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#he did that before anyways. even though i feel that might be making it worse in the long term for him. but i want the hugs and company :(
anonymouse5 · 2 days
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could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader
i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,
if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me
ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY
hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3
(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)
here you go:
Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?
Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.
It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.
Nope. It just gets worse.
You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.
“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.
But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.
“Wait,” he calls.
Despite yourself, you turn to him.
“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.
You bite back your immediate “yes”.
“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.
He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.
“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”
“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.
“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.
Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.
“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.
“Just trust me,” James says.
You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.
He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.
“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.
The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.
“It worked then?” he asks.
You give him a thumbs up.
He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:
You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?
There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES
You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.
The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.
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dreaming-medium · 1 month
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No Contact
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
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suzukiblu · 8 months
Text
excerpt from in-progress "timebending with Zuko" fic
Zuko wakes up and everything hurts.
Most specifically, his scar hurts.
That . . . doesn’t make sense, he thinks, and reaches for it automatically. A strong hand catches his wrist before he can touch it, which seems–fair, yes. Probably a good idea, anyway, because spirits does it hurt. Just . . . so much.
“Uncle?” he asks reflexively, attempting to open his eyes. It’s surprisingly difficult. And Uncle is in Ba Sing Se, of course, but he’s on his back on a futon or bedroll or something similar and someone’s sitting beside him and his head is swimming and he’s injured, clearly, so options for who said “someone” might be are limited, really.
So it’s not Uncle, obviously, but . . .
“Nephew,” Uncle says, very quietly, and Zuko . . . blinks.
At least, half-blinks. The one eye’s in too much pain to open.
The ceiling is metal, he notes absentmindedly. That’s . . . odd. He was in the palace, wasn't he?
“What happened?” he asks, vaguely bemused. Uncle pauses in a very concerning way, and Zuko has about three heart attacks about just how badly he doesn’t want to know what he’s about to say before–
“The Agni Kai,” Uncle says, very carefully. “Do you remember it?”
Zuko frowns–just with the one side of his face, because again, his scar hurts right now. To the point that his whole body feels wrong, does his scar hurt right now.
“Um–which one?” he asks, because there’s been about a dozen this month alone, and frankly he’s getting really sick of fighting them at this point but if the old guard of nobles are just going to keep dragging everything out like this–
“With your father, Nephew,” Uncle says, very carefully.
Zuko . . . blinks.
“Oh,” he says, vaguely perplexed. Uncle never talks to him about that. “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?”
“Do you remember what happened?” Uncle says.
“The part where I disgraced myself or the part where he burned my face?” Zuko says, because it’s so fucked up and awful and horrible that he can’t even get upset about it anymore, except when he’s really upset about it. But if Uncle’s bringing it up, presumably he has a good reason to be, so . . . “Or the whole ‘go find the Avatar who no one even believes exists anymore or you can never come home again’ part?”
“. . . all of that, yes,” Uncle says, still sounding very careful. Zuko frowns a little–again with just the one side of his face–and then looks over at him. His body still feels weird and wrong, but . . .
But . . .
They’re on a ship, he realizes. A Fire Nation one.
Well, explains the metal ceiling.
It doesn’t explain why Uncle is wearing red armor and a topknot like he hasn't in years, though, or why he looks so unspeakably sad.
“Um,” Zuko says, and attempts to sit up. His head immediately starts swimming even worse, and Uncle catches his shoulders and keeps him pinned against the . . . futon? Looks like a futon, yeah. “Where are we, exactly?”
“We are aboard a ship,” Uncle says. “I . . . may have slightly commandeered it.”
“. . . you paid for it, right?” Zuko asks, a little skeptical at that idea.
“Yes, Nephew, I did,” Uncle says, giving him a very tired, pained smile. Zuko doesn’t feel much better, seeing it.
“Is someone dead?” he asks, because he can’t think of anything else that would make Uncle look that way.
“Ah–no, no one has died,” Uncle says.
“Then what’s wrong?” Zuko asks warily.
“. . . you are injured, Nephew,” Uncle says, slowly. Zuko frowns, bemused. “And your father . . . I did not know he was going to do this. I am so sorry.”
Zuko . . . pauses. Looks around the room again, and then realizes: he knows this room, doesn’t he. He knows this ship.
This is the same ship he woke up on after the Agni Kai.
“Hold that thought, Uncle,” he says, then lifts his hands and looks at them. They . . . well, they are his hands, obviously.
But they’re not his hands, obviously.
“Huh,” he says, frowning in bemusement at them; turning them around like he half-expects them to stop being a thirteen year-old’s or something equally ridiculous. They don’t. They are very definitely a thirteen year-old’s hands.
Specifically, his thirteen year-old hands.
Huh.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says after a moment, putting his hands back down and glancing back to Uncle, who’s obviously the more important concern. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I took you into that meeting,” Uncle says, his voice tight. “And I watched the Agni Kai. And I did nothing to stop any of it.”
“I know,” Zuko says. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” Uncle says, his smile a sad and terrible thing. “You were there because of my actions. My mistakes.”
“You’re not the one who wanted to sacrifice all those soldiers,” Zuko says. “Or the one who decided to throw fire at my face.”
“You were there because of me,” Uncle repeats, his voice tight and his smile no less terrible. It occurs to Zuko, briefly, that Uncle must be thinking of Lu Ten.
He only ever looks like that when he’s thinking about Lu Ten, so . . .
“Uncle,” he says. “Really. It’s not your fault.”
“Nephew,” Uncle says, and his voice is somehow even tighter. Zuko tries to get up again, and his head swims again, and Uncle moves to stop him again. This time he grabs onto Uncle’s wrists and uses them to pull himself up, and then . . .
Well, then he’s sitting up, at least.
So that’s something.
He tilts his head and his hair slips into his eyes. It’s loose, and long. Not shaved on the sides yet, like he wore it the last time he was thirteen. He supposes he should cut it, but then again, why should he? He's not changing anything, after all.
Except for this conversation, he supposes, because that went very differently last time.
. . . hm.
"Uncle," he says one more time, and reaches out for him. Uncle doesn’t seem to understand what he’s trying to do, so he has to reach out a little farther, and then Uncle makes the connection and leans in and lets him wrap his arms around him and alright, yes: that’s better, Zuko thinks, and clings to him.
Just a little, perhaps, but . . .
Yes. He clings to him.
Uncle wraps his arms around him in turn, very carefully, and makes an awful sound.
“My boy,” he chokes. “I’m so–I’m so–”
“I forgive you,” Zuko lies, because of course there’s nothing to forgive.
But of course Uncle doesn’t understand that, does he.
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faggy--butch · 17 days
Note
sorry to ramble in your inbox but its kinda fucking me up how "trans man with a cishet boyfriend who misgenders him behind his back" is like seen to be a person to make fun of in the general queer tumblr space instead of a person who is in a vulnerable situation. i know that there is trans men who are also women and there are trans men who are genuinely okay with dating a cis man who considers himself straight but people talking about these hypothetical couples arent talking about these situations but rather about "haha stupid trans man doesnt realize hes dating a bigot"
theres this attitude that the hypothetical cishet boyfriend is actually a conservative so it should be obvious to trans man that he doesnt respect his identity but i feel like its less "oh its obvious that this specific man is a bigot" and more "obviously cishet white men are bigots" and its weird how people laugh at this person instead of acknowledging that even if you are dating a bigot its usually not a big win for you personally. like the bigot cishet boyfriend isnt going to be okay with his trans man boyfriend starting testosterone. like we can sympathize with emotional abuse happening towards other groups but when its gay and mspec trans men its like "oh he should have known that would happen" or "its his fault for dating a bigot"?
of course people have the same making fun of the victim narrative with afab nonbinary people who date cishet men who misgender them [and im sure this bleeds over to affecting all nonbinary people if people arbitrarily decide theyre afab if the nonbinary person refuses to tell them personal information about themselves but the larger narrative always specifies that this is an afab person] and its almost like a "this is what you get for being attracted to men" sort of thing.
and also i theres something to be said about warning people for signs their partner or potential partner doesnt respect their identity but considering i imagine its a common anxiety among trans and nonbinary people who are into that sorta thing to wonder "am i ever going to find someone who loves me and is also accepting of me for being [insert gender here]?" its sort of fucked up for it to be common to basically claim "yea if youre dating a cis man who said he was straight before he started dating you but says he respects your identity hes probably just straight up lying to your face" and then laugh at the person getting misgendered for not knowing they were being misgendered.
anyway sorry for this big ramble i cant even remember specific instances of this to reference so i might seem like im making up a guy to be mad at but i swear this is like a general attitude and almost running joke i see around. anyway. have a good day.
I absolutely see that too, and I think it's a mixture of straight up victim blaming, because oh noo how dare you WANT to date *gasp* cis men
but it come with an intense transandrophobia and exorsexism because there's a lot more sympathy when it comes to cis women dating cishet men "poor things uwu" but when it's trans men or in this case non binary people assumed to be women, it's always "see I told you so" smug superiority. (cis women get this too, because of misogyny obviously, but it's different and worse for trans men) People are just waiting for a chance to be misogynistic and trans men are an acceptable target. This is honestly extra fucked up when we remember that trans men experience some of the highest rates of domestic violence and rape in the community though.
being trans is such a vulnerable place to be in, and a lot of people, trans or not are insecure or just want to be loved, that's normal. A lot of people are willing to accept certain behaviors from their partners that are bad, because of those reasons as well, victim blaming, and ESPECIALLy telling trans men to toughen up or "what did you expect" is apart of the toxic expectations that get placed of trans men as well. I could honestly go on for hours about this. good ask,anon
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: blood
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.” 
“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them. 
“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.” 
You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.” 
“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.” 
“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.” 
“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless. 
“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?” 
Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…” 
“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.” 
You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand. 
“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.” 
“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask. 
“Well, he does live here.” 
You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?” 
James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.” 
“You could take him,” you grumble. 
He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.” 
You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.” 
James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.” 
It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.” 
He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.” 
Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop. 
“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen. 
James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first. 
“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?” 
James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself. 
“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?” 
You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say. 
Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”
“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that. 
“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.
“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.
“Stitches?” 
“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.” 
You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee. 
His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink. 
“Not so badly,” you tell him. 
He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?” 
You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.” 
He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner. 
“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.” 
“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.” 
James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.” 
You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?” 
You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully. 
“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter. 
You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.” 
“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”
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factual-fantasy · 7 months
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Okay so I did some research on Seam and realized that it would be a crime to not add him to my AU in someway where him and Jevil reconcile and they escape to the multiverse together and are free and they're best friends and- 😭😭😭
I had a dark story all thought up for this but half way through drawing I changed the story so this isn't really canon anymore?? Or it might be idk- my Deltarune AU is only a few days into development so its constantly changing <XDD Sorry-
If anyone's interested in the story I've got it below the Keep reading :}} (Fair warning, its rather dark and disturbing..)
TLDR: This story is super dark and interesting to me but it might not be canon XD
ANYWAYS! The story behind this was Jevil and Seam come from a very dark and corrupt AU. Ruled by an even darker and wicked King (Lancers dad). In this AU they were Kings royal Magician and Jester as per usual. They were best friends though and preformed these beautiful displays of magic together. Side by side, hand in hand. They were best friends for years and always dreamed of one day running away together and finding a safe place to live.
Eventually Jevil met someone. Someone who spoke of a way to leave this place. They spoke of walking through your own reflection. And if done right, one could leave their AU entirely.. Jevil believed them out of desperation and tried to tell Seam about it. Seam thought Jevil was losing his mind. Walking through your own reflection? That makes no sense..
King caught wind of them plotting to escape. And as punishment to both of them he commanded Seam to lock Jevil away using his own magic.
In Seams eyes, Jevil was his best friend. His brother, the only thing in this world that he could trust. But he was more afraid of what King would do to him or Jevil for disobeying him, then he was willing to stand up against him. So while believing Jevil was sick in the head and needed help, he acted out of cowardice and sealed Jevil away..
I'm thinking that eventually sometime later, Jevil is able to escape through his own reflection. A mirror. And either he goes back and sees Seam dressed in these beautiful robes and thinks "well the king must be treating him well. Guess I'll just leave him to reap the benefits of betraying me.. >:(" And leaves with a bitter heart. THAT, or he just left. Never going back to check on Seam or see if King was treating him well or not.
So the AU continues. With Jevil traveling from world to world, meeting new people and learning new things.. When eventually he's with the whole gang and they're all sitting in a restaurant or something.
When Jevil suddenly feels this overwhelming sense of doom. Something horrible is about to happen to Seam. He just knows it, its in his bones. Deep within his soul he can feel it. He knows- he needs to save him.
He falls back out of his chair into a mirror and heads straight for his old AU. Showing up just in time to stop Seam from.. well..
They end up talking. Turns out that after Jevil was imprisoned, Seam tried to sneak down to the basement and visit him. He wanted to apologize for imprisoning him and explain himself- but he was caught by King.
"I just wanted to see him!"
"For that I will take your eye."
"NO! Please don't take my eye!!"
"For talking back, I will take your voice too."
King took Seams eye and stitched his mouth shut. He could still talk but not very well. To make things worse, when Jevil escaped? Seam thought he had died. Why wouldn't he? His magical barrier was never broken and Jevil was gone. Surly he must have died somehow.. Meanwhile everyone else was under the impression that Seam let Jevil escape because they were friends.
Seam then suffered greatly for years as punishment for "letting Jevil escape". He was bound by these magical chains made by King. He was abused for years and at this point he had enough. But before he could do anything rash.. Jevil returned.
Jevil then felt the sinking horror realizing that he left Seam alone in this world to be abused by King. He abandoned him. After all those years of promising to one day run away together..
Seam betrayed Jevil, and Jevil abandoned Seam.
After realizing all of this and having a long emotional talk. Seam and Jevil deeply apologized to the other, and forgave each other. Marking the beginning of their new friendship. And despite Seam feeling like he doesn't deserve freedom, he agreed to run away with Jevil and finally be free with him.
~~~~
Now this story is super cool and morbid and all but now I'm questioning the story and wether or not I want it to be canon <XD
I have some other ideas that I really like too and this one is just a biiiiit dark... ish. I mean I've made worse- but idk I guess this one just has a bad taste to it..
I also like the idea that Seam has been with Jevil this whole time and was the first person he saved. Which motivated him to try and save other people and give them the same freedom that he gave to Seam. But then that would change the Grillby fight and Spamton situation a bit and also maybe effect the Goner kid situation- GAH!! I'll figure it out eventually- <XDD
I hope this wasn't too hard to stomach and if you read all the way through I thank you :}} 💖
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lustlovehart · 4 months
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Scarlet in Black
Pairing: Blade x Reader
A/n: I love Mr Bladie. Also if there are any spelling errors im so srry abt that <3
Summary: [Yandere] Blade appears in your home, neither of you understand why, but both of you know when he leaves it wont be for long. Though, you will never know of his plan that fate had secured for him. | Part 2 ‘Cease The Blaze’
Warnings: Blood, Breaking in, Suggestive Tension, Biting/Hickey, Implied Nsfw, Violent Thoughts (Bladie), Themes of Codependency, Implied Kidnapping
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The house is pitch dark at night, the way it should be. Red scarlet eyes bleed into the dark, illuminating crimson into the shadows of your home, that is not how it should be.
The strong iron smell of blood, intruding into your nostrils, the thick pungent liquid seeping into the clean sheets of your bed.
"Blade, why are you in my room"
He does not answer.
The scent of the grotesque liquid continues to spread around the room, the deep red both beautiful yet terrifying. It’s all over him. You know it’s not his own.
“Blade.”
He always doesn’t answer.
The man in front of you continues to dirty the covers with blood that is not his own,at least, you think it's not. It makes you wanna wretch at the thought of having to sleep in it. Slowly you take a step forward, he could be stricken with mara as of the moment, but you continued anyway.
Your figure is soon in front of his, red eyes look up at you from the mattress. He doesn’t speak a word as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him.
You sat in his lap as your own clothes and skin are seeped with his crimes. It takes all the effort you could muster to not push him away. You take a mental note to take a shower immediately when he’s gone.
His face buries itself into your neck, a deep inhale of you before he exhales all his warmth into your skin, chills going down your spine at the feeling despite the heat of his breath. The fingers of the hunter squeezing at parts of you you’d rather not find blood in, but nonetheless you let him.
“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here now?” He takes a moment to respond, momentarily distracted with tracing his lips across your carotid arteries. Any longer and you’d believe he was a vampire ready to sting his fangs into you.
“Because of you.” Seems like he's leaving his descriptions vague once again.
“How informative.”
Perhaps your assumption of him being a vampire was more of a fact rather than speculation. Honestly, you'd prefer him being a Vampire than whatever he is now.
His canines put pressure on your skin, tongue lapping over the designated spot, saliva coating the patch of skin. You wince at the feeling, but put up with it despite it, knowing he could do much worse than he is now.
Even with the pain, you can tell the murderer in front of you is holding himself desperately back. If he truly wasn't restraining himself you have no doubt he could effortlessly break your legs as if they were toothpicks.
Actually, he might be thinking about it. (He is, but he restrains himself nontheless)
The pressure subsided as he lifts his lips from you, a dark purple left in the most obvious place on your neck.
You take a deep breath in, before speaking once more, fingers entangling into his hair, briefly getting caught in a part of it that had dried blood in the strands.
"Did you really come here for me?"
"Mm... Yes." Brief, like usual. His words sound deep, coming out from the back of his throat. "I was thinking of you." You don't say anything else, burying you head in the crook of his neck, it smelled disgusting but maybe it could distract you for a moment in time.
"When will you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Will I see you then?"
"No, not at all." Typical, whenever he visits no trace of him is left behind. Even after hundreds of visits, when you wake up in the morning it's as if he had never existed in the first place, the only parts of him he leaves behind being the hickies and bite marks he leaves on you the night before, perhaps even a sticky residue if the two of you were particularly rough.
You hum in a reply. The more you look at him the more you question whose blood it is, a twisted curiosity. His hands start to embrace dangerously close to parts of you that should not be touched by anothers blood. Before he could draw himself any closer he pauses, fingers immediately stopping his advance.
“Do you, want me to take a shower first?” The question shocks you.
"Wow, this is rare, you actually thought about taking a shower?"
"You wince whenever you get close enough to smell it. I thought it would help you."
"So you noticed that... Its kinda worrying that you only decided to start taking showers for it now though..."
"I wanted you to get used to it." You look into his eyes, opening your mouth, but no words seem to come out, only a breath of air as you sigh. He notices but doesnt say anything.
"Why would you... want me to get used to that...?"
"If you did, maybe..." He doesn't continue his sentence, silently trailing off as he stares into your chest.
"Maybe...?"
"No, nevermind. I can't let you."
Instead of continuing his sentence he buries his face into you, and you let him. He'll be gone by the morning. You kind of hope he doesn't leave, as if he was an illusion, but you understand the nature of his job.
Even then though, you can't help but grip onto him tightly, the drying blood digging beneath your fingernails. You don't want him to leave, not again. Maybe if you were to desperately hold on to him he would stay with you, he would want to stay.
You don't know when it happened, but at some point in this bond, you had grown way too attached to the only constant in your life.
You feel arms start to tighten around you, almost suffocating how close it was. The criminal in front of you pulls you down onto your newly washed sheet, staining it red. His arms don't seem to let go of you however.
"I'll stay with you."
The words sent a shock through you. Did he really mean it? He wouldn't leave you again.
"But that means, you're willing to stay with me in return. Will you shoulder the burdens that come with me."
Your mind feels clouded, you know you shouldn't but you can't help but want to.
In this vulnerable moment, you will never notice the violet eyes that play with the strings of fate watching in the corner, awaiting the script to properly play out.
———
Depending on how well received this post gets I might-?? Make a second part that's either placed before or after this. Before being how blade and reader first had whatever they have, and after being smthn else.
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cod-dump · 2 months
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Nikpricegraves thoughts, special delivery!
Nik getting more grey in his hair, and neither Price or Graves wants to bring it up, because they don't know how Nik feels about it. They dom't want to make him feel self-conscious.
So they wait. And Nik finally brings it up, very casually (fronting like hell) musing aloud that he might color the grey so people don't think their evac pilot is too old.
And maaaaybe Price and Graves wanted their responses to be a liiiittle more restrained, a little more level-headed. But they weren't.
Price: You are not TOUCHING that silver--
Graves: Like HELL you're--absolutely not!
Price: Anyone lucky enough to have you picking him up has no right to complain about that!
Graves: And it's sexy as hell anyway!
Price: Exactly, you're fuckin gorgeous.
Nik: ... Thank you?
Nik was a very confident man. He was sure of himself, comfortable in his own skin and almost never doubted himself. But seeing the thin stripes of silver in his hair… he wasn’t too confident on it. The reality of him being old was setting in and he wasn’t very happy about it.
Nik never gave the thought of him getting old much thought considering he didn’t think he would get this far, especially not with his constant flirting with death. He never thought about how he would feel about growing grey, and now that it was here, highlighting his temples? Nik felt his heart squeeze, uncertainty making his chest tight.
Worse part was that neither his husband or boyfriend had mentioned anything about the grey, which just added to his uncertainty about it. He’s caught them whispering about it, both immediately cutting themselves off upon noticing him. He’s caught them staring, again no comments about it. Nik knows they had noticed it, of course they did. They notice everything new or different about him, most of the time even before he’s noticed it.
He didn’t like their silence and was choosing to assume the worst. But he kept quiet, just like how they were choosing to stay quiet. The topic of greying hair wouldn’t come up until one night while they ate dinner. He couldn’t help but stare at their own hair, how he would’ve noticed if John had started to grey (surprising he hadn’t by this point). The silver would’ve been noticeable amongst his dark brown hair, within his beard. It would be undeniably attractive.
Phil greying would been less noticeable considering his golden hair. There would’ve needed to be quite a few grey hairs before it was obvious and even then it would blend nicely with the gold strands. It would add to the American’s charm. Both would carry silver has crowns yet… Nik couldn’t determine that about himself. Couldn’t see himself with it, even as it took residence within his hair.
“I think I need to start investing in hair dye.”
The speed in which Phil turned his head to look at him made Nik fear he would break his neck. John just froze mid bite, eyes looking up to stare at him. Nik kept his usual level of smug confidence about him even though he wasn’t feeling anything remotely similar. Phil swallows his food, taking a deep swig of his water before he glares at him.
“Over my dead body.”
Nik blinked in surprise, his facade cracking.
“Nik, my love, if you do that you’d break my heart,” John added, staring intensely at him.
Nik looked between his partners before he cleared his throat, “Right-“
“Nikky, I’m serious,” Phil said firmly, “That silver is so fucking hot and if you dye it I’ll probably cry.”
“I second that,” John said very seriously.
Nik couldn’t help but laugh at their seriousness. Phil stood and walked behind him fingers going into his hair which of course caused Nik to lean back and practically melt. John stood as well and walked over.
“Should’ve known something was up when you hadn’t said anything. Big, bad Nikolai, insecure over some grey hairs.”
Nik huffs, closing his eyes as Phil continued to play with his hair, “I am not insecure.”
“You just said you wanted to dye it.”
Nik huffs, he could hear Phil’s smirk. He mustered up an unamused frown, which was immediately chased away by a well placed kiss from John. Nik was choosing to be annoyed in order to hide how relieved he felt about their approval. The two would probably pry that confession out of him later when it wouldn’t add onto their smugness over his unusual lack of confidence.
“You might want to prepare for when we return from leave, the boys are definitely going to say something when they notice.”
Nik snorts, “If they have a problem with their transport getting grey then they can cry about it.”
“Cry and complain, with bad jokes on the side.”
By the time they returned from leave, Nik would regain his rock solid confidence. And some jokes of his own because what is an old man without his jokes?
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minimoxha · 7 months
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kinktober 2023 - the album
௹ sᴏɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ - ᴅᴜᴍʙɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ AND sex pollen
௹ ғᴛ- ᴊᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ, sᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ, degregation
i was gonna do soilja boy but do people like the boys still?
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"You are nothing more than a dumb whore, I swear." Jason pushed out a struggled moan as he thrusts deep down your throat. Even though I did sit there, hands tied behind my back and taking Jasons cock on the floor you I wondered with my brain three seconds away from becoming useless, where this had come from.
Sex pollen was what his new attitude had come from. After a run with Ivy's sex pollen, Bruce had mistakenly allowed Jason to come home to you because he was showing no signs of symptoms and he urged the man to let him go home. Though a late bloomer, the pollen was still there and took Jason by storm which led to the current events.
The brunette man let out a long moan as he shook with his pending orgasm on the rise. "Fuck your mouth is amazing." He sped up his assault on your throat while holding my head tighter as if I was going to go anywhere, to begin with. His dick twitched as he came down my throat with loud moans. His grip on my head loosened as he shut his eyes in pure bliss, allowing himself to feel the bliss of his orgasm that probably felt 10x better because of the sex pollen he was currently on.
When the last spurts of cum finally sprayed all over my mouth he let me go and stumbled to the other side of the room. Shakily lifting myself up, I look at the man as he hunched over our shared apartment bed, making all types of noises. For a second, I thought about the best way to approach him before creaping up behind him.
"Jay? Are you alright?" You spoke with a waivered tone to your voice. It wasnt fear, no, it was worry because Jason sounded like he was truly in pain. And when he turned to face you, cheeks red and dick hard, he looked as if he was in pain. How could he be like that after he just came down your throat? His cock hard as if he didnt cum at all? "Jay? What the hell?!"
I'd be muttering those same words when Jay grabbed mefrom where I was , steps behind him and slammed my body on the bed pretty damn harshly. "I'm sorry- I have to be inside of you, Y/n." He said, pretty damn warn out and in a rather scared tone as if he didnt know what was coming. That did set red flags in my head but the way he was whimpering and treated me made the red mix into green really quick. Slowly moving my hands up his chest in an attempt to be sexy, I nodded at him.
Jason had all the confirmation he needed even though he didn't really need confirmation in the beginning. He just came home and placed me on my knees before ramming into my mouth at the start of the night anyway. However, once he got the confirmation he decided to use me as he pleased, starting with flipping me over on my hands and knees and allowing me to put all my weight down on his face to eat me out. I was lucky that his hands had somehow found their way in an unbreakable grip on my hips or I might have tried to lift myself up from the pleasure I was receiving. It made me think, when was the last time Jason had sat to properly eat me out? To damn long, obviously, as I was shaking and convulsing from the movements he had made with his tongue. He moved and twisted his tongue like my pussy was the last meal he'd ever have, I moaned loudly. My hands rushed to find somewhere that I could hold me as my orgasm snuck up on me and crashed. Jasons assault got worse as my orgasm subsided, his grip getting tighter and his tounge going faster, leaving me extremely overstimulated.
Jason didn't stop until he felt my hands banging on his head, using every attempt to move that I could. By the time he was finished, my mind was starting to feel pretty cloudy again. "Jay- I need a break." I attempted to mutter out but I'm sure it came out as a moan and a whine mixed in with some broken English.
However, even If it didn't come out in broken English and moans, there was no way that Jason was stopping now. In a flash, he flipped me over to lie on my back. I could see him, slowly moving his hands up my body until he got to my pussy which was dripping from his tongue and my arousal. It only got wetter as he started to position his cock to line up with my entrance. He roughly pushed in and started his thrusts at a brutal pace, not giving my pussy any time to adjust to his size. Not that I needed it anyway, my mind went hazy before either of us could finish. All I could hear was Jaon let out curses of " You dumb baby bitch." And "I'm just going to turn you fucking stupid before I completely went (temporarily) brain-useless. I did feel the many orgasms gave me throughout the night before he even finished himself. And even when he did, he wasnt completely out of commisison yet, he took a minute (if that) before moving me in whatever positions he wanted and changing my guts.
In the morning, I awoke to an aching pain in my ass and a weak feeling in my legs. It felt like I was hit by a bus but I wasn't. I was hit by the after-effects of the sex-pollinated man who lay next to me, finally asleep.
IM TRYING TO GET BETTER AT WRITING SMUT- WAIT!
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asolareclipses · 1 month
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“Isn’t she a beaut?”
“A what?”
“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.
“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.
“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.
Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”
“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.
As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.
“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.
“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”
Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.
“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.
Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”
“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”
“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”
“Leo-“
“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.
Nico nodded with a sigh.
Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”
“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.
“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.
The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.
Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.
“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”
“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”
“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”
Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.
A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.
“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.
As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.
Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.
The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.
As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.
“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.
Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong
Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.
Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.
Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”
A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.
“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.
Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.
The world went black.
Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.
The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.
The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.
Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.
Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.
“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.
Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”
Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”
Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”
Splash.
Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.
Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.
Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.
As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.
“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.
Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.
He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.
Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.
“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.
Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.
Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?
Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.
The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”
On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.
As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.
“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.
“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.
Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”
“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”
Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”
Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.
“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.
Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”
He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.
“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.
“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.
“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.
“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”
“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”
No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?
“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.
Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.
Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.
Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.
His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.
Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.
“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.
Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.
“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.
“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”
“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.
“We can’t. I can.”
“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”
Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.
“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.
“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.
“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.
Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.
Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”
“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”
Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”
Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.
It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.
“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”
Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”
It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.
“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.
Nico nodded, “I guess.”
Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.
“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.
“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.
The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.
“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”
Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”
“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”
“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.
“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“
Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.
“Gods Leo use your legs.”
“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.
“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.
“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.
“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”
Leo smirked, “If you insist.”
Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.
“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.
Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”
“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”
“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”
Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”
“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.
Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.
Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.
“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.
“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.
“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”
Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.
“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.
A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.
Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.
“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.
Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”
Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”
Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”
“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.
So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.
Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.
But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.
(Part Two)
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strongheartneteyam · 9 months
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[ all credits of the Neteyam pic go to the incredibly talented @cinetrix ♡]
Champagne Problems
Part 2
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: neteyam is a simp for reader, black cat gf/golden retriever bf "trope", a whole lot of angst, beach party, use of alcohol, some romantic comedy vibes, neteyam acting a bit cocky lol, reader is a tiny bit of a meanie towards neteyam, sexual language, sexual content, reader is a bit antisocial, flirting, emotionally unavailable bc of trauma reader, unrequited love (neteyam is the one having the unrequited feelings), sexual tension, commitment issues, exophilia, size kink, interspecies relationship, bad words. Hit me up to lemme know if I forgot something ahaha
Do you guys remember the story inspired by Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift that I promised like ages ago? Well... The first part is here? 🤓 A lot of people seemed to be excited to read this when I posted that sneak peak. Hope you guys like it! kiss kiss 💗
Neteyam and Reader (AI Art)
Slightly proofread.
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Part 1 : Say Yes to Heaven
𓇼
If you dance, I'll dance
And if you don't, I'll dance anyway
Give peace a chance
Let the fear you have fall away
I've got my eye on you
(...)
Say yes to Heaven, say yes to me
Say Yes To Heaven (Lana Del Rey)
𓇼
"It's not like you're not gonna break me in half if we try to get down and dirty." You laugh a bit too much, the alcohol invading your brain slowly, making you care less and less about behaving in a "socially acceptable" way. Though you wondered if your not-a-bit-elegant-honesty mattered at all to Neteyam Sully, the na'vi boy sitting in the maroon leather couch, by your side, his huge size making the couch look ridiculously small. He was na'vi, after all. Totally different culture. The na'vi were way more upfront about their real thoughts and feelings.
Neteyam had been talking loudly, almost yelling, at your ear for the past 40 minutes, trying to make his voice sound louder than the party's music, so you could hear him try to convince you to hook up with him. As if the loud uplifting songs that echoed in the salty air of that Metkayina beach were not enough to bug your tired head, now you had Neteyam helping your headache get worse.
"That doesn't mean you can't let me take you home. Or even let me make you my mate, eventually, if we end up falling in love while we fuck under the starry sky. You might like laying with me in my hammock and letting me pleasure you more than you think. Maybe you'll want to be my girl once you get a taste of this na'vi spice" He was joking around with you while flirting.
His thick, muscular but still fleshy thighs were spread on the sofa way too much to your liking. It was almost like he was trying to show you how masculine or desirable - some bullshit like that - he was. You know, that kind of thing a lot of guys usually do when trying to seduce you.
You knew Neteyam was aware he was handsome, that his body was attractive. He had always had girls - na'vi and human - all over him since he was a teen, drooling over his beauty.
But if he thought his loverboy flirting that must have worked so easily with just way too many girls before was gonna work that easily with you, he was mistaken.
Okay, you had to admit he was being pretty insistent, though. Neteyam had been there for almost an hour already. You did not understand what was making him insist that much on you if you had an armor as impenetrable as the one of a human warrior of the Middle Ages, back on Earth. And those armors were really hard to get under.
"Listen" you took a last big sip of your champagne and put the glass cup on the wooden table next to the sofa "When you gonna give up, honey? It's not gonna work. I'm not hooking up with you." You looked him in the eyes.
Goddamn, were his orbs big compared to the ones of a human. 
They were beautiful, though.
Damn, (y/n)! Focus, girl!
"I'm known among my people for being disciplined, focused and getting what I want because I fight hard for it. You're my focus now, tawtute." (human) I'm not giving up on you. You're like my Ikran. You're wild and hard to get but I'll conquer you, sevin tawtute." (pretty human) "On the first try."
"Cocky much?" You smirked and shook your head in disapproval "No, but, seriously, Neteyam, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten about tsaheylu? I don't have a neurological queue, babe. I know I have many braids in my hair," You pointed out your hairstyle "but they're all regular human braids. None of them have little tendrils on its tip. Sorry, Neteyam. We're Romeo and Juliet. And Juliet doesn't even love Romeo in this story. You're deemed to heartbreak." You said, like you could not care less about his attempts to win you over, sipping on your sparkling champagne, that went down your throat comfortably, making you feel cozy and safe. It wasn't gonna work, anyway.
You liked champagne a bit too much... you had to admit it was very possible that you had a bit of a drinking problem. Alcohol made you feel warm inside. In an emotional way too. It felt like someone was hugging you, when you would not let many real people hug you because you just were not exactly enthusiastic about having physical contact with just anyone. You only let your closest friends and some family members, like your little sister, hug you. 
Some people would often call you "cold" and say that you acted "like a queen, above everyone else", behind your back, but that could not be further from the truth. You actually hated how low your actual self steem was.
"Why don't you look at Munì?" You mentioned the curvy, tall, blue eyed Metkayina girl who clearly had a mad crush on Neteyam. She was incredibly pretty. Nobody could deny that. "She has been drooling over you ever since you got here. Give the poor girl a chance. She's such a cutie. If I liked girls, I'd easily do her. Look at those beautiful, long, toned legs. Look at her wide hips. Damn, she's yummy!" you were drinking too much, your honesty getting way too out there.
"I don't want her. I want you." He spoke, like he really meant it. "My hammock will be hanged between those two big trees you like to collect fruits from. I'll be waiting for you, if you want to meet me."
With that last line being said, Neteyam got up from the sofa and walked away, swiftly finding his younger brother Lo'ak and tapping on his back, like men usually do. Both brothers started what looked like an interesting conversation.
You were left alone wondering how Neteyam could say those words and walk away so nonchalantly. 
"Phew! I thought he'd never leave, girlie." Adeline screamed, coming closer to you.
She was your best friend. You guys knew way too much about each other, but that only drove you closer and made you two have a beautiful bond that felt unbreakable. She was one of the few people in the world you trusted with many of your secrets. But not even she knew everything about you. Yes, talk about trust issues…
"God, I was about to call his sister to take him away! Kiri is much more chill and quiet compared to her siblings. She's a sweetheart." You said, finally letting your guard down and being able to relax your body language, laying back on the couch and resting your bare feet on the wooden dark brown table in front of you
𓇼
You cursed yourself while you walked towards Neteyam's big light brown hammock, hanged between two big beautiful trees that reminded you of the Palm Trees that used to exist on Planet Earth.
Why were you doing that, anyway?
"Tawtute! You came." Neteyam smiled, relief all over his face 
You sighed.
"Yeah, but I'm still wondering why I did."
"Ouch!" He put his huge four fingered hand on his chest and frowned, like he was in pain
You rolled your eyes at him.
"Stop that, silly." Crossing your arms, you walked towards the big tropical tree in front of his hammock but still a little far
"Hey! Where are you going?" Neteyam almost screamed as you were already further away from him than you should be if you were actually gonna have sex with him
It was like you were running away from and showing up to the "job" at the same time. Go figure out.
You rested your back against that large tree, feeling the rough edges of the wood harassing your skin.
Neteyam was already almost there where you were. His long na'vi legs helped him walk faster than you anticipated.
Neteyam got next to you. You felt a little fear but a bit of excitement, simultaneously, when you realized your head only reached his hip.
Fuck, he was a giant next to you… why the hell did that turn you on?
"Are you afraid of me, yawntutsyìp?" (little loved one) Neteyam said in a lewd, low voice as you looked at him, feeling like a pathetic little ant looking up at a human
Was that how ants felt?
"No, silly, I'm not." You looked away from him and tried to focus on the way the eclipse had beautiful violet and blue tones
That almost worked. If it wasn't for Neteyam using his huge alien hand to stroke your hair softly.
"You're so pretty, tawtute." You could feel his gaze directed at you, you could feel his heat burning your skin. The desire he felt for you was almost freaking tangible. 
You kept your eyes on the stars.
"You're not gonna look at me, yawntutsyìp? Lemme see those pretty eyes, hmm?" Fuck, he was turning you on so much, your pussy felt good already and there was a tight knot forming in your lower belly. How did he do that to you with so little effort?
You looked up at Neteyam's face, your neck hurting. You did not expect to see a big bulge under his navy blue loincloth, though. Neteyam was so huge you could not help staring and your face totally betrayed your surprise.
"C'mon, I wanna feel your tiny body on mine." He paused and his big blue hand traced your collarbone and your shoulders "You're so small, tawtute… Hmmm…" he let out something between a moan and a growl "So soft too." Neteyam squeezed your arm, feeling your soft human flesh against his slender fingers "I love how different from na'vi girls you are. I'm so lucky to have you all to myself tonight."
Your breath was now labored and your pussy was soaked. Your poor panties were all wet.
"I'm dying to squeeze those titties. They look incredibly soft. But I won't do anything that intimate before you say "yes" first, yawntutsyìp."
Taglist:
@yeosxxx (u asked to be tagged in all my writings so I'm tagging u here hehe)
Comments are very welcome. I love all of you who take time to read my writings ♡ Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just leave a comment down below <3
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howdoesagrapewrites · 4 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐞
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Plot: You, the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen grew up with a very devoted extended family. But after the dance of dragons begins, you know exactly on what side you belong
Cw: incest/targcest, yandere/lovesick behavior, unhealthy relationships, platonic and romantic yanderes, not everyone is romantically involved with reader, yandere EVERYONE x reader, sexual content, no actual smut, mentions of noncon, Aegon being... Him
Notes: I didn't love to make such a long post for the last ending, so this will be a series as well (and I also find it more convenient as people tend to be less likely to read long posts)
You will understand this better if you read this ending
>The night of king Viserys' last supper, you were the victim of a mysterious illness, and were forced to stay in King's Landing as your family returned to Dragonstone
>Since then, you had to be a witness of Aegon's usurpation, and were forced to marry prince Aemond, becoming a prisoner in the strong walls of the red keep in all but name
>You decided very early on that you will return home to your family, you will not be accomplice to this insult to the rightful heir, Rhaenyra
>You loved Alicent, you did, but what she did to you, to your family, was a betrayal. She married you to Aemond, even though she knew of your affection for Daeron, she marries you without your permission or even announcement, she marries you to Aemond, as if it was her call, as if she was in her right to betroth you to anyone
>And the one who you thought of as a brave knight, was silent to the whole thing, not a word to say to you
>In a span of mere days, your affection for them had virtually vanished
>It was hard, and it hurt to feel like all your life you had trusted people who would treat you like this
>Especially for Daeron and Alicent
>But you will have time to mourn later
>You tell yourself you can't let your feelings stale you
>It was the night after Aegon's coronation, Aemond, should be asleep next to you, but he is too busy on the council, fooling himself acting as hand of the king
>Which it's perfect for you, since you want to do anything you can to avoid consummating your marriage
>Your father had taught you everything about the secret passages in the Red Keep, he knew them as well as king Maegor himself, and though you could not memorize it as well, it was enough to know how to get out
>But you had a mission first
>"He wears the conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword and has the conqueror's name" said Alicent
>It was too soon to take away his crown, you not take away his name, but you certainly could take away his sword. It's not like he'd use it anyway
>You looked in the mirror and fixed yourself before going out through the passages, you felt a little disgusted with yourself
>It took you some time to get to Aegon's chambers, (to your surprise) Aegon was there instead of a rat infested brothel
>Still, he was much too drunk to notice you, and he was alone. It had been years since he and Helaena had shared a bed. You pitied her, but at least she was lucky, she had given not one but two male heirs, and she had no reason to keep "trying" with Aegon
>You walked on your tiptoes, the sword was hanging in the wall next to his bed, you feared the sound of metal would wake him up
>But it didn't, he instead was (somehow) was sober enough to know you were there, and most importantly, to know it was you
>"Y/N, you are here..." His voice was as drowsy as it was whiny "Came to congratulate the king?" You could see his repugnant smirk aimed at you
>"Indeed, your grace" you lied
>"Come here, here" he sat on the pillows and patted on the mattress to invite you
>"I don't think that would be appropriate, your grace" you were tense, and scared. You avoided him, you don't remember well when it happened, but he changed, he scared you, you feared he might do something to you, and you could do nothing to retaliate, now it was worse, he was the king
>"Pleaaseeeee, pleaseee, just a bit, just for now, I won't do anything" he promised
>"I truly do not think it would be fitting for your grace to be in that position... Even in innocently" you really hoped for the "innocently" part to be true
>But Aegon did the face a child does once they remember something important, like a candle lighting on their head "But I'm your grace, I'm the king, I demand you come here"
>You could do nothing to those words, so you obeyed
>You sat down at the edge of his bed, but he signaled you to be closer, next to him
>"I like when you say your grace, when you say it to me" he smiled
>"It is how one must address you now, just that"
>Aegon pouted
>"Do you love me?"
>You were speechless, and struggled to come up with a polite response to that, you finally just said every subject must love the king, you just prayed for safety being so close, so late, so alone with him
>"But do you love me? Me? Do you love me now?"
>"I- I beg your pardon?"
>"I wanted you to love me, Y/N, do you love me now? I'm king, do you love me now?" He was drunk, slurring his words and repeating them
>You blushed and you felt your heart pound, you were scared, you knew that. But you were also even a little sad for him, you wanted to look at him the way you did when you both were young, you could, and at the same time, it was impossible
>You don't remember how he ended up in front of you, facing you with sad eyes, and unmistakable stink of wine, that reminded you of who he was now
>"I think I'll always love you, Aegon" you wanted to believe it was a lie you told yourself it was
>A tear or two ran through his pale cheeks and he threw himself to your arms, almost knocking you beneath him in bed
>But instead of the lecherous predatory behavior you expected, he just kissed your cheeks and tried to kiss you in the mouth, it was gross, wet, he was drunk so he was salivating
>You grabbed his face with your hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, he asked for more, but he instantly decided he was tired, and grabbed you like a ragdoll, pushing you to the pillows and beneath the blankets with him, you're still fully clothed so it feels heavy. Aegon hugs you like a Teddy bear until he quickly falls asleep, when you try to leave, he complains in his sleep and grabs the fabric of your clothes. But you manage to slip a pillow in between his arms to replace you
>You look at him for the last time before stealing Blackfyre, and think of how different things could have been.
>Once you have the sword with you, you stay in between the walls for some time. Your dragon is not in the dragonpit, how do you find him?
>You can't go to the city, you can't risk having the sword stolen from you
>This might be a suicide, this probably is a suicide, but is all you got
>You decide to go to the dragonpit, you'll ride a dragon to find a dragon. The rule has always been: one rider, one dragon, one dragon, one ride. But you are desperate
>When you get to the pit, you wonder who could be the best dragon to ride for the search, Tessarion is here, but only ever rode alongside her, same for Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. Trying to tame an unclaimed dragon is dangerous, and even if you could, Dagahrion may kill them
>But there's one that knows you very well: Vhagar
>You rode on her back when she was Laena's, you were a little lass still, but she remembers you. And you rode her with Aemond last night
>It is better than nothing, and if she ate you, you know she's so big it'd be a quick death
>You pet her, and she gives into your touch
>You keep calming and buttering her up before you get on top. You're used to riding a large dragon, but she's different, every dragon is, you suppose
>You feel sorry for the ruckus caused when you and Vhagar ascended, poor dragonkeepers
>Your running was obviously not silent
>And so the search for Dagahrion begins. You have to find him before Vhagar decides to kick you off her back
>And before any other dragon comes looking for you
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Aita for having a foursome without my partner while in a committed relationship?
I, 18f, am in a relationship with my partner who I will call Mike, 21m. Our relationship started in January when we meet on a hookup sight, and we liked the hookup enough to keep seeing each other and then we developed feelings. I'm from a pretty rural place and therefore the pickings of good men are slim so it felt like I hit the jackpot when I met Mike cause he was funny and didn't pressure me sexually and could actually make me cum.
But as our relationship became more serious I noticed things that were bothering me like how he's hardly on his phone so he doesn't text me back for anywhere from 2 to over 24 hours at a time.
He also in the beginning wasn't very good at communicating which lead me to not knowing what he wants from our relationship. He also wouldn't tell me he couldn't make plans until right before, or even after, the plans were meant to start. This happened often because he doesn't tell his parents that he has other plans when they ask him to do something (he still lives with his parents) and it even happened a couple times with his friends.
This is a slightly big issue to me because I have trauma based abandonment issues and BPD, and I will get upset and have an episode. Obviously it's not his fault I have these episodes and he's not causing them on purpose, but having episodes that often was negatively effecting my mental health.
My best friend Ken and roommate, 18n, and our two other friends, Julian, 18n, and Mac, 20n, had to witness the toll these episodes had on my mental health as I grew more depressed and anxious during the 5 months I allowed this to happen. They continuously encouraged me to either speak to him about his behavior or break up and I ended up talking to him and his behavior seemed to get better. (For context I only can see him about once a week because he has a job with long hours and works on his dad's farm on top of that)
Around this time my friends starting having threesomes together (Mac and Julian are ex fuck buddies and Mac and Ken are engaged) and they kept making jokes about how it should be a foursome/I should join then.
I brought these jokes up to Mike one of the times he was going to hang out with my friends incase made the joke in front of him as i didn't want him to go in unprepared. He said I should just "have sex with them to get the joke to stop" and I was like "??? We agreed to be exclusive, that would be cheating. Also if I wanted them to stop I could just ask" and he was like "yeah I guess but I still think you should just have sex with them. Just do it" I changed the subject cause I couldn't tell if he was joking and it made me uncomfortable.
I told my friends later when we were alone and they told me that was him giving me the go to have sex with them.
So I did, even though I held some reservations that he might have been jokinh. I had a foursome with them, and as I am the photographer of the group, took lots of photos and pictures and even sent the photos and pictures to the groupchat we share so the others could have them.
Then after it ended I started to second guess myself and deleted all the photos from my phone and texted Mike that I really needed to talk to him, like sooner then we usually would (since I had just seen him typically I wouldn't see him until next week). I felt gross like I had cheated, which is something I have always vehemently been against, and betrayed Mike's trust as we're in a committed relationship. I admitted these feelings to my friends and they said it wasn't cheating cause he told me too and even if he hadn't he was still horrible to me and he deserved it.
Only the last part made me feel even worse cause I don't believe anyone deserves to be cheated on.
I ended up telling Mike everything and he told me that it wasnt cheating because I "was basically just a promoted camera man" and that he had told me to do it anyway. But them he started making jokes about it. Like if I asked if he wanted to watch a show, he'd say "I don't watch TV shows with dirty cheaters" or things like "oh yeah, Mac, your other boyfriend" or "yeah i know how close you and Ken are" and just generally seems to get quieter when i bring up those three friends. I would originally think the comments were teasing as he's a playful guy but he started to say it enough that I can't tell if there's actually truth to it and a part of him thinks I'm a cheater, or all of him thinks I'm a cheater and he's lying that he's fine about it to not hurt my feelings/ruin our relationship.
Every time I voice my feelings to my friends (even the ones I didn't have sex with) they tell me that I'm not in the wrong but I feel like I definitely am in the wrong and a cheater, and I think that Mike might feel that way too. So I've come to Tumblr to look for unbiased options on whether or not I am and asshole and a cheater for having a foursome while in a committed relationship?
What are these acronyms?
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moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
hi mum can we get more dr rem PLEASE :3
Always pookie <3
cw: implicit nausea and vomit, no description
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Remus picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” 
The sound of his voice makes you smile even in your sorry state. “Hi, Remus.” 
“Hi.” Something softens in his tone; you like to think he’s smiling too. “I’m not late to pick you up, am I? I’ve only just got home from work.” 
“No, so did I.” You lean your forehead on the cool ceramic of your toilet tank, thanking your past self for having cleaned it just yesterday. “I actually…I’m sorry, I think I’m going to need a raincheck.” 
A pause. “Oh.” You wince at the disappointment in his voice. “That’s too bad. Is everything alright?” 
“Yeah, I think I’ve just caught a bug,” you say. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.” 
“You’re always fun,” Remus replies warmly, and you smile. “Are you not feeling well?” 
“Not great,” you hedge. You’ve been dating Remus long enough to know how he worries, and you don’t want that. “I’ll live, though. Maybe we can meet later in the week?” 
“Or,” he says, low and coaxing, “I could come over now and make you some soup.” 
You almost sigh, it sounds so nice. What you wouldn’t give to have him rub your back, carry you to bed and press a kiss to your brow. But you’re a mess right now, and you’re trying to save him from it. 
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” you say reluctantly. “Anyway, it’s not that kind of sick.” 
“Tell me your symptoms.”
“Ew,” you laugh. “Take me to dinner first, Lupin.”
“Well, I did try,” he says, and you can almost hear his smile through the phone. It catches just as easily as it does in person. “Seriously, love, how do you feel? Do you know what it is?” 
“Not necessarily, but it’s really not bad. I just don’t want to infect you.” 
“I could probably help.”
“But when you got sick I’d feel awful,” you tell him sincerely. “Thank you, but really, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a ring when I’m no longer a biohazard, okay?” 
Remus harrumphs, but when he speaks his voice still crackles with fondness. “Alright.” 
“Thanks. Bye.” 
You hear him echo you as you lower the phone from your ear, setting it on the bathroom floor before following it down. You don’t feel secure enough in your stomach to leave the toilet just yet, so you curl up on the small mat by the shower and succumb to the exhaustion that’s been chasing you since lunchtime. 
~~~
“Oh, sweetheart.” 
You wake to a warm hand on your even warmer shoulder, startling a bit as you pull your face from the rug. Remus is looking down at you with an awful little crease between his brows. 
“Remus?” you ask, just to be sure. 
“Hi,” he says softly. “You didn’t sound this bad over the phone, you know. I’d have rushed if I knew you were about to take a nap on the floor.” 
You blink, trying to clear the fog from your brain. “How’d you get in here?” 
“You showed me the spare key when I took care of your plants, remember?” Remus looks a bit sorry, wedging a hand underneath your ribs to encourage you sitting up. “I did try to call, but I think you must have slept through it.” 
“Oh,” you murmur, getting upright and crossing your legs underneath you awkwardly.
He smiles thinly and sets a hand to your forehead. The gesture feels oddly intimate. You’ve slept with this man, met his friends, shown him where you keep your spare key, and somehow this feels intimate.
Remus makes a terribly lovely cooing sound. You think you might just die right here. 
“You’re burning,” he says worriedly. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 
“Since about lunch,” you admit. 
“Yeah?” He frowns, cupping your face in the basin of his palm. “How’d you fare at work?” 
“I got sick in the bathroom, but then I just finished out the day.” Remus’ frown is starting to look mortifyingly near to a pout. “It wasn’t this bad then, I don’t think. It got worse once I was home.” 
He hums. “Do you know how you caught it?” 
You glance at the toilet, horrified at the sight of your unflushed sick inside. “Some of my coworkers went home sick, but…look, Remus, it was really nice of you to come, but you don’t have to be here.” You say this with your cheek tucked into his palm, soaking up the feeling of his touch. “It’s way too early for you to see me like this.” 
“Oh?” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he keeps his expression curious. “Why’s that?” 
“Because…because.” You try to imbue your tone with some sternness. “It’s the standard progression of things. Peeing together, saying I love you, then you see me when I’m sick.” 
Remus nods, humming pensively. His thumb strokes at your cheek. “You want to pee together before saying I love you? That’s interesting.” 
You feel your face heat, which you didn’t know was even possible at this point. You thought surely you’d maxed out. “I’m serious.” 
“Alright,” he says. Soft, pacifying. “All that notwithstanding, I’m afraid I can’t leave you like this, lovely girl. I’ll avert my eyes if you want me to, but I’m really not too worried about seeing you any way you can be, so I think it might be easier on you if you didn’t worry about it either.” 
You wither. “But I’m gross.” 
He frowns. “You’re not. You’re just not feeling your best right now, and that’s fine. Let me take care of you.” 
You look at him for a few moments, and Remus looks back. His amber stare is steady. Finally, you give in to your more pathetic urges and nod. 
“Alright.” He gives your cheek another tender stroke. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick again now?” 
“No,” you say meekly. It feels weird to discuss these things with him, but Remus acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 
“Perfect. Think you can make it to bed?” 
You definitely can, but Remus still walks you the whole way, one arm around your waist and his attention cautiously on your feet should you stumble. He gets you situated under the covers, forbidding more than one blanket until your fever comes down, and goes back into the bathroom to get the supplies he’d brought with him. 
You hear the toilet flush and cringe, but he comes back out like nothing happened. 
“I wasn’t sure what to bring since you wouldn't tell me what you had on the phone,” there’s a bit of light admonishment to his tone as he sits on the edge of your mattress with a paper bag, “so I brought most of my medicine cabinet. Do you want some anti-nausea, or are you still alright for now?” 
“Yes, please,” you say in a small voice. Remus passes you a cup of water before shaking a pill into his hand. He watches as you take it. 
“You’re going to want to keep taking small sips of that,” he tells you. “It sounds like you’re right and it’s just a stomach bug, so we’ll probably keep you off solid foods for a little while. You just let me know when you’re feeling up to some crackers or something, okay?” 
“Okay,” you echo him. Your heart suddenly feels as warm and tender as if your fever were affecting it, too. You’re enamored with the idea that you could go to sleep, right now, and Remus would still be here to take care of you when you wake up. He’d probably hold your hand if you asked, or read you something, or just sit with you if that was what you wanted. It makes you feel pathetically teary to think of being so cared for. 
Something shifts in Remus’ expression. He looks at you more closely, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. 
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” You swallow. “Just, thanks for coming.”
Remus smiles. “Changing our minds about the standard progression of things, are we?” But before you get a chance to hide under your covers and never come out, he leans forward, kissing your cheek. “Don’t mention it.”
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chuuyasheaven · 7 months
Text
“Goin’ feral !!” — Atsushi Nakajima
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“—It's embarrassing to say the least, he's way to needy and with your scent he's getting even more desperate for you. But once you actually give him consent, he went feral.”
Tags: rough! Atsushi Nakajima / afab! Reader, rough sex, Atsu’s in heat, breeding kink (kinda?), praise kink, pet names, hickeys?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pussy drunk! Atsushi, slight dry humping, kinda? making out, squirting, slight scent kink?, might contain grammar errors, etc.
Notes: Enjoy, I put all my writer–ussy in this. (I didn't really)
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This was weird, why was he experiencing this? For the last two days Atsushi has been way too desperate to be inside you for some reason, he didn't want to drag you into this though, so he tried to stay a bit distant which resulted only into making it even worse. Right now, he was just laying on your shared bed, waiting for it to just pass before you walked in, with an not so pleasant look on your face.
“Why are you ignoring me?”, you asked him, he sat up to look at you. “I’m not really–”, “Yes you are, you barely interacted with me in the last two days. Is something wrong? Is there anything I did wrong?”, Atsushi tried looking for a response, but your scent was distracting him. Taking a deep breath, he did respond to you. “N–no, you didn't do anything, it's me.”, you tilted your head to the side slightly with an confused look on your face. “What do you mean?”, he just let his head sink down a bit before filling you in about his situation.
After telling you everything, you just giggled before talking. “Really? You know, Atsu, you can ask me for help,”, you walked towards him, slowly getting onto the bed. “I’m more than glad to get rid of it.”, now you had an smirk on your lips. Atsushi gulped when you were inches away from his face, your scent strong enough to give him a boner. Before anything else could be said, you were already kissing him, he just gave in. While kissing him, you got onto his lap straddling him.
The kiss kept going until you felt Atsushi’s hips rolling against yours, it felt so good you did the same. After some time you parted with him to breathe, he was already looking flushed and breathing heavily. “More, please. .”, he begged, you undid his belt and pants and see a stain of precum already being formed, was he so affected of your presence? Taking off his boxers, his tip was slightly flushed too with some precum leaking out. “So desperate, hm?”, he just threw his head back after you stroked it a few times. He could've sworn that he would have cum already if you didn't stop. You pushed your panties to the side and got onto his cock, making Atsushi throw his head back in bliss.
You let out a moan because of this feeling, maybe you were a little touch starved too. Anyway, you almost immediately started to roll your hips. After some time you started to bounce a little bit harsher, which made Atsushi go crazy. Your magnificent scent already had him at a chokehold, but this was too much for him— “. . Did you just cum?”, you asked slightly surprised, suddenly you felt your hips moving again, which surprised you again. Atsushi was grabbing onto your hips to move you. “Just. . keep moving, please.”
Yes, you didn't cum but you were getting close, the way Atsushi let his head lay on your shoulder while kissing your collarbone. His groans against your skin did feel good too, just as much as the little hickeys he left. Soon you reached your first orgasm, moaning in bliss, you suddenly get tossed around by Atsushi, now him topping you. “Can I?”, he asked you, getting ready to enter your walls, you nod instantly. As he was inside you again, he thrusted into you quite roughly, since he denied himself for two days his desperation was justified. Atsushi felt way too good to stop now, his hips speeding up now. Your moans got louder as the speed got faster, you never saw him like this, but you found it attractive.
You grabbed his hair gently and pulled him down, until he was laying on your collarbone again. “F–feels so good. .”, you moaned out, which set something in him off. Atsushi felt his second orgasm near, and yours too. “Just keep takin’ me so well, darling, f–fuck.”, Atsushi rarely swore so this turned you on as well, he could tell by you tightening around him. “You’re close, hm?”, you nodded as he got even rougher with his pace, you kissed him while you both came at the same time. Atsushi pulled out, breathing heavily like you, you closed your eyes and sighed before feeling your legs get lifted. You opened your eyes to see Atsushi try another angle, before being able to say anything he was inside again. “I can't resist, you feel too good, baby– oh god. .”, he grunted while fucking you from a new angle.
With your legs around his hips his cock hit new spots which you didn't even know about, but you didn't care, he was making you feel good. But that wasn't even everything, Atsushi used his thumb to circle your clit. This was so overwhelming for you, the only thing you could think of was him, Atsushi. “Am I makin’ you fell good, princess? Are you gonna cum soon?”, he questioned you, to which you nodded again. “You want me to cum inside?”, “S–shit. . please!”, you whined, your eyes slightly getting teary. His thrusts got faster and his circles got rubbed out harsher, you could feel another orgasm cumming (haha), this one felt stronger than the last ones. As Atsushi kept on going, you suddenly squirted, which you actually never did before. Atsushi instantly came right inside you opon seeing that, which felt amazing, he could tell you were spent from this session, so he decided that this was enough. Though he was still inside of you, to not spill anything.
“—You were such a good girl, you deserve your break, darling.”
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You can tell I'm a virgin, right?
SMALL TAGLIST: @miloofc , @medusalovessnakes, @crystalice09 ,@kk-oma !!
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tomlinfonda · 11 months
Text
Inside me there are two wolves.
One who thinks that the writers are either stupid or cruel, and that the finale was so incomprehensibly bad that I shouldn't try to make sense of it. And that I should move on.
The other one is a subtext-and-metaphor-hungry beast that is manically obsessed with finding a reason, at least subtextually, for the incomprehensible mess they made out of these characters, especially Ted, in the finale.
Everyone is so right to point out that Ted in previous episodes would not have acted like this. I think the reason for the sudden regression in his character is Dottie.
That morning, full of smiles, in a good mood, Ted starts his walk to work.
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He cheerfully strolls through the streets, saying hello to his neighbors, making chit-chat with them. He is (as Trent said it in 1x03) out there in the community. He is, more importantly, part of a community. Until suddenly-
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"Mom?"
Dottie's arrival changes everything. Ted gets worse and worse throughout the episode. In the hotel room in Manchester, the football anthem "Blue Moon", with the haunting lyric "You saw me standing alone" plays over Ted's lonesome figure, in the shadows, depressed.
Juxtapose that with his first scene: the lively neighborhood and daylight.
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At the end of the episode, his conversation with his (manipulative) mom hits him deep. He feels immense guilt over not being there for Henry. And he's been torn over this for the entire season.
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His mom, and the way she acts, and the way she manipulates him, push him in the wrong direction: Kansas.
I think Ted has disassociated for most of the finale. But I also think that he is intentionally pushing people away. Maybe he thinks that this will make it easier for him to leave, maybe he thinks that this will make it easier for them to let him go. Maybe he just hates himself so much that he cannot accept their help. Maybe he feels guilty that they're showing him so much love, when he knows he will abandon them.
Either way, he quits. Something that he would not have done, even in season 1. So his regression goes farther than the first episode, deeper into his past. He goes from:
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to having doubts on the plane about leaving without winning the whole fucking thing
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but leaving anyway.
And this is one of the most curious things to me. Rebecca offers to bring Henry to him in England by helping relocate Michelle:
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And yet, he refuses. So, sure, this is about being there for his son. But given the choice between his son with his beloved community, and his son without his beloved community, he chooses the latter.
I've heard the argument that we don't know for sure that Ted doesn't have a support system in Kansas. But from a narrative perspective, it's important that we haven't been shown that hypothetical support system at all. And given that he actually returns to Kansas without the one person who we know supported him before coming to England, it comes across as a terribly isolating situation.
So why would Ted choose to part from his found family, even though bringing his son into that family would be an option? My theory is that he just really fucking hates himself. I think he wants to punish himself, maybe for being away from Henry for so long, maybe for something else. I don't think he believes that he deserves love or even credit for how he helped the club.
I mean, Rebecca and Trent offer him exactly that this episode: credit for what the did for the club.
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And he rejects them both, choosing instead to remove himself from their lives, to erase himself from the narrative.
I think he's lower mentally than we've seen him for a while.
I think he's in his dark forest.
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So the plane departs and then lands. And Ted is back in Kansas, driven through the prosaic, picket-fenced, isolating, depressing American suburbs to the house where Henry and the ex-wife who doesn't love him are waiting for him.
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And the light might be golden, and he might be reunited with his son. But as we close in on the last shot of the show, you can see his smile try to fight the sadness in his eyes and you know.
He's not happy.
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