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yikimiki · 5 months

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>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

#sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna angst #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #ryomen sukuna #smut #jjk smut

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the-likesofus · 27 days

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Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend.

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There) by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again.

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family.

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious.

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD.

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC!

#buddie #buddie fic recs #buddie fic rec list 5 #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911 #911 fic recs #meegs rec list

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infamous-if · 5 months

Text

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

#update #December update #Amy the chatterbox

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torukmaktoskxawng · 8 months

Text

tsamsiyu ta'em - strangers like me

Masterlist - part ten

Summary: Kayla continues to learn about island life with the Metkayina and also learns a bit more about her teachers along the way. Tonowari and Ronal find their student strange and intriguing.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 6k+

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings tojisleftarm andyfromku @ivysully

A/N: I am so sorry for my absence! I wish I have a good excuse for being absent, but the truth is I'm not doing so hot in the real world rn. My job is cutting back hours and I barely have enough for rent. I'm getting a second job next month so hopefully, things smoothen out.

Here is the long-awaited update that I will kick myself for delaying in exchange for obsessively crying over Good Omens Season 2. Let the montage of Awa'atlu life commence! Again, thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Note: The title is named after the Phil Collins song "Strangers Like Me" because Tarzan and Avatar just go together XD

To avoid having Ronal hunt her down again, Kayla got up earlier the next morning and made her way back to the village to join her brother's family for breakfast before her lessons. Kiri was definitely doing better and Tuk was excited that her aunt had decided to see them off before their busy days. After pleasant conversations and the promise to meet before their midday meal, the kids took off to pursue whatever they planned for the day. Kayla stood up with the intention of going to find either the tsahik or the olo'eyktan and so Jake walked her out of the marui as they talked.

"So Neteyam mentioned that you guys talked about what happened between Lo'ak and Ao'nung," Jake started off.

'Oh, boy, here we go,' Kayla thought as she tilted her head to glance back at him, feigning partial innocence, "Yes? What about it?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to let you know that it's already been handled, and it sounds like the boys are actually getting along now. Neteyam also mentioned that you didn't get to meet Ao'nung yesterday so I wanted to make sure you knew this before you went looking for a fight with the kid."

"Jake, how young do you think I am?" When his face twisted with hesitance, she rolled her eyes, "Don't answer that. What I'm trying to say is that I'm not a child, I'm older than I look, and believe it or not, I do realize this. You don't have to worry about me... but you could've been a little nicer to Lo'ak."

Jake refrained from also rolling his eyes, knowing his sister would say this. He wasn't blind. He was well aware that Kayla would always be quick to defend his youngest son, no matter what he did. Jake was half-convinced that Lo'ak could get away with murder as far as his aunt was concerned, "He knew he wasn't allowed to go beyond the reef but he went anyway. He was at fault as much as Ao'nung."

"I get that, but it feels as though Lo'ak received more punishment than the boys who actually put him in danger, and for what?"

"For picking fights."

"No, for defending his sister," her eyes narrowed, "Not that you would know what that means."

Jake took the verbal lashing in stride, internally sighing, "I can't punish the chief's son for what he does against my kids, Kayla."

At first, Kayla had every intention of cursing her brother out, but instead paused and tried rephrasing her response. Her eyes drifted to the reef while she recalled far-off memories, "I remember Mom and Dad were allowed to punish the neighbor kids if they misbehaved with us and no one would bat an eye."

The mention of his old life irked him, and he wasn't afraid to show that in his deep snarl, "Well, Mom and Dad aren't here and we're not on Earth," her posture visibly stiffens but doesn't interrupt. Jake's wave of anger is immediately replaced with guilt, so he opts in taking a breath before he could say anything else he might come to regret, "Things are different here. So be civil and keep the peace. Don't go picking fights with teenagers."

"I won't," she mutters darkly, the coldness in her eyes returning as she side-eyes him, reminding Jake that he still wasn't out of the storm regarding her, "That's what you're here for."

She doesn't stay long enough to hear whatever rebuttal he might have in mind. Instead, she walks down the pathways leading further into the village before calling back, "I'll see you later."

Tail lowered in distress and possibly shame, Jake could only turn back to the marui and try to go about his day as he normally would. He knew he deserved the petty insults and his sister's aggression toward him, especially after all the radio silence she had endured for months while he was here experiencing a new way of life, on top of everything else. He just wished Kayla could manage to let go of all the pain and anger like he did when he first began to learn the ways of the Omatikaya. Physically, Kayla's avatar hasn't changed apart from the new Na'vi trinkets she had added to her standard-issued cargo shorts and crop top. However, Jake had hoped her mentality toward him would change the more she learned how to be Na'vi.

He knew he was a fool to get his hopes up so soon.

Walking through the village, Kayla went down the same route Ronal had brought her yesterday, hoping she would catch sight of the tsahik. Again, there were some stares from the Metkayina, but they didn't last as long as the day before and the reef people didn't look as bothered by her appearance. The Na'vi go about their day without much acknowledgment to Kayla, and before she knew it, she had made it to her destination, the craft huts she had met Tsireya just the other day.

It wasn't hard to find Ronal among the crowd of mottled skin patterns. Her accessories, tattoos, and rounded stomach are a dead giveaway, and the tsahik easily found Kayla in the crowd in turn, though it wasn't as hard, given the circumstances. Ronal's eyes visibly squint when her gaze lands on Kayla, then the Na'vi woman pulls away from her task to rise and meet the avatar. Another Na'vi stands to join her, a teenage boy and Kayla had an inkling who it was.

When Ronal approached Kayla, she motioned to the boy behind her, "My son, Ao'nung."

Smiling timidly, Kayla greets Ao'nung as respectfully as possible, though even she could admit her smile was tighter than usual. Ao'nung didn't say a word back, instead deciding to simply nod and avoid eye contact. His ears drooped and his head lowered like this was torture for him. Clearly, he was being coerced into being here with Kayla, but she decided not to fault him for it. Perhaps he's already being punished enough for his wrongdoings that he didn't need Kayla to torture him further about it.

Ronal doesn't appear to notice nor care for Ao'nung's discomfort and sternly stated to Kayla, "We will be teaching you how to communicate underwater. Do not fall behind or you will be left behind."

Kayla refrains from the small smile that threatened to escape her. Ronal's words vaguely reminded her of Neytiri's way of teaching Jake both from the stories she heard and the video log Jake had recorded. As Jake had once phrased it, 'Learn fast or die.'

With that in mind, Kayla doesn't complain and silently follows Ronal and Ao'nung away from the craft huts and further down the pathways. It didn't take long before they brought their guest to a large marui. It wasn't as big as the communal pod for the feasts, but it was significantly taller and wider than the normal ones Kayla has seen, including the Sullys' marui. She took note of the different colors of weaving and decorations adorning the home, such as the totem and skimwing skull hanging over the front entrance in greeting, a small windchime of shells softly dancing in the warm breeze. If Kayla had to guess, this was the olo'eyktan and tsahik's pod. Soon after stepping inside, both Ronal and Ao'nung lower to the ground, sitting back on their legs and Kayla does the same, proceeding to listen as Ronal starts off the lesson.

Nothing eventful happened as Kayla learned the Metkayina equivalent of sign language. Ao'nung never said a word regarding Lo'ak or any incident that happened with Kayla's nieces and nephews prior to her arrival. In fact, Ao'nung didn't say a whole lot other than chiming in a time or two to help Kayla with the lesson. Perhaps he never said a word outside of the subject of his people's sign language because his mother had been giving him sharp looks throughout the whole lesson. It was hard to miss. Ronal wasn't exactly a subtle creature. She openly expressed whatever she was feeling, unafraid of hurting someone's feelings, not even her son's, it would seem.

It was amusing to find all the similarities between the mother and son, both physically and spiritually. Their glare, eyes, and even their pout were the same. Kayla even dared herself to look a little closer without getting caught and noticed that Ao'nung inherited the same mole as his mother's, both spots found above their lip, on the top right side.

She must have lost track in time as the suns rose higher in the sky. Before she knew it, her next teacher had shown up to take her to her next destination. Tonowari stepped up into the marui, his large frame blocking the majority of the light coming in through the entryway. His gaze brushes over Kayla and Ao'nung before his eyes land on the tsahik, "Ma Ronal. Is this a good time?"

One of Kayla's ear flick to the side at the term of endearment, glancing over to the woman in question who only firmly nods and stares back at Kayla, "Go on. My mate will continue your riding lessons from yesterday."

Kayla mutters her thanks and stands up to join Tonowari. As they turn toward the exit, the olo'eyktan points back to his son, "Ao'nung. Remain with your mother."

"But, Father--"

"Do not question me, boy," the tone in Tonowari's voice was a little louder and stronger than normal, and even Kayla could feel her spine straightening up, despite not being under his scrutiny. Kayla briefly glances back at Ao'nung and notes the way he shrinks in on himself, still unable to look her in the eye, clearly embarrassed. Kayla looks away and follows Tonowari out of the marui, shadowing his footsteps as he addresses her, "I apologize for my son."

For the moment, Kayla had the empathy to pity the teenager and decided to soften the blow against Ao'nung, "There's nothing to apologize for. He was a pleasant enough teacher."

His voice had reverted back to its normal tone, significantly smoother and kinder on the ears, "Did you learn well?"

"I think so. It's not that different compared to what the Sky People have," when he flashed a questioning glance over his shoulder at her, she further explained, "They have a language that requires hand motions, too."

He doesn't question it further, instead looking back ahead and leading Kayla down to the docks. The ilu anxiously await their arrival in the water below, clicking and calling excitedly as Tonowari pulls a harness over one of their heads. The two adults get into the water and stand beside the earnest ilu, Tonowari trying to calm the creature whilst Kayla makes tsaheylu. She mounts the creature with ease, remembering yesterday's lesson and dreading the idea of falling off again as Tonowari begins reassuring her, "You need to exude confidence. Tell the ilu that you will command them and you will be respected by them. Do not give them space to come up with their own ideas."

She takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and nodded, waiting until Tonowari steps away before commanding the ilu to move forward using only the bond connecting them to each other's thoughts. The creature obliges and all appears to be going smoothly. Kayla manages to instruct the ilu to swim faster before eventually sinking underneath the water's surface. The ilu picks up speed and even as she clings on for dear life, Kayla could already feel her grip loosening. Angry and determined, Kayla tightens her thighs around the saddle of the creature and demands her bonded steed to leap out of the water and let her breathe, no room for nonsense.

To her shock and delight, the ilu chirped happily and sprung out of the water like a bullet, briefly flying through the air and allowing Kayla to take a breath before diving back in. She was so shocked that she almost lost her grip before regaining composure and asking the ilu to do it again, in case she had only imagined her success. The ilu was ecstatic to leap out of the water again and did so without a fuss, and this time, Kayla laughed as the shock wore off.

On the surface, the woman is met with a small audience. Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Tsireya were out riding their own respective ilu that afternoon before briefly pausing to watch a school of fish swim all around them, tickling their feet. Just as Kayla appeared to finally be getting the hang of riding an ilu, the teenagers caught notice of her as well. Lo'ak is the first to spot her, cupping his hands over his mouth as he crows in encouragement, "Go, Auntie! Woo-hoo! Yeah! You got it!"

Kayla laughs as Neteyam and Tesireya begin to cheer her on as well, their voices carried by the winds as Kayla and her ilu dive into the water and back out again. By the time Kayla remembered herself and returned to her teacher, Tonowari had his arms crossed but otherwise appeared pleased by her improvement, tail leisurely swaying behind him with curiosity.

~~~~~~~~~

Weeks go by since Kayla first arrived in Awa'atlu, and despite having to adapt to yet another completely different culture, Kayla had to admit that it was getting easier as time went on. She originally thought the ways of the Metkayina were a cakewalk compared to the Omatikaya, but maybe it was because she learned from the Forest People first that made learning from the Reef People easier than she originally thought it would.

She makes sure to reiterate this to Norm and the other humans every time she sees them. When everyone in Awa'atlu is meant to be resting, Kayla retreats to her campsite and secures her avatar form before closing her eyes and breaking the neural link. The next time she opens her eyes, it's within the link gurney back at High Camp. Norm and Max are always there to greet her, asking about her headaches and other health problems. There were days even Kayla had to admit were rough. After spending so much time in her avatar form, it's starting to strain the link connecting herself to her human form and it causes massive headaches every time she breaks a new record of not reporting back for days on end. To distract her friends from lecturing her, Kayla just updates everyone on Kiri's condition and relays any messages Jake or the rest of the Sully family wanted her to bring. In return, the scientists or even the Na'vi, such as Txe'la and Meui, would update her on any information regarding Ardmore or any Sky People activity.

She's always left disappointed when they say the same thing. No one has seen Spider.

Trying not to let the news discourage her, Kayla always wakes back up in her avatar form in better spirits so as not to worry Jake and his family. Kayla continues to treat the days as normal, continuing her lessons and helping out in any way she can so as not to overstay her welcome. When she wasn't following Tonowari or Ronal around, Kayla was usually in the company of her nieces, nephews, and their new friends.

Tsireya was one of those friends, and she was such a sweet girl who would happily entertain Kayla in any endeavor. When she wasn't busy, one of Kayla's favorite pastimes was helping Tuk and Tsireya find seashells for their hair and any jewelry idea they had in mind. Tsireya, as Tuk said, knew all the best spots where the shells were always fully intact and not crushed into pieces by the harsh tides. During these little adventures, Kayla, Tuk, and Tsireya would learn more about each other, bonding over the fact that they were all their families' younger sisters.

The sign language was easier than the verbal language, but Kayla felt as though she had a rug pulled from beneath her feet when Ronal knowingly stated that she was going to be teaching her student a third language. The tsahik, with the help of other Metkayina, began to teach Kayla the language of the tulkun, the sea creature Kayla learned to be the spiritual animal and companion to the Reef People, as the ikran is to Forest People. Apparently, not even Kayla's nieces and nephews have progressed as far as learning the tulkun language yet, and they became ecstatic to realize that they would be learning this alongside their aunt. Joining Ronal in these lessons with Kayla and the Sully kids would also be Tsireya and Rotxo, which only excited the forest kids more. Ronal wasn't as pleased with her own student when she caught Kayla fondly watching the children interact more than once.

Kayla had to learn this extra language on top of her breathing lessons, the latter of which was taught by both Tonowari and Ronal. Sometimes they would teach her separately, and other times they would do so together, but whatever the case may be, it didn't matter to Kayla. She would carefully listen to whoever was teaching her, and sometimes she listened so intently that she caught herself observing her teachers a little too closely.

Like Tonowari's eyes for example. Kayla noted they were a light blue at first as she sat cross-legged across from him while they practiced breathing exercises. But upon closer inspection, Kayla noticed specks of green engulfed by those blue orbs, like clumps of islands surrounded by warm sparkling oceans.

He was a clenched fist with a gentle touch. Kayla greatly admired him for being someone who could easily take advantage of his strength and position above his people but chooses to be kind and soft-spoken instead.

It was fascinating for Kayla to see just how different the Metkayinas' eyes were compared to the Omatikayas'. Whereas every Na'vi of the Forest had orange or yellow cat-like eyes, the ones who live off of the reef had rounder and bigger eyes, not to mention they had a variety of different shapes, sizes, and colors.

Like Ronal's eyes. The opposite of her mate's, Kayla noted that Ronal's eyes were more green than blue, with specks of a warm, gold color, like a sunset reflecting off the ocean surface.

She was orphic, but that's as far as Kayla allowed herself to describe the tsahik.

There was plenty to say about Ronal, but Kayla thought it best not to linger on any of the words bouncing around in her head. It was clear to her that the tsahik will always disapprove of Kayla and her presence among the Metkayina, so Kayla didn't want to compliment the Na'vi woman too much, especially since she doesn't intend on staying for very long.

Her stay was still very much temporary, at least in Kayla's eyes, as she still intends on going back to the forest to find Spider. For now, however, she was content with her small campsite just inside the treeline of the Metkayina island, a campsite that Ronal appears to disapprove of along with everything else about Kayla. The tsahik still has to occasionally venture out and find Kayla among the trees if she is in need of the avatar woman, like today when Ronal had the mind to take the time to find Kayla. It wasn't hard since the demon had kept her promise and never moved her campsite so she would be right where Ronal could find her. Still, Kayla was apologetic when Ronal found her and the tsahik begrudgingly told the foreigner to follow her back to the village.

Ronal brings her to the shoreline and recruits her to help fix an ilu pen that had begun to wither with age. Tonowari was already hard at work on it and briefly looked up to greet the two women when they sat down on the edge of the pathway and gracefully slipped into the water with him. After a brief instruction from him, Kayla gets to work in silence, and Ronal isn't opposed to doing the same. The silence wasn't as awkward as they were in the past, but out of the corner of her eye, Kayla could clearly see that something was bothering the tsahik, as Ronal wasn't ashamed of openly frowning while watching Kayla work. She didn't appear to be glaring in disapproval, but she looked... frustrated. It was as if she was trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. Kayla briefly glanced at the Na'vi positioned on the other side of her and noticed that Tonowari was much more subtle than his mate. Unlike Ronal, he only snuck glances at Kayla and her work here and there and did his best to hide whatever expression was on his face.

"Am I doing it wrong?"

"No. You're doing well," a compliment was not what she was expecting and it shows as Kayla's ears perk up and her eyes briefly widen. Ronal pointedly ignores the reaction and blatantly asks, "Why do you not stay with your brother's family at night?"

Kayla looked at Ronal, nose scrunched slightly in confusion, all the while completely unaware of the stare Tonowari sent to his mate from above Kayla's head, "Why would I?"

"Group sleep is also customary in the Metkayina."

"What's a group sleep?"

By Eywa, did the Omatikaya teach this alien woman anything? Ronal huffs out an irritated sigh, "Families sleep in large groups, usually in their swaynivi. Some clan members will sleep alone or with their mate just as long as they return to their family's nivi in a short period of time. Otherwise, they're deemed spiritually unhealthy. It is unsafe for one to sleep alone."

"I see," Kayla's ears pin back and her posture straightens, understanding the question now while pointedly staring down at her work on weaving the ilu pen together instead of addressing Ronal, "Well, where I'm from, that's called an invasion of privacy. I would assume that the families who sleep in large groups mostly contain parents and their children, correct?"

She doesn't wait for a response as she further explains with a small distaste in her mouth, "Since I'm neither of those, I don't want to invade my brother's and his children's privacy. Thank you for your concern, but I've been alone for a very long time. I can assure you that I am just fine with the sleeping arrangements I have now."

Even Ronal can sense a dismissal when she hears it in Kayla's voice. It was clear that the alien woman didn't want to further discuss this topic and so the tsahik didn't push it. Returning to her work, Ronal now briefly shared a glance with Tonowari but he pointedly kept his mouth closed during the whole conversation and after.

Luckily, the silence is saved by Neteyam as the teenager arrives with a purpose, slightly bouncing over the pathways above the adults' heads, "Auntie. My father is looking for you."

Kayla's discomfort visibly melts before Tonowari and Ronal's eyes. She looks up and smiles at the Na'vi boy, "Tell your father he can come and get me himself next time instead of sending you out. You should be elsewhere, enjoying the reefs and hunting with your friends."

She briefly turned back to the clan leaders, silently asking for approval to leave with her eyes flicking between the two Metkayina. Both nodded and openly watch as Kayla turns back to Neteyam, smiling up at her nephew as she rises up onto the pathway and follows him out, gently shoving him once to get him to pick up the pace so she didn't trip on his heels.

Neteyam huffed a small laugh as they walked, but the sound falls in replace of shame. He was visibly acting a little shy as he avoided eye contact, "I am sorry that I told my father about our conversation. I should have asked for your permission."

"Hey, no harm," she nudged him, "It's not like our talks are meant to be a secret or anything. It's nice that you can trust your father with everything; trust him enough to talk about whatever you want. As long as you're comfortable, kiddo."

"Was your father not like that?"

Kayla bit her tongue to refrain from visibly wincing, staring directly ahead instead of at her nephew, "No. I don't think he was. Not from what I can remember. Mostly I relied on Tommy and your dad growing up."

"What was my father like as an older brother? Am I like him?"

Kayla briefly grew quiet as they walked, pondering about how she could best word this to her oldest nephew. She tried seeing Jake in Neteyam, she really did, but whenever she tried comparing the teenager's best traits, they only remind her of Neytiri. And when Kayla thinks about Jake, all the pain and other torture he had put her through both intentionally and by accident, she couldn't even fathom Neteyam doing the same thing to his own siblings. Physically and mentally, deep down she knew that Neteyam was nothing like his father, and she was secretly grateful for that.

So instead of agreeing, Kayla simply smiled while staring the teenager in the eyes so he could see her sincerity, "No, 'Teyam. You're like Tommy. He was the older brother. When it comes to how you treat your siblings, you remind me of him, and I think your father sees it, too."

~~~~~~~~~

When Ronal isn't busy with her duties as tsahik or teaching Kayla, she is making sure Neytiri also adapts to their way of life. Although the former tsakarem had been comfortably accustomed to island life by the time her sister-in-law joined her family, Ronal still takes Neytiri into the jungle for a second pair of hands to gather the needed plants and herbs for her stock. Today was no different as the two women stumbled across a large jungle tree, larger than any of the others around them. Instead of following Ronal's suggestion to skip this tree and its healing fruits in exchange for a shorter one, Neytiri stops and shakes her head. Ronal was adamant about moving on since she was in no condition to climb and wasn't built to climb trees even if she wasn't currently pregnant.

Neytiri still shook her head in defiance and simply said, "You need Forest People."

The Forest woman opens her mouth and calls out at the top of her lungs, causing Ronal's ears to twitch in response to her whooping and cawing. Notifying her family about her location, it didn't take long for Jake, Kayla, and all the Sully children to come running to Neytiri's call.

Neytiri proudly smiles at her family while explaining why they had been summoned, "Our tsahik needs the fruit from the top of this tree and the ones surrounding it."

The others take a moment to look at one another before Kayla breaks the silence, briefly tapping Tuk's shoulder before running off, "'Last one to the top is a rotten egg!"

Tuk squeals and immediately chases after her aunt. The older Sully kids smile and break into fits of laughter, following suit and running after Kayla and their little sister. They all leap up, grabbing onto the lower branches before lifting themselves up, climbing expertly higher without their arms protesting the weight of their bodies. Ronal watched them climb higher and higher, keeping her expression stoic while observing the way Kayla makes the collecting and scavenging into a game for her nieces and nephews, challenging them to see who can gather the most fruit. In the corner of her eye, Ronal could still see Neytiri standing beside her, also watching the trees and smiling fondly up at her family. Jake soon stands beside his wife, hands on his hips while watching his sister and his children with a careful eye.

It was then did Ronal address Toruk Makto directly, flashing a face of disapproval, "Does your sister always act so childish?"

Jake's posture stiffens and he struggles to find the right words under the tsahik's watchful eye, "Well-! Uh..."

"No, only with the children," Neytiri answers for him, eyes hardened when they meet Ronal's as if daring her to speak again, "She plays with them because she wants to remind them that they are still just that. Children."

~~~~~~~~~

Kiri woke up bothered about something and everyone could tell. That girl didn't know how to hide her feelings no matter how badly she wanted to, the definition of an open book. Even though no one knew why she was upset, they could clearly tell that whatever it was, it had something to do with her aunt. Kiri wasn't necessarily cold to Kayla, but the teenager would go quiet and only speak in one-word responses whenever the older woman spoke directly to her.

Kayla decided that she needed to fix whatever was going on between herself and her oldest niece, so she offered to take the children out as the afternoon slipped into the evening. Neytiri suggested bringing them swimming through the reefs to collect barnacles and other underwater plants for tonight's supper, a passing time a lot of the villagers tend to do. Kayla takes up the idea and presents it to the Sully kids, who all agree to go, some more enthusiastic than others.

Tuk immediately splashes into the water and her brothers chase after her. Meanwhile, Kayla and Kiri linger on the beach, watching them disappear into the ocean. Kayla had tried breaking the tension with a small smile, "So when are you gonna show me how to use those underwater fairy wings?"

She was hoping for a small laugh or even a smile, but Kiri does neither. Instead, she looks sad and distracted, looking out over the horizon where the sky meets the sea, daydreaming of other lands... of home. Kayla bravely touches the girl's shoulder, and when Kiri looks up, her aunt could see the concern plain on her face. The avatar woman squeezes Kiri's shoulder, "What is it?"

Kiri bites the inside of her cheek before giving in, letting out a small sigh, "When are you going back to the forest?" She quickly understands how that could easily be misinterpreted and corrects herself, "It's just that-- you promised you'd look for Spider. And yet, you're here and he still hasn't been found yet."

Kayla relaxes both in posture and touch, removing her hand from Kiri's shoulder and instead letting it fall to her side, "I'll likely be gone by the end of the week, but for Norm's peace of mind, I'm going to be running a few tests on you so he and I both know you'll be okay," silence follows and Kayla reaches out once more, letting her hand gently grasp Kiri's arm, "Kiri, look at me."

The teen does so, a little belligerent at first. Upon staring up at her aunt, Kiri could see the determination in her eyes that closely matched Kiri's father's. Kayla tilts her head down to try and stand more at Kiri's height before softly explaining, "I haven't given up. And you might find it pointless to keep an eye on you after what happened, but I don't, and I don't think Spider would either. Think about it, kiddo. Spider would want us to make sure you're alright before we ever went looking for him."

Kiri ducks her head and watches her toe make shapes in the sand beneath her feet, "I know... but that doesn't mean I have to like it. He deserves to be put first for once."

Silence lingers between the two of them before Kayla simply says, "You're right."

Kiri doesn't wanna look up to see whatever expression was on her aunt's face. Instead, Kiri takes her arm and drags her to the water, "Come."

"'Where we going?"

"You said you wanted to learn how to use a txampaysye."

Kayla's nose scrunched up, testing the word on her tongue with bitterness, "How do you even spell that??"

Kiri manages to loosen up and laugh before they both held their breath and sank down into the water, sinking until they joined the rest of the Sully children. They introduce Kayla to txampaysye -gill mantle- and instruct her on how to use it in order to breathe underwater. Kayla wasn't far off. The gill mantles really did look like fairy wings, but other than maybe a few comments or stories, none of the Na'vi children would know what exactly a fairy was. The children and their aunt spend the evening doing as Neytiri suggested, gathering underwater plants and barnacles alongside other Metkayina, most of whom all wore the txampaysye. By the time the communal dinner rolled around, the Sully family was exhausted, but content all the same.

~~~~~~~~~

A peaceful morning where the Sullys invite Kayla over for breakfast goes uneventful until they're rolling up their nivi after a good night's rest. Their peace is interrupted by a horn, followed by whoops and hollers of celebration coming from outside. Confused and on edge, Jake and the kids emerge from the marui, looking around as the Metkayina jump around and dive into the water, making the newcomers curious as to what was going on.

Their answer came in the form of Tsireya, astride an ilu as she waved down her people from the water below their homes, "The tulkun have returned! Everybody! Our Brothers and Sisters have returned!"

Kayla looked up toward the atoll wall protecting the village from less docile nature. Emerging from the tunnels and pathways underneath the wall were rolling waves indicating something large below the water. Spurts of seaspray spring out like geysers from beneath the ocean's surface. It was a large pod of whale-like creatures, massive and slow. Their descent onto the village was graceful and one that brought much joy to the Metkayina as they couldn't get in the water fast enough.

The Sully kids couldn't wait either, jumping from the walkway around their home and into the water below. They scatter, exploring the new creatures one way or another. Tsireya had grabbed Lo'ak when she spotted him and pulled him onto her ilu, swimming away to introduce him to her Spirit Sister. Jake summoned his tsurak and both he and Neytiri take off to observe the sacred animals themselves. Rotxo had come around and pulled Kiri and Tuk away too, leaving Neteyam and Kayla to wander. Ao'nung was not far behind his friend, however, and invited Neteyam to come along with him to find his own Spirit Brother. Earning a small reassurance from his aunt, Neteyam doesn't hesitate to jump in and both teenagers each grab an ilu and take off, making a game of chase with Ao'nung in the lead.

Neteyam kept close to Ao'nung the entire time. The chief's son leads Neteyam through the chaos expertly, the two of them swimming quickly around a particular tulkun. Kiri, Tuk, and Rotxo were hanging onto the bull's fin and gliding peacefully through the water, the tulkun likely the reef boy's Spirit Brother. Neteyam was only able to catch a glimpse of this as they swim by, keeping close to Ao'nung's tail and playfully chasing him.

Jake had been leisurely swimming his skimwing through the maze of tulkun and Metkayina before glancing off to the side and perking up. Reaching back and tapping Neytiri's thigh to grab her attention, he waits until her eyes are on him before pointing out the sight he stumbled across. Following her husband's gaze and finger, Neytiri spots a mother tulkun and her calf, the smaller whale-like creature keeping close, mostly under its mother's fin or belly. Neytiri smiled with delight, her heart melting at the picture.

Kayla had been floating above the surface, watching the vast sight of tulkun from up top the back of an ilu she had successfully summoned. She didn't venture very far until the olo'eyktan sought her out. She noticed his tsurak first, flying above her head before gracefully sinking into the water, folding in its webbed fins. Tonowari brings it back around and swims up to Kayla's side, a determined smile on his lips, "We must put all that you learned to the test. Come meet my Spirit Brother and see how well you can understand and communicate with him."

She nods and dutifully follows him into the water after taking a deep breath. They submerge and take off, weaving through and around the large bodies of tulkun, dodging other ilu and Na'vi while Tonowari keeps his pace slow for Kayla's ilu to catch up. Underwater, Kayla can get a better look at the tulkun, and to her amazement, she realized that most of them were tattooed like their respective Na'vi. Eventually, they come across a large bull and Tonowari slows to a complete stop, disengaging from his tsurak and openly swimming the rest of the way to the heavily tattooed tulkun male. Kayla disengages from her ilu and watches it swim away before swimming in the same direction as the olo'eyktan, keeping a small bit of distance while he approaches the tulkun, greeting it like an old friend with a wide smile before gesturing Kayla to come closer.

When Kayla swims close enough to float near the large eye of the creature, Tonowari motions to the bull and makes rapid hand movements, "This Makayla te Suli tsmuke te Toruk Makto. She is of the Forest People and has come to learn our ways."

"Greetings, Makayla te Suli." The tulkun sings, and Kayla is delighted that she can understand him.

She quickly signs back, just as she had practiced, "I See you, great and mighty tulkun."

"Have you learned much since your arrival?"

"Yes, many things. I have excellent teachers in the olo'eyktan and the tsahik."

"Indeed. You are in good hands with my Brother and his mate. Ro'a speaks highly of her."

Curious, Kayla turns to the olo'eyktan in question, hands slowed by the water as she asks through the Metkayina sign language, "Is Ro'a Ronal's Spirit Sister?"

Tonowari nods while further explaining with his hands, "Yes, and I believe Ro'a has just given birth to her first calf."

"Indeed." The tulkun calls softly, the beautiful sound muffled in Kayla's ears like a song trying to pierce through cotton, "We are very proud and happy for our sister. What of Ronal's child?"

Tonowari beams, "Growing fast. Halfway there."

Kayla faintly smiles as her lungs begin to faintly burn, then quickly makes the appropriate hand motions to signal, "Forgive me. I need air."

She tilts her head upward and kicks her arms and legs to plunge up to the surface. Kayla immediately gasps for air the moment her head broke through the ocean waves, taking deep and calm breaths while looking around at all the joyous reunions going on around her. Laughter and cheers are still clinging to the approaching afternoon air, not a single Metkayina worried about the day's chores as they are too busy reacquainting themselves with their Spirit Brothers and Sisters. Kayla fondly watched these interactions, her heart warm and yet... sad as she watched the Na'vi swim around her without a care in the world. It's not as though she expected anyone to notice her, but it was a brief realization that today she was invisible and an outcast compared to these beautiful tulkun creatures. It was just another reminder that she didn't belong here and she had no Spirit Sister of her own, feeling out of place among an entire lagoon full of tulkun, Na'vi, tsurak, ilu, and other aquatic creatures.

Once she caught her breath, Kayla inhaled deeply and stuck her face back into the water to check out the activity going on beneath her treading feet. Looking around, she managed to catch a glimpse of a familiar Na'vi, a woman, adamantly communicating with her hands toward another tulkun, a female and her calf. Kayla recognized Ronal's ornaments that expressed her importance among the other Metkayina, along with her rounded belly. Without those traits, however, Kayla wouldn't have recognized her because the tsahik was smiling, broadly, unbothered by anything going on around her as she spoke to what had to be her Spirit Sister, Ro'a.

In all the weeks Kayla had been living here, she had never seen Ronal smile, let alone smile like that.

A/N: Please remember that I can't reply to any comments below every chapter because I'm using a secondary account. So if you have questions about the series you would like answers to, please put it in the ask box, thank you!

If you have a request, check the rules first! Much love!

Buy me ko-fi <3

Just a brief notice that updates are gonna be spotty from here on out as summer is coming to a close and I'll be working two jobs next month (Sept). Keep the love and support coming and I hope to update for y'all soon!

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loganlermanstanaccount · 9 months

Text

sand beyond the sea (I know you're waiting there for me)

(AO3 Mirror) (Main Masterlist) (Event Masterlist) (Event Info)

Tape 1 // Side A Track 08: Seaforth - King Krule Finnick Odair x childhood lost love

warnings: mild angst, fluff, happy ending.

a/n: first drabble for my 6k followers event! i had fun writing this one :)

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Our love dissolves this universe (Our love dissolves the universe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finnick can't sleep.

He won't, actually; out of principle. There was a time in his life where he was terrified of the dark, a fear that seeped well into adulthood. He'd ask for the light of gas lamps, keep his window open to let moonlight spill in, or crawl into his mother's bed for comfort. It wasn't the dark, per se, but the nightmares: creatures creeping in the dark, shadows with a bony hand around his neck. And when those nightmares turned into pseudo-memories: of heads hacked off and the sharp prongs of a trident in his chest – well, those ones still keep him up at night.

This time, though, it's nothing like that. It's all the more surprising when he drifts off into sleep, and instead of nightmares; he dreams. Hazy, wispy ones of sand and salt in the air: of laughter, of love, of you.

So he doesn't sleep, for a while. Instead, he lies awake in a crisp white room, a thousand miles away from wherever you really are. District 4, probably; still living by a half-hearted cliff's edge, a stone's throw from his parent's house. That's what he sees, sometimes: feels the sand underfoot as you run ragged around rock pools and fall asleep in the sun. Dreams, governed by feeling; touch, taste, smell; of your hands tying loose braids into his hair, and fried fish by the water's edge. He doesn' t need to see you, dreaming or otherwise, to know how much he loves you.

And so, it doesn't matter how hard he fights it - Finnick always wakes up in the morning with the feeling of your hand on his cheek, warmth rising to the surface of his chest. You'd swirl a stick into sand and explain what you'd learnt at school, that day, a class above him.

Cold air sinks, Finn; warm air rises.

And he'd give you a gap-toothed smile, grinning like an idiot even then.

So you'd float to heaven, he'd say, head spinning as you laugh. And Snow would kick rocks in hell.

Oh my God… what does that even mean, Finnick?

He'd clarify. Just think you're warm. Somethin' about you.

Your smile is something etched onto his heart like the carvings you'd make into driftwood, all the way back then. Scratchy hearts, and the both of your initials in bark.

You're full of hot air, Finn.

It makes him smile, curled up against the sheets like you're pressed against him. Sometimes, he thinks you were made for one another; spines slotting together like puzzle pieces, two halves of one whole.

It's stupid, probably, to think of a childhood love like that. To hold onto something he let die, after the Games. His knuckles are white from holding on too long, he thinks. Too tight.

So he can't sleep, barely does; counting down the days, seconds, hours, until he's back home. Dreams of a beach where you're still there, where your footsteps dance around one another; and aren't washed away by the sea.

"Finn?" You still live in that old house, grown into your features, and he's grown into gangly limbs.

He's worn his best trousers, tried to smooth that rogue curl at the crown of his head. He'd brought flowers that remind him of you, sweet and crisp and fresh. You're pretty. So, so pretty; it makes his chest heave and creak. And your hands are cradling his face, his hands are on your waist: they fit, just right.

Watery laughter, but it sounds exactly how he remembers. Everything else falls away. He sleeps with his head on your chest, that night. It's warm.

Somethin' about you, he thinks.

Finnick taglist: @amonett, @neithriddle

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #thg #the hunger games #thg x reader #the hunger games fic #finnick odair fanfic #angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #Spotify

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padfootagain · 6 months

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Deeper Love

Hello everyone ! Here is another request that was made for my 6k event by @pinchofhoney : “hello!! i just wanted to congratulate you once again! you’re amazing writer and as i already said – you deserve every of these follows!!<;33

of course, i’d love to take part in your event!! can i have a ben barnes with friends with benefits to lovers? 🙈

thank you so much! and have a great day (or night, if you’re reading this right now hahah)”

Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like this little piece!

Hope you all like this fic. Tell me what you think :)

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, NO ACTUAL NSFW BUT MENTIONS OF SEX SO NO MINORS HERE!!

Summary: Ben and you have been friends with benefits for a few months. And it was all fun and game, until feelings got into the fray…

Word Count: 3362

Ben Barnes’ Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Ben watched you getting dressed. It was a sight he had grown accustomed to, it was almost familiar, really. Slipping your bra on, your underwear, your blue jeans… He watched you fix your hair in the mirror, studying your reflection until you were satisfied. He knew all about your morning routine, from the temperature of your shower, the time spent brushing your teeth, to your favourite food for breakfast.

It was almost domestic at this point. It was forming habits. Like the spare toothbrush in his bathroom, and his extra pair of jeans in your drawer.

And yet you weren’t together. You were… just friends.

Just friends…

Only, with benefits. The benefits being sex, of course. Long nights spent in pleasure, in astronomical bliss. A solution, at first, to fulfil a pulsion, an urge you had both felt, an itch to be scratched. Nothing serious, nothing complicated, nothing to get attached to. Just two friends pleasuring each other. Nothing less, nothing more. It was the deal.

And it worked. For the first few weeks, it worked brilliantly. You were quickly at ease with each other, and your nights and mornings most definitely became filled with pleasure… and it was all going smoothly.

But then you left your toothbrush at his place, along with some perfume, some soap and a bottle of shampoo; because it was easier that way and you liked taking a shower with him.

And then he left his cologne at your place, a sweater and t-shirt, because it was simply easier to get ready without going back to his apartment.

And then, your usually-friendly activities took a more romantic turn. Holding hands in the dark room of a cinema, cuddling on the sofa, resting your palm on his thigh as he drove, his foot touching your leg as you ate dinner.

And then there was the shift between your intimate moments too. Learning every inch of the other’s body, every touch that turned into a shudder, every stroke that brought out a moan. And then the pleasure turned intimate, truly intimate when it started carrying affection, beyond pure bliss. Tenderness mingling with fervent thrusts, and hands clanging onto each other, shallow breaths broken in sync, connection in every meeting of lips, affection sipping in every new touch and flowing deeper in your hearts every time you saw stars.

And with every night spent together and every morning awakening in each other’s arms, Ben and you had grown closer, with having sex slowly evolving into making love.

Love… When did that word appear to define you?

As Ben leaned against the doorframe of his bathroom, arms crossed before his chest, hair still dishevelled after a shower with you, he tried to figure out when he became so attached.

After all, he was always attached to you. Because you were a friend, even before you became more than that. But when did he start feeling for you, in a romantic fashion?

Because he did. Feel. A stammer of the heart every time you looked at him, a breath caught in his throat every time you touched, a heartbeat skipped whenever you came into view… And a longing, furled right there, in his chest and stomach, an aching that never left, whenever you weren’t around, that was eased only by your nearness, only by a touch to make sure you were there.

He was in love with you. After four months of this arrangement, Ben was hopelessly, thoroughly in love with you.

And yet he was still holding onto this label. Just friends… with benefits.

The more he contemplated the situation, the more he reckoned that this label would lead to just friends with heartbreaks…

“Any plans for the weekend?”

You asked him as you turned towards the door, readjusting your camisole, the green one he adored, that fitted your form to perfection.

“Not much. You?”

“Not much.”

“Wanna go out on Saturday night, then? They’re making a James Stewart theme for this month at the cinema you like. You know? The one near your place…?”

But you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“Actually, I’m not free this Saturday.”

“Oh, okay. Going out with the usual gang of rogues?” he joked, referring to your friends. But you shook your head again.

“I have a date, actually.”

All of a sudden, every muscle of his body was taunt. His hand clasped onto his own arms, as if looking for support, but finding none. He was almost hugging himself at this point.

“Oh…” he breathed, and that was the only sound he could let out.

“Hmmm… with Stan. You know, my neighbour?”

“Your neighbour?”

“Yeah, the cute guy.”

“Oh… okay.”

You raised an eyebrow as you noticed the way he grew a little paler, the way he averted his eyes, the way he moved slightly away from you…

How could you have missed the signs, they were too obvious.

“We said we weren’t exclusive,” you pointed out, and Ben was terrible at hiding the way your words hurt.

You were right all the same.

“You’re right. I’m not saying anything.”

“You don’t seem thrilled by the idea.”

“We’re sleeping together.”

“Yes, I had noticed..”

“Have been for the past four months.”

“I am well aware.”

“We’re lovers.”

“Yes. And?”

“And… I don’t know. I like it that way.”

And the shrug you gave him in response finished to break his heart.

“I like it too. We’re… I think we’re very… compatible, when it comes to intimacy. But I want a real relationship. And we’ve agreed that what’s going on between us is not meant for the long run, it’s not to become serious.”

Slowly, Ben nodded.

“Yeah, we did.”

“I’m free on Sunday, though. We can go to the movies then.”

But Ben shook his head.

“I’ll be busy on Sunday. Lines to learn,” he answered elusively, and you knew he was lying, but you didn’t say anything about it.

“Okay, well… next week then.”

“Yeah… next week.”

But when you tried to walk past him, Ben held onto your arm, stopping you.

“If you start dating this guy… we should stop our arrangement.”

“Why? I haven’t had a date with him yet. It might go terribly wrong.”

“But if you want to start dating someone else, may it be him or anyone else, for that matter… we should stop.”

There was defiance in your stance as you answered, and Ben didn’t know what to make of it.

“What makes you think I haven’t dated anyone else these past few months?”

It took him a moment for the spinning to stop, for the world to be steady again. But then his rational brain kicked back in, and he shook his head with a frown.

“We agreed to tell each other that, at the beginning.”

“Did we?”

You knew the answer already, but he answered all the same, his tone bitter now, almost angry.

“Should I run a check-up, then? Should I get tested for something?”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed too.

“No,” you mumbled under your breath. “There was no one else.”

Ben’s heart gave a content jump, and he hated it.

“Right… there was no one else for me either.”

“There was no one else sexually,” you added, and he knew you were being mean, and probably lying. He still fell for it.

You regretted your words immediately when you saw a jolt of pain passing through his eyes, right before he could control his reaction.

“Right…”

“It’s nothing serious. Anyway… yeah, I guess we’ll have to stop if I like him and want to give him a chance. Do you have a problem with that?”

But Ben shook his head, jaw set and something a bitter, a little defiant burning in his black eyes.

“No, of course not. You’re a big girl. You can do as you please. Besides, you’re right… I should start looking for something serious again too.”

You nodded, slowly, glaring at each other now.

“You should.”

Before he could say anything else, you broke free and walked out of the bathroom.

When you aimed straight for the front door, though, picking up your shoes, Ben’s bitterness turned into sadness, almost desperation.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m working today.”

“Yes, but… you haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’ve made your favourite pancakes…”

You paused, looked up at him. He didn’t seem angry anymore. He was even paler than before, the flush of annoyance replaced by the white of fear and disappointment. His tone was softer now, begging even. It screamed a silent message.

Stay. I’m sorry. Stay.

But you shook your head.

“I want to go to work early. I really need to leave. Thanks for the pancakes, though.”

For the last month-and-a-half, you and Ben kissed every time you met and whenever you parted. Not this time, though. This time, you turned your back to him, opened the door, and left without a single touch, a sweet word, or a brush of lips. Instead, you threw only coldness at him.

When the door closed, and Ben was left staring at nothing but an empty space, it felt like his entire world crumbled.

Slowly, a tear rolled down his cheek. He didn’t bother brushing it away.

Saturday night arrived, and with it an awful lot of tissues, ice cream, and Keira Knightley looking stunning while she chastised a proud Mr. Darcy.

After all, desperate situations called for desperate measures. So, as you were buried under a blanket on your sofa, you were getting ready for a lonely evening spent mourning a relationship that never existed in the first place and wallowing in your self-pity. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. A better one than your attempt at lying to Ben to make him react and talk about your relationship – or lack thereof – at least…

Of course, there was no date with your neighbour. How could there be one when you were hopelessly, madly in love with your best friend and current ‘casual lover’?

What kind of mess had you let yourself get dragged into when you agreed for this friends-with-benefits situation? It wasn’t as if you didn’t read books or watched movies… you should have known these arrangements always led to heartbreak.

You sniffed loudly, trying to focus on the movie but failing prodigiously to do so. Ben was all you could think of…

Since that morning at his apartment, he had not called, and you had remained just as silent. He didn’t care, clearly. Not like this. You were a damn fool…

You were dipping your spoon in your ice cream when you phone vibrated, and you checked the text you had received while Elizabeth was discovering what Darcy had done to her sister.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read the name on the screen… Ben.

Good evening. Are you still home? Or are you at your date already?

You bit your lip fiercely, hesitating. Judging by the time, you should indeed be on a date right now… should you lie?

You decided to be cautious.

Why are you asking?

His answer was a punch in the guts.

Because I’m in front of your door.

Please, if you’re in there, let me in. We need to talk.

You pressed your palm against your mouth to shush your squeal, turning towards your door. You didn’t even dare to move…

I can here the movie playing, I know you’re in there. Let me in.

Please, love, we need to talk.

But you shook your head as you answered his text.

I’m getting ready for my date, I can’t talk right now.

Silence. You stared at your phone but Ben wasn’t writing.

You jumped as he forcefully knocked at your door (or rather slammed his fist against it).

“Y/N? Please!”

He called for you a couple more times, and you had to give up, wanting to avoid the wrath of your neighbours…

You merely threw away your blanket, put the ice cream and tissues on your coffee table, and hurried to the door. You were wearing sweatpants and a large t-shirt, but you didn’t have time to change.

“Ben! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” you glowered at him as you opened the door just a few inches, hiding your body behind the wooden surface.

He frowned hard.

“Please, let me in.”

“No. I don’t want to.”

“What now? Are you afraid of me or something?”

Yes, you thought, I’m afraid of how much I love you while you feel nothing for me at all… I’m afraid you’re going to break my heart if I let you in.

“I don’t want to see you. I have to get ready for my date. I don’t have time right now…”

“Don’t go on that date.”

You frowned hard.

“What?”

“Please, Y/N. Don’t go on this date. Don’t date this guy.”

“Why not?”

You let out a bitter laugh.

“So you can keep fucking me when you feel lonely?”

Pain shot through Ben’s frame and face, and you hated yourself for causing such an emotion in him.

“So… it was truly just sex for you?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be just sex?”

“It hasn’t been just sex for months, Y/N. I thought you felt it too.”

You stared at each other, rendered breathless by the confession. Slowly, as if he were afraid that you would run away if he moved too fast, Ben took hold of the door, and gently pushed it open.

“Let me in. Please.”

You yielded, despite your better judgement, or perhaps simply despite your fear. He raised a surprised eyebrow at your outfit.

“I thought you were getting ready,” he breathed, closing the door behind him.

But you ignored his question, crossing your arms before your chest.

“I don’t understand what you want,” you admitted.

His answer was brutally honest, you were surprised by it.

“You. I want you.”

“But you said it would be too complicated. That’s why we came up with this arrangement…”

“I know. It was stupid.”

“This… us… it doesn’t exist. It’s just sex…”

But he frowned hard, walking closer, until he could reach for you, holding on your upper arms in a firm yet gentle hold.

“At first, yes. For about a couple of weeks. But it quickly became much more than that.”

“You always said…”

“We’ve already stated that I’m the most idiotic man on the planet, Y/N.”

“No, you’re not. That’s why it hurts a lot. Because you’re not stupid. Therefore, you just don’t feel anything.”

He opened, then closed his mouth in a hurry, as if catching himself.

You took his silence as an agreement, and as it broke, your heart became harder also. Your voice was cold as you spoke again, as you took a step back, freeing yourself from his hands.

“I think we should stop being friends with benefits. I don’t want that anymore.”

“Okay,” he agreed with ease, and you didn’t know what to make of the glitter of hope you saw sparkling in his dark eyes. “Let’s stop that. We could…”

“I don’t think we should see each other again.”

Your entire frame shuddered as you recognized fear and pain in Ben’s eyes.

“What?”

“I don’t want to see you again.”

Your voice was firmer than the way you felt. Ben’s lips trembled.

He blinked a couple of times, and then he was taking a step towards you again, chasing after you, holding you back…

“Look… I know that I’ve fucked up, okay? I know that… this was a bad idea, and we should have talked about it sooner. But I don’t want to lose you.”

You heaved a sigh. And it hurt as you let the words out, but Ben needed to hear them, just as much as you needed to release the feelings you had been withholding for too long.

“Ben… this can’t go on. It was fun at first, but I… the truth is, I have feelings for you. I want to be with you. Like… really with you. And you won’t give me that. So, I think we should stop seeing each other, before it breaks our hearts…”

“You’re already breaking mine.”

You stared at him, stunned, letting your guard down long enough for him to reach up to cup your face in his warm palms.

“Please, give me another chance,” Ben begged, his voice barely more than a whisper, and you could see tears shining in his eyes. “I should have told you sooner, but… I was afraid. I was afraid because I have feelings for you as well. And I want to be the one to take you on dates, not your neighbour, not anyone else…”

“You’re jealous?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Yes, I’m jealous. I want you. I want no one else to kiss you or touch you and most certainly not have sex with you. I want… I want this. I want you.”

You could have fallen for it all, and you knew it, but you didn’t, even if you wanted to. Instead, you started to cry, broke free, shook your head.

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. We can do this…”

“You didn’t say anything when I told you I was going out tonight…”

“I wasn’t happy about it, and I reckon you noticed that.”

“You didn’t hold me back. You didn’t…”

You heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I’m in love with you, Ben,” you confessed, and it felt both liberating and dreadfully painful. “I… I don’t even have a real date tonight! I was just… I wanted to see if you wanted me, and you let me go…”

“I’m here tonight, aren’t I?”

You stared at him a little longer. He was dishevelled, out of breath. He looked desperate…

“I’m here,” he repeated. “And yes, again, it took me too long to move my stupid arse, but I’m here. And I… I love you.”

He let his words sink in, you looked at him with so much hope…

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. It wasn’t just sex, not for me, it hasn’t been just sex for months. And you’re right, I held back, and kept on bringing up this stupid arrangement, because I was a coward. A proper coward. But I was always in love with you. And you were always more than a way to have sex. You were always so, so much more, Y/N. You were always in my head, and always in my heart and just… come on, you must have felt it. The way everything changed after a mere couple of weeks. The way I haven’t been fucking you in months but making love to you, every time.”

He ran a hand through your hair.

“Give me another chance. Come with me on a date tomorrow. Nothing too fancy, just us. I’ll make a picnic. I’ll take you to your favourite spot. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll beg if I have to. Give me another chance. We’ll do it properly this time around, I promise.”

“So… we’ll be exclusive?”

“Absolutely.”

“We’ll be officially together.”

“A couple, yes. I won’t have anything else anymore.”

“You won’t break my heart, will you?”

His gaze grew more tender.

“No, Y/N. I’ll just love you with every fibre of my being, that’s all.”

He leaned closer, until his forehead rested against yours. And you didn’t stop him, instead, you let him in.

“Okay, I want that too,” you nodded, nose bumping against his in the process.

He grinned, before kissing you, passionately, for a long, long time…

“So… no date tonight?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, finally noticing the movie playing, Elizabeth standing alone in the rain.

“No… just me and good old Mr. Darcy.”

“Want to order some pizza and watch the rest together.”

“Or we can watch it all over again from the start? A new beginning? A second chance?”

He grinned.

“Yeah… yeah, a second chance is all I want…”

And before you could speak again, he was kissing you and making you forget how to breathe.

******************************

Taglist : @sergeantbuckybarnes @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fic #ben barnes oneshot #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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leviathans-watching · 1 year

Text

carving pumpkins with the brothers

includes: the brothers & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .6k | rated t | m.list

warnings: mention of and use of a knife to carve a pumpkin

a/n: happy halloween to those who celebrate! enoy some #fall content from yours truly. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come talk to me!!

please reblog (with pics of what you think the brothers pumpkins looked like)

“i’m gonna try to carve your face,” mammon says, and you burst out laughing.

“good luck with that,” satan says drily, bent over his pumpkin, spoon in hand. somehow, unlike asmo beside him, he’s completely spotless, with not a hint of goop on him anywhere.

“yeah,” belphie adds, “because your art skills can actually make that happen.”

mammon pouts, waving a handful of pumpkin guts through the air threateningly. “you guys are so mean to me! i could do it.”

“yeah, right,” levi chimes in. he’s got his brow furrowed in concentration as he outlines the shape he wants to cut out in marker, checking his reference picture every so often to make sure he’s on track. it doesn’t escape your attention that his reference photo, is in fact, a ruri-chan chibi.

“hey, beel, put that down!” belphie slaps beel’s hand just before he puts a seed into his mouth. “mc said we’ve gotta cook them first.”

“we do,” you confirm. “beel, i promise the wait will be worth it.”

he sighs, but nods. “fine. but i’m so hungry.”

“you’ll survive,” lucifer tells him, showing no mercy. he’s got his sleeves rolled up and is elbow-deep in the pumpkin, apparently haven given up on using a scoop. it’s nice to see him let go a little bit, and you’re not going to lie, the faces he’s been making at the texture deserve to be memorialised.

“okay, i think i’m ready to carve,” you say to no one in particular, and in an instant, several different carving tools are being held out. you choose one of the kitchen knives, not trusting yourself to manage anything fancier. you’ve gone for a very classic jack-o-lantern and only hope you can do it justice. carving neatly has never been your strong suit.

but isn’t that part of the fun? getting messy and goopy and having everything look a little bit wonky? you certainly think so.

“be careful not to cut yourself,” mammon warns, and you flash him a grin.

“thanks, i will.”

carefully beginning with the eyes, you begin to cut out your face.

“i’m done,” beel announces, and you look over to see his pumpkin. it’s one of the largest ones you could find and what he’s done with it is comical. a small, friendly face sits directly in the middle, disproportionately sized to the rest.

“i like it,” you say, fighting a laugh. “if you want to begin sorting the seeds from the goop, then we can cook them faster.”

beel nods, seriously and begins to do what you say. you finish up your carving in the next few minutes, proudly setting it aside.

“whoa, mc, that looks really good,” asmo cheers, and you lean over to wipe a bit of pumpkin guts off of his cheek. how he’s gotten so messy within is completely beyond you, but hey, at least he looks like he’s having a good time. “do you think you can help me with mine?”

“no way,” levi says. “we all have to do our own!”

“ugh, fine.”

“lucifer, how is yours going?” you ask, peering at his pumpkin. he’s got a pen in his hands now and seems to be considering what kind of face.

“good, except i can’t think of what to draw,” he replies, and you spread your arms.

“but there are so many options!”

“and that’s the problem. i work better when there are fewer choices.”

“maybe look up some inspo pics?” you offer helpfully, and he nods, pulling out his d.d.d.

“mammon, let’s see yours,” satan says gleefully, and mammon jumps, covering it with his arms.

“no way! it’s not ready!”

“but you’ve been drawing forever!”

“mc’s face is kinda hard, okay?” he defends, still not letting anyone see.

“that means you screwed up,” belphie intones, and mammon flushes.

“nuh-uh!” he pauses. “but um, on a totally unrelated note, are there any extra pumpkins?”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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desperatecheesecubes · 2 years

Text

It’s 3 A.M. but I was COMPELLED

#tim drake #damian wayne #no one will find this funny but me #mine #I can’t believe y’all got this to 1K #oh good lord now it’s at 1.5k #holy fuck we’re at 2K #I ain’t got nothing for 2.5K #3K my bewildered #I need a tag for 3.5K now?!#I gotta come up with something for 4K now?#stop this we’re at 4.5K now #5K means this post is breaching containment #5.5K and this post is officially the peoples #6K is beyond me actually

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obstinaterixatrix · 13 days

Note

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

#orlbs #mp100lb #mob psycho 100 #long post #…I SPENT SO LONG ON THIS AND FORMATTED IT ALL ON MY PHONE SO EVERYBODY CLAP AND CHEER #why did I do it on my phone? bc I am lying in bed and didnt want to move #why did I spend so much time? bc I got carried away #why am I posting at 4am? stupidity.#why isn’t this under a readmore? because fic recs deserve to be seen. I’m adding an element of hostility for spice.#fanfiction #ask #anonymous

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writingcold · 2 months

Text

Hello! Welcome to Chapter 3.2 of CD&FE.

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years. Part 2 of Chapter Three - more of cottage getaway with Jake.

Content warnings: Language, smoking, drinking, sexual situations. Delayed orgasm, long, slow sex - like glacially slow, and our first big spike of angst.

Word Count: approx. 6K

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness for your help, your support and your kindness when it came to writing this story!

CD&FE, Part 3.2: Jake POV

Wakefulness didn’t arrive until well into the afternoon, and that was all right. My eyes creaked open to find that I was alone in the very cozy bed. I could hear soft solo piano beyond the bedroom mated with a few knocks and blips that told me she was moving around. I felt no rush to drag myself from the horizontal state. In fact, I liked just being able to lay there, listening, knowing that she was there.

I had a soreness deep in my abdomen and the top of my low back that I had not felt in some time. I had actually put in the damn effort and it felt good. It was not that I was lazy, but with so many fleeting faces or instances with just the hand, it didn’t take too much effort to get what I needed and be on my way. But with Y/n? It was different. My brain needed to see her fall apart in the most carnal manner. She pushed me. She challenged me. She made me want more. She licked my curiosity in a way that no one else had ever done before.

The scent of coffee tickled my senses. I let out a long breath of surrender and started to move towards the edge of the bed. My lips were tight against my teeth as just how sore my body was from the previous night tugged and restrained my legs and hips and fuck… my fingers were even sore. It left me to wonder if she was in a similar state. I tugged a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from my bag and trudged into the bathroom to clean up for our day in.

“There’s creme al caffé there,” she said as I finally made my way into the living space.

“Double cream? Did that our second round last night, if I remember right,” I teased as I bent to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

She laughed, which of course made me feel all the more smug. I tossed a pod together and watched her snuggle down into the far end of the couch as my coffee brewed. She was beautiful. I wondered if she knew just how she stirred me - and it didn’t matter the state of her dress, or what exactly she was doing. Just to see the curve of her mouth was enough to want to bend her over the damn back of the couch and fuck her like crazy.

When she said she was going on vacation as we were texting back and forth, I could not express the disappointment that struck. I was sure I had overstepped; that surely she would be going with someone else. The discovery that this woman commanded me the way she did in our last moments together did not frighten me. I honestly meant what I had said to her about wanting to be with her. We seemed to both understand the need and possibility, however, our timing was for shit.

The twenty months of tour were brutal. She haunted my every moment, though she was never farther than a text away. I tried to text. I tried to be normal in those texts but came off sounding pretentious even to my own ears. I drifted away for fear that she would discover that aside from my day job, I was a total… Never mind what I was - reserved. We’ll go with that.

Coffee in hand, I tucked in at the table to pretend to scroll through my phone. She was pretending to read her book, but her eyes kept skating over the top to fall directly on mine. “Did you eat breakfast yet?” I finally asked, dropping the phone to the side to actually just watch her.

“I don’t keep rockstar hours and have been up since-”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Not what I asked.”

“Yes. I even had a bite already for lunch, too,” she remarked before letting her gaze return to the structure of her book. “You are on your own.”

I tapped my fingers on the table a few times before sipping at the coffee. My thoughts bent to the outside and the ice that was still choking the lake. It was stunning. I could see where the ice had given way to its current, shoving the jagged chunks back towards the shore like shattered sheets of glass. The bare trees were on the cusp of budding out despite the warmth of the sun being hidden behind thick clouds. There were even a few stray snowflakes that were really trying to survive on the breeze. Idyllic. I sat until I was about half way through the cup of coffee before I finally relented and dug around for something quick to pacify the gut. A few pieces of toast and a fresh cup of hot coffee, and I was dragging my coat and boots on to step onto the deck.

Silence. How strange it was to be wrapped in such quiet. So much of my daily life had some kind of noise to it. Beautiful, crashing, annoying noise. I felt my lungs fill with breath and heard my muscles and tension creak and wearily bend away from me. I had no idea how this moment had arrived. I only felt blessed by it. Y/n - if she knew it or not - was providing me that safe harbor that I had extended the last time our paths crossed. I knew it was a harbor that was temporary, but it would be ours for now.

I munched the icy toast and sipped at the lukewarm coffee as I scoped out the cozy firepit and the dock. My brain was formulating a plan as the afternoon trudged on. I prepped the pit and brought out the grill, happy that it had a full tank of gas. When I walked back inside, wrapped in cold air and lake smiles, she grinned sleepily from her book.

“Gonna take a nap?” I asked as I made my way into the kitchen.

“That would be rude of me,” she sighed, tossing her book onto the coffee table.

Cup set in the sink, I scoffed as I moved back towards her. I couldn’t help but smile the way she melted into the couch cushions. I snatched up the fuzzy quilt that was on the back of one chair and draped it across her.

“Not rude. It’s your vacation, remember? I’ll get us set up for dinner,” I said as I leaned down over the back of the couch to be closer to her.

“What were you doing outside for so long?” she asked as she snuggled down.

“Oh, got the grill up and going; the firepit is ready to go,” I explained. “Rest. I’m the one that slept all morning.”

“Yeah, but until the other day you were five time zones away,” she said softly, tracing the back of my hand with a fingernail.

“Just means that I’ll keep you up all night tonight.”

“Sounds like fun.”

I left her to rest looking all pretty, snuggled up and warm. I found steaks and the seasonings that I had picked out. I got them up and set them to the side to rest while I turned to cutting up vegetables for the side. I snagged her little speaker and found a favorite playlist on my phone that I knew wouldn’t be too disruptive as I cooked. She was out no more than ninety minutes, but it was long enough to set my scene as it were. I was just stepping out onto the deck to start the grill when she roused, all flush faced and refreshed. Yeah. I watched her until our eyes met, taking in the shy blush that crept over her already rosy cheeks. I liked it. All of it. All of her. I continued on, hoping to feed us early.

“Anything I should be doing?” she asked from the door, ten minutes later.

“Nope. These will be ready for consumption soon. Oh,” I turned to look at her, stopping when I discovered she’s much closer than she sounded. I grin at how she leaned in to collect my touch. I kissed her before turning my attention back to the grill. “You pick the drinks, okay? Get those going and I’ll be in a few.”

I poked a finger at the meat before I stirred the cast iron of veggies. It would be simple, but damn if it didn’t smell amazing. I got everything onto the tray and shut down before heading inside. I discovered she had some instrumental blues going as she poured out glasses of red wine. The table is set and the entire space just feels like home. I paused to swallow down stupid words that would totally mark me as all too soft. I managed a smile and carried on with getting us fed.

To get Y/n to talk was easy; to listen to her talk was even easier. I watched as her eyes shone when she grew passionate and the way the side of her nose crinkled before she smiled. Her hands would fly around when she was flustered. Her warmth still shone through even in her stillness. And all I could think was damn, this woman allows me to be in her space. How lucky is that shit?

My eyes strayed to the outside once more, thankful that there had been a thinning of the cloud cover. It’s heading towards sunset and the sky was lush in swirls of white and grays and navy and…

“There’s something I want to try,” I said quietly as she was carrying the dishes into the kitchen.

She looked back with a raised eyebrow. “Okay…? More information, please.”

“Get naked,” I replied as I stood up.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I went into the bedroom to get a blanket before returning and stacking it on the one from the couch. She was slow to follow until I started to strip out of my flannel and t-shirt. I was half hard by the time my boxers hit the floor and she let out a soft sigh. I pulled one blanket across my shoulders and waited for her to be bare before turning her by her hips to have her back to me and draping the second blanket across her front. I had no clue if this was going to work, but so far, awkward was the best description.

“Not getting this, Jake,” she said as I steered her towards the back door in our little blanket cocoon.

“I’m trying to figure it out myself,” I returned with a chuckle as I pushed us outside, barefooted and already shivering. “We’re heading for that bench over there.”

She was shivering against me while I moved us towards a bench that faced the water that was down the stairs off the one side of the deck. The moment she realized that I was asking her to cross a narrow strip of dirt path barefoot, she stopped.

“Trust me,” I whispered in her ear, drawing my fingertips over her hip. “I think you’ll like this.”

She grumbled something but stepped out anyway. I sat down on the bench, tugging her down on me. To feel the press of her ass on my thighs just about sent me right around the bend. It took only moments to recollect and settle into what I wanted for the both of us.

“Your job is to open those legs wide, hook them around mine,” I said, making sure to hold the edges of our blanket cocoon together. I felt her tailbone shift as she followed my direction. “Good. Your other job is to hold the blankets around us. Do you have them, mouse? Got the edges?”

Her hands found the seam that I’d created and took them from me to pull around her front. I swear I could feel her pussy throbbing over me. I could already feel myself hardening once more for her. I shifted just enough so that I could slot myself between her splayed legs. My eyes cast out to the horizon, coming to focus on the hints of soft swirls of color in the clouds. I can’t help the hum that starts deep in my chest.

“I want to feel you for as long as I can,” I said into the silk of her skin before kissing against her shoulder. “Does that sound good? Share this sunset with me while I rest in your pussy?”

Her breath hitched as she nodded. I danced my fingers across the plane of her belly, dragging the side of a finger against the underside of her breast. I felt the gooseflesh rise beneath my touch. I hummed into her hair as I continued to explore. One hand turning north, I traced through her cleavage allowing my thumb to catch against one nipple. My other hand skated down her thigh, working down to her knee only to loop back towards her core. She tilted her pelvis down as if anticipating my direction. I grinned before sinking my teeth into her shoulder and pulling both hands away from her a fraction as if just hovering above the skin gave me the same kind of satisfaction.

“Fucker,” she whispered, tightening the blanket against her legs.

“Pretty much,” I concurred.

I traced the shell of her ear with the tip of my tongue. The soft increase of her breath shot a wave of excitement through me. A lush groan passed her lips.

“Someone’s hungry,” she sighed as pulled my cock up, threading in between her thighs.

I let out a low chuckle as she pressed back against me. “For this cunt that weeps down on me? For this body against me? For this woman who calls this flesh hers? Fuck… always hungry for you.”

I brushed the head through her folds. The reward was a hard hiss and a clench of the muscles of her abdomen. I pressed my shaft up through her, slowly collecting her gloss and heat. It felt so good just there that I nearly stayed but I looped my fingers to bend it into her, creeping into her secrets and silk until our bodies were connected completely. Her breath passed across the plump of her lip as she leaned back to rest against my shoulder. I kissed the ridge of her jaw before shifting hard to fully strike against her. She released the most gorgeous rumble that vibrated against my chest.

“Like it?” I asked, watching her expression as she adjusted and settled against me. “Do you like the feeling of me inside of you?”

She nodded as her eyes drifted open to meet my gaze. I passed the pad of my thumb across the swollen nub of her and watched as a fog passed across her sight. The back of her thighs began to quiver. The smell of her skin made me feel drunk. The squeeze of her pussy flooded me with a desire I wanted to savor.

“Have you thought about this?” she asked, her voice thin.

Against the skin of her throat, I sighed. “I imagined sharing every sunset with you. The golds of Europe. The dusty rose of Asia. The boldness of Australia. The subtlety of South America. But this is the most perfect.”

Her jaw relaxed as I teased her nipples between my fingers of one hand while holding the full weight of the other. “What makes this one different?”

“I don’t have to imagine you wrapped around me like this,” I answered, shifting my hips just enough to move a fraction within her. It was enough to make us both whimper. “I don’t have to pretend that anyone else is you when they are on me.”

I pulled her hip back just as I shifted again and pushed even deeper. “Oh fuck,” she gasped, nearly losing the blanets. “How many others?”

“How many others have I what, baby?” I taunt as she turned her face towards mine to offer her mouth to me.

“How many have you fucked since the last time you saw me, rockstar?”

I smiled smugly before devouring her kiss. Fuck if the taste of her tongue against mine almost made me shoot my shot right there. “Is that important?”

“Two,” she whispered in between kisses.

I dragged my teeth across her lip as I tried to catch my breath. “Two, what?”

“I have had two lovers, and a one night stand in twenty months.”

“Seven. I’ve had seven encounters. Many more with the hand,” I relent as I reach back down, placing a feather touch against her swollen folds. “Everyone was you, though. But I’m sure you will not say the same of your experiences.”

It was not that I was looking for anything. I highly doubted that this woman needed not to be present for those she loved on. Those hook ups for me were momentary releases - just enough to quell the itch and settle the brain. I straightened my back enough to be able to slam back into her, commanding her attention.

“Just tell me they treated this cunt right,” I remarked, pinching her clit between my fingers and tugging gently. “Tell me they made her feel good.”

“Not as good as you.”

“Really?”

My tone was incredulous. Somehow, that didn’t seem right in the world. Anyone worthy enough to fall at her alter had better fuck her right. The notion that -

“Not as adventurous. None as open…”

I felt the corner of my mouth stretch with pride. Yeah. I guess I was pretty fucking open when it came to her. I would let this woman rail me and wouldn’t be embarrassed to beg for more. I rolled my hips beneath her and felt as her cunt flooded around me in a delicious spray.

“Fuck yeah,” I whisper against her mouth as she latched onto me.

The sun was nearly buried below the horizon. The sky was a bruised and blazened red and lavender. The clouds were modeled with highlights of blue and silver and stained in colors of passion.

“Rock them hips for me,” I whispered.

Shocking pulses began to stab behind my eyes as she started to move at a turtle’s crawl up and down my length. The gasp she let out as I struggled through her tightness hit me right in cock. She was spiraling. She was gripping me so tight and was so close I had a feeling I just had to… Fuck that was it. I just needed to jam my hips up and…

“Jake,” she sighed.

Her whole body was trembling with desire as she tiptoed the line of unraveling without me. The sky was turning into its darkened velveteen canvas. The air was turning bitter. And I just wanted a few more seconds of this sensation of being strangled with the blinding heat of her. She was practically mewling as I moaned into her mouth once more, driving myself at a snail’s crawl through her. Her eyes might have been begging for release when I finally saw the very last rays of the bleeding sunset.

“Cum for me, mouse,” I whispered into her skin, holding onto her like I was going to die.

It started with the inside corner of her eyebrow twitching, followed by her eyes growing narrow. She was nearly panting as she bit into her lips to stay quiet. It was beautiful the way she took me, took pleasure from me. The flush of her face and the muted squeak made all of my reserve break down instantly. I fought from closing my eyes. I wanted to watch every second of her orgasm - every bit of her euphoria.

I wrapped my arms across her and pumped a few more times, reaching my own end with shaky, gentle thrusts. Her body was nearly limp as I fought to catch my breath. I heard her say something, but the words were too soft for me to hear. I was so far gone in the haze of what we just did that I was afraid I was going to be checked out for a while. She flinched as I softened enough to fall away from her.

�� “Damn,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” I replied.

We sat there with me wrapped so totally around her that it was hard to know the end of me and the start of her and back around again. Words I didn’t utter were ignited on my tongue but quelled in the coolness of the night. The last time I had professed anything in my brain it had caused a realization that neither of us was ready for. I wanted to soak up the time with her - something that we both were very well aware that we had never had. For anything either of us knew was perhaps we really only had sex between us. But, that was not it, was it? There was more to this - to her - to us. It was like a possibility that was just waiting to be realized. I wondered if she saw that possibility. Or maybe it was that we were both ignoring it with genuine purpose.

“Jake,” she whispered just as I felt her shiver hard against me.

I knew we had pushed it too long. The sticky feel against my legs made me wince. “Stand up, I’ll get your blanket around you better,” I said, helping her to her feet.

I closed up my blanket and got her blanket turned so that she could hold it closed herself. We hurried up to the cottage and inside. She quaked and quivered her way towards the bedroom and bathroom. I picked up the discarded clothing, stopping just long enough to pull on my boxers. By the time I reached the bathroom, she had the shower turned on and was waiting for the steam to signal safety under the spray. Her sleepy smile pulled me to visit those lips once more. The smell of our sex on her twinkled through my senses. She tugged at the waistband of my underwear as she dropped the blanket to put on the sink. I’d lie if I was a little leary of both of us in that small shower stall, but I couldn’t tell her ‘no’.

The space was tight, but I didn’t care. I had her against me, around me, my hands on her, my arms around her. It felt complete. We shared soap and shampoo. I loved caring for her this way. I wondered if she had allowed others to even entertain the notion of this with her: this intimacy that she so readily shared with me. The feel of our skin sliding against each other made me heave a sigh that sent excitement right to my cock. Damn. I was already to be within her once more - despite being buried so deep within her for the past hour. I started to picture the most bland, most unappealing things I could imagine just to tone down my need. Somehow, wrapped up in each other, under that hot spray, I found a solace that I had no idea I was looking for. Somehow, I could suddenly picture her in my space, in my life, in the little rumples of time that were busy and times that were still with quietness. It started with a quiver in my chest and ended with a deep draw of breath that bounced off the walls of the tiny little shower stall.

“No,” she whispered, coming to an absolute stop under my touch. “Please don’t say anything, Jake. Just. Just, please don’t say it.”

Damn it. The emotions ruptured in my throat and choked my skin. How was I not to observe this moment? This intimacy that just happened between us, that keeps happening between us despite time and distance. Her lips ghosted across mine as I let her go. It was no more than a grazing, but it seemed to be enough to shut it down within and quiet my thoughts enough to function once more.

I wandered through the minutes, allowing her room to dry and dress while I kept wrapped in my towel, scrolling through my phone. I was responding to a Josh text when she emerged. I caught her eye before I turned back to my screen to finish letting him know that I was still alive. I grinned before I took my turn in the bathroom. Somewhere between combing out my hair and dragging clothes on, I heard her talking. I found myself lost in her tone, the way she laughed, the way she paused to listen, the way she allowed her sentences to fade only to pick up right away to move in another direction. It was obvious that she was talking to Patrick about the next few days. I wasn’t listening close enough to be classified as eavesdropping, but it was close enough to know he must’ve been concerned about her. Not unlike Josh, I supposed.

I snuck out of the bathroom to find that she was just walking out of the bedroom, phone in hand. I saw the bed was turned down and the light was on low. I felt a huff bubble up from the base of my throat as I grabbed socks and my jacket. She waved from the kitchen, eyes narrowing as I was sliding into my socks and boots. I retrieved a few beers from the fridge before leaning towards her.

“I’m going to go start a fire,” I whispered before heading to grab the guitar case and my smokes.

“Patrick says ‘hello’,” she said with a grin.

I smile wide with a wave and a hello back before I make my way outside. I snapped the beer open before crouching down to light the kindling in the fire pit. By the time Y/n is walking out onto the deck, I have a nice flame going and the guitar in between my hands. I mindlessly pluck away as she moves towards me, a steaming cup in her hands and wrapped in her heavy sweater. Her eyes sparkle in the firelight. Her skin was a warm sheen that stirred me. She was so effortless in her grace.

“All okay?” she asked as she sat in the chair next to mine.

I bit around the edges of my lips as I strummed through a few chords. “All good.”

She tapped her fingers against her mug as she sat back. I kept my gaze forward, unsure why my chest felt like it was in knots. We fell into a very surface level conversation. She asked me questions about the family and I asked her about her own. It felt very guarded. For two people who had just shared an entire sunset buried within the other, we were acting if nothing significant had happened. Perhaps I resented that just a bit more than I should have.

She listened to me play until her mug was long icy and my beers were gone. We talked, using friendly words and shallow phrasing, all the while, our eyes were cast to the clear sky. The absolute dark did not hide my reservation, nor did it shelter her need to keep to the safety of conversation. The fire was nearing embers when I finally set the guitar to the side and looked at her - really took in how she was before me. I saw it. I may have been experiencing reservation. What glinted in her eyes was fear. She was not afraid of me. She was not afraid of our time together. Of that I was sure. I had no idea what there was to fear…

Too tired to ask, and too hurt to really delve into it, I offered my hand to her. “Tired?” I asked, allowing my fingers to skate across her flesh.

She nodded in her answer. I told her to head on in. I doused the pit and grabbed hold of the trash before collecting my guitar and myself and headed inside. There was a stillness that left me unsettled. I felt like my feelings were rattling shards in my throat as I set my case to the side and made the rounds to make sure we were all locked up. I paused by the front door, realizing that it was such a mundane act, but one that I suddenly wanted to have part of my routine. Making sure she was with me, secured, safe. At nearly thirty years old I knew what I wanted from this woman and no damn clue of how to make it happen or function properly. We were still rooted in the places we were two years prior.

She was in bed with two glasses of water deposited on either side of the bed. I grinned at her offering. I stepped in to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, though I was sure I would be awake for hours yet. Of that I was sure. I tucked in with her, sliding up behind her just as she turned out the light. Feeling her heat made me smile. She held my hand tight as I molded myself around her, soaking up her warmth like a vampire.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after a long stretch of silence.

“For what?” I asked despite knowing where the conversation was going.

“I shouldn’t have shut you down,” she answered, her tone soft with remorse. “It’s just overwhelming.”

I breathed in the scent of her hair as my eyes closed. “Can you roll over? Let me see that face, mouse.”

She didn’t move for another stretch. Those emotions that were shattered before becoming pulverized and choking. I gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze that I hoped conveyed that it was safe. When she allowed the silence to sail longer, I kissed her shoulder.

“Please,” I whispered against her skin. “I think we need to talk about this.”

She released a long breath before she finally began to turn first to her back then to her opposite so that we were nearly nose to nose. I could see the outline of her cheek and the loveliness of her eyes in the near darkness of the room. I looped her hand into mine once more. I was fighting those feelings as I brushed a soft kiss to her mouth.

“You feel this, too,” I said, breathing in her breath.

She nodded. “But it’s just like last time. We’re still so opposite of where this would even make sense.”

“Yeah.” I smoothed back her hair as her words wobbled with her own emotions. “I want to be selfish and tell you to come with me. Fuck your job.”

“I happen to love my job,” she groused, defenses rising. “I kick ass in my job. I’ve worked very hard-”

“I’d never ask that of you,” I said with a nod. “I did say I wanted to be selfish.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “It’s not like I can do that either - tell you to leave the road?”

I shook my head. “We’re still fucked on that front.”

She let a sad grin tug at her mouth as she let go of my hand to touch my face. Her eyes were soft with feelings and liquified with tears. “I don’t know who thought that this was fair.”

“I’m just a guitar player,” I laughed. “I’ve done nothing to piss anyone off. It must’ve been you. What kind of deal did you make for your success? Hmm?”

I was rewarded with a laugh. An honest laugh that tickled at my soul. She burrowed her face down into my chest as she pulled herself closer to my body. The move allowed me to really wrap both arms around her and hold tight.

“Isn’t it kind of a guitar god thing to make deals with the devil for success? So clearly it was you that thrust this on us,” she said in a mock serious tone.

“I would gladly shoulder the blame if it meant that this was real.”

The air that escaped her to strike my skin was hot and broken. All the shards of emotions stabbed and bit at me with flaming teeth all at the same time.

“Fuck,” she gasped, digging her fingers into my chest. “I don’t see a way to navigate this.”

“I know.”

It was all I could offer her because it was the same in my own thoughts; my own brain. My will was ready to throw in the towel for the night. We were like pages of the same story, but were chapters apart. It hurt knowing that we were so right together on so many levels - save this one. This notion of being actually together within a life was still impossible. I was not done with the road. Hell, there was a real possibility that I would still be touring for a very long time. She was entrenched in her company. If I was on the road ten months of the year…

“Can we just enjoy these days?” she asked, her voice fragile. “I don’t know how this happened, but I’m ready to accept what we can have, you know? Within this time.”

I couldn’t help the pinch of my brows. I guess it would have to be enough. There was no fucking way I would allow her to pass through my hands once more without at least taking every drop of her that I could obtain.

“I’d like that,” I finally answered as she moved back to her pillow to look me in the face once more.

“Jake?”

I felt myself settling as I smiled at her. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want you to regret knowing this… Knowing me,” she said. “I don’t want you to think that I wouldn’t have wanted this - all of it. I think it would’ve been worse not to have known you.”

I let the words filter down through my gray matter for what it was - wisdom that I’m sure she was right. The thought that our paths never crossed burned and blistered a pain I didn’t want to really think about.

“And after?”

I was unsure about the question, but it made me draw in a hard moment. “After here?”

When she nodded, I swallowed hard. I didn’t really want to think about ‘after’.

“What happens after here, happens,” I said with little conviction. “If someone makes you happy, please do not think that I will not be happy for you.”

“Only if you can swear to the same,” she returned quickly.

I nodded, though some part wanted to punch myself right in the damn nose. But it was necessary. Her mouth paused in a sad arc that yanked at me. To see a scrap of sorrow pierced in places that I never knew existed.

“Do you think that there will ever be a time - a real time - for this?” she asked, her meager tone making me hate this conversation.

“The optimist in me says yes.”

“Don’t tell me what the pessimist says, Jake.”

We laughed, but it’s a hollowed out sound with little weight beneath it. We stumbled away with words of what we would do across the next few days. It was a safe retreat to waters that were calmer. Everything of me wanted to keep her close. What a selfish asshole I could be. She fell asleep against me - this beautiful creature that I could not claim as my own - my own equal. I would’ve run from that bed had I known that I was not going to leave everything behind that was important to evaporate and not have a course to return to. Instead, I lay with her, listening to her breathing and tiny coos and little sleeping sounds for hours as my brain spun around a singular notion: I had fallen in love with this woman. I had fallen for this woman and she with me.

And queue up the angst. Yeah. Just a few forehead kisses for you to soothe it. 😘😘

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justmeinatree · 8 months

Text

09 - Made Of Something New : USA

Summary : you meet niall in your hotel bar. and there’s an intense connection.

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, choking, cheating (not on you, but none the less)

Word Count : 6k

Series Masterlist

GIF : @horansqueen

April 23 (next year) - Las Vegas, USA

when niall approached mully, asking him if he wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, the last thing niall was expecting was vegas. but here he is, in a way too crowded hotel bar, sitting in the back corner with mully and a few other lads, drinking way too many beers.

mully’s idea of “distract niall” was going great so far, thanks to an abundance of alcohol. and strippers. the best thing he could think of really.

but, niall would have definitely preferred something quiet. something where he could try to sort himself out. things at home were bad again.

after that fateful night in dublin, 13 months ago now, niall woke up feeling refreshed. having the opportunity to finally let out everything he’s held in, was incredible. he felt lighter, felt peppier.

so he did the one thing mully desperately begged him not to do, and that’s to simply go back home as if none of this had happened. as if this feeling was going to last forever. as if the fog of drug you seemed to induce was forever lifted and he could be happily living his life again. mully laughed. shook his head. and watched him go off to the actual biggest mistake of his life.

but with time, especially when they hit around christmas break again, everything took a severe turn. and now, months after things went bad again, he was desperate. beyond incredibly desperate for some semblance of good. vegas apparently is the answer to that one.

and since the universe enjoys dangling temptation in his face, niall spots a very familiar frame standing at the bar. his entire body goes rigid, eyes locked, on whom he knows for absolute fact, is you, with a tall man.

mully notices the change in niall, eyes floating over in the general direction that niall seems to be locked in, when he spots you, “hey, s’tha-“

“shhh,” niall cuts him off instantly, watching the interaction you’re having very attentively. he watches you shoulder bump the man, his arm slinking around your neck in a quick squeeze.

“niall,” mully tries again, getting nothing more than a head bob from his friend, letting him know that he’s paying attention, but absolutely not taking his eyes off of you.

mully sighs, shaking his head, “if this isn’t a fuckin sign, i dont know what is.”

“she’s with a fuckin man, mully,” niall snaps, unable to take his eyes away.

christ, he is so fucking daft, mully thinks to himself. “mate, you have no idea who that is. you wanted to get away, you were searching for something good. i said vegas, vegas of all fuckin places. where there’s thousands of fuckin bars, and she’s here. aren’t you the one who told me that you’d inevitably bump into each other again ? looks like you’re standing in it.”

“she’s with someone,” niall groans, biting his lip. “besides, what am i supposed to say ? i was a real fuckin prick, please fix me again ? christ mully, she’s not as daft as you seem to think i am.”

mully laughs loudly at that, “no, i know you’re as daft as i make you out to be. you’re too fuckin blind to see it. but yes, if she’s everything you’ve made her out to be, you need to talk to her. for real. not just a cryptic break up in the middle of a fucking bar. at the very least, please just talk to her mate. for everyone’s sanity, including your own, give her some credit.”

niall watches attentively as you find a table with the mystery man on your heel, holding drinks and shots, settling yourselves at the chosen empty table.

and niall keeps watch, trying to figure out how you’re both interacting with each other. he reaches over for mully’s beer, gulping it down, as his is long finished.

mully gives him a questioning look as niall gets up suddenly, ignoring whatever the lads were saying, beelining for your table. he couldn’t miss the opportunity, now that the man had walked off to the bar, leaving you alone at your table.

you never saw him approaching. had no idea he was here. but a shiver ran through your spine as his hand settles on the back of the wooden chair beside you, fingers tapping. “‘s this seat taken ?”

you didn’t have to look up to know it was him. you’d recognize his hand anywhere. as weird as it may sound, this exact moment happened in vancouver, and you can still vividly picture his hand from the fateful night almost 2 years ago.

you’d recognize his voice anywhere too. it was ingrained on your brain, making your heart beat rapidly through your chest at the sound of it in such close proximity. you’d recognize his smell anywhere as well. it was so fucking comforting. it was so fucking niall. fuck. he was right here.

you chance looking up at him, eyes locked with his own, as you delicately shake your head, “s’not taken.”

niall bites his lip, hard enough to draw a bit of blood, metallic taste sitting uncomfortably on his tongue. he’s looking at you, and your eyes are looking right back, and for the second time in his life, it’s not happiness looking back. and fuck, if he didn’t feel guilty before, he sure as fuck does now.

“petal,” niall whispers, fingers reaching out to softly run over your arm. his hand recoils into a tight fist, eyes shut, because fuck he hasn’t felt you in over a year. that familiar shock of warmth and softness and comfort and electricity ran through his fingertips, shooting to squeeze at his heart.

as his eyes blink open, he finds you looking back at him, the same pain mirrored in both your eyes. niall takes a deep breath, in search for some sort of grounding, when his vision falls to your chest.

you can tell immediately that he’s noticed. his eyes are wide, chest beating rapidly, air seemingly knocked out of him, as he processes the small rose charm hanging from the delicate chain on your neck.

“you’re still wearing it,” he murmurs, struggling to find a breath, his fingers reaching out to lightly touch the charm he remembers so vividly.

“v’never taken it off,” you reply just as quietly, biting on your lip, blushing, as you admit that to him. “never had the heart to.”

“fuck,” niall breathes, shaking his head, “can we go somewhere and talk ?” he sees the hesitation in your eyes, and really, he cannot blame you. could not be mad if you chose to walk away without so much as a second thought. but he needed to try. “please, petal, really need to explain,” he adds. “unless,” he mumbles, nodding towards the seemingly forgotten seat in front of you.

“no, no,” you shake your head. “s’my brother. his fiancé was joining us soon. they’re getting married tomorrow, the whole dinky tacky elvis chapel wedding thing,” you explain, knowing exactly what the scene may have looked like.

as you notice him visibly relax, you take a deep breath, fighting with yourself, ultimately deciding that whatever comes out of this talk, at least you’d have answers. answers you never thought you’d have. to the questions that have so heavily weighed on you for so long now.

“we’re staying at this hotel,” you add, looking up at him. “we can talk in my room if you’d like ?”

“lead the way,” he hums, taking your hand in his to help you back up to your feet, following you to the elevators.

as you both stand in the elevator, you can’t help but be sucked into the parallel of this moment. it’s so similar to the night you met, you end up wondering if this is some sort of do over. the universe granting you with a second chance. your heart is beating out of your chest, your mind absolutely reeling. you can feel niall’s eyes scanning over you, feel his presence wash over you for the first time in so long.

there’s always been such an incredible pull towards niall that you can’t quite seem to explain. you close your eyes, biting on your lip, as you fight the overpowering urge to crumble into his arms. the only thing holding you back, being the thinning willpower of your still wounded heart.

niall follows you silently, down the hall, and up to your door. he watches you fumble with the keycard, again, unsure of whether he’s more nervous or excited to get beyond the threshold.

the last thing he expected, however, as he closes the door behind himself, is to catch a glimpse of your tear filled eyes, just before he feels you pressed against him, face buried in his neck in an attempt to conceal the tears.

your arms wrap tightly around niall’s body, hands fisted in his tshirt, taking a deep breath, as you feel your body start to tremble.

“petal,” niall breathes, his heart feeling too swollen to fit in his chest, frog stuck in his throat, as he feels himself crumble for you. he winds his arms around your shoulders, hands soothingly rubbing your back, squeezing you as tight as he can, face buried in the top of your head. “i’m so sorry, pet. you didn’t fuckin deserve any of that.”

your hands glide down from his back to his hips, gripping onto him, pulling your face from niall’s neck, to look up at him, “wanted to talk, yeah ? i really need you to explain,” you hum, nodding towards the bed. you slip out of his arms, sitting with your back against the headboard, legs crossed.

niall mimics your position, sitting in the middle of the mattress, legs crisscrossed like yours, knees almost bumping into each other, as he faces you.

you look at him expectantly, wanting to hear him out. wanting to hear his side of the story. hear what exactly was going on last year.

“i dont think i ever told you- no, i know i never told you,” niall corrects himself, shaking his head. “but, after mexico, i really started to look at you differently,” he decides to jump right in, laying it all out. “when we met up in italy, i did rent that place for you. and then in sweden, i met up with you because i wanted to be with you on valentines day. and when i called while you were in south korea, i was ready to fly you out and rent a house for you in the uk so i could have you close for a bit.”

you’re left stunned, your brain processing this information. you’re sure your face is showing all the emotions you seem to be hurled through. confusion, being the main one.

“my home life became an absolute living hell,” he continues. “i wanted you. wanted to be with you more than anything. and that scared me, because it was supposed to just be one night in vancouver. what hap-“

“what happens in canada, stays in canada,” you murmur, nodding. “you know, i dont even understand why i feel the need for this explanation so badly. i knew going into this, the second agreement i guess, since we broke that canada rule pretty quick. but, i knew what i was singing up for. i knew that one day you’d have to end this. i was the side piece.”

stab. stab, stab, stab, stab, stab. stab. for a moment, niall wishes he was actually being stabbed. apparently your brain shuts down for too much physical pain. but emotional pain, you have to live that shit. and right now, niall was being ripped apart by it.

“you’ve said that before,” niall recounts, eyes closed, as he takes a deep breath, his hand raking through his hair. “knew what you were signing up for,” he quotes from you. “said it at the cafe in mexico. hurt me just as much to hear it then as it does now,” he murmurs, taking another deep breath. “i think, for the both of us, somewhere along the line, this relationship became more than we could have ever even imagined signing up for. and fuck, please, petal, you were always so much more than a side piece.”

“so what did this relationship become for you ?” you chance asking. “because i always knew that you enjoyed the comfort and safety and trust that i seem to be able to give you. i always knew that was a big part of it.”

“i was falling so hard for you,” he whispers, like a secret spoken into the calm of the evening. a stark contrast from the vegas party goers just now ramping up for the night.

“i used to tell you that you were intoxicating. but i never explained what i meant by that,” he hums, taking a breath. “your skin is softer than anything i’ve ever felt. your smell is the most comforting mix of lavender, honey, and coffee, and it has me fuckin obsessed. your presence relaxes and calms me more than anyone i’ve ever been around. your voice is so smooth, i wish i could bottle it up and listen whenever i wanted. everything, absolutely everything, was more, whenever i was with you. more relaxing, more happy, more comfortable, more safe, more feeling, more intensity. i thought i had met my perfect person, but the moment i sat next to you in vancouver, i knew, for fuckin fact, i was sitting with my perfect person. it just took me a really long time to even admit that to myself. i guess i was scared to lose the life i had.”

he watches as unshed tears gather up in your eyes, watches you try to blink them away, as one stray tear cascades down your cheek. niall’s quick to wipe it clean, fingertips brushing over your cheek, as his hand settles in your lap.

your fingers intertwine themselves with niall’s own, his thumb rubbing soothingly against your knuckles. “do you want to know why i’m here, petal ?”

you nod, biting your lip, as you look up at him, eyes still red rimmed and increasingly full of tears, not trusting your voice at the moment.

“i needed to escape again. my home life is bad again. knowing that you’re out in the world, living your life and it’s not with me. knowing that there’s someone so perfect for me. someone that makes me feel better than i’ve literally ever felt. but i couldn’t see you,” he shakes his head, “s’been increasingly hard. i’ve had more fights and disagreements, more uncomfortable silences and awkward encounters, in the last year as i think i’ve ever had.”

“but then, why ?” you murmur quietly, your voice catching in your throat, your head still busy processing all of this new information. “why did you walk away from this when you did ?”

“i was scared,” he admits again. “scared because if i bring you into my life, for real, maybe this fantasy bubble we’ve been living in wont be able to thrive. it’ll just be real life, and i could never forgive myself if bringing you into my life ultimately leads to our demise.”

“that doesn’t make sense,” you furrow your eyebrows. “instead of living happily with me, with the off chance that we end up unhappy with each other, you chose to end it and make us both unhappy right away. no shot at any happiness.”

“i didn’t say it made sense,” he hums, hand squeezing yours. “and trust me, mully gave me so much shite for it. i just couldn’t live with myself anymore. couldn’t live with how addicted i was to you and how i couldn’t fucking have you the way i wanted. it was tearing me up, hurting me so bad. it was easier to push you aside, and i’m the biggest prick on the planet for it.”

“yeah, you are,” you sigh, the joking tone not going unnoticed. “i had fallen for you. i can properly say that i was in love with you,” you admit out loud for the first time. “and you really hurt me. didn’t even give me so much as an explanation. i had to just walk away. nothing else i could do,” you explain, as niall grips into your hands harder, bringing them up to his lips, kissing softly along your knuckles, eyes closed as he feels the pain you went through.

“it killed me even more when i was travelling for work, and i knew we were in the same city,” you murmur, niall’s entire body deflating, his forehead now resting against your hands that he’s holding onto for dear life, in fear that you’ll disappear from him again.

“fuck,” he breathes wetly, a few tears gliding down his flushed cheeks. “fuck, how many, petal ? how many times ? i didn’t know, fuck. fuck. when ?”

you poke your thumb out of his hold, stroking his skin gently, looking to comfort him in any way possible. you really hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just letting him know. “five,” you mumble quietly. “i was in spain at the time of some golf festival, in brazil at the same time as your summer festival, in france during fashion week, in new york city during the jingle ball, and in california while you were doing promo.”

niall blinks up at you, letting go of your hands in favour of ghosting his over your hips, “can i ?” he whispers.

you find yourself nodding, wanting to be comforted too at the moment. you dont understand what you’re feeling at all. angry, sad, happy, elated, confused, shocked, heavy, light, scared, and it all jumbled itself into some kind of clustered numbness. you wanted to feel. feel him again.

his hands land on your hips, fingers giving a squeeze as his thumbs rub lightly, complete and total familiarity hitting him hard. without so much as a second thought, his body took over. like muscle memory in a sense, he pulls you into his lap, your bum settled between his knees, legs wrapped around his waist, niall latching onto you.

he had you in his hold again. there was no way in hell he was ever letting go this time. niall’s arms were wound tight around you, his face buried in your shoulder.

you feel yourself relaxing into him, muscle memory of your own, as your senses are overtaken by niall. his smell, his touch, his calming breaths, the tiny pecks he cant help himself from trailing over your collarbone, air fanning over your skin as he speaks, “gonna make it up to you, petal. if you’ll let me,” he adds with a shake to his voice. nerves taking over, making him squeeze you tighter, knowing full well that this may be the last time he ever sees you.

“i know i hurt you, but i’ll spend the rest of my fucking life making it up to you, sweet girl,” he whispers, face tucked into your neck, breathing you in for a moment, before looking up at you, trying to decipher your thoughts.

but truthfully, you didn’t know what to think. you were all consumed by the presence you’ve done nothing but crave for the past 13 months. on the other hand, you’re left wounded by everything that transpired.

niall notes your hesitation, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed, as he remembers something you told him back in vancouver, “have a little faith, petal,” he whispers, eyes filling with tears, the heaviness of the moment really hitting him. “can’t tell me any of this is a coincidence. not anymore. i know you feel it too, pretty girl.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, your own filling with tears as well, taking a shaky breath as your hands settle on niall’s neck and jaw, pulling him in to slot your lips with his.

niall groans out, in slight surprise, taking a deep breath through his nose, as if life was filling his lungs again. his arms wrap around you impossibly tighter, his tongue soothing your bottom lip as he sucks on it lightly.

as your lip snaps back into position, niall’s forehead rests against yours, momentarily catching his breath, before dipping back in. but you’re quicker than he is, pulling away, just slightly out of reach.

“petal ?” he blinks his eyes open to find yours already staring back at him, looking at you in question, nerves bubbling up into his chest.

“i can’t just leave this time,” you whisper, seeing relief wash over him, ready to give you absolutely anything you asked for. “it needs to be different, niall.”

“anything, petal, fuck, i’ll do anything for you,” he groans, his lips pressing to yours again, savouring every moment, every detail. taking in the intensity of you again. getting lost in you. it’s almost as if no time had past. the ease of falling back into you, the immediate calm, easy, perfect, so fucking right. none of it goes past him, finally admitting everything to himself, and falling into this fully.

niall lays you down on the mattress, hovering above you, lips never having parted from yours, too enthralled in the bursting feeling that is you. how your kisses are so much better than any kisses he’s ever had. is it the lingering coffee taste, that’s become such a signature in his brain ? is it the softness of your lips brushing up against his ? is it the smoothness of your tongue darting out for tastes of him, and just more more more ? is it the sharp nibble of your teeth, biting at his kiss raw skin ? or is it just because it’s you, his beautiful petal ?

he may never find out, and he’s okay with that, as long as these kisses keep coming. in an effort to calm himself down, at least slightly, niall kisses down to your chin, taking his time over your jaw to your neck.

as he makes his way slowly down your chest, your thanktop fairly low cut, giving niall tons of access. and based on the hardening outline of your nipples, he could guess that you’d foregone a bra again. he eventually finds himself ghosting his palms over the sides of your breasts, looking up at you in question, “can i, petal ?”

you look down at him, nodding, your tits quickly spilling out of your top, niall’s mouth immediately attached to your right nipple. your hand instinctually, gripped into his hair, keeping him in place to work over your pebbled nipple.

he groans against your skin, feeling so all consumed by you. his eyes flick up to yours, melting at the sight of you. calm, ease, comfort, relief, all good things shining back at him through your gaze.

niall’s tongue flicks over your nipple, mouth leaving your breast to meld with yours again. he kisses you slowly, lips pressed hard against yours, mumbling a low, “missed you so fuckin much.”

you groan, pulling him back to your mouth, fingers buried deep into his hair, having a strong hold on his roots, feeling like this is too good to be true. like if he’ll evaporate before your eyes.

with one leg spread out, and your other leg bent at the knee, foot planted firmly on the bed, niall slotted between your legs, you can feel his cock stiffening up against your hip. you instinctively roll your body up into his, a breathy moan working its way out of niall’s chest.

“fuck, wanna see you pet,” he groans, gripping into your tanktop, working it down over your hips, taking your pants and panties along, down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him.

niall’s eyes roam over you, biting his lip, as he realizes the only thing you’re wearing is the rose charm necklace. it makes him feel at home. vulnerable, yet comfortable.

as he’s about to lean back into you, searching for your mouth again, your hands fall onto his chest, pushing him back slightly, “want you to strip too.”

with the words barely out of your mouth, niall’s shirt is discarded onto the ground, pants shimmied off his legs, lips mingling with yours in a quick kiss, before trailing nips and sucks down your body.

he settles himself between your thighs, hands pressing both your legs open, his eyes settled right on your glistening centre for the first time in over a year.

you can hear the groan bubble out of niall’s chest, whispering, “so fuckin gorgeous, my beautiful petal,” breath fanning over your heat, before his tongue darts out, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

you moan, hips bucking up in search for more, niall groaning again, “fuck, so good,” dipping down for another taste, “missed your cunt, missed you so fucking much.”

and with that, he delves right in. his mouth snogging over your pussy, no rhyme or reason, completely lost in your smell, your taste, your softness, your warmth.

niall sucks back your arousal every time another wave bubbles out of you, his tongue lapping at your inner walls, before flicking expertly over your clit. his arms wrapped themselves under your thighs, hands resting on your waist, holding you into position to keep you from wiggling too much.

your brain was an absolute mess, the only thing you could focus on was niall. you were a moaning mess, one hand tucked into niall’s hair, the other fisting the sheets, your ears ringing too loudly to hear his own groans. your skin was prickling, body completely at ease in the presence of someone so familiar. it was so easy to fall back into this with him, if you weren’t so fuckin blissed out, you might be a bit scared of it.

his tongue keeps flicking over your clit, sucking it tightly into his mouth, teeth nipping softly over your sensitive bud. you could feel your stomach muscles starting to twitch, legs trembling more and more erratically, as the telltale signs of your orgasm start approaching quickly.

“fuck, niall, m’gonna cum,” you whimper, legs attempting to close on his head.

you can feel him moaning against your centre, hands slipping from your waist to your thighs, keeping your legs spread for him, as he can feel your cunt starting to clench. he laps and sucks at the creaminess of your orgasm, groaning breathily at the sweet taste of your high.

your muscles tense up, trembling through your high, feeling the long licks of niall’s tongue working you through.

as you start to come down, he rests his forehead against your mound, eyes locked on your soaked pussy, biting his lip, watching one of his fingers slink into you. he couldn’t help himself, he was so fuckin lost in you. he knew you were still coming down, knew you were sensitive, but fuck, he wanted to feel it all, right now.

a loud moan escapes your lips, back arching off the bed, trying to escape his tight grip. but niall’s much stronger than you are, pinning your hips down to the bed, curling his finger right up against your sweet spot. he didn’t even have to look for it, knew exactly where it was. he swears, he could draw a full map of your body with ease.

“fuck, pup, look at you. taking me so fuckin well, yeah ? made for me, sweet girl,” he hums, watching your legs shake, your inner walls starting to clamp down on his finger, completely abusing your spongey spot.

“f-fuck, fuck, niall-“ you whimper, hips wiggling on their own accord. “s’too much, m’gonna burst,” you whine shakily, another orgasm ripping through you.

“let it go, puppy,” niall groans, watching the orgasm burst through you, squirting on his hand, mouth, neck, and chest, due to his incredibly close proximity. “fuck, yes, that’s it, pretty girl. fuckin soak me so good. christ i missed your cunt.”

without any opportunity to come down from either of your orgasms, with niall’s finger still working inside you, his mouth is latched back onto your clit, tongue licking up your orgasm.

“niall,” you whimper loudly, hips rolling into ? away from ? his mouth, unsure of what your body truly wanted at that moment. you were already chasing another orgasm, feeling better than you remember feeling in the last year. but your pussy was so sensitive, you could swear you were going to burst again. “fuck, m’gonna- gonna again,” you groan out, losing your words.

“that’s it, puppy,” niall groans, pulling his mouth away just enough to look up at you properly, your eyes falling on his absolutely drenched face and neck. thankfully you were too overtaken by euphoria to be embarrassed.

“show me what i’ve been missing, yeah ?” he coos, a second finger entering you alongside the first, mouth delving back into your cunt.

your eyes roll back, a loud moan of profanities mixed with his name echoing through the room, as you cum again, soaking him and the sheets below even more.

niall groans again, unable to contain any of the sounds that his body is so desperate to make, sucking the squirt right out of you, swallowing down as much as he can.

“fuckin christ, puppy,” you can feel him groan against your heat, your entire body twitching with the feel of his breath against you. “missed this. fuck, missed you so much.”

he slowly pulls his fingers away, watching your cunt clench around nothing, biting into his lip, eyes raking up to find your face, “okay, pet ?”

“mhmm,” you hum, nodding, blissful smile on your face, taking in just how wrecked he looks from eating your pussy. “lookin so good right now, ni,” you murmur, sighing around a smile, looking up at him cheekily.

he notices the smirky look on your face, eyebrows furrowing, “what’s going through that mind of yours ?”

“remember that night in vancouver ?” you ask. “you took a photo of me. said you didn’t wanna forget that moment.”

niall smiles at the memory, because fuck, how could he forget ? he’s looked at that picture more times than he even wishes to think of. “course i remember, petal.”

“s’my turn,” you coo, blushing slightly. “dont wanna forget the way you look right now. you’re fuckin glowing niall,” you giggle, “and not just because i soaked you. i dont know if you realized how well i could read you, but i feel like i haven’t seen this true, happy you in a really really long time.”

niall sighs, eyes looking down as he collects himself, blinking back up at you, “it’s because of you,” he hums. “m’happy because i’m with you. and i wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles, reaching down off the bed to fiddle with your pants, digging through your pockets to grip your phone, passing it to you.

“dont mind that you take a photo,” he bites his lip, “but i have a request.” without so much as another form of explanation, niall lays down next to you, guiding your arm up, to take a photo of the both of you together.

you blush, tucking your face into his cheek, a big smile taking over your features. upon looking back at the photo, your heart melts at how incredibly blissfully content, happy, comfortable, fucked out you both look. you hope to be able to cherish these kinds of moments for a very very long time.

niall takes the phone from your hand, dropping it further down the mattress, rolling himself on top of you, kissing you deeply, tongue dipping into your mouth at the first opportunity. his fingers ghost over your neck, murmuring against your lips, “how you feeling pup ? how’s your cunt ?”

your tongue pokes out to playfully lick at his bottom lip, smiling at him, “m’feeling amazing. m’sure my cunt would say the same. want your cock, wanna feel it again, niall, please.”

his teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard, his rock hard, bare length rolling through your folds. you both moan simultaneously, niall at feeling the slick warmth of your arousal coating his prick, and you at the over sensitivity of his tip bumping into your clit.

“c’mon,” you whimper, not wanting any more teasing, your body absolutely craving him, hips lifting from the bed, in hopes that his member stays snagged into your entrance.

but niall rolls his hips just right, the tip of his cock entering you effortlessly, your walls stretching around his length, welcoming him.

as he bottoms out, his head falls to your chest, mouthing at your breasts to keep himself distracted from the overwhelming feeling of you. how wet you are, how tight you are, how fucking perfect you are. he feels fully consumed by you, getting completely lost in it.

“fuckin hell, puppy, m’not gonna last,” he groans against your skin, stomach muscles already trembling, “missed you so fuckin much, fuck, you’re the best. best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you gasp for breath, your mind numbing at the feel of niall. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his bum, needing him close. your hands card through his hair, fingertips tingling at the silkiness of his brown locks, grounding yourself from the hard thrusting, his cock reaching depths of you that no one else has ever seemed to reach.

“niall,” you whimper, making him look up at you, watching your face. “m’gon-gonna cum again. fuck, fu- missed you so much. you have no idea, mi-missed you so fucking much,” you babble, tears running down your cheeks.

overwhelmed. that’s the word you’d both been searching for. although it seemed more than your basic overwhelm, you wouldn’t know how else to describe it.

niall takes in the emotional state you seem to be in, his forehead resting against yours, one of his hands finding its way to your throat, laying on your neck softly, “m’right here pup, right here with you. not going anywhere, ever again. you gonna cum for me ? hmm ? milk me dry, puppy,” he coos, his fingers gripping into the sides of your throat, cutting off the airflow to your brain.

in an instant, your cunt is clamped down around his cock, tighter than niall even remembers, your orgasm ripping through your body. you’re a moaning mess, thighs squeezing his hips tightly, your entire being tingling in over sensitivity, niall feeling you soak his cock again.

“yes, pup, just like that,” he groans, the hold on your throat loosening, as his orgasm hits him as well, your pussy pulling every last drop from him.

as you both work at catching your breath, niall kisses along your collarbone and neck, fingertips rubbing over any bit of skin he can reach.

“fuckin soaked your bed, pet,” niall murmurs, light airy chuckle leaving his lips.

“was too good, ni,” you whisper breathily, body spent, not even caring that you’re literally laying in a puddle.

“wanna come stay with me tonight ?” he asks tentatively, knowing you’d agreed things would be different, but not having lined up what exactly that meant. “can’t have ya staying in a wet bed.”

you giggle, blush rising from your chest to your neck and cheeks, “that’s so embarrassing, fuck,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “i dont wanna impose. can always crash with my cousin.”

“not imposing, petal,” he whispers. “want you to. if you want to that is ?”

you smile bashfully, niall noticing the sparkle in your eye, the larger your smile becomes, “of course i want to. wish i never had to say goodbye.”

niall bites his lip, thinking everything over as quickly as he can, pecking your lips, “tomorrow, i’ll need to fly home,” he explains, mouth ghosting yours. “give me a week, tops. and i’ll come find you. wherever you are, i’ll get myself to you. everything will be different, petal. for the better. i promise. just have a little faith in me.”

Part 10

……

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tags : @acesofspadess @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kathb59 @jerseygirlinca

#niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan series #niall horan masterlist #niall horan blurb #niall horan one shot #niall horan imagine #niall horan smut #smut #one direction #hello lovers #niall horan x you #niall horan x reader #niall horan writings #writings #justmeinatree

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chronicowboy · 10 months

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you left your mark on this heart | 6k

(OR: buck is medically diagnosed with butterflies, it takes a medical professional for him to see the pattern right under his nose)

Buck isn't the same twenty-eight-year-old kid who pushes beyond all his boundaries and ignores an ache in his leg mindless of consequences until said consequences are coughed up with blood in front of his family and friends. He's grown, he's lived, he's died, and he's no longer defining himself by his job as the be-all and end-all. He's thirty-one, and his back aches after sleeping on Eddie's couch for a night, and he's maybe slightly terrified of returning to work after a bolt of lightning went through him like a carving fork through meat. So, he's almost relieved when he notices the oddity in his heartbeat.

The first time he notices it is when he escapes the endless rota of visitors at his loft for the warm embrace of the Diaz house. It's hard to focus on it when Eddie smiles at him like he's been waiting for this to happen since Buck left the hospital and yet still it's the smile of a man discovering he's won the lottery. It's hard to focus on it when Eddie calls him sir and looks at him like he's trying to see through Buck's chest to make sure his heart is still beating away—looks like he's trying to decide if it would be too much to ask to take care of Buck's heart for him, to tuck it right next to his own in his chest and promise to keep it going for as long as his. It's hard to focus on it when Eddie is unpicking all of his most carefully stitched wounds and laying his insides at Buck's feet just because he asked.

So, he forgets about it until Dr Salazar tells him he can go back to work.

"Unless there's anything else I should know," she says with a raised eyebrow when his silence lasts a little too long.

"I don't think it's anything, but..." Buck chews on his lips for a moment before rubbing an absent hand over his sternum. "Recently, I've been getting these... Flutters?"

It's a stupid word, makes him feel like a teenager discovering butterflies when their crush's hand brushes against theirs, but it's the only way he can describe the sensation. His heart doesn't race, it doesn't skip a beat or palpitate or clench—that's why it had been so easy to forget. It just... flutters. Two beats for the price of one before it falls back into it's normal rhythm as quickly as it had fallen out of it.

"Flutters," Dr Salazar repeats not unkindly. Buck nods, a light flush of embarrassment crawling across the bridge of his nose.

"I know how it sound and I really don't think it's anything to worry about, I just..."

"Better safe than sorry," she replies, examining something on her screen. "We've done so many tests, Buck. There's not a single anomaly in your heartbeat. You have one of the healthiest hearts I've ever seen considering that you just got struck by lightning." She shrugs slightly. "So, I think you're probably right about it being nothing. But I want you to grab a notebook from the store on your way home and just start jotting down whenever it happens. Date, rough time, where you are, what you're doing, anything that might be relevant. I'll schedule a follow-up appointment for a week from now, and we'll look at your findings together. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah, that's good actually." Buck takes a deep breath, rubbing his palms on his jeans. "Can I still go back to work or..."

"I don't see why not." She smiles at him gently, understanding. "But if you want to wait, that's more than okay. Always good to be cautious after something like this. And I'm grateful that you've told me about this, I know you might not have a few years ago." Buck knows that it's part of her job to read his medical history, to find out about blood clots and pulmonary embolisms, but it still makes him uneasy all the same, being known like this, for his worst moments. "If the flutters get worse, start feeling more dangerous than just flutters, do not hesitate to call me or check yourself into urgent care. And I know you're surrounded by people with extensive medical knowledge, so I recommend telling at least one of them. Especially a colleague if you are going back to work. Just so there's someone to look out for you in case it does get worse."

"Okay." Buck sighs, nods to himself. "Thanks, doc. See you in a week."

"See you in a week, Buck." Dr Salazar walks him to the door, grabbing a lollipop from the jar by the exit just before he goes. "For telling me." She winks as she presses it into his hand, and Buck snorts as he tears the plastic away and pops it into his mouth.

(keep reading on ao3)

@danielsousa @gracelcdomas @jamietarts @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @buddstiel @organizedstardust @theoneandonlypigeon @anatargmova @alyxmastershipper @buckley-diaz-rules @blazeturbo102 @panbuckley @slowlyfoggydestiny @thatnamewill-probably-change @compactdiscmp3 @batgrldes @scattered-winter

#sami rambles #okay i had no idea how this got to 6k i was convinced it was like 3k max #i am absolutely terrible at guessing the length of fics what is wrong with me #anyway she's cute #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic

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vampire-exgirlfriend · 2 years

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Morningstar

Pairing: vampire!Eddie Munson x femreader

Rating: E

Words: 6k

Warnings: mention of a dead body, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, smut (unprotected, blood play).

A/N: if you know @magpie-to-the-morning or myself, you know that we are both weird girls who thrive on all things dark and spooky. So when we started hearing vampire Eddie theories floating around (yes, Emma saw it coming before the rest of us), we had to team up and bring our baby boy back (finale? what finale?). And in doing so we learned how well we work together, how we compliment each other and somehow share a weird gothy love language.

Morningstar is a fic for our fellow weird girls, our fellow outcasts. It's a love letter to them, and to Eddie Munson, who deserves the same care and protection he showed the little lost sheepies.

Beta'd by @jadore-andor without whom Alex is nothing and for whom Emma is eternally grateful.

alex masterlist | emma masterlist | ao3

Part One - A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night | Part Two | Part Three

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Your friend bit her lip, eyeing the darkness beyond her trailer’s porchlight as if its lengthening shadows would reach out and snatch you right off the concrete steps. “Hawkins is… different, since you left. It’s been worse since the earthquake.” She sounded nervous, enough so that goosebumps pebbled over the skin of your arms.

Still, you weren’t one to be daunted by the creeping feeling of dread that seemed to have gained a chokehold on your hometown.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you know me. I like different.” You flashed her a reassuring grin and, with a wave, set out for the dirt track leading through the woods. You’d walked home this way dozens of times, hundreds - just not since you went away to college last fall. It’s what had kept you insulated from the bizarre rumors flying around town - lab experiments gone wrong, monsters on the loose, satanic cults. Even the very real and tragic deaths didn’t ring true, and you’d flat out laughed at the idea of Eddie Munson being some sort of serial killer. It was the same small town ignorance you’d fled back in September, the same gossip and petty-mindedness, albeit on a scale that had everyone feeling tense enough to snap.

It was a relief to be away from that feeling, surrounded by the familiar trees that had been the background of your dizzy daydreams as a child. Out here you had felt safe fantasizing about the things that went bump in the night without fear of what your peers would think, how they might judge you for your darker interests. Here in the woods, there was ample space to imagine werewolves and witches and vampires, and where you might fit among them. Even as you got older and your daydreams changed, it was your favorite place to lose a few hours, your headphones firmly over your ears as you sprawled on a blanket to write in your journal.

A cool breeze murmured through the branches overhead and spring peepers trilled in the distance, their nighttime chorus punctuated by the plaintive calls of nightbirds. You took a deep breath, savoring the peace, as you made your way through the woods. As you walked, you debated whether you wanted a night alone or if you would rather call Robin and finally give in to her pleas of spending an evening with her and Steve Harrington - a pair you could still hardly imagine actually hanging out together. But she swore he was cool and no longer the douchey jock you remembered before you left for college.

You were lost in your own thoughts, not noticing when the birds fell silent. Something tugged at the back of your mind when even the frogs stopped calling, but you were too busy ruminating over the empty months ahead to notice the shift in the air, the pervading sense of wrongness creeping up on you now that the sky had turned black.

Until you nearly tripped over the bodies…

The toe of your boot hit something solid, shocking you to a stop. You had assumed it was a mass of leaves, a random pile left behind by some kids. But that…that was hair, dark and ashy. And that was a hand, outstretched and pale as bone in the moonlight. Your stomach rolled, your hand covering your mouth to hold back the bile that rose in your throat. It smelled like death, you realized, like blood and sickly sweet rot. But then there was movement, just a shifting beneath the dirt that sent the leaves scattering, and from the lump of foliage, Eddie Munson looked up at you, his eyes black in the night. Andy, that creep, with his stupid curly hair and letterman jacket, lay motionless beneath Eddie, his fingers clawing into the dirt even in death.

Andy was dead. The thought slammed through your mind but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad about it, not even as you gazed into his lifeless face, his eyes dull as they stared into nothingness. No, you didn’t feel bad, not after what he had tried to do last summer.

Eddie groaned and it stirred something in you, snapping your awareness back into place. You dropped beside him, hands hovering over his hair, hair face, his chest. There was blood, too much blood, smeared across his mouth and jaw and you had no idea who it belonged to - him or Andy. You knew how it looked, how freakish and fantastical, and your mind began to scream one impossible word.

Vampire.

"Hey Munson," you breathed, pushing away the ridiculous thought. "Remember me?" You asked softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. He mumbled your name, recognition flashing across his glassy eyes, the syllables garbled as he coughed and more blood splattered over his face, little freckles of red scattered now over your neck and cheeks. "That's right." You tried to smile, tried to shove down the feeling of wrongness, of fear, that pricked up your spine. Your hands skated over his chest, fingertips softly probing for wounds. You had to get him out of there, had to get him help. He was freezing, too cold for the warmth of spring, and goosebumps again erupted over your arms.

Eddie’s fingers closed like a vise around your wrist, his rings biting into the bone, and you winced at the sudden display of strength, the cold power that snapped like a taut bowstring, thrumming through his touch. He whimpered then, a small pathetic sound that tugged at something in your lower belly.

You leaned in closer, concern creasing your brow, and startled when his grasp tightened even further, pulling you off balance and down into the leaf litter beside him.

“Eddie, what - “

He pressed against you and the words died in your throat. Your back was braced against something solid, your fingers scrabbling against the fake leather of Andy's letterman jacket. Dread clogged your throat when you realized exactly where you were, trapped between a dead man and the the most likely suspect for his murder. But this was Eddie. He couldn't be responsible for whatever had happened here. The Eddie you remembered was kind, if a little eccentric; all throughout highschool he'd always spared you a smile and because of it you had harbored a silly crush. His disdain for the "popular" kids was no secret, but he'd treated everyone else with basic kindness.

“I don’t even remember doing it,” Eddie murmured close to your ear. His voice was weak, shaken, a far cry from his usual boisterous nature. He sounded scared. Lost. “He found me in the woods, right after… I didn’t mean to.”

His eyes were pleading. For understanding? Forgiveness? Maybe just for you not to scramble up and run as far away as you could, leaving him bloody and alone. You reached out to stroke the lines of his cheek with trembling fingers. “Didn’t mean to do what, Eddie?”

Your voice shook as his cool breath fanned across your jaw, as he dragged himself over you and settled his weight on top of you. Your head spun, pulled in too many directions. How many times had you imagined this back in highschool? How many times had you thought about being brave and telling him that he was the best thing about Hawkins, aside from Robin, that thoughts of him had kept you up at night?

Again that sense of utter wrongness settled over you and the apprehension had you feeling skittish. His hair tickled your face as the wind shifted and you felt him go rigid above you, his hands gripping hard at your thighs as he fought to hold still. “To be a monster.”

You pulled back to look at him, brushing the hair from his face, hands cradling his jaw. “Eddie, you are not a monster, okay? Whatever happened here, we can figure it out. But you are not a monster.” Were you crazy for thinking so? Probably. But what you knew about Eddie Munson, romanticized schoolgirl fantasies or not, led you to truly believe that he was in no way some kind of beast.

“Then why do I feel like this?” Gone was the warm, familiar brown of his eyes, swallowed up by so much black. His gaze was locked on your mouth, darting between your lips and your throat, and when he spoke you saw the pointed tips of his canines, elongated in the light of the moon, and again your brain blared a single word at you.

Vampire.

Pulling in a trembling breath, your chest brushed his. You felt the air go still, the tension between you snapping. “I’m sorry,” he said with a whimper and then his mouth was at your neck, pain blooming hot and sudden. You shrieked, slapping at his shoulders and digging your heels into the soft ground, trying desperately to put distance between you. He snarled, the sound closer to something an animal would make and you realized that in this moment he might as well be a predator defending his kill.

Slowly, and then all at once, the agony shifted, becoming softer and melting into something decadent. There was a soft pulling sensation and the rasp of his tongue over your sensitive skin had you arching beneath him, all thoughts of escape floating from your mind. One of his hands dragged up your thigh and over the cage of your ribs to hold you still, the other moved your leg so he could settle more comfortably between your thighs. The world took on a dreamy sort of quality, delicate around the edges as everything began to go quiet. All you felt was Eddie’s mouth, his large hands, the way he began to grow hard against your center. The artfully ripped tights you wore beneath your skirt were hardly a barrier and you couldn’t help but roll your hips against him, moaning softly at the way he thrust forward in slow, dragging movements.

Sensation pulled at you, tendrils of want tugging you deeper into that waiting darkness. Your mind went deliciously blank, everything fading but the stroke of his tongue that matched the heartbeat between your legs. You found yourself all too eager to let go, to succumb to whatever it was that had you forgetting yourself, your nerves and better judgement. You could lie there for hours, all night, forever, but some lingering spark of self preservation flared within the darkening recesses of your mind.

“Eddie.” It was a feeble protest, barely audible over the sound of the wind caressing the leaves or his contented growls at your throat. “Eddie, stop. Not here.” When he didn’t respond you pulled yourself together as best you could and reached down, pinching the meat of his thigh. He yelped, the sound so out of place that a startled laugh burst from your throat, an almost hysterical sound. When he pulled away the moonlight caught in the fresh blood smeared across his mouth and jaw - your blood. The thought was staggering and for a moment you felt even more lightheaded, the trees above swaying as you sagged back against Andy.

Andy!

You shoved away from his body, untangling yourself from Eddie and shooting to your feet. Reaching up, you touched your neck gingerly. Your fingers came away red, shining, and you lurched forward. Eddie shoved himself from the ground, his hands coming to steady you, gripping your elbows gently. He glanced down at Andy, too many emotions flashing across his dark eyes to name. You turned, placing your body between them and retreating until your back rested against Eddie’s chest. Cocking your head, you surveyed the area, taking in the details you had missed earlier.

“Animal,” you said as it all clicked in your mind, the solution fitting together like puzzle pieces.

“What?” His voice was hoarse, raw.

“It looks like an animal got him,” you elaborated and felt Eddie go tense behind you. “Hey.” You turned and took his hand. It was cold against your palm and you could feel his hesitation as you brushed your thumb across the delicate skin. “Munson, look at me.”

With a shudder, Eddie lifted his gaze to meet yours, his head ducked and his body tensed as if to run.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know you. And you’re not an animal, or a monster, or whatever else this bullshit town has been claiming. Even with all of… this.” You kicked some leaves over Andy’s body and turned back to Eddie. “We can figure this out. Will you let me help you?”

When he finally nodded, you twined your fingers with his and tugged gently. “Come on, then. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

You led Eddie to your parents’ house, relieved that they’d chosen this week to take the cruise your mom had always droned on about. Even with having the whole basement recently converted into an apartment for you, bringing a wanted fugitive home would have invited all sorts of questions you weren’t sure you had the answers to.

Eddie looked even more lost inside, his hair tangled and torn, bloody, mud-streaked clothing jarring against the respectable wallpaper and aggressive cleanliness of your parents’ home. He startled when you opened the basement door and a shadow streaked through it, racing toward the two of you.

“It’s okay, it’s just my cat.”

The little black creature in question trotted into the light with an inquisitive “mrrp” and wound around your legs.

Eddie relaxed beside you. After a moment he crouched down and held his fingers out for the cat to sniff. “What’s his name?”

“Jonathan Barker.” When Eddie stared incredulously up at you you shrugged. “I was on a horror classics kick.”

“But Barker? I uh, don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s a cat.”

“What’s your point?”

“… Fair enough.” He chuckled, a little faintly, but amused all the same. Your heart lifted at the sheer familiarity of the sound. Jonathan Barker rubbed his cheek against the ripped denim at Eddie’s knee but darted away when Eddie reached to pet him. “Fine,” Eddie scoffed, unconvincingly. “I’m more of a dog person anyway.”

“Be nice, he’s had a hard life. I found him by the side of the road when he was a kitten and he’s always been a little skittish.” Jonathan Barker stared at Eddie with wide eyes from his perch on the back of the couch, as if agreeing with you.

Eddie fell quiet again as you led him down the creaking stairs and into your basement apartment. It was easier to breathe there, surrounded by battered pieces of mismatched yet comfortable furniture, Joy Division and Patti Smith posters, stacks of well-thumbed paperback books, milk crates full of albums and cassettes, and houseplants crowding every window well. The conversion had been your parents’ condition when you’d told them you needed some time off school. Your mother had already turned your room into a home gym and “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable down there, dear? You’ll have more room for all your… interests.”

Part of you suspected they were a little relieved to have you neatly tucked out of sight.

You moved towards the small kitchen area with the vague idea of making tea on the little hot plate. Having a task to focus on kept your mind from racing about what on earth you and Eddie were going to do next. You busied yourself with the familiar ritual for the next few minutes, giving both of you time to think. By the time you set a steaming ceramic mug in front of Eddie, his expression was less wild, his frame less taut with that kinetic, restless energy. He wrapped his hands around the mug’s warmth and didn’t quite meet your eyes as he asked “So, what happens now?” He took an experimental sip but pulled a face. At the flavor, you wondered? Or his attempt to get something other than blood into his system?

“Well, we should probably get you cleaned up,” you said softly, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes, the blood crusted across his face and neck. Dirt clung to him like a second skin and you could see how uncomfortable he was beneath the grime. You abandoned your mug on the counter, pushing off and walking across the room toward the closet by the bathroom and pulled down a few fluffy towels. Eddie’s shuffling footsteps followed you into the little room, and he stopped in the doorway while you turned the hot water knob. You moved to face him, finding him staring straight ahead, his brows bunched in confusion. Turning, you tracked his line of sight toward the mirror, his dirty image reflected back.

“I wasn’t sure I would actually show up,” he mumbled, reaching up and dragging his fingers over his cheek.

“Silver,” you said, watching him watch you.

“What?”

You shrugged. “Mirrors used to be backed in silver and the myth goes that silver is detrimental to…,” you paused as his eyes narrowed and waved your hands to dispel the building tension. “Well, you know. You’ll show up in pictures too,” you chirped, hoping to lighten the mood.

“How did you become the vampire expert?” A heavy brow rose and you fought the urge to fold your shoulders, to make yourself smaller under his gaze.

“I read a lot,” you snapped, suddenly defensive. After a long moment he nodded, shrugging off his vest. You startled when it hit the ground, heavy pins clattering against the tile, and turned to leave. His cold fingers wrapped tight around your wrist, stopping you from sliding past him.

Again, his eyes were pleading, soft and dark and lovely. “Stay,” he asked, “please.”

You thought the rapidfire emotional changes would give you whiplash, but you nodded, exhaling sharply, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms and you pulled it over his head, dropping it to lie with his vest. Angry marks were scattered across his torso, red and welted and poorly healed. A gasp escaped your mouth as you took it in, reaching forward and gingerly trailing your fingers over the wounds. “Eddie, what happened to you?” Your voice was hushed, quiet as the steam from the shower began to cloud in the small space.

“It’s all a little blurry,” he murmured, his hands going for the buckle of his belt. He unclasped the mini handcuffs that held it together, deft fingers quickly working open the button of his jeans. Your eyes snapped back to his and you found him watching you hungrily. A chill danced up your spine at the sight, a mix of cold fear and delicious anticipation. You realized he was trying to distract you, obviously not wanting to answer the question. So you let him.

He side stepped you and you turned, not looking away and letting him press you against the door. The small of your back hit the wood and he kept coming, cocking his head as he crowded into your space. Reaching out, you rested your hands against his chest, your eyes going wide when you registered that there was no heartbeat against your palm. Eddie didn’t seem to notice as he leaned forward, a smug grin stretched across his mouth.

You wanted this. And it was obvious that he wanted it too, but it was almost too much right now and your head was spinning. “Give me your rings,” you murmured hurriedly, grasping for an excuse to take a moment and collect your thoughts. You tugged your lip between your teeth and he quirked a brow at you. “I’ll get them cleaned up for you.” His smirk softened into a smile and he stepped back, pulling them off one by one. The silver had burned him, leaving behind painful looking bruises and charred skin. You refused to react, knowing that he wouldn’t want your pity, and held out your hand for him to drop them into. They clinked together as you caught them and you pushed him lightly toward the shower. Eddie turned, dropping his pants and you couldn’t help but glance at his ass as he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the tub.

Gathering his filthy clothes, you pulled the door closed softly and padded back into the living room to toss his things into the washing machine, carefully undoing the clasps of his pins and setting them aside for safe-keeping. You set it to start before heading to the sink to get Eddie’s rings cleaned up. Soap, water, and some scrubbing had them shining again and you avoided thinking too hard about the fact that you were scrubbing human flesh from the metal. When you had finished, you flopped onto the couch and reached for the clear coat nail polish you kept on the side table next to your favorite bottle of black. You painted the clear gel over the silver, hoping it would form enough of a barrier to keep them from burning him again. His rings were as much a part of his persona as his vest and his wild halo of hair, and more than anything right now, he needed something comfortable and familiar.

To be fair, so did you. Once the rings were safely coated in a protective layer of nail polish and drying on your coffee table, you rose, stretched, and padded over to your dresser, opening the second drawer and pulling out a baggy t-shirt. You stripped, leaving your dirty clothes in a pile, and pulled the worn fabric over your head before heading for your record player. Soon, the driving synthetic beat and rough-edged vocals of the Psychedelic Furs drifted through the space.

“Forever Now? I guess that’s fitting.”

You whirled around, surprised to see Eddie leaning against the door jam, a towel around his waist and his arms wrapped around himself. Dark tendrils of hair framed his face in damp curls and his skin was scrubbed an angry pink, but he looked somewhat more settled, his brown eyes clearer.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises now.” He lifted his brows in a sarcastic show of being impressed with his own new abilities, even as he wrapped his arms more tightly around himself. “I uh, seem to have misplaced my clothes.”

“They’re in the wash. That Hellfire shirt might be a lost cause but I think I managed to save everything else. Come sit.” You jerked your head at the empty cushion beside you.

Eddie pushed off the wall and dropped beside you, carefully leaving space between you that crackled with things unsaid.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t even know.” Eddie scrubbed a large palm over his face. “More like myself, I guess? But still…”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.” You hated the lingering note of shame in his voice.

You swallowed but squared your shoulders. “We can fix that.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours. “No.”

“Eddie, it’s fine - “

“Jesus, no it isn’t!” You blinked at his outburst but he forged ahead. “I killed someone. I could have killed you.”

“Andy?”

“Don’t tell me I killed more of the basketball team.”

“Eddie, listen.” You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, to turn his face towards yours to make sure he heard you loud and clear. “That guy was a dick. He was probably out hunting you with his buddies, from what I’ve been hearing. If he didn’t attack you first, he would have and believe me, he wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it.” You shrugged dismissively and added “Besides, he tried to feel me up at a party last year. Fuck that guy, you did the world a favor.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling back and he opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him, pressing your fingers to his full mouth. He swallowed his reply, simply mumbling, “What a dick.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile and turning to face him more fully.

Eddie moved closer, his thigh pressed to your own. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, even as he raked his gaze down your throat. His fingertips brushed the hair from your neck and you shivered.

“What if I told you I liked it?” Your voice trembled, the confession making you feel unaccountably vulnerable, more exposed than even the hungry way Eddie eyed you.

“Jesus, Briar.” He shuddered and dragged his open mouth against your skin. His lips moved in a gentle kiss, a far cry from the searing torrent you craved.

“Why Briar?” It came out as a gasp as you twisted in his arms to climb into his lap.

“Because you found me in the forest. You caught me when I was spinning. Don’t let go.” Eddie’s tender hold tightened and his teeth sank into the delicate skin of your throat.

You tipped your head back and tangled your fingers in his hair. “I w-wanted this before today, you know. Always meant to say something, back in school.”

His lips still locked to your pulse point, Eddie made a questioning sound deep in his throat as if to ask Why didn’t you?

“The usual bullshit,” you hedged before adding, “I was scared.

Eddie pulled away at that, his mouth stained red and his brows lifted. “You’re not now?”

“I was,” you admitted. “Back in the woods when I found you. But then you opened your eyes.”

His eyes widened, something like awe lighting their brown depths.

His surprise would have been sweet if it didn’t wrench your heart to think someone caring for him in that way would be so astonishing. The thought snapped the tether holding you back and you leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss. The taste of copper burst on your tongue but beyond that shock it was simply him. His lips were surprisingly soft against your own, his eager mouth swallowing your shared groan, his tongue gliding against yours as he twisted and bore you down onto the sofa cushions.

He cleared his throat, nuzzling your cheek. "I don't think I can be gentle with you."

"I don't want you to," you murmured, twisting beneath him to pull him more fully on top of you. He drove a knee between your thighs and you couldn't help but grind against him as he licked a stripe up the column of your neck. His teeth scraped softly against your skin, his tongue following to lap up the thin line of blood that beaded there. Then he was grabbing you, his fingers digging into the meat of your waist and you clung to him, your nails trailing furrows down his back.

"Please," he whispered, his voice strained as you rubbed against him like a cat.

"Yes." You made sure to keep your voice steady, threading your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side. He inhaled, hissing your name, his breath chilly on your skin. You yelped when his teeth broke the skin once more, pain flaring through you before easing into something delicious, something sinful and indulgent. Your head dropped back and Eddie cradled the back of your neck, holding you still. He rolled his hips against you and you trailed your fingers over the expanse of his chest, down his abdomen to the hem of the towel. He growled and something in you snapped at the sound, wild, needy, and hot. You pulled impatiently at the loose knot at his hip and the towel fell away, his length twitching in your hand.

Eddie pulled away at your first stroke of his cock, red smeared across his mouth and down his chin. And when he kissed you, you tasted the metallic tang of your own blood. Your hand tightened around him and the sound he made was close to a snarl as he leaned forward and licked at the mess he'd made of your neck, trailing his hand down your body to rub against your center. You bucked your hips forward, searching out his touch and he obliged quickly, pushing your underwear to the side, finding you already wet for him. His thumb brushed your clit and you gasped, your back arching off the couch.

"More," you groaned between clenched teeth, hitching one leg higher on his waist. Two thick fingers pierced you as he placed wet, open mouthed kisses to your chest, licking at the hollow of your clavicle and mumbling your name. He pressed his hips forward, thrusting into the tight grip of your fist.

His fingers were cool against your heated flesh, soothing you even as he made you writhe and buck beneath his hand. You felt loose, wanton, and need coiled in your belly as you whimpered for his touch.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “You’re so fucking warm.”

You clasped the back of his neck and pulled him closer as you guided his cock where you needed it most. Both of you groaned when he fitted the blunt, swollen tip at your entrance. The stretch was delicious, a promise of even more to come and oh, you wanted him to fill you. Your fingers still wrapped around his length, you squeezed, pulling him deeper inside you. His breath fanned loud and ragged against your ear as he fought to maintain control.

At least, until you met his eyes and whispered “Please.”

With a snarl, Eddie buried himself inside you. The force of it shoved you up the cushions until you reached a hand back to brace yourself against the arm of the sofa. Just as desperate to keep you still, to hold you down and claim you, Eddie seized your hips tight enough to bruise.

“Fucking vixen,” he rasped, the hint of a smirk in his voice. “So tight. So fucking good.”

His praise lit a fire in you and you matched him thrust for thrust, moaning every time his thick cock pushed inside you, stretching you until you thought you would split apart. You realized you had never wanted anyone this much, been this aroused. It stripped any sense of shyness or hesitance away, leaving you free to give yourself over to him in whatever way he wanted.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good. Fuck me harder, Eddie please. Don’t stop, don't stop,” you chanted, babbling mindlessly. Dimly, you were aware of the arousal leaking from you, smearing your thighs and urging Eddie to take you harder, faster, more.

Eddie reached between you, his thick fingers rubbing slick, tight circles against your clit. You were so wet you could hear it and it was obscenely hot, winding you up tighter and tighter. Your breath caught in your throat and you keened, a wild, animal sound you’d never made before. “That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Let yourself go. I’ve got you.”

“Please, please, please,” you whispered, your voice ragged, unsure of what you were begging for but desperate for more, for whatever this was to never end. Eddie’s mouth was back at your throat, his teeth piercing your skin, and the sharp sting of pain threw you over the edge. Your orgasm bloomed through you, violent in its intensity and you shouted his name, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“No, I want to hear you,” he mumbled against your throat, his thrusts deep and uneven as he fought to hold back his own end.

You whimpered his name, the overstimulation threatening to overwhelm you as he kept rubbing lazy circles against your clit. Your hands tangled in his hair, yanking his mouth to yours. Ignoring the shock of pain at your neck as his teeth ripped away from your skin, you licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaning. He followed you over the edge, coming hot and deep with a grunt of your name, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh at your hips.

After what felt like an eternity, your heart rate slowed and your breathing calmed. You shivered, Eddie’s cool skin against the sheen of sweat that coated your body sending goosebumps erupting over your arms and legs. Nudging him gently, you moved from beneath him, but his hand caught your wrist as you stood. His eyes were soft when he looked up at you, pleading and nervous.

“I need a shower,” you answered the unasked question. He pushed off the couch and followed you to the bathroom, a shadow at your back.

You turned the water to hot, praying to whatever god that listened that it would be enough to ease the aches and knots that had started twisting your muscles. Turning to face Eddie, you gathered his hair up in a knot at the top of his head and secured it with a hair tie, a few riotous curls escaping to frame his face. He quirked a brow at you and you shrugged. “No sense in getting it wet again.”

—

After your shower you lay in bed, your limbs tangled with Eddie’s. Kate Bush played softly in the background and Eddie dragged his fingertips across your scalp, slowly easing the headache that had begun to pound at your temples. You were tired, exhausted even, but you were afraid to close your eyes, terrified that if you did, he would simply disappear.

“We should probably talk about, well… everything,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” you mumbled in agreement. The unsaid questions hung heavy in the air.

What the hell happened to you?

What’s really going on in Hawkins?

Do you feel this too?

After a pause, you ventured “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

You could feel the tension leaking out of Eddie, disappearing like smoke as he relaxed into your arms. “Oh, absolutely.” He mumbled it into your shoulder, pressing lazy, open mouthed kisses to any skin he could reach. You did the same, slipping in and out of sleep, drawn back by the need to reassure yourself that he was still there, to keep mapping his body in the dark.

You finally drifted off with his weight comfortably above you and your arms around his waist, each clinging to the other in a silent promise.

I’m here.

You’re safe.

I’ve got you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munsin x female reader #eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 fic #morningstar #my fic

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 3)

A/N: for masterlist formatting reasons I'm just going to post this at the same time as rewritten chapter two, so enjoy having two to read at once :)

WARNINGS: Blood, gore, and mentions of rape

Word Count: 6k

—————

After marching for nearly half of the day, there was less than an hour left until we finally reached King’s Landing. Loras and I had talked for a good bit of the trip, but I could tell that there was quite a lot on his mind. I supposed that similarly, there was also much on my mind, for this was one of the first major battles I would lead this many men into.

I was glad that Loras and I were leading the vanguard, because that was where the fighting was thickest. I’d always been inclined towards danger, even if my brother and I were too skilled to end up actually getting ourselves killed. There was truly no rush like being surrounded by men and needing to fight your way out. For me, at least.

At the present moment, the thing giving me the most excitement was knowing that my father would be riding alongside Tywin Lannister. Gods, my father would be making him absolutely miserable. It made me smile brighter than a thousand suns.

“Are you… are you nervous at all?”

The sound of Loras’ voice broke me out of these happy thoughts, and I raised an eyebrow at him from underneath my helmet. Was something giving him the impression that I was nervous?

“Of course not, why?”

“Well… what if Stannis manages to take King’s Landing? What if we’ve come too late? Or what if our numbers still aren’t enough?” Loras asked, voicing his concerns on the subject. I instantly realized that he was nervous. It had perhaps not helped that the capital was now in sight.

“He’s not going to take King’s Landing, Loras. I promise you that much. Not only would he have to get past our entire army and fleet, he’d have to climb the walls and break down the mud gate too. I assure you that there is nothing to worry about-”

My sentence was suddenly cut off by the earth below us shaking, and many of the horses became somewhat startled. I furrowed my eyebrows with confusion, looking toward the Red Keep for any sign of explosion. Anything that had made the ground tremble like this must’ve been massive, and I certainly did not like the thought of that.

Just beyond the castle, I spotted a mass of bright green fire. Wildfire, no doubt. My heart dropped, because while it appeared to be coming from the bay, it was impossible to tell. Had Stannis used it, or had we?

“Loras… Loras keep marching with the men, I’ll be back in just a moment,” I said mindlessly, gripping the reins of my horse and turning around to try and find Lord Tywin. It was entirely possible that he might know something about this if it had come from our side.

I had been riding toward the back when I saw another rider approaching me, a red sash fashioned around his armor. I slowed my horse, feeling somewhat breathless despite the fact that I had done absolutely nothing. I lifted the eye covering of my helm, watching Lord Tywin do the same as he pulled his door styled covering open. We instantly made eye contact, and there was quite a serious look on his face.

“What happened? Did you see?” he questioned, pulling his horse closer to mine so we were directly facing each other. If I’d moved over anymore, our opposite legs would’ve been touching.

“It was wildfire. It did not look as though it was touching the actual Keep, but it was hard to tell. If I had to make a guess, I would assume it was in the bay. I wanted to ask if you knew anything of it, but- well…” I trailed off, having my question answered by the fact that he had to ask what had happened. Naturally, he hadn’t seen it from the back.

“Well, to shake the ground the way it did, it must’ve been quite a lot. King Aerys was rather fond of wildfire, as I’m certain you’re well aware. Perhaps… well, perhaps it was stored away,” Lord Tywin said, though it almost felt like he was thinking out loud. I nodded in response, hoping that he was correct in his guess.

“But if… if that did come from Stannis, what do we- would you… would you still want to lead the men into battle?” I questioned, swallowing so that I would refrain from asking him ‘what do we do’. That was one of the last things I would ever permit myself to say to Tywin Lannister.

The Old Lion looked at me for a moment, contemplating and then appearing to settle on something. The challenge in his eyes returned as he sat a bit straighter and looked down at me.

“You tell me, Lady Tyrell, in your infinite wisdom.”

I nearly scowled at him, infuriated over the fact that somehow, even in this dire situation, he still managed to be an utter cunt. I held myself back, however. I couldn’t be angry now, I had to be logical and smart. What would I do? To let Stannis take King’s Landing would be unforgivable, but would it be even worse to lead tens of thousands into a pointless slaughter?

“It- It depends. If you think it’s most likely that it came from your son, then we should expect to see Stannis’ ships burning in the bay. But… if that did come from Stannis, we ought to be careful. If we see that his ships are untouched, then I will lead the vanguard on my own. That explosion was so big it must’ve… well, it must’ve taken quite a lot of wildfire. I would doubt that he has more, but just to be certain I think it would be best… best to only take the vanguard at first,” I strategized, having to raise my voice over the sound of men marching around us. The entire situation was rather stress inducing, and I could see a distinct fear on the faces of soldiers around us.

“You ought to lead the vanguard from the back then, Lady (Y/N). If Stannis still does have wildfire-”

“I will be burned alive. I know, Lord Tywin. Nevertheless, I will lead from the front. The vanguard must always be led that way,” I replied firmly, swallowing whatever nerves I had in face of my principles. Being killed by wildfire did not sound pleasant, but it was still entirely possible that it had not even come from Stannis to begin with.

Lord Tywin blinked a few times, looking at me with a sort of curious observation. I assumed that he was trying to figure out whether or not I was utterly insane. It was highly likely, I supposed.

“I see. Very well, Lady (Y/N). It is not a call you need to make yet, but you will know before I do. I am entrusting the vanguard, and my men, to your judgment,” he said, taking a deep breath. Under a different situation, I might have thought him sarcastic, but there was something genuine in his voice. Even despite all our hatred for one another, he at the very least knew I could be trusted to make a smart decision.

Somehow, the biggest compliment I’d ever received had just come from the man I hated more than anything.

Lord Tywin and I looked at each other one last time before parting ways, and as I began riding to the front, our drummers began to play something. It was not until the singing started that I realized it was the Rains of Castamere.

Hundreds—if not thousands—of Lannister soldiers had joined in on the recognizable tune, and it somehow seemed to be replacing their fear with pride. It was a good thing, I thought. In a few minutes, they might all be dead.

I found my brother leading at the front, and he was instantly relieved by the sight of me. I rode up beside him, putting my eye covering back down in case I looked frightened. In all honesty, I could not discern my own emotions. I was never afraid of fighting men, but wildfire would mean death, and not even the best armor would be able to keep me from that.

“(Y/N), what did Lord Tywin say? What are we- what are we supposed to do?” Loras questioned, a slight tremble in his voice. Neither of us had prepared for something like this.

“It is my call to make… when we- when we get there, I have to assess the situation and make a decision,” I said, nearly choking on my own saliva. Gods, I hated this feeling. I turned to my brother then, my voice entirely serious as I spoke. “And Loras, I need you to promise me something right now. Promise that no matter what I say, you will listen. I need to make sure that you obey whatever command I give. As your commander, not as your sister.”

Something in Loras shifted then, and I could tell he was processing the fact that this situation might be utterly horrible. He nodded at me, but that was not enough.

“Say it, Loras. I need to hear you say that you’ll obey.”

“I will. I will… I will obey any command you give.”

I sighed out then, pressing my lips together and nodding. It was the only thing I needed to hear from him, even if it probably wasn’t entirely truthful.

With each step forward that my horse took, I felt myself getting closer and closer to vomiting. I had never prayed so fervently as I begged the gods to let it have been Tyrion Lannister’s wildfire and not Stannis’. The only thing I could think about was how the men would scream as they burned, and it made me want to hyperventilate. To have men die in battle was normal, but to have them be slaughtered was devastating.

However, as the Blackwater Bay finally came into view, a giant wave of relief hit me. Stannis’ ships were flaming in the water, and his men were desperately trying to get to the landmass south of the river. Loras turned to me, waiting for me to say something.

“We need to move faster. We can’t let them cross the rush,” I thought aloud, settling into my saddle and licking my lips. I turned to the men behind us, all mounted and waiting for my instruction. Though, I could similarly see them preparing to draw swords and spur their horses.

“Men! Stannis and his army mean to cross the Blackwater Rush and take King’s Landing. They mean to take the throne and all seven kingdoms with it. Do you want fucking Stannis Baratheon for your king?” I shouted at them, putting as much volume into my voice as I possibly could. What sounded like the voice of nearly every man there shouted back a distinct ‘no!’

I smiled, for it was the most invigorating thing I’d ever heard.

“No! Of course not. Nobody wants Stannis, the boring, cold, and stale cunt sitting on the throne! And that’s why we are about to go kill every last one of his pathetic soldiers and make sure that he doesn’t! And just to be sure, I want to see Stannis’ head detached from his fucking body by the time the sun rises over Blackwater Bay!” I yelled out, grinning as the men cheered and whistled at my sentiments. I could feel my blood pumping through every single vein in my body, and at that moment, I don’t believe that even wildfire itself could’ve stricken the pride and confidence from my body.

“Now, let’s go fucking slaughter them!”

I unsheathed my sword, raising it into the air and smiling as the shouts of thousands came back at me. I had spurred my horse then, and so did Loras. For the second time that night, the earth shook as men on horseback and on foot followed eagerly behind and alongside us. I was right next to Loras, and as we approached their men, I couldn’t help but smile. Somehow this was all I had dreamed of since I was a young girl.

And it became even better as we started to plough into their army.

I was gripping onto my reins with one hand and swinging at the soldiers below me with the other. Several attempted to fight back, but many of them failed. In fact, I became particularly giddy as I managed to slice a few men’s heads clean off.

Our line of horses had broken apart, and I no longer knew where Loras was. It had given me initial panic, but I knew I couldn’t focus on it or else I would be putting myself in danger. Especially because, while it was a great advantage to be on a horse, the risk of it being cut down beneath you was a very serious one.

As I struck another man down, I found myself scanning the battlefield. I could hear shouts of ‘Renly!’ in the midst of screaming and armor, which certainly made me smile. My plan had worked after all, and it was especially clear as Stannis’ men began to join our side.

Feeling content in that, I turned to face the shore. The vanguard was trying its hardest to keep Stannis’ soldiers from crossing the river, but there were still so many of them that it was inevitable. Thankfully, that was our only concern. Our fleets had already arrived and were absolutely destroying the small portion that was left of Stannis’.

I did not ponder this long, however, because I was still directing my horse through hoards of Baratheon soldiers. Man after man was plucked down by my sword, and even those who weren’t killed immediately would be dead within hours. The poison on my blade would see to that.

Though, my time on horseback had unfortunately come to an end. After realizing how destructive I was, a few of Stannis’ men had purposefully sought out my horse and slashed at its ankles. It went down instantly, and so did I with it.

Everything moved in a blur as I flew from atop my horse and hit the ground. I landed on my back, which caused the air to escape from my lungs. I forced myself to roll away, however, avoiding the weight of my horse landing on top of my legs.

I had also hit my head rather badly, even despite my helm. I felt like my entire world was spinning, and that combined with being breathless was utterly awful. Gasping for air, I reached for the head covering and pulled it off entirely. Perhaps it was utterly stupid, but it helped me see more clearly and fight off how dizzy I was.

I forced myself to stand up, which thankfully helped clear my airways at least a little bit. I was still wheezing, however, and it made me panic as I looked around for the men who had disabled my horse. One of them had been conveniently crushed under the animal, and the other two had gotten on their knees to try and pull him out.

Coughing a little bit, I grabbed my sword from the dirt and rocks beneath my feet and approached them. They were so desperate to save their friend that they hadn’t even noticed me.

“Hey! You fucking cunts!” I shouted, getting their attention as I crept up behind them. Before they could fully turn and rise, I grabbed one of the men's heads, reaching around and slitting his throat as if I were ripping a sheet of parchment. The other one tried to get up, but was so shocked that he stumbled backward.

I coughed again, inhaling deeply and scowling as I took the handle of my blade in both hands and moved toward him. He attempted to get up again, but was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn’t. It was utterly pathetic.

He began feeling around himself, realizing that he had dropped his sword when trying to help the stuck man earlier. He found a small knife, however, and held it out toward me. I genuinely began to smile, so amused by the thought that this man believed he had a chance. He was better off saying a prayer.

In a few quick seconds, I swung my leg out, knocking the blade from his hand and pinning his arm to the ground beside his head. I then plunged my sword straight through his rather poorly-made breastplate and listened to him scream. And he had thought that taking me off of my horse would make me less dangerous. He should have known that the exact opposite was the truth.

When I removed my sword from his chest and looked around, I realized that the fighting was already beginning to thin out. I nearly laughed, for so much importance had been placed on this battle, and yet our vanguard alone was ripping through Stannis’ men. The rest of the Tyrell and Lannister men had also joined us, but they were hardly even needed.

I, of course, was not about to miss out on the slaughter. This was only the second major battle I had ever fought in, and—with the same naivety that I’d had at 14 and 15—I found it quite exciting. I was instantly throwing myself into the thick of the fighting, gutting man after man. To me, there was a sort of rhythm in fighting. I couldn’t lie to myself, I did enjoy the feeling of thrusting my sword into another person, perhaps in the same way that many enjoyed the feeling of pushing their needles into needlework. But, to be truly good at something does make it enjoyable, and the same went for my swordsmanship.

As I killed Stannis’ men, I got the rush of adrenaline that comes from such intense situations, but I felt little fear because of my training and skill. They were no real competition for me, merely targets. They would always scream and yell at me when they swung, as if somehow that would give them a better chance at killing me. When I blocked their advances and swiftly cut through them, they would go silent for just a moment. Then their eyes would go wide, as if realizing that they were going to die, and—just as they called out for their mothers—the blood would spurt from their throats. Thus continued the cycle of stupid men who believed a woman would be an easy target, or the even stupider men who knew who I was and believed they could take me down anyway.

As I once again thrust my sword into another man and felt his blood splattering against my face, there was a general cheer coming from all around me. I instantly looked up, realizing that many of Stannis’ men had begun to retreat toward the shoreline in a desperate attempt to get away.

Foolishly, I permitted myself to relax a bit and began to smile at the sight. The battle was clearly won, even if some men refused to leave and wanted to die ‘valiantly’. I supposed I could not judge, for I would be inclined to do the same in their situation.

However, my feeling of victory disappeared when I turned around and noticed one of the largest men I’d ever seen in my life staring directly at me. He was obviously a Baratheon soldier, and the way he was looking at me sent a small shiver up my spine. I could not tell if he wanted to kill or rape me—or both.

However, as he raised his sword and began to approach me, I decided that the first of those options was the more immediate problem. I instantly raised my own blade, and mentally began to curse my fancy armor, because there was no doubt in my mind that it had made me a rather obvious target. And while I usually did not mind that, I disliked any feeling of insecurity when I was facing an opponent, and this man's height and sheer muscle certainly made me feel more than just a bit insecure.

Nevertheless, I forced myself to swallow this fear. If I played this smart, his physical characteristics would be of no importance whatsoever. And I felt utterly confident that I could play this smart; I would simply have to be careful.

I prepared to block him as he began to pick up speed, sword raised into the air as he ran. His blow seemed to come down in one swift movement, and I groaned out with exertion as I held my own sword up and felt the two blades clashing against each other. He was so insanely strong that my arms began to quiver after a few seconds, and I had to scrape my sword along his as I quickly moved aside. He had been pressing down on me with so much pressure that it made his weapon slice into the dirt.

And after a moment, I realized that his sword had not only sliced the dirt, but the rocks too. I furrowed my eyebrows, and examined his sword. It was then, after finding a clean spot at the base of the metal, that I realized it was valyrian steel. Another shiver went up my spine as I realized it was entirely possible that he could probably cut straight through my armor, even despite its good quality. How had this man acquired valyrian steel?

I didn’t have much time to ponder the question, though, because I had to act fast. While he unstuck his sword from the earth, I was moving forward, swinging at and slicing his ankle. The man groaned out, and like some sort of monster from the tales my septa had told me as a child, he rose with even more anger. Again, he was swinging fiercely at me. I managed to block each one, for that was a matter of skill, but I could not hold my sword up for very long. That was the other difficulty: he was so tall that all his blows came down at me rather than from the sides.

When he continued to swing at me, I forced myself to give up on blocking and instead prioritize dodging. It was a frightening thing to do, for I could hear the distinct ‘whoosh’ of his giant weapon. If I had not been so swift, I feared he might’ve cut an ear off.

While dodging his advances, I had to force myself to formulate a plan. Because yes, I could try and tire him out, but I was growing just as exhausted as he was. When he finally did falter, I would need to have an actual move ready to go. I needed to find a way to put myself on the offense, because once I was, I could be quick enough that he wouldn’t be able to block. The problem, however, was actually getting to that point.

I continued dodging him, and as I wracked my brain, I suddenly realized that he had begun swinging with a pattern. Naturally, it was quite a bit of work to lift and then bring a sword straight down every time, and so he’d begun to do so with an angle. He’d make two right-slanted swings and then a single left-slanted one.

Having processed this, I prepared for what he was going to do and then moved to the opposite side and brought my sword down on top of his, making him fumble just a bit. Finally, I managed to swing my sword before he did, and he was desperately lifting his sword to try and block me.

This continued for a bit, and I was simply so fast that he did not have an opportunity to counter my speed with his strength. He was also growing tired, and it was extremely obvious. Unfortunately, so was I, and it did not serve me well when a stray horse ran right by us and made me falter as I began to swing.

Of course, the man took this opportunity to dodge my advance and ram the handle of his sword into my back when I kept moving forward. I cursed out, feeling the intensity of his blow in my chest as I hit the ground. My sword had also flown from my hands, and my eyes went wide at this realization.

Nothing felt broken, thankfully, and so I turned onto my back in the hopes of getting off the ground or at the very least being able to roll away from the man's sword. However, when I did turn around it was not his sword that I was met with. Instead, his hand reached out toward me and gripped the neck of my armor.

He pulled me up, and I frantically felt around my armor for my dagger. I managed to grab the handle of it, but he was so insanely strong that he lifted me into the air and let me dangle in front of him. He began to chuckle at the sight.

“There you are, finally still. My, you’re a pretty one. Now that you aren’t swinging your fucking sword at me, anyways… perhaps I ought to make you pay for that, hm? What do you think? I’ll pin you down in the dirt right now, and then once I’m done with you I’ll gut you for being such an annoying bitch. How does that sound?” he threatened, flashing his teeth at me and continuing to laugh. His insinuations made a cold fear rush through my body, and the shaking in my hands was genuine. My only consolation, or rather my only form of hope, was the dagger underneath my armor. It was still concealed, but I was more than ready to pull it out. All I needed was for him to do something stupid and give me an opportunity to strike.

“I think it sounds fucking pathetic, you disgusting cunt. It’s also not going to happen- you’d have better luck raping my fucking corpse,” I choked out, spitting directly into his face and watching the anger spark in his eyes once more.

“Then maybe I will!”

He began lifting his sword with his free hand, and I wasted no time pulling out my dagger and shoving it directly into the unarmored space around his crotch. My dagger was thankfully long and sharp enough that it made it through the rest of his clothes, and I heard him scream in a way that I’d never heard before, nor ever would hear again.

Unfortunately, I also experienced quite a lot of agony as his sword cut clean through my armor and sliced down the left side of my torso. His sword had already been at my side when I’d mutilated him, and so when the pain had triggered his survival instincts this had been the result.

I screamed out as I fell to the ground, clutching at my side. I could already feel blood seeping out of the wound, which was rather deep and ran, at a slant, from just below my armpit to the backside of my hip. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, but at the very least it wasn’t nearly as bad as what the man in front of me was feeling.

He had fallen to his knees, and was bent over as though he were worshiping a god—perhaps the lord of light. Either way, he was sobbing with pain, and when he mustered enough strength to lift his upper half up a bit, I watched with a sick satisfaction. He certainly wouldn’t be capable of raping me now.

Of course, the pain that I was experiencing made this a much more bitter moment than I had hoped it would be, especially when the man set his eyes on me with a distinct fury and began reaching for his dropped sword. Oh fuck.

I clasped at my side in an attempt to suppress either the pain or the bleeding, for I knew both was too much to ask for, and tried my very hardest to scoot backwards. I was unable to stand in this condition—or not on my own, anyways.

As my legs desperately kicked at the dirt and tried to propel me backward, I observed with fear as the giant before me yelled out in pain and slowly stood up. It took him a while to properly get his footing, and his jaw was clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth did not fall out. Tears were streaming down his face, but sheer anger made him determined to kill me.

When he began to stagger toward me, I found myself wondering what kind of sick joke the gods were playing on me. I hoped they were laughing, at the very least, because I certainly was not. All I could do was sob out as I dug my heels and elbow into the earth in a desperate attempt to escape death.

It was of little use, however. His painful staggering was just a bit quicker than my pathetic crawling, and as he came closer and tightened his grip on his sword, I prayed that my death would be quick and clean. I found Loras and Margaery on my mind, and I suddenly felt horrible for leaving them, especially so soon after Renly’s passing. I thought of my parents for a moment, and as the man before me started to lift his sword, my grandmother was the only one on my mind. I wished I had said a proper goodbye before we’d left Highgarden.

The giant man’s blade was high in the air, though it took him quite a lot of strength to get it there. I expected—and was prepared for—it to come down with a sloppy, painful ‘thwack’, but instead only heard the slicing of metal into skin and felt the warmth of blood splattering on my face.

My eyes shut instinctively, and they only opened once I heard the thumping of a fallen body. When I did look around, I found the Baratheon soldier laying face down in the dirt beside me, blood spewing from a giant hole in his head. My eyes widened with some shock, and I instantly lifted my eyes to see who was responsible for saving me.

There, atop his pretty white horse, I found Tywin Lannister.

For just a moment, my shock had made my pain go away, but it did not take long to return. Lord Tywin had of course understood that I was injured, and instantly threw his leg over his horse to dismount. As he did, I realized that the man’s valyrian steel sword had dropped beside me with him, and I mustered all the strength in my body as I grabbed at it and pushed it into my sword belt.

It had timed out perfectly, for once I had finished doing that, I felt the Old Lion’s armored hands at my shoulders. My head began to spin as I looked up at him, for he was kneeling beside me and checking to see where my injury was. He quickly spotted the blood seeping from the wound, and for just a moment there was an odd look in his eyes. He was perhaps wondering whether or not I would make it.

“Lady (Y/N), look at me. Look at me… I need to get you to a healer, do you understand? I don’t wish to take you on horseback, because if my horse falls from under us and we are both injured, you will die. Do you think- are you still well enough to hold onto me? I need one hand for my sword,” he questioned, simultaneously explaining our situation. If not for my serious blood loss, I probably would’ve formulated some snarky response, but alas all I could do was nod. Because even in this state, he was right. To go on horseback was certainly quite the risk. Although, debatably so was him, dressed in his quite obvious Lannister armor, deciding to carry me across the field. All I could do was pray that enough of Stannis’ men had retreated or were being dealt with by the rest of the vanguard.

In a haze, I felt Lord Tywin placing his hand under my back and helping me to sit up. I cried out rather loudly as he did, for it sent an unbearable pain through my side, and for a moment I thought I might pass out.

I did not, however, and instead realized that Lord Tywin was wrapping his arm around my upper torso and trying his very hardest not to add to my pain. After a few moments, he whispered a subtle ‘shhh,’ in my ear in an uncomfortable attempt to soothe my pain. None of this fully registered in my brain, however. All I could think about was wanting the pain to stop.

It did not do so, however. In fact, it only got worse as Lord Tywin began to stand up and lifted me with him. I yelled out, and I may have cursed him, but it couldn’t have been any worse than things I’d said in full consciousness.

“Lady (Y/N), I need you to wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed, huffing out with exertion. I could see the sweat on his forehead, and noticed that there was surprisingly also blood there, though it appeared to be someone else's. It seemed the Lord of Casterly Rock himself had genuinely joined in on the fighting for once. It’s funny, the things you notice when rapidly losing blood.

As we began to move across the field, Lord Tywin’s grip on me was firm. He was holding me against his chest, and my cheek was pressed against the top of his red sash. I was trying my very hardest to hold onto him, but had he not been holding onto me so fiercely I most assuredly would’ve fallen straight into the dirt. There was an utter determination in him, as though getting me to a healer was the single most important thing he would ever do.

I started to wonder if it would make a difference, however, because I was still bleeding immensely and forming coherent thoughts was becoming harder and harder. When Lord Tywin was forced to plunge his sword into a charging man, pain rippled through me once again and made me even more certain of the fact that I could not continue.

“Lord Tywin… Lord Ty-Tywin… let me die…” I rasped out, tears falling from my eyes and onto his sash. I could see the dark spot they left behind, for the moonlight was especially bright. My throat began to feel dry. Surely I would not last much longer.

“No, I will not. You will grow strong, Lady (Y/N). Think of your house words,” he replied, voice harsh and demanding as he pushed his sword into yet another man. It was an order, not a request, and yet I did not feel that I could follow it.

“I’m so tired, my lord… I can’t… I can’t…” I cried softly, burying my face into his neck now. There was a warmth there, and for a moment I felt like a small child clinging to my mother. It was comforting, and I considered that perhaps death was supposed to feel this way. Like becoming a child again, like returning to the safety of your parents arms. Perhaps that was why so many called out for their mothers in their final moments.

“You can, my lady. You can and you must. You… are not allowed to die,” he encouraged, interrupting himself for a moment as he adjusted his grip and lifted me up ever so slightly. We moved faster through the men around us now, and I felt as though my arms were going entirely limp. I took his advice for once, trying to repeat my house words to myself so I would not give up entirely.

Grow strong.

Grow…

Strong…

I passed out, and would come back in small bits to discover I was still alive, and to discover that Lord Tywin was continuing to carry me. I would cry out every time I did wake, for the pain would return full force, but the man carrying me would not react to even this. He went on with his task as though I was still unconscious, for it did not matter to him. He had no time to focus on such things, I assumed.

Eventually, I felt myself being placed down. I had finally been handed over to a healer, and very hazily I heard Lord Tywin—rather harshly, in my opinion—mentioning something along the lines of ‘attend to her first’. After that, the waking up in small spurts stopped happening entirely. The next time I fully woke up, it would be somewhere inside the Red Keep, alive only because of the man I hated more than anybody else in all seven kingdoms.

—————

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