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eccentricwritingbaby · 7 days

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funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass.

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry.

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you.

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,”

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum.

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier.

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom.

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck.

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself.

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a…

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further.

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’.

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze.

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge.

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it.

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls.

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband.

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided.

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin.

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries.

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him.

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’.

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him.

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement.

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs.

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage.

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction.

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts.

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle.

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh.

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart.

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you.

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

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L'appel du Vide

Pairing- Sully Family x Sully!Reader

Summary- You feel the urge to engage in destructive behaviors just to feel alive and your family wants to get to the bottom.

Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Warnings- self destructive thoughts/actions, getting slapped, biting someone's ear off, hateful thoughts, description of self harm, self harm, blood/bleeding, crying lmk if I missed something

A/N- did I cry writing the last part bc of my crippling mommy issues yes yes I did but we don't talk about it also tell me how it is 🤭🤭

It's like a call to a void, the adrenaline of putting yourself in danger. Like jumping off a cliff not knowing if your banshee is going to catch you, or slicing your hand with an open blade, or getting into a fight with someone ten times bigger than you. It made you feel real, made you feel alive. And if your not doing it your thinking of it. So why wouldn't you go with your siblings to the old battle field.

"Tuk keep up." Lo'ak said as you pushed a branch out of the way. "Why'd you bring her?" Spider asked and Lo'ak huffed. "She's always like 'I'm telling if you don't let me come you know your not supposed to go to the old battlefield " Lo'ak mocks your younger sibling only making Spider laugh and you roll your eyes at his childish tactics. Tuk pokes her tongue out at him and Kiri comes to her defense. "Don't pick on her." And finally you make it, you and Lo'ak crouch Kiri beside you. "Dad is going to ground you," she whispered to you, "shush can you stop." You reply and she only rolls her eyes. "For life."

behind some bushes you and Lo'ak look around there was all kind of rubble and metal on the ground you hit Lo'ak on the stomach to get his attention. "Let's look around." You say before immediately jumping back, Avatars. "Shit." You whisper Lo'ak looks at them his body freezes. "We have to tell dad." Kiri whispers. Lo'ak goes to touch the microphone on his neck. "Hey dad." Lo'ak whispers, your eyes were glued to the avatars.

"Lo'ak." You hear your father's gruff voice over the ear piece. "Yes we are at the old battle field and there are some Avatars we've never seen them." Silence, "Who is we." Was all your father said afterward you and Lo'ak share a look. "Me, Y/N, spider, Kiri and Tuk." He paused before he said Tuk and you could hear your father sigh. "Just stay safe, Lo'ak Lo'ak!"

Suddenly before you could think your queue was being pulled roughly making you wince in pain. You look around at the kidnappers around you. The avatars. "Show me your fingers." An older man said to Lo'ak and he flips him off and give a screechy hiss and you laugh loudly making Lo'ak chuckle. "Your his alright and you," he says turning around to you pointing a finger. "Your a cute little thing aren't ya' think that's funny?" He asked. You cringe at his statement. "I do actually." He smirks gripping your face. "We'll keep you." He said and all you did was hiss it was deeper and louder than the one Lo'ak previously did.

He gives you a hard slap and all you did was smile as you hear your mother's war call. The man's face fell, "I will kill you as many times as I have to demon." Was the last thing you heard before you saw your father and brother, Neteyam sweep in and get the avatars holding your siblings but they couldn't help you but you didn't need any. As your father held you sister in her arms you took this chance to kick the man holding you kick him in the knee he filps you around arms locking around you and before you knew it you opened your mouth clamping down on the first thing near you and it came off in your mouth the taste of iron on your tongue filling your mouth, the man screamed letting you fall to the ground. You jump up and spit the piece of skin in your mouth blood spilling from it as you spit. "She bit my ear off! The bitch bit my ear off!" He yelled you smiled as you pick a gun up that he had dropped and run off next to your dad.

It was hell after you got home. Your father yelled at you and Lo'ak about how irresponsible you two were and how stupid it was to attack the man holding you. But, this was the usual for you not taking anything to heart but you could see Lo'ak every heart breaking thing your father said to you two it stabbed him a hundred times over. And then your father put everyone of lock down and suddenly everything darkened around you, it felt like you were a dead person in someone you didn't know, like your family and friends weren't really your family and friends.

So there you are sitting at the back of your families home watching the sky, you had the razor blade you swiped from Norm in hand and all of those bad thoughts flew into you again. You griped the balde t as tears fell down your face, "Your not real." Your head thought. "Your nothing." The thoughts consumed you as the blade got closer and closer to your skin and it made contact you held it to the base of your palm. Your eyes clench closed as you held the blade hard and sliced all the way down, the throbbing pain was there and then you take the balde off of your palm and as the blood dropped from your hand, and a sense of comfort fell over you.

Your mother looked at your hand as she wrapped it up, "And you say you accidentally cut yourself when sharpening your dagger." She asked once again and you smile. "Yes I was being stupid I know." You laugh as she lets go of your hand. Before you asked your mother to wrap your hand your father gave you the news you had to leave, it hurt it really did you were leaving the only place you called home but you knew you had to stay strong for your siblings for your Mother.

When you finally made it to the Meykayina all of their eyes were on you and your family it was strange, unsettling. It only got worse the more you stayed there people made fun of you, of your siblings. And that feeling you knew all to well came back you had to cut, and everytime you had a quick explanation. Soon you had scars in various parts of your body, on your sides, inner and outer thighs, your calfs, you even had to wrap you hands up. And after an altercation with Lo'ak and the chiefs son they were forcing you and your siblings to hang out with him and his sister Tsireya. She was nice, sweet you sort of envied her but didn't show it. "Hey forest people." Ao'nung laughed and all you did was roll your eyes. "Hey fish boy." You reply opening your eyes and giving him a sarcastic smile.

He looks taken back but Kiri and Lo'ak burst into laughter as Neteyam hits your arm. "Let's get this day over with." He said getting the ilus saddled up. You stand up and head towards your ikran and they just look at you. "Forest girl where you going!?" Ao'nung yells and you turn around. "I'm going to ride Amhel." And then Neteyam huffed. "What is wrong Neteyam?" Tsireya asked as she lifted her leg over her ilu. "When she rides Amhel that means shes gonna do something stupid and then get in trouble for it." He shook his head as you jumped into her and connected taking off into the sky. It was a dangerous speed, but you didn't care. You did all kinds of things in the air the farther you got into sea. "Flip upside down." You thought and that's what she did. "She's not strapped in!" Tsireya yells watching you as you let your arms swing in the air. Neteyam watched he hates when you did this, but he couldn't stop you.

You made it to the island you land on the warm sand and hop off as the other five to make it to you. Kiri hit you upside the head. "Why are you so stupid always doing dangerous things." She scolded. "Ah and it's not dangerous it's fun have some." You joke rubbing the sore spot she made. "Fun? We rather keep our lives thank you." Neteyam chimed in and you only rolled your eyes. "If I wanted to get scolded I would have stayed with mom and dad..." Trailed off by seeing a huge rock. It was beautiful it started in the water where it has a teal ring, and it goes up as moss and leaves grow on it, it had to be at least fifty felt in the air. "Y/N don't." Neteyam spoke, to late.

You rode Amhel up to the rock and looked down you were sure to die if you jumped and no one caught you. "Perfect." You thought.

Meanwhile on the shore your older brother and sister sit down and put their face in there palms. "Told you, something stupid." Neteyam muttered to the group. Ao'nung had his transparent eyebrows furrowed as he looks between you and your brother. "What is she going to do?" He asked as you got of of Amhel. "Just watch it's so cool." Lo'ak said.

You disconnected you queue as you let the side of your head. "Remember catch me." You whisper to her and she only gives you a small chirp in response as she takes flight. She circles around the rock getting ready to catch her rider. You take one more look down stepping back a few steps you take a deep breath. Closing your eyes you run and jump. Falling through the air you could hear Tsireya yelling, "She's gonna die, she's not gonna catch her!!" This time your siblings got up and started yelling Neteyam jumped to his ilu ready to rush toward you and then everyone stopped as the heard you. "Why are you guys so serious." From behind them.

"Holy shit that was cool." Lo'ak laughed you got off of Amhel and walked to them sitting down in the sand letting the warm sun hit your skin. "I thought you were going to die." Tsireya said sitting down next to you. "Not today." You say smiling as you close your eyes.

"You did What!" You father yelled, you have Lo'ak a side eye, why did he have to be such a blabber mouth. "It wasn't anything serious me and Amhel used to do it all the time back home." You say putting your hand on your hip. "Okay we'll talk about that later but you jumped off a cliff that was over fifty feet in the air, what the fuck is wrong with you." Clenching your teeth, "Nothing is wrong with, I'm sorry I'm not an uptight asshole and like to have fun." You say suddenly feeling defensive as to why he asked what was wrong with you. "Don't curse at me and that's not fun you could have killed yourself." He yelled and you only rolled your eyes. "No more riding Amhel." He said and your face dropped. "What t-thats not fair." You protest before your father clicks his tongue. "Fine." Was all you said before storming up to your room of the pod.

It had been a little past eclipse and your shoulders felt heavy and that question ran through your mind over and over again, "What the fuck is wrong with you." Your father's words never stuck but this did. Your hands shaked you jumped out from under the hand-made blanket your mother gave you. You tiptoe over to your bag and rummage through it and you found it. You bit your lip as you looked at the blade. You sit on your cot and grabbed the blanket you were previously covering up with, putting it between your teeth you bit down, now you look at the blade and you press it onto your upper arm, pressing down hard you guide the blade down you sighed and bite the blanket because of the pain, but the more pressure you put into the cuts the more mental relief you felt. You dropped the blade and looked at your hand you held it so hard it cut through your fingers.

You let the blanket slip through your teeth and your breath was heavy and then you look up and your eyes were met with ones of your mother. You gasp. Flipping the blanket over your arm and hide the blade. Neytiri walks closer bottom lips shaking, "Show me." She demands and you only look away wiping the tears away from you face. "Show me." She says this time a little harsher. "Fine mom, you wanna see!" You say loudly getting up and the balde falls to the ground, you show her what you had just did, then you ripped the bandages you had on your thighs and then your hands. "Is this what you wanted to see." You say crying. Neytiri tilts her head as she falls to the ground. "My baby, my daughter my special girl." She cried out holding the blade throwing it across the room. "Mom don't cry." You say holding yourself looking from your mother's broken figure.

Neytiri was gasping through her tears, "Was it me was it Jake, did we do something, did we do something wrong I know we haven't been the best parents but I tried to protect you I-"

"No it's not you or dad it's me I'm fucked up, I'm fucked up but it's not you mom it's not you." You say falling to the ground next to her. She looks at you and holds your arms, going over every scar she helped heal and guilt fills her. You cry watching her reaction and then she brings you close, "It's okay my special baby, my sweet girl." She coos rocking you back and forth as your tears soak her chest. "I'm sorry mama I'm sorry."

"nothing to be sorry for my sweet." She said guiding you back to the bed holding you she pressed sweet loving kisses to your wrist. "Nothing wrong my sweet girl." She whispered holding you as she did when you were a child and your cries softened and your eyes began to get heavy for the first time you felt loved, you felt safe.

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glitterjay · 1 month

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— needy texts

⭒ pairing bf!jay x afab!reader. jealousy, fingering & oral (f receiving), jay has a size / daddy kink, humilation(?

⭒ what happens when y/n interrupts jay's night out with the boys?

jay was long gone out of jake's apartment, obviously sending a threatening glare towards heeseung, who threw his hands up in surrender. he knew what he had done.

all he could think of was the image of you struggling to please yourself alone at home. the buldge in his jeans was growing and growing with every second that passed. his hand was stern on the stirring wheel, veins popping from the force he was putting on it. he couldn't wait until he got home to devour you whole.

you heard the sound of your boyfriend's car pulling up in the driveway. you were sitting on the couch, legs wide open while you tried to finger yourself. ready for the man outside to step in at any moment.

and right on queue, jay walked into your shared apartment. his breath was heavy, and he was carrying the sweater you remember he had on when he left. he was standinf dumbfounded at the sight in front of him.

you were so small to the point where the sofa looked like a community pool. your fingers could hardly make it halfway into your hole, which was frustrating you. "i need you so bad, daddy".

that was enough to bring jay out of his trance. his steps were confident and steady. once he reached your figure, he slapped your hand away, opening your legs more (if that was even possible) and blew cold air directly into your heat.

this made you shiver under his touch, whining loudly as a way to tell him to do something. jay chuckled, going straight to the point. two his long and slender fingers digged into your pussy without a warning, making you scream in surpirse.

it ammused you how good his fingers alone made you feel. he knew just how to curl them right and what spots to hit. if there was someone who knew your insides like the back of their hand, that was jay.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hips bucking alongside jay's fingers, fucking yourself into them. "fuck, princess. i would cum here untouched just by watching you drown in pleasure". you moaned in response.

there was a sudden feeling of emptiness within you, which caused your eyes to open. jay had taken his fingers out of you, licking them as if he were a child who had just gotten a popsicle. this made you blush.

he stood from his spot on the floor, grabbing his phone from the little table next to the door. you, on the other hand, started pleasuring yourself again, desperate to feel that tingling sensation again.

"i didn't give you permission to touch yourlsef. im here now, darling. let me do the work. " his soft words were enough to have you melting in love. although he would fuck you until you'd forget your name, jay was always sure to slip in nice comments here and there.

your eyes widened when you heard his phone ring. he was calling someone. your hips rolled into the air, looking for something to create friction. your right hand had made its way to your mouth, covering it to muffle any cry of desperation that might slip out.

"jay?" asked the voice behind the phone. you hated that you knew it very well. "heeseung. i know you saw those pictures back there"

your face had gone 10 shades reder than it already was. you felt embarrassed, and for some reason, it made you excited. your pussy was dripping wet at the thought of heeseung being on the phone right at this moment.

you shot your boyfriend a glance with big glossy eyes, begging him silently to do something. to which he interrupted heeseung's million "sorry's".

"we can do something. you could tell from the pictures that she was needy, right?"

to which the oldest replied with a simple "yes"

jay started getting closer again, regaining his spot on the floor, face perfectly in front of your bare core. he slapped your pussy, making you jolt up. it was enough to make you yelp just loud enough for heeseung to hear over the phone.

"are you seriously making me hear you have sex with your girl?" he asked.

"do you not like it?"

there was silence. jay chuckled in response, taking a nice lick of your drenching pussy, which yet again made you yelp.

"just get in jake's bathroom or something. looks like my princess here likes to feel embarrassed and exposed."

rrraaahhhh i feel like this is horrible. if you would like another part with heeseung though... do let me know through my ask! i will make it if it's high demand, hehe

#�� ✿ c's work!#kpop #enhypen #hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours #engene #enhypen jay #jay #park jongseong #jay smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut

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nyctophicbtch · 1 year

Text

The Songcord - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]

Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader

Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death

Word Count: 3,101

“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.

“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.

Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.

It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.

It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.

Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.

The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.

“Neteyam!”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!”

“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”

There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.

Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.

You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.

He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.

Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.

“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.

“I don’t know.”

They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.

“The usual.”

“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.

“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.

“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.

You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.

But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.

“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.

Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.

“Careful.”

“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.

Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.

The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.

“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.

“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.

You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.

“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”

Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.

“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.

You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.

“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”

“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.

Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.

You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.

However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.

Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.

“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.

“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.

Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.

“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”

“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.

“Do you want me to help?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”

Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.

“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.

“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”

“No it’s-“

“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.

“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”

“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.

“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”

“And I see him as a baby.”

You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.

“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”

“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.

“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”

“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.

“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”

And then Neteyam did something stupid.

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.

Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.

“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”

Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.

“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.

“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.

Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.

The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.

In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.

Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.

There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.

“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.

“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.

“It’s pretty!”

“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”

“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.

“You too?” You looked at the older brother.

“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”

“I could’ve handled them on my own.”

Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”

Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.

You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.

It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.

The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.

“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.

“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.

The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.

Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.

Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.

You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.

It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.

“I want to go home.”

No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.

“I know, I know. We’re going home.”

No. No.

You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.

Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.

“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”

You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.

“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.

You can’t leave me. Come back.

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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 9 days

Text

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 3

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

ED mentions.

Parts:

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3

When you wake in the morning, Regina is already gone. She’s probably gone to meet with Karen and Gretchen for breakfast, pushing food around her plate more like. You’ve noticed some of your leftovers have gone missing, you don’t mind though. At least it means she’s eating something.

You’re not sure why she seems to relax around you enough to eat, something she can’t seem to do around her supposed best friends.

You have to remind yourself you aren’t her friend but the sketch is still neatly folded under her pillow, whatever that means.

You have a quick shower, throw on some jeans and a band tee and go to the campfire pit to hear what activity you’ll have to do today. It might mean being paired with Regina again, although she acts like a completely different person with you in public. You can see straight through her act. The more you see of her, the more you realise she’s not cruel, bitchy or formidable. She’s scared and a little insecure.

“Today half of you will be boating and half of you will be climbing! Cabins 1-6 follow me and cabins 7-12 meet your leader at the high ropes in 5 minutes!” The instructor calls.

Fuck no.

You try and sneak away slowly, if there’s one thing you’re afraid of, it’s heights. Maybe you can sneak off with the boating group, that sounds less scary, and safer.

It doesn’t work, Mrs Norbury catches you and sends you off in the direction of the high ropes. It’s not like they can force you to climb, right?

They’re laughing about something, you can’t tell what. Maybe Regina’s already making fun of you, maybe she’s gone through your bags to find anything embarrassing to tell her best friends. Maybe she’s taken a photograph of your sketch to prove you’re a loser, freak or whatever. She did similar to Janis, what’s stopping her from doing the same to you?

Maybe not.

You think you saw a glimpse of the real Regina underneath all the pink and glitter, last night.

An instructor calls out that the session is starting. For once this week you stop thinking about Regina.

You can already feel your heartbeat in your ears as you approach the climbing frame. You’re instructed on how to correctly fit your harnesses and told to line up and go over one at a time across the high ropes.

It was like an assault course in the air. First some wooden stepping stones, then walking across a tightrope with just a rope above to balance yourself, and then finally a zip line. You felt your stomach flip, there had to be a way out. You couldn’t have Regina see you having a full-blown panic attack.

Regina is just in front of you in the queue, she doesn’t turn to look at you even once. You’re slightly hurt but not surprised. It’s not like one evening of civility means she could be seen with you in public.

The plastics climb up and start to walk across. Gretchen and Karen walk in front, screaming and giggling the whole way. Regina saunters across, nothing phases her. As she climbs across the rope you can see the muscles under her pink crop top tensing, it makes you momentarily forget about what you have to do until the instructor calls out that it’s your turn next.

Okay, just breathe and whatever you do, don’t look down.

You climb up to the top platform. It’s just a walk across some stable wooden platforms. You can do this. You stare straight ahead, ignoring the thumping of your heart, your hands clammy against the ropes. As long as you don’t look down you’ll be fine.

By some miracle you make it across. The next obstacle is a walk across a tightrope. This one makes you cold sweat.

You start to shake more. Regina is already across the other side standing and waiting to go across the next obstacle. She still looks like a goddess, and you probably look like a sweaty mess. For the first time today she turns and looks at you, her expression is hard to work out, maybe pity? Probably amusement.

You put one foot tentatively on the rope and hold for dear life onto the top rope. You shuffle across in an ungraceful manner. Hopefully Regina has turned her back by now. This would definitely be blackmail material.

Every time the rope moves you feel like you’ll fall, any second you could faint, or throw up, or maybe have a heart attack.

You edge closer to the finishing platform, you can see the edge of it and make the mistake of looking down.

The ground becomes blurry and feels like it’s 3,000 feet away.

Your stomach lurches and your foot slips.

Desperation fills you and without thinking you desperately reach your hand out, hoping Regina will grab It, pull you back up and you won’t feel that dreaded falling sensation.

Instead she shoves you.

Hard.

You fall from the rope, your heart nearly stops and you can’t open your eyes. The harness catches you but you’ve swung sideways from the rope and the force of Regina’s push makes you come crashing back, your hip colliding with the wooden platform.

The pain is immediate, and searing.

An instructor lowers you down and a teacher demands that Regina comes down too to take you to first aid.

She does this begrudgingly, her little minions whining that it’s not fair that she has to pay the price when you ‘just slipped.’

You don’t look at her or speak to her on your way to first aid. With every step your hip explodes with pain. You try not to show how hard it is to walk. This wasn’t the same Regina you hung out with last night.

Never show your weakness to a predator. That was your first mistake.

“ I wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t try to touch me.” She spat, staring at the ground as you walked. Was she ashamed?

“Whatever Regina. I don’t care.” You sigh, wincing again as you step.

She huffs and rolls her eyes at you as you finally make it to first aid. She leaves you at the door.

The first aider confirms that she doesn’t think it’s fractured or broken. Just badly bruised. When she asks what happened you lie and say you slipped. She doesn’t buy it but she doesn’t push any further. She gives you some pain medicine and an ice pack and suggests you go and rest for a bit in your cabin.

You go back and lie in your bed on your back with the ice pack slowly melting away at your hip, making the sheets wet and cold.

Luckily Regina is out somewhere, she’s probably snuck off to one of the plastics cabins.

It’s not like you care anyway.

You decide not to get dinner today. The thought of limping all the way to the campfire sounds awful and you don’t want to give Regina the satisfaction of knowing she hurt you so you try and get some sleep.

Your phone buzzes and lights up on the nightstand. It’s Janis.

“Heeey Dude! How’s the school trip? Wait why are you in bed it’s not even late” the voice of your best friend rings out down the phone.

“Long story, I slipped climbing.” You don’t know why you lie to Janis. You don’t feel like talking about Regina.

You know that despite them being on civil terms now, Janis and Regina still held a grudge respectively. Secretly you knew Janis definitely still had a crush on her, not that she’d ever admit it. At first you didn’t understand why Janis would fall for someone so fake and shallow but now you’ve seen the other side to her. Or is it just a disguise for her to gain your trust? You trusted she’d catch you and instead she pushed you away.

“Are you even listening to me?” Janis breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Huh”

“I said, has Regina fallen in mud, or ruined her boots or had bugs in her hair yet?” You can hear the grin in her voice, and a slight hint of excitement from speaking about Regina.

“Uh, I don’t know… I haven’t really seen her.” You lie again. Why can’t you stop lying to your friend?

“Anyway Janis I have to go, I should probably go and get dinner now, the teachers will wonder where I am.” Another lie “Bye!” You add quickly and hang up.

You sigh and throw your phone back onto the nightstand. You close your eyes again and try and get some sleep.

The painkillers have kicked in and you finally drift off.

You’re in the middle of a forest in a clearing. For some reason you feel uneasy. The trees are all looming around you, as if they’re trying to warn you, leaning closer to whisper “Run” in their windy breath. From between the trees you see a bright pair of blue cat eyes. They’re fixed on you. Unblinking.

You try to get up to run but you can’t move, you’re fixed to the spot as a lion emerges from the trees, claws sharp and teeth bared just about to clamp down on your neck-

Something shakes you awake. Or rather, someone.

“Get up.” You hear Regina hiss.

“What, why?” You mumble back, rubbing your eyes. Her silhouette is blurry above you.

“Come with me.”

“Why the fuck should I.” Your response shocks both of you,she scowls and grabs your wrist to drag you up.

“Just come with me.”

“Fuck off, Regina.” You spit

She doesn’t say anything, just tightens her grip on your wrist and pulls you up.

There’s no use resisting. Stupidly you follow her. Why would you trust her after she pushed you, you’re walking yourself to your doom.

She leads you to a clearing in the trees. Just like your dream, everything in your body is telling you to run.

And then you see it.

A hot pink blanket is sprawled out on the floor and you recognise various containers of food you’d bought laid out on the blanket. There’s two fluffy white pillows either side of the blanket.

“Say something, dumbass!” She barks, she doesn’t meet your eyes and you notice a slight blush on her cheeks

“What’s happening.” You stutter. Surely not, why would Regina have gone to all this effort? Is she trying to apologise?

“I saw you weren’t at dinner and I didn’t want you to starve or something. I’m not sleeping in the same room as a corpse.” She quips, going to sit on one of the pillows. You follow and sit on the other, are you still dreaming?

You eat in silence for a while. Every now and then stealing glances at Regina. She’s actually eating some of the food, looking down at the blanket in thought. The sun is setting and the light manages to catch her in a way that makes her even more perfect. Her cheeks are slightly rosy and you notice she’s taken off most of her makeup. She looks softer, like her guard has dropped slightly.

“I’m sorry I pushed you.” She whispers and her eyes catch yours. She looks genuinely sorry.

Against better judgement you immediately forgive her. You can’t hold much resolve against her when she’s sitting at a picnic she made for you and the sun is reflecting off her skin like that.

“It’s okay, I’m fine anyway.” That’s half a lie, it still hurts quite badly. “Thanks for this. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted you to know I’m sorry, really, and…. Your food is better than the shit they serve here.” She fidgets nervously “It’s nice to eat without Gretch and Karen commenting on the fat content of it.”

That makes your stomach sink. You wonder how anyone could ever think that Regina was anything but beautiful.

“We could have dinner together tomorrow too, if you wanted” that definitely didn’t come out as confident as you wanted it to.

She doesn’t say anything but she smiles at you. Your heart skips.

After you finish eating you pack up Regina’s cute picnic and make your way back to the cabin. You resist the fleeting urge to hold her hand. You don’t want to get shoved again.

She goes to the bathroom to shower and you pull out your sketchbook. You draw the same forest clearing before, sketching in all the leaves, except this time the lion is lying on a blanket, eyes closed, peaceful.

You put the sketchbook back in your bag and get changed into pyjama shorts and a top before laying on top of the covers on the bed.

You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Regina comes out of the bathroom, you hear her pad quietly towards your bed.

As if not to scare her off you stay perfectly still, eyes shut, and pretend to be asleep.

You feel her hand pull the leg of your shorts up at the side to reveal the darkening bruise at your hip.

Your heart nearly implodes when you feel her gentle lips press a soft kiss to your hip.

It’s over in a second, she goes back to her bed and pulls the covers over her head.

You let out a shaky breath and decided you would probably never be able to figure Regina George out, but at this current moment, you didn’t really mind.

#mean girls #wlw #mean girls 2024 #mean girls fanfic #regina george #regina george fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george x you #renee rapp #cabin fever

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part VIII

Hello again, part viii is finally out. One last chapter left of this series. I hope it’s been enjoyable so far. This one is a bit short, but don’t worry. The next part will be longer. Tomorrow will officially be the last update. I hope you all return for the next series I write. You know the drill, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part IX

Word Count: 954

You stumbled on your feet a little as you walked downstairs, in a daze as Stu set you onto the counter. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to help Billy with Colton, you grimaced as you saw him and looked away. “Awe come on sweetheart, I saw the photos you had of Casey and Steve in your room,” Billy said with a chuckle, “It’s different in real life, huh? After they die though, it’s kinda the same as seeing it online or in photos. They don’t look real anymore,” he said as you shook your head, “my side hurts,” you said as you looked to them.

Stu was quick to look over your wounds, glaring at Billy and punching his shoulder. “You hit deep, fuckrag,” he said as you whimpered. “Come on sweetie, you’re strong, you can last a little longer, right?” Stu said as he cupped your cheek, your eyes began to well with tears again as you nodded. “Yeah, I can,” you said with a sniffle. Billy was by your side now, kissing you and apologizing over and over as he patched you up. “Come on, little bunny, we gotta get ready now, Tate’s gonna be here soon,” he said as he kissed your cheek and helped you off the counter.

You were sat on the floor of Stu’s kitchen, feeling a jab at your shoulder and blinking in surprise when you saw Dewey hovering above you. “Hey kid,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked at you. “Dewey,” you said softly, sniffling and letting out a little yelp as he picked you up. “You’re pretty good with a sewing kit by the looks of it,” he said as he looked to the first aid kit next to you. “Oh, yeah, my mom taught me…” you mumbled out, squinting when you saw the daylight. You didn’t remember what time last night you had fallen asleep. You remember Tatum coming back to the house, after the boys dealt with her you remember being in the back of Stu’s car. Stu stayed with you until Billy gave him his queue, after that, things got a little blurry. You remember them hyping each other up about something and their groans, you remember the blood on the kitchen floor of…Stu’s house. After that you remember one of the boys trying to stitch up the wound they gave you, to make it more believable they said. You couldn’t remember which one of them it was, at that point you had began to get a little dizzy.

“Stu…Billy… Where? Are they okay?” You asked as Dewey looked to you. “We’re still taking a look around the house. We’ll let you know if we find them, okay?” He said as he brought you to the ambulance, setting you down for the EMS to check on you. As the minutes passed you saw gurneys with black bags being hauled out, Dewey walking to his patrol car and crying, but eventually you saw Stu on a gurney. Your heart fluttered knowing he was okay, you looked to the paramedic and asked if you could go check on him, thanking them and slowly walking over, being mindful of your injuries. “Stu,” you called out, the older boy looking at you and smiling. “Hey,” he said as he reached for your hand. A moment later you saw Billy, feeling relieved knowing both of them were okay.

You rubbed at your eyes as a few tears fell, feeling everything from the last few hours hitting you like a ton of bricks. You could hear voices in the background, looking up when you heard your parents calling your name. You groaned as they ran to hug you, Stu’s hand slipping from your grip. “I’m okay, really, it’s just a scratch,” you tried to play off, receiving even stronger hugs and more kisses from them.

You noticed a few officers making their way towards you and Stu, both gladly giving them the same story of what happened that night.

All about how ghostface tried to attack you on the porch, how the three of you did your best to get out before learning it was mr prescott behind the mask. How he was going berserk because of the anniversary of Maureen. After he thought he wounded the three of you he left in Stu’s car, meanwhile the three of you were left wounded and exhausted.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the shuttering of cameras and announcements in stuck up news reporter voices not too far. The paramedics treated you, but with the prices of ambulances your parents opted to drive you to the hospital themselves. You looked to your side as you walked to your parents car, seeing Gale Weathers and her henchman with the camera. You frowned, shooting your middle finger at them before climbing into the car. You looked out the window, smiling as you saw the boys parents taking them back into their cars and away from the crime scene.

You were happy to know they were okay, to know they were getting their big dream of being directors of their own movie, to know you all could finally be together. Although you hated the way the girls were left, you couldn’t deny the little twinge of jealousy from last night. They had Billy and Stu all to themselves for so long, when the boys revealed themselves to you, you felt jealous to know Tatum and Sidney had been with them. Despite the small amount of sadness you had now that they were dead, you felt a bit of happiness knowing they were gone and you could have the boys to yourself now instead.

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sunfyresrider · 8 months

Text

*ೃ༄HUNT YOU DOWN | DARK!NETEYAM

✧Tags. Porn w plot, predator/prey kink, mild dubcon, queue play, knife play. ✧Author’s Note. Sorry for the late post, I have been unbelievably sick this past week and my brain has not been functioning. I really hope you like anon and I did your request justice!<3

After being married for so long things can become boring, the sex gets progressively less exciting once you do the same things a hundred different times. Which is why you and Neteyam are no strangers to experimentation, although to others you might seem insane. Each time to push yourselves further, trying more taboo and possibly criminal acts. You always have fun, but right now you are seriously rethinking your choice.

You aren’t as fast as Neteyam nor are you as athletically inclined so whilst he’s chasing you down in the midst of the forest at eclipse you’re becoming genuinely scared. You’ll see flashes of him in the bushes or behind trees, you’ve heard his feet approaching you quickly from behind but he never takes you down. The fear was exhilarating, thoughts of what came after he caught you whirling in your mind.

He has this innate ability to hide himself, to act as the perfect predator hunting its prey. The ground crunches beneath you and twigs snap, bioluminescence plants are your only light source. You hear Neteyam quickly approaching, finally failing to mask his own footsteps. You don't know where he's coming from so you make a mad dash, hoping he won't see you.

Until your breath catches, and suddenly the footsteps stop, and you stop with them, straining to listen out for him. Your heart pounded within your chest, adrenaline fogging all of your senses. A sudden crash sounded, you jumped as his arm wrapped around your waist. He lifted you up off of your feet, holding you tightly as you screamed in fright, squirming.

“Caught you, muntxate,” Neteyam spoke in an almost mocking tone. With a grunt, he pushed you back onto the ground, positioning himself above you. “What shall I do with you, hm, yawntutsyìp?” His fingers trailed down your back, tugging at the strings that kept your cloths in place. A shiver went down your spine as he traced the curve of your spine, stopping when he reached the swell of your ass.

He slapped it roughly, making you gasp. “Can’t do anything with these on now, can I?” You faintly heard him unsheathe what you could only assume as his blade, a new sense of fear swirling up inside you. For a moment you squirmed in place, before he pushed you down, firmly holding you. “T-teyam what are you doing?” The cool touch of the blade grazed against your skin, a wave of heat building in your core. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you don’t get to question me. You’re my prey, remember?”

Neteyam slid the pointed metal downwards, slicing open the strings of your loincloth and top, revealing the rest of your body. His hands roamed freely, sliding over every curve. A sharp breath escaped you, biting your lip to prevent yourself from making any noise. Neteyam didn't seem to enjoy that. He reached up, gripping the base of your queue and pulling your head back, growling out a threat.

"don't hold back, muntxate. I want the whole forest to hear me fucking you.” He pulled on your queue, making your back arch. It was the most sensitive thing on your body, the pain sending shockwaves throughout you. Neteyam knew this, and he was taking advantage of that fact. His grip on you was tight, leaving no room for a struggle.

His cock throbbed in his loincloth, a wet patch forming in the fabric. His other hand gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, letting a loud groan slip from his lips. Seeing you so vulnerable drove him crazy, knowing he was in control of you. Neteyam teased your entrance, his hot pre-cum dripping onto you. You sucked in a deep breath, preparing to be stretched and filled to the brim.

The pain that came with so little preparation didn’t scare you, but rather fueled the growing arousal you felt. Neteyam pushed his way into your pussy, inch by inch until his full length was buried within you. You could feel him throb inside of you, his tip already hitting your womb. You were so malleable in his grasp, Neteyam wondered what else he could get away with.

His grip on your queue tightened as he began to thrust into you. Your screams of pleasure and pain lulling him into a state of hunger, his rough treatment turning you on. You were practically dripping around his cock, the lewd squelching sound of your pussy filling the otherwise quiet air.

Neteyam’s deep, guttural growls left goosebumps rising up your skin, each movement he made causing him to rub against your insides deliciously. Your legs quivered, tears welled up within your eyes as the wet tears trickled down your cheeks.

His fingers entangled with your queue, a newfound feeling blinding your every sense. It felt as though every nerve in your body was on fire, the sensation akin to pins and needles prickling across your skin. Your fingers scratched at the ground below, grasping desperately at the dirt. All of the feelings in your body heightened, the tight coil in your stomach threatening to break at any moment.

Your divine whimpers were still loud and clear, driving him even closer to his own climax. With every thrust, he hit the deepest parts of you, making sure he bottomed out each time. Neteyam’s teeth sunk into the crook of your neck. The mixture of emotions clouded your mind, overwhelming you. All you could muster were a few, slurred, pathetic words, incoherent yet recognizable all the same.

A shaky, pitiful whimper slipped from you as you struggled to say your words. "p-please..."

That was it.

Your cry was deafening, the final thrust stretching you to your limit. Neteyam forced his way into your cervix as thick ropes of cum filled you. The pain was nothing compared to the pleasure. Your cunt fully squeezing around him, milking him of all he had. The overwhelming intensity of your orgasm bursting through you, overpowering any other emotion in your body.

All you could do was writhe helplessly and clench around him, the last remnants of your juices splattering your inner thighs. The only noise left was the heavy sound of both of your breathing. The world around you becoming hazy and distant. You couldn’t hear the night creatures that lurked in the forest, nor the gentle breeze of the wind.

#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #atwow smut

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spidybaby · 7 months

Note

hey can i get one with Pablo, where he reacts to his gf after winning at the vmas? thanks

Our Song

Summary: Gavi surprise you after your win at the vmas ✨️

Warnings: cursing.

"I'm so nervous." You say biting your nail. The car is in the queue for the carpet.

"Princesa, don't worry about it. You're going to rock it."

"I don't even think I'm going to win."

"I think that just being there, able to have a platform to share your amazing art, is already a win, babe."

"So you think my art is amazing." You say, joking with him. "Thank you, mi amor"

"Hey, Y/n, we're almost there." Your manager announced. That was the signal for you to say your goodbyes to him.

"Mi amor, I have to go." You pout, not wanting to say goodbye.

"Break a leg, or I don't know. But I love you so much." He laughs, making a ducky face, sending a kiss.

"Te quiero." (I love you) you say, sending him a kiss and telling him to go to sleep.

You take two deep breaths, touching your wrist where the silver bracelet is. The little "P6" in honor of your boyfriend, a gift he made you on your anniversary.

"Ready?" They ask you. You nod.

The screams of the people waiting to see the artists are the only sounds you can hear. The flashes hit you and the camera crew focusing on your arrival. You wave your hands to the public. Making them yell your name.

Your manager pushes you lightly to the way of the carpet. The theme was pink, pink carpet, and pink awards.

You pose for the cameras, smiling at them. Most of the time, all they say is "look over here." Or "on your left." Like if they're Steve Rogers. But this time, the fans screaming are overpowering their voices.

You walk over to the interview spot. Your manager set you up for one only because you didn't feel like doing more than that.

"Hello, hello, so happy to see you." The blonde reporter says. She's one of the nicest people you have ever met in the media. "Oh God, you look amazing tonight. Tell me who you are wearing?"

"Hello to you too." You laugh. "Well, I'm wearing Versace. Donatella and I designed this look for our new collaboration."

"It's amazing, you look like a shining star."

"Thank you."

"Now tell me, you're nominated to five awards, and in all categories, you have amazing competition. How do you think you're going to do tonight?"

"Well, if I'm honest with you, I'll be surprised if I even win something. But as my boyfriend says, I'm lucky to be able to be here, I'm lucky to be able to share my art and have amazing fans who support me all the way."

"Talking about boyfriends, you're here alone."

"Not every fairytale has a present prince." You joke, making her laugh. "He's working, but he made sure to send his good luck wishes to me before the ceremony."

"We love a supportive partner. Thank you for your time, hope you win and have a nice time."

You say goodbye, making your way to the crowd. Tonight, you were seated next to the one and only Taylor Swift. A little starstruck, if you may say.

The ceremony was nice, you danced, you jumped, and you also lost four of five categories. But you knew the awards didn't make you less or more of a good singer.

The last one was Song of the Year. A very hard category to catch. You were in the same category as Selena, Olivia, Taylor.

"Okay, let's calm down a little bit." Nicki says, about to announce the last category. "So, do we wanna know the winner?" The crowd explotes in screams.

Nicki yells the name of the winner, and you are zoned out. But when Ice Spice and Taylor hugged you, you went back to reality.

"You did it." Taylor shouts, getting up and clapping for you.

"Get your ass up, go get your award, girlie." Ice says, pulling you up from your seat.

You walk over to the stage, Nicki hugged you and told you how happy she was for you. You stand in front of the mic with your legs shaken from the adrenaline of the moment.

"Umm, I'm a little shocked, so let me breathe. Woo." You say, laughing and making the crowd laugh with you. "Okay, thank you so much to my family. You guys are one of my biggest supporters to my manager. I love you for believing in me. To you guys for streaming the song, for sharing it, for making it a trend on tik tok." You laugh again.

You took a breath, feeling so out of air. "And to my Pablo, because I know you're watching this instead of sleeping. My love, you're the inspiration of this song. You're the one who listened to this song first. I love you. This is our song, bebé."

You wave the crowd a goodbye, sending a kiss to the camera. On the backstage Karol G hugged you, she was next on the stage.

After the awards you took a flight back to Europe, your world tour Europe leg was beginning in three weeks and you wanted to leave early to adapt to the time zone and also to spend some time with Pablo.

During the flight you watched a game, it was good. After the game, Pablo had an interview. They asked him about you winning and you giving him special thanks.

"Hombre, Pablo. Your girlfriend recently won an award and she thank you. We know you're private about your relationship, but we want to tell you that we love how supportive you two are with each other."

He smirked, thinking about your thank you speech. "Si, bueno somos privados pero yo siempre la apoyo en todo y siempre lo haré. Ella es increíble y la quiero." (Yeah, well, we are private, but I can totally support her and always will. She's amazing, and I love her)

"Thank you, and congratulations about the win."

You snap a picture of the interview, send it to him, thanking him for his words, updating him about you almost landing in Barcelona.

When you actually land, you didn't expect Pablo to be waiting with a big flower bouquet, smiling at you.

You rush down the plane stair, throwing yourself at your him. Legs locked around his waist and lips on his.

"Mi super estrella." He kisses your cheek. (My superstar) he walks with you in his arms, dropping you into the car.

He walks to your manager, taking your bags and saying goodbye to your crew. You did the same, waving them from the car.

"Let's go home, estrellita." He kisses your hand.

The drive home he was telling you about the game. You thank him about the things he said.

"You deserve that and more, mi amor." he says, parking in front of his house. "I have something for you inside."

"Pablo, we say no surprises, you know I don't need anything. The flowers were enough, mi amor."

"I didn't say anything." He laughs, opening the door for you and helping you with your bags. "Go to the kitchen, I know you're hungry."

You indeed were very hungry. So you walked inside and straight to he kitchen. You were surprised to see your family, Pablo's family, and your friends all there.

They all yelled from excitement, and your friends run to hug you. You were still shocked by surprise with the breakfast surprise he pulled.

"Enough, Enough. Let me hug my baby." You mother says. She hugs you, saying how proud she is and how happy she is to spend these days with you, same with the rest of your family.

"Let's eat. She needs some food." Pablo says, kissing your cheek. "Please, serve yourselves."

"Thank you, Pablito." You returned the kiss on his cheeks, buring your face on the crock of his neck.

You wanted to eat everything, there was a lot of fruit, a banquet of other type of food and even a cake.

"The cake has the lyrics of our song." You jump excited. "That's so fucking cute."

"Language." You mom jokes.

Belen and Pablo got close to you once everyone was seated at their places.

"Estamos tan orgullosos de ti, preciosa." (We are so proud of you, precious)

Pablo hugs you, saying how much they love for you to be with Pablo and how amazing the song was.

"We got you a little something." Belen says, giving you a velvet box. "This is also Aurora's. She couldn't be here because of school but she sends you all the love."

"Thank you, I love you guys really much."

You saved the box in your pocket, wanting to see it in private.

You take a seat next to Pablo, who was talking with your mother about football. "But yes, it's been crazy, with the Champions coming up."

Everything was dreamy. You had the boy, the love, and the support. You had everything you ever wished for.

"I want to propose a toast." Pablo announced, getting up from his seat. "Por mi super estrella, ella nos ha compartido su arte y yo sé que todos aquí le hemos demostrado amor y apoyo" He grabs your hand, squishing it. "Congratulations, my love." (To my superstar, she shared all her art with us, and I know that every one of us had shared love and support with her, and I know that this award is important to her.)

You felt so loved, with the most important people in your life giving you all the support. You already won. An award makes no difference.

yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, taylorswift, aurorapaezg and 2,373,490 others

yourusername so thankful with this blessing. Thank you to all of you who voted for me ❤️ also enjoy this little dump of my last few days

pablogavi ❤️😛

aurorapaezg love you, hermanita 💖

selenagomez you're a shining star ✨️

icespice it's giving cunt 🫶🏻

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lowkeyremi · 4 months

Note

Um. Hello. I've never done an ask but here I am anyways cuz I got an idea reading the drabble of Katsuki taking care of his gaggle of kids while reader is at the gym.

Katsuki, who no matter how many kids he's had before, always panics when his wife goes into labor. Like, she'll be chill, but he'll be freaking out (mostly internally since he isn't a scaredy cat. Obviously.)

But still, he always is extremely worried and stressed even if everything turns out ok he doesn't leave her side during the whole process because he's worried about his lovely wife and his new kid.

So uh. Enjoy this little midnight idea I got :)

No for real!! He's pacing the room while thinking of every possible outcome, good and bad. He gets so caught up in his thoughts he doesn't even here you calling him.

"-tsuki. Katsuki!" You'd yell and he whips his head around so fast.

"Yeah?" He asks walking over to your bed checking your pillows to make sure they're fluffed just right and making sure you have enough water.

"You're doing it again." He rolls his eyes, and tries to pretend he's got it all under control.

"Doin' what? I ain't afraid of nothin'." The glare you give is enough to make that prideful resolve melt for a second.

"Worrying. Quit it, everything's gonna be fine. You act like you're delivering this baby." The bed isn't the most comfortable but it's alright. You lay back a little bit.

"I might as well be." He jokes to lighten the mood a little.

Lowkey he's by the nurses side and they're like "Sir can you please go sit down and let us do our jobs"

He does, but when he hears the first little cries he's up again a slightly worried look on his face. You don't scream as much as the first baby, but you are gripping the bed railings.

"Is there anything I can do to help??" As if on queue Mitsuki arrives and takes him down to get some stuff from her car.

"Quit worrying that woman Katsuki, this is her fourth brat." He's carrying all the baby stuff his mom bought.

"Oh shut up hag. I'll do what I want."

"You're just like your dad. He hovered over me the whole time, talking me through the pain." Katsuki grimaces at the idea of his mother giving birth.

When he answers his mother with silence is prompts her to continue, "She's stronger than she's given credit for I'll tell you that. Two of your children have a big head just like you. I couldn't bear child birth again after I had to push out a head as big as yours. She's brave." Mitsuki explains as they walk back into the hospital.

"Oi, my head isn't big." He argues.

"You didn't have to give birth to you, you wouldn't know."

The two argue all the way back up to the room.

#ik he's soft on the inside i'm not listening to anyone else #he just wants u to be ok #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader

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writefightandflightclub · 10 months

Text

Monster: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader blurb

Warnings: dub-con / non-con (it’s not actually, and you will see why but it will definitely, 100% read that way so the warning needs to be here.) smut / filth. size kink. use of venom in sexual contexts (worth a substance-use warning as similar effects). bondage. blood kink. pain kink. reader has powers. unreality.

MINORS INTERACTING WILL BE BLOCKED.

Reader descriptions: Miguel’s POV. Reader described heavily as “small” and other related terms. This comparison is relative to him and could therefore apply to a range of body types, but letting you know that it will be less inclusive than my usual fics aim to be and so I’m suggesting it’s (more) geared to a petite!reader.

Author’s note: DO NOT LOOK AT ME. This is a relatively short blurb. It fell out of my head. Pls forgive me.

You hold out your hand, and Miguel swears that he is losing his mind.

It’s so… small. Small like the rest of you. Tiny, even. Compared to him.

“Miguel?” you prompt impatiently, and he finally hands you the apple he’s holding, trying not to black out when your little fingers curl tightly around it.

“Thank you,” you huff, insolently, and the hot fire which slides down his spine when he thinks about checking your tone is almost intolerable. Almost.

There’s definitely something wrong with him. Yeah - something besides the more obvious spider-y shit that’s wrong with him. This is something else; because he definitely should not be almost passing out in the cafeteria. Not while thinking about how your hand is so small and strong and how huge his cock would look if only you curled your palm tightly around it.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this at all - and especially not in the cafeteria queue. His suit does not leave a lot of manoeuvre room to successfully obscure the fact that his blood is rushing south. Dangerously fast.

“Miguel!” You wave your palm in front of his vacant face, and he attempts -vaguely- to regain some composure. “Are you even listening to me?”

He’s not. Not listening, but he’s looking.

Fuck. Look at you in that skintight suit. Look at you.

He could pick you up so easily. String you up so easily in his webbing until you were spread open for him, your limbs groaning with the stretch of it. Breasts jiggling as you struggle against your restraints, the reverberating tension in the rope causing your flesh to ripple and bounce.

God. You would look so tiny if he forced his huge throbbing arousal inside of you. So fragile.

He wants that. To split you on his cock. To fuck you so hard that he breaks you.

Anywhere that he considers putting his dick appeals to him. Stuffing it into your mouth. Making you spit on him and grip him in both of your stupid little hands.

Fuck. You would hug him so fucking tight. It would make him feel so powerful to watch you struggling with the size of him. To know he could do whatever he wanted to you.

He wonders. Wonders if it would feel better to have you squirming and screaming on his ropes…or, whether he’d prefer you a different way.

Whether he’d prefer to graze his fangs down the column of your throat. To inject just enough venom into your neck to keep you perfectly still. Still enough, that he could do whatever he wanted to you without even needing to care whether you liked it.

Without hearing your protests.

Without anything else to focus on except his own pleasure. Of the feeling of him filling you up with more than you can take and pushing your juices out of you until they drip down to coat his balls. Of him fucking you while thinking about how sore you would be by the time he was done with you. By the time he’d finally had enough of you spasming around his length, your face tear-stained and eyes -finally- all glazed and vacant.

God, you’re so fucking small. Small enough that he wonders if he could grab up your whole ass cheek in one handful, his talons biting into your firm yet forgiving flesh. If he could cup you whole cunt and feel it warm against him.

Small enough, that maybe he could wrap you up completely in his webbing. Like a cocoon, almost. Leaving nothing but your face and your tits and your wet holes exposed for him.

Maybe he’d leave you venom-free while he did that. Would let you protest. Would give you plenty to protest about. Would let himself get off to the sound of you sobbing that it’s too much. That it’s too big. That you need him to stop.

Fuck - he doesn’t know if he could. Doesn’t know if he could ever stop once he was finally inside you. Not until your little cunt had squeezed every last drop from him - and even then. Even then, maybe he’d keep going until you were fucked open and dripping several of his loads out of you. Until he was maybe even getting bored of the way he’d feel you clamp down around him again and again, gushing with your release - regardless of whether you wanted to.

Hell. Maybe he’d even leave you there strung up for later. Maybe he’d keep you all for himself and never let you go.

“Miguel?” you ask, this time with concern, and the innocence in your eyes as you look up at him - look up at him because you’re so small, so tiny - makes his balls ache. Makes him think about the ways he could make you gag on him, two of him, three of him, so full of him everywhere over and over and over. “You alright?”

“I need you to meet me later,” he husks. “Alone.”

“Okay…” you place your tiny, pathetic hand on his forearm and god; he can’t take it.

All of his senses are so entirely focussed in on you until you’re practically a pinprick. Until his vision of you is so sharp he thinks he must be looking at you with ten eyes. Until there is nothing else in the room.

Wait…

There…

is no room.

His hands…

His hands are bound, not yours. He’s the one who��

Oh God…

He looks down at his naked, sweat-sheened, love-bitten body, his thick arms pulling back and bound behind his head. His cock is out, huge and hard and glistening - flushed a deep crimson with need. Throbbing so hard it hurts.

“Miguel!” you say again, and this time your voice feels far more… real. “Come back to me, love,” Suddenly he remembers. Remembers where he is.

Remembers what you’re doing to him.

Remembers your venom and the power it holds. Remembers your hallucinogen, pumping in his veins.

“Oh Miguel,” you sing-song, squeezing his aching cock in your hands - your small, perfect hands. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

You straddle him now, nude and perfect and so petite you can barely touch your knees to the floor to either side of him as you spread your cunt over his body. Your own arousal is leaking from you. Shining his length as you glide your folds over the girth of him until his cock jerks up, begging to fill you.

He looks down at the red scratches on his bare chest, and he remembers, a dark, crooked smile bedding down over his features as he delights in you. In the combination of reality and fantasy. In the haze only you can induce. The pleasures only you can draw out of him.

“Do you have a little bit of a size kink, baby?”

“Uh. Uh huh. Yes, ma’am.”

“I can taste it. Tastes good.” He wants to taste you. Wants to kiss you. Thank you - but he cranes his mouth up towards yours - thrusts his hips up to shove against your cunt - and you scold him with a sharp tut of your tongue.

Not yet.

“Alright then, love. Let me indulge you.” You drag your claw down his bared, sweat-sheened chest, over the meat of his pec, leaving a shallow trail of seeping red - like you’re trying to bleed him a new suit. He winces - a sharp intake of air - baring his fangs and straining against his restraints once more to no avail.

“Mmmm,” you hum, the sound fragmenting into multiple echoes of sweet, honeyed syllables as your sugary venom takes effect on him all over again. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s see how big I can make your cock look while it’s inside of me. How about that?”

You sink. Hinge at the hips on top of him to lick along the red stripe of iron tang on his chest. And then… Then you sink down on his length, spearing yourself on him, pushing yourself off his chest -palms smearing red. Throwing your head back and writhing your walls around him as he groans for you.

He knows you’ll be able to taste it. Taste his fantasies on the tip of your tongue, in his blood - and he knows too, that you’ll give him exactly what he wants.

He remembers now. Understands. Remembers how this works; and, just like that - he’s back there. He’s back in the cafeteria.

Your voice is all the way in his head, just like he’s shoved all the way in your cunt. Your voice is in his ear, like a devil’s whisper from over his shoulder, even as he could swear that, at the same time, he’s standing here in the cafeteria. Watching you play the angel in front of him. “Show me your fantasy, Miguel,” you whisper, hot and sweet against the shell of him, and so he does.

He’s here. Standing. Towering over you with his stature. Towering over you, and his mouth curls into a devilish snarl as he looks down at your stupid, small hand on his arm. Oh - he remembers. He remembers how it works now.

Here, he can do exactly what he wants to you. Exactly what he wants without repercussion… and he’d already had some exceptionally good ideas on how to make the most of that.

He tongues a single fang as you look up at him. As you look up, so innocent. “You know what?” he asks, turning you abruptly around and folding you right over the table. Shoving your face into its surface with one hand. Tearing the ass right out of your suit with the other, splitting it open like he’s about to do with you. “Why wait until later, little one?”

It is more fun this way, he decides.

It’s much more fun when you struggle.

It’s okay though.

It’s okay.

He shushes you, even as you scream.

Here; in this space, he is free to be a monster. Doesn’t have to hold it back or push it down any longer. Doesn’t need to feel ashamed.

Here, he gets to make his fantasies come true - and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

When you cry out in pain, Miguel feels monstrous; and he likes it. And, even as you squirm beneath him, he knows, that in reality -in the real reality- you like it too.

After all, you’re even more monstrous than he is.

Speaking of… Miguel feels another sharp, blazing, delicious sting across the expanse of his chest - and he remembers.

Remembers that he’d be happy if you kept him in your web, toying with him like this forever. Or, at least, until he begs you to stop - and maybe not even then.

#tw dubcon #tw noncon #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #smut #spider bastard

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