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ollieofthebeholder · 1 month

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to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 104: March 2018

Daisy never thought she would be thankful for friends. Actually, she never thought she would have friends to be thankful for; closest thing she ever had anymore was a partner. And truthfully, she still wasn’t sure she could honestly call the Archives crew her friends. But Jon had actually climbed into the pit to find her, Tim had hugged her and welcomed her back, and Martin had made up a bed for her in the Archives without question, or even really asking her if she needed it, like he knew she did but that she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to ask for it. Sasha had lent her some spare clothes, then gone to get her some of her own, and while Melanie was the most wary and distrustful out of all of them, she had placed an enormous orange and white cat on her lap, which had promptly curled up and gone to sleep, and which Jon said was a pretty big peace offering. Even Gerard had told her to call him Gerry, although she hadn’t quite taken him up on that yet; she was still getting used to not calling all of them by their surnames. If they weren’t friends, they were the nearest thing she’d had in a long time.

Probably what surprised her the most, actually, was Martin telling her, bit offhanded, that she could keep calling him “Blackwood” if she liked. She’d brushed him off at the time, but that night while she’d been lying on the makeshift bed they’d made up for her, staring in the direction of the ceiling and listening to the others breathe around her, the realization of what he’d actually meant had hit her like a ton of bricks. Daisy had spent most of her adult life in one police station or another, and while people didn’t often get to be friends, you knew you’d got respect from the people around you when they dropped the job titles and just started calling you by your surname. Basira was the only one who’d ever insisted on going on a first-name basis with her, but they were partners, the first one she’d ever had for more than six months, so that made sense. There in the dark of the Archives, Daisy had almost started crying, for the first time in years, because someone she’d actively been planning to kill less than a year ago had been kind without making a big deal of it and offered to let her relate to them on her own terms rather than making her relate on theirs.

He’d been the easiest to start calling by first name.

She wasn’t a cop anymore. Even if she hadn’t more or less been declared dead, she didn’t feel like a cop anymore. She’d never joined to make a difference or help people—that was bullshit, anyone who said they’d joined for that was either lying or hopelessly naive. Daisy had joined to hunt down “bad guys”, but it had been about the hunt, not about the bad guys; she’d never particularly cared why she was after someone, only with actually going after them, and the longer she’d been on the force the more it had been about hunting the people and justifying why after. She knew now that that had been a powerful fear entity or god or…whatever it was, but she also knew that it hadn’t come from nowhere, that it had moved in to justify a whole lot of bad things. Tempting as it was to blame the way she’d been on the blood—the Hunt, the others called it—she knew she couldn’t. All it had done was give her an edge in what she’d wanted to do anyway.

But now it was gone. Well, not gone; she could still hear it on the edges if she let herself, and once she started letting herself hear it, it got a lot closer than that. It was one of the reasons she didn’t like being alone these days, the other being the endless months of isolation underground; when there weren’t other people around to focus on, the surging blood and choking mud competed for her attention. She didn’t want it back, though, that was the thing. It had been all she’d known for so long that she’d forgotten what she was like without it, but she wanted to learn.

She just needed to stop the shaking first.

Daisy’d seen her fair share of people coming down from highs and hangovers or going through withdrawal as they detoxed, so she knew what it looked like. She knew, too, how easy it was to nudge someone into breaking sobriety, even pushed a few over the edge so she could arrest them. Cut off enough avenues to go straight and the most well-intentioned ex-junkie would be right back at it. It shamed her, now, how many people she’d done that to, how many people would be productive members of society today if she hadn’t toyed with them. If this were a traditional detox, one of those twelve step program things, she’d have a long list of people for that eighth step.

Her mum had done it, she remembered. Or tried to, anyway. Couldn’t quite remember if it had been drugs or alcohol or both, she’d been a kid at the time, young enough that she was still Alice, but she vaguely remembered something about a car accident and an injured kid, and her grandfather saying something about how lucky she was the judge had given her a chance to get sober instead of throwing her in jail for the rest of her life. And to her credit, she’d tried. Made it more than halfway through the steps, even. But then she’d hit the stage where she was supposed to ask forgiveness, and she’d hit a wall. She’d ranted well into the night about how she’d done everything right, everything they asked her to, and still no one would accept her apologies, no one would forgive her. In the end, it had been too much, and she’d fallen off the wagon…and a rooftop.

Daisy had been Daisy by then, and old enough to be cynical. She’d decided apologizing was for weaklings, that nobody would forgive you no matter what you did, so it was better to just do things and live your life without worrying what other people thought of it. It hadn’t been until fairly recently that she’d even started thinking differently. Being buried with loads of time to think had started it, but a couple weeks back, just out of curiosity, she’d looked up the twelve steps. Most of it was bullshit—Daisy had never believed in a benevolent God and sure as hell hadn’t experienced anything in the last few years that would change her mind—but it was the ninth step, the one her mum had stumbled over, that had caught her attention. It referred back to the list you were supposed to have made of the people you’d hurt while you were in the throes of your addiction: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

Make amends. Not ask forgiveness. In fact, forgiveness wasn’t mentioned once in any of the steps. Which made sense, Daisy guessed. Recovery was supposed to be about you, not about other people. You recovered by fixing what you’d done wrong, not by asking other people to let it go.

What was it Martin had said when she was interviewing him—interrogating him really—after the old man’s murder…had it only been a year ago? We both need to learn how to do it on our own terms or it’s never going to stick. She hadn’t really known what he was talking about then, but she sure as hell did now. Martin was right.

Only she hadn’t learned, and now the person she’d been relying on was somewhere she couldn’t get at her, and Daisy was afraid. Afraid she’d missed her only chance to get right. Afraid of what she was becoming, could become, might not be able to stop herself from being. Afraid there wasn’t anything to her other than the Hunt. Afraid the only way out of this was death.

Afraid she would never see Basira while she was her own woman again.

She’d spent most of the first week roaming the Institute looking for Basira, after Tim had come back down from her office perplexed and worried and said he couldn’t seem to find her. Daisy had been sure she would have better luck—after all, she knew Basira better, and surely Basira would want to see her—but it hadn’t happened and she’d had a little bit of an internal breakdown over it. Martin had finally been the one to find her, but he hadn’t been very encouraging or forthcoming about it, had only said that he let her know Daisy was back. Daisy had tried again, not as often but at least every other day, since that point, and had been increasingly more distressed and heartbroken that she kept avoiding her.

But Tim had come in that morning and said, rather cryptically, that he thought she might have better luck today, and Martin had given her a few tips, and the long and the short of it was that here she was, lurking in a back corridor and waiting.

She closed her eyes and tried to follow Martin’s instructions: to focus on the moments with Basira that had made them close. Riding together in the patrol car. Going out for drinks. Their official Section Thirty-One case prior to the Institute. The lift to Basira’s chin, the pride on her face, when Daisy got promoted to CID. The smirk and the roll of her eyes when Daisy tried to get her to listen to the Archers with her. The first time she’d come over to Daisy’s flat and taken her headscarf off. She didn’t really want to, but she made herself add the moment in the clearing when Basira had stopped her from outright murdering Jon—the moment Basira had given up on walking away from all this bullshit and sacrificed herself for Daisy’s sake. There would have been no going back for her if she’d killed Jon in that moment, and somehow, Basira had known, had saved her. Daisy had to do the same.

Wait. Were those footsteps?

Something in Daisy’s chest warmed, ever so slightly, the way it always did when Basira was nearby. She drew in a quick breath, let it out in a slow, silent exhale, and stepped out into the corridor.

“Hey,” she said.

Basira stood in front of her, stock still, her expression totally flat and emotionless—she’d always been good at that blank, give-nothing-away stare, it made her a real pain in the ass to play poker with. Daisy, for her part, was shocked, and it probably showed on her face. Basira looked…desaturated was the only word she could come up with. Washed out. Like someone had applied a video filter to her that flipped her warm undertones to cool ones and lowered the contrast. Her eyes had gone dull, her skin had gone slightly ashen, and her hair had lost all its luster. That was the biggest shock—Daisy could see her hair. Or what was left of it, anyway. She’d hacked it into an Eton crop, short above her ears and slicked flat against her head, and she wasn’t wearing her headscarf. It wasn’t even hanging around her neck like it usually did when she pushed it back while they were relaxing; there was no sign of it anywhere. She wore the world’s most boring and inoffensive black pant suit and a pair of ballet flats that even Daisy could tell would barely make a sound under ordinary circumstances. How she’d heard her coming was anybody’s guess.

Maybe it was just that she’d wanted to hear her so badly.

“Daisy. Hi,” Basira said, her voice as flat and noncommittal as her face.

Daisy wrapped her arms around her chest, a bit self-consciously. A year ago she’d have been furious with herself for feeling this way, but…well, maybe she deserved it. “I…I haven’t seen you.”

“Yeah. Been busy.” Basira’s tone of voice never changed.

Which was fair, Daisy supposed. “Yeah, uh…working for Peter Lukas, right? That’s what…that’s what the others said.”

Basira shrugged. “Something like that, yeah.”

This conversation was like pulling teeth. Talking to Basira had never been so hard before. Daisy pushed ahead. “Are you…how have you been?”

“Fine. Busy,” Basira repeated. “Lots to do. Look, I’ve got to go.”

“W-wait.” Daisy took a hesitant step towards Basira. She wasn’t a small woman—at least she wasn’t short, she’d lost weight and muscle being buried but she was still six feet tall—but she felt shrunken, and Basira…well, Basira wasn’t exactly standing tall and proud, but she seemed somehow above Daisy. “I—I missed you, partner.”

“We’re not partners.” The words cut across the space like the throwing knives that were probably still locked in Daisy’s car, wherever it was. “Not anymore. We’re not even colleagues.” Basira took a step to the side, very pointedly. “I have to go.”

Something akin to panic was starting to rise in Daisy’s words. Basira didn’t sound cold. Daisy could have dealt with cold, cruel, any of it. She just sounded…flat. Neutral. She wasn’t trying to be hurtful, she was just stating a fact. They weren’t partners, they weren’t colleagues, they weren’t anything. Simple, logical fact.

“We used to be,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm and under control, but the shaking was obvious. “Look—I’m not, I won’t get in your way, I just…missed you. I, I wanted to see for myself you were okay.”

Basira shrugged. “You can see that I am.”

“You’re—” She wasn’t okay. She was so obviously not okay. Daisy struggled to explain it. Finally, she just gestured at Basira’s head helplessly. “Your scarf?”

“Don’t need it. Who is there to care?” Basira twisted slightly to slip past Daisy and continue down the corridor. “Good to see you again, Daisy.”

“Basira—” Daisy began desperately, turning to follow her, and then stopped. The corridor was empty. The tiny flicker of warmth in her chest was gone. Basira had vanished.

Daisy stood alone in the empty corridor, staring at the spot where Basira should have been, her thoughts whirling in a thousand different directions. She’d asked Basira once, after she’d taken her truncheon to the skull of a bastard who’d called her a particularly vile slur, why she still wore the headscarf if she wasn’t religious; that had been one of the first things they’d learned about each other, back when they were still PCs Tonner and Hussain, that they were both atheists, and Daisy just hadn’t ever asked about the scarf until then. Basira had stared out the window of the patrol car for a few minutes, then admitted it was for her dad.

He was a real man of faith, my dad, she’d said quietly. Real big on the teachings of Allah and Muhammad and the lot of it. All that sort of thing was important to him. I don’t worry about most of it, like the praying and the not drinking and all that, but the whole thing about keeping part of yourself hidden and secret except around people who really deserve it…yeah, I’ll do that for him.

Daisy’s dad had been murdered when she was young, and her grandparents had both died when their house burned down inexplicably not long after she got her first Section Thirty-One, so she’d empathized with Basira for losing her own dad, assuming that, like Daisy, she was alone in the world. It hadn’t been until a lot later when she’d been on a totally unrelated case and met a young woman with Basira’s eyes who’d turned out to be her baby sister that she’d learned Basira actually had an enormous, sprawling family spread out over the greater London area, she just wasn’t in contact with any of them—Fariha al-Amin had been shocked to learn Basira was a cop. It was Basira’s choice…she thought…but it was still a bit of a shock to learn that she didn’t have to be alone. Or that her scarf didn’t have to be her last connection to the father she’d obviously loved.

Who is there to care? Well, statistically, a lot of people; it wasn’t very likely Basira’s entire family was gone now, and they’d all seemed pretty religious, so they’d be scandalized and heartbroken if they found out she was discarding the last of her outward signs of faith. They probably thought about her and prayed for her anyway, even if she didn’t acknowledge them or think there was anything listening to those prayers. But also…Basira cared. It was why she’d worn it in the first place. If she’d stopped caring…

If she’d stopped caring, then she was losing herself, too.

Daisy shivered. The blood sang to her, tempting her, telling her that it would give her the edge she needed, oh yes, let her sense, let her scent, help her to find Basira again and force her to stay, if only she would just let it…and on the other side was the rattle of falling dirt and the gurgle of rising mud and the choking, suffocating coldness and the pressure, the pressing on all sides, the feeling of being down, of being trapped, there isn’t even an up…

“Daisy, breathe.”

Martin’s voice cut through the voices and the pressure and she took a deep breath, then another. Some of the tightness eased back and she looked up to see Martin, his face creased in concern, standing a few feet away and holding out his hand—not touching her, just waiting for her. “Come on. Let’s head back down to the Archives, yeah?”

Slowly, hesitantly, Daisy reached out and took Martin’s outstretched hand. She winced at the rough, mottled feel of the burn scar, but she let him guide her back to the main part of the Institute, down the three flights of stairs, and into the Archives. Once there, he simply ushered her straight into his office and handed her a cup of tea that was still warm. She wrapped both hands around it and tried not to shake.

Martin picked up another mug of tea and sat behind his desk, looking up at her seriously. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Daisy said, her voice rough. “She’s…she’s not okay. She said she was, but…”

“I know. The Lonely has her pretty bad.” Martin sighed heavily. “I wish there was something I could do to get her out.”

“Can’t you?” Daisy meant it to sound challenging, but it just sounded plaintive.

Martin shook his head regretfully. “Not yet. Not without understanding what she’s doing for Peter Lukas. I can’t See how tightly she’s bound to it, so I don’t know if I can rip her away from it without hurting her. And honestly, if you couldn’t get her to step out of it, I doubt I could right now. Not without breaking something beyond repair.” He studied her seriously. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Daisy did. She really, really did. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Can…can we do it on one of your tape recorders?”

Martin’s expression softened. He nodded. “Yeah, Daisy. We can absolutely do that.”

#ollie writes fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#tma fanfic #the magnus archives #daisy tonner #basira hussain #martin blackwood #isolation #mention of being buried alive #implied/referenced police brutality #addiction #twelve-step programs #mention of death #mention of fire #religion #depression #temptation

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ignorantsanonymous · 6 months

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The Tragedy Prayer

"Let us offer up a prayer to those who have perished in this nightmarish act of cruelty today.

And I remind you all, once again, that we pray not to God, but to ourselves; to sharpen our minds and to focus our wills.

Our Power, which burns within Us, exquisite be Our Might.

Our Kingdom come, Our Will be done, on Earth as it is within Us.

Give Us this day our fondest wish, and improve ever upon Us, as we strive ever to improve Ourselves.

And lead Us not into corruption or malaise, but give Us strength to persist in the face of adversity.

Lives have been taken needlessly from Us by a loathsome lost soul on a mission of evil.

May the sickness of this rotten death-urge vacate Our collective Being.

May the exploiters of tragedy find that their words turn to shit in their mouths.

May the deniers of tragedy find that they are denied mercy until they repent.

May the cruelty of this world be alleviated by the love and fellowship and brotherhood and sisterhood and siblinghood that We may find in Ourselves.

To love One Another and to serve One Another and to serve those that love Us.

And may Those whose souls are on this day scorched with pain and anguish find Their way to the balm of kindness.

Let Those who have been so darkly touched by the worst of humanity see now the best of it.

And may Our differences be cast aside, and all the bullshit cut through, until all that is left is the truth.

Let it be so."

-TJ Kirk (May 2022)

#In May of 2022 TJ posted a video discussing the tragedy and politics of the school shooting in Uvalde Texas of the United States #And he ended that video with this prayer #I omitted one word-- the word twenty-one-- the number of lives that were lost in Uvalde that day #because I plan on reblogging this every time a mass shooting happens in this country #I even added the first part to the description of this blog as a general prayer #This channel's name-- Ignorants Anonymous-- is of course a parody of the support groups #the ones that are supposed to aid those with addictions #and those support groups rely heavily on the christian religion as an anchor to help guide their members #though nowadays they try to be more inclusive--as long as you have an entity or concept you hold higher than yourself then #the twelve step program can still apply #along with the name I also wanted to similarly parody the religious aspect of the support group #kind of like how satanists parody abrahamic religions with the name of those religions' opposer #while ironically holding themselves to the message of peace and love preached by those texts than the actual followers of those religions d #You do not have to be atheist to follow this blog or to get use out of it but #I find that the words of TJ Kirk-- The Amazing Atheist-- do a better job at representing the theme of this blog than I ever could #i hope he never discovers this blog personally but if he does i hope he at least approves of my use of his expressions #prayer #tj kirk #the amazing atheist #amazing atheist #terroja kincaid #YouTube

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yorshie · 10 months

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hi im obsessed with the way u write the bayverse turtles, do u have any more little one shots or wips? ◡̈

Hi anon! 👋

I’m actually participating in a little wip game right now, I’ve decided to play it until Next Monday, the tenth of July. The rules were you can send in a question regarding a wip and I’ll tell you something about it.

Some of these are NSFW but I’ll answer them in a PG way.

The list was

Bayverse/rise tmnt

Medic Soldier Rex Ch 4

Gloaming (bayverse leo x third person)

A day in the lair (bayverse turtles x reader)

Time with Angelo (bayverse mikey x third person)

El dorado - bayverse turtles x reader

Darker than dark - bayverse raph x ofc

MSR one shot titled ROUS

Winnifred

Appy slices part 3 - sorry I forgot about it the first list

Don Don music fic - aaaand I forgot about this one too

And because I technically have “some” red dead WIPs as well that I don’t mind people asking about

Outlaws from The West - landmine territory

Bury My Hart - poly ArthurxJohnxWinnie

He sings to me so low - ghastly serenade part 3

A hunger on this Land - vengeance in my heart second part

Under the Light of a Full Moon - Arthur x Winnie

Somewhere in the Woods - Arthur x ofc (dovetail)

Rodeo Queen - Arthur x ofc

muscle car AU (yea- this one was fueled by fast and furious I can even lie)

Now the ones that are colored red have already been asked about. Just search for the “ask me about my dum dum writing” tag on my blog.

There’s also a few snippets floating around that you can find in my master post, though only one of them is bayverse.

And now everyone can see my WIP collecting problem.

#anon asks #ask me about my dum dum writing #I need a twelve step program #ask away!

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letmeliedown · 1 year

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having thoughts difficult to articulate about how having trauma as a big factor in your sexuality leaves you really vulnerable to neopuritans who want to convince you that the only ideologically pure way to live is to be sex-repulsed and celibate and stamp out every shadow of sexual desire within yourself, and who will treat you like a dangerous predator if you ever fail in that

#from twelve step programs to ace tumblr #there are many ways this can happen

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terracegallery · 1 year

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Serenity Prayer...

I felt like this white iris was the perfect backdrop for The Serenity Prayer. Irises are my favorite flower! GET IT HERE.

View On WordPress

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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 9 months

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Hold Me Down (Is This A New Start?) - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After a long, hard day of work you just want to go home and go to bed. But, when you get a persistent knock on your door from Rafe fucking Cameron. you know you’re gonna have a long night ahead. Letting him in, after two months of not seeing him, you fully anticipated a screaming match. But, you got something much different than you bargained for—much better too.

CW/TWs: brief angst, brief mentions of Rafe being on house arrest lol, feminine pronouns used, gorgeous/sweet girl/baby/darlin' as nicknames, toxic behavior, canon-adjacent Rafe, mean-ish Rafe, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male receiving), impact play, (not really) lowkey daddy kink, brat reader, dumbification, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play, unprotected sex (be safe I am nawt your mom gn), allusions to a pain kink for sure, mushy gushy sweet ending, not highly edited or reviewed

Words: 8.1k+

Note: 18+ MDNI, really just fucking don’t. I wrote this one in first person because writing in second person irritates my very soul. Uhhhh so this kinda came out of left field and I did nawt plan on writing this but here we are! But such is life! Anyways…back to regularly scheduled programming.

It had been a long day - too long. There was something exceedingly exhausting about living paycheck to paycheck that the average person didn’t understand. There was nothing quite as specific as the exhaustion that you encountered by overworking yourself day after day, week after week, month after month, all for nothing. Because that’s what this all amounted to. Nothing. Nothing extra at the end of the week to take home, nothing to do anything nice with. Just nothing. And nothing sucked the joy out of your day like knowing you’d have to get up the next day and do it all over again.

When I’d finally gotten home from a shift that didn’t end until almost the crack of fucking dawn - a good twelve hours after I was supposed to have gotten off shift - there was not a thing I wanted more than to sleep. Still, even as I sat on my fucking couch, my woes could not end. There was a loud, demanding knock on the door.

The first time I ignored it.

The second time I ignored it.

The third time, an annoyed voice accompanied the knock.

“Baby, open the fucking door,” came the snarl from the other side. I groaned and ran my hands down my face. I really didn’t want to deal with Rafe today. Not like that had ever deterred him before. “Baby, come on. Listen. Please. The cops are fucking trolling around outside. Baby, please open the door.”

I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, opening the apartment door. Standing there, looking at pitiful as ever was Rafe fucking Cameron. The bane of my existence. My more-or-less on-again-off-again boyfriend—though I’d sooner bash my head against the door than admit that. I glared at the ass who had done nothing but make my life harder since he’d entered it. Then, I stepped to the side and let him in. He stepped in and closed the door quickly, locking it behind him. He turned to me and pressed an absent-minded kiss to my forehead before going to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit, darlin’,” he said. When he even had the decency to look up and notice I was there.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked down at his leg. His ankle monitor looked fucked. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Just a little mod,” he said casually. “I needed to get out for a minute.”

“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Did you stash more fucking coke in my house I swear to fucking God I will kill you. I am not catching a fucking charge for you, asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I leave my coke with you knowing that you’d throw it out, baby? That’s just bad business. Besides, darlin’ the cops aren’t outside for me some loser is probably getting caught selling a few doors down again. And hey? It’s a crime to want to see you now, darlin’?” he asked, winking.

“No. But it is a crime to skip out on house arrest, Rafe,” I said blandly. “And I know damn well that you’re not here because you want to see me. I’m just convenient to you like fucking always.”

He rolled his eyes as if I were being the dramatic one. “What’s wrong now, gorgeous?” he drawled. “Always seems like there’s something these days, hmm?”

I clenched my jaw. “Fuck you, Rafe. Get the hell out,” I snapped.

Rafe frowned. Stood again and walked over to me. He placed his hands on my hips, refusing to leave. I, in turn, refused to look at him. “Look at me, darlin’,” he demanded. Reluctantly I did. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer. He brushed my hair back from my face and just kept looking at me. “Come on, sweet girl. Tell me…what’s wrong.” He smiled to himself when I still didn’t answer. “You know better than anyone I’m not going to leave until you tell me, baby…so come on…what’s wrong with my sweet girl?”

“Fuck you,” I repeated weakly, pulling out of his arms. I plopped down on my couch, curling into myself and closing my eyes. “Just fucking leave when you see the cops are gone. I can’t be bothered today.” The asshole had the audacity to laugh at my words. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe.”

Dramatically, Rafe sighed and knelt down on the ground in front of me. I felt him grab my knees and pull me to face him. I had no choice but to unfurl, otherwise, I would’ve fallen into him, which I had no interest in doing. So, I leaned back into the couch, trying to ignore the heat of his hand sinking into my cold legs through worn jeans. It was hard to ignore that. Hard to ignore any of him, really. And he knew that. That’s why he only waited through my stubborn silence for a few minutes.

“Come on, baby,” he hummed. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry I’m a dick, darlin’…you know I care.”

I laughed weakly, eyes still closed. “No. No, you don’t,” I said flatly.

He ignored my words and kept rubbing my legs. “It’s so fucking cold in here, baby,” he commented. “And your legs are freezing. Your heat not working?”

“No, it's working. It’s just too fucking expensive to heat this shitty goddamn apartment and I’m not forking over more money to the cunt landlord,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “Did you suddenly forget what life is like if—” I cut myself off, shaking my head.

He had the audacity to glare back if you could believe it. Then, he slapped my inner thigh. “I told you to call me if you needed help,” he hissed. He slapped my other thigh. “The fuck are you doing? What game are you playing at, baby?”

I pushed him away from me with my foot. “A game where I don’t need to rely on a man who is a fucking wannabe felon,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “Newsflash, baby, you do need me,” he said, sounding way too smug about it.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I need a bullet to the brain more than I need you,” I sneered.

“That’s cute.” He continued on like I didn’t even speak in the first place. “I could give you that, if you want. But that doesn’t change anything about it, darlin’. You need my money, you need my cock, you need my love. You’ve said it yourself that no one gives it to you as good as I do. And I know you haven’t been looking which means you’re still as invested in this as I am. So.” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “When I tell you if you need my fucking money to heat your stupid apartment because your ass is too stubborn to move in with me…then you fucking call me.”

“You are not my fucking father,” I snapped, pulling out of his tough.. “Like I said. Bullet to the fucking brain before this shit anymore. I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t know. You do call me daddy a lot,” he mocked. He smiled down at me, but there was hardly any warmth to it. “But, oh? You’re so sick of it, hmm? You want to be brainless?” He laughed. “Well, I can make you brainless without having to put a hole in your pretty little head.” He wound his hand tightly in my hair, pulling my face towards his while I sharply inhaled. “And you’ll remember exactly why you’re not done with me, gorgeous.”

I glared at him. “I haven’t seen you in two months. The last time I did see you, you called me a stupid, worthless cunt and told me that you never wanted to see me again. And you think you can just show up here and get me to listen to you?” I demanded. I felt my face heating with my frustration. “Just like that? You think you’re…you think you’re worth me listening to?” I laughed. “Like I said. Fuck you, Rafe. I deserve…I deserve so much better than this. Than you.”

There was a mocking pout on his face. He reached out and grabbed my face again, squeezing my chin. “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” he asked incredulously. He let out a laugh. “And where do you think you’ll find someone like that?” I didn’t answer. I refused to give him the satisfaction. He chuckled, but then his face went serious. “I’m sorry that I haven’t seen you in months, darlin’. I’m sorry that I said I never wanted to see you again. I was pissed, sweet girl. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh you never mean it,” I said, the sarcasm’s impact dampened by the tearful sound of my voice.

He moved his hand from my chin to cup my face. I hated myself for it, but I did lean into the touch. “Come on, sweet girl…don’t be like that, baby,” he said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss to the side of my neck. “You know that I love you.” Another kiss, followed by a short nip. “I’ve been busy, darlin’. That’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, sweet girl. I know that. I’m not mad.”

“You were mad,” I accused, glaring at him.

“I was mad, baby,” he said, deceptively calm. “I was…frustrated that you wouldn’t let me take care of you. I just want what’s best for you. But I’m not mad anymore.”

“Well maybe I’m mad at you,” I retorted, harshness still lessened by the teary voice and the way I leaned into him.

“That’s okay,” he practically cooed. He pressed another kiss to my neck then moved so we were face to face, just a breath between us. He smirked, eyes drifting down to my lips and then back up. “You can be mad at me as long as you want, sweet girl. Just as long as you tell me that you love me.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “No,” I said stubbornly.

“Come on, sweet girl, please,” Rafe purred, stroking my neck with his hand lazily. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you,” I said, voice breaking. My eyes popped open and I felt the tears in them.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. He let out a hum and wiped a tear that slipped. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. He leaned forward and pressed a long, languid kiss to my lips. “Let me make it up to you, baby.” Another long kiss—lazier this time. “Let me apologize for calling you names, baby.” Another kiss. “Remind you that you’re my special, sweet girl.”

I huffed. “Oh so you wanna fuck me and suddenly I’m not a stupid, worthless cunt then?” I spat, voice dripping insecurity.

Rafe rolled his eyes so hard I was shocked that his eyes didn’t stick in the back of his head. “You’re not a stupid, worthless cunt. You’re my sweet girl and you know it,” he drawled. “I was a little fucking high when I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Oh and you’re not high now?” I asked even though I could already tell he wasn’t. He gave me a flat look and I deflated, leaning back, covering my face as I leaned against the arm of the couch. I sniffled. “Okay, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean it.”

He chuckled dryly and rubbed my leg gently. “It’d be fair if you did,” he drawled. He squeezed my leg. “And it’s fine that it’s not fair, sweet girl. I wasn’t fair. So.” He grabbed my legs and lowered them both to the floor. He gently pried my legs open leaning further into my space, hands dancing up both my thighs now. “How about I be real nice and make it up to you?”

“No,” I said stubbornly, glaring half-heartedly down at him. I felt his hand toy with the waist of my jeans, dancing just over the button. “I don’t want you to.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, unconvinced considering I’d begun to lean into his space more, opening my legs to give him more space to occupy, more space to get closer. “Oh?” he posed, tone almost mocking. “You don’t want to?”

“No,” I corrected, grabbing his hand, putting it back on my hair to silently prompt him to grab it just as he did before. “I don’t want you to be nice.” I glowered at him .”It’s been two months, Rafe. I need…”

He let out a low chuckle, eyes dark with quickly emerging lust. “Fuck, darlin’, tell me…what do you need?” he asked.

I blinked slowly, still looking right into his eyes, intoxicated by him already from such a short time together. “I need you to take care of me like you always do,” I said quietly.

Immediately, his hand wound tightly through my hair and he rose to his feet, forcing me to tilt my head up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wanting. I bit my lip, eyes trailing slowly down his body, to his belt at my eye level, and then back up. He chuckled again, grinning down at me. He wound his hand a bit tighter in my hair making me let out a squeak as he dragged me just a bit closer to his body.

“You need me to take care of you?” he posed, tone just shy of mocking. “Need me to help turn off that gorgeous fucking brain of yours, baby?” He used his free hand to trail down my cheek, fingers briefly touching my neck and stopping there. “Need me to fuck you stupid, sweet girl?”

Taking a shaky breath, I reached out, hand loosely holding his belt buckle. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

I reveled in the sudden, sharp sting in my cheek. “Try again,” he warned, voice raspy.

“Yes…please fuck me stupid, daddy,” I said, batting my eyes up at him. “I don’t wanna think anymore.”

“Fuck,” Rafe muttered, his voice raspier still, thick with lust. He chuckled and loosened his hand in my hair before dropping it. He took his shirt off and then knotted a hand back in my hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of my sweet girl.” He stroked my cheek gently with his free hand before moving it to his belt buckle and undoing it with ease. He then smirked down at me, inclining his head. “Well? Take me out, darlin’.” I glanced down at his open belt but he tutted, tilting my chin back up. “No, baby. Keep your eyes on me.” His request was one that was most easy for me to accommodate considering I felt like I’d die if I looked away from him.

My hands trembled as I reached forward, taking the belt off of him. I was ready to throw it to the side but Rafe held out a hand. Without even questioning it, I placed it in his hand. He then set it to the side and gestured with his head at me to continue. Which, I happily did. I heard him let out a quiet chuckle as I undid the button on his pants and brought down the zipper without breaking eye contact. I almost hastily pulled down the fabric until it sagged the rest of the way down. I raised my eyebrows at Rafe in a silent plea.

“What, baby?” he asked, amused, tightening his grip on my hair. I let out a weak whine and pouted. “What? You gotta tell me what you want, sweet girl. Use your words.”

“I wanna see your cock,” I responded, hooking my hand on the hem of the waistband of his boxers. I tilted my head to the side, jutting my bottom lip out further. “Please, daddy.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Okay, baby,” he drawled. I hummed, pleased with myself, and looked down, prepared to take his boxers off. But, he tutted, turning my head up with his grip on my hair so I’d meet his eyes again. “Nuh, uh, darlin’. Keep those gorgeous eyes on me still. Don’t you dare even think about looking at my cock yet, baby. Just get it out.”

“But—” I began to complain before being silenced with another warning slap on the cheek making me whine and pull back slightly; not that Rafe let me get very far.

“No but, baby. You listen to me. Be a good girl,” Rafe warned, tone darkening. “You know I want what’s best for you, right, sweet girl?” I nodded through teary eyes, looking back up at him. He cursed under his breath at the sight, tightening and then loosening his hand in my hair once more. “Good girl, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Now, get my cock out. And don’t even look at it.”

I shivered at the order but complied. I reached and used two fingers to gently drag the fabric of the boxers down until they too gave way, falling down past his knees. Using every bit of restraint I had, I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look at his dick even as it hung directly in front of my face. Rafe hummed, his free hand moving from his side to wrap around himself, pumping lazily. I swallowed, biting my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes up. A mocking laugh fell from Rafe’s mouth at the sight and I felt my stomach tighten.

“Oh there’s my good girl,” he cooed. “She can finally fucking listen, huh? So proud of you baby. Little slut that you are, I didn't think you’d be able to do it.” I let out a tiny whimper at his words, feeling a growing, heated pit of arousal low in my stomach. I shifted slightly, just barely able to keep my eyes from falling down. He chuckled again and pursed his lips. “How about you take your clothes off for me baby? Then I’ll let you look all you want at your favorite part of me.”

“All my clothes, daddy?” I checked. He nodded. I all but raced myself to do so. I whipped off the shirt I had on with ease and shimmied out of my jeans easily enough. Sitting there in my bra and panties, Rafe told me to stop and so I paused, looking up at him. “Yes, daddy?”

“Nothing, darlin’…just wanna look at you a minute,” he said, eyes dark with lust. “So fucking pretty, baby. God on fucking high, can’t imagine what I did to deserve such a blessing.”

“Stop,” I dismissed, blushing.

“Nah, baby. You’re a fucking twelve-course meal and I plan to have all of ‘em,” he dismissed, stepping closer and grabbing my chin. “And you aren’t gonna say some dumb shit like that again. We clear, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” I murmured, feeling his thumb ghost up to trace my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat and he seemed to remember himself.

He pulled away and smirked down at me. “Bra and panties off. Let me see that pretty pussy, darlin’. Been missing it so much while I was gone,” he purred. I shivered at his words but peeled them off, shivering at the cold feeling of the air against my nipples and the cool fabric of the couch against my exposed core, quickly growing wet. “Fuck you’re so pretty. Look at you…all this…just for me.” He came closer again—even more this time—and his hand loosely went around my jaw, jerking my head up. “You are just for me, aren’t you baby?” I nodded immediately. He glared, his voice gruffer. “Words, darlin’. Or I might not be inclined to be too nice to you.”

“Yes, daddy,” I said breathlessly, wide-eyed. “All yours. Just for you.” I felt my heart beating rapidly in anticipation of seeing Rafe smile down at me. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, hand still hooked around my jaw.

“Can I look please?” I asked sweetly, pouting up at him.

His lips quirked into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes looking at me, appraising. “I don’t know, baby. You think I should let you?” he asked.

“Please,” I said, pouting. “I just wan’ you. Want to see you. Wanna have you.”

“Awe with my sweet girl saying all that, well how could I say no?” he drawled, removing his hand from my neck to trail back and join the other in my hair. “Go ahead and look, darlin’. Take as long as you’d like.”

Ever so slowly, I broke my eye contact with Rafe, trailing my gaze down to his dick. Rafe’s confidence even as he stood bare as the day he was born was one of the things that had initially attracted me to him. But, looking at him now, lazily pumping his hand over his cock while he smirked down at me? I don’t think that I’d ever been quite so down bad for him. Which was…concerning, maybe? Pathetic, perhaps? But I didn’t care. At that moment, with his long, thick dick just hovering right in front of me, all I could think about was how badly I wanted him. Of how long I’d wanted him…of how long I’d waited.

“What? I don’t even gotta fuck you to turn that pretty brain off anymore?” he said, voice an alluring growl as he let out a dark sort of chuckle. “Got you so trained to take my dick you don’t even try to fight it, do you sweet girl?”

I shifted at his words, suddenly feeling my core flutter at his words, clenching regrettably—miserably—around nothing. His smirk increased tenfold at that and he stepped closer so that there was practically no space between us, not that there had been much before. Now, his cock stood proudly just next to my face. Again, ever so slowly I raised my eyes to meet his again. And the desperation must’ve been clear in my gaze if the smug, self-satisfied look in his were anything to go by.

“And this was supposed to be for you,” he hummed. “My dumb little baby won’t be able to think for herself and tell me what she wants when I get started, will she?” I let out a pathetic little whimper. “You just need something in that sweet little pussy and your perfect mouth, huh?” His eyes trailed down to my lips, briefly displaying the heated desire he was feeling before moving to meet mine again. “Tell me one thing, darlin’, okay? Think your cute lil’ brain can take that?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, voice coming out breathy. I squirmed slightly, squeezing my thighs together to avoid doing something like grinding on the couch and making him stop this before it even started.

“I don’t have too much patience before I gotta get in that tight fucking cunt, gorgeous,” he drawled. “So…tell me. You want me to eat that pretty pussy? Or do you want to choke on my cock?” He grinned, sharp-edged and shark-like. “It’s up to you.” An aborted moan came out of me at his words. The answer for me, right now, at least, was obvious. I glanced down at his dick and then back up. “Nuh uh, darlin’. You tell me which one you want.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” I whined, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Rafe chuckled, hands tightening in my hair. “I’ll give you a pass on not addressing me properly this once because you said something so sweet, darlin’. But don’t do it again,” he said, half-mocking, half-warning. I nodded eagerly. One hand released my hair. He pat my cheek and then held my jaw tightly between two fingers. “That’s my girl.” The possessiveness dripped off his tone. “Now be good for daddy and open that fucking mouth.”

My mouth fell open without much thought after that. He grinned as I left it open, tongue sticking out just the way he liked it. His thumb pressed down on my tongue, head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me. I moaned at even that simple feeling, my body practically trembling with want for him. But, for a good few long moments, that’s all he did, slowly pressing his thumb more against my tongue. But, after a few moments, he drew it away, using his free hand to lazily pump his cock—still only half-hard—in his hand. I inhaled shakily, eyes looking at his heavy cock, knowing the weight and feel of it without even touching it.

“Mmm,” Rafe said, letting out a leisurely sigh as he jerked himself off in front of me. “You want my dick, sweet girl?” I nodded eagerly, tongue still shamelessly hanging out of my mouth. “You want me to make you choke on my fucking cock, baby?” Again, I nodded and he groaned. “You’re so fucking sexy, darlin’, fuck.” I watched with rapt attention as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip of his dick. I heard Rafe chuckle not a moment later. “Holy shit are you drooling, baby? Fuck, you really want this dick, huh? Well, I don’t wanna leave you wanting.”

Rafe used the hand in my hair to bring my head closer and anchor it in place. His other hand still held his dick that he was bringing towards my awaiting mouth. The second I felt the tip of his dick touch my tongue I groaned in appreciation at finally having something, feeling myself growing wetter and wanting. Already, with him not even having touched me yet, I was a mess. Rafe knew it damn well too. He chuckled, slapping his dick against my tongue making me inhale sharply then let out a tiny little whimper.

“Should I stop teasing you baby?” he said, voice measured, even, and entirely unaffected—as if he were in a business meeting and not getting ready to ruin my throat. “Should I make sure you lose your voice tomorrow now?” I nodded as best I could while ensuring that his dick did not fall from my tongue which just made him let out another low groan. “Alright, then, baby. You asked for it. Time for you to put that fucking mouth to work.”

I barely had the time to inhale before I felt Rafe’s heavy member settling against my tongue. I let out a breathy moan, reflexively hollowing out my cheeks and bobbing my head to take him further into my mouth. I moved my hands to touch him and he slapped them away.

“No fucking hands,” he grunted, pulling my hair so I’d look up at him before pushing me down to the hilt of him, nose settling against his pelvis. He cursed and I felt his dick pulse in my mouth as he looked down at me, eyes dark and wanting. “So fucking pretty when I’m stretching your fucking mouth open, baby. Look at you. So fucking good.” My core fluttered again at his words, clenching and unclenching while I felt myself starting to dampen the couch slightly the wetter I got. “Gonna fuck your throat now, darlin’.”

With the minimal warning issued, he thrust heavily, pulling out of my mouth almost entirely before thrusting entirely back in. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, relaxing before something unfortunate could happen like my gag reflex being triggered. I moaned around him, using my tongue as little as I could find myself able to when he started to consistently, aggressively thrust himself to the back of my throat. I whimpered at the feeling, grinding absent-mindedly against the rough fabric of the couch, letting my tongue trace along the vein on the underside of his dick.

Rafe caught sight of my desperate rutting against the couch and he let out a dark, slightly breathless chuckle without interrupting the pace of his thrusting. “God, look at my desperate fucking baby. What, is daddy not taking care of you fast enough? Fuck,” he grunted. “You wanna grind like a desperate, needy, brainless little toy? I should make you fucking get off of my thigh without me touching you?” My choked whine of displeasure at the threat made him let out another mean sort of laugh. “Don’t worry, darlin’. That’s gonna be for later.” I let out another whine at the promise then. “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you get yourself off on my leg and then I’m gonna eat your pussy so good. Gonna make you cum for me at least five times before I stop. I’ll fucking tie you up if I gotta, gorgeous. Gonna make my sweet girl so overstimulated she’s not gonna think ‘bout anything but my fucking cock…my fucking mouth…my fucking hands.” Each word was punctuated by a pointed thrust down my throat. “As if you think about anything else, my dumb little fuckin’ baby, yeah?”

When he pulled out of my mouth entirely, releasing my hair, I reflexively gasped in a breath of air, eyes wide and watering. I looked up at him. But, Rafe was still non-plussed by how fucked out I already was. He wasn’t even pausing, barely breaking even a bead of sweat across his gorgeous, obscenely perfect body. No, instead, he knelt down in front of me, one hand making its way immediately to my pussy and finding my clit like two ends of a magnet attracting to each other. He let out a low tutting sound, shaking his head at me as I bucked my hips against his hand before I could stop myself.

“So fucking sloppy, pretty girl. Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice both teasing and harsh. “Barely even done anything to you, baby. You’re just that much of a needy little fuckin’ slut for me, huh?” I let out a high-pitched keening noise and he hummed, wrapping his hand around my throat to make me focus on him even as he slipped two thick digits inside of me. “You want me, baby?” His voice was husky, rasping and his alluring eyes were locked intently on me.

“Yes, daddy,” I whined, voice weak around the whining and moans that I couldn’t help but release as he finger fucked me into oblivion. Even with so little direct stimulation, I felt my legs starting to tremble and my stomach starting to tighten, coiling and ready to barrel quickly towards release. Rafe could tell too based on the way my pussy was practically trying to swallow his fingers whole. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” he cooed, pretending like he didn’t already know damn well what I wanted.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

“Oh but you sound so pretty when you’re whining, gorgeous,” he groaned. “And I need you to be nice and fuckin’ ready for me. So I need you to cum for me before I fuck you.” My stomach tightened further just on the edge of sweet, sweet release that I’d been missing the past two months while he was missing on fucking house arrest. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” I sobbed, hips trying to buck even as he used his massive hand to direct my hips to keep the rhythm he wanted, the other tightening around the outside of my throat, making my eyes roll.

“Good girl,” he huffed. He paused his speech a moment, his fingers moving even faster, making me choke out a sobbing moan, head falling back until he squeezed my throat again in warning, making me lift my head. He then issued a command. A single word. “Cum.”

And who was I to disobey?

The coil in my stomach exploded into a mirage of light behind my eyes as they rolled back. I felt a slightly shrill shriek erupt from my mouth more than I actually heard myself. And all that I could think of beyond the veil and haze of pleasure was the feeling of Rafe’s hands, his skin so close to me. He supported my body as I slumped against him, both of his hands moving to rest low on my hips.

“Good job, gorgeous. You look so fucking pretty falling apart for me,” he encouraged, his voice an appreciative, warm grumble of affection. His hands ghosted up and down my sides. “You ready for me to fuck you, pretty little thing?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, letting out a long, shaky sigh. I reached out, hands trailing up the planes of his solid chest, leaning my head on him to listen to his steady, calm heartbeat. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course, baby,” he said. I could hear the smugness in his voice but I didn’t care. He leaned me back on the couch and moved to get up. I let out a whine of dissatisfaction and grabbed his hand tightly, pulling him back towards me. He looked amused as he raised a brow. “I have to go get a condom, sweet girl.”

“No,” I said stubbornly.

“No?” he asked.

“Have you been fucking bitches on house arrest?” I asked, bottom lip jutting out.

He reached out, pulling my lip down and looking at it in undisguised intrigue. “No,” he admitted.

“Well, then you haven’t worn a condom with me before. So fuck’s sake, Rafe just fuck me,” I demanded.

Rafe’s eyes had a hardened sort of glee to them. His hand moved before I registered it and my head turned as his palm made contact with my cheek. Again, my core clenched around nothing. This time, I bit back the moan that threatened to escape.

“Who?” he warned, sounding all too happy to remind me of my place.

“Fuck me, daddy,” I reiterated, still with an extreme attitude. “Fuck me, don’t pull out cum in me, I don’t care. Just fuck me, daddy.”

“Drop the attitude,” Rafe said, a final warning.

“No,” I spat, knowing exactly where it would get me. You know, right where I wanted.

Instead of slapping me again as I’d first expected, Rafe tilted my head up with just his pointer finger under my chin, his shark-like smile back again. “Do you want to be punished, baby?” he asked, sounding all too eager. I offered no answer. He used his free hand and slapped me, harder this time. I couldn’t bite back the moan this time, or the way that my hand tried to drift between my legs. He caught my wrist easily to stop me. “Answer me or I’m gonna stop. I’ll walk out the fucking door, darlin’.” My bottom lip quivered at the thought, chest heaving. “Do you want a punishment, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I admitted after another stubborn moment.

“Well why didn’t you say so, darlin’,” he cooed sarcastically.

In a flurry of movement, Rafe sat on the couch and had me over his knee. My bare, soaked cunt made contact with his hard knee and I choked on a moan at that feeling. I barely had time to register the change in position before he landed his first hit on my ass. I yelped at the feeling, reflexively trying to squirm away from the pain, even as I felt a jolt of pleasure at the feeling. Rafe held my hips in place easily with one hand, keeping me firmly on his lap, and used the other to lay a hard slap against my ass, making me yelp again.

“That feel fucking good baby?” he grunted, slapping me again. I didn’t answer, a sharp, hissing inhale coming from my mouth. Another slap. Another whimper. “You should be fucking thanking me for this, darlin’. Disciplining your unruly fucking ass. Making you my good girl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you. Please,” I whimpered, reflexively trying to squirm once more when his hand made contact with my ass yet again.

“Please, what, sweet girl? Remind you that you’re fucking mine? Oh, I am gonna, darlin’. This is just part of it,” he ground out. I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my side and I was torn between wanting it stuffed in my mouth and my pussy. Both thoughts escaped from my mind entirely as he landed another slap against my ass.

“More,” I ground out through clenched teeth, barely able to resist the urge to grind against his thigh and knee with the desperation that I was feeling.

“Needy little slut, you are, huh?” he asked, amused. His hands stopped their cyclical pattern of slapping my ass to rub the abused flesh for a moment. I felt his hand move between my legs more, teasing my entrance with his fingers. Naturally, I opened my legs for him. He chuckled at that. “Can’t wait to be stuffed with me, can you? Already brain dead to everything but me, aren’t you, sweet girl? You’re just my little plaything right now, aren’t you?” I buried my face in the couch and let out a groan, feeling his hand circling my clit again, lazily, not creating enough friction to do anything.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

“Don’t worry, pretty little thing. I know just what you need to cum again. I decided I need two from you before I fuck this sweet little fucking pussy,” he grunted. With sudden and almost startling accuracy, Rafe slapped me again. This time, his hand made contact not with my ass but with my pussy, the sharp slap making me gasp and jerk from the pain. I let out a half-aborted scream and rocked back into his palm, panting from surprise. He openly laughed. “You didn’t think I forgot how much you liked that, did you, darlin’? Remember that real fucking well? So I’m gonna take care of this pussy just the way I know you need it.” I let out a breathy moan mixed with a cry as he spanked my clit once more. Again and again and again he did it until I felt like I was dripping sweat on my whole body and my pussy was soaked with my juices—the couch too for that matter. “Fuck me, baby, your pussy is so pretty all puffy like this. She’s just crying for me. You want me so bad your poor fucking brain can’t handle it, can it?” I let out a pathetic little whimper, unable to muster much more. “I tell you what, darlin’. You cum from me slapping this pussy and I’ll fuck you til you pass out if that’s what you want. You wanna do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped immediately, hardly even grasping the words just knowing that I wanted the pleasure that had been slowly building to finally reach its fucking crescendo.

“Good girl,” he said before unleashing a series of slaps to my pussy in a pattern that I couldn’t have anticipated if I were in his damn brain myself.

This time, as I tumbled over the edge of pleasure, I wailed, jerking against his hand. I collapsed against Rafe’s leg as the aftershock of the second orgasm washed over me. I gasped for air like I’d been drowning and I felt Rafe’s hand tracing up and down my back lazily. As I caught my breath, he placed a final sharp slap to my pussy making me let out a weak yelp of complaint. Without being too gentle, Rafe maneuvered me off of his lap and over the arm of the couch. He let out an appreciative groan and I lifted my head to look back at him. I was startled to see him lifting the belt. My eyes widened as I felt him wrap it around my wrists, quickly binding me.

“You’re not getting away from me, gorgeous. Not when I finally get to fuck my pussy again. You’re nice and ready for me,” he said, sounding almost absent-minded as he spoke to me. He grunted as he slid into me with a single thrust. When he bottomed out we both let out moans—his low and mine high and keening—and I felt my body shake. “Fuck. When you can feel your legs I’m gonna fuck you so hard in doggy you’re gonna not walk the day after. But right now I just gotta finish the job, baby. Gotta turn your fuckin’ brain off forever.”

With that, he started to purposefully piston his hips, holding my bound wrists behind my back for better leverage. I was nearly boneless, shrieking in pleasure as his hot, throbbing cock stretched me open and brushed against each and every nerve ending just right—at least that was how it felt. How he felt. His thrusts were deep and slow and pointed. I sobbed against the feeling, wanting to rut back into him to make him speed up. But, I couldn’t muster the strength. So I just let him fuck into me at his own pace and I felt myself starting to build towards another bout of pleasure—this bound to be even stronger than before if the stars already behind my eyes were anything to go by.

“Daddy, please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I wanted more or less stimulation, more or less pleasure, from him.

Regardless of what I wanted, Rafe didn’t say anything. He grunted out a noise of acknowledgment that I’d spoken then doubled down in his efforts to make me cum again. And when he wrapped his arm around my throat again, tightening quickly and entirely, it was over. This time, as he forced me to a third orgasm, I was actually sobbing, tears running down my face from the fucked up amount of pain and pleasure entwined in being so overstimulated in such a short period of time—especially after so long away from him.

“There’s my good fucking girl,” Rafe said, voice slightly hoarse as he slowed his thrusts to a stop.

He still hadn’t cum himself, his dick fully pulsing inside of me with how hard he was. I dreaded what that meant, even though I also fully anticipated what I knew would come. He gently undid the belt from around my wrists, releasing me, and then eased himself out of me. He flipped me around on the couch and I looked at him with big watery eyes.

“Please no more,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. “It’s too much, please.”

“Come on, darlin’,” he cooed, pressing kisses to my cheeks. “Come on, sweet girl. You can give me one more. Been missing my pussy so much. You know I need one more from her.” Another series of kisses, the last one a long and lingering, filthy one to my lips where his tongue entwined with mine and we both pulled back needing air. “Please, baby. One more for me.”

His hand moved down, gently tracing my clit, making me jolt. Already I was so sensitive, so overstimulated. But, the impossibly sweet and imploring look on his face? The hunger he had for me? It was impossible to deny.

“Okay, daddy,” I agreed, sniffling.

He leaned his forehead against mine, grinning. “That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He hitched my leg up over his hip, settling between my legs on the couch. He used his free hand to grip his cock, looking down at us. He gently slapped the head of his dick against my clit once, twice, a third time until I whined and he chuckled, reaching over to press a short kiss to my lips to shut me up. He ran himself up and down my slit over and over until I was shivering and he saw a tiny dribble of new arousal dripping from me. He let out a low moan of his own and then sank into me in one, hitching my leg up again so he could thrust as deep as humanly possible.

“There you are, gorgeous. There’s my beautiful fucking girl,” Rafe praised, pressing a kiss to each cheek, to my lips, and to my forehead as he steadily thrust into me. “So fucking perfect for me. So fucking good for me, baby.”

“You feel so good, daddy,” I said, eyes rolling back and then curling as he pressed down on the slight bulge in my stomach only present because of him. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you, baby. Fucking anything,” he grunted. He ground slower against me instead of thrusting for a few moments. “You don’t get to keep me from my pussy anymore, baby. I gotta fucking be with you.”

“Wanna be with you, daddy,” I babbled in agreement.

“Good fucking girl,” he huffed, pressing down on the bulge again making me whimper. I felt his dick pulsate again and I tightened around him habitually making his breath hitch. “You gonna cum for me one more time, baby? I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” I whined. “Please can I cum? Please, please, please?” I begged.

“Fu-fuck yeah,” Rafe stuttered. “Cum with me baby.”

And this time, as I fell across pleasure’s razor edge once more, Rafe fell with me. I felt as he came inside me, hot and deep. My eyes rolled at the feeling, almost addicted to the mere feeling of him being so close and intensely part of me at that moment. I held him without realizing it, nails digging into the skin of his back as I held him against me, ignoring the fact that I was trembling like a leaf.

“So proud of you, my sweet girl. So good for me, gorgeous. Love you so much. So good for me.” Those were the first things I was coherent of hearing again when the whooshing in my ears had faded. They were the sweet praise that Rafe was offering. He went to move—to pull out—but I held him to me still, almost wrapping myself around him like a koala to stop it.

“No,” I denied. “Don’t move yet.”

“Okay, baby,” he agreed. “I won’t pull out. Do you want me to hold you?” I nodded. He carefully moved us. I winced as he adjusted us so that I was sitting up and in his lap because it made him deeper for a moment still but as we settled that faded and I just melted into his chest. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so good.” He stroked my skin and hair for a moment. “I gotta get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Get you some water.”

“Not yet,” I denied again, eyes closed as I leaned against him, as much of my skin touching him as possible. “Take care of me in a minute.”

He chuckled. “Oh? You’re gonna let me take care of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered absent-mindedly. “Fine. You can take care of me, Rafe. I’ll stop being stubborn.” I needed his help. He’d been right about that when he showed up, I was adult enough to admit that. And I knew that he loved me. That he meant it from the best place.

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re gonna move in with me? Let me take care of you? Just like that? All I had to do was fuck you like that?”

“Yeah. That’s all you had to do,” I agreed, far too exhausted to explain the complex detail of it in truth. I let out a breathless laugh though, a thought occurring to me when I felt a cool bite of metal and plastic on my leg. “Well, as long as you don’t get arrested for busting out of house arrest.” I cracked open my eyes to give him a smile.

“Shut up, I'll be fine,” he muttered. His hands held me closely, tightly, possessively to him. “You don’t get to take it back. I get to take care of you now. To make sure you’re safe. You’re gonna live with me, sweet girl.”

“Okay, Rafe,” I agreed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch and I smiled. “I will.” I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, laying my forehead against his.

“I love you, baby,” he murmured, so quiet I could barely hear it.

“I love you too,” I replied, just as quiet, just as simple.

He smiled at that, the sight making his eyes go warm and sweet. “Alright, then, gorgeous. Let’s get you cleaned up and get the fuck out of here,” he said. His smile morphed into a cheesy sort of grin—the kind I rarely got to see. “Let’s go home.”

For once, I couldn’t disagree. And I couldn’t help but echo the cheesy smile. “Okay, then, Romeo,” I teased. “Let’s go home.”

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aceofthyme · 2 years

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My official review of Yankee Buccaneer:

Lots of snazzy pirate clothes, Farragut looked like the Hamburglar, the torture scene was slightly homoerotic, Captain Porter had a great swashbuckle-y moment. Kinda weird they were both vying for the same girl, but I mean it’s a film from 1952 that’s slightly to be expected. I also appreciated Porter’s “light everything on fire” plan, 10/10 from me, and the shark fight was suspenseful even if I’m 90% sure the aerial footage was an adolescent reef shark and the underwater footage was a giant rubber toy.

Everyone should go watch this immediately.

Also have some more photos! Featuring The Bois™️, Torture Time, Stabby Stabby, and Big Boat!

#my mom’s official review is ‘very yankee with a splash of buccaneer’#it was a fun film to watch #would recommend. definitely not historically accurate but very funny #yankee buccaneer (1952)#alyssa speaks #history things #also mr link needs a twelve step program methinks

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cursedcola · 1 year

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul (here!), Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Riddle Rosehearts

Very traditional, but this is expected. He asks your closest of kin (a cat, to his horror) for permission to propose. Regardless of Grimm's answer, there is already a ring that's been purchased. This is merely formality

He comes up with an elaborate plan to execute the 'perfect' proposal. Riddle maps it all out and runs multiple drafts by his childhood friends. Everything must go perfectly - or else you might not accept. Is it likely that not presenting you with exactly 12 red roses with the spikes trimmed and arranged with 6 sprigs of baby's breath will be the reason you decline? Likely not. Will he chance it though? No.

Despite all his planning, he is a nervous wreak. Our red prince is great at masking it though. He plans an entire evening down to the last detail. You both go to a upscale restaurant that serves your favorite cuisine under the pretense that you're celebrating an amazing jab offer Riddle received the day prior. There's dinner, dancing, a romantic atmosphere, and delightful conversation (he prepared conversation topics in advance in case he felt nervous).

Oh look, there just so happens to be an outdoor garden to take an evening stroll through. Would you like to go?

Of course you would, and he asks you to wait outside as he visits the restroom. After you pass through the back door, a nearby waiter slips him the bouquet of twelve roses that he dropped off in the morning. He counts them, checks the stems, the ribbon holding them together, and with a relieved sigh he reaches into his pocket.

Riddle nestles the engagement ring within the core of the center rose, and for a moment his anxiety quells. He looks through the outside door's windowpane, and sees you patiently waiting for him while admiring the garden lights. The anxiety returns, but he's ready. With a knuckle-white grip on the flowers, he passes through the doors.

"Hello...I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I had a matter of great importance to attend to - wha? No! Not that- ugh. I wasn't in the restroom! Only you would make such a childish remark on such an important day...No, do not apologize. I was not referring to my career. Perhaps these flowers will provide some clarity. I hope they are to you liking,"

When you notice the ring, he gently takes it and gets down on one knee. Riddles heart rattles against his ribcage, and his the mask of calm falters. He holds out the ring with one hand, and the other lightly trembles as it reaches for yours.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my spouse? I promise that you will be cared for dearly, and that I will work tirelessly to become a husband that you will be proud of,"

{Riddle's ring is a mix of new and old. Tradition dictates a diamond for a wedding ring, but he knows better. Riddle wants you to think of him every time you see this ring, so he chooses to stray. Three rubies sit nested in diamonds. The color of his hair, which you love to poke fun of so much. It represents how he is willing to consistently change while still holding on to his core values, all so he can become a husband worthy of you}

Trey Clover

A simple man, and therefore takes a simple approach. The depth of his proposal lies in the timing. He does not know when he will be ready to commit, or how to tell if you are ready to as well.

Trey puts proposing off for the longest time. He acts in baby steps. The idea toys with him for months, until one day he convinces himself that he is ready. After that he slowly begins to look at rings, and think of ideas. He wants to be original, but would that overwhelm you? He would sooner die than do something tacky like a public proposal at a concert or event...but is that something you might want?

If there is one thing Trey is certain about, its that rejection would break him. He knows that your relationship would never be the same if he proposed too early, or if he managed to royally screw it up. He's not a fan of attention. This is awful. Oh Great Sevens it's a pressure that he never dreamed of having to undergo.

But if he doesn't propose...would you? Are you waiting for him? what if you're thought process is the same as his?

Completely out of character for Trey, he ends up proposing on impulse. He woke up one morning and saw the ring tucked away in his sock drawer. For the millionth time he had to face the "I should just do it," thoughts and decided to act on them

The day is new, neither of you had work, and a quick glance over his shoulder proves that you would be soundly sleeping for at least the next hour. So what's he do? Trey puts on his nicest casual clothes. Nothing formal, but also nothing that is sloppy. Then he marches downstairs and starts to make breakfast. He decides to prepare tarts, a reminiscence of your days as students and where you first met. As he arranges them on a platter, he places the ring inside one made with your favorite flavor. It peaks out just enough for anyone to notice, and with a huff Trey steps back to admire his work.

His hands are slightly clammy, and quickly moves to busy himself in fear he might chicken out. It helps for a time, until he hears your footsteps approach the kitchen, followed by a sleepy 'good morning' and arms wrapping around his torso

He steels himself, and turns over in your arms to kiss the top of your head. With a nervous laugh, Trey gestures to the platter of fruit tarts and smiles at how the sight of food causes you to perk up. Like clockwork, you reach for your favorite flavor and quickly notice the metal chunk inside

He reigns in panic as you dig the ring out and eye it with a quirked brow. A moment of silence passes before it clicks, and you whip to gawk at him with the largest bugeyes he has ever seen. Wordlessly, Trey takes the ring, wipes off any crumbs with his shirt, and takes your hands in his

"I'm sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning. It must be quite the wakeup call, huh? Haha...The truth is, I have wanted to give this to you for such a long time. I simply did not know how. I had a burst of courage this morning, and am honestly running on pure adrenaline. I love you...I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me?"

{Trey's ring is a single pearl on a gold band. He feels that the ring should reflect it's wearer, and you are one of the most naturally beautiful people he has ever seen. There is beauty in simplicity - in seeing things as they are with no modifications. You do that for him, and he loves how your relationship is authentic}

Cater Diamond

Marriage? Huh. See, in the past that was a no-go. Very constricting and he didn't enjoy the idea of getting linked to someone in that regard. An s/o with no legal binding? Sure. It's just a title anyways, right? That kind of thing shouldn't matter in the long run.

Except it did end up being relevant, and now Cater wants to beat himself up because he explicitly told you once things were getting serious that he wasn't interested in marriage. You were fine with doing either and left the decision up to him. Very nice of you to be so nonchalant , and now he knows that marriage isn't 'off the table'. There is a chance.

A chance that requires him to both propose and take back his initial stance. Which is kind of humiliating. The take back part, not the proposal. Cater is confident that he can blow you away. He doesn't need shoddy internet advice, or to to do extensive research to be perfect. Nope. It's all in his noggin. He knows you like the back of his hand and therefore can concoct a speech to woo you easily.

So what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Does he try to casually tip you of that he's interested in getting married before trying to propose? No. That would be incredibly dull and ruin the element of surprise. Cater always hated those crappy half-baked romance films where the loser male lead is all 'oh honey I promise I will propose. Just give me time,' because hello???? You spoiled it??? Also don't make promises that you don't plan to keep, douchebag. How dull.

He decides that it's all or nothing. Cater spends an entire night online shopping for a ring. He already knows all of your sizes...don't ask how or why. Anyway, ordering is a cinche. Just ignore his eyebags the next day and his snappy attitude. He can't even whine about how tired he is because that would mean he has to say why he didn't sleep and -EUGH. He is torn between his two loves. Complaining for attention, and wooing you for attention. It's rough.

It comes in the mail, and after checking the package he decides to seal it back up again. It looks untouched thanks to his skills. Then, he sets up the living room to look like he is filming a video for his magicam. Specifically an unboxing video, and makes sure to let you know that it's from one of your favorite companies.

You take the bait, and he asks you to join him. Even if your camera shy, he insists that for just this one video you hop on. He might be a bit tricky and give you ideas about the product in the box (making sure to align them with a hobby or fandom that you're into). He sets the camera to record, plops down casually at your side, and hands you the box cutter. Go crazy.

Cater can't help but giggle when you open the box - just to pull out another small box. You eye it cautiously, now suspicious that this might be a prank. He urges you to open the box, and you do so while holding it at arms-length away from your face.

The ring's gem sparkles in the camera light, and he watches amused as you pull it closer. With a shaky hand, you take it out of the box and inspect it. With the way you side-eye him, Cater can tell that you're wondering if this situation is a cruel prank...

"Tada~~ You like? -- WAIT! Before you get upset just let me explain! There is no video. That was a lie, and I'm sorry for it. I surprised you good though, right?...ahem, uhm. I'm not pranking you. If you feel the same, then I want for us to get married! I know what I said before, and I take it back. The time we have spent together made me realize that I only felt that way - well, because I was unable to imagine liking someone enough to share my life. So...do you want to marry me?"

{A diamond for a diamond. Diamonds are reflective. They glitter, and are clear. They are also viewed as the best choice for a ring, but in actuality they have are not. They're only considered perfect because of marketing. In actuality, they're quite the opposite. This same reasoning applies to Cater - and you understand. Yet, you still love him. The diamond represents himself, and the heart shape is to remind you how much you mean to him}

Deuce Spade

He may be young, but he is not stupid...alright. Deuce is not always stupid. Sometimes? Yes. He makes poor decisions and lets his emotions get the better of him.

This? Not a poor decision, and he will never EVER think twice about it. From the moment the idea entered Deuce's head, it was decided. HE would become your husband. Nothing would stop him.

It began during his final year at Night Raven College. Graduation approached, and everyone was excited. Everyone, except for one person. You. He didn't notice it at first, being too hung up over how he actually managed to do well in school. Get this, he even became Heartslabyul Drumhead after Riddle graduated! What an honor! His mother was proud of him, and he was proud of himself! He had career aspirations, plans to get a home back home, and even a lovely s/o to flaunt. Life was great.

What...do you mean? That you're not going back with him? The Queendom of Roses is such a beautiful place! He's certain that you'll love it and can become adjusted. Why do you want to stay at this academy? Was three years not enough?

Deuce has never gotten mad at you before. A little miffed, sure, but never frustrated. He didn't like it. Not these feelings, or how he failed to notice that you planned this from the start. He was so wrapped up in his own happiness, that he failed to see that you felt troubled over his assumptions. It stung. In a moment of weakness, he left you alone, scared that he might raise his voice at you.

He needed to think. Alone. Thankfully he moved past sharing a room with Ace when Deuce became Housewarden. His phone rang many times. Some calls from you, Ace, his mother...for once, Deuce didn't think her advice could help him. Not when he was so confused.

He thought over his dreams for after college. They were the same that he had since prior to enrolling. Nothing changed...except for you and the other unexpected friends he made along the way. It began to settle within him that the unpredicted parts were more important to him than what he initially planned. The image of him as a successful worker, on his own, and being successful were all hollow if they didn't include you. Deuce wasn't upset that you planned to stay at NRC, he was upset that you didn't plan to stay with him.

Or did you? He interpreted it as such in the moment, but he's not so sure. All Deuce knows is that you're his best friend and the love of his life. If you stay here without him, will that change? He doesn't want to find out.

The next day, he's determined. It's impulsive, this he knows. Yet it's what feels right in his heart and Deuce has always trusted his gut instinct. This choice is entirely on him. No one's advice to excuse it if you don't reciprocate, and yet he isn't afraid. He might not have a ring, or fancy offerings. All he has is his love to offer, and a willingness to work around any obstacle. The hurt from the night prior sill aches in his chest, but he has done difficult things before. The pain merely serves as a reminder for how he hurt you, and what his future might be like if he doesn't act.

He finds you before breakfast. When the first rays of sunshine peak over the horizon and the air is still moist with morning dew. You lingered in the hall of mirrors, specifically near the portal to Heartslabyul Hall. Your presence startled him, and he nearly headbutt you from the speed he was going through the portal. Were you...planning to visit him? His heart shuddered in a mix of guilt and happiness. Even after the way he behaved, you still cared.

Upon closer inspection, you appear just as disheveled as him. He must have caused you a great deal of worry...damn it. He can't even be mad at himself. Not with things as they are.

Before you have a chance to speak, he hushes you. Deuce's jaw sets in determination and he reaches into his uniform pocket. He pulls out a paper ring. One that children often give each other on the playground when playing family. He then gets down on one knee, and holds it out with both hands.

"I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you, or push my ambitions on to you. I simply love you more than anything else, and was afraid that you did not want to be together anymore. I was afraid...that being apart would take away what we have. I realize that I was wrong. I didn't see it happening, but being with you has caused me to develop dreams beyond what I initially planned. Nothing I imagine feels right, unless you are in the picture. I don't have a proper ring prepared just yet...but will you marry me? I promise that no matter where we are - for better or worse, I will make you happy. I swear it!

{Your initial ring is made out of his most recent homework assignment. It's frail, and one drop of water will break it. However, he meticulously folded it and it is the byproduct of many imperfect prototypes. The paper ring truly represents who Deuce is. It's rushed, fragile, and full of love}

{He chooses a vintage ring. With both of your initials engraved on the center, he hopes that this ring attests to a promise no matter where you both are. It's rose-gold, not as bright as pure gold but still beautiful. The mixed color represents the different worlds you both come from, as well as your melded life}

Ace Trappolla

Ace tends to get comfortable, and when that happens it is difficult to ignite change. However, he is also headstrong. More than many give him credit for. So once the problem is identified, it's only a matter of time until he does something about it. What he does isn't necessarily always the best solution, sure; however, when threatened he will indeed act.

Initially Ace did not plan to find love. For a long time, he rejected it and passed his feelings off as a small crush. You're attractive, he's a man, a lil of this and a lil of that - who wouldn't feel a little heart throb once in a while? It only became an issue when you became one of his best friends. It felt like he was betraying you with these thoughts. They became a problem.

His first solution was to repress them further. Like stated, he noticed a problem and so he acted. Was this the best choice? No. It ended in a dumpster-fire. Any time another student even remotely expressed interest in you, Ace felt threatened. He couldn't spend time at your side without indecent thoughts popping up. Not like 'that' (geez, get your mind out of the gutter people), but more so domestic. Ick. What was happening?!

He couldn't hold it in, and his confession will forever be known as a feels-dump that started with you sharing half of your grilled-cheese with him because he missed lunch.

Yeah. Humiliating. Ugh.

Now you're his partner, of a long time. A very, very, very long time. Years post graduation. You both have settled into life together, so why tack a title? It's not like those mean anything, right? Everything was perfect as is, and weddings are expensive. You never brought it up either, so why worry?

Well, those titles do mean things in the eyes of the law. Ace never thought to get documentation about emergency contacts and whatnot updated. So when hit his head and got a concussion when jogging? The hospital wouldn't let you in. Not until he woke up, which was the longest four hours of your life.

You didn't express how much it bothered you, but words weren't necessary. The muted panic that you tried to hold back was enough. He expected you to enter his room angry, but instead all he got was defeat. That sight alone hurt worse than the leg.

The event got Ace thinking about things he hadn't in a long time - like marriage. He got too comfortable after letting the thought go once. To him, you were already irreplicable. Years do that, and he's certain that you feel the same way about him. If his young self could see him now...pah, he was such a turd. All 'I don't need anyone,' and empty words to play tough-guy. Little did he know that the person he would need the most in life was only a dimension-hop away haha.

It's that simple, really. No panic or nervousness. Ace decided definitively that he was going to marry you, and it only took years of being an airhead to figure it out.

He spends the night in the hospital for surveillance, and the staff is kind enough to prove you with a cot to sleep on. He stubbornly drags it next to his bed, and once you're sleeping soundly he 3slips a bandage over your ring finger to take the measurement

He planned to go buy the ring instantly after being discharged, but you wouldn't leave his side. Nagging about bed-rest and taking it easy...ugh! He needs to do this thing! No, he can't tell you about it. It's a secret!.....ugh, fine. One more day. Just because he loves the attention.

The next morning after, he's excitedly going to the nearest jewelers. He doesn't have a particular ring in mind, but he's done some research! It's the idea behind the ring that's important anyways....alright. Maybe he'll call up Cater.

Ace does nothing extravagant. He sticks to comfort. You, him, both eating dinner while watching a movie on the TV that evening. He quickly scarfs down his meal within the first 10 minutes and runs to your shared room after ditching his dishes. Stashed in his wallet, he pulls put the ring and hides it in his palm.

Ace tries to be smooth. He dims the living room lights, and sits down closer to you than before. He moves to take your hand with the one holding the ring, and sneak it on to your finger.

It fails, obviously. Who wouldn't notice someone trying to shove a piece of metal on their finger? You pull away on instinct, and the ring falls between the couch cushions. He freaks out for a moment and sifts through them as you continue to eat between giggles. Only when he holds the ring up in triumph do you quiet down.

"Not so funny now, is it? - Nah, just kidding. It was pretty funny....although I wanted this to be a bit more romantic. Eh. It's fine. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that you know what this is?...Uhh. Yeah. I thought it was a good time, y'know? We've been together so long that I already do think of you as my partner. I think you feel the same? Feel free to jump in if not....but, yeah. I love you. A lot. I'd really like to make it official, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get the guts to ask. Will you marry me?"

{Tradition is for chumps. Ace wanted to get something fun and eye-catching. Many suggested otherwise, but this felt right. Your relationship has never been conventional and never will be. Hell, screw 'conventional,' because it's perfect as it is and so is this ring. He knows that this ring will draw your attention, and that's all he cares about}

End Note: None of the ring pictures are mine. I pulled them off of google images because - well, I had ideas and tried to find rings to match them. I write fanfic, not weld jewelry.

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar smut

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queermania · 6 months

Note

Youve said in the past you don't think Dean would do well with AA. Could you expand on what you mean by that?

well. the first problem with AA is that it has an all or nothing approach. either you're fully sober or you've gone off the deep end. and that's not realistic or helpful for everybody. i don't think dean needs full sobriety to be okay. what he needs is to not fall back on alcohol as a coping mechanism when he's deep in the pits of despair. the AA program doesn't allow for that kind of nuance.

equally important is the fact that AA is geared towards a very specific type of person: a cishet, white, man who isn't living in the world of a fantasy genre show. have you ever looked at the twelve steps? i'm assuming the average person hasn't, or if they have, their eyes just sort of glaze over when reading them because they're vague and repetitive and sound like nonsense. but what they essentially boil down to is this:

accepting a higher power (aka god) and handing over control to them

admitting every awful thing you believe about yourself and accepting that those things are the truth

admitting that you are the architect of all of your problems

admitting that you are the one who has done harm to the world and those around you (and no harm done to you is an excuse for anything ever)

making yourself as vulnerable as possible

this sounds like a cheat sheet for exacerbating every problem dean winchester has. this is a person who has been fighting for control his entire life, who already hates himself and thinks he's to blame for things that he couldn't possibly be responsible for, etc.

these steps make my skin crawl and i've never been singled out by god or his army. there's just no way dean winchester sits through a single meeting and comes out better for it.

#replies #anonymous #dw #addiction cw #alcoholism cw

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bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.6

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which a few calls get missed as the days go on and anakin gets a taste of what the rockstar lifestyle is truly like while you become closer to your classmate.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Fuck, they were loud tonight,” Vinny muttered as he fell onto the couch in the tour bus. Clara was next to him, congratulating him on another great show as she pressed multiple kisses to his cheek.

The sight was a bit too much and Anakin had to look away as he was reminded of the way you were always all over him after a show. He pulled out his phone, glancing over at the couple. “They were amazing,” he corrected Vinny as he clicked on your contact. It was nearing one AM in Sweden, so it should be around twelve AM for you, and he hoped that you were still awake.

The show went on a bit longer tonight, and his plans of calling you after had been greatly affected by it. He went to click the call button when he saw the few texts you had left him.

8:23 PM

Princess: Good luck, baby! You’ll do amazing, like always. Wish I was there!

11:07 PM

Princess: Call me when it’s over? I miss you

12:47 AM

Princess: I tried staying up, but I start class in less than seven hours, so we’ll just talk tomorrow. I love you, Ani. I hope you had a great show! Goodnight.

He cursed under his breath as he made his way to his bunk. You had sent that last text not too long ago, but you were probably just falling asleep and he didn’t want to disturb you. You needed to get as much rest as possible before you began the program, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that.

Guilt filled his body as he typed out a quick text, knowing it wouldn’t wake you up since you never slept with your ringer on.

Goodnight, princess. I love you.

He plugged his phone in after that as Vinny and Clara passed him on their way to the back of the bus. Anakin groaned quietly and had to race Theo to the bathroom so he wouldn’t be stuck hearing them go at it.

Theo flipped him off as he grabbed his headphones from off his bunk and moved to lay on the couch. Anakin laughed as he shut the door and then looked at himself in the mirror. His skin was a bit sweaty and his eyes held dark patches under them.

He wasn’t kidding when he told you he had no idea how he was going to be able to sleep without you. After doing it for close to five years he had grown so used to having you next to him, he physically wasn’t able to sleep without you for too long. He had gotten maybe seventeen full hours of sleep in total since he left you behind in London, and it was beginning to show in his physical appearance.

Anakin really wanted to talk to you before he went to bed and he wanted to wish you luck on your first day of class. He had this whole hype speech somewhat planned out in his head, but he didn’t get the chance to say it to you.

He really hoped he could call you before you head off to school tomorrow as he felt like a bit of a bad boyfriend at the moment. You always supported him, always answered him and never missed a text. It really fucking sucked that he couldn’t do the same for you.

Luckily, Anakin wasn’t left feeling like a total asshole the next morning when he woke up from his three hour sleep and called you at around six. “Hi, Ani,” your sweet voice greeted him and he could tell you didn’t get too much sleep either. He knew you were nervous for this program, and he would do anything to be with you right now so he could wish you good luck in person.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he murmured, getting up from his bunk and quickly making his way to the door. He unlocks it and quietly steps off the bus that was parked next to a rest stop. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call you last night. I wanted to, but the show went late and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“That’s alright,” you say and he could hear you fumbling around with something in the background. “I figured you and the guys got caught up with something. It was a good show?”

Anakin leaned against the side of the bus, his eyes scanning the still dark surroundings. He would be two hours ahead of you soon, when he reached Finland, and he knew it would become harder to call you because of your chaotic schedules. “It was amazing,” he repeated his words from the prior night as he crossed his arm, gripping his bicep of the opposite one.

“I’m not surprised,” you teased. “You’re up early. I thought I’d get a call from you after my class is over later.”

“I wanted to be the first to wish you luck,” he said, hoping you wouldn’t bring up the topic of his awful sleep schedule.

You hummed. “Your effort was in vain, I’m afraid,” you laughed and the sound had him smiling. “Evan texted me a few seconds ago wishing the same thing.”

That had his smiling fading a bit. “Oh,”

You laughed again, a silence falling over the two of you afterwards.

Fuck, why did this suddenly feel awkward now? Why did he suddenly feel annoyed that he wasn’t the first person to wish you luck today? Why did he already dislike your new friend without even meeting the guy?

The silence didn’t last long, thankfully, but you did the exact thing he didn’t want you to do. “You sound tired, Ani,” your voice was soft, laced with worry and now he felt worse.

He didn’t want you worrying about him when you should be focused on your class that was scheduled in thirty minutes from now. “I’m fine, princess,” he brushed off your words, trying to hide how tired he sounded by clearing his throat afterwards.

Of course you didn’t let him off easy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Yes, mom,” he laughed. “It’s just hard to sleep without you, but I already knew that it would be. I’ll get more sleep later today. We still have a fifteen hour drive ahead of us and then another ten after that until we need to start soundcheck.”

You were quiet for a few seconds before you mumbled, “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard, Ani. You need to sleep more, you’re on stage almost every night, baby,”

Anakin sighed as he leaned his head back against the bus. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I’m fine, okay? I promise,” he tried to reassure you, but it was hard to do that when he was miles and miles away from you. He needed to change the subject, quickly. “I miss you.”

That seemed to do the trick. “I miss you, too,” you say back, your tone much happier now. “I gotta go soon, but we’ll talk later?”

“Of course,” was that even a question?

“Okay. Thank you for calling me, and for the luck,” you mumble. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said and waited for you to hang up before he dropped his hand back down to his side.

He stayed outside until the sun came up and he was fully awake with no chance of him going back to sleep for at least a few hours, knowing his sleep schedule was a lost cause without you here.

“Think of something or someone that makes you happy. It could be anything or anyone, but whatever or whoever it is has to have made some sort of impact on your life,” Kenneth Madsen, your instructor, ordered as he paced around the front of the room. “Could be a lover, a friend, a stranger, it could be your own bed. Whatever you choose, make sure it has a story behind it. Thank you all for a great first day, and I look forward to reading your pieces during tomorrow’s class. Remember to get a start on your short stories so they’re ready by the end of the program.”

That wasn’t so bad. The assignment is easy, too.

You close your books, making a mental note to refine your rushed scribbles later when you begin writing the assignment. As you stand up, you check your phone and see that it was nearing two PM. You could call Anakin as soon as you got back to your dorm and possibly talk to him for a lot longer than before, and the thought had you standing up quickly.

“Hey,” a somewhat familiar voice says, making you look up as you grab your book. Evan stood next to your chair, his dark brown hair covering his forehead and making his green eyes stand out a bit. A smile danced on his lips as he watched you shove your things into your bag.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back at him.

He moved out of the way, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him as he asked, “Did you have a good first day?”

“I did,” you answer as you and he walk side by side towards the doors. “I’m happy the instructor isn’t a total ass since he missed orientation day. He seems cool,”

“He is pretty cool. The assignment isn’t too bad, either,” Evan agreed, his accent slurring a few of the words, but you still understood him.

You nod, smiling at him again when he opens the door for you. “I thought the same thing,” you say as you and he step out onto the campus grounds. “When are you planning on working on it?”

“I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to work on ours together,” he offered, adjusting the strap of his bag as he looked down at you. “And after you can read mine and I can read yours.”

You pause. “Right now?”

He stopped walking as well. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Why? Are you busy?”

You chew on your lip as you look down at your phone, and at your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Anakin that was taken back during the first tour, and the sight of it had your heart aching a bit. “I was going to call Anakin once I got home,” you trail off, looking back up at Evan.

He nodded again. “Right, your boyfriend. Yeah, this distance thing must be pretty hard for both of you, huh? I can’t even imagine how tough it’d be to date someone who is literally on tour right now,” he grinned and started to walk away. “No worries, we’ll catch up later.”

Evan was so nice and now you’re starting to feel guilty for essentially blowing him off. “Wait, Evan,” you call after him, watching as he turns back around. “I can call him later, if your offer still stands.”

He laughed as he walked back over to you. “You mean the offer I gave you three seconds ago? Yes, it still stands,” he jokes and you laugh, too. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home and call him now?”

You pocket your phone as you shake your head. “He’s probably busy, or sleeping. He told me he was going to try to catch up on his sleep, so if that’s the case I don’t want to wake him,” you say as you walk next to him. “And I want to hang out with you.”

Evan looked away with a smile, bumping your arm gently with his elbow. “Well, in that case,” he glanced down at you as you neared the coffee shop you visited with him not too long ago. “Coffee?”

You find yourself agreeing and an hour later you are sitting at a bench on campus as you and Evan go over possible topics for the assignment. “What are you going to write about?” He asked as he wrote down another option for himself. “Or who?”

Lifting a brow, you give him a teasing smile as you answer. “Anakin, of course,”

Evan shakes his head, a smile dancing on his own lips as he looks up at you. “Of course,” he repeats your words. “Why did I even bother asking?”

“Beats me,” you shrug as you sip on your drink, nearly dropping it as you feel your phone begin to vibrate in your bag. You pull it out as Evan mumbles something under his breath, your smile widening as you hold up your phone. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Evan squints at the screen, shaking his head again with a grin. “You gonna answer that?”

You look at it, too, before clicking the power button and setting it aside. “No, I’ll call him later,” you say, glancing up at Evan when he remains silent. “What?”

“You can call him back now, if you want,” he said in a soft voice. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

Shaking your head, you flip open your book. “It’s fine. He’ll understand that I can’t talk right now because of a school thing,”

Evan nods and goes back to writing down random topics, but you were quickly beginning to regret not picking up Anakin’s call, but you also didn’t want to go back on your own words.

He’d understand, anyway. He had no reason not to.

Ani: Sorry, thought your class would be over by now. Call me when you can. Miss you.

You smile and turn your phone around so the screen is facing the surface of the table, knowing he wouldn’t be upset with you.

Anakin let out a groan of frustration as he tore out another page in his notebook. Helena had just finished her weekly lecture about needing to get more music out for the fans, and he was slowly starting to lose his mind.

He discovered that trying to write a song without you around was about as easy as it was to sleep without having you next to him. It was about fucking impossible.

He leaned back in the chair at the table of the tour bus, his hands reaching up to pull at his messy hair. Vinny was across from him and Theo was on the couch, both guys wearing weary looks at the state of their lead songwriter.

“You alright, man?” Vinny asked, crossing out his own stupid lyrics that he knew Anakin would never sing.

“Yeah,” he huffed, looking over at Vinny with a blank expression. “I’m great.”

Theo shook his head as he went back to writing down notes of the beat he was working on, tuning the two out as he got back into his own head.

“Maybe you should call Y/n,” Vinny suggested, flipping the page and starting over. “Might help inspire you.”

Anakin knew that just hearing your voice wouldn’t be enough for him to think of new lyrics, but he pulled out his phone anyway. He also just wanted to talk to you again. The brief call he shared with you this morning was just that, brief, and he missed you like crazy.

He may or may not also want to be the first person to ask you about how your first day went, since he wasn’t the first to wish you luck. Evan was.

He clicked on your contact and brought his phone up to his ear, looking over the weak attempts he had written in his book. He read over each one until he heard the sound of the call disconnecting and he felt immediately on alert.

Pulling his phone away, he looked at the screen and saw that you hadn’t missed his call, but ignored it. You actually clicked ignore call. What the fuck.

“Huh,” he said aloud as he stared at the screen until it turned black. He looked up at Vinny, who was already staring at him. “She ignored me.”

Vinny furrowed his brows. “Huh,” he echoed, giving him a reassuring wave of his hand afterwards. “She’s probably busy or still in school or something.”

Anakin wanted to say that your class should’ve ended an hour ago, but didn’t want to come off as pathetic for knowing your schedule. “Probably,” he agreed, setting his phone aside after sending you a quick text.

After Anakin finishes writing down a few dumb lines, Clara enters the bus with shopping bags that she promptly throws onto the couch next to Theo before she wraps her arms around Vinny. “Happy six months!” She says excitedly, looking at Anakin across the table. “I know it’s not five years like a certain someone over there will be celebrating soon, but fuck it, we’re celebrating.”

Vinny grins up at her and kisses her quickly. “Six months, huh? What’d you have in mind for us to do to celebrate?”

She hugged him a bit tighter from behind, kissing his cheek multiple times before saying, “Since we’ll be in Finland for a few days, maybe we can find a cute hotel? Nothing too fancy, just something we can have a little more privacy in,” she whispered the last part but Anakin still heard her and he was instantly reminded of the time last tour when he and you stayed in a hotel for one night and he ravished you as soon as you stepped through the door.

Clara added something about a nice restaurant she had heard of as Anakin grabbed his phone again and opened the Instagram app, his brows furrowing at the icon that showed you posted something to your story. Without thinking much, he clicked on it and felt his face heat up at the smiling face of, who is this, Evan? You had tagged him and set your location to the University of Dun-Walsh, and he saw that you had posted it ten minutes ago.

So you weren’t in class, and you had your phone with you, and you still hadn’t answered his text.

Anakin was not one of those obsessed and crazy boyfriends…well, maybe he was a bit obsessed with you, but he’s always been that way - still, he felt a bit annoyed at the fact that you had ignored both his call and his text because you are busy with Evan, but clearly not busy enough to not be able to post him on your story.

He was not one of those crazy boyfriends who gets mad when his girlfriend is hanging out with another guy, but he was a bit frustrated.

Scoffing, he scrolls through the app for a bit before getting a notification that Liz had messaged him through DM.

elizaphotography: hey :) i would’ve texted you but i don’t have your number. hint hint. anyway, we’ll be here for a few days so i was wondering if you were wanting to get out of that bus and have a night on the town with me. i need a night away from screaming fans and taking pictures and i heard about this club that is supposedly great. the guys are invited, too.

After reading that, his mood had lifted a bit and he glanced up at the guys. “Hey, Liz is asking if we want to go to a club tonight,” he said, getting the interest of Vinny and Theo, as well as Clara. “Said she needs a night out.”

“I do, too,” Theo mumbled as he set his guitar aside and tossed his book away. “I’m in.”

Vinny tore his eyes away from Theo and agreed as well, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “Me too,”

“Me three,” Clara added with a small smile.

Anakin nodded, looking back down at his phone as he typed a reply.

We’re so down, we all need a night off, too.

He sent it then stared at his screen for a few seconds, hesitating only a bit before he typed out his phone number and sent it to her as well.

“It doesn’t matter how young we were, or how young we still are, he has my entire heart and not a day goes by where I don’t think of him. We shouldn’t have gotten together, shouldn’t have even talked to each other as we had no reason to. He was the cool guy in band class who had no idea just how talented he truly was, and I was the nerd who would rather stay late after class and attend book club rather than go straight home,” you read the words you had typed not even half an hour ago, your nerves getting the best of you and making you stutter a bit. “But we did anyway. And I was his from that first second we spoke.”

You wait a few seconds before glancing up at Evan, who had an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes flickered all over your features as he remained silent, making you feel even more nervous.

Closing your laptop, you stand up quickly. “I know, it’s bad,”

Before you could run away, his hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist. “Damn, Y/n,” he huffed, making you raise a brow as you sat back down. Once he was sure you wouldn’t get up and run off, he released your hand and sat back in his chair, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth. “I might as well just drop out now.”

Your eyes widened a bit as a surprised laugh escaped you, settling back on your own chair. “What are you talking about?”

Evan gives you a pointed look. “That was amazing,” he said, making heat immediately rush to your face. “I don’t know why you doubt yourself, you’re an amazing writer. At the end, when Kenneth gets to pick a short story to send to his team, there’s no way he won’t pick yours.”

You blush more and shake your head, breaking eye contact with him. “That’s still three months away,” you point out. “That’s a long time, and I haven’t even decided on what I’m going to write about.”

Evan rolled his eyes as he shut his laptop and shoved it into his bag. “Just take the compliment, Y/n,” he laughed and stood up. “I’m serious, your piece is good. Kenneth will love it.”

You look up at him, a grateful smile on your lips. “Thank you,”

He smiled back as he grabbed his phone. “It’s getting late,” he noted as he pocketed it. “Can I walk you home?”

You nod and pack away your things before standing up and walking across campus side by side with Evan. “Thank you for today, it was fun,” you say as you stand outside your dorm. “I’m really glad to have you here with me. It’s not so lonely because of you.”

Evan grins at you, reaching one arm out and hugging you once you stepped into his embrace. “The feeling is mutual,” he says and pulls away. “Promise.”

You shake your head as you grab your keys. “See you tomorrow?”

He nods. “If I can get my assignment done in the next three hours,” he joked and walked away.

You watch him for a few seconds before entering your room, tossing your bag onto your bed and grabbing your phone. “Shit,” you mumble when you realize that you never actually got back to Anakin.

Bailey, your roommate, walks in just as you raise your phone to your ear, and she gives you a smile as she quietly shuts the door behind her. “Hey,” she mouths, dropping her own bag onto her bed.

“Hi,” you say back as you listen to the phone ring a few times before it connected.

“Princess,” came Anakin’s voice. It was slurred a bit and you could hear loud music in the back, making your brows lift slightly. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Ani,” you say, unsure if he could even hear you. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier, I got held up with something…are you at a party right now?”

There was a beat or two of just music before he answered. “A club, actually,”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” and then he went quiet again for a few seconds. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

You nod even though he couldn’t see you, and you could feel Bailey’s gaze on you. “Okay, well, I feel bad about it, so I just wanted to call and see what you were up to,”

“Don’t feel bad,” he brushed you off, making your face fall a bit at how dismissive he sounded. “I gotta go, baby, I can barely hear you. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, giving your roommate a reassuring smile when you notice her look of concern. “I love you.”

“You too,” he said and then the call ended.

Your heart skipped a beat at how quick that call was, and you dropped your hand with a quiet scoff. Part of you wished he left the club and stood outside of it to talk to you for a few more minutes, but he already sounded drunk. He must’ve been there for a while now, but you still felt a little hurt that he ended it so soon.

“You okay?” Bailey asked as she grabbed her bin for the shower.

While you didn’t know her very well, she seemed nice enough. You were sure you and her would become a lot closer the longer you roomed together, but for now you didn’t feel the need to tell her about your concerns. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, smiling afterwards for good measure.

“Okay,” she smiled back, grabbing a towel. “I’m off to the showers.”

You nod and watch as she leaves the room again before looking back down at your phone. Chewing on your bottom lip, you type out a quick text before moving back against your headboard and grabbing your laptop, suddenly feeling inspired enough to start your short story.

Princess: I hope you’re having fun, Ani. I’m sorry again. I love you.

Anakin didn’t answer you and pocketed his phone before downing his third shot of the night. Liz was next to him at the bar while Vinny and Clara were off dancing, and Theo was a few stools down. “Hey,” she called over the loud music, making him lean closer to her in order to hear her better. “Have you ever gotten high?”

Anakin shook his head, the fast movement making his already dizzy head spin a bit more. “No, never,”

“Never?” She asked, shock lacing her tone as she took out a plastic bag from her purse. “Wow, your girlfriend really kept you on a short leash, huh?”

“I guess,” he said without really thinking over his words. “What is that?”

“Just a little something to make this night even more fun,” she smirked.

“How did you even get that in here?” He asked as she opened the bag and took out one of the little pills. “We were checked at the doors.”

She shrugged, “I have my ways. Want one?”

Anakin looked at the pill she held up, a teasing smile on her red lips and her brow raised. “No,” he shook his head, watching as she shrugged again and placed the pill on her tongue.

“Suit yourself,” she said as she put the bag back in her purse. “Dance with me.”

He couldn’t say anything before she grabbed his hand and another drink as she guided him towards the middle of the club. The place was packed and Anakin kept a firm hold on her hand as she made her way through the crowd of drunk people, still worried about her getting separated even in his near-drunk state.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and he kept his at his sides, making Liz roll her eyes. “Come on, Anakin,” she said over the music. “Dancing with me isn’t cheating.”

She held the drink up to his lips and he took more than a few sips from it before she finished it off and set it on a nearby table.

“Dance with me,” she said again, guiding his hands up until they were on her hips. “Have fun.”

Anakin squeezed her waist a bit as he felt his head spin from all the drinks he had before this. She moved their bodies to the music, a proud smirk on her lips as she slid her hands up and gripped his hair.

If he closed his eyes and let himself get lost inside his own head, he could imagine that it was you who he’s dancing with, and that it was your body that is pressed to his. Your hands that are tangled in his hair, pulling on it in the way you knew he loved.

She jumped and swayed against him, a laugh leaving her mouth at the dazed expression in his eyes. He had no idea how long they did that before she stilled her body and stared at him.

Liz leaned up and teased his lips with the tip of her nose before she turned around and pressed her back against his front. Her hands cover his that were still on her hips as she subtly ground back against him, making Anakin jolt back a bit at the same time Vinny slaps him lightly on his shoulder. “Hey, man,” he called out. “You doing okay? You seem a bit…wasted.”

Vinny eyed Liz, who just gave him an innocent smile as she reached up to fix her hair. “I think I am,” Anakin answered and Vinny nodded, wrapping his arm tighter around Clara’s waist.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” he said, mainly to Liz. “Come on, Anakin.”

Vinny took his forearm and began to pull Anakin towards the exit. “Are you coming?” Anakin asked Liz, who just shook her head.

“My nights just begun,” she said before Vinny fully tugged him away from her, nodding at Theo on his way out.

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