to, the telltale that you were already on the brink of release. 

the first of many, just the beginning to a man who would never forgive himself for leaving you for what felt like an eternity. 

no time for warning, words broken into a mess of jumbled up letters, your salty-sweet slick flooding his overworked taste buds at an alarming rate. 

nerve endings twitching, spine forced to endure repeated bolts of serenity with each spasm. all ten of his fingers bruising your thighs as he held onto them so tightly, a feeble attempt to keep you still until you rode out your first high of the night, your first in so, so long. 

finally able to breathe at the weakening of your hips, legs shakier than you would have liked them to be. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, more than enough of you on him, and he loved it. 

meeting your blown out eyes, you couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that bubbled over, dragging his long lost smile out of the dark with each little sound. 

both hands covering your face, embarrassed, nervous. 

how a man like him, so gorgeous, so gentle, would want a single thing to do with you, you didn’t understand. 

hiding away your feelings for him for what felt like ages, heart shredded when he took his reclusive leave, without a word on why. 

weeks spent spiraling, wondering what you did wrong, how you could fix what you didn’t even know. 

“nuh-uh, no thank you,” his tsks were so thick, so heavy as he pulled both your hands away from your face, eyes softening just enough at the sight of your embarrassment. 

“do you want to keep going?” question so very gentle, not assuming like you had always known. 

and it was fucking hot. 

a quick nod, a little shy at the urgency in your reaction, but needing him anywhere was all you could think of. 

you watched him stand beside you, a better angle to strip himself of his clothes. 

nearly drooling at the sight, you could have died and gone to the highest bits of heaven, and it wouldn’t compare to the feeling of him looking down at you with his hand on his cock, thumb tracing over his pre-coated pink tip, silver bar glistening. 

oh fuck. 

each scar that covered his arms, each muscle contracting with labored breaths, made a whimper fall out of you, like a bitch in heat. 

“needy girl, aren’t you?” he climbed on top of you, urging you to sit up just a little so he could tear away the fabric hiding the rest of you. “haven’t been touched in so. very. long. huh?” 

usually, patronizing teases would have angered you to the third degree, but it had you melting into his palms like ice cream on a midsummers day. 

feeling his fingertips graze over your whole body, thumbs baaareely drawing circles around your nipples, another guilty whine for more, more of him. 

“think you can take me without stretching ya out?” his demeanor turned a little cocky, nearly pulling a bratty remark out of you, just to run his tongue against your over-sensitive chest. 

palming one tit, mouth fixed on the other, you nodded without thinking. a muffled ‘mhm’ and a handful of hair, pulling his fixated mouth away. 

“tell me if it hurts, okay?” a sliver of seriousness caught in the bubbling excitement pooling inside his blood, you knew he really did mean it. 

length in hand, he lightly traced his leaking head up and down your already swollen cunt, a small attempt at teasing you before he plunged inside your screaming walls, begging to pull him in and not let go. 

both hitching in air through gritted teeth, holding onto the last molecule you could manage as he slid inside, so. goddamn. slow. 

maybe in fear of hurting you, but really trying to gather himself at the sheer grip you had on him, regretting his own choice to not stretch you at least a little before letting his greed take over. 

so warm, so wet, better than any drug he had ever taken, or ever would. 

“s-sam, m-more, please?” you begged, batting your lashes ever so slowly to not give him a choice, but needing him so, so much deeper. 

any sense of restraint lost as your pleading eyes surrendered to him, and who was he to say no? 

he would never say no to you, not after what he did. 

an obedient dog, snapping his hips into you, flush against you. knocking the wind straight out of you, only thing you could feel was him. 

settling in, head dropping as he lost all of his strength, losing it all to restraining his urge to breed you right then and there. 

“fff-fucking hell,” his sputters were whiny, causing a slight spasm around him. the sound of struggling, barely keeping it together drove you fucking. insane. 

feeling full, feeling whole, wanting nothing more than for him to destroy you, molding your walls to the shape of him. 

“sammy, please,” you shifted your hips slightly, pushing against his hip bones, brushing the sweet, sinfully sweet spot you don’t think had ever been reached. 

his blacked out eyes, taking photos of the scene to never forget how goddamn angelic you looked under him, committing a cardinal sin. 

white-knuckle grip on your sides, bruising your bone marrow with his desperate grasp. 

jaw slacked, eyes locked on the mess of slick you coated him in, a slight clench in his jaw. 

free of his chain link leash, a feral animal let free for the first time since its previous carnation, learning to live again. 

focused on nothing else but you, your pleas for him to claim you, to mark up your insides far beyond recognition, begging for him at every breath beyond this moment in time. 

his whimpers mixed with low hums and exhales with each violating thrust, veins pulsing, a sick smirk pulling on his lips as he ruined you. 

instinctually squirming away, the urge of another trip over the edge already settling in, overstimulation hitting you like a bullet train without its lights on. 

feeling the slight quiver of your legs against his hyperactive body, a hand released your side, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder without a falter in rhythm. 

held hostage, you swore you could feel him in your chest as he fucked into you again, and again, and again. 

hypnotized by the furrow of his brow, glossy lips swollen from his hyper focused bite, holding back his own profanities as he tried to hold back his own release, never wanting the moment to end. 

if heaven existed, it was buried deep in your cunt, chest bouncing with each relentless thrust. it was the dig of your nails, grasping on to whatever they could. 

it was your fucked out eyes, watering at the corners in desperate need, in submission to his every want, his every dream. 

since that very first day, you were the thought at hand when he was fucking into it, edging himself for hours as punishment for thinking of you that way. 

but your innocent glances, and hard to read gestures every friday, the time you wore a that dress, dancing along with abi at the flower dance. 

taking the masculine role while dressed in a white skirt, a little too short for such a windy day, excusing himself to the depths of the forest. 

back against an oak tree, knowing seb would come looking for him at any moment, and god did it excite him in such a twisted way. 

he couldn’t fuck his fist hard enough to get the thought of taking you then and there out of his mind, flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side. 

making you carry his cum around all day, slowly dripping out of you as you spoke to his mother. 

but this, the real thing, was better than any fantasy he could ever imagine, the sound of your sopping wet cunt pornograohically loud, each wall of your unpainted cabin holding onto your sobs for more, more, more. 

hiccups caught in your throat, back arched and nails leaving crescent moon cuts in his arms as your second snap pulled him in harder, deeper. 

watching you fall apart was the sweetest thing, spilling out onto your bedding as he refused to let up. 

a dangerous game, knowing he was teetering on his own edge from the start. 

“m-‘ya gotta let me know if this is gonna be-”, his words cut off by the purposeful squeeze of your walls, offering a raised eyebrow and your bottom lip bitten. 

nearly knocking the wind right out of you, he flipped you onto your stomach, forcing you onto your knees. 

“you think it’s funny, huh?” leaning over you to purr in your ear, only focusing on how empty you felt, needing his pierced tip beating the life out of your cunt. 

“mm-no,” you shook your head, face red, pushing your ass into him just a smidge, hoping he would grant you your wordless wish. 

a palm to your ass, red hot and stinging, a startled gasp slipping out as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. 

without a warning, his hips were pressed against your ass, one hand forcing your arch deeper, the other holding your hip to keep you upright as he rammed into you. 

mine, mine, mine. 

over, and over, and over. 

sobs of overwhelming everything spilled out of you, moans nearly cut silent by the permanent bruising to every inch of you. 

sucking him off so well, pulling him back in with a force greater than gravity itself, his jumbled profanities mumbled under his breath only making it that much harder to hold on to reality. 

“wanna-” stuttered breathing, feeling the twitch of his cock buried inside you flash like a warning sign. “wanna fill you up- m-make you mi-mine,”. 

higher pitched, through clenched teeth, you had never heard a man so shattered, so beyond steady that his eyes blurred. 

the most you could offer was the push of your ass against him, too close to your own unraveling again  to remember a single word. 

his hand slid from your hip to your swollen, battered clit, squirming against him as the warm pad of his middle finger matched his sacrilegious pace. 

a matter of seconds is all it took, suffocating his overworked length that much tighter, too lost in your own ecstasy to feel the ropes of sin inside you, met with a loss of rhythm and short gasps for air. 

a weak attempt to catch your breath, feeling him slowly relax inside you, blood making its way back to his shaking hands and overworked core. 

releasing himself from your now relaxed grip, his fingers ran small circles on your back, delicate whispers that slowed your heart rate to normal. 

drained, all the energy stored in the form of internalized anxiety depleted, no control over your emotions anymore. 

a silent sob, tears of everything allowed to flow free at your relaxed inhibitions. 

“shhh-shhh it’s okay, it’s all okay,”. he pulled you up from your knees, gentle fingers moving you to his lap. 

head against his chest like a child, he rocked back and forth ever so slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his own tears at the sight of you upset. 

what happened ? is she okay ? what- 

“never-” your muffled words caught behind a screen of hyperventilation. “never run away like that again,”. 

your heaving body against his, his heart paralyzed at the sheer heartbreak rooted in your syllables. 

so goddamn mad at himself for bringing you to tears, but so fucking relieved that you wanted him to stay. 

“i-” a tear stained hiccup, an attempt to bury yourself inside of him completely, “i thought you left and didn’t say goodbye,”. 

she-she thought i would do that..? 

“shhhh, no no no, i’m not going anywhere,” cradling your face, letting a small stream pool over his lash line. holding his breath enough to mask the sputtering spasms thrashing around in his chest. “i would never, ever, do that to you. i promise,”. 

“pinky promise?” you pulled your face away from his chest, blurry eyes meeting his. raising your fragile hand, awaiting his interlocked promise. 

“pinky promise,”. interlocking without hesitation, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“will you stay tonight?” body running cold, the fear of him leaving settling in your stomach, overtaking the bubbling acid. 

“i will stay with you forever if you asked me to,”. gentle, soft. thumb against your cheek. 

“will you stay forever, then?” 

“anything for you,”. a gentle kiss on the nose, a sigh of relief mutually exhaled. 

tears dissolving, mending two broken hearts as they dried. 

matched breathing, hearts beating in unison. 

anything for you.

---------------------------------------------------------

long time no see! so sorry this was so delayed, i had to work an insane amount of overtime at work and had a massive lyme flare up.

i have an alex fic in the works, who else would you like to see?

lots of love to @justwolosers for being there through all this!

mwuah! ᥫ᭡。