#youre not allowed to say hes bad in bed if your soul gets ripped from your body.

[vacantvisage]

sorn orlith signing an nda to have sex w raphael, genuinely respectful about his privacy but also not understanding it is in fact a Real Contract From A Real Devil and Not A Gimmick: teehee its like a little slave contract

[cvnt4him]

Izuku dating a literal insomniac 🫡

Let's see what I can come up with<3

Restless nights are the worst. Being unable to do the one thing you want and need most in the world is making you go crazy. You sigh heavily as you try and force yourself to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed everything catching your attention besides tiredness. It's annoying you deeply.

You completely give up after you see the clock, 12 am. You have things to do tomorrow and you just know you're going to be tired but oh well. Your body doesn't want to cooperate, your mind doesn't want to shut the hell up, it's like nothing wants to do what you need.

You have nothing to do, it's literally midnight the whole world should be asleep. So why can't you get to sleep? The question that you keep asking yourself night after night as you restlessly scroll through social media. Nothing is interesting you long enough, everything is boring and annoying. Gosh this is really starting to piss you off.

The main reason you were trying to even go to sleep at better times was for your boyfriend. You'd told him about how your nights were going and he instantly called it "insomnia". Izuku was nothing more than a heavens sent, he loves having you over and loves sleeping with you! Unfortunately it's not exactly allowed to have the opposite gender in your rooms after hours.

Normally you two would just sneak to one another, however recently aizawa has been doing dorm checks and caught you two in the bed with each other. He barred you two from seeing each other after hours. It was literally like your soul had been ripped out of you. You seem to sleep better under izukus watch, next to him in bed, his body heat warming you comfortably.

Yet now that you don't have it you feel like you're going crazy. You another heavy sigh leaving you, you figure you have no other choice. You'd have to wake your boyfriend. It hurts your heart even just thinking about waking him, you knew he was asleep by now and understood he needed it. You contemplated even texting him but it's like your fingers were moving on their own.

" hey u awake??"

" unfortunately so😞"

" can't sleep? :(("

You sigh again, surprised that he was even awake you thought for sure he'd be asleep.

nope it's getting on my fucking nerves bro

" I'm sorry hon, I wish there was a way I could make you feel better :( "

" I could always try sneaking out!!😼😼"

" so, uhm, no!😓 I don't want you getting in trouble "

" wtf am I supposed to do. Js sit here n look at the fucking ceiling?????"

You groaned angry he wouldn't let you go to him. It's all you wanted and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it to. You just wanted to be in his arms was that so bad????

" wanna call?"

" maybe my voice will help you calm down, yk like out you to sleep or smth?"

Reading that text your anger completely disappeared, literally evaporating at the thought of hearing his voice. You missed him so much.

"yes please!!!!!💕💕"

" you got it ml💗💗"

You rolled on your side and held your phone close to your chest until you heard it ring picking up within an instant. You squealed and giggled into the mic causing him to chuckle, his light voice slightly groggy. Despite him only chuckling you can hear the tiredness within it.

“ hello, my love.”

He spoke lowly slightly whispering with a chuckle laced in his voice, you could hear the smile on his lips. He was just so cute you couldn't help but kick your feet. He gives you such cuteness aggression.

“ hi baby!!! I miss you.”

You say back to him making him hum, he missed you too he didn't even need to say it, you already knew. He exhaled into the mic before yawning, it was just so cute you couldn't help the line of giggles that escaped.

��� you need to get some rest my love, I don't want you to be tired in the morning.”

“ I know but I just can't sleep... I just want to like, hear your voice I guess.”

“ hmm~, what am I gonna do with you, eh?”

His tired voice was undeniably attractive, it made you bite your lip subconsciously. When he hummed into the mic it gave you butterflies, it was just so... Moving.

Silence fell upon the two of you, a comfortable one at that. Hearing his breath wavering, the sound of him inhaling and exhaling did indeed bring you at peace. It was calming in an odd sense, it was almost as if he was really there. You looked at the time, 2 am.. god you couldn't believe 2 hours had already passed.

With a sigh you'd decided to try once more. You'd try to fall asleep, this time having more hope that you could with your boyfriend on the line. You get comfortable, the sound of covers moving and shifting being heard on his end a hum left him again. You could tell he was tired or almost sleep, it made you feel bad. After getting comfortable silence was there again, just the sound of his breathing coming through. You decided to say one last thing before trying again.

“ I love you, zuku. thank you.”

You closed your eyes with a sigh, lying there for a couple of minutes, random things started flooding your mind instantly causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“ love y’too...”

That snapped you out of your little daze, all the things running through your head instantly vanishing at the sound of his voice all hushed and quiet, his words slurred and smushed together. It was just too adorable. You giggle slightly and close your eyes once more with a smile present on your face.

AN: hope this is good idk I've been feeling down lately like so much is happening I'm just drained. This was kinda rushed but hope it's good<3333

[evilminji]

A Moral Dilemma! Question!

Let's say there is a trucker. An average man. Kind enough, did okay in school, loves his wife and misses her like you wouldn't believe every time he has to go. Misses his little girl even more. HATES he's missing the early years of her life. First day to school, getting her up and brushing her hair into pigtails, making pancakes like his Pa used to make. The works.

But the economy is shit. Him and his wife have to work. Make ends meet. They're DESPERATE to get out of Gotham. Move somewhere boring. Safe.

But... well, places like that cost money. Kids cost money. And he did OKAY in school. Not a lot of jobs out there for "Okay" guys from Gotham.

His cousin finds him a route though. A solid job. Really pulled through when push came to shove and things were looking bad. Like he might have to take up that offer to Goon. Now he's a trucker.

And his route? Well the half way point is Amity Park. He stops to stay the night every time. Never really STAYS, has heard they got themselves a Cape and such, but? It is what it is. He's from Gotham. He minds his business. Parks on the outskirts of town to avoid getting hit.

Doesn't realize, he's getting SOAKED in Ectoplasm every time he's in town.

And this trucker? Not the healthiest man. He wishes he could be. But life on the road is not exactly conducive to fresh fruit and leafy greens. He eats more grease and sugar then his doctor would EVER recommend. In fact, has specifically warned him not too.

But some days you just need a warm meal. You miss your kid, your wife, your bed. And you know it'll be days before you can see any of them. But at least there is pancakes.

You can pretend you're eating with your family. Or at least, let the coffee be warm enough for the two of you. God, but the poor man is tired.

And as he gets close to Gotham?

Breaking News!

The Joker. AGAIN. The trucker cringes, horror filling him. What poor soul has that mad man hurt NOW? When will it end? Him and his wife are so close to getting the hell out. Thinking Kansas. His wife has been joking about pie baking competit-

No.

Oh God No.

There, on the screen, tears streaming down her beautiful face? Is the love of his life. His best friend. His EVERYTHING. And in her arms, trying so, so hard to be quiet. To muffle her terror born sobs... is his little girl. One pigtail torn from its srunchie, blood on her tiny face.

The trucker knows how this story ends.

Batman will try. He ALWAYS tries. And sometimes... sometimes that's enough. But he knows the odds here. His family are in front. Stars of this sick show. The trucker can't breathe. His heart is pounding, too hard for a man of his health.

He's not young. Should be on blood pressure meds he simply cant afford. Is panicked by a terror few should ever suffer. And? What runs in his family, strikes true. It feels so far away, the pain in his chest. He... No, he can't.

He can't.

His family.

He can't die. Leave them. They're in danger! They can't die like this. So close to freedom. Happiness. They... the..y.. ca..n..t...

.

.

THEY WON'T. HE REFUSES.

~~~

So! Here in comes the QUESTION! As you sit, watching this terrified child call for her father, ripped from her begging mothers arms, you see a green opaque man full body tackle the Joker.

You watch his eyes visible glow and change color, fight a visible STRUGGLE, like jeckle and Hyde, for control of his body. Between the monster known as Joker and what seems to be? The little girl's newly Meta father.

The Father wins.

You watch the Bat arrive with the police. Thank the man and say he can release Joker into custody. See the EXACT moment the Meta realizes something. Turns to look at his daughter, then his wife. Looks back at the commissioner.

Says "No".

Is he right to do this? To Possess the Joker, as a life sentence, to insure the safety of others? He is perfectly will to sit that life in a jail cell. Knows he will never be allowed to roam free again. But! The Joker is contained.

Is this Right? Or merely emotionally satisfying?

Discuss :3

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[idk6123]

Boring Foster Home, Interesting Roommate (Lip Gallagher X Male Reader)

Getting back to foster care it’s always temporary. One way or another, the Gallaghers always stay together, for the better or worse. Still, foster care is a bitch, and somehow the group always end up with the worst kind of foster parents. Lip wasn’t surprised at all to learn his foster parents are devout Jehovah witnesses.

“We hold a daily bible study at 4PM. We expect you to dress modestly all the time. You need to ask permission to use the phone, and no cellphones allowed. We don’t allow any kind of media that defies our beliefs. Alcohol and drugs aren’t allowed. Any breaking of these rules will be swiftly punished.”

To be honest, Lip doesn’t listen at all as he follows his foster father. He’s smart enough to know what being a Jehovah Witness is about, and he can summarize it in one sentence: no fun at all cost. They get to the upper floor, as they get pass multiple bedrooms, where he sees other children. There are around 12, as he counts. Most of them years younger than him. Luckily, he manages to get roomed up with someone around his own age.

“You will be sharing your room with Y/N. He helps you settle in. You two go door to door tomorrow, so no fighting.” The middle aged man disappears.

Lip walks in, with Y/N looking pass his bible, which he holds. “I love when people look dead inside the first time they get in here.”

“Not the only time I do.” Lip merely replies. He curiously looks at the bible, but Y/N reveals what he’s actually reading.

“Porn. Gotta be creative around these people.” From between the pages, Lip sees a magazine with many ripped and shirtless men.

Lip then put his bag on the other bed. When he first got here, his new foster parents searched through it and confiscating everything that isn’t allowed to be here, which is about everything.

“Want some help?”

“Not really. They already took 99% of what I brought.”

Still, Y/N closes the bible and stands up to help Lip, mainly with his clothes by putting them in the closet. “Dead parents?”

“Only dead beats. You?”

“Just dead. Since I was 2.” Y/N says as both guys unpack. “Funnily enough, this is better than the previous foster parents.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

-

The next day, the family got out in the neighborhood and split up to spread the special message. This is the only time they’re allowed to walk freely. That being said, they can’t go anywhere. They only get 4 hours, where they need to be checked up every hour. During the checkups, they get frisked if they get anything bad on them, such as cigarettes. However, that won’t stop the duo.

“They usually feel pity for me and give me there junk. Pretty sure they got something for you too.” Y/N says as he and Lip walk over to a house to knock on the door. After some seconds, the door opens, showing an old grandma. “Hello, Mrs. Partridge.”

“Oh dear god, you’re back.” The old lady then looks at Lip with a sympathetic face. “I see they dragged another unfortunate soul.”

“And I won’t be the last.” Lip semi jokes.

The grandma sighs in disappointed. “Let me get something for you.” She turns around and walks away.

“Lovely lady.” Lip comments.

“Not really. She just really hates Jehovah Witnesses. She’s catholic, you see.”

“Natural enemies.”

The granny walks back, holding a bag of stuff, which she hands over to Y/N. “Make sure to not belief in their lies, young man.” She says motherly to Lip.

Lip put his hand on his chest as he takes an oath. “I won’t.”

“Good boy. Have a sweet day.”

Y/N and Lip turns around, with the one holding the bag checking it out. “Oh, she’s generous today…”

-

On a bench in the park, Lip is smoking happily, while Y/N is drinking the beer they got. Both of them intend to call it a day and not knock on the door.

“This is some good stuff.”

“Yeah, she usually gives them to me after her husband got long cancer.” Y/N explains. “Not really one of the cigs.”

“More for me.” Lip then gestures Y/N to give him the beer bottle, which he passes on. After a sip, he gives it back. The blonde then looks at the bag of loot. “I’m going to get cancer too if I take all of that.”

Y/N looks back at the bag, seeing the stacks of cigarettes. “I sell what I have over. Speaking of which.” He looks back at Lip. “They take our money when they find out, so we need to hide it.”

“In our assholes?” Lip looks amused.

“No. They can’t check them out, since we’re foster kids.” Y/N says, knowing if they aren’t, they would. “Just put them in your undies and your fine.”

“Cool. 50/50 split?”

“Sure.” With that, they give each other a box as they continue their vices.

-

Later that day, and it’s time to read the bible, the only book they’re allowed to read. They ate their dinner, and now they just have to wait to sleep. During this time, Lip feels like it takes forever until something interesting happens. It’s too early to sleep, and yet sleeping sound more fun than reading.

Both teens are lying on their bed as they read, but Lip knows what Y/N really is reading.

“Looking at porn?”

“Yep. You might as well call this the Bible.” Without looking away, Y/N talks. “Want some too?”

“Are they all gay?”

“Yeah.”

Lip sighs. On one hand, he isn’t going to enjoy it. On the other hand, he takes everything over reading this. “Whatever. Give it to me.”

Y/N closes his book and get off his bed to lift up his mattress. “What do you feel? Doctor’s appointment? Teacher romance? Military training?”

“Military training.”

Y/N grabs it and throws it towards Lip, who catches it. He put it between the pages of the bible. As Lip begins to check it out, Y/N gets back. In front of him, the genius sees a muscular men wearing military outfits while showing their sixpacks as they touch each other. As Lip opens it, he notices something.

“There is an entire story.”

“Yeah, I’m one for buildup. Think it’s more fun.”

Lip hums. Thus, he begins reading it. He isn’t sure he actually likes it, or he’s that bored he takes gay porn. Still, he likes it. To his surprise, he likes it too much. As the time passes, Y/N sometimes takes glances on Lip, to notices him way too invested. He merely let him be. It takes some time before Lip closes the book.

“Got another one?”

“Did you had fun?”

“Playing with dirt is fun when you live here.” Lip says with a smirk.

Y/N hums. “You know? There are other things we can do then reading porn.”

With a mischievous smirk, he looks at the curious teen, who couldn’t help but look at him. With swiftness, the blonde stands up, jump on Y/N and they begin making out with each other as they begin unclothing themselves and each other.

-

“And?”

“Pretty good.”

Underneath the sheets of Y/N’s bed, both teens lie next to each other as they recover after their good time.

“And here I thought you were straight.”

“Glad you proved me wrong.” Lip smirks. “I can see why Ian likes it so much.”

“Who’s Ian?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother sounds like a wise guy.”

“No, he’s a moron.” Y/N laughs, as does Lip. As they do, seconds pass and they become quieter.

“I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances.” Y/N speaks up. “Not in some dumb foster home where I can’t even kiss a guy.”

That’s when Lip thought of an idea. “We can make it so foster care take us back.”

Y/N is surprised to hear that. “We can?”

-

It takes around 2 days for Lip‘s plan to be executed. During which, they set up camera’s in the bathroom, specifically the shower. They planted booze and drinks around the house, hidden, but easy to find for the cops. After gathering their footage, they did what they did and now they can follow up through it.

They make sure their foster father is in the kitchen, while both of them are standing at the living room. With it being an open floor plan, they can be heard easily, without talking to their foster father directly.

“Dude, did you heard?”

“About Mrs. Cunningham?” Y/N replies. Now, their foster father is curious what they’re talking about his wife. “The entire school is talking about it.”

“I still find it ridiculous. Just thought of it.” Lip makes sure to choose his words wisely. Enough for Mr. Cunningham to be curious, without asking them directly. “I checked it out, and they’re right. She’s on MilfsSeeker.”

“And to think she’s so devout… Real shame.”

Both teens hold their smirks as they hear Mr. Cunningham grabbing his laptop and begin typing. It takes a couple of minutes to hear something.

“By the mother of-!? Wanda!”

Both teens can’t help but snicker a bit as they hear the man stomping on the stairs. It doesn’t take long as they begin screaming to each other, with both teens looking up to hear it.

“Are we going to call them now?” Y/N asks.

“Yep.”

-

And so, they’re back at Foster care without a home, where they’re being asked about their former home situation. The younger ones were asked separately, while Lip and Y/N both got questioned together. Both of them are sitting at an office, talking to a lady.

“I sometime see her smoking on the porch. Looks like she did it on the regular.”

“Me too. Mrs. Partridge warned me about them. And turns out, she’s right.”

“We make sure something like this ever happens again.” The woman says. “We want to sincerely apologize for putting you in such a dangerous situation. Especially after Mr. Cunningham became physical.” The woman then looks at Lip. “I got good news for you. Everything has been taken care of back at your family, and you’re allowed to go back.”

“Finally.” Lip mutters tiredly.

Y/N smiles. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Lip says with a smile as he looks at him, only to see Y/N’s hollow eyes. Even if he left this bad foster home, it’s unknown what crazy other foster home he goes to. Thus, he looks back at the foster home lady. “Is there any chance Y/N can go with me?”

“Lip?” Y/N looks surprised he would do something like this for him.

“I’m sorry, but you need to have permission to take care of a foster child, even if they’re 17 old.”

Although Y/N looks disappointed, Lip got a better idea. “I know who’s allow to.”

-

“Welcome to your new home, buddy!” Y/N is extremely startled as Kevin warmly greets him. In the sunset, he sees his new house. He would describe it has a ghetto, but Kevin and Veronica look like good people, so he sticks around for now. “You’re going to love it here.”

“Don’t act so exciting. You’re scaring him.” Veronica scolds him.

“It’s alright. It’s way better than… all the other foster homes I was in.”

“That’s because we’re the best!” Kevin proudly smiles. “Let us show you to your room and help you unpack.”

-

Inside of his new room, Y/N is unpacking all his bags. It isn’t much, because he wasn’t allowed much. It’s mostly clothes. He was quite insisted he can do it on his own, which Kev and V both respected and they get downstairs to prepare for dinner. As Y/N unpacks, he hears a tick from the window. He didn’t thought much about it, until he hears it again. Thus, he walks over it and look out, to see Lip outside, who was throwing small stones. With a smile, Y/N opens the window.

“Hey, I heard a cute guy moved in and I thought I should say hi.”

Y/N chuckles. “Hey. You really did me a favor.”

“Oh no, it’s not a favor. It’s a deal.” Lip explains. “You see, I got you a better home, and in return, I expect a date.”

“Like you didn’t get that either way. You should’ve demanded for more.”

Lip hums amused. “I could always ask for sex.”

“I can repeat my previous statement, but sure.” Y/N smiles. He looks back at his room, before looking back at the guy he likes. “I have to pass for today though. Dinner is almost ready and want to sleep normally.”

“Sure thing. Buuut… I still feel like spending time together. Any chance Kev and V can add another plate?”

As both teens smile, Y/N can easily reply with one simple answer. “Sure.”

[mattivoda]

This post isn’t targeted towards this person in particular but I see this same sort of tiktok come up on my timeline every couple of months and it feels me with a very specific RAGE because of how wrong it is about the core message of this show.

For those who don’t know, the music from the TikTok comes from the musical The Last Five Years, made by Jason Robert Brown. It originally opened in Chicago in 2001, then making its way to Broadway in 2002 after great reviews from critics and audiences.

the elevator pitch of the show is simple; a writer exploding with success (Jamie) and a struggling actress (Kathy) and the rise and fall of their marriage.

Normally this would be a pretty basic musical, right? However the true genius comes from one key part of its storytelling: the order at which the story is shown to you.

Jamie performs his side of the story in chronological order, from the start of the relationship ending with their divorce. Kathy, however, tells her story flipped; starting with their divorce and ending when Kathy first meets Jamie.

The two actors almost never interact on-stage, singing solo songs for every single song except for the act one ending song The Next Ten Minutes, where Jamie proposes and the two marry.

Now you might be asking: why is this important to the story? and which character was supposed to be the “bad guy” in the marriage?

If you delve into the story and look at the way the story depicts both characters’ perspectives on what happened then an obvious fact becomes clear:

Jamie is an asshole and was the main problem in the marriage. You aren’t, and never were supposed to side with him.

Throughout the show, Jamie is shown to be obsessed with his own fame, gloating about how he seems to only be able to exponentially succeed in his writing. His obsession makes him blind to the struggles of his wife, even going as far as deluding himself into thinking his wife’s struggles is simply her being jealous of his success. By the end of the show, Jamie cheats on Kathy and proceeds to blame her for not allowing him privacy.

THAT’S why the storytelling of The Last Five Years is so compelling. By only showing these characters seperate from each other, it forces us to become familiar with Jamie and Kathy as individuals rather than a couple. It allows us to see Jamie’s douchebaggery up-close and personal, with the entire first act highlighting this glaring detail and allowing us to see the consequences of this as his marriage devolve in the second act. Just the simple fact that Jamie’s story is chronological creates a beautiful dichotomy between Kathy’s frustrations, sadness and abandonment and Jamie’s cocky, happy-go-lucky success story.

Before I finish writing this and go to bed, i’d like to say I don’t blame those who hold this view for thinking this about The Last Five Years for one reason only; the only way they got to see it was the movie version.

the film adaption of The Last Five Years (2014) decided that the reason the musical worked was because “interesting timeline go brrr” and decided to keep the original timeline, but instead had both characters constantly interacting.

Instead of having this abstract deconstruction of these two characters, with both Kathy and Jamie monologuing their personal thoughts and emotions separately, they mash together and create this weird, realistic depiction of a breakup. The performances from Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan were amazing, don’t get me wrong, but these choices in the adaption rip the emotion and soul out of its inspiration and sell the corpse for $20 a viewing.

Jamie and Kathy’s marriage is a cautionary tale about what happens when you don’t listen and understand your partner. It is not a desperate attempt of a composer to appear in the right about his marriage and it shouldn’t be a sloppy retelling of a failed marriage with a quirky form of storytelling. Please please PLEASE if you agree with this original TikTok’s message just know you are so UNBELIEVABLY wrong.

tldr; you are not supposed to side with Jamie!!!! he is in the wrong!!!! that’s the whole point of the musical!!!!! don’t watch the movie it sucks and is innacurate!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHH

[hazzyking]

This was inspired from something that happened to be in character Ai except here we get to use big girl words 👍🏻

Sorry this took so long. I'm bad at life.

Also. Buggy is an asshole in this one so that's a warning

And it's smutty

POV: After last night's kitchen quickie, you finally confront Buggy about what happened.

Apologize part 2

"Oh my GOD, just leave me alone! Why do you have to shove your big ass nose in everyone's business!?" You shouted. Before you had time to think about what you said, you had already said it. And immediately felt the guilt seep into your gut. "Buggy..." You tried to save yourself by grabbing his arm, but he yanked it away from you and stormed out the room. "Fuck" you cursed yourself and slammed your fists on the bed like a toddler having a tantrum. You sat on the bed with your head in your hands, beating yourself up over your outburst. He was only being playful... you could've just played along... but you were so irritated that day...

_________________________________________

"Is he still shunning you?" Moji asked as you sat at the breakfast table eating cereal in silence.

"Yeah" you muttered softly.

"You should apologize," Moji said.

"He was pestering me... he knew I was gonna explode. " You sighed, taking a bite of cereal.

"Maybe he wanted a fight, you two are hardly ever at eachothers throats... maybe he was trying to find something to argue about" Moji shrugged.

"He didn't fight he just walked away"

"Well he probably didn't wanna fight about his nose" Moji chuckled.

"How-"

"We hear everything," Moji said, looking deep into your soul.

"O-oh," you said, blushing profusely. You look down at your soggy cereal and then back at Moji. "I need to go," you say, getting up from your seat and matching to the captains quarters as you got closer to the door, you felt your heart bound in your chest and a red heat crawl up to the tip of your ears. you stormed into his office. Buggy, sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, jolted his head up and stared at you in surprise "what the hell Buggy!?" you said in an accusatory manner.

"w-what the hell?" Buggy retorted, more confused about your question rather than your entrance.

"You're mad at me because you annoyed me" you stated.

"no. im mad at you because you used the words "big ass nose" instead of being a big girl and telling me to leave you alone" Buggy spoke sarcastically, with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"you need to be a big boy and stop getting so pissy about your fucking nose" you said back, equally sarcastic.

"fuck you" Buggy muttered.

"no, fuck you" you said. turning on your heel ready to leave the office.

"I think I will"

"huh?" Before you could question what he said, Buggy was standing behind you and pulling you towards him, then pushing you against the desk, and catching your lips with his, in a very rushed, very sloppy kiss. you gripped onto his biceps as his arm pushed all the papers and ink bottles to the floor and slid your ass onto the desk all in one swift motion and without breaking the kiss. when you pulled away for air you noticed the ink had spilled all over the map he was working on "mph~ Buggy- the map" you moaned as he caught your lips once more.

"fuck the map" Buggy muttered as his kisses began attacking your neck. your eyes fluttered closed and you knocked your head back, allowing Buggy to start kissing and sucking on the skin of your throat, you let out a low moan as you pull him by the collar, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to get him closer. Buggy's tounge glides across your neck, followed by light nips of his teeth, your breath hitches in your throat as you fall back against the desk.

"Mm.. yeah- fuck the map" you mutter as he begins kissing down your shirt and pulling it down to expose your brests, your breathing heavily now as you feel him lifting your shirt over your brests and continues to kiss down your chest and stomach, both of your heavy breaths filling the room as he quickly ripped your pants off around your ankles, and he lowered his hastily.

"I need you (y/n)" Buggy moaned against your skin as his fingers swiped along your entrance coating his fingers with your juices, he smirked as he sucked his fingers clean and slid the tip of his cock inside of you "ugh~ I guess you need me too Baby~" he groaned, his words getting stuck in his throat as he slowly slid his full length inside your pussy, your nails dug into his arms as he slowly begins thrusting

"I-I don't want to fight anymore- I'm sorry" you say weakly as his slow movements become unbearable.

"water under the bridge baby~" he groans as his pace quickens and you moan as his movements begin to shake the desk.

"o-oh god~" you gasp out as he continues the rough, needy pace, his cock hitting your g-spot and making the desk squeak with every thrust, moaning and groaning softly, sweat beading down his face in blue and red streaks. "B-Buggy '' you cry out. By now he'd have to stop so he wouldn't cum so quickly, but it's so early in the day- a quickie is almost required at this hour.

"fuck Baby~" Buggy moans under his breath as he thrusts into you. You moan in response, feeling your orgazm quickly approaching. "We need to fight more often~ this is so fucking good" he groans softly as he pulls you closer to him by the hips. You moan loudly as you cum on his cock, he keeps his pace rough and fast as he pumps his throbbing cock into you and cuts deep inside your pussy, his husky groans and the grip he has on your thighs almost turning you on again. 

"I'm sorry" you say in between breaths. 

"Me too" he responds, kissing your forehead gently. 

[jsluvtzu]

i promise

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: promises are made to be broken

cw: angst, slight fluff, suggestive towards the end, mentions of cheating, men dni

wc: 1.9k

a/n: my first fic!! please feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions :) pink text is a flashback

it's been one year. one year since you got your heart ripped to pieces. one year since your entire soul was crushed and you were broken down into absolutely nothing. one year since the girl you loved and thought loved you back left and took remnants of your heart with her. but that was a year ago. a lot can change in a year, right? now you were genuinely smiling again, going out with friends, finding peace. thoughts of her slowly faded away, only the good moments popping up once in a while. you were moving on.

at least that what's you thought until she showed up at your front door at 1 am on a saturday night. 

you heard soft knocks on the door as you sat on the couch, catching up on the last few chapters of your book. since it was raining tonight, you thought nothing of it. until you heard it again, this time louder and more familiar. you recognized that stuttered pattern of knocking that sana had, memories of the daily occurrence of her showing up unannounced flashing through your mind. still, there's no way it would be her at your door right? not after how things ended between you both. 

—

"you're being so fucking ridiculous right now, y/n. i told you it was just a work trip, right? do you not trust me?" the venom laced in sana's voice made you flinch. "i do trust you, sana. i just want the truth this time that's all." tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of her questioning your trust in her. "i just needed a break from all this" sana gestures her hand around the room, almost pointing directly at you. "all this? what are you saying?" you hesitated as you realized the intention behind her words. sana scoffed as she pressed her hand to her forehead, pacing around the room. as you stood there watching her get increasingly frustrated, you couldn't help but dread hearing her answer. you wanted the truth, but you knew it would hurt so much more than hearing her usual excuse.

the silence in the room was filled with your soft sniffling and tears that started falling without you even realizing it. sana froze up and took a deep breath, opening her mouth to say something, but not coming up with anything. your eyes were glued to the floor and your body felt weak. you couldn't even bare to look at her. "just tell me what really happened that night. please." your pleading was barely audible and your voice was small. "nothing happened, y/n. i promise."

this wasn't the first time she had been on a "work trip" and came back with a piece of evidence of her sins. it's the fifth time you've allowed her to walk all over you and force you to just accept it. "i saw it." but this time you were fed up with the lies. done with her blatant ignorance for your feelings. "what are you talking about?" sana asked as she started cracking her knuckles, a nervous tic she has. "the lipstick mark on your shirt. and the pictures. i saw it." you started choking up and the tears started flowing again. there's a pause in the atmosphere and sana doesn't say anything. she goes to sit on the edge of your shared bed. thinking. thinking of another bullshit excuse to give you. "i'm sorry." was the only thing she could come up with this time.

sana stood up and slowly walked over to you, your back turned and body frozen. she grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with hers. you hated it. you hated the way her hand fit perfectly in yours. hated the way her hands were the perfect amount of warmth and how soft they were. you were repulsed by her touch. and it hurt so fucking bad. you loved her so much, but you couldn't feel anything for her except disgust. you snatched your hand away from hers, making sana jump. you looked up at her for the first time in what felt like hours. you scanned her perfect features for any sense of guilt, or regret. nothing. only finding a small smile spread across her lips after finally making eye contact with you.

"you should leave." you managed to say as you silently praised yourself for having the courage to. sana's smile dropped and her eyebrows furrowed, confused. she chuckled in disbelief, not fully understanding the weight behind your statement. "what?" her voice slightly above a whisper. "i said you should leave." you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to hold back your tears and looked her directly in those pretty eyes of hers. fuck. sana slightly stepped back, shocked at the depravity of the situation and the consequences of her actions. a few minutes passed and sana collected herself enough to walk out of your room and house, slamming the door behind her. you broke down onto your knees as soon as you heard the door close, sobbing and debating if you made the right decision.

—

putting your book down, you got up to look through the peephole of your door, seeing the exact person you never thought you would ever see again. "what the hell?" you thought to yourself as you slowly unlocked and opened the door. seeing her again made your breath hitch and you felt those pushed down feelings crawling back up. her clothes were drenched with rainwater and her hair was damp. "hi." you saw a held back smile form on her face. you stared at her and stood back to let her in without saying anything. sana cautiously walked inside and took her shoes off, dropping her soaked jacket next to them. you noticed how her hair got longer. darker. her eye bags were abnormally visible and her figure got slimmer. god, has she been eating properly? you quickly shook off that instinctive concern towards her and brought yourself back to reality. 

"do you want tea?" you asked, knowing it was the usual when you were together. sana would come over and you would make each of you a cup of tea as you sat on the couch together. loving each other. but that's not what it is anymore. "no, i'm good. thank you." you nodded in response, slightly hurt at the end of the tradition. as you shuffled around the kitchen, you heard her call you.

"y/n." sana's tone was serious and you turned around from the kitchen island to face her. "can we talk? please?" she sounded so vulnerable. a side of her you don't remember seeing. you walked over to the couch and sat down on your usual side. the same couch where laughter and better memories were once made. sana joined you and sat on her side. your assigned spots on the shared couch remained the same, making you smile to yourself.

sana was stiff. reserved. her leg was bouncing up and down as she cracked her slender fingers on her left hand. your eyes were focused on her. observing her. "how are you?" you asked to try and relieve the tension in the room. "good, good, yeah. i've been good. how about you?" she was lying again. "i've been good too." sana looked at you and seemed almost upset hearing that. she nodded and looked back down to her feet.

"why are you here, sana?" there was no answer from her and you saw how restless she was getting. in the moment of silence, you reflected on things and realized how much you missed her. you missed her intoxicating scent. her presence. her laugh. her smile. it felt like home to you. she was home. all you wanted to do was hug her and tell her everything was okay, but you knew it was wrong. you silently cursed yourself for feeling this way.

"i just needed to see you." she finally said. "i wanted to properly apologize for what i did. everything. i fucked up i know. i'm so sorry, y/n, i took you for granted and i didn't realize what i was losing. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." her words were all jumbled together and she said sorry more times than you could count. her vulnerability was fully shown, tears streaming down her face and into the palms of her hands. you felt yourself crying along with her, but you quickly wiped the tears away. after choking out a couple more apologies in between her sobs, she looked up and saw your glassy eyes. she turned to face her body to you, giving you her full attention. "i've honestly been so lost without you y/n. i'm not doing good at all. i lied, okay. ever since that night, you're all i think about. i regret everything y/n i'm so fucking sorry. i still love you so much. i never stopped loving you. i was just too dumb to realize what i was doing to you. i’m so sorry for hurting you like that." sana frantically spewed out everything and you wondered just how long she's been waiting to get it off her chest.

she slightly slid closer to you, careful not to overstep the invisible wall between you. "y/n. please. say something. anything?" sana watched you intently as you sat there, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"why did you wait until now?" you finally said as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a form of self comfort. "i don't know. i just needed time to think. i was immature and was too embarrassed to admit it." she shook her head, disappointed in herself. "but i want us to try again. doing things the right way this time. maybe. i don't know." she sounded unsure of herself, almost like she was leaving everything up to you. she glanced at you to look for a reaction. any reaction. you let out a deep sigh. "sana.." your grip on yourself got tighter, grounding you. this was everything you've ever wanted to hear from her. everything you asked for back then. part of you wanted so badly to drop everything and say yes right then and there, but the rational part of you was forcing yourself to hold back.

"i know. yeah it's a bad idea." she sounded defeated and ran her hands through her damp, tangled hair. "i just don't wanna get hurt again, sana. i've been happy." you winced when you were reminded of what sana put you through. she looked at you with those same pretty eyes, slightly pouting. she moved even closer to you than before, placing her hand on your knee.

her perfume was strong and you felt an odd sense of comfort from it. she observed your face and admired your soft features. she reached her hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear, making every move gently and carefully. you untensed your body and let your arms drop into your lap. sana rested her hand on your cheek, caressing your smooth skin while she looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. you leaned into her touch and she noticed it right away, smiling at your action. you missed her so bad. but it was so wrong. you were making such good progress. you were healing. how dare she just show up like this and fuck everything up?

but none of that mattered anymore when her face somehow got impossibly close to yours. her thumb soothingly rubbed back on forth on your cheek as she eyed your lips with a slight hint of lust. your breathing got heavier and the tension was imminent. your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned in and closed the gap between you two, feeling her soft, warm lips against yours. you moaned into the kiss, deepening it with your hands pulling her closer around the back of her neck. she tasted so sweet that it was almost addicting. sana kissed you back passionately, using this opportunity as a way to show you how sorry she really was. you pulled away to catch your breath, pressing your foreheads together, breathing together in sync. "i'm not gonna hurt you ever again, y/n. i promise." and you knew it was only a matter of time before her promise was broken again.

[rokishimizu4]

Signal’s Fast Food Adventure

(I’m gonna be finishing up the BatFam headcannons on my tumblr, then take a small break before starting my actual BatFam story on my AO3, as I’m gonna be starting my new job soon and I need to get it into my routine. Doesn’t mean that I’ll quit posting, but I’ll be posting on my other blog more than on this one.) (Also, Reader is small and has those soul stealing gray/blue eyes, you’re welcome)

To say that Duke was so happy to be stuck on the day shift due to his powers and such would be undermining the sheer wiliness of Tim, who can barley stay awake during meetings on a good day, to replace him for an entire week after the spider incident.

Duke, while facing worse things than a giant spider that wasn’t even gonna hurt anyone, had allowed Tim to join him. Not because he was terrified that Tim would find someway to get him to agree, like putting a fake spider in his bed or something, certainly not.

But he was incredibly thankful when Tim returned to the night shift. Not that his brother was bad at being a daytime bat, but Duke knows that the daytime rouges would appreciate not getting a double dose of roasting from two bats (One bat bringing up mommy issues was enough, thank you)

Plus, the daytime rouges were polite enough not to attack during lunch rush (As the line to any fast food place, not to mention restaurant and gas stations, were packed with already hangry people) and mostly tried to pull off a few bank robberies instead of trying to blow shit up.

Speaking of the lunch rush, Signal sits down on the roof ledge overlooking some of the fast food places/ Restaurants that busy rouges and Gothamites frequently stop to grab a quick bite to eat (That a few tourists go to as well if they’re brave enough), and waits a good half an hour before making his way down once the crowd thins out enough that he could get in and out without being recognized. (Hopefully)

He waits a bit more, until he notices that someone was stepping out of the Batburger and placed a sign out a bit away, then turning back and going back in.

Signal smiles to himself, before dropping down onto the empty sidewalk and casually walking past the sign into the restaurant. (Which reads: Closed for cleaning, this is not an invitation to rob us! Signal is watching!)

The bell rings with the pleasant dings of common dinner bells (not unlike Alfred’s little dinner alarm) as the smell of pure greasy food assaults Signal’s nose as his mouth begins to water and his stomach growls.

“Hey Mr. Signal! Got your order up and ready!” A man back behind the counter calls out with a smile, a gray wife-beater hugs tightly to the man’s chest and eagerly clings to his prosthetic hand/arm and steel plating. The man had a weird Australian/Canadian accent, but the man’s skin reminded Duke of a cup of coffee with either too much milk or too little (depending on the light, he guesses)

Signal just gives the man (who he’s not sure what the guy’s name is as he has no name tag) a smile and a nod. Eagerly taking the bag of four bat burgers and a large fries and setting money on the counter.

He turns to leave, but stops when he accidentally bumps into someone (much smaller than him cause he was almost reaching 6ft).

Cue him looking down into the pouting storm clouds above a flooding river eyes of a very small person, of whom was wearing a knitted purple and turquoise sweater and ripped jeans, and something in his chest flutters like when he first met Damien and won his respect after a brutal patrol.

“Sorry little one. Here, let me help you back up.” Cue Signal reaching up and gently grabbing the kid’s? Hand and starting to help them up, only for his powers to activate mysteriously.

”SHIT CLOSE YOUR EYES!”

Cue Signal running out of the restaurant and back up onto the roof of the tallest building close to the sun.

Cue Signal experiencing a different type of ‘ghost vision’, one were he feels a brief flash of pain of a needle prick, and a taste of chocolate. But, he sees nothing but white, hospital white but different.

Once, the vision is over, he rushes back down to the Bat Burger. However, the person he accidentally ran into was already gone but he swore that he could make out a faint smell of bitter chocolate. (Which was weird as there were nothing made with chocolate in the Bat Burger, not after the Riddler broke the Milkshake and ice cream machines months ago.)

“Hey Mr. Signal, back for a new meal?” The Australian/Canadan man asks as he points down to the ruined bag that was supposed to be Signal’s meal. (Smoking like it got lit on fire and everyone was too lazy to even put it out correctly)

*Biggest dramatic, one full of regrets getting up this morning, sigh* “Yes please.”

(Let me know if you want the reader to be an actual adult, teenager, or a child. Also, I’m like 5’2” but I’m an adult. I feel more and more like I should make the reader a child, so please let me know)

(Also if I should do a Eddie/Venom headcannon too)

[missusmiller]

Ignore this if you want and thank you for the hard work: Can I have a Scenario or one shot with Neteyam and fem S/O who is human but is sick, they are close friends and S/O always writes poems and songs for him, S/O has a heart disease that's why they are creating an Avatar for her, she loves to sing but she never sang again since she knew her heart and since she stayed on Pandora. But once she gets her Avatar body finally she can run, get rid of chest pains, fatigue, and the fear of dying and finally can sing again.

yayo // n.s x human -> na’vi reader

contains: lots of mentions of dying, heart disease, chronic illness stuff, soul transfer scene, fluff, shitty writing, drinking and being drunk, being in love with eywa cuz shes awesome

notes: this is not proofread at all my bad. also yayo means bird in na’vi cuz reader sings and birds sing so yeah aw so cute.

2.5k words

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was thirteen years old, roughhousing with Neteyam and his younger siblings on the forest floor. We were having endless amounts of childish fun until I collapsed onto the dirt in a fit of breathless wails. Pain filled my chest as my heart eventually stopped beating. Neteyam carried me back in a panic to the lab where I was taken to get medical attention. I was thirteen when they told me I had valvular heart disease. I was thirteen when my life changed forever.

When I was diagnosed five years ago, Norm wasted no time to make sure I got an avatar. That avatar was my escape from the decaying prison I call my body. It felt like forever until he allowed me to drive it and when I did I was still restricted from doing most things. My heartbeat in my avatar body translates through the link so if I went too hard, my human heart would suffer. My avatar just temporarily stopped me from feeling the constant aches and pain.

Everyday my human body was only getting weaker and the topic of my death seemed to come up a lot more often in hushed conversations between the scientists. I could see the pity in everyone’s eyes as I walked around the lab. The pitiful looks towards me put a bitter taste in my mouth.

The only things that kept me from rotting in my bed for days on end were music, my poems, and my loved ones. Neteyam visited on a regular basis, often with his siblings or parents.

On the days that it was just Neteyam, he got the opportunity to see songs and poems I wrote. I’d hum the melody, not having enough courage or energy to sing fully. Those days usually ended with me ripping out his favorite song or poem of the day from my journal and gifting it to him. The loss of paper was worth seeing the thankful smile on his face every time. Throughout the years of our friendship, he never seemed to have a clue that my more romantic writings were about him.

Speaking of Neteyam, his obnoxiously cute accent echoed through my room as he entered and announced himself, “Y/N, your favorite friend has arrived!”

“Yes, you are my favorite friend, Nete. Always will be until my demise pretty soon.” I said with a small, careful laugh. Everything I did these days had to be done with caution.

Although what I said wasn’t meant to be taken in a depressing manner, I didn’t miss the look of pity and sadness that swam in Neteyam’s big yellow eyes.

“Hey man, don’t be like that. It’ll be okay, Nete.” I lied, motioning for him to come over to my bed where I laid. Since he was entirely too big to fit on my bed he settled on the floor next to me. I reached out to pet his hair like I usually do to comfort him but his large hand gently stopped my hand from going any further.

“You are dying yet you still try to comfort me? Think about yourself for once, Y/N. You are the one that needs comfort.” Neteyam lectures me, a stern face meeting my sight. Ironic how he is the one saying this considering his history.

A sigh left my mouth and I rolled onto my back to stare at anything but his intimidating eyes. He wasn’t wrong. I’ve been making sure everyone else was okay with my situation without even making sure that I was okay with my situation.

When I turned back around and looked at him again, it was like I could feel the imaginary concrete dam of numbness break down. What followed was the flooding of all those emotions and throughts that were kept at bay. I have always despised the way that Neteyam could break my walls down so easily.

“You’re right. I’m not ready to die, I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared.” My voice cracked embarrassingly at the word ‘die’ but neither me nor Neteyam cared in the moment.

“You will not die,” He paused for a moment to confirm what he was about to say, “because Eywa can bless you like she did with my father when he was human. I prayed to Eywa for permission and she gave me a sign. My parents approve, Y/N. But only if you wish to do this.”

My eyes widened and I shot up from my bed, tumbling onto the floor which earned me a hiss of concern from my friend. Out of pure excitement and disbelief, I quickly sat up on my knees and grabbed his face to place many fast happy kisses all over it.

Immediately after my loving attack on his face, he had to take a few breaths from his specialized mask. I didn’t pay much attention to it, not knowing his breathlessness had been due to my actions.

“I—I didn’t know you’d be this excited.” He managed to choke out as a purple hue spread throughout his cheeks and ears.

“Nete, you are giving me a way to not only live longer but a way to live with the people I love. I can be with you, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Tuk without any of us having to wear masks. I can sing again. Like truly actually sing again.”

A large grin stretched across Neteyam’s face upon my realization. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss my voice. I used to sing him Earthly lullabies and songs in our youth before my heart became weak. Even though we were young, he would always tell me that I was going to be a strong singer much like his mother and Ninat.

The rest of the night we joked, hugged, and messed around. He even sang the same song to me that I used to sing to him as kids. The act alone made my heart felt like it was going to burst but in a good way not like the usual heart attack painful way.

Eclipse soon came and Neteyam had to leave to attend to his duties —future Olo’eyktan stuff and all that. We kept in contact for days after to prepare me for my soul transferring ceremony.

When the day arrived, I was both nervous and excited. There was always a risk that I could be too weak to make it through the eye of Eywa. But if I were to die I’d rather die and be with Eywa than anywhere else.

The scenery was absolutely beautiful. Tons of Na’vi sat in rows, their bonds connected to the ground as they chanted a prayer. The ground lit up with bioluminescent blue lights, the tree a beautiful pinkish purple.

Mo’at stood at the tree, awaiting me.

Neteyam carried my leaf covered body through the aisle and he gave me a calming smile to ease my nerves. Eywa gave him a sign so he had absolutely no worries about this.

He followed Mo’at’s instructions to place me diagonally to where my na’vi body lay. “See you on the other side, yayo.” Neteyam said before stepping off to the side to allow the tsahik to do her thing.

The rest of the process was unknown to me because after Mo’at started chanting, my consciousness began to float up and out of my body. All physical restraints were broken as this spirit form danced freely.

A breathtakingly beautiful woman came into my vision. She looked like nothing I had ever seen before. Her energy made me feel warm, like no harm could ever come to me.

“Oh child, such a pure spirit you are.”

If I had a physical form at the moment I’d cry in her arms. I felt so vulnerable. So much so that I couldn’t talk but she knew what I had to say. She felt so loving, I didn’t want to leave.

“You cannot stay, child. He needs you.”

“He needs you.”

As if on cue, my spirit was sucked from the high place back down to life. I shot up in shocked surprise. Everything was fuzzy and I lost any remembrance of where I was.

A pair of strong arms held my panicked body close to theirs and they stroked my hair until I calmed. The ringing in my ears soon became sharp, clear sounds. Sounds of my name being whispered. Sounds of the rain lightly falling. Sounds of leaves brushing against one another.

“That’s it, that’s it. Come back to me.” A voice that I’ve known to always warm my heart spoke. The result on my heart was as previously stated.

Everything came back to me.

I wasted no time to shout tearful praise for Eywa and the clan started ululating as a response of joy.

Neteyam couldn’t help the tears that left his eyes. I was finally safe. I was finally okay.

“Now we celebrate!” Jake Sully yells like one of his war speeches and the clan roared before they started leaving to regroup somewhere—I assumed.

I felt something behind me swish in excitement. I look and my face lit up. A tail. A really adorable cute tail.

“Get her some clothes and meet us at the party!” Kiri laughed to Neteyam and the Sully family left quickly.

My heart dropped at the realization that I was in fact fully naked, “OH MY GOD IM BOOTYBUTT NAKED!”

Neteyam’s laugh boomed through the forest and the sound only added to the fast paced beating in my chest.

“You are Na’vi now! It does not matter! Come on, I already have an outfit planned for you. You’ll love it.” He took my hand and excitedly dragged me along to wherever he had my clothes. We reached his home which was empty considering the surrounding Na’vi were down celebrating the latest gift from Eywa, my rebirth.

Neteyam took some pieces of fabric from a box and tossed them over to me. I unraveled them and blinked in confusion.

“How do I put these strings on?”

After instruction, trial, and error, I finally got the loincloth and top on.

Looking in the mirror that I gifted Neteyam a few months ago, I inspected this outfit that he had so much confidence that I’d like.

The top was made of colorful woven thread and fabric, almost like crochet, and it splayed on my body like a necklace but tied in the back. It provided enough coverage for me to feel comfortable while also feeling supportive since my body was built a bit differently than normal Na’vi women. The loincloth was a pretty purple color, probably made of the same material as Neytiri’s leggings, and it only covered the front part. But I didn’t mind because when I turned around in the mirror, my ass looked good.

“Your past human vanity will rot your mind.” Neteyam joked as he watched me pose so that I could look at my nice blue ass.

After his little remark I stopped posing and stuck my tongue out at him before stating, “You ain’t gotta be human to recognize sexy. Now let’s go have fun.”

As we ran down branches without a care in the world I finally for once felt truly happy. I did not have to care about my heart failing or me suddenly collapsing on the ground. No, now I was really living. Neteyam noticed the change in my attitude and it sent a flutter to his heart.

When we arrived at the party the energy was electric. Everyone was drinking, eating, and dancing. Laughter filled the air around us. After two hours of fucking around, I was definitely getting slightly drunk.

When a group of Na’vi started singing a song that I recognized Kiri teaching me, I did not hesitate to let my voice out for the first time in years.

Happiness radiated through my body. It was almost like a visible aura surrounding me as I sung.

When the songs were over, Jake stood up and started speaking which silenced the room, “I would like to make a speech about dear Y/N here.”

The smell of alcohol filled my nose when he spoke.

He gripped my shoulder in a very dad-like manner and continued, “I have watched her grow from a young girl to a strong woman with a brave heart. She has been a friend to the Sully family for many years. My children do not know of a life without Y/N. Today, I proudly claim Y/N as a Sully! As a sister to my children.”

I wanted to melt into the floor. Sister? I think I would rather kill myself. I appreciate his enthusiasm and I love the guy but come on man. I had to set things straight immediately.

“Sir! Sir! No, I can’t accept it!” I blurt out, causing flabbergasted looks from the entire Sully family and the rest of the clan.

In a drunken stupor I quickly attempted to explain myself, “I want to be a Sully and want to be a part of this family but not like this. I don’t think I could mentally handle being the sister to the man I love.” During my explanation I held my sight on Neteyam.

His wide eyes softened when he realized what I meant. My name softly left his lips like I would shatter if he said it normally. All I could do was fiddle nervously with my top while waiting for a reaction, any reaction.

“I love you too.” He shamelessly stated before he stole me from his father’s grasp and held me once again to his body. His hands were dug into my hair and waist as if I would fly away. Our tails whipped madly behind us which caused Neytiri to swoon over how in love we looked.

Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk who were off to the side eating dessert were now freaking out over the scene unfolding in front of them. Neytiri had to shush the three of them so that the lovely moment wasn’t ruined by their gossiping voices.

To Neytiri’s despair, Jake’s tipsy laugh echoed through the area as he said, “Well, you heard the woman! She’s a future Sully!”

The clan woo’d and chuckled and carried on with partying, the topic of choice of Na’vi girl conversations now being that Neteyam is unfortunately spoken for.

“I didn’t exactly plan on telling you this way or this…publicly.” I said while swaying with my newly acclaimed lover to the music.

Neteyam gazed into my eyes, “I quite enjoyed it, my love. Now everyone knows that you’re mine and I am yours.”

His new nickname gave me goosebumps. The complete bliss I was feeling had to be fake. This all had to be fake.

But when Neteyam took my face in his hands and kissed me so passionately, so lovingly, it brought me back to reality. He was truly mine now.

That night I was given a place amongst the Omaticaya.

A place amongst the Sully’s.

A place with the one I loved where I sang him to sleep with the same lullabies from what seemed like forever ago.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Tough day for bad bitches -Danny Words: 2,097 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Home' -by Catie Turner

XLII: Local Dumbass Knew What She Was Getting Into and Did It Anyways

The last time she dreams of Percy, Ara just opens her eyes and he's there, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He doesn't speak at first, just studies her with curiosity. 

She knows it's him and not a made-up Percy, someone has allowed them to see each other earlier than expected.

"You look like her..." he tilts his head. "But are you really..?"

Ara sits up on her bed, but she moves carefully, afraid to wake up if she makes the wrong move. "Percy, where are you?"

The boy looks around the room ignoring her question. "This is your place?"

"Our place," she knows Percy got his memories stolen just like Jason, so she starts with the basics. "When your mother adopted me, I asked if I could share a room with you just the first few months, cause I'd never slept alone," she tears up a bit. "Now I sleep alone all the time, here and in camp."

Percy smiles. "You are Ara, my sister, right?"

Percy calls her sister all the time, she was used to it already, but it's been months since they last spoke, months since they saw each other, and yet she is still a sister to him.

"I think someone wants us to talk," Ara continues, trying to keep it together. "Dunno what they want us to say."

"You sound kinda different from what I remember," Percy's eyes brighten. "You've been eating your veggies, Birdy?"

Ara abandons her bed in an instant and Percy hugs her as soon as she reaches him. The contact feels so real it makes her sob. She gasps. "I should kick your ass! You've had us worried!"

"I'm not having a blast out there either, you know?" He scoffs, squeezing her smaller frame tighter against him. "But I'm happy to see you, even if you look different."

She holds his face and looks at it hungrily: he also looks different, his features are sharper and he appears to be stronger now, judging by how she struggles to get out of his grip. "Tyson was close to finding you and then he lost track—"

"It's a long story," Percy cuts in. "But I promise you're close to finding me."

"Don't—"

"I promise," he insists, squeezing her shoulder. "Trust me."

"I always do," Ara pouts. "Don't die, Nemo. Or I'll force Hades to spit you out, just so I can kill you myself."

He laughs. "You got it, General."

I speak to Kronos's army using my charmspeak. "As the last child of Olympus, I carry the duty of defending it."

I lift the javelin and pray to any god that's listening to help me out, cause I really need to make an impression, and before anyone has enough time to doubt the reasoning of what I've said, I throw my spear at a Hyperborean. 

I watch him fall, then seize my compass and turn it into Almighty. I raise the sword over my head and scream. "FOR OLYMPUS!"

The monsters are pretty frantic, so Pollux has no problem keeping the hallucination going. I charge towards their army and when Chiron concludes Lily and I have no intention to slow down, he decides to distract Kronos.

My plan also works on most of the demigods from the enemy army. I can't blame them, Achilles never spared a soul, so running away is the smartest choice here. 

Pollux's power isn't strong enough to fool the monsters for long though, so they probably see just a blur, and they can't decide whether to run or stay. 

I jump off of Blackjack when we get close enough to the monsters. He rises from the ground with Pollux holding onto him and I land on top of Ethan Nakamura. As soon as I touch him, he screams in realization. "It's a trap!"

An arrow flies over my head, Lily has stopped a dracaena from ripping my head off. I get up and kick Ethan's stomach for good measure. I use my charmspeak again. "Give up!"

If I hadn't been blessed by my mother in advance, my reach wouldn't have gone as far as it does. The monsters closer to me drop their swords, and some get on their knees begging for mercy. Arrows come down flying all around me, evaporating the monsters on the spot. 

I run forward and a monster tackles me, but then a miracle happens:

Nico Di Angelo's arrival is enough to split the crowd. He's wearing black armor that, to be honest, makes him look really cool. He lifts his sword and kills the monster that has me pinned on the ground. 

I thought I'd failed to convince Hades, and even though I hadn't said anything to Lily, I'd assumed he was determined to let us die. I guess I was wrong. "Sorry for the delay," Nico helps me up. "But I know it's never a good idea to steal the spotlight from an Aphrodite."

It's the first time in days that I manage to smile. "Thank you."

"Son of Hades," Kronos sneers at Nico. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," the boy replies, lifting his sword again. "Would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico and I share a look and he picks Almighty from the ground, handing it back to me. "You're gonna kill him, or what?" He asks me casually.

Kronos notices me at last. Luke's eyes haven't looked in my direction in so long, that it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's weird 'cause he doesn't look any different, just... worn out.

But I, on the other hand, am a whole other version of myself.

"You," he seethes. "This is the last time you disrespect me."

"Yeah," I adopt a fighting stance. "It is."

The ground quivers under our feet and skeletons spurt out of every crack, seizing monsters without warning. 

"Drop your weapons and retreat!" I yell, Nico, Lily and I move together. "You're done!"

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos screams. "The dead are no match for us!"

"The dead are not the ones you should be worried about, old man," Lily says, aiming two arrows in his direction.

Hades shows up riding his spooky chariot. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."

"Hades," Kronos glares at him. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not," The god looks at Lily, Nico, and me. "My son and his friends convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." His eyes Percy. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, not all of them are deserving of oblivion. It would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

Kronos shortens the magical barrier and leaves most of us out, only a small group remains in it, and my brother is one of them. 

"NO!" I run towards it and Hades does too, but we're both pushed away.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Lily, he knew about Camp Jupiter before any of this happened and he never mentioned it!"

"If Chiron couldn't, what makes you think Nico could?" Lily leaves her dagger on Ara's nightstand and gets up. "His new sister is Roman, right? Perhaps he was afraid to lose his family again if he talked."

"So you're saying I shouldn't tell Annabeth about it?"

"Gods, no! She's having meltdowns left and right! She'll murder Nico! My sister's already way too pressed about the delays, don't freak her out more."

Ara scoffs, obsessively folding and unfolding the clothes she's planning to take on the quest. "I'll murder Nico when I see him—no wonder he never stayed here, he knew Jason would recognize him, that asshole..."

"Hey..." Lily stops her. "You can't be mad at him for wanting to protect his sister..."

"And where is his loyalty to us?" Ara demands grumpily. "He owes us."

Her friend stops her from folding more jeans and shorts. "Are, whenever he visits you're always fighting. You promised Hades he'd be welcomed with open arms—"

"He's the one who continues to act like we're out to get him! If he were nicer—"

"Ara!" Lily stomps her foot in frustration. "You always do this! You push Nico and me into the crowd, telling us it's easy because you have no problem doing it, but it's not fair!"

"You wanna talk fair?" Ara argues. "Nico saw us dying with worry every day for the last six months and said nothing!"

"What could he tell you that Jason hadn't? And being fair, Ara, after you met Leo you left camp like it wasn't important to supervise us anymore, like you'd gotten what you wanted from us so the rest didn't matter."

"I'm sorry?" The girl glares at Lily. "I care about this camp more than you seem to know, Lily. Unlike Nico, who only cares about his reputation!"

"How can you say that after what he did for us during the war?"

"He tried to kill my brother and felt guilty when it didn't work!"

"It wasn't his plan and you know that!"

"I don't wanna go over this again," Ara rolls her eyes and turns away from Lily. "I've got other things to worry about..."

"Like your prophecy?"

Ara freezes. Annabeth must've told Lily about it, so there is no point in asking how she found out. She wonders how long Lily sat with this information, letting it boil until she could spit it out. 

"I was going to tell you," Ara says quietly.

"I doubt it."

"I was going to tell you once I knew what it meant," she clarifies.

Lily starts to leave the room. "You're unbelievable, and I'm done."

"Don't do that!" Ara follows her out. "Why do you have to turn every conversation into a test? Every time I choose wrong, you treat me like I'm still small dumb Ara!"

"Because you keep hiding stuff only to tell us about them at the last second so we have no chance to stop you! You've always been like this, and that's why no one thought you'd be a good leader!"

Ara comes to a halt at the top of the staircase. "Did you?"

"What?" Lily stops midway down the steps.

"Did you think that as well?"

"It doesn't matter," Lily's eyes are cold, like two pieces of sharpened ice. "You move faster than I can think. I struggle to keep up and you don't care if I'm still grieving. Nothing's been enough for you since you became the daughter of Olympus."

"If you could believe in me for just a second, maybe I wouldn't need to do everything on my own."

"I believe in you," Lily's grip tightens on the handrail. "Learn the difference between concern and distrust, Strategus. Whenever you do something foolish is like you don't understand how lucky we are to have—"

"No," Ara replies, anger seeping through her words. "You are lucky to have survived, I worked hard to get here. I earned my place as Olympus's General, don't you dare say I'm here out of mere luck."

Lily looks up at her, eyes darkening. "You used Michael and I to crawl your way up, and you barely made it out," she turns and keeps going, quickly reaching the bottom of the stairs.

Ara stays at the top of the staircase, her chest tight and her head pounding. A girl calls her name downstairs and she immediately rushes down, thinking it's Lily.

She finds Annabeth instead.

"What's wrong?" Ara asks anxiously. "Not another delay?"

Annabeth's eyes are bright and eager. "Get your things. We leave in an hour."

My parents wake up and start fighting, which is something I never thought I'd see, but they're doing a pretty good job. Kronos runs to the entrance of the Empire State, and I lock eyes with Percy.

Clarisse and Chiron are out of the fight, and Annabeth and Thalia are trapped inside the border with him. I see him fall to the conclusion that I must do the one thing he can't.

"You're in charge," he shouts. "Don't make me regret it!" Before leaving, he tells Mrs. O'Leary to look for Chiron under the debris. 

Lily and Nico stand by my side, weapons ready. "Heard him loud and clear," Lily nudges my arm. "So you better do something."

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Hermes, Hephaestus—Take the mortals to safety!" The campers start pushing the people out of our way. I turn to the demigods that are left. "We end the war today," I lift my sword. "Camp Half-blood!"

Cheers and cries of war respond to my call. I roar a second time. "Praise Hades!"

Lily and Nico echo my cry, and some campers repeat it as they charge against the army of monsters. Nico's dad shines brighter, and he attacks Kronos's barrier with renewed force.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

[witchersmistress]

Monster part 9

Not a bad way to end a monday with another monster feeding. but i do feel that the end of this series will come to an end soon.. but dont fret my darlings August wont stay away forever

Trigger warnings: lots of feels, anger and self hatered and soft August and probably irratation at your truly but im pricklty what can i say

word count: 1K

my usual warnings, you do not have permission to copy my work in any shape way or form, if you do ill find you and haunt you for the rest of your days

Your POV

“What?” August asked. I looked into his blue eyes, trying not to lose it. “ I’m still pregnant, Price confirmed it” I reached across the bed for the chart that he left. I handed it off to him “ He ran test at the hospital because something just didn't seem quite right then he took so more blood and did another scan just to be sure that he didn't need to perform a D and C and he found baby B.” i felt  the tears spilling down my cheeks, August was silent and still. “Our son is still alive”

He collapsed to his knees after my statement. He looked up at me, his blue eyes swirling with so many emotions, taking one of his hands and placing it on the soft swell of my belly.” How is this possible? They were twins weren't they?”  he let out a shaky breath as he pressed his face into my stomach, his scruff tickling me as he moved his face feathering kisses along my stomach. “They were fanternal twins, so they had separate sacs and placentas. The one we lost had stopped growing, so the accident was enough to get my body to abort it. Your eyes became glassy as you looked at my belly, cupping your face, I picked up your head and spoke in a soft whisper “ He didn't get them both and he never will. My father will not win.” those blue eyes met mine and questioned my statement.

 you stood to your full height covering me in shadow “What are you saying?” you spoke softly,  face hardened slightly, kissed my hair. "Tell me what you want, little one. I'll give it to you. Anything. Everything. Just name it. Do you want more revenge? Do you want the world to fear you?" I stare blankly up at you as you rip off my sweater and make me face the mirror while resting his head on my shoulder. Feel your fingers working my muscles gently. Hear your heavy passionate breathing. Staring at the girl in the mirror with her skin flushed from arousal, I whisper, "I want someone to love me." I watch as my eyes well up, blurring the edges of my vision, making the girl in the mirror dissolve within the pools.

 Dissolve and appear more visually accurate to the life she has lived; the one she has barely existed in. Like nothing. No one's choice. Is it too much to ask? Fuck! It's too much to ask! There isn't enough moisture left in her eyes, the need to cry a throbbing sensation. She has cried too much. "I want someone to love me!" I say again, bursting bright red and shaking. He turns me to face him, cupping my cheeks. I sob those soundless noises and shed those dry tears. "No one loves me." My voice wobbles, emotions forcing my feet backwards, desperate for space. your hands slip from my face.

you would have never allowed me this wide breadth before, but you are now. "No one has ever loved me, August. I pretended for so long. That maybe if my dad just saw me, just spoke to me, I mean. I can be funny, right? Can I be interesting? I'm—" "I love her." My eyes fly open. I slap my hand over my mouth, shaking my head against the tight grip, my mind and body and soul unable to process what he said. Unable to accept it. Not now. Not after all the lies and betrayal, a perpetual downpour of deceit. The words play in my mind. "I love her." Has anyone ever said that to me? Ever? 

"What did you say?" My reaction causes his jaw to pulse, causing torment to fill his dark, dangerous eyes. "I love you," you say again. "And I want to love you so fucking hard there is no room for the past. Or the pain. And I will, sweet girl. I won't stand  by and allow you not to like yourself when what I see is... spectacular."

 No. I crane my neck, searching his eyes for the truth lying below the surface. The truth. But there is too much emotion filling me right now. My heart strains to balloon for this broken soul, petrified to stone, unable to pump hard within a crushed body. It wants to. God, it wants to believe you. "You love her?" "I love you." Someone loves you, little one. I shake my head slowly. "No." My throat tightens with those dry contractions. "No. You can't." My head moves violently from side to side. No. You can't. Not you. Not the most impressive man in the world. "You're just saying it. You have seen the absolute worst of me! You have seen all the flaws. You can't. I don't believe it. I'm just your burden. Your pretty little burden. I'm—"

 "I didn't see any flaws, little one. I saw you tearing down the middle. I saw you being mauled by life. I can't rip those fuckers from your mind, but I will rip them from this world. All of them." your blue eyes blazing. "I did. I will be your thorns, sweet girl. Your future is with me. Do you know what that means?" I blink ahead because amidst the horror of the past few weeks, in the middle of all this trauma, you are saying everything I have ever dreamed of. 

They are the worst words to associate with this feeling, with this dissonance, self-hate, and the words that I most needed to hear. To believe them, though. I can’t. Can I? After all I have endured, believing would be like jumping from a tree the moment I was given wings. Not trying them out. Or growing into them. Just diving headfirst and hoping they fit. They hold my weight. The weight of my past. 

The whiplash of this decision wraps around me. I can’t grapple with what to feel or say or organize in my mind because it's too much. When I don’t answer, your deep, commanding voice rumbles, "It means you aren't an ordinary, sweet girl." I relent my internal debate, finding your eyes—piercing, fierce blue vortexes of sentiment. "You're powerful." I nod slowly. "It's in your blood, that power." My mouth opens as your words sail around me, my chest pumping harder to draw in air. "You're not my pretty little burden, baby."  lifting my chin. "You're my pretty little queen."

[esnygiu]

i had just come home after celebrating my grandpa’s birthday. ironic, right? i was getting ready for bed and a friend of mine texted me “giulia, i’m crying. you’ll see why”. as i said, i was kinda busy, so i told her “please tell me yourself because it might take a while before i log into all the social medias”. “liam died”.

at first, i couldn’t believe it. i wouldn’t believe it. the thing is, whoever has been on social media for a while now, knows that unfortunately people had made up news like that in the past, when it was untrue, so i spent an hour with bile in my throat waiting for someone to confirm that it was a fake news and that liam was alright. however, the only confirmation i ever got was of liam dying. i remember seeing a tweet from iheart radio, and thinking “that’s it”.

i felt numb. shocked, but numb. i felt my chest heavy, a strong nausea that wouldn’t let me sleep and i didn’t know how to feel. we all know what liam did, and i would never find it in myself to justify him for that, or to think that lately he was a good person, so i didn’t know how to grieve him. i was already grieving the person i thought he was, and was hit with having to cope with the loss of him at all. what i learnt throughout these past ~36 hours, is that i can grieve him and still hold him accountable for what he did. so i can mourn his death in peace and without feeling guilty. i can mourn one of the five boys that made me who i am today.

that’s the thing, one direction is not just a band to me and it never was. i have always struggled finding my place in the world: i wasn’t (and still am not) the best at making friends, i had (and still have) times where i despise myself in ways that should not be allowed to a brain, i spent a lot of time feeling lonely and weird compared to others. one direction gave me a family and a place i could belong to. since then, they have been my escape, my safe haven, full of happiness and sweet memories when i needed comfort. this is what hurts so bad: that happy place will now always be stained by grief. maybe in some time i’ll be able to listen to their songs and have a blast, just like i always did, but at some point i will be hit by the fact that liam’s gone.

it’s gonna be like it was yesterday: a cycle of crying, feeling numb, coming to the realization again, trying to dissociate and then it starting all over again. but the span of time between each event will get longer, as will the spaces between us and liam in time. he’ll feel further and further away from all of us, and i wasn’t ready.

dear liam, i will miss you dearly. it’ll keep haunting me that maybe you weren’t even aware, maybe this wasn’t what you wanted. or maybe it was, and i’ll always wish we could’ve done something more for you, even when we weren’t the ones who could do that. i’ll keep wishing the industry, the earth and everyone on it had been kinder to you when you needed it, because then maybe you wouldn’t have ended up like that. had you gotten help when you needed it all those years ago, we would still be able to enjoy your presence on earth. but that’s wishful thinking, something that is gonna rip my heart out of my chest one of these days.

bye liam, i hope you are less troubled wherever you are and that your soul finds peace. please say hi to my dad, as i’m sure he’ll be eager to thank you for being by my side when he couldn’t.

my thoughts, prayers and affection are going towards his parents, his sisters, the rest of his family, the boys and his other friends, kate, cheryl and especially bear, hoping our support and shared hurt will make grief easier.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

After the battle

Inspired by this fanart by @cirrdan

Pairing : Melkor x Mairon 

Themes : Soft / Fluff

Word count: 800 words

Summary : After his run in with Thorondor, Melkor finds himself stuck in bed, wounded in more ways than one.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries 

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That evenfall Melkor lay in his bed, unable to move.    

Pain of the acutest kind ripped through him whenever he tried. His muscles and sinews refused to heed him. His very flesh burned where he had been cut and torn. And his body, oh, how it ached and throbbed all over. The bed gave no comfort despite the soft sheets and softer pillows. Melkor ground his teeth and tried to keep still, hoping no one would just barge into his chambers and see him like this, all weak and pale and bound up in dressing of some kind.

But someone was already here, someone he didn't even register before. He smelled them before even seeing them, sighing and taking in the subtle scent of smoke and leather that carried in the air. Melkor swallowed and said, "Why do you hide in the shadows, precious?"   

Mairon slowly stepped into the light. Well, what passed for light here, at any rate. Melkor allowed a taper or two in their shared chambers and nothing beyond that. Mairon fought valiantly to hide his horror but failed miserably. Melkor looked ashen, and not due to his steely gray complexion. No, Melkor looked like his life's very essence had almost seeped out of him.   

"Do I look that comely?" Melkor found the strength to jest, his eyes lighting up in humour instead of anger.   

Mairon swallowed, unsure of what to say. Thuringwethil said it was bad, but she did not say how bad it truly was. Perhaps, he reasoned, she was trying to spare him.   

Finally, he settled on, "After a fashion, my lord," before forcing a bright smile, his gaze drifting over his lord's form. And his eyes stung. Oh, how they stung. Melkor had been covered in slashes and bruises. The great eagle Thorondor spared no inch in his effort to save Fingolfin's fana from defilement, and now Melkor was here, drowning in agony.   

Melkor, seeing gold eyes glistening with unshed tears, managed a weak smile for his soul's other half before closing his own and whimpering. Pain swirled through him in wave after wave, as if unceasing. When it finally passed, he breathed easier and opened his eyes. The smell of smoke and leather still hung in the air, and he found it soothing. "Please, precious," he whispered hoarsely. "Come sit by me."   

Thick carpets muffled the sound of heavy boots as Mairon came over and made himself comfortable by Melkor's side. He slipped his hands into a pair bigger and colder than his own and dipped his head, running his lips over each finger. Melkor closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, the first time since he opened his eyes.

"I should have listened to you," he huffed with ragged breaths. "You told me to let Fingolfin be and not accept his challenge, but I let my own misplaced pride override all else." Melkor grimaced. The others saw him get struck, saw him reel and fall. "And now all have borne witness to my weaknesses."   

"None of them will speak a word of it."  If they know what is good for them, that is, Mairon thought fiercely.   

Melkor closed his eyes as another jolt of pain washed over him. "And what of you, precious? Do you think less of me for my failure?"   

Mairon would never do it; he could never do it. Melkor meant too much for him to even entertain such a notion. "No my lord, I do not." He reached over to the bedside counter and picked up a goblet of water when Melkor asked for something to drink. "I never could. Besides," he said, carefully lifting Melkor's head so he could drink. "Thorondor is a most formidable foe."   

"And you left your mark on the great eagle," Mairon continued. "Thorondor will carry the mark of Grond for the rest of his days. And Fingolfin is dead. He will plague us no more."   

A foe that came in out of nowhere. Hid himself craftily under the cover of shadows and darkeness, Mairon was told upon his return from other battles. No one knew until the great eagle's talons were digging into Melkor's armour and tearing it apart.  

As he sipped, Melkor did not know what hurt more- his wounds or being brought low due to his own foolishness and pride. In the end, he conceded that his wounded pride would take longer to heal.   

"Small consolation indeed," Melkor grumbled. "But I will accept them all the same." 

Mairon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Melkor will be pouting and grumbling about this for many moons. "And what do you desire now, my lord?"

Melkor swallowed and reached up, ignoring the pain as his fingers curled around Mairon's hair. He had let it down today, a rare thing with him. "Lay with me precious," he breathed in relief when the pain ebbed to a bearable throb. "Just lay down next to me."   

Mairon put the goblet away and lay down next to him, making himself comfortable without jostling Melkor too much. "Are you comfortable, my lord?"   

 "I am, now that you are near." Melkor somehow moved his arm so Mairon could nestle in closer. When Mairon turned to his side and carefully laid an arm over his chest, Melkor sighed contentedly. "Much more comfortable."

Tags: @fictionfordays | @asianbutnotjapanese​ | @edensrose​

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper (Part 9)

Jaskier x gn!reader

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve

Real men change their plotlines in the middle of writing chapters and then struggle to figure out how tf it's all gonna work out. I'm real men

Warnings: swearing, light angst, "there's only one bed" trope kinda, romantic tension?? Idk im aroace 💀, possibly ooc Jaskier

Word Count: 2286

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"What do you do during the winter?"

Jaskier's fingers toyed with the strings of his lute, on the edge of the next notes of his song. It seemed he was struck by the sudden question, ripped from the trance he fell into any time he played his lute, all other functions shutting down as he processed the question.

"In Oxenfurt, I mean," you clarified. Across from him, you busied yourself with repairing tears in your armor. Although you had no official contracts, you still found plenty of troublesome monsters along the path. "Do you have a house there, or something?"

The bard shook his head at the mere idea of a house in the busy city. "Not as such, no." Soft notes played in the air as he just barely strummed his beloved instrument. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he thought about Oxenfurt - of the cobbled roads and brick buildings. Bards around every corner; barkers at stalls trying to entice the folk into buying their wares. "The university there usually asks me to teach. I lecture for the newest generation of artists, and they allow me a dorm to stay in until the semester is over."

"Professor Jaskier?"

He chuckles. "No, Professor Pankratz."

"Pankratz?"

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove," he introduced himself. His hand left his lute in favor of producing a mock bow, resting on his chest as he bent down. "At your service."

Your lips quirked up at the playful action. "How does a Viscount become a traveling bard?"

He waved the question away, playing a few notes. "It's a long story and really not worth getting into."

"Must be bad if you of all people don't want to tell it," you teased. He simply tilted his head from one side to the other, agreeing with the statement with a half-formed grimace.

Changing the subject, Jaskier's blue eyes focused in on you. "What about you? What do you do in the winter?" As if realizing something, his brow furrowed with confusion. "You don't have a Keep to go back to..."

You shook your head, bittersweet emotions taking over your features. "I find it much easier to keep working during the season," you admitted. "Some monsters enjoy the cold weather. While other Witchers rest, I have ample opportunity to earn some more coin."

"Don't you get tired, though?" Your hands paused their stitching, thread half-pulled through the leather as you stared at him in befuddlement. "All the others have a season to heal, but you keep going all year round. When do you rest?"

Those blue eyes bored into your soul, searching for an answer. Why didn't you rest?

It was easy to say because you had nowhere to go. Witchers were protective of their Keeps. It would be unlikely for a Wolf to let a Viper within their walls, due to the natural distrust that stemmed from the separation of schools to begin with. Different ideals, different teachings; the conflicting views of a Witcher that killed monsters and humans within the home of Witchers who only hunted monsters would only make for a poor winter.

Or perhaps you didn't rest because it was easy to forget what going against monsters was like when you trained against wooden dummies. Staying active during the winter kept you trained and ready for the warmer months. The practice on icy, soft terrain helped to prepare you for thawed ground and solid dirt.

And the cain! During the warmer months, what few remaining Witchers left were competing for contracts, fighting to get the better ones first. But once the cold seasons came around, they all went away, leaving plenty of contracts unattended to. It was all too easy to bounce from town to town, killing monsters, humans, and non-humans, and filling your purse with Crowns along the way.

But, deep down, you knew the real reason. It was true, you had no home. Crossing the border to Nilfgaard just to go to a destroyed school was too risky, and too foolish. And every moment you were not breaking your back, laboring to survive, that thought was all too loud in your mind. You could picture the Wolves in their keep, around hot fires, discussing their best contracts - and their worst. The brotherly camaraderie as they trained against one another and broke bread together. And it tore you apart.

You recalled when you had a home. When you had siblings to train with and tease like a family. When you huddled around fires and ate hot stews, and chucked stale bread at the heads of the others when they made a terrible joke. And every time, you remembered they were dead.

You produced a weak grin, something to ease the concern in Jaskier’s brow. “At times like this,” you said. “Fixing armor, brewing potions…” You looked into the fire. Flickers of memories were held in the burning embers, reflected in your animalistic eyes. When you looked back at the bard, he could still see the distant memories held in your irises. “This is all the rest I need, honest.”

-

The rain finally caught up to you on the second day of your journey. It would have been fine, if the drops were not as large and heavy as they were. Sheets of precipitation drenched you and your faithful bard in seconds. The water and chilly air made for a dastardly combo, resulting in frozen fingers, chattering teeth, and more things for Jaskier to complain about.

Already, after the struggle that was packing up camp, you had heard him complain about water in his boots, wet socks, how hard it was to keep his lute dry, and a further multitude of endless things that did not seem to be going well for the bard. The best antidote for an overly aggravated bard, however, was quite simple, all things considered. All one needed to do was shift the conversation so he would talk about himself.

“So,” you interrupted another complaint, nearly shouting over the endless barrage of rain, “how did you get the name ‘Jaskier?’”

“Ah!” His steps squelched in the muddy dirt road as he caught up to walk right alongside you, albeit on the opposite side of Bayard. He peered at you from under a woolen hood that nearly hid his bright eyes. You could just make out wet strands of brown hair matted to his forehead. “An excellent question! As it so happens, Jaskier means ‘buttercup!’ Like the flower. Little yellow- you know.”

You nodded.

“I figured, most bards have stage names they go by. If I was going to become a traveling troubadour,” he made a wide gesture, as if to represent his travels all over the Continent, “it only made sense to change my name.”

“But why buttercup?”

“Hm?”

“You’re such a romantic, why not something to do with roses or, I don’t know, something that’s not poisonous?”

He scoffed, catching your eye overtop Bayard’s bowed head to ensure you were witness to his incredulous look. “A rose? As a symbol of romance it’s far overplayed.”

Of course, likening Jaskier to a mere rose would ruffle his feathers. “Okay, fine then. A dandelion.”

If anything, that only set him off further.

“A dandelion?!”

“Yes! Buttercups are hard to find; they only grow in forests in the perfect conditions. You’re a bard - you thrive everywhere! Like a weed.”

His nose scrunched up in a scowl, but it softened as the conversation tapered off. “You may have a point.”

“That is to say…” Jaskier met your eyes again, blue eyes flickering to look at the grin teasing your lips. “I quite like ‘Jaskier.’” You did not see the way his cheeks reddened through the downpour.

-

The rain washed out the forest floor. Trying to start a fire was a futile fight against nature. In an effort to prevent Jaskier getting sick, you built two small shelters out of any woolen fabric you could find. One covered Bayard, who, despite the situation, seemed understanding. He bumped his nose into you several times when you were covering him in blankets and checking his hooves.

The other formed a small tent, just large enough for one person to fit inside comfortably. Despite its size, both you and Jaskier sat underneath the mouth, pressed as close together as possible to preserve what little warmth you had. For the first time in several years, you despised your Witcherness. Your slow heart rate kept your body just warm enough to survive, so you lacked any excess warmth to share. To combat this, you conjured a small Igni flame in your palm. The bard’s cold hands didn’t hesitate to hover over the fire and soak up every ounce of heat it offered.

After a short while, however, the spell drained you of too much energy and the flame flickered and died. You were plunged into darkness once more.

“Sorry.” Your voice bordered on a whisper. Had he not been right next to you, Jaskier was sure he wouldn’t have heard you speaking at all. “I can’t hold signs for very long.”

Torn from your reliance on vision, your other senses were heightened. If you strained to listen over the rain, you could hear two heartbeats surrounding you. One was beating slower, but you could hear the loud slosh of blood circulating through it. That was Bayard’s. The other beat faster, even skipping a beat as a loud boom of thunder cracked the air.

Clothes rustled beside you. Hands, warmer than yours though not by much, found yours in the dark. Nimble, calloused fingers tangled with yours, holding tight, and offering what warmth they could.

“You’re freezing.” The hands rubbed against yours. Friction left brief glimpses of heat behind.

You hummed noncommittally. “Slower heart rate, colder body. I don’t need to be as warm as you to survive.”

“It can’t be comfortable.”

“Comfortable?”

He pulled your hands over to his side, tucking them with his own to rest inside his doublet, just over the thin shirt underneath. You could feel the waves of heat radiating from his body, being sucked up by the weather and lost to the cold.

“What’s comfort got to do with it?” you ask again.

He sighed, a bit dramatically. “Nothing, nothing. Except I’m freezing my balls off and you’re about as warm as a block of ice.”

Despite the teasing in his tone, his words struck a sour cord in you. You pulled your hands from his, away from his warm chest, and cradled them into your own. “I’m sorry,” you spat. “I can only hold a sign for so long before it starts to affect me. It’s not my damn fault the weather is shit, but I’ve done a hell-of-a-lot more than gripe about the rain.”

Water hammered against the makeshift tent. It slapped against the saturated ground, turning it all into a malleable clay that oozed and formed puddles. No other life could be heard through all the noise. The crickets were silent. No birds sang. It was just you and Jaskier and Bayard, stuck out in the cold, wet damp of the world.

“I know,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.”

You tried peering at him from the corner of your eye, but it was so dark. Without a Cat potion, trying to make out any defining features was near impossible. The most you could see was his silhouette. An ill-defined blob that stared out across the “camp” and tugged his thin blanket closer.

“Me too.” You sighed. With no way to see the moon, it was difficult to make out the time, but you could tell it was late. Your muscles ached. The whole world felt heavier. “You should get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll keep watch.”

You could feel his eyes on you, searching in the dark for something. You wished you could see his eyes.

“I’ll sleep if you sleep.”

“And if we get attacked in the middle of the night?”

He scoffed. “In this weather? Besides, what do we really have worth killing us for?” Getting on his knees, he shifted further into the tent. He laid down and repositioned himself until his back was against one of the woolen walls. “There should be room for both of us if we squeeze in.”

You frowned back into the darkness. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, positive!” You heard him patting the ground next to him. The ground beneath the bedrolls he laid on was soft from the mud. “C’mon, I can keep you warm.”

After a moment of contemplation (no other excuses found a way into your mind to avoid the situation), you crawled into the tent. It was tight. Laying on your sides, you were nearly chest to chest. You could feel every breath he took landing in soft puffs against your face, and the beating of his heart near yours.

Jaskier, however, was not content with the small gap between you. In one motion, he was pressed right up against you and his blanket was draped over you. You could smell the faint traces of sandalwood and vanilla that lingered on his skin.

An arm wrapped around you. You shivered at the contact, but he just drew you in closer.

“There,” he breathed. “Nice and cozy.”

It was too dark to see, but you knew, mere inches away, his face was directly in front of you. You could imagine the bubbly look on his face at convincing you to squeeze into the tent with him. The smug teasing look that hinted about his prior romantic experiences.

“Goodnight, Viper.”

You swallowed the lump formed in your throat and the tense, uncomfortable thoughts that came with your position, so close to the bard.

“Goodnight… Dandelion.”

---

Tag List:

@kmuir1

@writeawaythepain

@sleepyqueerenergy

@lex-caspartine

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ cop!miguel 𝓍 teacher!reader (part 2) ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛⠀ previous⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next ⠀❜

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who hasn’t stop thinking about you. since the moment he laid eyes on you at the school, you never once left his mind.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who daydreams about you when he wakes up. those gorgeous eyes, a smile that makes his heart flutter, soft angelic voice. god he has got it bad, and he only just met you.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who almost forgets to wake up gabriella for school. he rips off the bed sheets off his body and jumps out of bed to rush over to her room. a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he finds his little girl all dressed up. smart, responsible girl.

“you slept in, papá.” gabriella giggles at the sight of her half-asleep father.

miguel softly chuckles, nodding. “i did.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who makes huevos con jamon for breakfast, gabriella’s favorite. while she eats, he packs her lunch in her cute mermaid lunch container. dino nuggets, cucumbers, carrots and an empanada as a dessert. a caprisun as well besides her water.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who drops of gabriella at school but sticks around a bit just to see you again. standing off to the side, watching his daughter run off to the playground to play with friends. it’s the morning routine when kids play for a bit before school starts. parents are allowed to stay until the bell rings.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel whose eyes dilate and heart flutters when you walk by with another teacher. there you are, the pretty teacher that he hasn’t stop thinking about since he met you. the woman who has infiltrated his mind. dreamt of you every night.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel whose heart skips a beat when you notice him and wave at him from afar. he quickly waves back, a little too excited.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who suddenly feels nervous when you start walking towards him. a wave of self-conscious hits him. does he look good? is his hair alright? does he smell good? god he hasn’t felt like this in years, since damn high school.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who is a nervous reck as you stand in front of him, all in your glory. heart leaping out of his chest. warmth rising in his cheeks.

“nice to see you again, officer o’hara.” you softly smile, arms folded over your chest.

“igualmente, señorita.” he gulps, plastering a small smile in return. “it’s always nice to you.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel that wants to facepalm himself when he realized what he said. god how stupid he sounds, but he’s being truthful. its always nice to see you, even if it’s the second time he’s seen you. it just happened to slip through his mouth.

those thoughts pause at the most heavenly sound ever, your laughter. a sound that blesses his soul. miguel quickly looks back at you and sees that gorgeous smile he’s been dreaming about.

“well, it’s always nice to you too, officer o’hara.” you say sweetly, that same soft smile on your face.

“miguel.” he said gently. “miguel is perfectly fine.”

“i like being polite, señor.” you recite his words from your first meeting. a little smirk on your lips.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who continues to be mesmerized by you. reciting his own words right back at him. a surprise after a surprise.

“how was your weekend?” he asks, very interested in what you did this past weekend.

“bien. i spent some time with my family, had a little get together. did some reading and grading.”

he nods, acknowledging. “sounds like a nice, peaceful weekend.”

you nod, softly smiling. “it was. and yours?”

“bien tambien. i took gabriella to an aquarium. she loved it. she loved the clownfish because they remind her of finding nemo.” miguel smiles at the memory.

“awww que chula. i think of nemo too, it’s one of my favorites. i was actually thinking of playing nemo for the ‘end of the school year’ party.”

his eyes perk up. “really?”

“sí!” you nod happily. “that or shrek.”

while you are laughing, miguel simply gazed at you with adoration. relishing the heavenly sound of your laughter once again. he feels honored to hear it once again, blessing his ears again. it immediately improved his mood this morning, not that he was in a bad mood, just tired but you made him feel better.

“shrek is a classic.” he grins.

“mhm. gotta show them the classics.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel that has a little frown and pout on his face when the school bell rings. meaning morning recess is over and it’s time to line up to head to class. that also means he has to leave, unable to continue his conversation with you.

“time for class. it was nice seeing you again, officer o’hara. have a nice day at work.” you offer a smile.

he mirrors your smile, concealing the slight disappointment bundling up inside him. “it was nice seeing you too, señorita, y gracias.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who watches you wait for your students to line up. gabriella is first in line. the sight makes him smile. she noticed him and waves at him with a big smile. he waves at her then glances at you.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel whose heart swoons when you both smile at each other as a final goodbye before you walk away with your class to your classroom.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who exits the school and walks back to his car. the conversation with you replays in his mind, making him grin instinctively.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who arrived at the station. dressed in his uniform, a vest with “NYPD” on the front with a radio attached on his shoulder, his gold badge clipped to his belt along with his holster.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who isn’t aware that grin is still plastered on his face as he ventures through the station. that turn many heads, astonished.

“what’s got ya in a good mood, partner?”

miguel snaps out of trance, the grin vanished as he looks and sees his closest colleague. patrick, usually referred as ‘cowboy’ due to his thick western accent.

“don’t.” miguel grumbles, walking past him.

“you ain’t a good liar, o’hara. who’s the lady?” patrick follows him, hands gripped on his belt like a true cowboy. a little smirk plastered on his face.

“there’s no lady, patrick.” miguel denies.

“clearly there is if it got you smiling like that.”

a frustrating sigh escapes his lips. god he’s never gonna let it go, not for a long shot.

“cállete and let’s do our damn patrol.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who does his usual patrol around the city alongside patrick. luckily no crimes committed or sticky situations.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who still can’t stop thinking about you and your conversation this morning. he wonders what you’re trenching at this moment. are you reading that one book in class gabriella has been talking about? doing math problems on the white board? making some arts and crafts stuff?

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel whose patrol finished before gabriella is off from school. another chance to pick her up and to see you again.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel that is waiting in front of school along with other parents. his gear and vest are left on the car, not wanting to scare people with his pistol.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who smiles when his daughter runs to him, visibly excited to get picked by her father once again.

“papí!” gabriella squeals, jumping into her dad’s arms. “you picked me up again!”

“sí, princesa. i got off early today.” he smiles.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who allows his daughter to play with friends a bit, carrying her backpack on his shoulder. also, a chance to speak with you again.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who turns and looks for you to find you with a student who seems a bit sad. a concern frown settles on his face as you comfort the child while looking around as if searching for someone, a parent possibly.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who grows more concerned and walks over to investigate.

“is there something wrong?” he asks gently.

“oh, hi miguel.” you flash a brief smile. “this student’s mother hasn’t arrived yet to pick her up.” you glance down at the little girl beside you. “her mother normally picks her up on time but supposedly not this time. but i’m sure she’ll come, just a little late.” you gently pat her shoulder reassuringly.

miguel tries bypassing how you referred to him with his name, how heavenly it sounds from your lips, and focuses on the concerned student.

“yeah, i think she’s just a little late.” miguel crouched so he’s eye level with the little girl. “i’m sure your mom had something to do but she’ll be here soon.”

the little girl nods. “yeah, i’m just a little worried.”

both of yours and miguel’s expressions soften.

“it’s okay to be worried but i promise your mom will show up very soon.” he said softly.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who feels relieved when the said mother arrives and picks up her daughter, endlessly apologizing for her late arrival. apparently her car wasn’t starting for a few minutes but then it did.

“everything went okay.” you sigh, relieved.

he turns back to you. “sí, everyone is okay.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who feels that sudden burst of anxiousness and bashfulness when it’s only you and him once again, most parents gone.

“gabi was telling the entire class about her visit to the aquarium.” much to his surprise, you started the conversation, which miguel is pleased about.

“oh really?” he grins.

“yes, talking about all types of marine creatures she saw. she said she loved the moon jellyfish and they’re her favorite. the different types of fish and whales. how excited she was when she saw nemo and dory.” you softly chuckle.

that grin grow wilder into a smile. memories of the aquarium visit replays in his mind. how happy and excited his little girl was, mesmerized by all the marine creatures. it was a good day.

“she did love it. i’m glad i was able to get the day off and take her.” he folds his arms.

you mirror his actions. “and i’m glad you’re able to pick her up again.” a soft smile on your lips.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel whose heart flutters once again.

“i’m glad too. my patrol ended early so i was able to pick her up again.”

“gabi was very excited to see you again. i saw her running to you. she adores you very much.” you say sweetly but also sincerely.

that makes him smile. “i adore her too. ella es mi mundo.” he glances at his daughter who is playing with her friends in the small grass field.

now you’re the one to feel your heart flutter. how sweetly he talks of his daughter.

“you’re hers too.” that makes him look back you with surprise. “even though we’ve only just met and hardly know one another, you’re a great dad, miguel.”

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who doesn’t believe his heart could take more of your kindness. swoon over the moon when you say his name for the second time today. it makes his knees feel like jello.

“gracias… i tried to be. to give her the best life i can give her.” he said shyly, averting your for a moment.

“you are.”

he shoots up and meets your gaze.

“by how hard you’re working for your daughter, you are a good father.” you said sincerely.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who simply gazes at you, captivated by your kind sincere words, speechless. his heart on the verge of exploding by the endless amounts of kindness you’ve given him. his infatuation with you grows stronger.

by his lack of words, you suddenly feel concern that you might’ve overstep. “w-well, i’m must be getting back. got some assignments to plan.” you awkwardly said with a smile before turning around. cheeks a little flushed from embarrassment.

sudden panic settles in his stomach. “wait.” reaching out with a hand but never touching you.

turning around, you anxiously meet his gaze.

“gracias, for what you said.” miguel takes a step closer, still leaves some space in between you two. “i really appreciate it, it means a lot.”

concern and embarrassment fade away, relief washing over your body. that soft smile returns. “of course, miguel.” with that, you walk away.

there it is again, you said his name for the third time.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who watches you return to the school. part of him feels a bit disappointed because he wishes to continue talking to you but he knows you have responsibilities to do. plus, he needs take gabi home since she has some homework to do.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who is also disappointed with himself for not asking if you’ll be interested in a coffee or something. but perhaps it’s too soon since you two recently met. maybe next time.

⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ cop!miguel who is determined to pick up gabriella more often to get to know you more.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @nightingale1011 ( no date yet, sorry! need slow burn first but it’ll happen in the next chapter for sure! )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[prelovednikaidou]

corrupt; draken, ken ryuguji [01]

Summary:

In which you met the man of your past, but he didn't come back to remind you of the bitter break-up. Draken had one thing in mind and it was to never let you leave his side ever again. Distance made the heart grow fonder but he'd rather let you spend the rest of your life hating him if it meant you'd never leave his sight.

"I don't wish you well when you ain't with me, I want you crying."

Warning:

mention of suicide, oral receiving (reader),

a/n: taglist are open up to 10 users! comment '☁️'

Word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

[01: jealousy]

Draken wanted to take you away.

The curves of your spine, flowing down to the slope of your well-rounded bottom flesh, he watched the symmetrical dimple right above your butt - mocking him that those precious intimate spots were no longer his possession to own.

It wasn't only him who shared the same thought; everyone in this crowded room had their eyes glued on you. As if you were holding those guests captive, you felt immense pressure on your feet and thighs, quivered before you wrapped your leg around the shining pole.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Those blinding lights showered your sweating figure in all fairness, the sound of Abel's voice had long dimmed down, it meant that your show was done. It was silent in a minute,

lifting your face - your lips curled into a hunting smile and the room soared with cheers, crumpled money tossed across the stage, but your sense of content was suppressed by the overwhelming tension.

A pair of black pupils were starring at you - pinning you to where you stood. He was among the crowd, all in his glory without care but you. You felt something burst inside your chest, unable to tear your focus from him.

This longing for him is toxic.

Flashes of memories where those sober eyes bore into yours when he pumped his fat cock into your tight cunt until his thick cum over spilled, the same eyes that once shone with so much love but turned cold.

"Dollface!"

A shout from backstage startled you from your daze, another coworker came up and escorted you down, assisting you to take off the painful high heels.

"What's with you?" She threw a curious stare your way.

You still couldn't wrap your mind. He was there. Flesh and soul, presented in front of you. It was a brief eye contact but it was enough. Enough to tell you that he was coming back for you.

It had been years since the two of you chose to split up, making your paths without each other's companion.

"I, I've got to go. I forgot that I locked the windows, my cat's probably waiting for me. He's been out for 3 days so he's starving I think. Y'all can continue without me,"

You stood but your knees turned weak at the sudden arrival of him, standing by the door. A few steps taken back, you lost all rationality to stay calm because your heart thumped loudly.

Standing tall on his 6' ft, athletic and young Draken was nowhere to be seen but replaced - with a mature adult man that induced everything he carried into lust.

The robust body looked incredibly fit, lean, and you could see the strong outlines of his defined chest and abdominal muscles from the black shirt. If it was years ago, those leather jackets wouldn't suit him - he'd look like those up-start wannabe gangsters.

But it was different now. It clung to his broad shoulders perfectly, he wasn't as cheap as those local pranksters. The dark jeans also did little job in hiding his long legs. He was indeed a member of a gang; eerie and cruel - but he had never look this good that you want to fuck.

Draken's presence was enough to brush away every man in the room that you belonged to him. Your little admirers couldn't even look at him in the eyes, let alone make up a fight.

They left with a strong sense of defeat; no wonder you never once accept any confessions, turned out you have such a man waiting.

"Why is he here? This area is off-limits. Only staff is allowed. Naoki, guide him out." You forced yourself to mutter those words, uncaring to look at him with your back facing him.

Naoki sighed, this man literally slipped $750 under the table just to meet you. Those incompetent flies who claimed to love you didn't even spare this much effort. She only signaled him to step in before she whispered to you,

"Remember the guy I told you? The one that booked a whole session for your private room? He's that guy. It's just that he arrived a little early than the arranged meeting but it'll be great if you can build a connection with him."

You glared back, "Then send him back. We still have a week before that, right? I'm tired. I can't keep up with this," You pushed off her hand from your shoulder, began to take off your wig. His eyes were still the same; always undressing you naked.

Naoki could only grit her teeth, the money already landed in her pocket. What if he asked it back? She can't let such a great deal slip so she greeted him,

"She's a bit tired from the recent show. How about we push this to tomorrow? She's got free time on her hand to rest too." At least, this would do, right?

"If I have so much time on my hands, I wouldn't have come a week early. So you guess it yourself." His voice has changed too. It was an octave lower, you immediately rubbed your thighs together before you waved a hand.

"Haaa... leave us, Naoki. But I need you to go to my house. I wasn't joking about what I said earlier."

Naoki hurriedly nodded, clutching to her pocket before her eyes warily darted from Draken to you. Is this a couple feud? She noted in her head that she'd help this guy soon in the future - who doesn't want easy money?

"Okay, I will. Sir...? Err.. hope you have a pleasant chat with Dollface. I will excuse myself then ." The hindrance in Draken's eyes finally left the room, the door closed in a thump and the subtle tension thickened.

He didn't say anything, only leaned his body by the door as he watched you wiped off your makeup. This was his morning view back when you were still wet behind ears about pole dancing. You'd come back at the crack of drawn and he'd already been out to his workshop.

"Dollface."

Stubborn like a little cat, your doe eyes didn't look up from your make-up bag and he could see through your act to be so busy. He loved how feisty you've become after years. It eased his heart that you could chase off those little shit.

"It suits you, [Y/N]. Face so pretty like a doll. Make one's heart itch to keep around. But I wonder why the name sounds so familiar."

"State your business. I'm heading home straight after this so don't expect a lap dance or something."

"Then that's the plan. I'll drive you home, eh?"

That damn 'eh'. He picked up your habit too well that the time he spent with you shaped him into copying your habit. It sounded cute but your heart still couldn't forgive him. Let him suffer a little.

"Don't need to. My boyfriend is great at doing his job. So do me a favor and let me rest quickly, how about that?"

Now, you were looking at him through the mirror. It was just too hard for you to muster yourself to face him directly. Draken didn't seem shaken. He stood straightly, you clenched your thighs tighter.

"Have I ever been quick in everything when I'm with you, [Y/N]?" His towering figure gawked over your smaller frame - casting his shadow over you as his sharp facial features caught your attention.

"Can't remember. Maybe? Because I said it just now almost like a reflex." You replied, not backing down but instead, squaring up to him that your ample breasts brushed against his torso.

His cologne didn't smell like the tacky, cheap body spray he used to own. This one smelled so expensive, alienated your memory of his familiar scent.

"Now you're getting older, your memory is getting rusty, dollface. Should I put on a play and see if you can call anything in mind?" You felt your breath became heavier but he didn't let you lose your focus yet.

Your chin was tugged upwards, the shadow of his cap cast upon his face and you remembered now; it was his eyes. Because he wasn't vocal about his feelings, you could understand everything from his eyes.

"You've grown softer, Draken. I almost threw up listening to you talk like this. What, are you changing jobs now? Don't tell me you went from a gangster to a con artist."

No, you were lying to yourself. Draken didn't change but improved. Change can be something bad but he never did anything that would bring him down. He just got better.

And it was true when the velvety touch on your beating pulse suddenly moved to your lips before he squished your cheeks in his hand.

"Fucking hot as hell but so damn annoying." He laughed, the light from his eyes never return, only replaced by a wicked glint.

He wanted to take you to his place, fuck you in his bed until you couldn't walk properly so he'd have more reasons to keep you at his place. He wanted to swallow you whole and he barely even started but why was it so damn hard to have you?

"Don't dare to think of anything nasty. You might not care about commitment in a relationship, but I do. So take your hands off me, Draken."

"Kenie. It's Kenie for you."

Your lips were so plump and wet, his other arm wrapped around your waist - hoisting you up to his body before he leaned by the dresser.

You shrieked when his scalding hot palm touched your naked back and as he untied the strings of your bra, he smiled at your face as he said,

"Do you think I'm going to believe that, dollface? Do you really think I don't know that this pussy hasn't been fucked well for months? I have eyes across this ward. You don't get to fool me."

Heat rose to your face, your small hands pushed on his shoulders, "You're still up in my business? Sounds like someone can't fucking move on."

He nodded, ripping off your lacey bralette and his big hands began to palm your heavy breast - carelessly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. You fought the urge to moan, you hold onto his shoulder for dear strength.

"You're right. I can't move on." Your breath hitched, he nuzzled his face to the column of your neck, inhaling so deep, and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He missed you so much. So much that if you ran away again, he'd just kill himself.

"I fucked my fist thinking of you. I got this hard just by thinking of you. I'm not ashamed of it."

"That's your problem, Draken. I'm not you. I'm living my best life right now, and sorry that I can still cum just with my fingers."

"That's my girl," He pushed you until your back met the concrete wall, your eyes widened when he took off his cap and put it on you before he dropped to his knees.

"I am aware of your appetite, [Y/N]. You won't be happy with such a small meal. You always keep coming back to have your tight pussy stuffed. Even when we were living together, you couldn't stop begging my dick every night."

"What the hell are you talking about-" You pushed his forehead away from your private part, one hand covering your pussy but he gripped the side of your hips - bringing you straight to his mouth.

"I don't care if you use me as your favorite Cherry Twins. But don't deny that I made you cummed the hardest when I was in your life, dollface."

Your eyes became misty, his words just flew through your head - empty when his mouth latched on your clothed crotch, lapping on the small fabric that the nudge of his tongue probed on your budding clit.

Cherry Twins were the name he gave to your vibrators. Since he was always out when you were at home, he'd make you use them to your greedy cunt - even made a video call so he could jerk off in the public restroom.

You were wild, but he taught you to live even wilder.

Next page: chapter [02] →

a/n : next chapter is full smut bcs thats the only thing my brain's capable of. Taglist are open up to 10 users! Comment '☁️’.

Taglist: @hanmascult @q-the-rockaholic @hikkarins