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celtic-crossbow · 2 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided.

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point.

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy.

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings.

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since.

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months.

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped.

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling.

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely.

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent.

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh.

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little.

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach.

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there.

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion.

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress.

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was.

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking.

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched.

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder.

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch.

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one.

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you.

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.”

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.”

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction.

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly.

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog.

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?”

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand.

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered.

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress.

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright.

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl.

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around.

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders.

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back.

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle.

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips.

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave.

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance.

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration.

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you.

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl.

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true.

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly.

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime.

“Herd?” You whispered.

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed.

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol.

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer.

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair.

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand.

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed.

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do.

You were so close to being a mother.

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards.

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath.

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees.

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present.

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure.

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort?

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress.

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers.

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating.

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!”

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N.

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly.

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world.

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it.

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front.

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own.

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too.

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there.

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!”

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.”

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior.

“The head is out!”

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled.

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner.

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head.

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening.

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving.

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head.

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.”

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle.

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one.

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces.

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved.

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting.

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。AKADEMIYA GOSSIP — ALHAITHAM.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 alhaitham’s attire elicits a response you’re not all too happy with through the akademiya

☽ contents ⋮ gn! reader, jealous! reader, mentions of girls taking an interest in alhaitham but reader is unspecified, you sit on his lap, sfw + fluff

☽ notes ⋮ you had jealous haitham. now have jealous you

personally, you think alhaitham needs to get rid of that awful skin tight top of his. it’s an outrage—it’s unfair, really, always serving as a distraction for you with his sculpted abs and defined pecs taunting you at the most improper of times.

but that’s not even the worst part—recently, there’s something much more concerning than the distraction of his (very well-maintained) physique.

“you know, i think they should consider giving you a work uniform for this position,” you mumble, and there’s a slight pout on your lips that makes alhaitham pause as you gesture at his attire, “this isn’t very appropriate for a high position such as grand sage.”

he raises a brow, putting his pen down.

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “and are my fashion choices not up to your standards?”

“that’s not the problem,” you mumble, “your terrible eye for clothing is your problem, not mine.”

“well, that’s wonderful to hear. i wouldn’t want to inconvenience you with my lacking aesthetic,” he says sarcastically—because everything is always a quick witted reply with him, and you send a glare his way through a huff.

“the problem here is the way your clothes fit.”

this time, there’s a very visible and very deep pout on your face—if alhaitham wasn’t as good with self control as he is, he might even have marched across the room and kissed it off by now. instead, he only gives you a quizzical look before he turns back to his…endless pile of papers.

“and what do you mean by that?”

the question alone is all the encouragement you need to dramatically fall back on the couch you’re seated at, arm falling to cover your face as you sigh with a little more emphasis than you really need. it’s so like you—so typical to bring out the theatrics, and it’s so like him to roll his eyes and mumble about how you’re over exaggerating.

and yet, somehow, it works. everything about you and alhaitham works—even as you glare his way while he rolls his eyes, even as you whine about everything while he always has that same dry tone, even as you jump to conclusions while he thinks through everything meticulously. somehow, it always works—which is why you refuse to let those filthy, home wrecking girls from the akademiya come anywhere near your (slightly irritating, but very attractive) boyfriend.

“today i overheard two girls talking about your abs. two! only archons know how many other people have been talking about them—”

he clears his throat, cutting you off and silently hoping you don’t notice the slight blush on his cheeks as he mumbles, “well, there’s not much you and i can do if other people—”

“and just imagine if they’ve stared at your tits! this is horrible—”

“i don’t have tits,” he hisses, “why must you always insist on calling them that—”

“oh no,” you croak woefully, cutting him off as you ignore him, “they can’t have your tits. you have to stop wearing that tight shirt, our relationship depends on it,” you insist.

“you can’t be serious—”

“in fact, i think you should just wear the akademiya robes. they won’t be able to stare at much of anything if you wear those.”

“and if they stare at my face?” he raises a brow, lips quirked slightly in amusement even has the lingering flush of pink still grazes his skin.

and he looks beautiful like that—soft rays of sun kissing the silver strands of hair so they look golden, flowing over his skin and letting shadows nestle into the sharp slopes of his cheekbones. you can’t see from where you are, but you know there are flakes of gold lit up in those teal eyes of his—the same eyes you glare into when you’re mad, the ones you meet first thing in the morning, the ones you can’t look away from as you whisper i love you like a secret you’ve held onto in this life and the last.

you crinkle your nose, clearly distressed at the idea of people fawning over his features, and he can’t help but smile gently at the sentiment.

“you’re right,” you nod, “you face is also very attractive. maybe you could—”

“i think you’re looking too deeply into this,” he says, making your face twist into a scowl.

“this is serious,” you hiss, and the way he blinks at you like you’re crazy earns him a harsh glare, “have you not listened to people speaking of you? grand sage alhaitham looks soooo handsome today,” you mock in a high pitched voice, “i think his muscles look larger than yesterday.”

“i don’t concern myself with akademiya gossip,” he shrugs, “as long as it causes no trouble for me—”

“well this time it will cause trouble for you,” you narrow your eyes, “acting grand sage or not, you aren’t immune to sleeping on our lovely living room couch.”

and you’re stubborn like this sometimes, irrational and just a little flawed in your logic, but alhaitham finds his chest constricts anyway, finds that even when he can’t make sense of you, that faint thrum of his heart tells him he doesn’t need to. so he rolls his eyes, holds out an arm for you that makes you scoff even as you instantly make your way over.

and when you seat yourself on his lap, arms twisting around his neck as his settle for your hips, you faintly think that the akademiya girls would lose their minds if they saw you like this—like you’re the earth’s core pressed to his hands, like you’re the center of his entire universe.

“it’s a bit unfair to punish me for what other people say,” he hums, making you huff.

“and it’s unfair walking around like this when you’re heavily committed in a relationship,” you accuse, poking at his chest as he chuckles.

he presses a gentle kiss to your nose, lets his eyes close and his breath exhale softly as you cup his cheeks. and even with the endless pile of paperwork on his desk and that meeting he’s forced to join after this, alhaitham enjoys being the akademiya’s grand sage just a little bit if it gets you worked up like this—if it gets you to pay a little extra attention to kissing him and tugging him closer.

and when your fingers slip into his hair, and his thumb rubs circles into your hips, there’s an unspoken truth between you that makes you smile to yourself.

i love you, you think.

i love you, he knows you know.

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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01zfan · 3 months

Text

pray/want | j. sc

bad boy!sungchan x church girl!reader | 9.5k words

back at it again with another installment of my sacrilegious series! hope you guys enjoy heh. loosely based off of it will come back by hozier.

contains: drug mention, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving), biblical references and allusions to mary magdalene

sacrilegious masterlist

you were too forgiving. too merciful. you were raised to think it was a strength. giving extra grace to people who don’t deserve it. forgiving those who took advantage of you.

it was a problem you had since you were a child. you always considered yourself to be empathetic towards others before you even knew what the word meant. if they were mean to you, they must have been having a bad day. if someone took your toys on the playground, they must have wanted it more. if you were pushed, they must be in a hurry. everyone in your life told you this was a strength to have. they presented your patience as if it was a holy virtue, and it was your duty to give it to everyone. your private christian school only further instilled this mindset. meeting everyone where they were often came at your expense, but you didn’t mind. school was an echo chamber of positivity and life was a bubble inside the padded walls of the church.

sungchan was your first introduction to the world outside. he was a new face at mass, round and young just like yours. you remember being confused at the way they scowled at him, how the elders pinched his sides and told him to pay attention to the preacher. he remained unbothered, always picking at the chipping paint on the pews or messing with the flimsy hand fans. you watched as they called sungchan a problem kid and a troublemaker. you think that the words they whispered about sungchan was the first time you were exposed to the harsh reality of people. you watched those words mold sungchan into the very thing they called him. whispers from the elders told you that he was out doing drugs, having sex with women, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. you remember your parents pulling you aside and telling you to not get involved with him, that he would only drag you down.

your empathetic heart couldn’t stop you from extending an olive branch to sungchan. you didn’t see him as the terrible person they claimed him to be. you saw him as a troubled boy with no guidance. he was still so young, the same age as you with baby fat present on his cheeks.

sungchan taught you that your forgiving heart was a character flaw. it was a problem you were developing, not being able to leave him alone. you were like his silent apostle, set on the mission of fixing his tumultuous relationship with the church. you would sit next to him during youth group and answer for him, singing extra loud during hymns incase he didn’t know the words. your voice had gone raw from talking to him constantly. you would talk to him for ages to only get a simple shrug or a one worded reply. it didn’t stop you, only further encouraged you to try and break down his walls.

you came to him in between mass and individual prayer when you saw him sneak out through a door in the kitchen. you found him outside leaning against the church, smoking right below the kitchen window. all someone had to do was look outside and they could see him.

“you know you’re smoking right in front of the window?” you ask him.

sungchan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. your polite and slightly nagging voice seemed to follow him everywhere. but sungchan found himself looking to you often, loving the shocked look on your face when he’d shrug his shoulders and blow smoke clouds into the air.

“i don’t care.” sungchan says.

his tone had become flatter over the years, losing that playful lift he had when you first met him. his sentences had become deadpanned words and eyes became stone. it didn’t drive you away, it only did the opposite.

you come down the stairs, lifting your sunday dress as you did so. the flowy fabric grazed your ankles, and revealed your cute frilly socks. sungchan watched you let the dress come back down your legs, using the same hand to motion at his cigarette.

“can i try?” you ask.

sungchan has amusement on his lips as he raises his eyebrows at your question. he takes in another drag, turning his head away so he doesn’t blow smoke in your face.

“you smoke?” sungchan asks.

you shrug your shoulders, trying to copy the way sungchan did it. it feels awkward pretending not to care about anything and you’re sure sungchan can tell that your shoulders stayed up for just a moment too long.

“yeah. sometimes.” you lie.

you don’t know why you are lying to sungchan, or why the lie fell so easily from your lips. you were never the type to ever lie, telling the truth no matter what consequence fell upon you. sungchan looks towards the door to the kitchen. someone could come out at any moment and catch you.

sungchan was intrigued by you. he let his eyebrows fall back down his face and looked away from you to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette. he was intrigued how you continue to stay there while all of his attention went to the ash falling from his cigarette, something that came like second nature to him. sungchan let his eyes go to your clear jelly shoes, something he had only seen children wear. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh seeing you nervously rock back on your heels while he basically ignored you.

once the ash had fallen to the ground sungchan walked over to you. he looked down with a smirk as he moved it to your lips. when you tried to grab it with your own hand sungchan raised it just out of your lips reach. you looked at him and he lightly shook his head.

“the smell will get on you, let me hold it.” sungchan said.

he watched you as you took your first drag from the cigarette. you almost went crosseyed to focus on the butt of the cigarette lighting up. it was fine only for a moment, before your lungs that were only used to pulling in air filled up with smog. your lungs started screaming at you and you could feel your throat burn, but sungchan looking at you expectantly egged you on.

“attagirl.” he said once he decided you were done.

he pulled the cigarette away from you and watched you intently.

you could only hold in the smoke for a second before you started coughing profusely. sungchan gently clapped his hand over your back, your face started to burn along with your throat and lungs, embarrassed at how you couldn’t stop coughing. the heat only intensified when you looked up at sungchan. being so close to sungchan made you realize how angelic he looked. he was like a cherub, with his soft cheeks and unblemished skin. you were wondering how anyone in the church could call someone so pretty such awful. he had a smile on his face while looking at you, biting his lip to not laugh in your face. he distracted you almost to the point your body forgot it had to cough, having to turn away from his face to cough into your fist. right before you could cough, you heard the screen door of the kitchen open.

“what are you two doing?” a woman said.

you recognized the woman from the congregation. she had a hand on her hip and the other clutching a purse just a little too big for her close to her chest. her dresses always matched her purse, and you always found your eyes ruefully drifting to the fraying garment of her apparel.

sungchan looked at you, like he was expecting you to lie to the woman. your heaves had turns into slightly labored breathing, clearing your throat to keep yourself from coughing. he saw your expression and decided to take matters into his own hands. he leaned against the wall of the church to hide his hand. he dropped his cigarette to the ground behind him, putting out the end with his heel. he cleared his throat and you cleared yours again. when sungchan straightened his back you did too.

“praying.” sungchan said sarcastically.

the lady rolled her eyes. you saw her sneak a pack of cigarettes back into her purse and she flicked her head towards the door.

“go back inside. they need help setting the table.” she said.

sungchan puts his hands in his pockets and starts heading towards the door. he is unfazed by the light scolding, something he has gotten used to over the years. you, however felt your heart drop at the thought of disappointing someone older than you. the shame is doubled when the older lady stops you before you go inside.

“you’re a good girl. you shouldn’t be hanging out with him. he’s a bad influence.” she said quietly.

you know sungchan could hear it, because his steps falter for a moment before he continues walking out of sight. you nod in haste, wanting the interaction to be over. the lady closes the door and you watch sungchan go past the kitchen. he continues to walk down the hallway of the church, far away from everyone else.

the lady’s warning set the dynamic for your relationship with sungchan. it didn’t stop you from seeing him, it could be argued it made you want to hang out with him more. you had become his goody-two-shoes sidekick, tagging along to his adventures and indulging yourself in his lifestyle.

you had your first drink with sungchan. you remember taking the shot, the clear liquid stinging the back of your throat and making your stomach warm. it had become more enticing to you than the blood of christ that touched your lips during communion. the cheers of your name from the unfamiliar faces around you tempted you to take another.

when your hand reached for the bottom sungchan places his hand over yours. you looked up to sungchan and found the same look on his face of when you took your first drag of the cigarette. you didn’t know a look could be so powerful, giving you the courage to do things you would’ve never done in a thousand years.

you watched sungchan’s friend get a tattoo the same day you got your first piercing in the bathroom. sungchan leaned over the sink to inspect your ear, marking the perfect place. you could feel his hot breath fan your neck as he prepped your ear for the puncture.

“you’re parents might be upset.” sungchan said.

he pulled away from your ear to look at you. he was giving you the chance to back out, to refuse the piercing. but it was that look he gave you that had you shrugging your shoulders—it was starting to come to you naturally.

“i don’t care.” you said.

the truth was you did care, but you cared more about the man dangerously close to you. your parents were the furthest thing from your mind as sungchan went back to looking at your ear, sticking a needle through your lobe. the sound you made caught both you and sungchan by surprise. you bit your lip when he did the other ear, not trying to make that sound in front of him again. your teeth nearly drew blood from your lip when sungchan moved backwards to inspect you, making sure the punctures were even.

when sungchan turned you around in the mirror he stood behind you as you checked out the new jewelry. you turned your head, trying to take it all in. you looked to your ears then sungchan, standing behind you with his hand on your shoulders.

“it’s pretty.” you said.

sungchan looked into the mirror to look into your eyes.

“yes. very pretty.” sungchan said.

just when you thought you had sungchan, he disappeared. it was like he was a ghost or a figment of your imagination. one day he was sitting next to you in the pews and the next day he wasn’t. he stopped coming to church, his parents stopped coming too. rumors spread that he had runaway after a particularly bad argument with his parents. the fact that his parents were too ashamed to come back made you assume they did something awful the church didn’t want to admit.

sungchan was even harder to get in contact with. each time you had hung out with him he came and found you. when you wanted to reach him, you realized you had no way to do so.

not being able to see him led to your imagination running wild. everyday you would go outside to the kitchen window where he would smoke, looking out into the forest that surrounded your church. your mind had helplessly come up with a scenario each time you’d walk down the steps. your mind conjured up the image of sungchan hiding in the trees, scared to be seen by anyone else but you. after seeing sungchan you’d stop in your tracks, so surprised to see him standing there. you had practiced your facial expressions, letting your eyebrows raise and your eyes get large. you saw yourself mindlessly walking over to him when he’d beckon to you. you imagined that he would bring you in for a kiss, a type of kiss that would make up for the months of all the yearning and pining.

then afterwards you imagined that sungchan would tell you how much he missed you, not being able to find god at the parties of the bottom of shot glasses. you’d then walk him back to the church and have the congregation apologize for pushing his soul to stray even further away from the path of god. you wondered about a christian wedding, going full traditional. having kids that were baptized for everyone to see. everything about you two would be by the holy book, except for sex. you don’t think you could wait that long.

your manifestation of sungchan coming to you didn’t come to fruition. you didn’t see sungchan until months later as you were leaving choir practice. the expression you had practiced didn’t pan out the way you wanted to. your binder fell from your hands, sheet music falling onto the rocky parking lot.

sungchan came over to help you quickly, catching papers before they could run away in the wind. you had bent down to take the music from him, but you were frozen, stuck in place looking at sungchan. he didn’t say a word to you until your papers were safely tucked away again in your binder, closing it and putting it back in your hands. he looked to you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. your feet were stuck to the ground keeping you both in the squat position.

“hi.” sungchan said quietly.

you nodded you head and cleared your throat. you hung onto your binder, the only thing keeping you present.

“where have you been?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

you had a white knuckle grip on your flimsy plastic binder. you don’t know why you were so nervous to ask sungchan a question. in his absence he had become someone you didn’t want to doubt, scared that he would leave you again.

sungchan’s face flashes for a moment before he stands up. he dusts himself off, metaphorically wiping your question off of him. he holds out his hand for you and you grab it, surprised at how clammy his hand is on yours.

once you’re up you still stare at him like he’s a ghost.

“can i take you somewhere?” sungchan asks.

it was dangerous to have sungchan in your life. you found yourself nodding quickly to every question he had, you think you would leave the church the same way he did if he held your hand while you walked out. seeing sungchan smile outside of the church made you wonder what life was like outside of it. maybe it was nice and you would be happier than you were here. so you nodded as he led you to the motorcycle that looked similar to his fathers.

he helped you to the back and took a helmet out of the side compartment. he coaxed your musical binder from your hands to put it in there, tightening the leather strap to keep it safe. you were nearly shaking with anxiety as sungchan put on his helmet too, throwing his leg over to straddle the seat.

the engine revved underneath you, and your hands that were previously gripping your binder were now clenched at your sides. you waited for sungchan to reach behind him and guide your hands to clasp around his waist.

“hold on tight.” sungchan said as he pushed away the kickstand.

your words were drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle leaving the parking lot. you held onto him, letting your head rest against his back as he hit the throttle. you thought that the road sungchan was taking you down at an unbelievable speed could be comparable to your life. the fear that came with your future turned to excitement when sungchan turned around and looked at you, asking if you were having fun. everything that was scary seemed fun when you had your arms around sungchan’s waist, even the idea of getting into an accident on the motorcycle turned into a thrill for you. it was the same thrill that sungchan always seemed to give you. it was one that only subsided when you used the same hand that signed the cross on yourself underneath the sheets. you pressed your hands flat against his stomach, feeling how solid he was through his shirt. sungchan’s back vibrated against your head from laughing.

sungchan didn’t move your hands until the motorcycle was parked. your eyes didn’t open until the engine stopped roaring and sungchan gently touched you to let you know you had both arrived. you don’t know how long your eyes were squeezed shut to get here. you opened your eyes to sungchan standing in front of you, helping you out of your helmet. this was somehow more intimate than having your arms wrapped around his waist as you two plummeted down the highway. you had to look away for your own good, focusing on the concert venue that had a steady stream of people going in. you saw people dressed like sungchan going in, various crowds of people were around the concert hall smoking while others tipped their heads back and wiped their noses.

“have you ever listened to music that wasn’t religious?” sungchan said.

he had leaned against his motorcycle as you took in the view around you. it felt like you were dropped in a different dimension or alternate reality from your own. you had no idea that people like this existed so close to your modest township. it was all so foreign to you that you couldn’t even find the words to describe the aesthetic. the words came and went, trying to define ripped skinny jeans and people cursing freely. what this had to do with music was beyond you, but before you could answer sungchan’s question you saw him turn his head towards someone in the moving mass of people.

“sungchan! you’re fucking late!”

you followed the voice until it landed on someone dressed similarly to sungchan. black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans, with hair that was so black it shined underneath the street lamps. he looked younger than you and sungchan, he had an innocent look about him that betrayed the clothes he was sporting. the only thing you had in common with the person in front of you was the same beat up shoes you both everyday. you felt nervous and out of place, like you didn’t belong here.

“who is this?” the boy said.

he seemed to know you didn’t belong here either, his voice significantly lower than when he called to his friend. the boys gaze went back to sungchan after giving you a once over. you did the same, looking to sungchan like you didn’t know who you were.

“this is,” sungchan looked like he was contemplating for a moment. a hand that was supporting his body against his motorcycle pointed towards you. “my friend from church.” sungchan said.

anton’s eyes got big for a moment, head slightly tilting in confusion. it was almost like a lightbulb went off anton’s his head a second later. anton turned to you, his face suddenly neutral.

“oh. nice to meet you. i’m anton.”

he didn’t offer his hand out to you, they stayed stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. he nodded his head and you did your best to copy him. it felt just like when you started shrugging your shoulders to copy sungchan. anton took his phone from his back pocket and showed the time to sungchan. it was about to be your curfew.

“wonbin is about to be on soon.” anton said.

“let’s go then.” sungchan said.

sungchan pushed himself off his bike and started following the crowd heading towards the building. you followed behind the two men, not really having anywhere else to go. you couldn’t help but stare at every face you passed by, wondering where all these kids your age had come from.

the only indication that showed you were in your town still was that the building had the same look as everything else in your town. there was a certain archaic and abandoned look to the building on the exterior. the brick had cracks the painting was chipped, and vegetation grew along the edges. the closer you, sungchan, and anton got to the building you could make out the faded sign of what the building once was. it was a factory who knows how long ago, and judging by the size business was booming at one point. now it was honing beacon for all the rebels in your town, young adults that were the same age as you but looked wiser and seemed significantly more mature. you had always been proud of your innocence when it came to life, but your lack of experience weighed down on you heavy as you looked past the large doors into the unknown.

you saw two burly men guarding the entrance dressed in all black with shades on even though it was nighttime. both of their eyes immediately went to you, and you felt even more out of place than before. sungchan followed their eyes to see what they were looking at. he grabbed your hand and you grabbed it back, trying to seem as casual as possible. sungchan visibly straightened his shoulders a little more, his hand settling on something in his back pocket. you saw anton show his ID to the other bouncer while sungchan’s hand led you to the other one. the bouncer held out his hand but before he could ask for your ID, sungchan smiled big at him.

“she’s with me.” sungchan said cheerfully.

“still need to see ID.” he said.

you see sungchan pull whatever it was from his back pocket and hand it to the bouncer. it’s something small, but sungchan’s body blocks your line of sight to see exactly what it is. the bouncer gives you one last look and you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your feet. you’re sure it is painfully obvious you shouldn’t be here. the bouncer takes mercy on you for some reason and nods his head. sungchan pulls you by your hand to drag you inside. the bouncer only continues to look at you for a second before tending to the next person in line.

the inside of the venue was completely opposite of the outside. if the outside was worn down the interior looked like it was recently experienced a complete rebirth. the ground you thought would be cracked concrete was reworked hardwood. the mass of people coming in walked towards a medium sized stage, where a curtain was drawn hiding who was behind it. this was what you imagined to be a concert venue now, equipped with stands on both sides for extra people. you didn’t know something like this existed in your town. you stopped for a moment and anton looked back at you smiling.

“first time?” anton asked.

sungchan looked between you and anton with an apprehensive look. you almost felt like you shouldn’t talk to him before you nodded your head yes.

“this is like sunday mass but for a different type of congregation.” anton said.

you don’t know anton said it to poke fun at you, the smile on his lips fading when he looked at sungchan. but it made complete sense. everyone looked the same, dressed in attire for the occasion the same way you dressed every sunday morning. anton and sungchan bobbed and weaved through the crowd, sungchan leading you through the mass of people until you ended up on the side. anton said something to the security guard, leaning in close before turning around and pointing at you and sungchan. the security guard faltered for a moment before stepping back and pulling open the safety gate. the three of you walked through and made it on the other side of the curtain to a smaller room.

immediately when you walk in the something musty and pungent fills your nose. it’s strong and almost skunky. you look to anton and sungchan—they are unfazed. you don’t comment on the overwhelming smell, or the smoke that filled the small room.

you only remember being in the room for ten minutes before your perception of time changed. one moment you just suddenly felt yourself looking to the clock every ten minutes to see that only two had passed. you sat on the couch while sungchan navigated the whole room. they listened to every word and the way they followed him around made you think of disciples. it made you giggle, you smiling into your hand when sungchan came to you on the couch.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan asked.

he had a smile of his own now, and his eyes were low and bleary. when you forgot the answer you just kept smiling. sungchan smiled back at you. you were giggling while sungchan when sungchan told his friend to break a leg, and you were giggling when sungchan grabbed you hand and took you to the bathrooms. you laughed at how piss covered the floors and how there was no toilet paper or soap in the dispensers. you were nearly in tears when sungchan started stuffing pieces of toilet paper into your ears as makeshift ear plugs. he was laughing too, quelling your worries that the toilet paper would get stuck in your ears.

whatever you felt had died down by the time the show started, the loud music pulling you from your trance. the music thumped in your chest, you had to hold a hand to your heart to make sure it was still beating. sungchan seemed unbothered by being so close to the speakers though. he was cheering and singing along with his friend on stage. sungchan smiled more than you had ever seen him do so in church, and he knew all the words unlike the latin hymns he mouthed unsuccessfully during service.

everyone sang along to the lyrics except for you, bodies bumped into yours and everyone was pushing. if it wasn’t for sungchan behind you, you were sure you would’ve been swallowed up into the crowd. the music was nothing like what you were used to, but you tried to enjoy it anyway. it was different to see what rebels your age were doing while you were busy knowing nothing about life beyond your oratory.

the music blared from the stage, the bass made the floor underneath your feet shake. it went right through the soles of your shoes and travelled up from the balls of your feet. the bass went all the way to your head, shaking the individual hairs and rattling your skull. it was like all your senses were being taken away from you and replaced solely with the music that played onstage.

you could barely make out anything from the strobing lights, as fast as you were granted vision it was ripped away. the flashing lights contributed to the energy of the people surrounded you, like a ticking time bomb as gasoline filled all the way to the ceiling. everyone’s restless bodies started colliding when the music intensified. you don’t know if people started forgetting there were bodies around them as the music got louder and louder. it was the same way it was at sunday service. you saw people be overcome with emotion as they pushed to the music. they were swayed by the band on stage the same way your congregation was swayed by the priest. but just like there and just like now, the only thing that swayed you was sungchan. the only difference was that in church you could only dream about how close he was to you now. his hands rested on your hips as he guarded your body from the people moving around you. you felt his wet lips place a kiss to your neck, so soft and gentle unlike the harsh music that played onstage and the hectic crowd of people that surrounded you.

sungchan’s wet lips pressed to your skin. you could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, and you were sweating on your own. the air seemed to vibrate as sungchan worked his way up to your ear before kissing the shell and leaning further in. you could feel his chest come close to your back as he whispered in your ear.

“i missed you.” sungchan said against your neck.

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what sungchan said to you. his voice had intent, but it was supposed to be drowned out by the riffing guitar onstage and the bass that vibrated the speakers next to you. but when sungchan spoke to you, it cut through all the noise. it made the pulsing bodies surrounding you disappear. suddenly it was just you and sungchan in the venue--maybe in the whole world.

you knew that whatever you said would be lost over the sound of the music. you just tilted your head until it rested on sungchan’s and nodded, to make sure he knew you felt the same way.

you knew sungchan understood when his hands on your hip dug into the your church dress. the fabric stood no chance against his grip, it was almost like there wwas nothing there at all as sungchan held you tight.

“i want you.” he said into your ear.

you smiled as you looked ahead to the stage. want was so juvenile to you. you learned about want and have felt want for so long that it came to you like breathing. the want you were taught about in church was subject to god’s will. what you felt for sungchan couldn’t be contingent on anyone, not even if they were all knowing.

what you needed couldn’t be defined as something so simple as want. it was defined as a burning desire and something you pretended wasn’t a necessity until now. the same way you taught sungchan about the bible you planned to teach him about something else. so while you were shoulder to shoulder with sweaty pushing strangers you turned around to face him. sungchan was still leaned over to kiss your neck when you put both hands to his face to pull him in. he kissed you with want but you kissed him back with necessity. it was carnal the way you took his bottom lip into your mouth and the way the bass in your moan rang in both of your mouths. you only took a hand away from sungchan’s face to push his hands lower on your body. he gripped your ass as you deepened the kiss. you kissed sungchan so eagerly that his face was being pushed back as he tried to reciprocate.

when the song ended you pulled away first. sungchan was in the same place you left him, with his eyes closed and head tilted. his lips were red and swollen. want couldn’t compare to what you felt. you could fill this warehouse to the ceiling with want. what you felt for the man before you was something that could only be expressed underneath the sanctified sheets of your bed.

“my parents are asleep around this time. they don’t get up till afternoon service.” you said.

you said it at normal volume, still thinking it was just you and sungchan. the lights around you barely illuminated your face as your faced sungchan. your voice was lost in the screaming crowd, and sungchan could hardly make out the words your lips mouthed. so he looked into your eyes, he let them guide his next actions as he nodded his head. sungchan looked down to see your hand and your gaze fix on the exit.

the show was over when sungchan grabbed your hand and led you to the exit. it was sungchan who was pushing concertgoers now, bumping into people without care if they were in the way. you trailed behind him, bumping into people as a result of it. you apologized to who you could, but someone giving you a hard look was the least of your worries. you would repent for being impatient later.

you and sungchan beat the crowd leaving the venue. he didn’t bother to look for his friend or to say goodbye. sungchan was only focused on making sure his spare motorcycle helmet was secure on your head before kicking his bike off the ground.

you held onto sungchan’s waist as you sped down the highway towards your home. you took the risk to let go of him when he hit the highway. he slowed down on the empty road to let you spread your arms out. you felt the wind around you, and you hoped it would carry away the smell of cigarettes and skunk that stuck to your clothes. sungchan still knew the way, and he knew to park his motorcycle on the side of the road instead of pulling up to the driveway.

you looked to sungchan one last time before opening the door to your home. he was on his own path that deviated from the church a long time ago. you weren’t sure what he was doing besides enjoying music and doing drugs, but it didn’t matter. him being outside of the church as you were leaving had to be something like divine intervention.

it was that intervention that led sungchan down your creaky hallway, sneaking past your parents that were sleeping on the couch. with a finger to your lips sungchan found himself following someone else’s orders for the first time in awhile, taking the same steps as you to be as quiet as possible.

sungchan walked down your hallway that was adorned with crosses and decorations of angels. he was sure he saw the statue of jesus on the top of a table, and a painting of his birth was stuck to the wall. sungchan let you pass by him so you could slowly open the door of your bedroom. he looked down the hallway to see the glow from the television casted on the wall. he heard the low sound of a late night televangelist before hearing your voice.

“sungchan.”

you called to him gently from the depth of your room. he couldn’t see from his spot in the shadow of your hallway, so his feet carried him until he was beside your doorframe.

sungchan saw you sitting on the center of your bed. you were still in your dress, but sungchan felt like you were laying yourself bare before him. he was frozen in place underneath the rosary that draped your doorframe. he was compelled to do the sign of the cross over his body, but nothing could make him move. it wasn’t until you beckoned to him that sungchan took a deep breath before taking a step into your room.

sungchan said nothing about the religious paraphernalia in your room. suddenly the crosses you had collected over the course of your life was humiliating as sungchan looked at every single one of them. you motioned for him to turn off the lights as he closed the door behind him, but the miniature figure of christ you had on your desk could still be seen in the dead of night. sungchan almost felt like something terrible would happen to him if he mentioned it, like getting struck by lightning or your parents suddenly coming into your room.

the only thing that kept sungchan calm was looking at you. you felt unrest seeing sungchan stand still in your doorway. he must’ve still feared something judging him by the way he looked at you. you patted the space on the bed beside you, adjusting yourself on your knees to seem as welcoming as possible.

sungchan sat on the bed next to you, his legs leaning over the side of the bed. he was ready to get up and leave at any moment. you’re body head to toe is tingling with excitement, and you want to remind sungchan about the want he told you about earlier. you turn your back to him and reveal the zipper down the back of your dress.

“can you help me?” you ask.

sungchan says nothing, but you can feel the pads of his fingers hold the fabric surrounding your zipper in place while he brings the other hand to the zipper itself. you can feel the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your neck that the dress doesn’t cover. you shake as your hear the metal teeth open down your back, and the cold skin of your room touches your skin.

when the zipper is all the way down, sungchan brings his hand to your two shoulders. he slowly helps your arms out of the sleeves, and you let it fall off your body. you can hear him exhale and feel his breath fan the skin of your back. sungchan brings hesitant fingers to the clasp of your bra. you can hear him behind you shuffle to move his body further on the bed.

“can i?” sungchan whispers.

you swallow and nod your head.

“yes.” you say quietly.

sungchan misses the clasp on the first try, and it catches you off guard when your chest suddenly feels free after his second attempt. he helps you out of the bra the same way he did with your dress. you let it fall off your body, falling on top of the pile your dress made.

you stretch the curve or your back. sungchan only looks at your shoulder blades, too nervous to move any further. you lift the top of your dress from the bed and press it to your bare chest. you look behind your shoulder to look at sungchan. his eyes break from your shoulders to your eyes, and then to your lips. sungchan watches you as you move backwards onto the bed, giving him space to move in front of you.

the two of you sit in the silence of your room, looking to eachother. you can hear the sound of the wind blowing outside, and the sound of a loud commercial break on the television in the living room. you move underneath the loose fabric of your dress and bring your legs closer to your body. sungchan shifts too, and you can see his hand reach out before he brings it back to his body. he lets his finger press into the duvet on your bed as you clear your throat.

“do you still want me?” you ask.

sungchan nods his head and moves forward towards you. he still hesitates, not letting his hand that’s on your calf go up any higher.

“i want you so bad. you don’t understand.” sungchan said.

you hated that you understood what sungchan meant all too well. you could sit here and debate the logistics with him, how you could teach him what it feels like to truly yearn something like the way you yearned for him. you wanted to show sungchan about passion that went beyond want, and you longed to drive him so crazy that he would feel the same burning desire you felt when you didn’t see him for all that time. so you grab sungchan’s hand and guide it to the dress you had let go of. it rested on your body like covers, ready to be taken off if sungchan was willing. he looked to you and you nodded your head as he held your dress.

sungchan pulled the dress away from you slowly, revealing more and more of you to him. you gasped as you felt his eyes on you. by the time sungchan takes your dress fully off, you are only left in your cross pendant and underwear. sungchan is entranced, eyes dragging down your whole body. he lifts your legs to help pull the dress off all the way. sungchan gently drops your clothes over the edge of your bed. you point at sungchan’s shirt, and he takes off his shirt and pants too.

you are both left in your underwear underneath the plethora of crosses on your wall. the bible is next to your bed on the table with a rosary piled neatly on top. it’s ignored when you sit on your bed and spread your bent legs slightly. sungchans hand starts from your feet, tracing up your leg slowly until he reaches your knee. his fingers come down your leg as he slots his body in between them.

his fingers don’t stop until he thumbs the cross pendant on your necklace.

“sign of the cross.” sungchan says quietly.

you settle further into your bed, and spread your legs further.

“do you remember how to do it?” you ask

sungchan nods before bringing three fingers from his right hand to your bare body. he touched your forehead, then dragged his fingers down the valley of your chest to your solar plexus. sungchan touched both of your shoulders, using your collarbone as a guide. you let out a breath sigh of amen, but sungchan didn’t do the same. he brought his hand back to your stomach, going lower and lower on your body. he looked at you for permission, and you nodded and spread your legs further.

you felt the carnal desire that evolved from want fill your room to the brim as sungchan let his fingers go underneath the waistband of your panties. he teased you only for a second, the pads of his fingers bumping your clit before his fingers went further down your folds. you gasped when sungchan finally put his fingers inside of you. he kept his fingers still for a moment inside of you, waiting for you to adjust and move first. you wasted no time pulling your hips back to bring them forward again as you used sungchan’s fingers to pleasure yourself.

he brought his other hand to your lower stomach, feeling the supple skin of your stomach.

“i’m so bad for you, you know.” sungchan said.

his actions differed from his words. the way he had his fingers on you made you feel so good, and the high you felt from the drugs in your system and the rush from the night made you want to continue chasing that feeling. so you ignore sungchan’s indirect warnings and continued to push your hips to meet his fingers.

“i can save you.” you whimper quietly.

sungchan looked from your hips to your eyes. he looked deep into you but you didn’t shy away. you continued to push your hips to feel his fingers go inside of you deeper. you didn’t break eye contact until sungchan bent his fingers and hit a spot you didn’t know existed. you bit your lip and tilted your head back. your whole body leaned, forcing you to prop yourself up on your outstretched hands behind you.

sungchan moved from his spot on the bed to get closer you. he hovered over your body, his hand on top of yours as his other hand continued to pump in and out of your body. you looked up at sungchan, spreading your legs further as sungchan took over. he let you rest as he started doing all the work. he wanted it to be fast, seeing your chest jump as his finger started pistoning into you. you brought your hand that was free to hold sungchan’s bicep. he still held your gaze, nodding as you let quiet moans fall from your lips. your eyes closed in bliss—you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth.

“oh my god.” you sighed.

“i know.” sungchan whispered back.

sungchan kept going, even through the pain of you digging your nails into his skin. he kept going even when you fell to your back and closed your thighs around his hand. sungchan didn’t stop until you cried out his name from your pillow and slick want came from you. you clamped around his fingers and sungchan scissored them inside of you, trying to give you all you could take. he didn’t stop until your legs slid down your bed and you used a weak hand to pull his fingers out of you.

sungchan watched you bring your hand to your chest as you stared at the ceiling. sungchan laid on the bed next to you and placed a hand next to yours. he could feel your heart pounding in its cage. he brought a hand to his heart and he could feel it beat with the same urgency.

you let yourself relax next to sungchan. you let your hand go down his body. you do the same thing sungchan did to your body, your three fingers grazing across his body before going underneath the waistband of his boxers. you look up and kiss sungchan’s forehead as you wrap your hand around his length. it’s heavy and twitches in your hand as you slowly stroke him.

his usual demeanor crumbles almost instantly, he is the vulnerable one underneath your touch. he pushes his body further up until he is resting against the headboard of your bed and you follow him. you face sungchan as you continue pumping his length, and his hands dig into your sheets. you come closer to his lips to kiss him again, trying to swallow the tiny sighs he lets out. sungchan gives you the reins and you let desire take control of your actions. desire makes you pull down sungchan’s waistband and it makes you put your tongue into his mouth. sungchan pulls his underwear off the rest of the way and you take a peak at his length. in the darkness of your room the moonlight comes in perfectly, giving you just enough sight. you can see your hand glisten in the light as it goes up and down sungchan’s dick. it’s a soft wet sound, only magnified by the quiet of the night.

sungchan grips your hand and tightens it around his length. he starts lifting his hips to fuck himself up into your hand and you watch his body work to bring himself pleasure. you can see the sweat form on his taut skin, and his hair starts to stick to his forehead from the exertion. sungchan can barely bring himself to look at you as he chases his own pleasure. you force him to make eye contact when you move his bangs from his face and lift his gaze with fingers underneath his chin. the pace he set with his thrusts falter for a second when he looks into your eyes. you help him by bringing your hand down faster and tighten the grip of your hand. you can feel sungchan’s hand clasp around yours further, and how his thighs start to shake from the work of thrusting.

that’s what separates you and sungchan. his want drives him to hastily fuck your hand, trying to reach a high that only came to him hours ago. what you needed has had time to ferment. it started as want—you wanted sungchan to come to church. you wanted him to find his path. you wanted him to kiss you. but it had time to brew in your stomach over the time time you didn’t see him and when your mind was forced to fill in the gaps. it was like a wound, festering on your skin and reopened anytime sungchan came into your orbit. he knew nothing about yearning or craving something the way you did. but you kept pumping your hand for him, because you wanted to keep him coming back for more. you wanted to become a wound on his skin and burn the fleeting touches into his brain. you were going to become something sungchan longed for, and maybe over that time your own craving would subside. sungchan would need you and you would be able to use a word as weak as want to describe how you feel about him.

when sungchan’s hand go back into your panties, your hand faltered. you looked to sungchan bewildered, but he only looked back at you with blown out eyes. his eyes consumed you while his bitten lips drew you in again. maybe sungchan already felt the same as you, he was just better at hiding it. maybe the plan you had for sungchan would end up destroying the both of you. you didn’t care as you helplessly rutted into his fingers. if desire killed you before it subsided to want you would be okay with it. if you were to die at the hands of something that felt so good, you would welcome it with open arms.

you brought your mouth away from sungchan’s to go to his neck. you suck and bit at his skin, and he brought a hand to your back to bring you closer. you were kneeling beside his body, praying into the skin of sungchan’s neck as he whimpered next to you. in the comfort of your bed kneeling wasn’t painful. you wondered why you spent so much of your life kneeling for forgiveness on the rough ground of the outside world or the padded walls of your church. you wasted your time kneeling to anything but pleasure.

your revelation hits you the same time it hits sungchan. he thrusts into your hand once more before staying there. he whined quietly as his hand presses deeper into your back and inside of you. you can feel his dick twitch and warmth covers his hand and yours in spurts. you continue to pump his dick as he becomes a mess underneath you and you grind your hips on his hand so you can feel your own revelation again. your body turns to jello for the second time of the night as you lean your entire body weight against sungchan’s chest. you can’t stop letting your sounds increase in volume as you lean further into sungchan’s chest. you let your sounds out into his clammy skin as he continues to finger you. you have to take your hand from his dick and pull his hand out so you can calm down.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says.

he wraps both arms around you and brings you weak body in for a hug. you only shake your head, trying to form a coherent thought.

”it’s okay.” you whine.

after you come back from heaven, you realize exhaustion is starting to weigh down on your body. you’ve had a busy day, the adrenaline high crashes down on you fast. you end up drifting to sleep still leaned against sungchan’s body, but he is left wide awake. he only says your name once, slightly shaking your body to see if you will come to. you don’t wake up, and sungchan uses what’s left of his energy to slide down from the headboard so you’re both laying on the bed. sungchan feels the mess he made over his hands and stomach. he believes that he doesn’t have a home here, or the right to lay in your bed. so he gently moves your sleeping body, pulling your hand wrapped around his waist and turning you so you lay on the pillow. your body instantly adapts, pulling in a blanket to hold it the same way you were holding him.

sungchan gets up from your bed and starts putting his clothes back on. it’s slow and hesitant—he does everything in his power to keep you asleep. sungchan starts walking towards your door with his jacket and belt in hand when he hears shuffling on your bed.

“do you need a place to sleep tonight?” you whisper sleepily.

sungchan froze before he could turn the handle. he looked back at you, seeing your state and he nodded solemnly. you thought even in the dark of night you could see his crestfallen face, or maybe it was waves that radiated off of him in droves. you thought for the night he wouldn’t be alone as you lifted up the corner of your sheets, showing an empty spot just for him. sungchan came from your doorway to your bed, setting his jacket on the back of your chair and taking off his jeans. in just his boxers and shirt he crawled underneath the covers. he held open his arms, showing he had a spot for you too. you nestled into him without hesitation, tucking your head underneath his chin.

“i would give you anything you need.” you whispered into sungchan’s chest.

his arms around your body wrapped around you more, pulling you closer. you had almost wished he had drifted off to sleep. you wanted to whisper into his chest that he could come to you like a stray cat, wounded and hungry and you’d take him in each time. you wanted to tell him that you didn’t care if you were too forgiving or too naive. you wanted to be there for him like a saint if it meant you could continue to receive his offerings. if you enabled him until there was nothing left you would savor each moment you had with him. if you ended up saving sungchan you would make a future with him.

sungchan knew that he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of you even if he tried. something about you entranced him and had him wanting to come back. maybe it was the way you prayed with the same hands you used to undress yourself backstage. he imagined nights in the near future of him sitting on the edge of your bed while you gave him a show. maybe it was a trauma response. sungchan knew that the life he was living would drain him emotionally and physically. if he were to appear on your doorstep in the dead of the night after a show or a bender he knew your forgiving heart would let him in. he knew you couldn’t bare to see someone else in pain, especially if it was him.

you both knew the dynamic you two were actively changing all night was going to become volatile later down the line. you would end up taking mercy on sungchan’s self-destructive lifestyle in exchange for the freedom he brought you, while sungchan would use you to recuperate before going out and destroying himself some more. you would try to change him under the guise of showing him “the light” and he would corrupt you under the guise of showing you life outside the church. who needed who more would only become blurred and several lines would be crossed. you both knew you were trapping yourselves in a vicious cycle, one that you would probably go through on your own to keep it a secret from the church and your family.

it didn’t matter when sungchan sighed contently and kissed your forehead. his lips were soft against your skin, it brought you the same comfort the church used to bring you. so you sighed from the comfort and settled further in your tomb, underneath the six layers of your clothes and blankets. your body was still cold, the only thing that brought warmth was sungchan’s body. it made you feel like you were alive, like you would be reborn when you emerged from the covers in the morning.

“you know i’ll be back.” sungchan said clearly.

when you woke up the next morning, sungchan had dug himself out from under the blankets. he had risen revived from your forgiveness while you were left alone in the grave.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: sacrilegious #sungchan smut #riize smut

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ladyelissarose · 10 months

Text

‘Reckless’

Summary; Miguel finds out why you’ve been too careless and reckless on missions..

Warnings: an argument between the two- its not to heavy.. mostly hurt/comfort

“Ow-“

You had just flinched your arm away from Miguel when he had grabbed it. You cradled it close to you as he then scolded you firmly, keeping an eye on you as you refused to meet his,

“You lied. It’s not a scratch!! You broke your arm and he almost had your head!!”

You rolled your eyes at his loud words and even scoffed, even though you winced when you tried to put your arm down, trying to show it was ok- which you totally failed at doing. Nonetheless you sighed, annoyance evident in your tone,

“Ok maybe I did! But it’s not that bad-“

With one hand on his waist and the other pointing at you, he snapped,

“You disobeyed orders! You’re making close calls and I don’t like it! Yes we can get hurt on the job, but not like this when you’re making poor choices.”

Feet planted on the ground you tried to keep a steady position and look strong, taking his yelling about safety and all, but in reality you were in pain and felt lightheaded, and slowly you were growing frustrated because of it as Miguel ranted on.

“Come on niña!! (Girl) what’s the matter with you-“

Finally you’ve had enough of his mountain of a man speaking down to you as you were of course shorter… but in his eyes all he saw was you being very careless.

The pain was getting to you, making your emotions swirl out of place, hence why you screamed,

“AND WHAT’S YOUR POINT!?”

Miguel flinched a bit at your unusual behavior with him, but he couldn’t help but let his ego bark back at you with some honesty to wake your head up.

“That you could’ve been killed!! That’s the point! Do you know what kind of problems that would’ve caused? Pain or anything? Cómo puedes ser tan imprudente y no preocuparte por las consecuencias, niña terca?!” (How could you be so reckless and not care about the consequences you stubborn girl!?)

Tears of anger and pain grew in your once sun-shining eyes as you shouted back, trying to reason out your deal,

“Because I have nothing to lose ok!?? Maybe that’s why I don’t care as much!!”

Miguel was about to yell back, but your words caught him off guard. Like if someone sucker punched him.

He didn’t look so bulky or so scary anymore, when he lowered himself onto one knee to get on your level, as he reasoned with curiosity, one hand resting on your good shoulder,

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

His brown eyes showed his genuine concern for you, unlike anyone you’ve known. You wanted to keep tough and play as the fearless Spider-Woman you were, but it was made impossible when Miguel got a hold of your cheek, beckoning you silently to speak up.

So at last, you broke and confessed, like a little girl and no longer like Spider-Woman.

Letting the façades you wore tumble down through your tears, into his large hands that would catch and hold them all.

“Nothing.… that I have no one back at home.. no family to mourn me. Bury me. Cover my graves with flowers. Like if I had to put everything aside and boil it down for me- I’m… alone.”

His lips parted a bit, as his eyes searched yours, trying to find the right words to say.

It had been a while since he’s used good encouraging words while being kind, but suddenly it was like a switch that flipped in him, and almost immediately he found the words, and he patted your cheek gently as he cooed, his anger and disappointment long gone.

“You’re not alone. You have me.. and I’ll never leave you out like that. But even then I won’t ever do such.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged a bit and shyed out with his eyes everywhere but on you, mostly cause of the fear it caused him to think of you six feet under, and he knew it’d be seen on him.

“The burying thingy and all.”

‘Oh so he wouldn’t bury me then? Or what?…’

“Oh.. why?”

Disappointment was heard in your voice, and Miguel was quick to address with his eyes on you this time, wanting to show he meant it with every bone and vain in his body,

“Because Dulce, I wouldn’t ever let you die on me. You’re not allowed to die under my watch, te lo prometo.” (I promise you that.)

Shyness took over you as the realization of your craziness, thinking it was ok to give up everything of you, when you had so much to lose.. so you apologized immediately.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t know what I was thinking-“

“Shh shh sh.”

He shushed you right away, letting you know that it was ok as he added,

“It’s ok now.. you’re safe, alive, and here… No más lágrimas mi amada.” (No more tears my beloved.)

With gentle hands he cradled your face and let his thumbs wipe your tears away, refusing to let them fall.

He now wanted to see you cheered up, so he offered with the best smile he could muster.. if not the only one he showed- but just to you.

“You want ice cream after we leave the med? It’ll help with the fever you got.”

Twinkles were shining in your eyes as you replied with a nod,

“please?”

He chuckled at the sight of joy beaming on you, and he then stood up to his full height and took your good hand in his, leading you out as he responded sweetly, squeezing your hand comfortingly,

“of course Dulce-“

Then with a smirk most likely painted on his face, he added,

“-ven mi shadow.” (Come my)

Miguel knew deep down he had thought the same thoughts once, but with you around and so much more? He’d rather deal with the the weight of the good and bad everyday, then leave empty.

#miguel o’hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara x platonic reader #dad miguel o'hara #sunshine x midnight #Miguel x Dulce #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader fluff #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara angst

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luveline · 1 year

Note

I would LOVVEEE shy reader with Hotch. R being a techy desk person, works in the unit but not like IN the unit ygm ygm. Really clumsy and stuttery.. if that makes sense. Please and Thankyou you are the best 💕

ty for your request! cw suggestive (hotch likes ur thighs <3) fem!reader | 1k

"Oh, no," Hotch hears you muttering, your voice a hair's width from distress. "Why? Shit."

He considers knocking, but he's a little concerned, slipping in through the ajar door into your small office. He grimaces every time he's in here, knowing that while your tiny working quarters are legal, they aren't nice. At least you have a window..

You're under your desk. Bent away from him, you have a triangle of naked skin on display where your blouse is coming untucked from your skirt. Your hands search slowly over the floor, a meticulous left to right that makes him think you've misplaced something small.

"L/N?"

You jump up fast and crack your head against the desk. Hotch is startled into flinching himself, rushing forward to help you out and onto your feet. He slips his hands under your armpits and pulls you up gently, a familiar grimace falling into place.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I didn't know you were there," you say, sounding very sorry considering it's all his fault.

"Sit down."

He encourages you into your desk chair. You've a hand over the back of your head, cradling your likely tender scalp, your eyes closed tightly.

"Are you in pain?"

"It's fine," you say.

"Does it hurt?"

His tone leaves no room for debate. You open your eyes like your lashes have been doused with glue and smile at him awkwardly.

"Stings," you confess.

"Can I?" he asks.

You stare at him with your eyes widened. Hotch isn't stupid, he knows that he makes you nervous, and that his touching you is one of your worst nightmares. He knows why he makes you nervous, too, but he's kind as well as perceptive, so he pretends that he doesn't.

"O-okay," you stammer, "sure."

He frames the base of your head with one hand to encourage your head into the light. With the other, he parts your hair in search of a cut or bump. He can't see anything yet, but that doesn't mean a bruise won't develop, or a low level concussion. He indulges in some invisible unprofessionalism and strokes your hair down flat.

"It looks alright. But it won't hurt for you to take it easy."

You nod hurriedly and then wince. He tries not to give you a told-you-so look, though disapproving seeps into his frown lines anyway. You noticeably wither. Not his prerogative to upset you in anyway, Hotch tries to fix what he can.

"What were you looking for?"

"Oh! My SD card, it's uh- uh, it's one of those micro ones."

You go to ease off of your chair and Hotch hums assertively.

"No, sit. Please. I'll look for it."

You swallow. You're so perturbed that Hotch feels intensely fond and immeasurably sorry for you. He isn't a spring chicken but he can kneel down on the floor next to your chair without any issue. He can tell why you struggled to find the card, it's cramped and dark beneath your desk, and it takes him half a minute to find it. The plastic is cold between his fingers.

He sits up, and finds he's sitting at your feet, at your knees, eye level with your chest. You're clearly flushed at his position, looking anywhere but him, a tremor coursing down your chest all the way to your knees. Hotch is mature, he's clear-headed, but he can't not notice how your thighs look when they're trembling.

He cannot be where he is. He tries to grab your chair and he's not thinking clearly and his hand lands half on your stocking-clad thigh.

You choke on a breath. It's adorable and awful. Hotch keeps his expression neutral though he's feeling anything but, clambering onto his feet with less agility than he'd hoped to.

"I'm sorry," he says.

He doesn't have to explain what for.

"No, it's okay. Of course it is," you mumble. He can pretty much see the steam curling from your ears.

He holds the SD card out to you. "Here."

"Thank you, thanks. Um. What did you need? If you– needed anything." You're practically disintegrating. Hotch is feeling similarly.

"Uh–" Oh, he's drinking tonight. "I wanted to talk to you about our VICAP ease of access. You made such a difference when you implemented those changes last month, there's only a few more things I wanted to ask of you. After that I'll leave you alone, you have my word."

You rush to grab your notepad. Despite your poor nerves, you jot down everything he asks of you diligently. You nod when what he asks sounds easy, and bite your lip when you're not sure.

"One last thing. Look at me?"

You look up. He measures the size of your pupils.

"Are you okay?"

It takes some time for you to catch up with what he's asking, your fingers flexing instinctively toward your head, though your hand stays on the desk. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm perfect."

He has to agree. Clumsy and prone to embarrassment, you're a hard-worker with a sweet smile. And, he thinks guiltily, you have very nice thighs.

"Come and find me if you start to feel dizzy," he says, half-joking, and gets the hell out of dodge.

He can't get that angle of view out of his head. Looking up at you, your hands pressed to your sternum, your eyes blinking a tad too fast. Respectfully, he hopes he doesn't see you for the rest of the day. He doesn't think he'd survive it.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner reader insert #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #Hotch <3

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

hi there!! i have a request for youuuu

could you maybe do spencer x bau!reader where the reader is a year clean from self-injury and they have like a little get together with the whole team for it (the original crew, season 2) and everything is happy and okay lol

THANK YOU SM!! i am in need of comfort

Hi lovely! Slight betrayal of the prompt because it's been forever since I watched the show with Gideon instead of Rossi, so I hope that's alright. Thank you for requesting honey, I really hope you're doing well <3

cw: implied past self-harm

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words

These cooking classes at Rossi’s are becoming a semi-regular event. He always claims it's because every one of you could seriously use the help, but he doesn’t really bother selling the lie to your team of profilers. You all just want to spend time together, and he’s nice enough to host.

“You’re way too excited.” Amusement livens Spencer’s tone as you practically skip up the steps of Rossi’s too-large house.

“You’re just jealous,” you say, “that last time Rossi called me his star student and said your gnocchi was as good as mashed potatoes.”

“They’re not really very different from mashed potatoes,” Spencer mutters, but his hand is fond on the small of your back as he reaches past you to ring the doorbell.

JJ is the one who comes to the door. “Hi!” She pulls you in for a hug, giving your shoulder blades a happy squeeze.

“Hi,” you say back, slightly bemused. JJ is a hugger, but usually only on special occasions. You saw her just yesterday.

Spencer rubs a gentle back-and-forth just below your waist at your confusion, encouraging you through the door. “Hi,” he says. “Did you guys start already? It smells like garlic.”

“Rossi pre-made garlic knots.” JJ rolls her eyes, leading the way to the kitchen. “He said he didn’t want to give us the chance to botch it.”

You laugh. “Course he did. At least we won’t all be salivating and trying to eat ingredients this time.”

“See, she knows exactly what I mean,” Rossi gestures to you as you enter the kitchen. “That’s why you’re my star pupil.”

You blush at the rare praise, and Prentiss and Morgan both stand.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Morgan pulls you away from Spencer and into a one-armed hug. You pat him awkwardly on the back. “Glad you came.”

“Of course I came,” you laugh as Prentiss comes over with a glass of wine. “Thanks, Em.”

“Cheers.” She clinks the rim of her glass against yours, oddly smiley. You shoot Spencer a look which he very conveniently misses, and suspicion twitches to life in your head.

“Cheers,” you echo. “So, what’re we making?”

“Lasagna,” Morgan says. “But according to Rossi, it’s extra Italian.”

“It’s lasagne al forno,” Rossi corrects him, pinching his fingers and bopping his hand up and down with each syllable, and you have to suppress a smile at how completely unironic the gesture is.

“It’s beef lasagna,” Prentiss simplifies, ignoring the look of offense the old man shoots her way as Garcia comes in the door.

“Hello, hello!” She beelines for you, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “Ugh, I’m so proud of you! How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” you tell her, more and more confident you know what’s going on. “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” Garcia releases you but not really, taking one of your hands in both of hers and squeezing. Her eyes are downright twinkly with cheer. “Positively sublime, my friend. Ready to do some cooking!”

“Same here.” You smile, squeezing back. “I’m just going to go wash my hands really quickly.”

You don’t have to look behind you to know Spencer is trailing you. He’s hardly left you alone all day, relentless in his doting. You’d thought he was just in one of his more affectionate moods, but now it’s clear why.

For a few moments, the only sound in the bathroom is the smooth sound of water running out of the faucet. Spencer brushes past you to get to the soap, and you push your long sleeves up so they won’t get wet. “You know what today is?” you ask him.

You can feel him looking at you in the mirror, but you keep your eyes on your hands as you lather soap between your palms.

“Of course I do,” he says softly.

“Does everybody know?”

Spencer rinses his hands, drying them on the towel. “I think so. I didn’t tell them, but I’m sure they remembered the same as I did.” His hand finds the crook of your elbow, thumb damp where it slides over a fine white line just under the edge of your sleeve. The contact isn’t anything special; it’s gentle like all Spencer’s touches, an offhand brush of his skin against yours like there’s nothing wrong with you at all. Your throat clogs unfairly. “It’s an important thing, you know?”

“For me it is.” Your voice is smaller than you’d like it to be. You stick your hands under the faucet, relishing the feel of the hot water. “I didn’t expect anyone else to remember, though. It’s kind of…I mean, it’s just a year of doing nothing.”

“It’s not.” Spencer’s palm slides up the length of your arm to your shoulder blade. He rubs between them, quiet until you meet his eyes in the mirror. “It’s not,” he repeats, gently emphatic. “It’s a year of not doing something, and I know it hasn’t been easy for you. It’s an accomplishment, honey. You should get to celebrate.”

“Wait.” You narrow your eyes, a new suspicion taking root. “Is this…are we here tonight because…” You feel silly for even asking, and your gaze drops back to your hands as you dry them on the towel. “Because of my thing?”

Spencer shrugs, borderline sheepish. “I mean, not exactly. We did all want to be with you tonight, but everyone knew you wouldn’t want a party or anything. So it’s more…more of an excuse, really.”

You sigh, turning and resting your head on Spencer’s chest. “How am I supposed to react to that?” you ask him, voice fragile.

His hand comes to rest on the top of your head, a grounding weight as the other continues rubbing diligently between your shoulders. “You don’t have to,” he says. “You’re allowed to feel any way you need to, everybody knows that. They all just want you to know they’re proud of you.” He slides the hand on your head down to cup your face, working your face away from his chest to look you in the eyes. His smile is small but brimming with an affection too big for words. “You’ve been doing really great, you know that?”

You laugh a little, pressing your knuckles under your eyes to dry your lashes of tears that never fell. “Thanks, Spence. For everything.”

“Hey, you did all the work,” he tells you, hand finding its spot on your back again as you lead the way out of the bathroom. “We’re just happy you did it.”

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clericofgale · 6 months

Text

I was planning on writing something serious about Gale...but this came out instead. I have no idea why I'm posting something so unhinged. It's only Gale that make me this way. I sincerely believe Gale is a switch at heart, but since I've seen many wonderful treatises on bottom Gale I think I'll do the other side.

In this post I shall prove why Gale would make a great Dom/top and what I think he'd enjoy. NSFW.

This man is compassionate, open-minded, empathetic, and interested in your pleasure. He is a consent god. All traits of a S-tier dom. He'd be the supportive yet firm type. It's not only Halsin that exudes that energy, I think Gale does too! In my experience types like Gale are usually very good at it. Being a good top requires a good base of knowledge of the human psyche and anatomy. You're basically a sex nerd hacking brain chemicals while doing elaborate roleplay, and Gale is no stranger to research, and taking notes. You need good empathy to gain insight on your partner and feel what they might be feeling. It's very important for knowing when to stop. Being interested in your pleasure means he won't be purely taking. Good play to me is all about swapping and blending each other's energy and being a two-way street.

You always liked the idea of being worshipped. Adored. Obeyed...

This is a line from origin Gale that the player can choose. This man wants to be a god. He wants to be worshipped, and if he can't get that in the form of godhood I don't see why that can't be indulged elsewhere...

Speaking of indulging, when you tell Gale you prefer him naked at the party, he'll reply "I'll be sure to indulge you when you get home." with a smirk. And the teasing kiss where you are denied until Gale reciprocates is prime control material. He would enjoy teasing and denial.

He's a giver because he wants you to come undone and into a puddle of mess. He wishes to find your limits, what makes you tick and what doesn't. He will study every reaction, every weakness...and use it against you. He is an artist and your sounds of pleasure his notes in his newest piece. Gale would enjoy using his oratory talents to overstimulate you to tears, hands gripping your legs tight so you can't escape. You'll be teetering on the edge of wanting him to stop, but he never crests over the limit.

Look at the astral scene! He didn't lose concentration the whole time. Gale would love long elaborate scenes involving illusions. He enjoys showing you the wonders and limits of magic, things you've never seen before. The reassuring way he tells you to not be afraid because he's here with you during the boat scene is the exact tone he'd use while blowing your mind. Imagine the tools he will have at his disposal. Evrad's black tentacles? Mage hand? Simalcrum?

He's a teacher at heart, and have you heard the way he says "very good" during the weave teaching scene?? This man will be using praise and encouragements when you're most vulnerable. Gale enjoys positive reinforcement to get you to submit. Why use harsh words and punishments to get things done, when he can make you kneel all on your own? His buffing lines includes things like "Go on, excel" and "make me proud", and you do so very want to make him proud.

You just know he's great at aftercare. He's the only one to even think of bedding while bedding you, after all. He will always have reassuring words, or a fun joke to break the tension, and plenty of fluffy blankets on a warm bed.

In conclusion, Gale (especially postgame mortal Gale) would be great as a dom and thank you for coming to my unhinged Ted talk. *Bows*

#gale thoughts #Dom Gale propaganda #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 spoilers #hornyposting #Gale headcanon

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autistichalsin · 4 months

Note

Even if Halsin have not felt suited to the role of the First Druid, I have never agreed with this statement. Although he may have been hesitant, he truly went above and beyond his duties. I hold this belief strongly and will continue to encourage Halsin to see this through my Tav.

If he doesn't wish to assume the mantle of Archdruid, that's completely acceptable. He gave his all, demonstrated exemplary skill, and ensured peace within the Grove before departing. If I were his mentor, I would have felt an immense sense of pride in my heart because of his dedication.

Honestly, thinking about what happens during the game and after, I think the problem is this:

Halsin is a great leader, but he's bad at Druidic leadership, specifically. When you're in a leadership position, your values and goals need to align with the group's. While Halsin, of course, lives and breaths Druidic doctrine, he isn't so good at balancing the needs of his group members with his own goals; he looks at things outside the Grove, like the Shadow Curse, and prioritizes what he sees as the most important thing without necessarily explaining this to the group. He doesn't communicate clearly enough; Kagha talks about him "stumbling after the past", obviously not understanding the importance of curing the Shadow Curse. Everyone else, except Halsin, was willing to let the Shadow Curse continue. And of course it's a morally good act to cure the Shadow Curse, but his focus on it made him oblivious to some of the needs of the Druids.

Then you add in his avoidance of his responsibilities due to his tremendous amounts of trauma arising from his first day as Archdruid, and his own admitted inability to persuade the way Francesca could. Unfortunately, persuasiveness is a vital quality of a leader, and Halsin, while wise, isn't always so good at making his case.

It's very telling, to me, that Kagha was so willing to badmouth Halsin to outsiders. The Emerald Enclave (it's not explicitly stated that the Grove is under their authority, IIRC, but very heavily hinted that they're at LEAST allied, because Halsin mentions them refusing to help with the Shadow Curse in a note) has a very strict rule that while, in a meeting, Druids are free to air complaints, outside of it, they are to always act as a unified front, because open airing of grievances weakens the perception of the group to outsiders. Kagha, and many of the other Druids under Halsin's command, were willing to abandon this rule to trash talk Halsin to complete strangers, which means that he never properly instilled that rule in them, either.

Yet at the commune, where his leadership role is less strict and formal, everyone thrives; he enjoys his role. The key difference is that the leadership expected of an Archdruid was more structured and authoritarian; they were expected to be the firm decision makers, the ones In Charge, the ones to make plans of action and to manage problems. On the other hand, he indicates in tone and with a few lines (and a devnote that refers to him as an "informal elder") that his commune is a group effort; he's a guide, he gives advice and takes initiative to fix things, but everyone has a say in things.

In other words, he's suited for the gentler type of leadership where he's guiding others and everyone has a role, and not so well suited for the type of leadership where he is meant to be The Authority, What He Says Goes.

That said, he did, of course, do amazingly under the circumstances- he really did the best anyone could be expected to, and if he was TERRIBLE at it instead of simply not GREAT, he would have been ousted at some point over the past 100 years. Clearly no one else felt like they could do better.

But I think it's telling that when Halsin talks to you about his letter from the Grove in act 3, that there's only one response that he truly responds happily to (and gives approval to). He will give vague answers about leaving the Grove if the player reassures him that he was good, or that it's okay to leave (saying that this is true but he has a lot of knowledge and wants to find a way to pass that on). But the response that makes him happiest is:

"Grove aside, I'm glad you stayed with me."

Because what he wants isn't to be Archdruid, or to be reassured of his skills as such. What he wants is to belong, and be needed, somewhere else- somewhere where he is happy. Because he says, multiple times in multiple scenarios, that traveling with Tav is among his happiest memories. With a world-ending threat in front of him, he's the happiest he's been because he's being shown kindness, and consideration as a person, he never got at the Grove. He wants to belong with you because you're the first one to show him it doesn't matter if he is a good leader, he still has a place at your side, he's welcome as he is. And that's what he wants, more than anything- even being reassured of his leadership skills is, to him, almost a confirmation that he has to be a good leader to be Good and Worthy. But saying "look, good leader or not, I'm glad you're with me" tells him that he finally has somewhere he is treasured for himself, and that is huge for him.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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reyalvr · 1 year

Text

IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL | 2

୨⎯ in which a reef boy proves himself worthy of a forest girl’s attention. ⎯୧

genre┊ slight slowburn, angst, & e2l, idiots-to-lovers, fluff, two-shot

pairing┊ao’nung x fem-sully!reader

wordcount┊7.9k

warnings┊ movie spoilers

author’s note┊ thank you so, so, SO much for all of the kind words and encouragement for part 1, my heart feels so happy T^T. i hope you guys like this part as much as the other! i might even make a part 3 but rn my plans for that is to just make it into an extra drabble or a bonus chap (¬‿¬) happy reading!

song recs┊ void, heart to heart, happiness is simple.

《✧》, 《✧✧》

They say starting anew can be done at any given moment. What they don’t tell you is how excruciatingly slow the actual process is. Starting over was never going to be an easy feat, that you were well aware of. But that didn’t necessarily mean that you were used to it. You stared at the Metkayinan boy in front of you, who was practicing the Omatikayan way of shooting an arrow.

“Stronger, Ao’nung.” You adjusted his arms, straightening them out until the bow was aimed properly.

He tried again, this time positioning it slightly better. “What is the point of this again?” His tone wasn’t angry, per say, just slightly exhausted.

“If you truly wish to understand me, you must know how I do things. That includes my skills.” Your reply was curt, your attention only focused on how badly he was holding your bow. You hissed under your breath, moving towards him to adjust his stance once again.

You heard his breath hitch as your hand came up to his back, pushing his shoulders down. He had tried to cover it up with a cough, but you had already caught it. You peeked at him from the side, your brow slightly raised in concern.

“Did that hurt?” You asked, removing your hands instantly.

“No,” He quickly replied, followed by a swallow. “Just- tired. That is all.”

You shrugged, carrying on with your needed adjustments. Weird, you thought. You moved to guide his hands towards the makeshift target you had painted. Once you made sure that he was locked on it, you paused to take note of his stance. You skimmed over his figure, making sure that he was properly distributing his weight throughout his entire body.

“Better.” You said as you stepped away from him. “Let go when you are ready.”

He took a deep breath in, fixating his eyes on the target. He shot the arrow as soon as he breathed out, hoping – praying that it would hit the stupid dot this time. You guys had been here for nearly an hour already, and not once had he been successful. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, stupid, he knew, but he found that he worked better if he couldn’t see you.

You didn’t speak for a few moments, and he was dreading opening his eyes. But the feeling of dread was washed away as soon as he heard the faintest hint of your laughter. He opened his eyes to see that he had hit the target, not directly at the center but close enough to garner your impressed reaction.

“See,” You said as you made your way towards the arrow. “It’s very simple.”

Though your tone meant to be criticizing, the small grin beginning to form on your lips said otherwise. Ao’nung watched as you pulled the arrow out of the trunk with ease, admiring how precisely you were able to do so without damaging the tree itself. You faced him unexpectedly, saying something along the lines of ‘are you hungry’ or ‘what time is it’, he wasn’t exactly sure.

In all honesty, he didn’t hear you. He had been too focused on you to pay attention to anything, really. Only when you were finally in front of him did he snap out of his haze. He would be a goner if he asked you to repeat yourself, so he settled with a simple “Hm?”

“I said you look hungry.” You said once more with the same tilt of your head every time you questioned him. “Are you?”

“I am fine,” He said as he handed you your bow. “Although, I am thirsty.”

“Water boy is parched, who would’ve guessed?” You teased, quickly taking the bow from his hands.

Your next movements were a complete blur to him as he watched you (again) climb swiftly up one of the trees, bow strapped to your back. He had that bow in hands only a minute ago, and though it wasn’t super heavy, it wasn’t exactly light either. To see you not only climb so easily after today’s training but to also have something weighted strapped against you while doing so was, without a doubt, impressive.

“Stop standing there and get over here!” You shouted at him, signaling for him to stand under one of the branches of the tree. “Keep your hands out, do not drop this.”

He ran quickly, looking up at you to make sure he was at the right spot. You nodded, and drew your bow back as you aimed for one of the hanging clusters of fruit. Using the same techniques that you were teaching him, you took a deep breath in and focused. Archery had always been one of your strong suits, and you proved so by cleanly shooting through the stem, the fruit falling intact into Ao’nung’s arms.

When you were back safely on the ground, you gestured for him to follow you back onto the ledge. The eclipse had just set, the warm sky slowly fading into darkness. You sat down, your feet hanging over the cliff. Ao’nung did the same, though he sat slightly behind you. Your turned, arm outstretched for the fruit. He handed it to you, and you split it into two with your knife.

“Here,” You said, giving him the bigger half. “You’ve earned it.”

He smiled slightly as he took the fruit, appreciating your kindness. Or tolerance. He couldn’t tell, but at least you weren’t actively trying to kill him. He took a bite, savoring the sweet juice that was stored inside it. It was silent between the two of you as you continued to eat, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

A fortnight had passed since your guys’ first meeting, and surprisingly things had been going smoothly. Ao’nung had kept his promise, meeting you here before or after eclipse. He was diligent in his learning; watching carefully as you taught him your people’s culture, keeping up with your speed and agility, eagerly waiting approval from you after doing something correctly.

Life in the village had gotten easier, too. Nobody knew of your guys’ excursions, but it wasn’t like you were trying to hide it. No one asked, so you said nothing. During the afternoons you all would sit together by the reef, exchanging stories and jokes after a long day’s worth of training. Your siblings had started to feel better too — most especially Lo’ak.

He and Ao’nung had started to get along, and it lifted a weight off of your shoulders. You guys were finally starting to be one with the Metkayina, and you couldn’t be anymore grateful to the Great Mother. You had prayed a long time for this to happen, and she finally heard your prayer.

You finished your half of the fruit and turned your head slightly to look at Ao’nung. You saw that he had already finished his half a while ago, so you wondered why he remained silent. Usually he was chattering away, talking non-stop by the end of every session with you. He looked at you then, his eyes widening slightly to acknowledge you.

“You are very quiet today, reef boy.” You said, now fully facing him. You sat crossed-legged, mirroring his pose.

“Maybe I am just tired, forest girl.” He replied, smiling softly as he did so.

Your heart skipped a beat every time he called you that, and you couldn’t understand why. Rotxo and Tsireya had called you the same endearment, but they never made you feel like this. You shook it off as exhaustion taking over your body. Without another word, you got up and started packing your things for the day.

Ao’nung remained in his place, keeping his gaze on you. He too, wondered why he was all of a sudden so enamored with you. He instantly turned away from you, shaking his head slightly in the process. Enamored was too strong of a word to associate with you. He did not see you that way – did he? No, he couldn’t.

He supposed that he was just fascinated by you. Yeah, fascinated. Fascinated by your ways, fascinated by your skills… fascinated in you?

Ignoring whatever else his mind would conjure up in this silence, he moved to help you pick up the arrows scattered all over the ground. He cringed at the memory of his failed attempts from earlier. He knew now what this sort of embarrassment felt like – the very feeling that he made you feel. Eywa, he felt miserable.

Truly in his heart did he not understand how you could continue to look at someone like him, let alone speak to someone like him. But here you were, abiding by his request, or rather, plea for forgiveness. He handed you whatever arrows he had collected, avoiding your eyes. He could not handle eye-contact with you at this moment.

“Oh, thank you.” You said in surprise. He only smiled and nodded in response.

“Well I have to get back,” You said, adjusting the straps of your quiver. “Tomorrow again?”

“Of course,” He said, his hand gesturing for you to head down first. “See you.”

You smiled slightly before making your way down. On the pathway home, you kept your focus on the stars of the night sky. Today was unusually odd between you and Ao’nung. Not that it wasn’t already odd between you and him before, but today just felt different. You squinted your eyes as you continued to entertain your thoughts, each one making you even more confused than before.

May Eywa give you a sign of stability and strength soon, or you might just lose your mind.

You sat quietly inside your marui pod, helping your mother chop the vegetables harvested earlier today. You needed this, needed to focus on something other than training and him. Your mother, though initially surprised, happily agreed to letting you help her.

You saw from the window that your siblings and friends were sat together at the usual spot, talking intently with one another. You smiled, happy that all of you were now comfortable enough to be in each other’s presence. You saw Kiri smile widely after something Lo’ak had said, and you presumed that it was most likely another stupid joke of his.

Then you saw Ao’nung speak up, moving away from his leaning position against the tree. He spoke with your brother, and he had the exact same look when he would be explaining things to you guys. You furrowed your brows in confusion as the other Metkayinan kids started to speak up against Lo’ak as well. What was going on?

“Ma’ite,” Your mother said, suddenly pulling you out of whatever fixation you had. “You can go to them if you want to.”

You hadn’t realized how focused you’d been, finally noticing the way your ears had perked up as if you were trying to listen in on the conversation.

“It is fine, mama. I just got distracted.” You said as you continued chopping whatever was left on the cutting board. “I’d just like to be away for a while, is all.”

Your mother paused whatever she was doing and moved to sit closer to you, her attention now solely focused on your feelings. “What is wrong?”

You shook your head to assure her that nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong, but you felt weird ever since that night with Ao’nung. The last few sessions with him were short and simple, and the overall atmosphere between the two of you was just so drastically different.

“Mama,” You put the knife down and faced your mom. “When you met dad, you didn’t like him right?”

She smirked slightly, surprised that you were asking this out of the blue. “Yes,” She replied. “I didn’t like him – in fact, I tried to kill him.”

“So why the change of heart?” You asked.

She paused for a moment, her eyes looking deeply into yours. The story of your parents was one that you always enjoyed as a kid, and sometimes you still did. They were legends among the Omatikaya, their story living on forever as they solidified their place in the clan. Fierce warriors with an even fiercer love story. Your mother held your hands, placing them onto her lap.

“Your father was a skxawng, a big one at that. He was arrogant, too human for his own good.” She paused to laugh, seemingly reminiscing her first encounters with your father. “But he learned the truth of our home, our land. He saw me, saw everything. I didn’t fall in love with him simply because I changed my mind – I fell in love with him because he proved himself to me, ma’ite.”

Proved himself to her. You sat there, taking in her words. Proved himself to her. Your dad had put aside his differences and learned her ways, her skills. It sounded all too familiar, and your heart sped up as you tried to separate each of your thoughts.

“But didn’t you hate him for what he did?” You asked, trying to calm your jitters in the process.

“Of course I did, what he did was unacceptable. When he realized that what he was doing was wrong it was too late. Of course I hated him.” She brought her hand up to tuck one of your loose strands away. “But you cannot fully hate someone, just like you cannot fully love anyone either. They balance each other out. Without the balance it wouldn’t be love, nor would it be hate.”

You swallowed hard. Her words had gone directly into your heart, each of her explanations getting closer and closer to what you had started feeling for Ao’nung. Even thinking that sounded crazy, you and him were the last two people anyone would ever pair together.

You hated him, didn’t you? Yes, you hated everything about him; his mischief, his arrogance, his infuriatingly bright grin. You nearly slapped yourself with the last thought.

Eywa, you have officially lost your goddamn mind. You quickly excused yourself from your mother, reassuring her when you stood up so suddenly. You nearly ran into your dad as well, muttering a quick apology to him as you made your way past him. He called after you to ask if you were okay, but you continued on, waving a dismissive hand.

“Is she alright?” Jake asked, approaching Neytiri with the slightest look of concern on his face.

“Yes,” She breathed out, handing him a basket of wrapped meals that needed to be placed atop the fire. “Put these there please.” He didn’t complain, only complying with her request. She sighed as Jake had made himself comfortable next to her, leaning against him for support.

“She asked about us,” She said as she continued to fan the flames. “Asked about how I first met you.”

He hummed in response, intrigued by your sudden interest. “What’d you tell her?”

“That I tried to kill you. And that I hated you.” Neytiri replied, her expression remaining nonchalant. “When I told her everything, she looked like she was remembering something similar to herself.”

“Okay well, ignoring the first part,” He said through his small chuckle. “Maybe she’s just going through something. It’s normal at this age.”

Neytiri only nodded. Normal, yes. But to you? Not so. She said a silent prayer to Eywa, praying that you would get whatever it was you were going through sorted out.

Eclipse had already set, yet you were nowhere near your getaway. You were at the opposite end of it, actually, sitting alone at the empty beach. You couldn’t remember how you had gotten here, hell you couldn’t even remember how long you’d been here. You knew that you would need to get back home soon, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet.

You felt terrible, Ao’nung had probably been waiting for you to meet him hours ago. But you couldn’t face him like this – you couldn’t risk doing something stupid.

You continued to look at the sea, resting your head comfortably atop your knees. You felt the same way you did the morning of your agreement with him, alone in your peace. It wasn’t as relaxing though, since your head continued to spin the harder you tried to think of anything other than him.

It wasn’t like you would be able to avoid him forever either- he was everywhere. Not to mention the chief’s son as well. You were bound to bump into him sooner or later, but right now you were thankful for the solace in being alone.

You hated this feeling; not knowing what to do. Most of the time you were able to think of a solution to your problems, but right now you had nothing. With your mind too clouded to even think of a cohesive plan, you settled for not thinking of anything at all. You willed away any lingering thoughts, only focusing on the low tide.

From the distance, though, you swore you could see somebody on an ilu. At this hour? The fishermen would have already packed up for the day, so seeing somebody out on the water didn’t make sense. You squinted, your eyes further adjusting to the darkness. They were slowly making their way back to shore, and you soon realized who it was. You don’t remember the last time you had moved so hastily, almost tripping over your own tail while doing so.

What was he doing out here? Why was he out here? You ran to hide to the closest place with coverage, which happened to be one of the rock formations nearer to shore. Great thinking, [Y/N]. You thought sarcastically.

You kept quiet as you peeked above the rocks, watching as Ao’nung made his way to where you were sitting only a moment ago. What the hell were you even doing? Nothing was happening between you two, nothing. So why, in Eywa’s name, was your heart beating so fast? Why did you run and hide? You saw that he was carrying a speargun, as well as a sack of what you presumed was fish.

What else would it be? Of course it was fish. You argued against yourself. Who goes out into the sea with a speargun to catch anything but fish?

Your imaginary fight with yourself ended as soon as it started though, as Ao’nung had faced towards your direction. You quickly dove back behind the rocks, but your efforts for staying quiet were wasted as you had accidentally cut your arm on one of the jagged edges of the rock. You held your hand over your mouth, preventing yourself from making any more noise.

You hoped that he didn’t hear you. You’d have no explanation for yourself, and your mind was too preoccupied to think of a believable excuse. Not to mention the growing pain in your arm. Though the cut wasn’t deep, it still stung as it continued to remain unprotected. Blood had also started to drip down onto the sand. If you left now you would definitely leave a trail behind.

“Who’s there?” Ao’nung suddenly called out, his voice sounding extremely intimidating.

Shit. Not good, so not good. You took a deep breath, calming yourself. Being senseless would not help your situation. You decided to stay hidden, not coming out until you were sure he was gone. You listened carefully as his footsteps got closer to your spot, and you prayed and prayed that he wouldn’t see you.

Your prayers were too late, however, as you made eye-contact with Ao’nung. He peered over you, the defensive look on his face dropping as soon as he realized it was you. You felt a sense of deja vu; you were in this situation before, only now the roles were reversed.

“Hi, you.” You said, breaking the awkward silence. You winced, momentarily forgetting about your arm.

His eyes widened as he finally noticed your injury, and he quickly jumped over the rocks to access your arm. He gently grabbed it, not waiting for you to protest against his help.

“I have so many questions,” He said as he continued to examine you. “But they can wait. Come, we need to get you treated.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he dismissed whatever it was with a look. You sighed in defeat, slowly getting up to follow him. So much for avoiding him. You bent to pick up the speargun he dropped in his haste to make it over to you, but he quickly snatched that away from you too.

“Do not exert yourself, you are bleeding for Eywa’s sake.” He said, his words laced in growing concern. “Come.”

You swallowed back any argument and nodded your head. He guided you in front of him, making sure that you were okay to walk without any support. Again it was silent between you two, no bickering, no sly comments. Just silence. It made you feel uneasy, like something was out of balance.

Your mothers words rang in your head. Without the balance it wouldn’t be love, nor would it be hate.

It annoyed you, really, these thoughts coming and going with the worst timing. It felt like there were two people in your mind; one rational and one irrational. The rational half of you wanted to tell Ao’nung that all was forgiven, that you didn’t need to continue meeting up anymore and that he definitely didn’t need to take you for treatment.

But the irrational half, oh Eywa, the irrational half fought to look for excuses to remain in his presence.

You guys had reached the village now, and he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you into the medical pod. You stopped yourself from jolting at the feeling of his touch. It had no lingering meaning, he only wanted to make sure you were going the right way. You were sure of it.

“Sit.” He said, dropping his things by the entrance.

You did as you were told, enjoying the comfort of the plush mat. You watched as he rummaged through the medicinal baskets, going through different jars until he found what he needed. It only hit you then that he wanted to treat you. Not any of the other healers, not even his own mother. He intended to do it himself.

“You know how to treat wounds?” You asked, trying not to sound so shocked. You failed.

He chuckled slightly at your surprise. “Of course I know how to treat wounds. My mother is Tsahik, she would have me used as akula bait if I refused her lessons.”

You let out a small laugh at his response. High and mighty Ao’nung, scared of his mother’s wrath. Not hard to picture though. Your past sessions had allowed you to see another side of Ao’nung that you couldn’t believe existed. Just like now, his smug hunter demeanor nowhere to be seen.

He approached you, sitting in front of you with all of his treatment materials. He held your arm close to him, leaning down to get a closer look as cleaned the dry blood. He was gentle with his movements, careful to make sure that he didn’t hit the sensitive parts of your wound.

“So, are you gonna tell me how you got this?” He asked, still not taking his eyes off your wound.

You bit your bottom lip nervously, not wanting to tell him that you were trying to avoid people – avoid him. He looked up at you briefly, waiting for your response.

“Um,” You finally breathed out. “Well I was just at the beach. You know, resting.”

He hummed in response, his attention back on your injury. He was done cleaning it, and now he moved to reach for the paste he had made a few moments ago. The paste smelled fresh, much like the old concoctions that Kiri and your grandmother used to make back home.

It really was shocking to you that Ao’nung knew how to do this. He seemed like the type of person to only be focused on his duties, especially because of his rank. But then again you were wrong about a lot of things, so there was that.

You coughed, stopping yourself from drifting into your thoughts. “I didn’t notice how much time had passed until I realized it was eclipse.” You looked down, not wanting to look at him in fear of him seeing right through you.

“And then I saw you coming and I freaked, I didn’t know what to do. So I hid, and I cut myself trying to stay away.” You motioned at your wound, and he only nodded. Shit.

“Everything slipped my mind today.” You admitted begrudgingly. “Ao’nung I am so sorry, I forgot about our meeting.”

“You do not need to apologize, [Y/N]. I understand.” He continued applying the healing remedy onto your wound, but you could see that his expression changed. “Admittedly, I was worried. I waited until eclipse but you still hadn’t come.”

The feeling of shame- no, regret crept up on you once again. Now you really felt terrible. You had assumed that he felt bad, but now hearing him say it himself felt like a giant wave of terrible feelings crashing into you. Your ears perked down, your shoulders going limp.

“I figured you were probably somewhere else, doing your own thing.” He said, finishing up the treatment for your arm. “So I left for the day, did my own thing as well. Gave me time to be by myself as well.” He wrapped your arm securely, and once he was sure that the wrappings wouldn’t budge he let go of your. You suddenly felt cold, the warmth of his healing hands leaving you.

“Thank you,” You held your arm close to you. “You didn’t have to do that. I appreciate it. A lot.” You rambled.

He leaned back, arms outstretched behind him. “You’re welcome.” He said through his smile.

The moonlight was bright tonight, the radiance of it seeping in through the openings of the marui. Ao’nung was sat directly in front of the entrance, and he was basked in the night’s comforting glow. He was breathtaking like this, his features sharpened by the shadows. Your heart sped up once again, and you quickly got up before you could think of anything else.

“Thank you, again.” You repeated yourself, slowly making your way out of the pod. “Tomorrow, then?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

You were just about to leave when he called out for you once more. You held onto one of the posts, peeking back inside to hear what he had to say. He got up then, standing closer to you. Your cheeks tingled, heating up as he looked down at you. He leaned against the same post you were on, though his arm was placed further up.

“The funny thing about today was that even though I was alone, free to do whatever I want,” He paused, turning his head slightly to face away from you. “I still kept on thinking of you.”

You were taken aback by his confession. He was thinking about you? Your lips parted, not knowing what else to say to him. Actually, you weren’t going to say anything else to him. Not now at least, not when your heart felt like it was about to explode.

You let go of your hold on the post, finally creating some distance between the two of you. “Good night, reef boy.” Was all you said, your tone light and smooth. Thank Eywa you didn’t stutter.

Ao’nung turned to face you now, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. You could tell that he hadn’t expected this reaction from you, but still he kept smiling.

“Good night, forest girl.” He finally said. “See you tomorrow.”

Unlike most mornings, you were the last one to wake up. Your arm was slightly sore, a reminder of the ongoings from last night. You were lucky to get home while everyone was still awake, avoiding the definite scolding you would have gotten had you gone home any later.

When they asked about your arm and who treated it, you came up with an excuse that even Kiri seemed to believe. You sat outside your family’s pod, your feet dipped into the cool waters of Awa’atlu. You had finished your training earlier than usual despite being late, and you took the well deserved break that you needed.

From your position, you were able to see your siblings in the water. The only one missing was Tuk, who was still inside playing with her toys. She had a different style of training, one less rigorous because of her age. She wasn’t allowed to go out into the water on her own yet, she always needed to be accompanied by someone.

Tsireya was her guide, and she would be here soon to fetch Tuk for her ilu session. You made your way back inside, patting your younger sister on the head. She smiled up at you, her eyes so full of wonder. Sometimes you wished you were her age again, oblivious to the real world. You wouldn’t have to worry about your heart or your mind; only focusing on living in the moment.

“Hey,” Ao’nung’s voice suddenly filling the empty air. “Is Tuk ready?”

You and your sister both jumped at his sudden arrival, and you were confused as to why it was him that was here for Tuk. You looked past him to see if Tsireya was beside him, but again, to your surprise, she wasn’t there.

“Hey,” You drawled out. “You teaching her today?”

“Yeah,” He said awkwardly, obviously nervous. “Tsireya had to help my mother with something, so she couldn’t be here today.”

You nodded slowly, waiting for Tuk to respond. Ao’nung switched between looking at you and looking at the small girl, gauging either of your guys’ reactions.

“If you don’t feel comfortable it’s fine,” He quickly added. “We can cancel for the day, it’s really no problem.”

Your sister had a quizzical look plastered onto her face as she stared at him, as if she were trying to figure something out in that brilliant brain of hers. She looked up at you with the same look, analyzing you the same way she had just done for Ao’nung.

“Tsmuke, what do you think?” You broke the silence.

She waited a few moments before replying, still keeping that same look on her face.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” She finally said, her face morphing back to her happy-go-lucky self. But before you could wish them well, she grabbed your hand and pulled you with her. “But I want you to go, too.”

You looked up at Ao’nung, searching his face for any disapproval. There wasn’t any. How could he be so calm after last night, so composed? You had promised you were going to meet with him again later today, but you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to keep that promise.

You nodded slowly, though you were still reluctant to tag along. “Of course.” You smiled at her, squeezing her hand.

Tuk laughed happily and breezed past the two of you, getting a headstart to the beach. You shouted at her to slow down, and you heard Ao’nung quietly laugh at you. You spun to face him, giving him a puzzled look. He waved you off, still grinning as you guys made your way to where Tuk was at.

“What?” You asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Nothing, it’s just,” He paused to offer you the lead as you guys walked. “You scold her like you do me.”

You faced away from him almost instantly, preventing him from seeing the purplish tint on your cheeks. What the hell was going on with you? Everything he did started taking effect on you, your old composure with him non-existent as the days continued.

“I am not scolding her. She’s my sister, it's a basic sibling concern.” You said, not looking back at him. “It’s different with you.”

“Oh?” His voice laced in sudden interest. “Different how?”

You were glad he was behind you because if he wasn’t, there was no way you would have been able to form a cohesive sentence.

“Well for one, she is a child. It’s inevitable for her to make some childish mistake.” You said. “You, on the other hand, you are just a skxawng.”

He sped up his pace to walk beside you now, and you could hear him continue to laugh. If you had said this to him two weeks ago, you would have been met with snide remarks and sneers from him and his friends. Now it felt different, though you couldn't exactly explain how. All you knew was that you were comfortable enough in each other’s presence and could bicker with each other without having to feel like complete shit.

“You guys, come on!” Tuk yelled, instantly pulling you both back into focus.

You caught his glance at you, and you finally laughed with him as you hurried to catch up with your sister.

You watched carefully as Ao’nung guided Tuk on one of the ilus. He was unexpectedly patient with her, gentle with his words each time she had to go again. It was a stark contrast to your lessons with him – you hadn’t forgotten how he made you feel, nor had he. You supposed that this was another way for him to atone for his wrongdoings; starting anew not only with you but with your siblings as well.

“Good, Tuk.” He praised, this time no longer holding her. “Be steady, focus on the bond.”

Your sister giggled as she started circling around on her own. She waved at you from afar, and you smiled at her as acknowledgement of her achievement. She willed the ilu to swim closer to you, splashing you lightly in the process.

“[Y/N] look! I’m doing it!” She cheered.

“Yes, I see that tskxevi.” You said as you wiped your face. “Keep it up.”

She laughed as she swam away to one of the marker points, carefully navigating through the floating ropes. While she was busy enjoying herself, Ao’nung came and stood next to you as he waited for her to finish the obstacle courses. You moved a step forward, your body automatically creating distance between the two of you. If Ao’nung noticed, he didn’t mention it as he continued to focus on your sister’s movements.

“She’s a quick learner,” He said, nudging your shoulder. “Too bad she doesn’t take after you.”

You scoffed, though it wasn’t out of annoyance. You turned to face him, trying to stop yourself from smiling after smacking him lightly on the head. All he did was smile in return, hands up in feigned defense.

“She doesn’t learn much from you either though, does she?” You teased back, arms crossed. “This is all Tsireya’s work, you were just lucky that she finally mastered her skills today.”

He was about to say something when his smile dropped. You looked at him, confused and maybe even a little scared at what could have changed his expression so quickly.

“Watch out!” Was all he had managed to get out before you were suddenly pushed by a strong force, nearly toppling over him. He tried to move you out of the way, though it was too late as both of you came crashing down into the shallow waters.

You heard Tuk’s voice shout a quick ‘sorry!’ before she turned away again, riding steadily once more as she took control of her ilu. You groaned, holding your head. You tried to look down, still blinking away the blurriness from the water in your eyes. Once you had finally regained your vision though, your body immediately tensed.

Though you weren’t fully on top of him, one of your arms was draped over his chest, causing him to be trapped underneath you. His hands rested at your waist, his grip still tight as he held you close to him in fear of dropping you.

Neither of you said anything, eyes wide as you both remained unmoving. From this angle, you were so close to him; close enough to notice the white bioluminescent freckles that were scattered across his face. Close enough to notice the long lashes that curled perfectly against his sea-green eyes. Close enough to feel his heartbeat, which sped up the longer you continued to stay in this position.

He coughed, breaking you out of whatever trance you were in. “You alright?”

You hurriedly moved your arm away from him, slipping out of his grasp. You sat next to him now, pushing the damp strands of your hair away.

“Mhm,” you hummed out, avoiding any eye-contact with him. “What about you?”

“Fine.” He breathed out. “I, uh, think that’s enough for today.”

He got up almost instantly, water cascading down his back. You closed your eyes, finally regulating your breath. You were still processing what had happened – not even sure if it even happened, but your warm cheeks and beating heart said otherwise.

You stood up, shaking yourself. Composure, damnit. Tuk and Ao’nung made their way towards you now, her little hand clasped around his. You put on a quick smile for her, outstretching your arms to bring her closer to you. She wrapped her arms around your thigh, looking up at you again with those wondrous eyes of hers.

“Thanks,” You said to Ao’nung, slightly stuttering. “For, uh, today.”

“It is no problem.” He said almost shyly. “Tonight?”

Right. Tonight, you almost forgot. “Yes, see you then.”

You lead Tuk out of the water, walking her back to the marui. On the way back home, you could hear her giggle quietly. Though she was a curious child, it was odd seeing her laugh at nothing.

“What is it, tsmuke?” You asked, hand stroking her hair.

“You like that boy, don’t you?” She said through her mischievous grin.

You nearly choked on your spit, and you quickly rushed her up the bridge. You stooped down to her level once you were outside your family’s pod, both your hands resting on her shoulder.

“Why do you say so?” You asked, half in curiosity and half in defense.

She shrugged. “I can just tell. You two act like mom and dad.”

She remained nonchalant as she walked into the pod, sitting down to play with her toys as if she hadn’t just said what she said. Your mouth was agape as you sat outside, processing her words. You quickly went after her, settling yourself beside her. You tried questioning her further but she only shook you off, too focused on her wooden figurines.

Eywa give me the strength, you thought to yourself.

It was well past eclipse now, and your feet dangled over the tree’s wide branch as you waited for Ao’nung to meet you up here. You had caught him earlier at the docks, and you told him to meet you at the ikran’s resting tree instead of on the cliff.

After Tuk’s training session, you had time to think about everything you had been feeling for the past weeks. You didn’t want to admit it, really you didn’t, but your sister had made you realize something that you fought so hard to keep suppressed.

Somehow, in the midst of it all, you had actually grown fond of the reef boy.

Excluding the times where he was a complete nonce, Ao’nung had proven himself to you, just like he had promised to do. Your train of thought was halted as soon as you heard the leaves rustle. Your ears perked up as you recognized his footsteps, and you anxiously fiddled with your hands as you waited for him.

“Hi, you.” He said, the awkwardness from earlier seemingly gone.

You smiled at the phrase. You got up from your seat and walked towards him, reaching into your pouch for the extra visor you had snatched from Lo’ak.

“Have you ever wanted to fly?” You asked directly, not even pausing to acknowledge his greetings.

His face scrunched up in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

You handed him the visor, and it took him a couple minutes to guess what it was. Once he realized it though, his expression morphed from puzzlement to excitement to hesitation. He looked at you as if to say ‘are you sure?’ and you nodded encouragingly.

“Do you trust me?” You looked deep into his eyes this time, no longer hiding your feelings.

“Yeah, forest girl, I trust you.” He said through a slight grin.

“Good.” You turned, calling out for Sìlpey.

Your loyal banshee came flying straight onto the branch. You calmed her down, stroking her leathery wings. She screeched, clearly excited to see you again. You giggled at her, nudging her head with yours.

“Ftue, Sìlpey. Tam-tam.” You said as you continued to soothe her excitement.

You swiftly made tsaheylu with her, looking into her eyes as soon as you were done. You could feel her heightened emotions within you, and you took a deep breath before speaking to her once again.

“Ma’Sìlpey, we are flying tonight.” You whispered, your hand coming up to stroke her jaw. “The sea boy wishes to join us, will you allow it?”

Her neck snapped towards Ao’nung’s direction, her eyes examining him as a whole. It was quiet between the three of you, and you waited anxiously for her response. Her eyes squinted, surveying him even deeper as you tried to flow your memories of him into her.

When you heard her roar of approval, you sighed in relief. You mounted her, fastening yourself securely. You gestured for him to join you, and he moved quickly as he was putting the visor on. You held out a hand for him, and this time he took it without hesitation. He sat behind you now, arms wrapped around the extended leather straps of your handle.

“You ready?” You shouted, looking back at him to make sure he was secure.

“More than ever!” He shouted back, his grin now twice as big.

You flapped the visor down and reeled your ikran in before finally diving down from the tree. You screamed in delight – you would never be able to get over the freeing feeling of flying. You banked hard, swerving up before you could hit the water. Sìlpey’s feet glided against the surface of the sea, spraying both of you slightly.

You laughed as you heard Ao’nung shout in excitement, feeling his adrenaline as you continued to guide your ikran in the air. You looped around the rock formations, flipping and lunging as you did you.

“Go forest girl!” He cheered, hands pumping up.

You couldn’t tell if it was his words or the butterflies in your stomach from flying that made you feel happy; you presumed that it could be both. The night sky was beautiful, each star burning brightly as you flew past them. Your hand came up to his thigh on instinct, holding him tightly as you dove down closer to the water again.

Instead of pulling you away though, he rested his hand atop of yours and he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You turned to look at him, eyes as wide as the moon.

“I don’t want to fall!” Was all he said as he smirked at your reaction.

“If I wanted to drop you I would’ve already done so!” You yelled back, though it didn’t stop you from grinning like an idiot.

You shouted at the top of your lungs as you grazed the water, splashing Ao’nung in the process. His laugh vibrated through the night, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him as you soared. Your heart was heavy, but in a good way this time. Your body felt more alive the longer you continued to fly, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so euphoric.

You continued flying the same paths for a while until you landed at the deserted beach Ao’nung had found you in. He hopped off first, waiting for you to safely break tsaheylu with Sìlpey. He helped you down, his grip gentle as he tried to avoid your bandaged arm. He watched as you instructed your ikran to fly back, and he waited until you were done before speaking up.

“That was,” He breathed heavily, his heart pounding like a drum. “That was incredible!”

Your laugh was like music to his ears, and he felt a sense of pride in being able to garner such an angelic sound from you. Oh Eywa, your mere presence was a sight to behold; in his eyes, the Great Mother had blessed you with such beauty that rivaled herself.

He had always been entranced by you, but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. Now he was finally understanding why. His foolishness – his arrogance had blinded him of you. You were so much more than just a girl from another clan. You were more than Toruk Makto’s daughter, more than just a taronyu from the Omatikaya.

You were you; strong-hearted, alluringly beautiful you.

“That was amazing,” He said, looking at you with so much hidden desire that it nearly killed him. “You are amazing.”

You heard his words, this time no longer glancing away or spinning around. You smiled, his compliment filling you with so much glee. If somebody told you two weeks ago that Ao’nung would be making you feel good about yourself, you would have laughed in their face.

“I mean it, [Y/N].” He took a step closer to you, his eyes wandering your face. “You are so unbelievably astonishing.”

You let him ramble on, enjoying the sensation of praise. Your smile never faltered, only growing as he continued to speak.

“May the Great Mother have mercy on me for how I have treated you, [Y/N].” He said, his tone genuine.

“Oh she will.” You replied, pushing your visor up so you could look at him properly. “Because I have. Believe it or not, reef boy, but you have earned yourself a place in my heart. I think I am actually growing fond of your skxawng ass.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, it gave him the confidence to finally close the gap between the two of you. His hands came up to cup your face as he kissed you, stroking your temples as he did so. Your own hands wrapped around his wrists, your body melting into him as he kissed you for what felt like an eternity.

Ao’nung couldn’t think straight, not with you finally in his arms like this. He felt light-headed, and the feeling only grew as he kept you close to him. You felt the same, your heart exploding the moment you felt his lips touch yours.

When you finally parted from him, you took a second to admire the way he looked right now. This was the Ao’nung that had captured your heart; gentle with a sense of vulnerability. Gone was the boy you had hated – loathed, in front of you stood a Metkayinan boy who’s only hope was to make you feel happy.

“So,” He said, catching his breath in the process. “I take it that I am forgiven?”

You laughed, your hand coming to stroke his cheek. “Yes, you skxawng, you are forgiven.”

He kissed you again quickly before pausing to say something. He swallowed hard as he held your gaze, wanting to make sure that you heard what he had to say.

“I see you, forest girl.” His words were tinged with a slight nervousness as he waited eagerly for your reply.

You only smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his mouth down to yours once more. “I see you, reef boy.” You whispered.

tags┊ @neteyamslovrr, @normspellsman, @netegf, @a-queen-blr, @seashelldom, @ilupearls, @randxmthxughts, @aonungmyaddiction

#aonung #aounung #ao'nung #ao'nung x you #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung fanfiction #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung angst #ao'nung fluff #ao'nung imagine #avatar ao'nung #avatar the way of water #ao'nung atwow #avatar 2022 #avatar 2 #atwow fanfiction #avatar imagine #✎ maxi’s works

419 notes · View notes

reidslovely · 10 months

Note

there were two things that came to mind the first being peter yelling at her and he’s never done that before so reader trying to avoids him for the rest of the day and when she does interact with him she’s silent or acting almost robotic

the second one that came to mind was them getting into a fight and her trying to quit

i see your second thought being super plausible honestly, but let’s combine them. peter is very particular about his schedule and follows it to a t for the most part. the fight started the first or second week she works for him. all over a missed appointment and she swears she wrote it down, but peter is upset because he doesn’t have time for this meeting. he’s got lab time, and a presentation today. he doesn’t have time to meet with this potential investor today.

“what do you mean you missed a appointment!” peter yelled. the slight raise in his voice shocked her as well as him. he cleared his throat and left his suit jacket on the back of his desk chair. “can you not operate the shared calendar i swear doll it’s like you’re completely helpless sometimes.”

that comment strikes a nerve, and it doesn’t help she’s already on the verge of tears from him yelling. peter’s never made her feel so small. in fact he’s only ever been encouraging. and supportive of her she wasn’t helpless, she was learning the ropes of this company still. and her boyfriend being who he was didn’t help, everyone else just assumed she batted her eyes and but her lip to the position.

“well i’m sorry pete.” she jokes dryly lightly trying not to show her hurt. “we can’t all be a super genius”

“yeah but i expected better from you.” all over a calendar

he walks away annoyed. she doesn’t know if it’s with her or the situation but the tone of his voice alone makes her sick to her stomach. she brings him his lunch quietly and doesn’t bother to eat with him like she usually does. she keeps their interaction short and firm.

“doll can you make a call for me?”

“sure.” she nodded not even looking at him as she takes the paper.

“doll.” his voice sung out later, “will you get these filed for me?” he kissed her temple hands on her shoulders squeezing. she shrugged him off nodding.

“right away mr. parker.”

he was thinking of a way to apologize. sending flowers to her desk probably wouldn’t do much and may insight a few scoffs from other employees. not wanting to embarrass her he settled on waiting till they were alone in the building to formally apologize.

but she comes into his office a few hours later before they leave to go home with her two weeks in shaky hand.

“doll..what’s this?” peter asked reading over the paper, hand reaching out for her shaking one pulling her closer to him.

“i don’t wanna work for you. i’m..i’m scared it’ll ruin our relationship.” she mumbled out tears threatening her eyes. peter’s heart swelled in his chest feeling lodged in his throat. “and i really like being your girlfriend and i love you and i don’t..i don’t want you to yell at me over a stupid google calendar.”

“oh doll..no. i was upset earlier i didn’t mean it. i wasn’t even upset at you it was just time stress.” he sat her on his knee. arm wrapping around her waist holding her in place to look at him. “i wasn’t mad or disappointed at all. i know i said something really hurtful and i’m very sorry. and i’m even more sorry for yelling at you.” she sniffled as he spoke, her hand resting on his chest flattening out some wrinkles. he whispered softly to her his free hand rubbing her side.

“i want you here. okay? but if you want to quit i understand and i won’t stop you but i’ll be sure to use my words more carefully and i will never raise my voice again. i am so sorry and i’m going to do better.”

the care in his voice made it easy to believe him, that and his big doe eyes staring into hers assuring her this was the truth.

“don’t ever yell at me again and i’ll stay.” she bargains. peter laughed bobbing his head.

“deal.”

“and i want a raise. for dealing with you here and at home” peter laughed this time throwing his head back.

“i’ll talk to human resources about the ethical standards about that.” he responds standing her up off his lap. as he packs up his office for the night.

“m.j.’s your human resources officer i think she’ll agree with me.” you hummed turning the light off as they left the room.

#bambi talks #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #andrew garfield #bambi and friends #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm spiderman #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x self insert #ceo!peter #ceo!peter parker

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muffinsin · 9 days

Note

Hi Muffin, I want to talk to you today about caffeine. We need it to help keep the capitalist machine going, and we love the medium it comes with. May it be your irritated glow in the dark Monster drink or your garbage coffee that helps make up for the lack of sleep from doomscrolling or reading fanfic till 3 am that kept you from having a good night's rest. Unknown by some, caffeine is diuretic, meaning it attracts water to the milecule, explaining why one would feel the urge to pee and dehydrated after consuming coffee in a short amount of time. Make sure to drink water!

Now that's out of the way, how would the sisters communicate in a nonverbal way of telling s/o that they're in the mood for some loving? Fluff or NSFW is entirely up to you.

Thank you!

- Concerned Hydro Anon

Hey hon! :) Whew, I’ve wanted to get to this one for some time already!🙌🧋considering this a reminder for y’all to stay hydrated!

Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

Non-sexual loving

She often doesn’t quite feel encouraged enough to outright ask for affection and love

Often merely because she is stuck in a headspace of needing to earn such love and affection

She does, however, supply you with hints

And while in the beginning, you struggled to see this, in time you grow very accustomed to these hints

Hints, such as the softness of her eyes and posture

The vulnerability she shows you with her body language alone

She’s quieter, and when she does speak, her voice is quiet and soft. She doesn’t feel like thinking, or talking

She wants your attention and affection

Her timid behaviour comes with a little smile whenever your arm wraps around her

She immediately inches closer to you, the smile widening, her bright eyes set on you

Her favourite form of affectionate loving is to be cuddled and held in your arms

She relaxes immediately after a long day, content to spend the rest of it with only you

At rare times, Bela might push herself ever so slightly against you when silently asking for your affection

She’ll nudge you with her arm, press her cheek against your head, maybe even reach out to hold onto your arm or sleeve

When left unnoticed, it’s not uncommon for her flies to release a series of low grunt-like buzzes

These usually turn into loud purr-like noises the very moment you touch her and pull her to you, however

Bela is capable of getting completely flush against you in those times, nearly melting against you in an attempt to be as close as can be

She usually stays in such positions after a long day of a lot of work, her tall body flush on top of you, your hand in her hair, her flies buzzing loudly and all too happily at every little touch

With all this affection and comfort, you can usually even get your little workaholic to sleep for an hour or two during the day

Bela, of course, will always insist she was merely resting her eyes in order to think

When asked what she is thinking about in those times, an adorable blush paints her cheeks pink and no words come from her lips

Sexual loving

Bela is surprisingly shy asking for sex

Now, she has never had as many lovers as her sisters, and by far not as many flings

And still, she often gets in a rather desperate mood around you, seemingly out of nowhere, and only satiable by you

But asking outright? Flirting outright? Her cheeks heat up a little at the thought. No, she likes being more subtle, if she can be

Not to say that there are no times in which she cannot help herself any longer

When her hips grind against your thigh after merely sitting in your lap, when her fingers close around your wrists and she brings your hands to her full breasts with breathy moans

Still, she prefers a subtler approach

Bela likes to seduce, rather than boldly state what she wants

Her voice gets breathier, her words hold a flirtatious tone and implications

Sweet, innocent kisses end as battles between your tongues, her hands sat a little too low on your hips

Her hips grind forwards ever so slightly during kisses, rolling and rocking even without your touch, swaying without her intention, even

When being touched by you, soft moans and gasps pass her plump lips

And once your hand finally reaches down, slips beneath her panties and your fingers touch her pussy?

She is sopping wet

Soaked through her panties, Bela is all but ready for more than mere kisses and gropes

She yearns for your touch, and wants to touch your skin in return. Not to say there aren’t times you’d be in the position to tease your girlfriend for some pillow princess-like tendencies, which she never fails to refuse and claim are entirely false while a warm blush covers her pale cheeks

Often, these little hints of hers lead to hours of passionate sex

Some in her office, others in the bedroom, rare circumstances in which this happens in a rather public space, even

Because no matter how tidy and strong she likes to present herself, when her pussy throbs and she leaks through her panties, she wants- and needs- you

Cassandra

Non-sexual loving

As bold as this one is, Cassandra isn’t quite to used to- affection

To asking for it

To receiving it

To enjoying it and taking it in

But, there is something about you. Something that makes her trust you, your words, your feelings, your love

She trusts you

And as such, sometimes, she craves you

She craves your touch, your love, your attention, your comfort, your affection, all of you

And yet, she can’t bring herself to ask you for it most of the time

Not verbally, that is

Perhaps, in some ways, she seems like an overgrown cat to you

Such as when you sit and work at a desk and feel her head bump against your side impatiently as she sits next to you, over and over again

Until, at last, your hand drops down and you begin stroking her dark hair and scratching her scalp lightly

Her flies buzz happily, her head turns a little and she leans more into your touch

A small pause from scratching and petting has her whine and growl quietly, her dark golden eyes looking up and set on you

Sometimes, this has you giggle

At other times, her near-death stare has you shiver

Other times, she demands some loving in the form of holding your hand

While she dislikes most forms of affection in public, hand holding is somewhat allowed

She’ll drop her hand beneath the table at dinner or breakfast, her fingers intertwining with yours

She especially likes when you squeeze her hand at times

But her favorite when it comes to hand holding?

She loves when your thumb grazes her skin, when you rub it gently as you hold her hand

Then, the moment the door to her room closes behind the two of you, you already are pressed up against it

She loves kissing, and making out, especially the moment the two of you share a piece of privacy

With her arms around you or her hands on your hips or shoulders, her lips easily find yours

Often, this develops into more

Often, this develops into making out sessions

Often, this turns into hugs that develop into cuddling in the bed

Sexual loving

She gets in the mood often, and spontaneously

As such, you’ve known to recognize the clues and little details she gives off when in such moods

It’s very easy to tell when she’s in the mood; verbal, and non-verbal

This doesn’t differ between her moods, either

Whether dominant or submissive, it’s incredibly easy to tell when she is in the mood

When feeling dominant you can usually tell she gets in the mood for some loving by resting her hand on your thigh or back and squeezing slightly harder than necessary

Often, this is accompanied by a smirk and a glint in her eyes you learned to recognize perfectly well

At other times, she outright pulls you with her, her fingers wrapping around your wrist as she takes you to a more secluded area

Then, you are hers

When she is more on the submissive side, she is sometimes quite shy, while at others times behaves equally bold

For example, she might just shoot you dirty glances from across the room

Sometimes occupied by smirks and laughter, at other times by her tongue sliding across blood-stained lips

When feeling particularly bold, you sometimes catch her gesturing at you when no one’s looking, her tongue dragging between her index and middle finger, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes

Often, this means she’ll feel particularly bratty, you noticed

Of course, you’re eager to put her tongue and fingers to proper use, eager as she is to use them

And at other times, she likes to equally simply pull you along, demanding she has a problem and you need to “deal with it”

Then, she couldn’t care less what you’re up to

Whether mid conversation or out, she’ll pull you along and slide herself against your thigh the moment the door shuts behind you

With a sly smirk or small giggle, she’ll swarm out her clothes and all but tug at yours

Daniela

Non-sexual loving

Daniela is a very touchy, affectionate, loving, clingy, and sweet person

However, she expects just as much touching, affection, love, clinginess and sweetness in return

It’s uncommon for her to find herself in any mood that hasn’t got her wanting some loving, one type or another

And while she is often very clear about what she wants, outright asking; and of course assuming she will always get what she wants when she wants it; you still do well picking up some cues

You know, for example, Daniela is always in need of extra affection, comfort and above all; cuddles and kisses when the day’s been difficult

When she was yelled at by her sisters, scolded by her mother, disrespected by a maid (-that would not live for long after such an incident, though)

In those times you often find her swarming right onto your lap or in your arms, her cold nose tip bumping against your neck, her eyelashes wet from tears already

You know though- after a little while of your presence, she will be okay

She calms down fastest at head scratches and coos, you noticed

And still, Daniela is very clingy

Holding hands is almost a must to her

Whether at dinner, when working, when spending time together or when tending to hobbies, she likes to hold hands

Or at the very least stick to your side should your hands be occupied

Cuddling, of course, is a very popular way of showing affection and love to her, too

Especially when in bed, cuddling is important

She loves to sleep while being spooned, or wrapped up in one another’s arms

Adding head scratches and kisses to this mix has her flies buzz wildly even after she falls asleep

Of course, there are some more cues on how to tell when she wants some loving

This is usually a very adorable, trained pout placed at her lips

With big, wet puppy eyes on display, it’s hard to deny her anything. Love and affection, of all things

At other times, she might just outright grab onto your hand, eager to hold it

And lastly, at other times again, it’s common for her to whine and nudge you with her head a couple of times until you understand; it’s time for cuddles

Sexual loving

As in the non-sexual aspect, Daniela is very much of a sexual person, too

She loves having sex with you, fooling around, playing around, teasing

From making out to sex itself, she loves it all

As such, it is again not difficult to tell when she’s in the mood for this. Especially as the answer to this is; nearly always

But still, there are certain cues and little details to spot to help clarify whether she’s in the mood for some sexual loving or not

For example, your darling girlfriend can’t seem to sit still when she’s in such moods

Even less so, that is

She’ll squirm about in her chair, bed or while standing even, constantly pushing her thighs together and rolling her hips ever so slightly

It’s an adorable sight you like to indulge in whenever you feel like making her wait a little longer or playing stupid

Then, there’s the noises

Daniela whines, gasps, whimpers and moans incredibly easy in such moods

She’s much louder during kisses, shivers much faster, yearns for more by far faster than usual

When in public, Daniela is not at all shy to send you pleading looks across the room, often accompanied by whines or her famous puppy eyes

At other times, she might just walk past you with her fingertips sliding across your shoulders, claiming she’s either tired and wants to retreat to her room, or will be right back

Naturally, she expects you to follow. And you don’t miss her hints, certainly

But, there is a contrast to such adorable shyness, of course

Such as the times you sit at the dinner table, wondering where your lovely girlfriend is, only to find out very quick

Her fingertips grazing your inner thighs, her hair tickling you, her cold breath on you as she sits between your legs under the table

Somehow, she avoids being caught

Or perhaps simply no one wants to catch the precious youngest of the family

Silently, you’re thankful for this. After all, while Daniela would get away with a scolding, you imagine, you wouldn’t think it too unlikely Alcina Dimitrescu strikes you down on the spot for finding you in such a scene with her daughter

Lastly though, there are a few smaller cues to be on the lookout for

Such as her wandering hands and rolling hips when she sets herself on your lap

Or her bites having slightly more teeth and tongue to them than normal

Overall, you find reading her to be an easy task

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #concerned hydro anon

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 months

Text

The Prince of Hell is Not a Gentleman (F!Reader x M!Demon)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Male!Boss!Demon

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Non-Con, Forced Exhibitionism, Forced Infidelity, Abuse of Power and Work Dynamics, Degradation, Misogyny

Word count: 2815 words

Summary: You’ve tried your best to ignore the ridiculously inappropriate behavior of your boss, desperate to keep your job and knowing a filed complaint will get you nowhere. But one fateful meeting pushes your relationship to a whole new level

Request: I got a request!

Female human coworker with a scummy male demon boss. When I mean scummy I mean a proper PoS. Coercing her into sex when she is already with someone, smoking cigars and blowing it in her face, and making her call her partner while he is fucking her.

Isn’t workplace sexual harassment supposed to be subtle?

You think to yourself, simultaneously wondering how the fuck you got in the position to be thinking such a thing in the first place.

You’ve been to HR training, seen those types of creepy bosses. The ones who hide behind being overly “friendly” and saying “everyone’s so sensitive these days.” You’d known to report them, to not stand for their gaslighting.

But nothing really prepared you for this.

Sugartits, in my office ASAP.

The crude sticky note stuck to your computer monitor reads, sending your heart all the way into your gut.

You’ve only been at this job for two months, settling in nicely to the routine and your fat paycheck every two weeks. The only issue so far has been your boss.

The demon himself is named Solvaloth, AKA Sol, and is the supervisor for your entire department. He’s a high prince of hell that no one felt like dealing with down there, so was kicked upwards and saddled with a cushy position in this hell-associated company. He’s big, loud, and frustratingly handsome. The kind of handsome that has treated him well his entire life and in turn convinced him that he’s Lucifer’s favorite creation.

You’re the only human in this whole department and that novelty probably drew him your way in the first place. He quite literally cornered you on your first day, his clawed hands pressed against the wall behind you, a leering smile full of canines looking down at his new toy.

“Damn, it must be my lucky day.”

Since then, he has been the bane of your very existence. Grabbing your hips when he ever needs to “scoot” by, whispering dirty compliments in your ear, even looking down your blouse whenever he “pops” by your cubicle. Not to mention the patronizing nicknames.

“File these papers for me, won’t you sweet cheeks?”

“Looking good today, princess.”

“C’mon baby girl, give me a break here.”

Guess you can add Sugartits to the list.

You try not groan audibly as you trudge your way to his office. Knowing that no matter what he does, how inappropriate he is, HR will do nothing.

(You would know, you tried. The message of “don’t bring this up again” was made very clear.)

His door is stupid tall, meant to accommodate his giant size and extra large horns. You open it as slow as possible, trying your best to delay this ‘meeting.’

“You know how to keep a demon waiting, honey.” Sol turns around in his opulent office chair, legs spread wide and head thrown back without a care. His hair hangs loose and wild behind him, a white mane tucked in between two curving horns. Despite the snarky tone, he’s got a sickeningly sweet grin on his face. “Lock the door, please. We’re gonna need privacy.”

Ugh, I cannot deal with this today.

But you comply, flipping the lock. You don’t notice the way his curtains have been drawn, or how everyone else has been encouraged to go on a long lunch.

“Is everything okay?”

Sol leans forward, that smug grin still on his face. He puts a hand up to his ear, batting his eyes in a cartoonish display of “what was that?”

You sigh.

“Is everything okay, sir?”

“That's my girl.” Sol laughs, slapping his knee and gesturing for you to sit down.

You pull back your chair, keeping your ankles crossed. You curse yourself for wearing a pencil skirt today, chiding morning-you for forgetting where you work. Sol’s eyes burn as they roll up your pantyhose, not even trying to hide his leering.

“Actually, everything’s not okay.”

That has you sitting up, a seed of worry in your gut. As much as he sucks, this job pays really fucking well, and you can’t risk loosing it.

“You see, I overhead Mazey in accounting gossiping over the water cooler. Said something about how the human has a new boy-toy.” Sol crosses his arms across the table, making his large chest seem even bigger.“That true?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he called you in for that.

“Not that it’s anyone’s business, but yes. I am seeing someone.”

A nice human guy you met at a bookstore, named Rich. He was cute, with fluffy hair and a sweet smile. You had only been on a couple dates, nothing exclusive yet, but you saw a potential future with him.

Sol clicks his teeths, his eyebrows furrowing as that smug grin drops down to a disappointed pout.

“That’s gonna be a little problem, because last I checked-” Sol gestures back and forth between you two, “-I’m your boss.”

You raise a brow. “So?”

“As your boss, I kind of get final say in everything. I mean, everything.” Sol leans even farther forward, gut pressed into his desk. He’s so close you can feel his breath, see the way his hair falls from behind his pointed ears. “That includes who you spread those little legs for, capische?”

A hot blush runs up your neck, a combination of shock and anger shot through you like adrenaline.

You had kept a stiff upper lip for most of his shenanigans, for his stupid ego and this job, but this? This was crossing a line.

“That is not-”

“You want to keep your job?”

In just a sentence he steals the thunder out of your voice, a vice grip clutching around

your heart.

“You wouldn’t.”

Sol shrugs, eyes rolling.

“Why not? Can’t have a little slut like you distracted all day, thinking about some human.”

He says the word like a curse, practically spitting it.

“This, this isn’t-” Your lost momentum has you floundering, trying to find ground to stand on. But you’re trapped; You know it, and he knows it.

You take a deep breath, trying to reel in the desire to leap across the desk and strangle him.

“What do you want.” You state, not ask.

His lips curl up, his devilish nature on full display.

“I want you to do what you were always meant to do.” Sol leans back, tapping his chin. “You’re gonna plant that pretty pussy on my face, and let me show you a good time.”

Your ears feel hot, tears bubbling at the corner of your eyes. There's a distinct taste of shame in your mouth.

But you can’t lose this job. Can’t be blacklisted in the industry, which this spiteful bastard probably would do to get back at you.

So you sit up, kick off your heels, and ignore the way Sol licks his lips.

Your thumbs go down under the waistband of your skirt, before Sol stops you.

“No, keep it on.”

You stop, wondering what his plan is, and tepidly walk towards him.

Sol’s eyes elevate up and down, switching the knob on his chair to recline slightly. He pats his chin again, a long tongue poking out between his teeth.

“That’s right, baby. Come to papa.”

You hate the way the curdles your stomach, the way your legs begin to shake.

Just to be an asshole, Sol does nothing to help you climb up his chest. He sits with his arms crossed behind his head, smug as you struggle up his body.

Your skirt begins to naturally hike up as you shimmy, almost to your underwear by the time your legs are around Sol’s shoulders. You have to lean your hands in the walk behind his head to stay stable, a deliberate placement that forces your crotch right in his face.

With your legs slotted around his neck Sol's hands find their place in your ass, yanking you forward and taking a deep whiff of your pussy. A wet tongue follows it soon after, soaking the thin fabric and rubbing dangerously against your clit. You bite your lip, feeling the skin almost burst under teeth and pressure. He’s already humiliated you enough, Sol is not getting noises out of you.

Sol is ravenous, his sharp canines deftly tearing apart the fabric of your tights and panties, just missing the fat of your thighs on their way in. He has no patience once he reaches his prize, thick tongue shoved in with little preparation. Your hands scratch at the cheap company paint of the wall behind you, still refusing to let a peep out. Even as your body betrays your mind and your pussy begins to slicken.

Your eyes can’t help but wander downward, a jolt shooting up your spine when you realize Sol is looking directly at you. His nostrils flare as your eyes meet, his tongue curling and stretching open your walls. He must see the way your brow scrunches, how flushed your face is getting. There's a look of pride in his eyes that makes you burn.

Sol nuzzles his nose, digging his tongue deeper inside and you hate the way it rubs against your clit and makes your toes curl. It sucks how good he is at this, how your legs are beginning to tremble not from fear but from pressure. You’ve been able to stay quiet so far, but the moans are fighting towards the surface with every sultry lick.

You know you’re in trouble when one of his hands sneaks from your ass and over your thigh, Sol’s thumb coming to rub and flick at your clit. A moan crawls up your throat and you try to choke it down with another bite of your lip. But your legs clench around Sol’s head, your hips chasing the friction as he pulls you taught like a bow string.

Damnit, it had given you a sort of satisfaction to assume he was one of those guys who was all talk, no action. A dirty mouth that probably never went down, never brought his partners pleasure. This is just another slap in the face.

“Hmmph!” Your hand throws across your mouth, hunching forward as Sol finds that sensitive spot inside. Electricity shocks across your abdomen.

Please, no.

Sol is relentless in his chases, spurred on by your noise and fucks his tongue like a piston against your g-spot.

Too good, too good. I’m gonna-

“Angh~!” Your back arches, breath finally escaping as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You refuse to look down, refuse to see the satisfied look on the bastards face.

But you never get a chance, as Sol hooks his strong arms around your legs and picks you up like a ragdoll. With a surprising gentleness he is able to sling you down his abdomen, turn you around to your stomach and pinned to his desk. Your skirt stays bunched around your hips, the slutty hole in your stockings ripped wider by fervent claws.

“Hey, kitty kitty~” Sol coos, fingers spreading your pussy’s lips wide open for him. “I knew you’ve a nice cunt, baby. Knew it right when I saw you.” Sol slaps your pussy, chuckling when you flinch. “Perfect for daddy.”

A hot head presses against your entrance and you know immediately that he is too big for you.

And he has a big dick?! What the fuck?!

“Wait, Sol-”

“Waited long enough, sugar tits.” The head presses deeper, the stretch cutting any words right out of your mouth. “Let’s fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Sol plunges in, aided by your slick and a fresh glob of spit. The dam being broken, your humiliation at its peak, you don’t try to hide your gasping breathes.

“Fuck!” Your shout, hips traitorously swinging backwards, urging him deeper into your guts. There's a deep groan from Sol’s chest and the scratching of hardwood. A glance to your side sees his claws have dug lines into his fine desk.

“S-shit. You’re fucking tight.” Sol gives an experimental thrust, the desk and bouncing forward. “That little boy toy of yours must have a pencil dick or something.” A large hand grabs your jaw, forcing your back to arch as he pulls you back to him. “Or has he not fucked you yet?”

You don’t dignify him with a response. Sol clicks his teeth.

“Whelp, I guess we’ll have to ask him.”

That jolts you awake, eyes widening as you realize Sol’s slipped your phone out of your skirt's pocket. The home screen is in front of you, your face unlocking it with ease. That fight instinct comes back and you begin squirming.

“Ah, ah.” Sol needs only one hand to pin you down, back on your stomach now that he’s on your phone. “What’d Mazey say his name was, Richie?” Sol casually scrolls through your contacts, humming as he spots Rich’s contact, with an emoji heart next to it. “There he is. Let’s give him a call, clear this up.”

You squeak in exertion, trying your damnedest to wiggle away and escape. But Sol’s grip is like iron, and Rich answers on the second ring.

“Hey there, what’s up?”

Sol leans down to look at you, tapping the speaker option, and makes a motion for you to talk.

“N-nothing much. Just-” Sol gives another hump, the desk legs squeaking against the linoleum. “-just thinking about you.”

You hate how Rich’s ‘aww’ is tainted by Sol, tainted by the noise of his hips slamming against your backside. You pray Rich’s phone has shitty audio, that he’s totally oblivious today. That he overhears the slapping of skin and the shaking of the desk to be some weird aspect of your demon company, and not what it really is.

“Thinking about you a lot too.” Richie says, and you try to dim the breathy moan that gets through. Sol’s nails dig into your hips, yanking you like a fleshlight. “Wanna meet up this weekend?” Sol slams a hand down, clawing a NO into the hardwood. Rich tone switches to concern. “Woah, what was that?”

“S-sorry, dropped a stapler, heh.” You throw your head down, chest heaving as another knot pulls in your stomach. Your words are beginning to feel foggy, your brain fuzzy as Sol finds your g-spot and starts brutalizing it with his cock. “Can’t this weekend unfortunately. Got some extra w-work to do.”

“Damn, wish I could help.”

Sol barely muffles his chuckles, patting your ass as he leans forward, whispering filth in your ear.

“Cum around my cock, baby~ I know you want to.”

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks as you nuzzle your face into the desk. Sol laughs into your neck, his cock twitching at your frustration.

“Well, I gotta get back to w-work. Just wanted to-” You suck in a deep breath. “-hear your voice.”

“I love hearing your voice too, babe.”

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his tongue, imagining his sweet face. Wishing it was him behind you right now, making you feel this good.

“Ok, see you later.” Your voice whines as a shaky hand taps the phone to off, making sure you’ve hung up before collapsing back into the desk.

Sol cackles behind you, hips swiveling.

“Sounds like a fucking loser. I guess I was right.” Sol’s tongue licks up the side of your cheek. “If he had fucked you, he wouldn’t be calling you ‘babe’.” Sol pitched his voice up high, mockingly, before pulling back his teeth in a snarl. “He’d be calling you whore.”

Sol yanks on your hair, baring your neck and sucking huge hickies right below your jaw. His hips begin to stutter, the balls slapping against your clit feeling tight as he exhales through his nose.

“Please…not inside.”

“I know you’re on birth control, bitch. I do what I want.”

Sol detached with wet lips from your neck, hand now on the back of your skull and forcing you down to the cool desk surface. Your breath leaves a foggy trail in its wake, your eyes rolling back as Sol reaches a peak in his intensity.

“Fuck, fuck!” Sol cries, claws digging lines into your skin as he begins to jerk and twitch. Soon after you feel a heavy warmth shoot deep inside of you, rivulets of cum dripping out between your two bodies and on to the desk.

There's a distinct feeling of emptiness in your gut when Sol pulls out, even with the sticky strings of semen stuck in between you. A thick finger pushes back in any lealing cum, Sol’s cooing voice admiring your fucked out pussy.

You can hardly think, your brain caught in a self-defensive haze as you just try to catch your breath. If you think you’ll hear Rich’s voice, have to feel the intense shame burning inside your chest, feel the red hot anger that you’re too tired to act on.

A warm hand caresses your face, pushing messy hair out of the way. Somewhere distant, Sol chuckles. “Yeah, just like I thought.” You hear the brief click of a camera. “Such a perfect cock-slut, all for me.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster romance #monster/human #requests #female reader insert #monster x reader

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