#hm. getting really off topic here but it is late

[humanimalgam]

this slut has a body now

#hrnnnnng slow going but its going alright #i've drawn this guy once before but only as a shitty mspaint doodle #he's getting quite a glow-up since last time #anyway this oc belongs to my gf but he's a blorbo to me <3 love this freak (he is a complete fucking freak) #but what's the fun in a character that's not even a little freakish. NONE that is what!!! #freaks are just more fun. in fiction and irl i'll be honest #if you're not some kind of deviant freak you're probably not worth knowing in my book #anyway. getting off topic here. i love freaks and i hate normies ewwwwwwww nothing more repulsive than conformity #like what are you? a hive insect? fuck off #bet your parents picked out all your beliefs for you lmaoooo how lame #hm. getting really off topic here but it is late #anyway freak rights. lets just keep on getting weirder everyone <3 #wip #animal.txt #others ocs

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Loser X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: kidnapping, drugging, non-con kissing and touching, stalking, mentions of axe body spray.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It was around lunch time and you were on your way to your university’s canteen. You normally had lunch a little later to avoid the crowds but today you couldn’t hold your hunger in at all and you needed to get something to eat. In doing so the canteen was packed and by the time you had gotten some food all the tables seemed full. You scanned around for a little bit before noticing a small table that only had one person sitting at it. A guy with a small frame and black baggy clothes with messy unkempt hair. Without thinking too much about it you walked over. “Hey sorry to bother, would you mind if I could just sit here and eat?” You asked.

He looked like he jolted a little and looked at you like he'd seen a ghost. “Y-yeah…” Not much of a response, but that didn’t stop you from going ahead and sitting down to start devouring your food. After you were finally satiated you looked over cause you felt like someone was watching you and needless to say, his eyes were glued on you.

“Uh, do I have something on my face?” You asked him. His face whipped away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” You laughed and told him it wasn’t a big deal. “What’s your name anyway? I’m (y/n), majoring in (major).” He raised his head to look at you again. “I’m Lester, I’m a biology major…” “That’s awesome!” You look at the time. “I should probably head out, my next class starts soon. See you around though!” Little did you know that your small act of kindness would come back to haunt you.

A couple of weeks pass and you seem to be seeing Lester more and more around campus. (Totally not because he’s trying to learn your schedule at all.) You don’t pay too much mind to it though considering a new friend is always nice. (As if he’d allow you to just be friends with him.) The two of you exchanged social messaging information which turned into an easy way for Lester to keep tabs on you. (You really should be careful about how you share your information.) You didn’t notice the increase of interaction from Lester, you were too sleep deprived and worried about school to notice which he’s grateful for since it’ll make it easier to make plans. Lester was a patient man, he knows how to make a pay off extra sweet.

You learn a bit more about Lester, even though he has a messy appearance he actually is a relatively neat person. He seemed to shower regularly and his clothes weren’t being reworn, but he only chooses to use axe body spray at his age for some reason. He doesn’t seem to have many friends cause, shocker, he’s an extreme introvert; Which makes you pity him which he fully knows and uses to play into to get your trust. With that trust he invites you over to his house, apparently his parents are in the science field as well and as long as Lester keeps his grades up they’d let him do whatever. The two of you would hang out and study at his place.

Six months had passed in a blink of an eye and the two of you were watching a movie together, it wasn’t that late but you felt extremely sleepy for some reason. The two of you just ate dinner that Lester cooked. “Hm? What’s wrong (y/n)? Are you tired?” “Haha, yeah I don’t know why. Maybe I was more tuckered out with finals than I thought.” “Why don’t you stay over? You’re more than welcome to spend the night.” You didn’t reply to Lester, it was because the sleeping pills he slipped into your drink worked like wonders and you were out like a light. Lester slowly dragged your body to his room and laid you on his bed. Chains were ready for you as he securely bound you to them. He loomed over your sleeping body in his bed, he couldn’t keep the excitement in his pants at bay. He took advantage of your lips and dry humped your leg, imagining what it would be like to finally be able to become one with you. Oh if only you knew how love sickness ran in his family. How that’s how his mom ensnared his dad and how having his ground and alibi covered was a learned family skill. No one will find you and you two will live happily together, forever. <3

Lester <3

#lovesick #yandere #yandere male #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #obsession #male yandere #male yandere x reader #gender neautral reader #gn reader #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere blog #yandere boy #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #x y/n #y/n

[miniwheat77]

Soft. (Protective!Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! Ghost comforting reader, Mentions of SA, violence, I wanted smut to be in this but smut felt wrong for the sweetness, (lemme know if I missed any.)

(Summary): Ghost notices the way reader resists his advances and gets frustrated

I'm combining a few of the asks I got for this, hope you enjoy :) you can find them here and here

Ghost really didn’t mean to seem as persistent as he came across.

It took the both of you many months to begin dating, and many more to be so comfortable around each other and Ghost always tried his best to avoid the topic of sex. Not for any specific reason, but because he knew neither of you were ready for it. But after many months of dating, he’d made a couple advances. He was ready to take the next step with you, and neither of you had talked too much about it.

You either ignored him, or acted oblivious to what he was doing, it was on purpose and even he could tell. He assumed maybe you just weren’t ready but the insecurity got the best of him. Was there something wrong with him? Did you not find him attractive anymore? They got the best of him and before he knew it, he was losing sleep over it. He was a little more aggressive around you lately and you had a feeling why he was. You knew you’d eventually have to come clean about what was going on.

Ghost decided to give it one last try.

He approached as he normally had and was a little more aggressive than he meant to be. Pinning you against a wall and kissing you aggressively. “Simon-“ you tried pushing him off. “S-Simon stop.” You laugh, but he’s not stopping. Your smile falters at his persistence, flashes of what happened to you previously have you panicking slightly. “Simon enough!” You push him off. He groans out and the way he’s acting makes you uncomfortable. “Simon what the hell is going on?” You breathe. “Why won’t you have sex with me Hm? Is there something wrong?” He asks frustratedly. “Simon- what the hell?” You breathe. “Whatever Y/N.” He shakes his head, walking off. A sigh leaves your lips as he walks away.

You felt horrible afterward. You understood him wanting to take the next step with you, and understood him wanting to advance in your relationship this way.

Simon felt horrible. He’d pushed himself onto you way more than he initially anticipated, his forceful side got the best of him and he had made you uncomfortable. He needed to seek you out and apologize for his actions, but another part of him was hurt that you wouldn’t show any kind of initiative to further your relationship in that regard. Or at least give him some kind of explanation as to why you didn’t want it. He deserves to know. You fight against your better judgment and decide to give him some time to calm down, maybe it's a bad idea, maybe it isn't even meant for him, maybe it's meant for you. Time to think about what to say, time to relax for what you're going to have to tell him.

The following day, first thing in the morning, you're sneaking out to his room like you had done so many times in the past, walking right into his room. He's still asleep, and you sit down on the edge of his bed near him. He flinches awake as he feels the weight of you sitting next to him. Relaxing when he realizes it's you. He decides against saying anything, and instead pulls you into him. You lay next to him, sighing. "I'm sorry for yesterday Y/N." He breathes. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable and I'm sorry for being so forceful. I just wanted to take that next step with you." He sighs. "It's okay Simon." You breathe. "Is it something with me?" He asks. "What do you mean?" You look at him confused. "Do.. you not trust me? Or... find me attractive in that way?" He asks. "No. No Simon. Jeez." You breathe. "It's not that at all. Just.. Give me a minute to explain myself and It'll make sense okay?" You say. He nods his head. "I think you're stunning Simon. I think you are absolutely perfect in every single way and I should have opened up to you about this beforehand." You sigh.

"When I was younger, I had this boyfriend and he wasn't too kind." You breathe.

You go into more detail, voice breaking slightly as you explain everything he had done to you. The physical, psychological, sexual abuse.

By the time you finish, Ghost wants to hunt him down personally and torture him for what he had done to you. You were so nice and caring and patient with him. Finding out what you had told him has him fuming. You didn't deserve that. "The reason I didn't want to tell you is because I know how much you have gone through and I didn't want to add anymore to your full plate. I didn't want you to look at me differently." You sigh. He shakes his head. "Y/N." He breathes. "I love you." He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. "I love you and no matter what you've been through, no matter what you have done, no matter what has happened, nothing will change that." He breathes. "You are my everything. I would die for you, I've killed for you. And that bastard that put his hands on you deserves nothing more than my face being the last thing he ever sees." He sighs. He presses his lips to yours, trying to stop the tears that are running down your cheeks. "I wish you would have told me sooner sweetheart. I'm so sorry for pushing you so much." You laugh, trying to conceal the sobs that so desperately want to come out. "Simon, I know you'd never hurt me like that. I'm sorry for not telling you." You breathe.

He takes a deep breath. "I've had some bad stuff happen to me too." He looks down. "On a couple of the missions I've been on, I've been tortured and abused in a lot of the same ways." He sighs. You look up at him, eyes watering even more. You pull him into a tight hug. "I love you so much Simon. You didn't deserve that." He laughs. "Nobody deserves that. But you have to work through it. You don't have any other choices."

You lay there next to him for the next couple of hours. Not caring if you get caught in his room. The both of you need this. Need to relax into each other. Finding out that Simon had gone through similar experiences, it hurts you. Despite all of that, he still trusted you enough to want that passion with you and you had resisted his advances. He would never force you. He didn't want you to feel obligated. He wanted you to be completely comfortable around him.

-

You notice after having that conversation, he becomes more protective of you. Pulling you behind him when men approach you, staring them down, the slightest interaction had him stepping in front of you. It intrigued you a lot.

When you bring Simon home with you to meet your family, it's hard for him. He doesn’t wear his mask and he’s skeptical. But it goes well. Your family loves him and welcome him into their home with open arms. Simon is awkward and nervous, but he loves it.

“This is where I grew up, this was one of my first jobs.” You smile. Pulling into the familiar bowling alley. He laughs. He has his mask on, and he’s more comfortable now. “You go inside, I’m going to smoke.” He smiles. “I want to stay with you.” You follow him. You both walk to the end of the sidewalk surrounding the building to the furthest side. There’s a lot of old leaves built up and it’s a common place for people to smoke. A car full of guys pulls up, blaring music. You roll your eyes. You see all of them pile out of the car, making their way up to the doors nearest to you and Simon. “Simon-“ you grasp his hand. He sees a man following the group inside, noticing you. He says something to them, before stepping back and making his way toward the both of you. Simon pushes you behind him, and you stare at the ground. Hoping he’ll go away. “Hey.” The guy smiles. Simon stays quiet. “Can I help you?” He asks. “Oh, no. But she can.” Simon blows a puff of smoke through his mask. “Yeah? Who are you?”

When he says his name, Simon clenches his free hand together. This was the guy who had put his hands on you. “Who are you?” He asks Simon. Simon laughs, ignoring him. “I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing with her anyways? Don’t you know she’s in a relationship?” He crosses his arms. Simon is trying to hold himself back for your sake and your sake only. But he’s pushing his buttons. Simon tosses the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. “Yeah. She’s in a relationship with me.” The guy rolls his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding. What’s with the stupid mask anyways?” Simon is fuming beneath it. “Just leave us alone.” You finally speak up. “I wasn’t talking to you, bitch.” He seethes, Simon takes a step forward quickly, grasping him by his throat and slamming him up against the concrete wall, making you flinch. Simon manhandles him like he weighs nothing. “Don’t talk to her like that.” He growls. “In the military they call me Lieutenant Ghost. I kill people like you for fun.” He breathes. He’s cutting off his air. “I’d kill you if she wasn’t watching me right now, because I respect her. If you come around her ever again, my face will be the last thing you ever fucking see. Am I understood?” He seethes. He nods his head. Simon draws back, knocking his fist into his face, one hard punch from the mountain of a man had him falling to the ground holding his face. Simon crouches down. “I pick my teeth with scum bags like you.”

He stands back up. “Come on sweetheart.” Ghost reaches a hand out to you, and you take it.

Simon doesn’t get to see the bowling alley, but he sees you pacing around inside of your apartment. You’re pacing back and fourth, something important clearly on your mind. He waits patiently for you to calm down, waiting for any sort of sign that you’re okay. “Y/N.. I’m sorry if I was too rough-“ you raise your hand, making him stop talking. He does immediately. Sitting down on your couch.

You wondered how the hell you managed to find someone like Simon. What on earth you had done to deserve him, the way he defends you. Seeing him put hands on that guy for you has your insides scrambling. You finally turn and look at him, and his eyes are full of remorse. Without thinking, you lean down, pressing your lips to his. He jumps a little but relaxes when he realizes what you were doing. You climb into his lap and he sighs into your lips, feeling you on him is some kind of relief he didn't know he needed to feel. "I can't believe you hit him." Are the first words out of your mouth when you pull apart. He laughs. "I wanted to do worse but.. didn't figure Price would appreciate that." He laughs. You relax into him. "I'd do anything for you." He brushes a hand through your hair. “I’d do anything for you too Simon. I just.. god. You’re so…” you think for a second.

“Hot.” The laugh that leaves Simons mouth is something you could listen to on repeat. “You’re hot too.” He breathes. Moving your chin to make you look at him. “Nobody touches you. Ever. Or they’ll deal with me.” He looks at you. “Am I understood?”

“Understood.”

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

[melanthaeunomia]

hiii! i’m new to this blog but i see you’ve got a free week (SO jealous) so i was wonderinggg if you’d be willing to do a leo x fem reader where they’re on a quest/mission or something undercover and have to make out to keep their cover? sorta like that one b99 scene with jake and amy ig😅

"Just to blend in?" -Leo Valdez x Reader (Friends to Lovers?)

A/N : Hi dear!, thank you so much for your request, to be honest i was kinda procrastinating a bit on writing this but! i just got new nails so i felt the motivation kick in y'know, so sorry if this is a bit late, I like the concept!, but the scene is not really like the B99 cause i thought this would suit the undercover quest more but its sort of the same concept!.

synopsis : (the request sent)

Word count : 1.7k+ (idk why its so long either dont ask me)

Riordan verse Masterlist⚜️

You groaned rolling your head back as the aggravating and irritating music hit your ears, an ogre was playing make believe DJ, you can hear its gruesome nails scratching on the pad. You accompanied Leo on a quest to locate an enchanted item used in antient time to help Forge weapon and armors, Both of you settled in the corner of the night club, You leaned back on one of those wrapped cocktail tables, trying to cover Leo behind you, who was working on a machine in order to locate the said item. "Where in the hell did you get these clothes!" You whined tugging on your unnecessary revealing clothes, "Hey!, It took a lot of energy to charm the store lady, Besides, We're in a nightclub atleast we blend in." He rolled his eyes wiping the sweat building on his forehead with the sleeves of his suit, You scoffed, gaze following a few monsters who danced around with the pitiful drunken humans, Particularly on one Laistrygonian Giant who hovered over a woman his hands dropped down to grip the womans hip, licking his lips with hunger in his eyes You wondered what the humans were seeing, Are the Monsters hot with the mist? (wait we're getting off topic). You nudge leo "Are you done?" You hummed, turning back to face him "Hm?, not yet, just needs a few changes" He fiddled around with the wires on the machine, You turned your head back, Blood turning blue when you noticed the Laistrygonian was looking right back at you as its sharp teeth bit into the drunken woman's neck who was squirming around, everyone around them continued dancing as if it was a normal thing, Your eyes widened as The giant glared at you, and looked at the DJ with a nod

"Leo, Leo!, Hurry up, I think-" You tapped leo's shoulder aggressively keeping an eyecontact with the Giant, "Hold on!, I'm Don-" The music became louder, Covering the stomps of the giant walking over to the both of you with furrowed brows. You hurriedly grabbed leo's sleeve, dragging him away making him stumble over a few people "Hey!" a drunk dude grumbled "Sorry!" leo screeched, You dragged leo over to a corridor which was fortunately empty, The both of you panting "You almost made me drop the machine!" He groaned settling down on the floor breathing heavily, “yeah?, would you rather to have died?” You gently hit him in the head “that was unnecessary” a overly dramatic pout covered his face “yes but it was well deserved.” You rolled your eyes snatching the metal device from his hand, a red blinking button on it "Its somewhere here" He hovered behind you, "I know idiot, Look out for monsters" You waved the machine out in the air to try and get the blinking to stop, "You're doing it wrong!" Leo tried to snatch it away from you "I know how to do-" The both of you fought over who gets to use the machine arms intertwined as he kept trying to snatch it back, Until both of your attention was grabbed by the Giant who was all the way at the end of the corridor "Warning, Tall angry dude is coming here!!" "Thanks for stating the obvious, idiot!!" then the Red button finally settled when the giant was just about to strike "Follow me!" You ran towards the door where the machine was pointing to, leo followed "Lock it hurry!" A loud thud could be heard from outside and the giant muttering to themselves "Where do we go now?" leo asked, inside the room were tons of doors, You waved the machine trying to get signal, a loud tugging on the previous door behind could be heard "Just hide!" You grabbed him shoving him in a random room, The room was dimly lit, stairs going down "This is a bad idea!" "What makes you think theres not more monsters there?" He stammered "Just-" You were thinking of a retort but you knew he was right, You hesitated before shrugging him off. "You're really stubborn y'know, Hey!" Leo groaned yet still followed you down the stairs.

The seemingly old stairs creaked under yours and leo's weight, carefully listening for any hits of a monster nearby, The faint noise of.. moaning? could be heard, growing louder as the both of you walk further down the stairs "What the hell?" You cursed under your breath near a laugh, tugging leo's shirt forcing him to keep a straight face so he doesnt attract attention from whoever was there below. Soon enough You were in a wine cellar, with bunch of drunk and horny teenagers who doesnt look a day over 17, there were 5 pairs of couples all scattered throughout the room practically eating each others faces off, "You've got to be kidding me.." You slammed your face, Leo couldn't help but snicker behind "A make out spot hah!" You glared at him forcing your way into the end of the wine cellar, There was no point in being quiet or sneaky though, all those people there were too busy fulfilling their.. Fantasies... "we should do that sometimes" Leo smirked, making you cough, Cheeks growing red and you turned to look at him trying to keep an intimidating face as leo made his hands do a kissy kiss, You rolled your eyes, cheeks a pinkish hue then you "Accidentally" gave him a quick jab to the stomach "Oh oops" "Owh!" he said clutching his stomach, frowning up at you, You examined the wine cellar trying to find any exit but there was none… or as far as you could tell “theres no exit.” You mumbled checking the gaps of the overfilled shelves if there was a way to get out “The monster is close, we have to hide somewhere.” You gave leo back the machine so he could try and figure out whats wrong with it “adam!..” a girl groaned from across the room followed by a growl of a guy “I swear to hades, I’m actually gonna puke” Leo couldn’t contain his laughter anymore

“Dont be dramati-“ Just like that you were cut off, the both of you could hear a door breaking open from upstairs, it wouldn’t take long for the giant to come to the room, the both of you looked at each other and hurriedly searched every corner of the wine cellar for a hope of escaping “nothing!” Leo mouthed from across the room trying to ignore the couple that had their faces basically attached to eachother “Come here! I think i found something!” you mouthed back and he hurriedly ran right back over to you “i think-“ Then a loud crash from the entrance above could be heard all the way to the room below, somehow didn’t attract the humans in the same room, the both of you looked at each other with a knowing look when the old stairs creaked again, the giant was headed down muttering to himself “tsk tsk tsk.” both of you looked at each other and back at the stairs, and you could see a hint of a musty big foot.. both of your eyes widened could no longer speak, "I have a plan.." You said hesitantly cheeks turning red, You could see the giants hip, revealing more of its body as it goes down

"What is it-" Leo was soon cut of when you pulled him by his tie and softly kissed him, You didn't expect the kiss to be soo... passionate?, You could see his eyes widen but went along with you and kissed you back, a hint of pink in his sunkissed skin, You could smell Leo's cologne up close.. It was so intoxicating(in a good way) You guided leo's hands to your waist trying to make it seem more believable, The both of you were clearly flustered, you just hoped that Leo's cologne was strong enough to hide the scent of the both of you, you tried to to focus back on the monster and trying not to melt into the kiss, from the corner of your eye you could see the giant peaking under the stairs examining the room and hissed "Tsk", Suddenly Leo pushed you back into the wall kissing you in a slow and playful rhythm, You were sure you were gonna explode any minute now from embarrassment "Shh, eyes on me." He whispered before taking another kiss, You couldn't tell what was real and what was not anymore, You thought he wanted you to keep your eyes on his so that the giant doesn't notice, right?, I mean this was your plan.. Why are you so flustered right now??? "Its just for the mission" You think to yourself, a hint of vulnerability in your heart, But you snapped back to reality when you felt his heart beating fast through his suit, he still kept tight grip on your waist, his other hand found its way to cup your cheeks, finally after what felt like minutes the giant finally went away with a huff, so the plan did work!, now it was time to stop kissing right?, But leo still hasn't noticed that the giant was long gone, and was still softly kissing you, You pulled away slowly, Your eyes kept in contact as you pulled away with a breathy gasped "Uhm.." "Ehem.." The both of you were flustered, You pulled away from his grasp acting like nothing happened, trying to act busy examining the room again for a way out, but your mind could't help but replay the moment in your head, He cant lie and sat he didn't miss the way your lips parted just to kiss him back. Wait, what are you guys thinking? it was just for the mission, nothing else, no feelings attached, right? "Can we atleast talk about it-" Leo mumbled behind you, cheeks flushed, you tried to ignore him checking the shelves once more before finding a hidden button hidden underneath the off brand wine "It was just to blend in.." You finally answered, remembering the words he spoke to you earlier, still feeling embarrassed, not like you can confess when you're in a life and death situation, but still those words hit like a dagger to his heart, Yours especially, denying your feelings for him, oh if only you knew how whipped this boy was for you, There was a hint of disappointment mixed with embarrassment in the air, You couldn't even hold proper eye contact with him without the memories appearing in your mind, and the smell of his cologne lingering in the air. "C'mon, lets get out of here."

Requests!⚜️ Riordan verse Masterlist⚜️

#kept you guys waiting for long enough so here #you go #percy jackson #luke castellan #fanfiction #pjo #leo valdez #pjo fandom #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #jason grace #percy pjo #leo valdez x reader #leo pjo #charles beckendorf x reader #charles beckendorf #percabeth #percy jackson x reader #percy series #percy and grover #percy and annabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #luke castellan drabble #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez drabble

[d10nyx]

TALK TOO MUCH - WELT YANG

ft. welt yang x fem!reader

a/n: was really struggling with this and hate it - want to preface it by saying this is unfinished. it's just a first draft, but people (person) still wanted me to post it, even if i'm not gonna end up fully finishing it :/ the ending is rushed, but it technically does have an end. hope you like it regardless. title from coin song of the same name

cw: 18+ content, welt rambling, hand holding, kissing, just really fluffy smut tbh, welt is a lil subby and shy, age gap, p in v, creampie

word count: 1.4k words

You certainly were a curious thing. Welt had gotten used to those on the Astral Express treating him as their personal encyclopedia, although he hadn't quite expected you to be so adamant to get him to info dump on every little thing once you'd discovered it - not that he didn't like it. He did pride himself on his intelligence, and there were much worse ways to spend his time than having a nice conversation with someone like you, even if you're the only one that can make his heart race when you called him Mr. Yang.

He's not surprised at all when he hears a knock on his door at night. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up and gazes towards the entrance of his room, spotting you slowly opening it, looking all sheepish as you slide your way into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Ah, good evening. Isn't it a bit late for you to expect me to go on one of my tangents?" He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Sorry, I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe you could talk to me about something for a while? If you don't mind, of course.” You say softly, offering him a small smile as you take a step further into his room, hoping he agrees.

"Oh, you want me to start blathering, hm?" He replies, meeting your gaze and smiling in return. He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting you over to sit. You offer your thanks as you take a seat, leaning back against the headboard. “Well. If you're seeking a calming influence, then I suppose you've come to the right place." 

You smile at his words, tilting your head to look at him as you settle comfortably on the bed. "Your blathering just so happens to be my favorite thing to listen to.”

Welt raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly as you admit that you really do like listening to him ramble on. You always bring a feeling of warmth in his chest that he has not felt in a long while. Your company is certainly becoming one of his favorite things on the express.

"And here I thought you were just humoring me to keep me from being lonely." He says, but a smile curls the corner of his mouth regardless. "You're in luck, though. I'll chat your ear off for as long as you need me to.”

And so he does. He starts talking about any topics that come to mind, getting lost in his thoughts as he does so. He's not sure how long he's talking for, but you haven't stopped him yet, so he can only hope he isn't bothering you.

“The starskiffs of the Cloud Knights would head to planets that went out of contact to seek information, while the Xianzhou Ten-Lords Commission remains-”  Welt trails off as he feels your head loll against his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. The smile hasn't left his face the entire time, but it only grows at the sight of you lying against his shoulders, eyes half-shut. His hand moves to the back of your head to keep you secure, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I thought you couldn't sleep, dear. Are my words really so boring to you?”

You shake your head softly, peering up at him through your lashes as he speaks. Your expression is soft, lingering on his eyes for a moment before they drop down to his lips, just for a second. “You're not boring. Not at all. You just make me feel comfortable. Relaxed.” 

He nods softly, but he's barely focusing on your words. He can hardly stand being this close to you, and it was impossible to ignore the way your gaze settled on his mouth, even if only for a moment. He wanted you so, so badly.

He's about to open his mouth to say something, anything to distract him enough to stop him from doing anything stupid, until you beat him to it. “I want to kiss you. Please, can I?”

The mere thought of it sends his heart pounding so fast it hurts. He's so old, at least, far older than you. You're still so young, so full of life - how could he expect he'd ever have a chance with you?

Welt nods, his eyes closing momentarily. "Please, be gentle. It... it has been a long time." With his words spoken, he brings his lips to meet yours.

Your lips eagerly meet his once your eyes have fluttered shut, greedily taking in everything he's giving you. His lips are just as soft as you'd imagined, pressing firmly against yours. A small noise escapes him when you cup his cheek, drawing him further towards you.

He leans into the kiss, his hands squeezing you tighter. His lips are warm and gentle, his tongue peeking out gently to prod at your lips until you part them, before it carefully slides into your mouth. His free hand trails down your back to your ass, squeezing it lightly as he deepens the kiss once more, tugging you onto his lap. 

“Welt…” You murmur between kisses, brushing his bangs back with your free hand as you straddle him, pressing your body against his. Welt. Not Mr. Yang. The sound of that has him smiling into the kiss, tugging you a little closer. 

He's still smiling when you pull away from the kiss, the corner of his eyes crinkling as warmth floods his features. Your warm body pressed against his is enough to have him craving more, his heart pounding against his chest. 

“I… I want you. Please.” You breathe out, resting your forehead against his, your thumbs grazing his cheekbones. You slowly roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. You can't help but feel a surge of pride as it instantly fills out, causing Welt to let out an almost pained groan.

"Please, my dear..." He starts, his voice soft and tender, but hoarse with arousal. "Do be patient with me, alright? I... I do not want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn't disappoint me. God, I've wanted you for so long. Wasn't it obvious?” You breathe out, lips pressing against his jaw over and over again.  His body is now trembling in your hands, your lips sending his senses into overload. His groan deepens, and he lets out the subtlest of moans when your hips roll to grind down on his lap.

"I-I didn't know that at all..." His breathing is short and shallow now, every moment feeling like the first time you've kissed him. "Who would've known that I'd be so popular with you?”

“I'll be careful, okay?” You murmur against the skin of his neck, nipping and licking at the skin as you paw desperately at his clothes, tugging them off until you're both laid bare on his bed. His pale skin is marred with scars, his muscles slightly toned but covered by a soft layer of flesh.

You sink down slowly onto his length, taking him inch by inch. Welt lets out an involuntary gasp, his hips twitching towards you instinctively to try and drive himself further into your wet cunt. His hand reaches out to grab yours, squeezing it tightly as you begin to build a steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your free hand shifts to thread through his hair, yanking gently on the strands.

“I care for you, ah, very deeply, you know?” He said through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in short pants. It had been far too long, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stave off his orgasm anymore. “I want… I want to make you feel good, too.”

He does his best to ignore the tightening of his stomach, whimpering softly as he feels the coil snap, flooding you with rope after rope of his cum. His free hand presses against your mound, his thumb hastily swiping back and forth over your clit until you're cumming, clenching around his over-sensitive cock until he's gasping your name.

It takes a moment for him to calm down, to catch his breath - but when he does, he's beaming at you, a shimmer in his eyes that he'd long lost returning. “That was perfect, my dear. You're perfect.”

#welt yang x reader #welt yang x you #welt yang smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut

[seullovesme]

slow dancing in the dark » bae irene

pairing ⥬ joohyun x reader

genre ⥬ angst (fluff + smut)

summary ⥬ on her date, joohyun comes to the realization that there's nobody that she wants other than you. hopefully, she's not too late.

warnings ⥬ dom reader, sub irene, oral (idol receiving)

WC ⥬ 5.5k

part 1 | part 2

joohyun watched junmyeon's lips move as he talked on and on about his business deals at work. she would say she was listening to him, but she knows better than to lie. to be completely honest, her mind was in a different place.

this date was way different than the first.

their first date had felt so much more easygoing and fun, but only now she could tell the romance was missing. it felt like he was only talking about himself. she adjusted her hair and her dress, feeling oddly uncomfortable. this is not the same sweet charming guy she talked over phone with, and she was starting to see through his facade.

she was thinking of inviting you to join them earlier, before she had left, but obviously she wasn't going to make you tag along on their date because she didn't want you to actually meet him until they were officially dating like she had done with her other relationships. seeking your approval was always her number one priority because you knew her more than she did herself, and you were a little protective. nevertheless, you always closely examined each guy she brought to you, making sure that they had good intentions, checking if she had misjudged their motives. you were like the shield to her warrior.

maybe that's why she felt a little more awkward, or uncomfortable. she knew your presence made her feel safer and she was starting to feel uneasy with the man, sensing that he was slowly getting cockier and more rude as time passed. you never made her feel like this, never made her feel so little or inferior. clearly, he was trying to do that by flaunting big business words and bringing up his famous clients.

she knows that if you were here, you would've set him straight and told him off for making her feel upset. she blushed as she thought about you defending her like you usually did, always being straightforward and scolding someone if they even dared to hurt her. you were always the one to protect her, so of course she would've wanted you here tonight. she also would've enjoyed the dinner more if she could hear you talk about something dumb rather than this snooze-fest of a topic.

she also thought about whether you did want to come and were just afraid to ask. she's brought you on dates before, usually when she meets up with someone she doesn't know well. though, those relationships never lasted, they always ended it because they "knew her heart belonged to someone else".. anyway, you usually did everything together so it wasn't that odd for that to be the case. you did look quite down when you left her place.

"joohyun? you okay?" startled, she was brought back into the moment when she heard him.

joohyun locked eyes with the man in front of her, "hm? yeah i'm fine, why do you ask?" she put on a forced smile, trying to pretend like she wasn't ignoring his rambles.

he inspected her face. "it didn't look like you were really listening." because she really wasn't. this entire time she had been trying to figure out why this date was just boring. she hated to admit it, but this was not what she expected the date to be like. she thought it would be like the movies where she'd come to the conclusion that she had finally found her soulmate.

she could tell that he wasn't anywhere near to having that title. she needed a way out of this, any second longer hearing about how his business clients tried to finesse him and she may go crazy. "junmyeon, you're a good person but i really can't sit here and waste your time." she sighed at his shocked face, his ego clearly damaged. "i don't think this is working out for me."

"what? wait hyun—"

"don't call me that, there's only one person who's allowed to call me that." she said sternly. his eyebrows shifted and he wore an upset expression, but she didn't care. that was the nickname you gave her, so she never allowed anyone but you to call her that. not even her parents. it ticked her that he did, she always made sure that the precious nickname was reserved for you.

"joohyun," he corrected himself, "can't you just give me a chance? for me, this date has been great and i think ending things here would be stupid! i'm really the perfect boyfriend for you." he pleaded before reaching for her hand, but she dodged it, scoffing at his childish behavior.

she begins gathering her belongings, trying so hard to not roll her eyes at him. "who are you to decide what the 'perfect boyfriend' is for me? maybe i'm not wasting your time but rather my own." she stood up, looking down on him like he was scum.

he clicked his tongue in annoyance. "should've known a girl like you was only good for her looks." he muttered under his breath and leaned back in his chair.

she's fuming. "don't call me or contact me, or else." joohyun took her bag off the chair and began to speed walk away.

"or else what? you're going to get your loyal puppy you call your best friend to come and fight me?" that made her pause and she could hear him getting closer as he followed. "she'd probably do whatever you command her to. after all, she clearly just wants to get in your pants just like the rest of us."

a slap echoes in the now silent restaurant.

everyone watched as joohyun struck junmyeon right across the face, the sound of her hyperventilating and a couple of murmurs the only audible noises to her. she was mad, livid even.

"it is not your business what y/n does, nor is it okay for you to judge her like you know anything about her. you must have some nerve to think everyone is as much of an asshole as you. i've known her for years. i've been her best friend for years, and i've seen every side of her. i'll decide what her intentions are with me." junmyeon held his hand right over the cheek she slapped, bewildered by how hard she hit and how defensive she was of you. she muttered some other insults under her breath as she collected herself.

she took a deep breath and looked around, realizing that everyone was looking at the two of them. she felt a little embarrassed, not about defending you, but because she was disturbing the innocent bystanders who were just enjoying their dinners. she gave a small bow to apologize for making a scene, and glared at the man who was still standing there not saying anything.

she needed to leave asap. she felt so angry that she wanted to cry, so upset that she got involved with someone like this. at times like this, your consolation was all she needed to make the anger dissipate. "once again, don't try to contact me." joohyun made clear before storming off.

the moment she reached home, she took off her heels, switching them with house slippers, and threw her purse onto her counter after she got her phone from inside of it. she called her only pinned contact and waited to hear your voice.

instead, she heard her own voice in the form of a custom voicemail, the same one she made for you when you both were still in high school. "hello! if you are trying to reach y/n, she can't pick up the phone probably because she's too lazy to... anyway leave a voicemail or call again later!" why was it sending her straight to voicemail? joohyun was confused because you would always wait for her call, especially if you knew she was going out with someone in case of an emergency. it wasn't like her calling you was out of the blue, it was a regular thing. she could even recall the days you stayed up all night, saying you couldn't sleep because she didn't call.

she called once more and ended up with the same outcome. at this point she was already extremely upset, mostly with what went down at the date, and she wanted your comfort. she grabbed her keys and decided she would just go to you. either way, she wanted your presence, no, she needed it. it was like an urge that she could just not brush off, she needed to talk to you. without changing into her shoes or even changing her outfit, she got into her car and drove off.

once she reached your street, the first thing she noticed was that your car wasn't in your driveway. when she typed in your passcode to your door, she also noticed your shoes were also missing. usually when she came over, she would scold you for leaving your shoes all over the place as she put them away.

but this time, there weren't any shoes for her to pick up.

where could you have possibly been at 9 pm? the fact that you were more of a homebody made it even more odd.

joohyun went to your bedroom to lay on your bed, planning on just waiting for you to return. minutes that felt like hours passed and she felt herself nodding off, your comforting scent on your pillow lulling her to sleep. she was out cold by 11, still in her red dress as she didn't bother changing because she thought you'd be back sooner. otherwise, she would've just slipped into one of your baggy tees.

but as the sun rose and shone through the window of your room, you were still nowhere to be found. she shot up in a daze, looking around to see any trace of your return. nothing. you were still missing and she was starting to get nervous.

joohyun opened her phone and tried your number again, the same outcome. she called your parents, thinking it was probably the only place you would have been overnight, but even they said they had no clue where you were and that you weren't answering their calls either. joohyun apologized for calling so early in the morning and it was probably nothing to worry about, hanging up. she didn't want to drag them in and make them worried too, ultimately deciding to search for you on her own.

she was out of ideas, she had no idea where you were and joohyun was sick to her stomach just thinking about what dangers you could be in. you could be lying dead on the floor for all she knew. she curled up in your sheets and snuggled close to your pillow again, seeking comfort in it by hugging it and smelling it, imagining it was you. praying you were safe, she took a nap despite having just woken up.

five days had passed and joohyun was still in your bed. she only ever got up to cook something to eat using what you had, which was mainly instant foods because you relied on joohyun as she loved to cook you your favorites. when she met your mom for the first time when you were younger and she learned about all of your favorite dishes, she promised that she'd make all of them for you even if you grew up and learned how to cook on your own.

great. now she was crying again, it's like she was reminiscing memories of someone dead. she hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed. her worries got the best of her and she was not only worried now but also scared. it had been almost a week and there was still no sign of you anywhere, on your socials, your dms, nowhere. she felt like she was dying not being able to do anything but wait in your home.

she already called the people she knew and they didn't know, called your favorite places to go and they couldn't recall you ever showing up, and she didn't know what to do other than wait. was she supposed to report you as a missing person? joohyun was so lost, not knowing what to do. she sniffled as her tear ducts were completely drained and a wave of sleepiness hit her like a truck. your pillow was decorated by her tear stains and she just hugged it closer, wishing you would just send her a message that you were okay.

she fell into a deep slumber as it felt like the only thing she knew how to do in this state of mind. not even the sound of the front door being opened woke her.

when you had returned, you spotted joohyun's car in your driveway almost instantly having seen it so many times. what was she doing at your place? why wasn't she out with her boyfriend?

you quietly entered through the main entrance. even if it was your house and you could've come in as loud as you wanted, you wanted to avoid startling your sensitive best friend, assuming she was somewhere in here. there, you were at it again, unconsciously caring for the girl who belonged to another. reality sucked and you felt embarrassed that you cared so much when she didn't reciprocate your feelings after all.

the house was dead silent so with soft footsteps, you walked around in search of joohyun. as you passed the hall leading to your bedroom, you noticed how the door was wide open when you remembered shutting it when you left. for a second, you thought about the possibility that she had brought him to your house, but she knew you rarely let people into your house, let alone a total stranger.

you peered through the open door and saw a joohyun sized lump in your bedsheets with one of your pillows missing. silently, you fought the urge to just jump on top of her and throw away the five days of your friend's "therapy sessions" (you just cried on their couch and explained everything in incoherent words). you were supposed to be working on moving on, but seeing her again made it feel impossible.

you approached her as quietly as possible as she was quite the light sleeper, sitting on the empty space beside her. you gently peeled the blanket from her face, praying you won't be stepping over any new boundaries. she was just as pretty as you thought she was, but her eyes were puffy and a little red and there were faint tear streaks on her cheeks. you found your missing pillow, but it was stained with tears as well. not only that, but joohyun was still wearing that red dress she looked so beautiful in. that was what she was wearing when you last saw her though..?

before you put the puzzle pieces together, joohyun began stir awake. she felt the bed had sunken into and turned around to see you sitting there with a confused look. she stared at you blankly for a moment. "hyun?" it took a second for her to process that you were finally home and when she did, she launched herself at you, wrapping her arms tightly around your torso. you were taken aback by the force of her tight embrace, but you melted in her arms, rubbing her back as she started to cry into your shirt.

"you're back.." she mumbled into the fabric, inhaling your natural scent mixed with the scent of fresh laundry.

in a sudden burst, she put both her hands on your chest and shoved you back, forcing you to get up off the bed and stand as her breathing got heavier. her sweet expression quickly switches to an angry one and you are so confused by the change in her demeanor. you try to get closer to her given the distance she made, but she moves farther away on your bed.

shit, you should've known you were getting too cozy when she's already taken. you've gone and made her uncomfortable. nice one, dummy.

"hyun, i'm.. i'm s–"

"how could you..?" joohyun asked, her voice quivering as her eyes brim with tears. you felt a tightening sensation in your chest at the sight of the distressed girl. and to even think that you had hurt her when you worked so hard to protect her heart from all pain.

"hyun, i'm sorry. i–i truly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i was just thinking about myself."

she furrowed her brows. "what?"

"there's obviously a line and i didn't mean to overstep it, nor did i mean to disrespect junmyeon. i was just so used to our usual skin-ship that i wasn't thinking about it" once you say that, joohyun begins seething.

"are you stupid?! that's not the problem!" she blows up. "the problem here is that you decided to leave out of nowhere without even calling me or messaging me once! i called everyone, even your parents!! and i felt so hopeless not knowing what to do."

she had it wrong, you didn't think it was going to be this hard on her. you just wanted to fix yourself and heal your broken heart. "hyun, i wasn't–"

"i was here panicking when you were probably frolicking around, partying with other people, enjoying yourself. you just disappeared and i was worried.. i was so worried." the tears spill over, and she's now a crying mess. the gears in your head went into overdrive trying to understand her. she thought you were out having a blast, being a party animal? you..?

now you're upset. "me? 'frolicking around'? what, you think i was out clubbing or going to bars, doing something fun?" you asked with a mad tone.

the switch in your vocal tone caught her off guard."yes.."

you scoff. "seriously? that's not even close to what i was doing, but okay, whatever you want to believe joohyun." you ran your hand through your hair, sighing deeply, trying not to get mad with the way she accused you of something stupid. she was clearly not okay and you weren't going to get upset at her. "i'm going to leave, call me when you want to talk."

she fist tightened, her nails digging into her palms. "of course you are, you're good at leaving." she felt a surge of emotion through her veins. anger, sadness, she felt it all when you said that and she gave up. you bit your lip, feeling like you were about to boil over. she read into your expression of disbelief, "you know how hurt i was?"

"you were hurt?!" you yelled. joohyun flinched at your volume, which you noticed, but you couldn't just bottle this up forever and act like you were okay just to protect her. "what about me? i was hurt too when you made me sit through that date, watching you flirt and laugh with some man you met a few days ago. i was hurt when i watched you talk to him over the phone when we were supposed to be hanging out. i was hurt that someone you spent so little time with managed to steal you away from me so easily, even though i've been by your side for years."

you quickly tried to wipe the streams coming from your eyes, but they just kept pouring. joohyun sat there so lost, perplexed by your shouts.

"what.. what are you–"

"for years, i've been in love with you, joohyun."

joohyun's eyes widen and her arm that was holding her up gave out for a split second. her puzzled face made you want to laugh in pain. you spun around and made your way out of the room, desperate to get out as quickly as possible.

you snatched your keys off your kitchen table and stuffed them into your pocket, slipping on your favorite pair of shoes that you left randomly placed at the front door.

before you could even put on the first one, joohyun slammed you into the wall, pinning you against it. if it were any normal day, you would have let her do her thing and just stood there flustered, but you were over it. "joohyun, move." you command, trying to gently pry her off of you.

"no!" she cried, doing her best to prevent you from slipping out of her grip. she was really afraid that you were going to leave her this time.

"joohyun."

"so stupid.." she mumbles and you furrow your eyebrows. soon, you were going to get wrinkles.

"me, stupid?"

"you are! you really think i want that bumbling idiot?" she growled.

"well, yes? i saw how bright your eyes sparkled when you talked to him. you love him, i can tell." you remembered how stoked she was after the first date, spending her days on her phone, talking to him.

obviously, that's not how she recalls it. "how are you going to tell how i feel?"

"i'm not stupid joohyun."

"well maybe you are because i'm in love with you too."

you both just gaze into each other's eyes, feeling the tension lingering in the air. your eyes slowly shifted down to her lips that were slightly apart, listening to her breathing pick up its pace. you wanted to kiss her so badly, her plump lips so tempting to taste. seeing that you weren't going to make the first move, joohyun placed both of her hands on your cheeks and inched forward, capturing your lips into a kiss.

the leisurely kiss slowly turned into a heated make out. the sounds of your wet kisses were deafening, the entire place dead silent otherwise. she was starting to pin you more by leaning her body onto yours, pressing you completely into the wall as her hands snaked around your neck. it was making you dizzy, feeling her body on yours. you tilted your head and bit her lip, allowing you to slip your tongue in to explore her mouth. joohyun let out a small moan in return, surprising you.

you broke the kiss, your lungs crying for air as you try to figure out if this was going the way you hoped it was. scared she did something wrong, joohyun looked down and frowned. you put a hand on her chin, lifting her head up so you could continue. "joohyun. do you really want this?" she nods eagerly, her excitement showing through how quick she responded. "i need you to say it out loud."

"yes, please, i want this." she pleaded. without wasting a second, you latched onto her neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks behind. she tried not to moan in fear of making you stop again, which she did not want at all. the pleasure was overwhelming for her, overwhelmingly good at least. you picked her up and she yelped as she wrapped her legs around your waist, your hands supporting her underneath her thighs. while you carried her to your room, she pushed back your hair and pressed kisses on a sensitive spot under your ear.

you opened your door with your foot and went straight to the bed, laying her down on her back. "turn over." she listens to you and flips onto her stomach. you go for the zipper of the dress and slowly pull it down, revealing her silky skin and pink laced bra. you hum in approval of her choice on undergarments, enjoying the view from behind. she whines, protesting your speed, urging you to hurry up.

she brings her hand to yours on her back to take over, but you slap it away. "don't rush me, joohyun." the authority in your voice makes her quiver, the heat between her legs intensifying. "i'll make sure you know how to be patient by the time we finish here." you say with smirk, loving how you can affect her so easily as she lets out a breathy sigh.

once the metal reached the end of the zipper, you placed your palm on the lower part of her back, making her flinch at the contact. you pulled down the sleeves of the dress and undressed her, revealing her pink lingerie set which amuses you. you toss the dress to a corner, careful not to ruin it as it was a cherished gift of yours. your eyes traced her fame, admiring how gorgeous her body was in pink.

"you wore this to your date with that douche? you got all prettied up for him?" you ask, a little mad just thinking about her wearing such a lewd thing for someone other than you. she nodded and pushed herself up with her elbows, shifting to face you, a little shy that you were seeing her in this. she puts her arms over her chest and groin. you grab her arms firmly and move them out of the way, allowing you to see her completely. "funny you think he deserved any of this."

you let go of her arms and grope her right breast, to which she lets out a squeak. "this," you give her a squeeze, making her moan out. "is mine. understood?" she just nods again, eyes closed as she focuses on the works of your hand. you move your hand around to her back and feel for the hook of her bra, undoing it with one hand. you tugged it off, the sight of a topless joohyun absolutely one of your favorites.

you forced her back until she was laid down flat, latching your lips around her perky nipple. the new sensation made her throw her head back, her nipples very sensitive. she felt your teeth gently bite on her nub and soothe it with a swipe of your tongue. at some point, she stopped caring about being loud or not, it was very obviously going to be impossible to be quiet when you knew how to pleasure her so well.

your lips left her chest and slowly worked its way down to her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses every inch of the way. you looked through your eyelashes and saw that she was just watching you so intensely, clearly waiting for you to relieve the ache that was only growing the farther down you went. just to tease a little more, you started to go the opposite way of where she wanted you to go.

joohyun whined for the nth time and pushed your shoulders back until you were face to face with her clothed pussy. there was already a wet spot forming on her underwear, the smell of her arousal intoxicating. with your pointer finger, you press onto the wet patch. her whole body seems to react as she tenses up, crying out, and you snicker at how sensitive her body was.

"stop teasing me, please." she begged.

"fine." you began rubbing her heated cunt through the fabric, and all the tension left her body. her small whimpers fueled you to get straight to the main course. you take her panties and rip them, tearing them off of her so you could have full access to her sopping pussy.

"hey!" she sits up halfway using her elbows, "do you know how much this set was?!" it was like steam was coming out of her ears. joohyun always valued everything and took care of her stuff with care so that they would last longer. you just laugh and look at her, the fact that you didn't give a shit was written all over your face.

you hold up her torn underwear with one finger, "baby. i can buy you as many as you want, but you are not keeping this." you take the pink laced set and tossed it to the side. "as if i would let you wear this lingerie after you bought it with the intention of having someone else take it off of you." you muttered.

your eyes take in the sight of her fully nude with her legs spread open, her wetness glistening in the light. once again, she felt shy under your gaze and forgot that she was even mad in the first place. she tried to close her legs, but you palmed her crotch, your hand getting covered in her juices. the pressure you apply makes her moan as she slowly begins moving her hips, grinding against your hand.

you let her do her own thing for a moment, taking the chance to get impossibly closer. you remove your hand and replace it with your tongue, giving small kitten licks to her bundle of nerves, each paired with a small whine. joohyun gasped as you sucked her clit and swirled your tongue around it.

"fuck! h-haah, why are you so good at this.." she asked between breathy sighs. you let go of her nub with a small pop before dragging your tongue down her slit. she was soaked. you slurped up her wet, slick juices and dipped your tongue into her, making her emit sounds at a pitch you didn't even know she could reach. you pick her thighs up and put them on your shoulders. as you devour her, you circled her clit with your thumb.

her mind is foggy, the unholy thoughts of having you ravish her all day, every day being the only thing she can think about. no one knew how to treat her like you do, how to pleasure her, how to make her feel good. comparing you to her past relationships and few one-night stands, there was really no one better than you.

you pausing made her perk up, unhappy with the loss of contact. "no one better than me, hm?" your teasing smirk infuriated her, realizing that she let her last thought slip out. she put her hand on your head and pushed you back down.

"shut up, i didn't say that." she lied.

you took it as a challenge, a taunt. "oh really? so you need me to prove that there will never be anyone to please you like i do? consider it done, bae joohyun." you stopped talking and dove in, clamping your lips around her engorged bud. without warning, you plunged two fingers into her sopping pussy. she screamed out in surprise by the complete 180, going from soft and gentle to rough in the blink of an eye. the mix of your fingers thrusting in and out of her with the biting and licking of her clit brought her closer to her climax within minutes.

"fuck-!!" she put both of her hands onto your head, raising her hips trying to press herself harder against your face. "gonna cum, i'm gonna cum!" she warns, but her higher pitched tone with her antsy movements gave it away already. you sped up and curled your fingers into the spongy flesh. you pressing onto her g-spot sent her over the edge, her back arching as she gasped.

she went silent before her body started shaking violently, her soft, warm thighs crushing your skull in order to keep you in place and she came. you removed your fingers, but continued to lap up her gushing juices, making sure not to let a single drop go to waste. coming back down from cloud 9, she loosened her hold on your head, scared she hurt you because she needed an outlet for the pleasure.

all worry was wiped clean as you came upon with the biggest smile on your face, looking like a kid on a sugar rush. around your mouth and on your chin were the remnants of her orgasm, the thin coat shining in the light. she hummed, "i think you got a little something on your face." she joked, pointing to you. you poke your tongue and cleaned your lips, wiping the spots you couldn't reach with the back of your hands.

"all gone?" you ask. she shakes her head no and leans in, licking a strip on your face.

"there, all gone." she says innocently as she bats her eyelashes at you. she was so close that you could feel her breath on your face. she was so clearly staring right at your lips so you close the gap, smashing your lips into hers, allowing your lust and love take over. when you broke it to prevent yourself from suffocating, you saw how she's surprised by your energy. "what?"

"you thought i was done with you, hyun? i still have years of daydreams and fantasies that i need to fulfill. unless you're too tired?"

her surprised face transitioned to a snarky one, her energy matching yours now. "i'm never too tired to make up for lost time." she shoots back before pouncing onto you like a hungry fox hunting its prey.

the whole night was dedicated to you showing joohyun just how much you needed her, wanted her, and she got your message. she felt it in every touch and in every whisper.

you finally got the chance to express your deep and unwavering love for her. no more slow dancing in the dark.

#seullovesme » posted! #irene x reader #joohyun x reader #bae joohyun x reader #red velvet x reader #red velvet #bae irene #irene bae #irene smut #irene imagines #red velvet irene #bae joohyun #irene fic #red velvet fic

[moondirti]

13. A CHALLENGE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN OF ANIMALIC | MIGUEL O'HARA X F!READER

↼ chapter twelve / chapter fourteen ⇀

summary: you ask for a challenge. miguel gives you one worth your salt

mature | 10.2k words warnings: praise kink, mentorship with benefits, sparring, sexual tension, loads of banter/flirting, mild angst, sexual fantasies (including blowjobs), insecurity, blood and injury, mentions of death, dirty talk, arousal notes: i know y'all hate me after that end

Sunday, 14:45

“How long’s it been?” You urge, voice strained with thinning breath. 

Miguel – for all his insistence that you push yourself beyond normal measure – doesn’t seem to hear you, gazing off into a distant corner. His forehead looks especially flickable from this angle, in this particular moment, and you have to curl your fist to quell the urge as it arises.

“Hm?” He hums, finally snapping out of it when you walk to the stretch of ceiling above him, intruding on his eyeline. The conditioned air of the gym itches the parts of you that are damp with sweat, particularly that exposed by your drooping shirt, draped under your bra to reveal your abdomen. Gooseflesh pocks your skin.

“The time.” 

“Right.” He blinks, lifting his wrist to pause the stopwatch he’d set, then makes a small noise. “Double the last. You’re getting better.” 

“Yeah, well–” To dispense the effects his praise has on you, you turn to make your way over to the pull-up bars at the back. They were your means of getting up on the ceiling, and they’re your way off. “S’not really difficult. I’m just hanging, trying not to throw up.”

“You could start practising on walls. It’d make the whole ‘getting down’ process easier.” He says, almost admonishes. As good as you’ve gotten at defying gravity upside down, you’ve stayed clear of testing your luck by doing so perpendicularly. “Not to mention, accessible. You won’t always have conveniently placed support to help you.” 

“I don’t quite trust it yet.” Because you don’t, and it’s hard to imagine you will. The whole idea feels like a big fuck you to every physics lesson you’ve ever digested. “It makes no sense.” Swinging off the bar, you make sure to land on a wide stance to prevent your tumble. Your extremities have long since numbed, and you’ve already learnt your lesson on how that generates a lack of stability for the first few seconds until adjustment. “If everything in the universe operates on the same laws, I won’t be the exception.” 

“You’re right.” Miguel ducks to fetch the bottle you left beside him, handing it over before you can ask. “You wouldn’t be. Several spiders manage it just fine.” 

“Several spiders also have several one-ups on me.” The cold slice of water cuts through your thirst, tamping the headache you could sense starting at your sinuses. Recovery, in absolute contrast to your endurance, has cut by half. You’re recuperating from exertion a lot quicker than before.

“Like?” 

“Failsafes in case they fall. Web-shooters, assistive gear.” You neglect to broach the topic of your own infallible; him, never too far out of reach. Not only would its mention go against your point, you’re still unsure of the nature of his aid – whether he would catch you if the severity of the situation did not call for it. If he’s here because you need him, or in commitment to a duty beyond your understanding. 

(Tallying what you know about Miguel, you’d bet on the latter.)

“Everyone starts somewhere.”

“Very helpful, thanks.” You’d offer him your drink, but even the thought of his lips touching where yours once did makes you flush with molten heat. Late at night, tucked on your bed as you watch the highway leading to Second Base, you strain to remember what they felt like, mashed to yours in a laser confined cell. If you knew back then how things would end up, maybe you would’ve savoured it for longer. “Experience too. With the constant danger they face, they pretty much have to equip every skill at their disposal.” 

“Is that what you want, then – danger?” He teases, mouth curling in a downwards smile. You’re too quick to shake your head. That word, want, still haunts you.

“You’re missing the point.” 

“Am I, now.” 

“I’m just saying,” Biting your cheek, you scramble for a fitting sentiment. Nothing quite encapsulates the crux of your little tangent, and you can’t help but compare yourself to Miguel. No matter how far the conversation strays, he always finds a link to tie it altogether. Unshakeable, poised. Like the sun, pulling comets into its orbit until they shine brilliantly, their tails forged under the radiation pressure. “A challenge might hit your lessons closer to home. Y’know, thrill, adrenaline – forcing me to resort to lengths I wouldn’t typically go to, instilling in me all the marks you want me to land on.” 

(But if he’s the sun, what would that make you? Pluto, far on the other side of the solar spectrum, barely doing enough to keep its cosmic status? Even dwarf planets have their pull, some force strong enough to accrete nearby matter, and so it seems ill-fitting.)

Your mentor accepts your argument regardless, nodding minutely. 

(Perhaps you’re the comet itself – coming from nowhere, heading nowhere, meant for the one, singular event that could give your existence meaning. That crossing paths with a star, to burn brightly in its influence before dissolving into nothing.)

“Similar to the planking exercise we do. Up the stakes and simulate something real for you.” 

We. Your stomach lurches to your chest and you have to swallow it back before speaking. “Y-Yeah.” 

“Te entiendo. Alright.” He agrees. “If that’ll get you to make progress. Come.” You follow him to the centre of the room, stumbling over hurried strides until you reach the combat training mat. “You remember our first day here.” 

“Feels like centuries ago, but yes.” You respond, assuming he means the premiere lesson of yours, betiding this very spot. You’d christened it by letting him fuck your throat, and that’ll forever be the memory that occurs to you so long as you keep returning to this gym. It’s hard to forget.

“What did I ask you to do?” 

“Er– Pin you down.” Your pitch drops an octave in an effort to mock him. “Three seconds, and you’ll have proved your point.” His inflection is tough to nail down, though – unique to the broad-shouldered form that affords his vocal folds more space, subtly curled where his accent comes through. You end up sounding like a parched frog more than you do him. 

He shakes his head, nose twitching. It’s a vague quirk that says nothing about his amusement. 

“As I recall it, you couldn’t.” 

“As I recall, I was kept quite busy.” You, of course, are referring to his cock and it’s wedging into your mouth. And if he didn’t get the implication on word alone, then your lewd miming of the act fills in what gaps remain. Miguel sighs, waiting for your redolence to subside to continue. Though his weight shifts from one foot to the other, like he’s ridding himself of the tension that swells at your suggestion, and the small action speaks louder than what he likely intends. To think that you might have the same effect on him as he does you, however physical, is a tempting thing. 

“Before that.” 

You acquiesce, arm flopping uselessly to your side. “Sure. Though to be fair, I’ve no knowledge on how.”

“Good.” He crosses his arms. “We’re going to try again.” 

“Right now?” 

“No.” 

“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” Rolling your eyes, you start to fold your sleeves to sit above the elbow. “Or next thing I know, I’m trapped in a cage with Rhino and a knife for defence.” 

That drives a chuckle from him. It’s warm and coarse and low, and with the way your stomach churns at the sound, you hardly care that it’s at your expense. “Proper spectacle that would be. You wouldn’t last ten minutes. The best I’d give you is a weaponless Vulture.” 

“Are you forgetting that I took down a symbiote on my own? Where your first instinct was to throw punches at it.” You huff. “They’re regenerative!” 

“An oversight on my part. ‘Course, I didn’t want to get involved in the first place.” His chin practically sits on his chest now, tipped down to look you face-to-face. It’s the way through which you realise how close you’ve gotten, nose millimetres away from his forearm. He smells infuriatingly clean – fresh patchouli aftershave, soap, clothes fragranced from the laundry, familiar only because you use the same detergent. “Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for you, your opponent continues to be me.”

“And you want us to wrestle.” 

“Given a few caveats.” He shrugs when your expression pinches. “To make it more real.” 

“Okay…” 

“Today will continue as is. I’m going to teach you the basics of taking down a larger opponent and we’ll drill it until you understand.” You cut his explanation into small fragments for better digestion – takedown, larger than you, drills – and show your attendance with wide eyes, following as he circles you. “Pinning me down in a static setting is simple enough. Your challenge is to do so unexpectedly, somewhere outside of this gym. Within the next week, I want you to sneak up on me and staple me to the ground for upwards of three seconds. Anywhere, any time of the day; so long as you aren’t following me on missions, it’s all up to you. Take me by surprise, use it to your advantage. But remember–” 

You cock your head, earnest. As he speaks again, it’s seven trumpets to armageddon, deep punctures to the anticipative silence you’ve built.

“When you come for me, I won’t be holding back.” 

Ribs echoing with the rattle of your rapid heartbeat, you wipe your palms on the loose fabric of your sweats and take longer than you perhaps need to register his dare. He wants you to act much like a hero would on a stealth operation. That’s fine. You can do that. You’ll be taught on how to disable him and all that’s left is the matter of covertness, in which you have an advantage given your newfound ability to walk on the overturned pathways of HQ. Except–

“Wouldn’t your spider-sense–” 

He shakes his head. No. And though he doesn’t state it explicitly, you’re reminded of his claws and how divergent they are to the standard spider-power. It seems, then, that he differs in more ways than one. No enhanced intuition. You couldn’t imagine. 

But it’s new. Exciting. It’s exactly what you needed, and again, you’re left wondering how he’s gotten so good at reading you. If in place for his deficits, he’d been granted a supernatural knowledge on body language. Even now he’s looking, studying your restrained appearance for a hint of your feelings on the subject. You give it to him with a devilish smile.

“That the best you got?” 

“Big talk.” He winds around you, positioning behind your back. “We’ll see how you feel in seven days.” 

“Glorious, having kicked your ass ‘n’ all.” 

“Okay, sparks. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Miguel says, before patting your hip. His hand is heavy, and you brace yourself against the urge to shiver under it. “Most people are left leg-leaning. Not always, but it’s a statistic you can count on for learning. Put it forward. I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

You do as he says, adjusting to an open posture, slanting your torso so your head faces the same direction as your left foot. The man appears in front of you after making a few corrections, mirroring your effort. 

“Because I’m anticipating what leg you’ll resort to, I’ll bring my right leg forth. Always match same side foot. It’ll give you leverage towards your opponent’s vulnerable areas.” You sway a bit when his muscles stretch the taut material of his shirt. As you try to picture what more is hidden by his civilian clothes, it occurs to you that you’ve never seen him nude enough to make that a possible feat. “Assuming you’re shorter than them, aiming for their lower half is your most efficient bet. But you want their focus away from it when you make the jump.” 

Blinking, you reorient yourself away from your tangent. “Right.” 

“So you’re going to reach.” 

“Rea–” 

Suddenly, he’s grabbing for your face. It’s swift and done with enough aggression that you don’t process what you’re doing until your arms come up to defend it. Split second instinct, your spider sense combing through the hairs on your neck. And he takes the obliviously-given opportunity to duck, hooking his foot behind yours, back hand wrapping around your knee to grip onto his other. His head pushes up on your ribs to stand you on one leg, off balance, and faster than it started, it stops. The attack throws you backward, slamming you onto the cushioned floor. Air syphons out of your lungs. 

“When they’re down, you don’t hesitate to straddle them.” He adds. “The blow will probably knock their limbs to the side.” He bridges over you, lowering so that his knees touch the surface above your shoulders and his feet anchor onto the bits below. His weight rests on your upper arms now. You, despite the loss, can’t help but flick your gaze down to his crotch. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “The technique’s called stapling. Pressing down on two points to completely immobilise.”

“Feels awfully familiar.” You grin, only to choke on the spit accumulating by the back of your throat when he not only acknowledges your innuendo, but reciprocates. 

“Used to being on the bottom?” Huffed sardonically, with all the constituents of a flirt yet none of the sticky-sweet charm. And he doesn’t give your stunned-self a chance to quip back either, rising and gesturing that you do the same. You scramble off your back, rubbing the sore spots left by his grip, watching him warily. It’s facile to convince yourself that it didn’t really happen at all. “Your turn. Right foot forth this time. Remember, reach and duck.” 

You stay locked onto him when you throw your fist up at his face, stopping shy of his jaw. He isn’t as ignorant as to believe you, but his elbows draw away from his hips to allow space for your consequent assault. Squatting, you step forward to completely embrace his left leg. Quick calculations tell you that his weakest point is at his knee, so you lower your clutch around it, cheek squishing onto his stomach, before lifting the appendage off the ground. It isn’t heavy on you, all his mass directed to the back leg he now has to balance on. 

And then– 

And then… what? 

He’d done it so briskly that you completely missed his method. 

“Tell me what you did wrong.” Miguel examines. He’s got your head scissored in one strong arm, and if you weren’t struggling to comprehend how he gained the upper-hand, you’d be salivating with how potent his cologne is from this distance. 

You mutter a faint “Agreeing to this.” and hope your bowed pose muffles it enough.

“Overcommitting. If I wanted to, I could shove your neck downward and take you on from behind.” He shakes you off his leg. “Don’t put your chest on my thigh. Lace your right shoulder over it so that your crown hits my ribs. Yeah, that’s it.” He smooths his hand over your back. It’s merely a graze and almost enough to have you collapse out of position entirely. “See how your head is preventing my arm from leaning on you? Good. Now use that, knoc– oomf.” 

You don’t let him finish, driving him up until he tips backwards. The gratification stalls you for a split-moment, pride trembling up your frame, knocking your bones together. But he raises an eyebrow at you from the ground, and you remember the second part of the expectation.

(If this were the real thing, you’d be squashed by now. He’s holding back, guiding you semi-gently through this practice round.) 

With no further ado, you seat yourself on his abdomen. His biceps are too large to pin your calves to while keeping both your knees and toes to the ground, so you spread until you can do so over the bends of his arms. Your pelvis aches with the near-split, and you find you couldn’t care less, shivering in high delight. 

“Huh. Would you look at that.” You wiggle to reinforce your point. “And how did I do for my first time?” 

(Admittedly, it’s a much milder line than what you had in mind; but even you have your limits, and congratulating him on taking your wrestle-victory virginity is just out of bounds.) 

“Everyone starts somewhere.” He says, purposefully echoing his earlier attitude, recognizant of how it irritated you so. The answer pops your ego before it could begin to surmount to anything. “But you wavered, don’t pretend I didn’t see that. Get off. We’re going again.” 

Tuesday, 22:00

Your first attempt at his challenge comes late. 

The logic felt elementary; wait a day before trying anything so he’s caught further off his guard. It was a plan born with sights on his warning – when you come for me, I won’t be holding back – and, admittedly, your anxiety to it. This new equanimity you find yourself within is fragile, a compromise held up on couth alone. You’ve fought Miguel at his best, with claws reared and fangs snarled right at you. It never ended cleanly. And if either of you lose sight of the labour that is keeping it civil – away from that exact past – you’re terrified that things will shatter in pieces that tear you apart.

(There also remains the knowledge that you’d lose, sorely, should the match be equal.)

So, you didn’t want to give him the opportunity to resist at all. To your sleep-deprived self, there were a few steps in ensuring that: 

Find him late at night, following a presumably long day, having just been lulled into faux comfort by his last meal before retiring. Beyond the fact that you skipped a day since his initial proposal to act on it – with a belly full of food, the lights of HQ dimmed low, and a drowsy filter cast by work, he’ll grow lax. Complaisant. At least, that was your theory, based on patterns you’ve observed in yourself. And it had been solid enough to ground your hopes on, especially when all that was required of you is to disarm him. 

Only as you wait for him to emerge from the cafeteria do you realise the various other factors you forgot to take into account. Ones that complicate your lattermost objective.

The bridge is still, a thick cover of quiet befalling the sector. Bobbing outside the asymmetric windows is a waning gibbous moon, its luminescence casting lurid shadows onto the carpets and columns surrounding you. You sit, crouched behind a bench on an offside seating area, tracing patterns onto an adjacent palisade with your eyes. The moulding on it is triangular, like everything else in this building, and the task is mind-numbing enough that it hits you, then and there. Entirely too late. 

He only taught you the one way of tackling your opponent. 

Head on, with no room for stealth in your approach. Unless Miguel comes out of the cafeteria with a blindfold on, he’ll see you running towards him and squander the endeavour with ease. It’s like you to resort to your worst suspicions when cornered, so you can’t help but believe he did that on purpose. Either to test your ingenuity, or for some other convoluted reason you’ve no mind to get to right now. 

Fuck. That bastard. 

Should you back down now, you won’t trust yourself to face him tomorrow. Already, you’ve stalled for far too long, prudent to the approaching deadline. A week's time. Seven days to prove you’re worth your salt, to overcome the obstacles he’s thrown your way. Unlike your other exercises, you weren’t guaranteed anything in return for mastering this. He probably expects you to want it so bad that you become motivationally self-sufficient. And he’d be right. You do. Christ, you’d asked for it – this much needed intervention on the monotony you’ve been living in. It’s given you something to do beyond your lessons, and a victory might encourage him to design more like it. So–

You’ll stay. Work something out – an alternative plan. He hasn’t been in the caf for long. Given the chance he chose to have a sit down meal, you’ll have time. 

“Lyla.” 

The artificial intelligence flickers into being above you, hovering at your shoulder. She appears wildered, blinking owlishly at the source of her summon. You’d never called on her before – until now, you didn’t think you could. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and your throwing caution to the wind seems to have paid off. 

That is, if she’s willing to proffer Miguel’s position. 

“Upgraded from haunting worlds to our very own HQ?” 

You shrug, blaisé to the jab you’ve heard so often. “Promise I’m on my best behaviour.” 

“My, my.” She belly flops onto a nonexistent surface, still level with your nose, to shelf her chin onto her hands and kick her feet behind her. A small smile worms its way onto your expression when you notice her attire; a silk set of pyjamas, bunny slippers and a heart-shaped sleeping mask, pushed back to keep her bangs off her forehead. “Wonder what the boss has to say about that.” 

“The boss can’t know I’m here.”  

“My lips are sealed.” After miming the action, she glitches onto the ground in front of you, peeking from behind the bench to spy on the automatic doors leading into the cafeteria, much like you’re doing. “What’s with the secrecy? Please tell me this is a proposal. You’re certainly underdressed, but we can work what we’ve got. Oo!” She straightens to a ram-rod posture, alongside the exclamation mark that pops above her head,  clothes returning to normal and a clipboard materialising in her hand. “We can add a little jeuje to the space. What’re we thinking? Flowers–” An orange array of digital peonies projects onto the bridge, fat and blossoming with accelerated speed. “Or streamers?” The petals are soon replaced by banners and curled ribbons, drooping from overarching beams. 

Face molten with panic – and a hint of mortification – you wave through her incorporeal form to hurriedly interrupt her tangent. You can only hope that none of the commotion gave away your primacy. 

“No!” Whisper shouting, you bow your head to the floor to look her in the eye. “Nothing like that. Listen, I just need you to watch Miguel and report back to me on his status. Preferably, before he exits the cafeteria. It’ll help me anticipate his approach while I think of what to do next.” 

“Hmmm.” The lifeform approximation takes her sweet time considering it. Your gaze oscillates anxiously between her and the door, your body in perpetual flight or fight. Any longer, and you’re afraid quick-trigger reflex will have you jumping regardless of whether he emerges or not. “Don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I gotcha. Double agent Lyla, at your command!” 

And then, she disappears. 

Her aid does not reassure you. Baby hairs tickle your nape, matted with sweat. The condition persists, extending to your palms, which lay pressed to the tiled floor to tamp the perspiration seeping from them. Adrenaline – the very response you’d predicted – makes you sick and dizzy despite, bubbling up your gut in violent bursts. For all that you should be focusing on a course of action, her words claim a monopoly in your mind. 

Double agent. 

Do you want to know? 

No, you decide. Not now. Whatever it is, it’s bound to hinder your performance. You settle back down.

Moments later, she crops back up. 

“He’s on his way. If I were you, I’d up and turn around. He looks hangry.” 

“Thanks, Lyla.” It’s about the worst thing she can say to you right now. “Go back to… sleep.” 

Giving a final bow of her head, she departs. Her exit marks the milliseconds before Miguel’s entrance – sacred suspense stretching, spreading, only to implode by the schwip of the automatic door. It unlatches, layer by layer, to reveal a wide silhouette, framed by the bright fluorescents of the still-open cafeteria. 

She’s right. Based on posture alone, you can tell he isn’t in the best of moods. It’s the only clarity you’re afforded as the entryway closes off, plunging him – and you – into the void of your surroundings. You strain to see where he begins or ends now, navy-suit obscuring his edges, punctuated only by the red accents on his chest. They become your indication on how and where he moves, the angling of the lines informing you that he’s headed straight towards you. 

In complete contrast to the plod he takes on, your internal dialogue is a tangled mess of stray worries. An old, feral part of you – the girl who had to fend for herself for a year, untreated to the woes and safeties of regular food and board – claws out with a vengeance. She’s scared, she has nothing to lose, she’s plump with horror at the sight of a prowling hero, which had only meant one thing for her – and the sheer force of it all crushes you into choked submission. Perhaps it’s foolish to think you’ve moved on from your past when old habits return so easily. So she is still you, and it takes a good bit of convincing – of spotting and counting backwards from ten and breathing real slow – to prioritise your objective in face of the sudden regression. 

By the time you manage it, in fact, he’s already a few paces away. 

There goes your plan. 

Frantically, you spring off your haunches, shooting to the side to hinder his track in an bid to salvage what’s left of it. It’s clumsy, lacking all the grace necessary for you to have even the chance of success, and when he stutters short of stepping on you, you make matters worse by curling around his ankles, striving to destabilise him by tugging at the roots of his support. 

It fails. Obviously. 

(In a rather anticlimactic way.)

He releases an exasperated sigh, staring down at your writhing form with what you can only imagine is regret at having ever agreed to this. “What are you doing?” 

“Um–” You stop, glancing at him with one, hesitant eye. “Tackling you.” 

Miguel blinks. Once. Twice. His foot bounces, pushing you off. Then– 

“Up, before you hurt yourself.” Unphased. Strict.

You clamber to a stand. He gives you a once over, shakes his head, and brushes past you to continue his route. As he walks off, you catch a quiet huff, followed by a mutter – the reflection meant only for himself to hear.  “Tackling me. Honestly.”

Wednesday, 10:20

Your second attempt finds you asleep under his desk.

Not deliberately, of course. You didn’t drag a pillow and comforter to his lab like an impromptu nap would lend you an upper hand. The position that brought it forth is hardly even a comfortable one – tucked under a squat table that has you bending your neck to fit, raised high off the ground on a hovering platform, in a cavernous office whose only lightsource seems to be the overhead aperture and orange monitors. They beep multiversal jargon and blare the occasional alarm, which never fails to send your heart rate sky-high – and if you hadn’t at all been convinced in your plot, then you would’ve left after the first couple minutes wait. 

It’s torturous. Depressing. How he’s able to think, let alone work here, is beyond you. It can only be an optimal environment for what you set out to do – and perhaps that’s a point you should take up with him, should he care about being snuck up on by a more competent threat. 

But you dozed off anyway, made weary with all your fretting, legs pressed close to your breast, cheek slotted upon them. It was cold, and he hadn’t arrived yet – off being the responsible spider-hero that he is, conducting city patrol while you tarry for the opportune – and Hobie’s gifted cardigan is snug enough around your frame that it serves as a blanket of sorts. Your course of action, set on an unremitting loop in your mind, was the last straw – a lullaby, cradling you down onto security. Fully drafted, practised, with no room for mistakes given the lessons you learnt last time. 

Even submerged in sleep, it’s all you think about. 

On account of an oversight, you’d panicked. Lept at him with no regard for the tactics you’ve learnt, instead of rerouting an alternative or preparing for contingencies. He’d taught you to tackle him head-on, and while that isn’t ideal for the covert-component of this challenge – like on that bridge, where he would’ve seen you coming from miles away – you can still make do with what you’ve got. That’s why you’re here, early in the morning, waiting for him to come to you, all while remaining oblivious to your presence under his desk. Not only does it grant you cover while he stands mere centimetres away, it ensures his hands are too busy to defend him when you strike, raised to tap away at his screens.

Those are the foundations you worked out on your chagrined walk home last night. The logistics – intricacies you have to calculate spontaneously – can be dealt with as they come up. Like sneaking in undetected. (Accomplished successfully.) Or whether space will allow you to lunge out onto him when he appears. (You practised it first thing – one eye on the door in case he comes in – and established that with a bit of improvisation, it’s possible.)

Your fingers twitch, triggered by muscle memory into acting the attack out on a smaller scale. It’s odd that you recognise it – still somewhat unconscious, suspended in an hypnopompic state where both your dreams and reality intersect. Elements of both topple over one another, porcelain dominoes that splinter on impact. You feel your fingers twitch, yes, and the scrape of your chapped lips – things you abstractedly assign as real – but they’re strewn between memories that run like worn film, singed at the edges. 

A warm hand cupping your neck, callused fingers rubbing lightly over the curve of your shoulder. Shallow breaths, fanned across your lashes, struggled in keeping still. 

Multi-coloured motes, flipping through a catalogue of colours in dark corners. 

A headache, nipping the nerves leading to your brain. Pain, excruciatingly itchy above your elbow, up the back of your arm. Whiplash, smouldering agony across the junction of your shoulder. 

A voice, hummed from the depths of a broad chest. Resonant, rugged. ‘Don’t move’ – the demand so steady it could’ve been gospel. Him, keeping you stable. Him, the only constant you know.

For a moment, you believe you’re still there. Buried under mounds of grey rubble, nestled on his lap. Oxygen depleted, injuries severe. No hope of escaping or checking in on the population of Earth-15, whose fate you screwed by merely existing on the same plane. The past number of weeks were fable, then, conjured by your sick mind to help you die easy. Creating a story besides the one that ended you; where you and Miguel worked something out.

And if it’s true – if you truly imagined it all – then that’d entail you never grew out of your hatred. You never got to rest on a bed, or take a shower, or bask in a filling meal again. It’d mean you didn’t leave any legacy beyond that of Wraith; destroyer of worlds, bane of his existence. 

(And that you never counted as anything more to him than just that.)

Gradually, the pseudo-dream morphs into a nightmare born of stressful thought, and at its peak, it shakes you so hard you wake up. Bones jolting out of your skin, legs ready to kick outwards; raptured in fight-or-flight until you remember where you are, why it’s so cramped – because his desk is obnoxiously short and not because a building toppled over you – and how you got here. 

You’re thankful you’re able to collect yourself so swiftly. Had you smacked your head on the belly of the table, or otherwise panickedly flailed about, then you would have alerted the man currently standing in front of you. His upper body is cut off from your sight, but you’d recognise those muscled thighs anywhere. Clad in his digital suit, little patterns shimmering on its surface. You see them clearer in your proximity, correlating them to the figures you’d observed on his monitors. Parallel lines and concentric circles, like maps of the spider-verse projected onto a navy backdrop. 

How long were you out?

Despite your semi-awareness to your surroundings, you hadn’t heard him come in. Nor did you feel the platform drop to allow him to step onto it. You brush the confusion off, figuring it’d do you no good, and rub the drowsiness from your eyes while catching yourself up to speed. 

You’re here to tackle him. The voice in your head begins chanting the plan again; leap out, grab his forward leg, ram his ribs with your head and pray it’s enough to tip him over. That’s one.

Two: you’re a quiet sleeper. You can’t imagine the embarrassment had you not been – if he were to catch you napping in his office by following the sound of your groans. You suppose it’s a frivolous thing to get hung up on, but you remember how your college roommate would talk during her nightmares. It never failed to capture your attention, even with headphones clasped tightly to your ears.  

Which leads into your third remark– 

He doesn’t realise you’re here; the most important thing considering. You’re still in the clear to go ahead. 

Right now, Miguel is a smidge too far away for it to work out. You knead the sore flesh of your nape, stalking his feet for the slightest movement. They stand on the other side of the platform, verging near its brink, tapping in cogitation. Then, when he swipes a screen away from his direct view, his weight leans onto the back one. The manoeuvre brings his pelvis lower, cut-off rising to his midriff. It’s all you can do to remain dignified, gaze locked on anywhere except his hamstrings and where they round out to form a pronounced behind. 

Would it be wrong for you to abandon your objective on justification of lust? It strokes some primal part of you seeing him so dedicated to his work. You’re instantly overwhelmed with the urge to crawl out and service him like this, on your knees, while he maintains his concentration. To give him a soft mouth, soft hands, maybe elicit an iota of pride over how well you behave. It’s depraved – you won’t deny it – but in your darkest moments, nothing consoles you like the thought of his unequivocal praise. Acceptance. There’s no one it would matter more from. 

(No one it could matter more from. It’s true that he’s the only constant presence you’d ever had, even before your world went to ruin. Though you’re unsure of whether it’s in good providence, or if you’ll ever fully accept the fact.)

Miguel steps closer. You repress the reverie, slapping yourself softly to land back on target. A bit more to his left– yes, that’s it. He’s in front of you now. 

When you’d practised, your head had to be out from underneath the desk for the manoeuvre to work. Pushing up into a squat, you shuffle forward. All you need is a distraction so he doesn’t catch you peeking out in his peripheral, and it comes in the form of child laughter. 

Distant, as though it’s been passed through a speaker. With the way it repeats, incessant like that of a fond video playing over and over, you can appreciate that it isn’t happening live. Perhaps it’s a subject he’s keeping his eye on, or he’s slacking off with a movie. Not that it matters, of course – so long as he’s honed in on anything other than you.

His knee is at your eyeline. You scoot further. The low metal of the desk slips over your head. Now or never. 

Pouncing, you wrap a gable grip around the bend of his leg, using the momentum of your squat to spring upwards. It’s bull-like when your forehead slams onto the exposed expanse of his ribs, toes skidding for acceleration as you force him to balance on the one limb, driving onward. The force could’ve concussed, had he not been cushioned by brawn. It’s certainly enough to almost throw him over, in any case. He stumbles backward, arm slipping across your back, and the scuffle is so promising that you let yourself relax slightly.

That’s your fault, you admit. 

He exploits the slip-up to wrench your arms off from around his knee, using the appendages to pull you out from underneath him. With a frankly painful tug at the wrists, he twists you so your back is facing him, before pinning them in one strong grip. You’re shoved onto his desk that way, unceremoniously bent at the hip, nose ramming into the reinforced durasteel. Warmth trickles from it. A metallic taste fills the back of your mouth. 

“¡Maldita sea! What the hell?”

Pain crackles up your nose, where ichor continues to bloom and slip from your nostrils. His aggression perhaps shouldn’t surprise you – he did say he wouldn’t be holding back – but it’s parallel to the treatment you received as Wraith, and you can’t help but assume that he resorted to what he was used to in all the adrenaline.

“That hurts.” Groaning, you wiggle your fingers in a plea for release. His pelvis flattens on the plump of your ass, and it burns the longer he continues to press into you. The situation is almost reminiscent of the fantasies you create when alone; rough-treatment and all.

“Christ.” He hisses, backing off at once. Despite asking for it, you mourn his absence, rubbing the brand left by his clothed crotch, sheepishly turning back to look at him. The instant he sobers up, he’s opening the drawer to his left. “I didn’t realise it was you.” 

“Who else...” You murmur, ducking to shield your bloody nose from his attention. It’s done in vain, though – he already has a towel in hand, heading towards your face. Erroneously, you think he’s passing it to you and reach out to grab it – only to brush across his knuckles when he instead presses the white cotton to your lip. “Security that big of an issue?” 

“You got in, didn’t you.” 

“Har har.” As the red is wiped off your skin, he steadily lets you take over, dropping the towel to allow you to tamp the flow on your own. 

“How long have you been under there?” 

“Ah–” You pretend to occupy yourself with the task at hand, waiting for the heat to diffuse from your cheeks before you speak again. “Depends on what time it is.” 

“Half past ten.” 

“Two hours then.” You’d come in at eight. “Give or take.” 

“I’ve been here for one.” He adds, prodding for a more satisfying explanation. 

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t snooping for intel or anything.” A necessary preface and not at all a bid to steel yourself for your confession, the prospect of doing so filling you with shame. “I fell asleep.” 

“You–” Like his stutter, his brows spasm at a rapid pace, creasing together in a flash before smoothing out to form a more pleasant expression. With eyelids fluttered shut and lips quirked at the edges. Amusement. Your stomach cartwheels. “You fell asleep.” 

“Sure.” In complete contrast, you imagine your expression is solemn. Loss is an ugly and hopeless beast, roaring in your gut. You place the towel on his desk, starting to make your way out with a petulant march. “Like this place isn’t built for it, you gloomy jerk. I mean, where are the lights?”

(If he managed to overpower you despite doing everything correctly, then what chance have you got?) 

The universe has a sick sense of humour too, it seems. Your argument is interrupted by the border of the platform, where you teeter over a fifteen foot drop. Fear blazes through your nerves, suddenly awake with the knowledge that you’re hovering mid air, no fence or handrails to hold you in. 

Miguel chuckles from behind you, sounding way too pleased with himself when he asks. “You need help getting down?”

You throw a dirty glare over your shoulder, hoping it compensates for the humility you have to succumb to. “Yes.” 

His arms stay crossed over his chest, holding out. 

Fucking fine. 

“Please.”

Thursday, 13:05

You plonk the heavy bag of scraps onto your table, sighing in relief as the weight redistributes off of you. 

All morning, you’ve snooped around HQ with a nimble hand. It’s vast, after all, with many winding halls and unfrequented corners, of which you’re probably the only person to have walked through in weeks. Accompanying you, a makeshift pouch and a cover-up story; if any outsider should inquire – then you’re exploring the building that’s been your home for the last month. It would be suspicious, if the venture could not be so easily misconstrued.

No. You’re not worried. Far from it, in fact. You’re sure that the gadgets you pilfered won’t be missed. Some even had a thin coating of dust when you picked them up, their uses long neglected in favour of newer technologies. You’re merely giving them a new purpose, reshaping bits and bobs to suit your goal. 

(A far-fetched one, for certain. But it’s wild enough that he won’t expect it. 

That’s what you need. To stop playing by his rules.)

“Lyla.”

The AI glitches into translucency at your beckon, saluting as though you were a general and she a cadet. “Lyla á la espionage, reporting for duty!” 

“No. Not this time.” 

“Theeeen…” 

“Can I count on your discretion?” Squinting, you stare straight through her pink-heart glasses, like lying is an expected part of her programming. Her last remark occupies a small portion of your mind. Double agent. You still haven’t asked, and you’re running at a speed too fast to jump over that hurdle now.

“Perhaps.” 

Shaking your head, you do away with the ambiguity. “I’m hoping you’re good with tech.” You say anyway. “I need help.” 

She only grins, wickedly, skipping over to peer into your bag. You spread it open for her, laying out the stolen paraphernalia. Then–

“Wraithy.” She adjusts the moniker so that it rhymes with baby. “I am tech.”

Saturday, 2:00

Nueva York streaks past you in blurs of blue and purple. 

The sky lifts its buildings from the top up, spires pierced into its inky surface. You count the panels that pose a stark, golden contrast to the night-drenched landscape, lit up by residents whose lives are framed in the tiny windows. It’s a worthwhile distraction from the vertigo damaging your systems – all your efforts directed in looking forward, not up, as the ground shrinks farther and farther away above you. Yet with every metre, your distress worsens, distending to become a ferocious force. 

Eventually, not even city gazing is enough.

You’ve trained on ceilings. On balconies. But the bottom-side of an elevator is another matter entirely, especially as it moves with zipping speed. You’re terrified that, at any moment, it’ll wobble and send you plummeting to your untimely death. And Miguel, who currently stands on the flip-end of it, won’t be able to process your presence or scream for help by the time you hit the ground.

That’s the calculated risk you convinced yourself into making when you sought him out today. It’s evolved beyond the point of learning a lesson, or whatever prompt you’d initially proposed to get him to agree to this. Now, or in the way it has been for the past two days, it’s personal. Your ego is bruised but not battered yet, and if the cuffs on your forearms have any sway in it, then you’ll get your solatium soon enough. 

The apparatus is impressive, by standards of the day it took to hurriedly construct it. A smooth fit to your wrist, with narrowly hammered metal and a small compartment designed to hold your personal, synthetic formula. Lyla had pulled schematics from a large archive, handing you one she deemed ‘friendly for beginners’. You begrudged the coddling, if only because you yourself were worried about your competency with it. 

You tested it, naturally. It’s functional. The fluid is durable, if not sticky. If worse comes to worse, you can rely on the prototype to catch yourself. That’s what you tell yourself, at least, all the way up to the top floor of HQ, which comes at a gradual halt of the lift.

Eager, you hook your fingers over the brim of the platform before flipping over to the right side up. You somersault so your landing isn’t as heavy-footed, and blood bursts down to your numb legs as you reorient yourself with gravity. It’s all you can do to wait until you regain feeling in them, before following the man out the door. 

He’s multiple steps ahead already, traipsing with a tired gait. You match it, careful to set your toes down first so as to not make noise. The floor isn’t one you’ve been to – and it isn’t so much a floor as it is a singular hallway, lined with tilt-and-turn glass windows that gleam like all futuristic things do. The aesthetic is juxtaposed by a frankly retro carpet, shades of yellow and brown cut into a pattern you recognise from the bridges in the lobby. 

Plastered to the edge, away from the subjection of the spotlights down the middle, you wonder where he’s going. It’s gotten late – you’ve been shadowing him for the better half of a day, since Friday afternoon after your lesson. The plan was to tackle him on his way out, right as he was about to leave to go home, but it’s two a.m. now and he’s at work. Still in hero attire. Wandering a corridor you’ve no reference to, with sight set on the door at its end. 

If he waited this long to get to it, then it must be important. That’s what you argue against, anyway – that he likely arranged to complete this task at night when he would be ensured total privacy. How questionable is it, then, that you’re violating that?

You could turn back now, find him later instead. Yet today marks your final day before the deadline he set expires, and you want at least one more chance to try should this attempt turn to shit. 

The right glove of Miguel’s suit disappears, digital projection flickering to white as the nanotech retracts into his palm. You notice the act only because his fingers soon flick out, a key pinched between them. It’s red and patterned with the same arithmetic lines as his ensemble.

Smart. 

Once he arrives at the door, he uses the pass to unlock it. It comes open with an effortless swish, sliding completely open to allow him access. He lingers for too long, though, and you press closer to the wall in case he suspects your pursuit. He doesn’t turn around though, instead hitting a setting on his watch that causes the entryway to slip shut. 

Before you can catch up. Before you can sneak in.

Your heart drops. 

Floundering, you run to pull at the lock. It doesn’t budge. Nor are there any other ways in, the narrow hall composed solely of this door at one end and the elevator on the other. You can’t go in by any manner except pass through, and with every slap of your hand on the wall, it becomes increasingly apparent that your powers won’t miraculously emerge like they have before.

Nails digging into a fist, you reassure yourself that not all is lost if you give up now. It’s an unofficial loss, made outside the scrutiny of anyone besides yourself. And though you’ll kick yourself to sleep over being so inept in your own abilities, at least he won’t come to the same conclusion. That’s what matters – doesn’t it? His opinion of you.

Giving a final, aggravated sigh, you’re about to relent when you catch sight of it – a silver lining, adjacent to you. Levelled on the same plane as the door, separated only by the right wall of the hallway, opened to the high atmosphere air – a casement, hinged to a window much like the one you ogle at it through. Leading into the room he just entered. Just a short jump and swing away. 

You shiver at the notion, first instinct loud and conclusive. No. Absolutely, positively not. It’s a ‘jump’ over a hundred-story fall. Even if you manage to crawl out of the first opening with your sanity intact, you’re nowhere near experienced enough to make it to the second. Unless–

Your belly lurches with pre-emptive nausea, and you sink to your knees to massage it without retching. You can’t believe you actually consider the reckless idea, sitting with your poor excuses for web shooters, triggers flat on your palm, looking far flimsier than anything you could trust. Your refusal to walk on walls comes back with a vengeance, laughing in mocking echoes at the simple obstacle you can’t overcome. 

Whispering, you try your last alternate. “Lyla.” 

There’s a lag before she appears, glasses skewed upon her nose. “Huh.” 

“Do you…” You rasp, swallowing the bile surging up the back of your throat. “D’you think you could, y’know–” When words fail, you gesture to the locked door with the cock of your head. 

“Oh-ho-ho. No can do. I’ve done a lotta favours for you sister, but this is crossing the line.” 

“Okay. Okay, sorry for asking.” Your chest tightens. The corridor narrows. The shapes on the carpet warp to resemble the plunge off the end of a skyscraper. You have to ask to abate the panic. “What’s in there, anyway?” 

“Find out on your own accord.” She doesn’t take the bait, fur coat rising with a brief shrug of her shoulders. “Good luck.” 

And in a blink, you’re on your own again. 

You must sit like that for half an hour, rocking back and forth in anxiety that refuses to settle. It gnaws on your energy until the passion depletes, draining out, leaving you to wallow as an empty husk. Every so often, you press your cheek to the cool glass spanning the side of the hallway, wishing the problem had magically amended itself since the last you checked. But the ground remains where it is, bottoming endlessly down below, and so does the window to the room, built just out of reach. 

Of your concerns, there’s a resounding question that doesn’t quite fit. Its edges and curves search for a spot to click into place, but you aren’t able to find it – not until you give the piece further contemplation. 

Why haven’t you left?

If you’d given up hope, then why haven’t you gathered your wounded pride and salvaged the rest of your night? You could’ve been in bed by now, cosy under a heavy comforter, ruminating over your failure in a safer setting. Yet you’ve chosen to stay and prolong your torture, egged on by the reminder of what you couldn’t do. 

You’re not waiting for him to emerge. That hadn’t even occurred to you. 

(And a tiny part of you already knows the answer, keening by the base of your skull. It just takes some work to admit.)

It’s that stupid, idiotic, dangerous philosophy he’s instilled in you. The ideology that gets heroes killed. The conviction that marks scars on their body or gives them the peace of mind when walking on walls and swinging across heights that could permanently ruin them. 

What had you spread out underneath him, cupping your knees while his tongue lathered your wet cunt. Or when his fingers shoved into your pants, scissoring you open to the seconds on his stopwatch. The thing that’s kept you coming, fighting, over and over again despite receiving the brunt end of your endeavours every time. 

Resilience.

You’ve internalised it. You’re here, where you wouldn't have stayed a month ago. And it’s forcing you to face the second lesson he’s been trying to teach; a value impossibly scarier. Courage. 

You know you won’t rest until you embody that too. 

Rising, you take your first step towards it by unlatching the fastener to the window in front of you. The pane upturns, pitching open like a gluttonous mouth. Frigid wind rushes in, biting at your cheeks. You breathe in the crisp freshness of it and ignore the threat it might pose to your welfare. Pessimism is a hulking burden. It’ll only weigh you down.

The rest follow in a clumsy sequence. 

You sit on the edge, sticking the soles of your shoes onto the wall outside. It fixes in that newly familiar way, like how it does when you’re upside down, sucking onto the perpendicular surface. You don’t stand up despite the mild relief that washes through you, though – you understand now not to let your guard down until the task is done.

Keeping a firm grip around the window for stability, you scoot off the support it provides your bottom. You’re hanging out, posted on the external side of the hallway. There’s nothing but air underneath you. You don’t linger to process it, moving on to the next operation before dread knocks you out. 

Tapping the button on your free hand, you test your web shooter one last time. Once to equip, twice to release. Once to equip, twice to realise. 

When you sling it to the adjacent slot, your gaze is bolted forward. Never, ever down. Nothing exists, you cry to yourself, nothing exists but this small jump. And the web holds firm when you tug on it. You’ve tested the fluid against your own mass. It’s held strong. You’d have to be a novice scientist to have overlooked that; and you’ll be fine. 

Nothing exists beyond this small jump. 

(Except for maybe the cosmic forces you pray to. You invoke God, the sun, the stars. Even the moon, who gently glows down on you. It hits you, then, that you’re the closest you’ve ever been to any of them. 

That verity reassures you just enough.) 

You jump forward.

Tears bud on the corners of your eyes, scleras burning with the whip of air, sinuses scorching alongside it. Your organs hurtle to your feet, and your heart beats like bullets to your chest. It’s a vile, sickening sensation – akin only to the paralysing disbelief after finding out you’d brought an early apocalypse to your world. Nothing has required more bravery from you than enduring it, but…

You don’t fall. 

In fact, your angling is so flawless that you glide into the space between the window frame and casement. The grace ends there, however, as momentum throws you hard onto a piece of furniture, toppling over it to smack head-first on the tiled floor. Pain blazes up your shoulder, jerked back by the web you forgot to release. You blink to diffuse the black dotting your vision, slowly coming to terms with the havoc you’ve wrought. The commotion had made way more noise than intended, and it seems you aren’t the only one who thinks so. 

Sure enough, the light in the next room flicks off. It’s a choice made with the careful contemplation of a trained hero; if Miguel suspects an intruder, then he knows that he’d have the upper hand in the dark, within this space he’s far more familiar with. You feel around for the seat you tripped over, crawling behind it for cover. 

As your vision adjusts, you’re able to make out the advent of his faint silhouette. His pants are looser than that of his suit, his arms bare – judging by the fleshy colour, hardly illuminated by the ambient lighting outside. The change would confuse you had you not been honed in on your challenge, reconciling stealth as you calculate your next course of�� action. The pound-force per square inch of your splitter-web function isn’t high enough to shoot across the distance you want – that being the expanse between you – so either you move closer, or he does. 

The circumstance mirrors how things played out in this lab. Although this time, he creeps away, cautiously navigating the space with a prowess that can only be explained with night vision. Perhaps it’s a part of his spider-granted abilities, or otherwise he frequents the foyer often enough to know when to side-step to avoid incoming furniture. 

Unfortunately for you, you don’t have either luxury. Thrill rockets within you, striking every nerve like a pinball game gone wild, fuelled by the fortitude your indiscreet stunt afforded you. He’s taking far too long to search his surroundings; at the rate it’s going, you’ll have lost your will before he comes close enough to wrestle onto the floor. You decide it’s much too intoxicating a sentiment to sacrifice, then, settling on the former bet. 

Move closer it is. 

You don’t run at him like you’re inclined to do. That hadn’t resulted in your favour the last time. Instead, you stay on all fours, bound inching in the opposite direction he takes on. You use the bulky chattels surrounding you to escape his notice, ducking behind the shaded shapes until you’re mere inches away. 

The web shooters practically hum on your flesh now, mimicking your excitement as you point them to the angles intersecting his arms and torso. You hope your aim is as good in this less perilous scenario, the ploy contingent on your initial shot. Binding his extremities together would reduce possible scrimmages to zero, which buffs your chances of pinning him down to a pretty percentage.

And you make sure he spots you before you fire. 

(Nothing satisfies like the slight widening of his eyes when he realises it’s you.)

The bombardment allows him no room to escape, discharged in every possible way as you run a three-sixty around his thrashing form. Your webs secure his arms, yes – but also his legs to one another, and his hands flush to his hips. For extra measure, you even go so far as to switch into long-form shots to wrap the final product once, twice, thrice, so he’s adequately swaddled and cuffed. 

You don’t know how he’s still standing once you’re done. It can be seen as rubbing it in at this point when you tip him onto his back – but really, you just want to hit every aim he’d set out for you.

Within the next week. Check. 

Sneak up on me. Check. 

Anywhere, any time of day. Check. 

Staple me to the ground for upwards of three seconds. 

As you crouch down to straddle his abdomen, you count. Check. Check. 

Miguel’s face is hard to read, shrouded and pursed in an indecipherable lour. You bite your lip with the appreciation that, despite his vague disapproval, your pride is still wholly valid. 

“I won.” You croak, voice hoarse with misuse. 

He shakes his head, slowly, then quicker when you combat it with an eager nods. 

“I won. I won. I wo–” 

“Web-shooters were never part of the challenge. ” 

“Call it ingenuity,” You smirk, tapping on the metal contraptions. “You should add it to your list of traits befitting a hero.” 

“Let me go.” He growls.

“Not until you admit it.” 

“Let me go.” Firmer. It's smouldered by a fire you can’t locate the source of, for all that his tone rings familiar. 

“C’mon, O’hara. I can see how badly you want to cut me the credit.” Arching down, you only mean for your next bribe to be heard more clearly, yet your chin brushes against his and his cologne hits you like a brick wall. Tension crackles in the same way it did then – when you’d been at the wheel of a cop car, hurtling towards a fate that’d always been coming for you. Promising ruin. Promising change in the sense that things could never be the same again. “It’s as much of a victory for you as my mentor, I think.” 

“Hardly, seeing as you followed me home.” 

(Home.

Of course it doesn’t go in the way you expect, though. Nothing ever does.)

“Wh–” All of a sudden, things start to make a whole lot more sense. You look around like the revelation will paint your setting in new colours. “You live at work?” 

“I own the building.”

Your bravado shrivels to a minute thing, becoming a fraction of what it was. Just like that, he captures the upper hand again, all the while still dormant underneath you. The sun – you remind yourself. Always the sun to your comet. 

“Alright, well.” You mumble, nipping the soft tissue of your cheeks. “I still won.” Though the proclamation holds foolish meaning now; not at all worthy of the lengths you went to. 

Miguel’s hips thrust up, jostling your thighs, which remain pressed on him. Your core keels with the movement.

“Let me go.” He emphasises again. You shift to do exactly as he says, succumbing to the crushing pressure of your diffidence – only to be interrupted by his continued warning. It’s tricky. Devastating. It stops you right in your tracks, tearing the fibres of your chest apart with mad violence. Yet the implosion is only as powerful as the various fantasies that’ve gone into this very moment, and you can only attribute your reaction to your depraved self and not the filthy words that exit his mouth.

In truth, you have to hold on to his leg to make sure you heard him right. 

“Lest I change my mind about fucking you silly, you bold little thing.”

chapter fourteen

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[thebestsetter]

A never ending cycle

A/n: this is completely based on a fic of a friend of mine. If you're a portuguese speaker, you should really check her works, they're amazing! Her user's @esposa_do_shidou on tiktok!

~ Tw: This is kinda angsty and has some cuss words (use of the f word 2 times) and violence. If you're sensible about any of these topics, I suggest you don't read this

He didn't deserve this, she was sure of it. Even though he could be a little annoying sometimes and really liked to mess with her, Kaiser was a nice guy. He was familiar with suffering and didn't want anyone to go through what he went through as a child, and a person who lived what he did didn't deserve to suffer even more. But, as the wise writer Luís de Camões once wrote, sometimes good people go through bad times. And that was exactly what happened to Michael Kaiser.

-Sit still! If you keep moving I won't be able to completely clean the wound - (Name) said while firmly holding his chin and rotating his face, looking for more bruises - I still want to know what happens everytime you come here looking for me. I brushed it off for a long time, but now I'm curious. You always come here with a black eye and at least one new scar. Keep it up and you'll show up without a tooth by next week - she sighed, putting her arms on her lap - I just don't get it. Why won't you tell me? Don't you trust me?

(Name) and Kaiser had been friends for almost 5 years, and lately they've started to follow a routine: every week, at least 2 or 3 times, Kaiser shows up at her door, with more bruises than the last time he went there, so she can take care of him. She rubs alcohol on his wounds and gives him food. He then says goodbye, leaves and returns the same way (if not worse) the next day.

She never asked what happened to him, even though she was dying to know, because she didn't want him to feel pressured to tell her. The girl was sure he'd tell her eventually, but even after 6 months of following this same routine, he never once mentioned anything about what happened when he was out.

-Hm - Kaiser hummed, a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. He knew it wasn't the first time she thought about it. If someone came up to him all bruised, he'd want to at least know what happened to the person, but she never asked him about it. And he was grateful for it. He was grateful for her.

The truth is he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her about his father abusing him ever since he was born. He wanted to tell her about his need to steal to survive and tell her that her food was actually the first homemade thing he ever ate, and he felt like crying everytime she cared for him, because no one showed him that much care before. But he was scared. He was afraid that when she found out about the robberies, she would be scared of him and wouldn't want to see him anymore. He'd lose her. And it's not like he didn't know the feeling of losing something (besides his soccer ball, he never had anything to lose anyway), but he knew she was the only good thing in his life, and he couldn't even contemplate the thought of losing her without his stomach turning all over and his eyes suddenly became wet.

-Really Kaiser, you can't keep coming here if it's going to be like this - she started, getting up from the chair she was sitting on - I'm saying this because I care about you, and I want to help you through the hard times.

-You can't help me - he said, looking at the floor.

-Maybe I can! If you just tell me what is going on, I can help you!

-My life is none of your business - he said, also getting up from his chair and facing her - I already told you you can't do anything to help, so maybe just shut your fucking mouth and stop being so nosy. - he didn't know why he got so mad at her at that moment, but it was too late to take his words back.

-Mihya, I like you. I don't want to force you to tell me about what happens when you leave my house, but I want to help you. Please, tell me.

-Shut up.

-Michael, it would make this whole situation easier for the both of us.

-Shut up.

-Please Kaiser, I just want you to trus-

-I SAID SHUT UP!

A loud noise echoed across the room, and (Name) slowly brought her hand to her now red and swolen cheek. Meanwhile, Kaiser looked at his hand that was in the air and had just hit the person he cared about most. He was still processing the whole situation, but he was sure of one thing: he regretted what he did.

-I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I-I… - he started, stepping closer to (Name) so he could hug her. But she took a step back and gosh, should a single action hurt one's heart so much? Because Kaiser was sure he heard his heart breaking when he looked at her form: she was cowering with fear, flinching everytime he tried to get closer to her so he could apologize for what he did. The thing he feared the most came true: she was scared of him. Terrified, even.

-Get out of my house - she muttered, still holding her cheek.

-W-what? - he asked. He heard what she said, but didn't want to believe it: she couldn't really be kicking him out of her house, could she?

-I told you to GET OUT! - she shouted at him with tears in her eyes, and Kaiser felt his own tears starting to form and travel his cheeks and chin before wetting the floor underneath him.

He really wanted to stay. Hell, he wanted to get on his knees and beg her not to leave him. Tell her that he meant nothing he said or did. Tell her that she was the best thing that had happened to him, cause she showed him what love was. But he felt like he wasn't worthy of it. He wasn't worthy of her.

So, with one last look inside the house he grew accostumed with, he left.

It was probably for the best anyway: you know what people say, the abused becomes the abuser, right? If he got too close to her, he would hurt her more than he already did. He was dangerous. He was just like his father.

Hugging his sides, Kaiser started to walk "home". The only thing that could be heard were his sobs and hiccups. There wasn't anyone around, but even if there were people around him, he was too sad and broken to care. He just knew one thing: he fucked up. But he was stubborn, and he was going to fix this no matter what it took. He cared too much for (Name) to just give her up like that, so he wouldn't back down without fighting.

#bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk #michael kaiser #bllk kaiser #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock kaiser #kaiser x reader #blue lock angst #bllk angst #angst

[neoraso]

on your special day | pwb

for @fleurlia angel ♡ i hope you had a wonderful birthday, sorry i'm late!

wonbin was an incredibly affectionate and attentive boyfriend who never let you doubt his love. he didn't always use words but you didn't mind, his actions spoke for themselves. it was your first birthday you got to spend with him and though you both didn't bring it up too often, you could tell it was definitely on his mind. he kept slipping it into conversation randomly in the weeks leading up to your day

"what did you do for your last birthday?"

"is there something you really want me to get you?"

"i'll take the day off for you..."

you promised you didn't want anything big, just to spend time with him. stroking your hair and giving you a kiss on the nose he replied, "don't worry i won't throw you a surprise party or anything. i don't want that either..." though you could tell there was more he wanted to say you left the topic alone, not wanting to pressure him.

and so, the day finally came. you woke up early, and to an empty bed to your dismay. laying in bed for a few minutes listening to soft movements coming from the kitchen, you finally willed yourself up out of bed.

shuffling down the hallway to the kitchen you come across a sight that leaves you pouting. wonbin, in a loose tank top and sweats. his long hair wavy and mussed up from sleeping. before you knew it, your feet were dragging you towards him. you placed a palm on his back letting him know you were there, he always said your footsteps were too quiet and would spook him. this time though, he just softly smiled while you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"good morning." he said.

"very good morning, getting to see my angel on my birthday." you replied. "how long have you been up?"

"only an hour before you, i wanted to get cooking. i asked my mom for the recipe... " he said sheepishly , looking down at the pot of seaweed soup.

"hm...it smells right and i trust you chef." you assured him with a playful salute.

he nudged you with his elbow, then signaled with his chin towards your table. "go sit, it'll be ready soon then you can give me an honest review."

"i don't want to leave you though?" you said looking up at him.

"you're making me nervous i'm gonna mess this up and then it's gonna be a bad omen for the rest of the year." he left a kiss on top of your head at this, making it more of an order than a suggestion. as usual, you obeyed, albeit reluctantly, plopping down on your seat. at least you had a better view of him from here, you sneakily snapped a few pictures of him, putting your phone face down as he brought your bowl and spoon . he left for a moment to bring your rice and sides, setting it in front of you. once he finally sat down he turned to you with such an adoring look it made you shy all of a sudden.

"eat up" he said, motioning to the bowl. you got right to it, not doubting his cooking abilities, and you were pleased as usual. "how is it?" he asked quietly, petting your hair and looking at you practically with stars in his eyes.

"oh wonbin...." you started and his face dropped.

"what? is it bad? i thought i followed all the directions she sent me." he went to grab your bowl from you but you stopped him with a laugh. "if you'd let me finish i was gonna say, it's delicious. i can really taste the love" you teased him. luckily, he responded favorably,

"good. i made sure to put extra of that." he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear and ran his fingers down your cheek.

you finished your meal and sat on the counter talking to him as he cleaned up the kitchen- a rare sight, but he whined he just wanted to do you right on your birthday...

you both ended up on the couch. you, in his lap and him, stroking the skin of your legs and pressing soft kisses to your temple.

"was there anything specific you wanted to do today? i made reservations at your favorite restaurant for dinner but we can cancel if you don't want to go ..." he started

"of course i want to go, i'll do anything if it's with you." you replied with a smile, grabbing his hand. he brought your fingers up to his mouth and kissed every single one before continuing.

"do you want your present now or later?"

you felt his earnestness from his eyes and tone and knew how excited (or nervous) he was to give it to you. so you end his suffering with a kiss to his cheek. "i'll take it now"

he tapped your leg so he could get up and came back almost too quickly holding a small box. sitting back down next to you on the couch and presented your gift on his open palms. taking the pink box from him, you undid the bow and opened the top revealing a glistening silver necklace with charm of both of your birthstones linked together.

"if you don't like it we can get something else, i just thought-" he started until you threw your arms around his neck.

"i love it so much bin. can you put it on me?" you said already twisting around and handing him the necklace. you picked up your hair while he clasped it around your neck and kissed the spot after.

"i just thought now you could have something that represents us both. i got a matching bracelet, but i didn't want to wear it yet and ruin the surprise..." he was rambling now so you stopped him with a hand on his wrist, making him look up at you. "i just want this day to be perfect for you. it's our first birthday together..."

you leaned in for a kiss but stopped just before his lips to whisper.

"and it won't be our last."

#사실 내 생일 얼마 안남았다... #my bday is jan 21 ! #riize wonbin #wonbin fluff #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin #riize #riize fluff #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize scenarios #ㅇㅋ 돼쓰

[eldstunga]

Hi! I really love your art! The lines are so bold but the colours so natural that it feels distinct but grounded?? I'm obsessed with the shapes in your work

I was wondering if you had any advice for drawing bodies? Whenever I try it either my proportions are off or an arm ends up looking like a calf or something.

First of all, thank you <3 That's so nice and I think "lines bold, colours natural" is some truly aspirational words to say about my art, I'll strive to be what you say I am <3 I do not, unfortunately, have any great tips on drawing bodies - it's a very wide topic and fundamentally just really bloody hard. I fail horribly 9 times out of 10. How to approach it I think varies a lot with like...HOW you are struggling, and who you are as a person. For proportions and anatomy there are definitely books to look at, and some rules of thumb that can help you - anything from "the shoulders are about 2.5-3 heads wide" through "feet are the same length as the forearm", "elbows are in line with the navel and the navel is two sternums down" etc etc. For me, realising just how big the ribcage actually is and learning how to use that as a unit of measure was a big event (the torso is about two ribcages long). Look at references, Draw over low opacity references and try to look for patterns that help YOU. Like... "Hm, do the shoulders line up with something useful?"

Having a good ref model to double check things helps too. The pen is pointing to about the bottom of the ribcage. But there's also stuff like maybe you're getting too hung up on construction and then it might help more to try to draw from references by ONLY blocking in a silhouette first. This helps me sometimes still:

Or you could be like me, struggle with all of the above and then some - like how to make poses look natural and/or dynamic? Weight distribution is a whole other topic.. gah, it never ends, but it's fun to learn.

Lastly, this took me way too long to realise and I think it should be said: Do not fret too much about STUDYING. The unfair thing is that the better you are at something, the better you will be at actually learning from doing studies and exercises or reading books. We accept this with many other disciplines and sports but rarely art. Mileage is king, and mileage is best gained from having fun and enjoying what you do. If you find studies suffering and frustrating you're probably better off just drawing what you enjoy and fuck it if it isn't "pushing your boundaries" or whatever. Eventually you'll get to the point where studies start to give more than they take, and then you're home free. I'm not gonna recommend a billion resources you likely won't enjoy but here are some things I genuinely found helpful lately: * a physical anatomy model, they're pricy and not necessary but being able to just look at it every now and then, turn it over etc helps. * The "Morpho" series of books, they do not teach anatomy, but they are very useful quick reference books and much more easily digested than most anatomy material. Just try to find a real anatomy book to read once your appetite is up as well.

The zig-zag/Lightning bolt method for arms and legs, fuckin' thing revolutionised how I sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCkmB030GpQ

Gottfried Bammes "The Complete guide to Anatomy for Artists and Illustrators" This thing is insane, it's from the 50's and like 600 pages long. You could absolutely kill someone with it, but a lot of the pages are more philosophical or art history you can skip and despite its age and fear factor this dude writes in a witty, clever and just wonderful way that I've seen nowhere else. Fantastic photos. By far, FAR the best anatomy book I've ever seen. It's not a book I'd recommend for someone starting out, I would not have been able to digest it like four years ago, but once you get to a certain point it's amazing.

That's a lot, uhhh, feel free to ask me for more specific tips this was a bit of a rant. Hope some of it was useful!

#art tips #.txt #asks #sorry its such a wide topic I dunno where to start

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Cliffhanger Ahead

~

Part 15 - Mated Bliss

In the week that Xilä and Neteyam moved into their new home together, their lives had quickly settled into a comfortable routine.

Xi would easily say she'd been enjoying every moment of domestic bliss with her husband.

With every kiss and touch, every sweet moment they shared, even their bickering disputes- he was the best mate she could ever hope for.

Sometimes, when she sat back and really thought about it all, she felt giddy, finding it difficult to contain her happiness.

Eywa, was she blessed.

~

Neteyam groaned. Wiping sleep from his face, he blinked awake. Sitting up with a start when he realized the hour, he cursed, "Shit."

He was late.

Due to meet Tasam at the border before first light that morning, he mentally berated himself for staying up so late. It was his own greedy self to blame really and the culprit over said greed laid right beside him with her tail entwined with his.

Yet still with an uncontrollable smile, he scooted forward to lean over and stare down at his sleeping mate. She had evidently rolled away from him at some point.

"Xi, sweetheart. I'm late. I have to get ready to leave now," he whispered, kissing her exposed shoulder blade.

He leaned up on an arm, peeling away the blanket that covered her bare form, before combing back the loose, soft strands of hair to see her sleeping face.

Her hair smelled intoxicating. She had washed it last night with whatever new made up concoction D'avi had gifted her, and while Xi's intention was to re-braid it, Neteyam had gotten to her first, distracting her from the task.

"Baby, I'm going, okay?" he whispered, having every intention of getting up to leave, even though he further curled himself around her whilst nosing at her ear and down her cheek.

Xilä sighed softly, stretching as she slowly woke. A face nuzzled into her neck from behind as she yawned, while a large palm smoothed up the curve of her hip, dipping into her waist before spanning her ribs. Its journey ended when it began to fondle her left breast.

"'Teyam?" she mumbled groggily, squirming backwards, gravitating to the heat of his body.

He hummed against her skin, peppering tender kisses wherever he could reach. "Don't forget my mother will be coming by this morning," he reminded softly. "She's excited to finally spend a whole day with you."

That had her much more awake now, because she had actually forgotten. Xi rubbed her eyes and asked in a hoarse scratchy voice, "Did you ask Kiri if she would come too?"

"Hm?" He was very much distracted by now. His hand had wandered down the length of her body to inspect the mess between her legs.

Testing to see if she was still drenched from last night's events, he was quite glad to feel there hadn't been much leakage.

"Kiri," she emphasized, breaking him from a naughty fantasy. "When you saw her yesterday, did you remember to ask her to be my buffer for- ooh Ow!" she gasped, hissing with a pained wince when two thick digits suddenly entered her.

Neteyam froze. "What? It hurts?" he asked, easing his fingers out to peer over her in worry.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm sore but it's fine," she assured him quietly as her tail wound tighter around his in comfort. He always got worked up if he ever crossed a line with her in bed, she realized. "Just go gentle."

"No, if you're-" he cut off when she shot him a look. Hesitating, he asked, "Are you sure?"

At her reassuring smile and nod, he relaxed again and continued, moving far more gently than before. He twirled slow circles around her clit with the pads of his fingers, then carefully dipped a finger in knuckle deep.

"Teyam, did you find out?" she asked again, squirming from the sensation between her legs.

Extremely sensitive, puffy and still filled with his seed, her breath hitched when he began to sink in and out of her entrance, testing her readiness this time.

Neteyam snickered. "Yes, babe. I did ask, but Kiri said you don't need her, and that you'll be fine- which by the way I agree with. But don't worry Tuk overheard and invited herself. So you'll have company after all- something about a girls day..." he mumbled.

She let out a breathless, "Oh okay," as the single digit stretching her continued its pace- fingering her until she was ready to accept another one.

Two fingers working her now, every pump caused the insides of her thighs to become painted in the come she'd been stuffed with.

She sighed, giving in to the pleasure. It felt good. So fucking good. Her head collided with his shoulder when she arched backwards and he hummed his approval since the shift seemed to give him more skin to attack with his lips.

Xi rocked against his fingers greedily. She was a squelching mess- his seed mixed with her own arousal. An exasperated whine escaped her when he abruptly stopped, slipping his hand away.

Neteyam gripped under her knee, hooking it over his own to spread her wide. Sticky coated fingers trailing over her skin, smearing his come wherever he touched.

"Look at me," he ordered as his thick digits sank into her again, fucking her at a leisured pace. Filling her up yet giving her nothing at the same time.

"No teasing today," she whined, rolling her hips pathetically, chasing after more.

"Then look at me and I won't tease."

The moment she locked eyes with him, he withdrew his hand from between her thighs again, making her curse in protest. His gaze bore into hers when he pressed those two fingers against her lips, prompting her to open. She held his wrist still as she sucked them clean, humming at the taste of them both, eyes glinting seductively.

Neteyam's pupils dilated and he groaned at the sight. He was fighting the powerful need to devour her- to fuck her ruthlessly as she sobbed and begged him to make her come.

"Tsaheylu, sweetheart," he said huskily, dragging her hips downward so she was closer to his throbbing dick. Tauntingly, he rubbed his tip against her clit.

Xi felt drunk off of his affections. She wanted to scream in frustration. Her being overly sensitive from last night, made his usual teasing exceedingly torturous.

Quickly grappling her queue from behind, she swung it over her shoulder, panting in anticipation as Neteyam did the same.

"Good girl," he praised, sagging against her the instant the bond was made.

He ducked his head with a commanding, "Kiss me," and claimed her mouth as he lined himself up, sinking deep between her folds.

Moving slowly, he stretched her, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. He pressed down gently on the bulge of her stomach where he sat, amazed every time he felt and saw the outline of himself there. He savored the snug fit inside of her, warm and wet and squeezing him just right.

Xi moaned against his lips, releasing an unhappy whine when made no effort to move.

Breaking the kiss, he grinned wickedly at the scowl she shot him. He loved how needy and desperate she would get for him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and pouty lips- and her eyes...fucking hell, he was done for.

Unable to stay still a moment longer, he rolled his hips, taking hold of hers, controlling her to his liking.

Their lovemaking was slow and sweet that morning. A far cry from the wild, sweaty night they'd shared a mere few hours ago.

Neteyam's movements were lazy, almost as if he had all the time in the world to fuck her. He sensually licked and sucked at her neck, practically feasting on her skin. His tail had abandoned hers- it was now wrapped around the thigh hooked over his, keeping her spread wide.

A nagging part in Xi's mind knew she should care that he would be late for his duties but she couldn't find it within herself. The pleasure was too much, too good, too addicting.

"Faster," she pleaded, hands fisting in their sheets with a wanton whine. "Faster, plea-"

"No. Just like this," he said, denying her request. "Sorry baby, you're sore, remember?" he teased, slowing his pace even further. "You said to be gentle. I'm being gentle."

She wanted to cry, his rhythm was tormenting. About to curse at him for using her own words against her, he suddenly pinched hard on her nipple and a moan escaped her- mingled with pain and pleasure, it echoed around their tent.

Neteyam sank deep into her, ever slowly dragging back so that just the tip of him sat against her slit before delving back in at the same speed, over and over and over, hitting all the right places inside of her.

Body quivering from the pleasure, Xi mewled. She felt like she was going insane, it was too much, too intense.

The build up was torturously good, but yet it wasn't enough. She wanted more- she wanted to come- she needed it.

"I can't- Teyam, please, please, p-"

"You close, sweetheart?" he asked, nipping her pointed ear. His breath was labored, and it was taking everything within in him not to flip his mate onto her stomach and fuck her hard.

The position was also killing his back since he had to practically contort himself around her because of how small she was.

"Mmhmm. So-so close, but I need-" she broke off into a sob.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked in faux concern, tightening his hold on her when she began to squirm.

"More- ugh. Teyam, make me come- Oh Eywa!" she cried when he changed his angle.

She turned to peer up at him, tears welled in her eyes as she bit hard on her bottom lip. "Please," she begged, reaching downward to touch herself. But before she could, he snagged her wrist away, shooting her disapproving look.

Xilä clutched a nearby pillow. Stuffing it into her face, she released a muffled, ragged scream. She was on the cusp, she could feel the rupture right there. All she needed was just a little more.

Finally taking pity on his poor mate, and on the verge of bursting himself, Neteyam gave in.

The hand that had been playing with her breasts- pinching and rolling her nipples, sailed downward to work her clit.

Xi panted and babbled incomprehensibly as he began to rub tight circles on her swollen nub. Her body was tense and shaking, feverishly awaiting the impending crash of her orgasm.

Her hand shot towards his moving wrist, squeezing desperately as her walls clenched around him, causing him to growl against her cheek.

Neteyam came first with a guttural groan, which pushed her right over the edge as she too came with a silent cry- body tense as she snapped. Almost on the verge of pain when she exploded, her thighs trembled- everything trembled as heat licked her inside out.

He continued to lazily thrust into her, pushing his seed as far in as possible, until he couldn't physically continue, limbs gone limp in protest.

They were both panting and spent as they laid still for a couple minutes, gathering their energy, basking in the aftermath.

Neteyam felt like sludge, he felt as if she'd taken everything from him, leaving him weak and boneless. Meanwhile Xi couldn't move a muscle as she recovered from her brain numbing high. She closed her eyes, fatigue fighting her.

It wasn't until Neteyam began to move her, did she rouse from a light doze.

"You're late," she chastised with a blissful smile as she settled more comfortably into the cocoon of his arms, feeling coming back to her numb toes and legs.

He made an offended sound. "Well good morning to you too," he laughed, gently easing his dick out of her. "I just gave you an orgasm. And a good fucking one at that. Are you really complaining?" he teased as he set her thigh down and rolled her onto her stomach to brandish a playful smack to her ass.

She squealed, gasping when he leaned over and bit the flesh he'd just smacked. Huffing at his antics, she complied when he manhandled her into his arms again- front facing him this time.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" he asked, brushing her bed hair from her face. "You were quiet," he murmured with a frown, eyes tracing her features as if they would tell him what was wrong.

"You mean I wasn't screeching at the top of my lungs like a mountain banshee as usual?" she smiled, voice still soft. "I'm fine, promise. My throat's still a bit sore after last night," she admitted with a blush. "It hurts whenever I talk- but hey, it's nothing a bit of brewed char'mill leaf can't help," she quickly assured when she saw his horrified expression.

He grew panicked at her meaning. Spluttering, he said, "What? Oh shit, Xi. I'm sorry. I- fuck, I should've been more caref-"

Tugging him down by his nape, she shushed him, silencing him with a kiss. Lips and tongue forcing his squawk of protest away, halting his distress.

"Handsome, it's going to be light soon. You should get going," she suggested when they broke apart, trying to distract him from the topic.

"Xilä," he said seriously, cupping the back of her neck, trailing a thumb down her throat. He had fucked her mouth last night not realizing how rough he'd been. Guilt tore at him.

"Stop fretting," she chastised. "I'm already nervous about spending an entire day alone with your mother. You're not helping with that guilty expression of yours right now. It's too early and I'm too tired to make you stop worrying. I told you I'm fine, okay?" she said, forcing a funny looking smile on his face by pushing up the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.

"Fine- but say something next time. Please," he stated firmly, unmoving from the discussion.

'He was so bossy sometimes,' she thought, holding in a snicker. For his sake, she nodded in agreement anyway.

It would be too difficult to try to explain how she'd very much enjoyed what they had done last night, and that she was simply feeling the after effects. 

Disconnecting their queues, he untangled himself from her, and leaped out of their hammock. He hurriedly cleansed his body, chewing on fresh van'eela bark as he washed only the necessary parts of himself for now, before throwing on his warrior garb.

Xi eventually got up too, wrapping a woven blanket around her bare waist as she headed to their kitchenette.

She cleaned her hands first before putting her Qla'ira root tea on the fire. While it boiled she then began to leaf wrap a few thick slices of HoneyCornbread and some tender leftover seared fish.

Grabbing an empty water pouch, she met him at the tent's threshold where he was securing his knives to his chest and hip.

"Have I told you the guys are jealous of all the meals you pack me?" he asked, accepting his breakfast with a smile and a sweet kiss, bending to tuck it and his water pouch into his riding satchel. "All of a sudden the unmated ones want a wife now," he chuckled.

She laughed. "Should I start packing extra then?"

"No. You only get to spoil me," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "I've got a meeting later today, so we'll try for the hunt to not take too long."

"Be safe," she said, hugging him around the waist as he hooked up his comm device to his neck and ear. "Who's your hunting partner? Tasam again?"

He nodded, adjusting his visor, taming down a few askew braids.

Since the increase in palulukan attacks, there was a temporary ban on all solo activities outside of the perimeter of Home Camp- including solo hunts. Xi was relieved to hear Tasam would be accompanying her mate. He was sure to have Neteyam's back, out past the borders.

"You smell like me," he voiced, bending to nuzzle and lick at her neck. "Am I dripping down your thighs yet?" he asked, reaching through the flap of the blanket to drag his palm up her slick coated skin.

"Neteyam!" she laughed, mildly scandalized, stopping his hand before he made contact with her core. "Go already you skxawng. You are making me blush."

"You are pretty when you blush and I like when you smell like me. People know you are mine," he said, swiping a thumb along her swollen bottom lip.

Her blush deepened down to the tips of her flushed, exposed chest. "And you say you aren't barbaric," she teased.

He shrugged as he stepped away, swinging his bag on his back- the strap crossing his chest, bow in hand. "I am but a man who loves his woman, is all."

Xi internally swooned. "You should go now before I seduce you to stay. You keep saying things that make me feel needy, husband."

Neteyam laughed. A bubbling sound disrupted his response however.

His smile dropped and he pulled a face at his offending enemy when he glanced over her shoulder and saw the little pot on the fire, boiling. He could smell the fragrant scent of Qla'ira root from where he stood.

Clearing his throat and not meeting her eyes he said, "Hey um, if you're still sore, you should go lay down in that position I told you about the other day...you know the one with your hips in the air and the pillow under you? It's supposed to be a really good stretch."

Xilä snorted at her mate's subtlety. Hooking a finger into his belt, she tugged him close again- fronts pressing, bare breasts brushing his upper abs. "Ah the position, riiiight...you mean the one that humans use in order to aid in conceiving little ones?" she asked in faux confusion.

His jaw ticked at being found out, and Xi thought the whole thing was entirely entertaining. It was honestly incredibly cute how hard he tried.

"Nice try handsome," she said sweetly. "Now go, Tasam's probably furious that you've kept him so long."

"Fine," he said sourly, stealing a final kiss with a grumpy muffled, "love you,"before raising the flap to head out.

~

After breakfast, Xi hummed as she did a quick tidy of their home.

There wasn't really much to do, but the thick pelt lining their hammock was disgusting after numerous rounds of lovemaking, so she stripped it and put on a new one.

When she finished, she got herself ready for the day and took her time to braid her hair, making sure to put back Neteyam's gifted beads.

Her braiding skill had improved by far. For the most part, Tuk and D'avi loved to style her hair for her but Xi had to learn. Salveen had told her Omatikaya females usually braided their mates' hair once bonded. So Xi of course wanted to learn for Neteyam...and maybe too for their future children when the time came.

"Xilä," called an all too familiar gruff voice from outside her tent. "Are you there?"

Xi's humming ceased. She then scrambled to make her way to the entrance. Peaking out, she saw her father standing at the base of the steps leading to the tent. Her shoulders slumped in relief when she noticed he was guarded by three male Na'vi, all armed with guns.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping out onto the landing, peering down at him in uncertainty.

T'shteyo's eyes narrowed at her response before schooling his face into something more uncharacteristically sincere. "It's been a while...I was badly injured. I thought you'd come visit me..."

When she gave no response he asked, "Won't you invite me in?"

Xi observed him, taking in how different he looked from the last time she saw him two months ago. Two months ago. So much had happened in her life since then. She was a wife now- she was no longer tied to him.

Her father looked good however. Well fed and healthy for someone who was rumored to be on his deathbed. The lingering bruises brandishing his body were the only tells he'd been in a fight.

A fleeting flash of guilt pierced her for not caring or even thinking about him during that time but the phantom ache of her wrist was the reminder she needed to not give a shit.

"Xilä?"

Blinking out of her reverie she shook her head. "No. I'm not going to invite you in," she said, hiding the tremor of her hands by folding her arms. "What do you want?"

He sighed, clearly unhappy with her response yet his face remained passive. "I'm being exiled tomorrow...I came to say- I don't know," he frowned, seeming to have trouble putting his words together. "Those two months of solitude gave me much to think about...I should have done some things differently...it could have been better. We could have been happy."

Xi stared, fidgeting ceased. 'Was he trying to apologize? No. He was capable of no such thing,' she reminded herself.

"Say something," he said.

"What would you like me to say?"

He looked taken aback by that.

"Would you like me to hug you goodbye? Wish you safe travels and tell you that I will miss you? I wish I could. I wish it hadn't come to this."

"It doesn't. If you ask them to let me stay-"

"I can't do that," she said with a frown, cutting him off.

"Can't? Or won't?" he spat, showing her a glimpse of his inner monster for a split second. His features quickly morphed back into that ugly polite expression of his that had her unnerved.

Xilä said nothing.

"It's fine," he scoffed. "What's done is done. I'll be going, I guess."

"Father, wait..." she said, and his head flickered back to her, pausing his departure. "I truly do wish you well and...thank you," she said softly, surprising him, "for bringing us here. For taking me with you. I gained a home and happiness...and I pray you find the same thing one day."

T'shteyo's lips curled into a smile. It felt foreign seeing him look so sincere. He nodded at her once in parting before motioning to the guards he was ready to leave. And without another word, without another glance, he left.

Xilä released the breath she'd been holding as she watched him walk away. This would be the last time she ever saw him, she realized. She searched her inner being for some form of sadness, but there was none.

'This is good,' she thought.

Her father being gone meant she could finally move on without that lingering nagging reminder that he was still around.

This would be a fresh start, not only for her but for him too.

~

By the time Neytiri and Tuk showed up, Xilä had gotten a grip on her emotions.

The duo had arrived with a basket full of goodies and an announcement by an overly excited Tuk, that they'd be spending the day out at a nearby glade.

Although Xi was originally a wreck of nerves at the prospect of spending the day with her mother-in-law, she quickly realized there was no need to. Neytiri was easy going and quite lovely company to be honest.

The day spent together with the Sully females was enjoyable. They picnicked near a waterfall where other roaming clusters of friends and families milled about as well. Their conversation flowed from topic to topic with ease and Xi felt relaxed and carefree as they lounged.

Tuk deserted them at some point, choosing to chase after fluttering woodsprites. She grew bored of those too then trotted off to dip her feet in the pool of rippling water where a few others were also doing the same and Xi and Neytiri watched her with matching smiles as a peaceful silence washed over them.

"Xi," Neytiri, called gently, breaking the quiet between them. Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you tell me about your mother?"

Words eluded Xilä from the sudden question and Neytiri, picking up on her shock, was quick to calm her.

"It is only of course if you want to. I don't mean to pry- well I do actually but- When I asked before...Sal and Neteyam both said it was not their story to tell...I simply wish to know."

Awkwardly shifting under her in-law's gaze and feeling her throat tighten, Xi avoided her stare.

"What would you like to know?" she croaked.

Neytiri laid a palm over her hand in comfort. "Where is she?"

"Gone."

"Gone...gone where? Why? Did- did your father send her away."

Xilä shrugged. "In his own way, maybe he did...He has never been a kind man, but over time he became worse. My mother- I think there was only so much she could take. Sometimes it felt like he was rubbing off on her- she'd always push me hard in my studies...but sometimes was cruel."

Xi took a breath before continuing. "There were plans to escape- months of planning. I never told my father because I thought-"

Staring out unseeingly, Xi swallowed hard. "My mother and a small group stole away one night and I thought- I thought she'd take me with her. I saw when she snuck away. I tried to run after her, but she...she told me to stay."

Neytiri's brows narrowed.

"She told me to remember everything she'd taught me...and then she just...left." Xilä blinked rapidly trying to tame the sting of her eyes. "She didn't even look back...not once."

"She left you," Neytriri said, voice laced in a quiet rage. "She chose to leave without you?"

Xi nodded and that seemed to irk the mother even more.

"Where is she now? Do you know?"

"The Wetlands maybe. Rumors said they went to the Hulanta clan. I don't know for sure."

Neytiri scoffed, glancing away. "She left you," she muttered to herself again, jaw jutting in fury as she pursed her lips. "She left her only child."

Xilä would bet that her mother-in-law was probably mentally cursing her mother. The thing was, she hadn't even told her the whole story- just the gist of it. And the fact that Xi hadn't even told her everything, she felt touched by Neytiri's reaction all the same.

The night she told Sal and Jxo everything about her past, Xi was in shambles after. It was a long emotional night for them all, ending when Jxo left the tent without comment- angry tears and silent outrage rolling off of him in waves.

Meanwhile Sal sobbed hysterically as if all what Xilä had said had physically hurt her- had physically caused her pain.

Neteyam had found out the story in bits and pieces, through scattered conversations during their training days.

From since early on in their friendship he'd had a knack for getting her to open up. And although most times he'd be quiet and brooding after she'd share something new about her past, he never made her feel bad over it.

If anything, he'd constantly remind her of how strong she was, that she was safe, that she was never going back there.

"Over his dead body," was what he'd say.

And Mo'at. Well Mo'at was the first soul she'd ever told. Tsahìk was the first person to hold her while she cried as she spewed the truth. And though Xi had seen a crack in the elder's demeanor, Mo'at was strong- she showed Xi true strength.

"Thank you for telling me...you didn't have to, but I'm glad you did. Being a mother, deep down I needed to know," she confessed, tone soft as squeezed Xilä's hand again, comforting as best she could. "You deserved so much better my child," she said sadly. "Parents who loved you."

Xilä gave her a wobbly smile. "It's in the past now. And I have Sal and Jxo, they are my parents...It- it may sound horrible to say this, but...I would live through it all over again if it meant I'd end up here. I found a home. I found Neteyam," she declared.

Neytiri stared at her through shining eyes. "You know, I prayed Eywa would bless my son with someone strong. Someone with heart. Someone the people would admire and stand by. Someone who would love my 'Teyam down to the core of his being...I thank Eywa for answering my prayers. I thank Eywa for blessing us with you, Xilä."

If it wasn't for the interruption of an oblivious to the moment and overly animated Tuk, Xi knew she'd have burst into happy tears.

~

Later that night as Xi puttered around their kitchenette, she told her husband about her day. She left out the part about her and Neytiri's little heart to heart however.

"-oh, and the waterfall was amazing! We should go sometime for a date night. What do you think, handsome?"

"Sounds good, baby," her mate mumbled distractedly.

She glanced at him and snorted in amusement.

He was crouched at their workstation, frowning in concentration. Xi had put him to work, asking him to dice the root vegetables she'd layed out for dinner. The poor man was incredibly focused on the task at hand, cursing under his breath when he realized the pieces weren't cubed as she'd asked him to cut.

It wasn't usual for them to have dinner at home. Most evenings they ate with the rest of the clan or with either of their families but Neteyam had asked her to stay in tonight and she didn’t mind one bit.

He was reserved when he got home, she'd noticed but she didn't comment on it. She knew he'd eventually open up when he was ready.

When they'd finished preparing a hearty stew, they made themselves comfortable around the beautiful table Jxo had crafted. The main room felt cozy too since her husband, ever the romantic, had lit little candles all over the space.

Conversation flowed between the two as they ate. Half way through their meal however, he'd had enough distance from her.

"Come here," he said, patting his lap, pulling her into the cradle of his thighs before she could try to move herself. He kissed her ear before offering her a bite of food.

"You know I can feed myself, right?" she laughed, accepting the vegetable anyway.

"Humor me," he smiled, popping a piece of tender meat into her mouth this time before licking the juice off his fingertips.

"So, I have to tell you something," he said, after chewing on a bite of his own.

"Oh?" She turned to see him better, giving her full attention.

"There's a small team flying out to the C'ontiqu mountains tomorrow," he said, mindlessly wiping away a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth and sucking it off his thumb. "It'll be a two day- three day trip at most, just to clear the area and mark it as a safe zone...I'll be heading the trip though."

"Oh...this is for the whole, war clean up thing, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, the RDA left their marks all over Pandora. It's a long overdue project but it'd be worth it in the end. Better to be safe than to stumble onto an old landmine ten years from now."

She nodded. "Alright...I miss you already," she said, hugging him round the waist. And it was the truth, she felt a little pang of sadness from his news. It also occurred to her that this would be their first time apart from each other for longer than a few hours.

As if reading her mind, he lifted her chin and bent to kiss her jaw in apology. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. And hey, you've got that practice with Lo'ak and his trainees tomorrow, so you'll be plenty busy and distracted until I get back."

Lo'ak had been promoted a few days ago. Since then he'd promised her a place on his team for whenever she wanted to improve her skills, citing he'd be, "a much better mentor than her skxawng husband."

"That's true," she replied. "And maybe I'll invite my parents over the next day? They haven't been over since we moved in," she pondered, already thinking of inviting D'avi and her family as well.

"See? I bet you won't even notice I'm gone."

"I'll notice," she frowned, snapping her head up to eye him.

Neteyam openly stared. Gaze roaming over her features, he observed her as if trying to memorize every inch of her face.

"What?" she asked, lips quirking upwards in amusement. She poked his cheek, waking him from his thoughts. "What?" she laughed.

"Nothing...I'm just trying to decide whether to fuck you and fill you with my come tonight and cuddle you in the morning, or to cuddle you all night then fuck you and fill you in the morning. It's a kind of a tough decision," he said in faux seriousness.

Her eyes glinted and she bit her lip to stifle her laughter. Her husband was always saying such wild things. Half the time she either blushed so furiously, she was pretty sure she turned purple all over. The other half of the time she couldn't help cracking up at his absurdity.

"Liar," she said, fighting a grin. "Tell me the truth."

His knuckles caressed her cheek. "Fine...I'll miss you, is all," he mumbled. "You're turning me soft, you know that?" he teased in mock fury, shuffling her around so she straddled his thigh, large hands palming over the skin of her waist. "How'd you manage to have me wrapped around your little finger? Don't you know I have a reputation to uphold?"

Xi scoffed. "Everyone already knows you're soft for me though. So I don't know who you're trying to foo- OW! That hurt!" she complained, swatting his hand away to rub at her stinging backside.

He had flipped up her skirt to smack her on the butt because of her sass.

"Want me to kiss it better?" he asked with a wild grin, leaning forward to nip her pouting bottom lip.

"I don't trust you near my ass, honestly," she said, gaining a loud cackle from her mate who tossed his head back with a hoot.

When they finished their meal, they decided to go out for a night stroll. Xilä loved observing the activity of the clan around this time.

Hunters, gathers, fishermen, warriors, healers, all reuniting with their families and settling in.

The smokehouses and food tents were stocked with the day's harvest and prepped for the next day.

Teenagers mingled about until the last second-until they were called home by their yelling parents.

And Xi love to hear the muffled conversations and laughter emitting from homes when they strolled pass.

It was comforting.

It was home.

"Hey, can we take the ikrans out when you get back? Journey is going to miss her boyfriend. Buddy is so much more calm around her," she mused.

He groaned in mild annoyance. "Xi, baby. They aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Stop listening to Tuk's make believe stories...But yeah, we can do that when I get back."

She grinned triumphantly, plastering herself to his side even more as they continued walking.

"'Teyam," she said, remembering something. "Tell me the joke you didn't want your father to say the other day."

"No."

"Why not?" she grumbled.

He sighed, shooting her a fleeting side eyed stare. "Baby, you'll only be embarrassed, trust me."

"Wait...am I part of the story?" she asked in suspicion.

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek. He contemplated whether he should say. "You remember that one night I ate you out behind the labs?"

Xi stopped walking, peeling herself away from him. "What about it?" she asked in dread.

Her husband wiped a palm down his face with groan. "I sent you away after, remember?"

She nodded, clearly remembering it was when they'd still been fooling around. Neteyam had dragged her behind a link shack, determined to have his way with her.

"Well I uh-" he cleared his throat, "I stayed behind to take care of um, my-" he gestured to his dick. "I was just sneaking back out from our spot when dad and Gwuyle caught sight of me. It was kind of obvious apparently...And even more so, when you came back."

The moment clicked for Xilä when she realized what happened after.

"Oh Great Mother," she said, hiding her face.

"Yep."

That night, Xi had returned to the side of the labs when she noticed she'd forgotten her undercloth. Jake, his second in command and Neteyam were all further away, talking by the time she'd gotten there.

They'd all shot her varying looks she was too distracted to interpret, and not wanting to interrupt them, she walked ahead and snuck back behind the trailer to search for the abandoned flimsy material that was torn off her.

Unbeknownst to her, Neteyam was the only one to feel the knowing stares from his dad and his second, embarrassment clouding his face as they so clearly put the pieces together, figuring out what he and Xi had been up too.

The worst part- the part he decided to keep to himself, was when Gwuyle smirked and said, "Brother, you've got a bit of something right here," as he pointed to the corner of his own mouth.

Neteyam flushed, hastily wiping away the remnants of Xi's slick, while Jake coked on air and averted eyes before quickly changing the topic.

"I am never looking your father in the eyes again," Xi stated in utter mortification.

He laughed in agreement. "Aww, baby. I'm sorry," he sang in awe of her cuteness. He pulled her into his arms so she could hide from the world as she cursed him.

Grinning into her hair, he received his scolding without complaint. He knew damn well it was all his fault.

~

Neteyam was wrong.

Xi did notice his absence. She missed him like crazy.

On the first night, she barely slept, not only due to his missing presence but also because she was completely alone. She was half tempted to sneak into the little room she had at her parents' place.

She hated being lonely.

Xi woke extremely early on the second day after a shitty night of sleep. Stretching out her sore muscles, she snuggled into Neteyam's side of the hammock, wishing he were there.

Even though she hadn't chosen Warrior as her path, her husband still pushed her to keep at her training when she could and Lo'ak- the liar, was brutal on her and his group of trainees yesterday.

He made them run through drill after drill with no remorse. So it was no surprise that her body was aching, tired and begging for one of her mate's delicious, full body massages.

It was still quite dark out so Xi mentally planned her day as she relaxed.

She had an early morning class in a few hours with Tsahìk who no longer referred to Xi's lessons as healer training, but Tsahìk training.

And after that, Sal and Jxo were coming by for a late lunch, so she made a quick note to get her laundry out of the way before then.

Xi also had to request some cloth from the tapestry tents since the skirt she wore to training yesterday was badly torn. She would have to sew a new one- or maybe she'd just ask her mother to do it.

Her thoughts were interrupted however when she heard a nearby twig snap. Thinking nothing of it, she closed her eyes, intending to go back to sleep for a few more hours. But then another rustle was heard from just outside her tent- too close for comfort this time.

Ears twitching, she strained to hear if the sound was just her imagining things.

It was far too early for visitors, so Xilä slung herself out of bed and headed out into the main room. She frowned when she saw a shadow grow at the tent's entrance and gasped when her father pushed the flap aside and strode in, completely uninvited.

"Nice to see you again, Xilä," T'shteyo said pleasantly, eyes greedily taking in the interior of her home- walking about as if he owned it.

Shock taking hold, Xilä stared, completely at a loss for words.

He was supposed to be gone.

Jake and a team of warriors had personally escorted her father out of the Omatikaya forest yesterday. Jxo had even told her that they'd sent him off with more than a generous amount of provisions.

Fear rippled down her spine and her jaw hung in disbelief. "What are you doing here? Please leave," she managed to get out.

"You didn't think I was actually going to leave without you, did you?" he asked, head titled as he seemed to be admiring the colorful tapestry hanging Neteyam had gotten made for her.

"How'd you think I did with my goodbye speech? I thought I did quite well- Oh come now, don't look at me like that. Don't you remember? I told you, we are going back home. About damn time too."

She gaped at him. He was crazy. He had to have been. "Father...you need to leave, I-"

"Didn't you hear me girl? Pack your shit. Let's go."

"No!" she snapped.

He looked almost stunned for a moment before he was quickly advancing on her.

She jumped at his sudden movement, scrambling backwards on shaky legs. Xi tripped, knocking over a basket of sewing materials, knee colliding with the fort of assembled cushions and blankets Tuk had made when she, Lo'ak, Kiri and Spider visited last night.

Her father made a wild grab for her but she dodged him, causing him to run into Neteyam's collection of weapons- a few of them clattering to the floor with a loud CLANG.

Xi made a run for the tent's threshold but he caught her, grabbing hold of her queue, fingers clenched tight while she cried out in pain.

Thinking fast, she rammed her head backwards, catching him in the face with force.

She made a dive for one of the fallen weapons, snagging a small dagger just in the nick of time.

"Stop!" she yelled hysterically, brandishing the knife in front of her as she backed away.

The Li'ona male had no care however, he advanced towards her, dodging her skilled swings of the weapon, trying to catch her wrist.

Xi managed to nick him twice before slicing a deep gash to his stomach.

When he was momentarily stunned by the cut she inflicted, Xi used the opportunity to stab the short blade into his shoulder, twisting it for added measure. He roared in pain and anger and Xi made another attempt to flee.

She screamed when he clamped a fistful of her hair and roughly slammed her to the ground. Xi rolled and kicked his knee with all her might, making him buckle and grunt in pain. She crawled on all fours, trying to get to the exit but it was futile.

T'shteyo grabbed her ankle and dragged her backwards, rolling her over to restrain her thrashing. She struggled against him and scratched at his face- fingers digging into his flesh as he growled and seethed.

Xi released a gut wrenching scream for help- hoping someone would possibly be up or nearby at this hour but she was just as quickly silenced.

T'shteyo smacked her cheek so hard she went mute. Seeing stars as her cheek stung bad, she whimpered.

Her father stood at his full height, pulling her up with him as his palms circled her throat, squeezing whilst he fixed her with a murderous glare.

She clawed at the backs of the hands crushing her windpipe- her fingernails drawing blood as she struggled for breath, her feet dangling off the floor.

She was no match for him.

"P- p- please-" she gurgled when he tightened his grip.

"Try that shit again, and I'll kill you," he threatened. "Answer me."

"Ye-" she made a choking noise, blinking frantically as her vision swam.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to pack your shit like I told you and then we are going back to Li'ona. Understood?"

He let her go and she crumbled, catching herself on center table, gasping and coughing as she cupped her bruised neck. He laughed when she tried to call for help again but was unable to. "Now you can't scream."

Xi's throat burned and frightened tears stained her cheeks.

Panicked now that she couldn't yell for help, she tried to make another dash for the exit but he fisted her hair again- pulling at the roots painfully.

Ignoring her cries of hurt, he dragged her by the braids as she tripped over her feet, leading her towards her and Neteyam's private quarters.

He shoved her onto the bed roughly and backhanded her for the trouble she caused him.

He winced, looking down at the knife still embedded in his shoulder. With a simple tug he removed it, barely blinking an eye at the blood gushing from his wound.

Tearing apart a blanket from her bed, he dabbed away the excess blood. Taking a fresh strip, he tied the cloth tightly to his injury. And then, turning away, he began rifling through their possessions, stuffing item after item into a spare sack he found.

"Pack!" he barked, making her flinch.

She was too terrified to move however.

He admired one of Neteyam's chokers before taking it too. "It will go well with my staff once Su'ko returns my title to me. After all, what I've offered him, the bastard couldn't possibly refuse," he said almost conversationally.

He smiled when he found the boots Sal had made for her and tossed them at her, catching her in the face. "For the weather," he snarled, shouldering his stolen items onto his good shoulder.

Xi stared at the pretty boots in her lap- she hadn't worn them in months.

"I- I don't want to fight Father..." her voice was hoarse, raw from the trauma he'd inflicted to her throat. "I don't- I'm not going. My life is here...please don't do this."

She was shaking, fear rooting her to the spot. She was almost mad at herself for not fighting harder, for seeming to forget everything Neteyam had taught her in their lessons- for not trying to escape at the first sight of the man before her- for forgetting what he was truly capable of.

"Well tough because I didn't ask what you wanted, did I? I need you to complete the deal anyway," he said, walking back out into the main room.

Xi blinked, mind blank as she tried to process the situation. She gingerly walked toward the main room again, holding her side with a wince. T'shteyo was busy stuffing another pack now with the food from her kitchenette- blocking her from escaping.

"What deal?" she couldn't help asking, quietly.

He merely glanced at her. "You."

"M-me?"

"Su'ko sent a message. He agreed to take you in exchange for the title," he said mindlessly, moving on to scrutinize her husband's scattered weapons, stealing a few as he spoke. "He gets a whore and I become Olo'eyktan once again. A fair fucking deal if you ask me."

Xi blanched. "What? No- I am already mated! Neteyam is my hus-"

"That love sick fool is nothing! You're lucky he's not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left."

At the fleeting thought of her father killing her mate, fear and nausea wrecked Xilä.

"I gave no permission for him to have you. I decide who you are given to. Me! Don't forget it. We are not forest pests. It is not our way."

"Then what was the point of us fleeing here father?!" she yelled as loudly as she could manage. "Su'ko wants us dead, and you're going to- give me- to him? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Completely enraged, her words hissed like venom, "I am Omatikaya. I am the wife of the future Olo'eyktan, daughter-in-law of Toruk Makto! I will be Tsahìk. So you will treat me with resp-"

SMACK!

Xi crumbled in a heap to the floor from the blow and T'shteyo crouched in front of her to grip her jaw hard, forcing her to look up at him.

He smiled cynically and said in a calm, almost conversational manner, "Oh, but you are nothing, darling, you are beneath me. So fuck you and your plea for respect. You disappoint me Xilä. What about our ways? What about our people? Do you not care?"

He shoved her away looking disgusted. "Of course you don't care. You are just like her. Just like your fucking mother. I should've killed the bitch when I had the chance." He spat a blob of saliva at her as he got to his feet again, striding over to his loot to continue his packing.

Xi blinked back tears as crimson liquid pooled from her mouth. It was staining the pretty floor tapestry her in-law's had gifted them. Her ribs ached from when he'd tossed her to the ground and her cheek burned, she was sure that it was split open.

The clinking of glass had her head flicking up. The items in her father's hands were foreign- obviously from the lab.

A needle and a clear vial.

"You know, these blood demons aren't as useless as I thought," he said, clumsily filling the syringe with liquid from the vial. "The fuckers kept me...what was it they called it? Oh right sedated with these funny little contraptions. Wasn't hard to steal a couple while they weren't watching," he smirked.

Xilä's stomach clenched in fear.

"Get over here," he ordered, walking towards her. "You've stalled me long enough. Let's go already. I want to get away while it's still dark out," he ordered, "and before the chaos begins."

She shook her head frantically, trying to back away but it was no use. He grabbed her throat roughly and stuck her with the point. Xi gasped at the slight prick on her neck, frowning up at him in confusion when he released her.

"What was that?" she demanded, fingertips pressing at her skin in terror.

Limbs turning heavy, she blinked rapidly as darkness began to cloud her vision. Her head swam and she felt herself begin to slip away.

"Wah id yoo doooo," she slurred.

Panicked, she eyed the exit to her tent. If she could just move- if she could just scream.

Just before Xilä's eyes rolled up into her head- just before she collapsed into the abyss, she heard the loud familiar roar of a palulukan, followed by a slew of screams.

~

Neteyam was shaken awake by a member of his team. Immediately alert as he sat up, his eyes darted around for sources of danger.

"What is it?"

"Neteyam," Tasam said gravely. "There's call waiting for you. It's the chief's personal line. Answer it, quickly."

Fumbling with the earpiece he had popped off before going to sleep, he frowned as he watched his team hurriedly packing up their makeshift camp, called ikrans flying towards them at speed.

On his feet, he pressed on the device circling his neck, "Sir, you there?"

"Neteyam...bro, it's me." It was Lo'ak...and he sounded, off.

"What in Eywa's name is going on brother? Why is my team scrambling at this hour? We're set to leave first thing in the morn-"

"Neteyam."

Neteyam stilled in trepidation. Hearing the seriousness in Lo'ak's tone filled him with dread.

"I don't know how to say this but- look you need to come home alright? It's Xilä-"

"What about Xilä?!" he shouted, ignoring the concerned glances from his team as they hustled around.

"She's gone man. She- we can't find her. We think something happened- we think it was T'shteyo." Blood rushed in Neteyam's ears, muffling the rest of his brother's words. "We have units out searching for hours now-"

"Hours?! How long has she been missing? Why the fuck are you only telling me this now!" he hissed as he grabbed his bow and bag, blowing out a loud whistle as he strode straight to the edge of the cliff they were camped out at.

"I'm sorry but we thought we'd find her by now. There was an attack and- It's like she disappeared into fucking air! There are no tracks, her ikran is still here-"

"Have all the borders been checked?" Neteyam asked, mounting Buddy the moment he landed, flying off immediately- his team following behind.

"Yes, multiple times! We have teams set up incase they-"

"Who was the last person to see her?" Neteyam demanded, cutting his brother off again as he urged his banshee to fly faster, the wind whipping his braids backwards.

"I was. We all hung out late at your place and-"

"When did you realize she was missing? How long till someone noticed?!"

"Bro will you calm d-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Lo'ak! My mate is missing! MISSING! She is missing while I have been here strolling through a fucking mountain when I should have been out there searching for her! But no I wasn't, know why? Because I wasn't told anything until HOURS later! So don't you dare tell me to fucking calm down!"

He ended the connection and urged Buddy to go faster, praying to Eywa to keep his wife safe and praying for sanity since he felt himself spiraling.

There was one thing for certain however. If it truly was T'shteyo behind his mate's sudden disappearance...

Neteyam knew.

Without a doubt.

He was going to kill him.

~

I would just like to apologize in advance...as a reader who absolutely detests cliff hangers herself, I'm so so sorry.

But I do hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. I can't promise when the next part will be out, so please bear with me lovelies.

And of course, once again a big special shout out and hug to my friend Tori. 💛

As always thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

[eeunoia]

Clingy and Yandere sunoo step brother plsss💕

warnings: yandere themes.

i hope you enjoy this! thanks for this requests. ily

“I’ll see you later, okay? Wait for me here.” Sunoo, your step brother says and gently placed a kiss on your left cheek before walking away.

You waved at him one last time and smiled watching your brother’s back. You failed to notice the pair of eyes watching you with a hint of judgment.

“I know you two are close, but don’t you think he’s too much for you?” your friend blurted the moment you two starts walking inside your building.

Your brows folds as you try to process what she just said. A little muddled by her odd question, your mind starts to wander off.

Sunoo and you were just kids when your Mother decided to re-marry to Sunoo’s Father. You’ve been wanting an older brother ever since so when he was introduced to you, you’re beyond delighted. Even if you two are not blood related, the love and affection he shows towards you are unmeasurable. He’s supportive, loving, caring and sure is protective of you.

There’s really nothing you can ask for.

“What do you mean?” you ask lightly and you two settled down at your chairs inside the lecture room. Thankfully, the professor for this class seems to be late once again.

She sighs and rolled her eyes.

“Him. His acts towards you are sometimes over the line. He’s so strict of you! We can’t even hang out without him knowing or tailing us everywhere.”

“He’s just really protective. And besides, don’t you enjoy his company?”

Your bestfriend rolls her eyes again because you’re missing out her point. It’s been a while since she started to watch Sunoo’s actions closely. It is given that you two grew up as siblings and your bond can be really tight, but she started to find it a bit bothering.

Sometimes she can see how he stares at you and that’s definitely not how older brothers look at their younger sisters.

“That’s not the point, y/n. He’s so clingy and touchy even! He gets upset whenever you get close to another guy and obviously gets jealous of them. He’s possessive of you which is totally a redflag. If I don’t know you two are siblings, I will mistook you two as a couple.”

Her words suddenly started to sink into you. She was right to everything she mentioned. Normally, older brothers loves to pick on their little sisters. Tease them nonstop and all. Sunoo’s total opposite. He’s so clingy towards you too. Have his arm wrapped over your shoulder or hands holding yours. Kisses on the cheeks or forehead. Frequent hugs. Before, they’re just innocent brotherly acts for you but after what your friend said, you hate how it suddenly felt awkward for you.

You are occupied the whole day of classes and you have nothing in mind but that topic. In the end, you thought to yourself that you will open this up to him and for sure you two can work things out together like usual.

“Y/n!” Sunoo waves happily while waiting for you.

Once glance at your friend and she’s already giving you that knowing look. You gulped and walked towards your brother after sending goodbye to your friend. The moment you were reachable enough for Sunoo, he quickly pulled you into an embrace.

Feeling a bit bothered because of what your friend told you, you’re the first one to break off the hug. He didn’t seem mind it and just decided to carry your things for you. When you two are finally alone inside his car, you cleared your throat.

“Oppa?” you called his attention and reached over your seatbelt.

“Hm?” he looked over you smiling. His sweet smile made you feel guilty of thinking such things towards him. His hand stretches and steals the handle of the seatbelt from you to do it himself.

“U-Uhm,” you started feeling slightly worried.

“What is it?” he asks softly raising both of his eyebrows, waiting patiently for what you’re about to say.

You heaved a sigh and decided to go for it.

“I think you should take it easy on being touchy towards me in public.” finally, you said it.

He was silent after hearing what you said.

“Y-You know, haha, because people may misunderstand it. (friend’s name) said sometimes we look like couples instead of siblings and it starts bothering me.”

The emotions in his eyes drained and you instantly felt fear. That was the first time you’ve seen him like that. You gulped nervously and can almost hear your heart beating frantically. You only felt relieve the moment he smiles again.

“Sure! No problem, y/n. If that’s what you want.” and you smiled brightly before hugging him slightly then thanked him for being understandable.

You went back on being talkative after that topic and shrugs it off. Sunoo’s smiling while listening to your stories, but something’s forming in his mind. A plan.

“O-Oppa...” your face were filled with tears as you choke on your own salive from crying too much.

Things aren’t totally sinking unto you. It happened to fast. You felt like you are floating and time stopped. You can feel nothing but pain over your chest. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this. The feeling of losing someone sure is unforgettable.

“Shh, I know baby.” Sunoo whispered and caged you inside his embrace, comforting his sweet little y/n.

You looked so small and vulnerable between his arms, crying and mourning for your bestfriend. It’s just 8 am in the morning when you received a call from her mother saying that she passed away. It said that its self exit, but you couldn’t understand any of it. She was completely okay yesterday when you two part ways.

You can feel yourself suffocating as you tighten your embrace to Sunoo. He moved away slightly and the fear of being left alone occured you.

“Don’t leave me oppa!” you exclaimed, crying louder.

Sunoo placed a kiss on top of your head and a smirk plays over his lips. “I will never leave you.” he whispered as he continued whispering comforting words.

He was ‘surprised’ when you suddenly walked inside his bedroom in tears saying that your bestfriend passed away. He didn’t waste any time and opens his arms for you. For his y/n, his sweet little angel. He will do everything for you. He will always be beside you and you will not need someone else besides him.

He tried his best comforting you, despite still feeling a little sleepy. After all, he stays up late paying your best friend a short visit.

“I’m here for you. I love you.” he whispers.

#anon #ily #asks #eeunoia #enhypen #enhypen imagines #yandere enhypen #enhypen kim sunoo #enhypen sunoo yandere #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen sunoo x reader

[scaranation]

Hey I ADORE UR WRITING...SENDING ALL LOVES TO U... btw can u write a headcanon about how alhaitham or zhongli or wanderer would react to a really short fiesty y/n?

THIS IS V LATE IM SO SORRY HAHA anyway im alive now so I finally finished the prompt ! i interpreted it romantically by accident but I hope you like it anyway ehehe

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

ft. Alhaitham, Zhongli, Wanderer

Content: Fluff, headcannons, it's all enemies to lovers, Scara's part is a little short but so is he 🤭

a/n - ignore the spam e's at the end tumblr kept deleting my last paragraph whenever i tried to edit so i got mad and made sure the only thing i'd lose were the 3847394 e's i typed

ALHAITHAM

At first, he couldn’t ever see himself falling for someone like you. And if he were to date you, he’d definitely have to fall quite far - after all, you were so short, he practically had to trip over himself in squatting to talk to you. What you lacked in height, however, was made up by temper.

The first time Alhaitham had met you, he was very much taken aback by your personality. Instantly, he categorised you as the irritating, distracting type, filing away your existence in his brain as he droned out the sound of your voice.

“Grand Sage! I’m here to get approval for my research paper, and-”

“Acting Grand Sage.” Alhaitham corrected you without even looking up from his desk. Your words didn’t even register to him, as he left the interaction to his subconscious as to save his own energy.

“Acting Grand Scribe, whatever. Anyway, here’s my thesis, can you look over it now?”

“The approval process takes a few days, you can leave it here.”

“Oh, okay! Thank you, Grand Sage!” You chirped, scurrying off before Alhaitham could point out your error again. He spared a cursory glance towards the paper you’d left on his desk, raising an eyebrow.

“Height: an in-depth study into the role of genetics versus upbringing in contributing to an individual’s vertical stature.”

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise, and the premise of your project lacked nuance. He idly flipped through the pages, already preparing to reject it.

"This project will feature an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban who struggles with height in order to establish a deeper understanding... Hm. Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We've seen countless projects like this before." Alhaitham mused, stamping the front cover with bright red rejection and putting the paper aside.

It wasn’t long before Alhaitham found you at his office once again. However, you’d shed any semblance of politeness you’d had before, only fuming as you marched right up to his desk and demanded an explanation for the rejection of your research project.

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a thesis like this. The Akademiya needs not waste its resources on previously covered topics, hence I suggest you find a scholarly pursuit more worthy of your time.” You clenched your hands into fists at the irritating way the Acting Grand Sage didn’t even glance at you, his eyes still darting over the paper he was currently reading.

“What’s so interesting about what you’re reading now, then?” You snapped, slamming both hands on the hard wood of the desk. Your arms faltered a little as pain shot up from the impact. You tried to bite back a wince, but Alhaitham noticed. He had to fight to keep an amused smirk down as he finally looked up at you.

“This? It’s a study into the applicability of natural selection in society. Of course, it fuels some questionable - and incorrect - ideals, but it has piqued my interest. Rest assured that it will also be rejected.” Alhaitham’s tone was condescending, and it only made you more frustrated.

“Why are you invalidating my experiment?”

“Don’t take this so personally, I have nothing against you as an individual.” The Acting Grand Sage chuckled. Your demeanour reminded him of a fiery chipmunk, and he tuned out the sound of your incessant rambling.

Even your cheeks looked like a chipmunk’s. How fun it would be, to squish them…

“Hey, what are you doing?” You were jerked out of your spiel by the touch of Alhaitham’s hand on your cheek. Some fingers were gloved, others bare - it made a curious contrast, the rough leather juxtaposing smooth skin.

“My apologies, you had something on your cheek. You may continue your futile self justification now.” Alhaitham retracted his hand to go back to studying the paper.

“This… this won’t be the end!” You exclaimed. You sounded rather like a villain one would find in a children’s novel, except Alhaitham doubted there was a villain as small and as harmless as you.

“I look forward to your future endeavours.” Alhaitham quirked a wry smile at seeing you scuttle off furiously.

You were right - this wasn’t the end. You’d unfortunately piqued the Acting Grand Sage’s interest, and once that happened, there was no way out.

You’d find yourself bumping into Alhaitham more often after that incident. Who knew the Acting Sage even left his office? Wherever you went, he’d be there, presumably to make your life harder.

It sounds cliche, but he would definitely help you out with reaching books just beyond the range of your flailing hands. Of course, he’d read the title and criticise your choice of literature before handing it to you, but Alhaitham would be of aid nonetheless.

He’d make blunt remarks to rile you up, enjoying the sight of you flushing in anger. You were so short, yet so energetic - he often wondered how it was possible for you to be so endearing and irritating at the same time.

Sometimes, your brutish comments would get through to Alhaitham, and you’d have the pleasure of seeing his jaw flex in discomfort before he snapped back with something equally personal. Neither of you were ever willing to let the other have the last word.

You often wondered how you’d gotten close to the cold Acting Sage. He was feared amongst all other scholars for his meticulousness, and yet he seemed fine with engaging in banter with you. It was a shocking but typical sight to see you with him in the halls of the Akademiya, the almost comical height difference drawing scoffs from witnesses. A quick glare from Alhaitham would be enough to silence those snickers, however. After all, he was the only one who could tease you, and you, him.

ZHONGLI

You’d first meet Zhongli through attempting to scam him. Most people would wonder why you were trying to swindle the god of contracts himself, but to be fair, you didn’t know who he was - and you were an absolute genius at robbing people with honeyed lies. How were you supposed to know you’d bitten off more than you could chew?

The day had begun normally, with you merely making your normal (fraudulent) sales. You’d make glorious promises of a newly discovered vein of ores in the Chasm, painting pictures of abundant wealth. Then, you’d convince those poor customers to buy stakes in the mine for a ridiculous price, although they were really only buying a shoddy patch of dirt you owned in the Sumeru-Liyue border. You’d managed to slip under the radar as you technically hadn’t done anything illegal, only omitted some key details.

After all, you only said that there was a “strong possibility” that there would be valuable ores there. And you were right - there were iron chunks. And they were valuable… in some perspectives. Either way, you didn’t know much about what was legal and what wasn’t (your only knowledge came from your time attending school with Yanfei) but it was good, not-so-honest work. The devil’s in the details, as they say, and nobody reads the poorly written fine print on the contracts you made anyway.

Until Zhongli came along.

“May I ask the whereabouts of this place?” The man exuded wealth, from his deep voice to his elegantly refined attire. Your eyes sparkled. If you could pull this off, the rewards would be great.

“It’s in the Chasm.”

“Ah, you already mentioned that, but where exactly in the Chasm?”

“Around the Western side, near the Sumeru border.”

“Hm, how fascinating. I don’t recall any developments being made in that area.” Zhongli murmured.

“It’s being kept a secret, because of how valuable it is… Of course you understand how important confidentiality is to such a project, right?”

“What confidentiality is there to uphold if you’re blandly advertising it in the middle of Liyue Harbour?”

You were stunned into silence, mouth hanging open. It was there that you noticed the knowing gleam in his eyes, the quirk of his lips in a shrewd smirk.

“… Please don’t report me. I will atone for my sins, and worship the lord of geo with great reverence.” You immediately switched attitudes, letting out a nervous laugh. For a seasoned businessperson like yourself, you had to know when to stop attacking and when to start defending. This was one of those times where it was best to defend - or, better yet, to just run away.

“Well then, you may begin now.” Zhongli crossed his arms.

“You’re not the lord of geo.” You retorted. The man had introduced himself as Zhongli, after all.

“Oh?” Zhongli smiled, and you felt your stomach churn. If this man truly was Rex Lapis, then you’d just made a very big mistake.

Zhongli turned and walked away, and you breathed out a sigh of relief - before he glanced back at you, expecting you to follow.

“Where… where are we going…?” You asked.

“Aren’t you going to atone? We’ll start by returning every cent of the mora you took.” Zhongli took your hand in his. A stupid, out of place warmth bloomed at the contact, but you quickly squashed it as you continued to fume at the man who’d dismantled your thriving business.

“What? The Tianquan was onto you already, would you rather face more extreme persecution from her?” Zhongli smiled.

“… No.” You snapped.

This ‘atonement’ was going to take a while.

Surprisingly, your victims - wait, *customers* - were scattered far and wide around Teyvat, so you found yourself going on many trips with the former lord of geo.

At first, you’d constantly snap at him, viewing him as a suspiciously pleasant millelith member, or an overly patronising supervisor. However, as the two of you got closer, he wasn’t as insufferable as you thought.

It was comforting to hear Zhongli share his past experiences, narrating first-hand stories like the ones in the history classes you never paid attention to. He was also the perfect height for you to grab his ponytail, yanking it particularly hard whenever you were bored.

To be honest, Zhongli often did appear as your guardian. He’d stop you from picking fights with strangers, easily holding you back (or slinging you over his shoulder if you were being particularly disagreeable), doing his best to maintain peace in an environment you were in.

On colder days, you’d borrow Zhongli’s coat, although it was so long it dragged along the floor. The sleeves hung over your hands, the cuffs flopping around whenever you excitedly pointed out something. Zhongli would chuckle at your mannerisms, resting a comforting hand on your head to keep you still.

Zhongli was calm, and you definitely were not. He was tall, but you most certainly weren’t. But you know what they say - opposites attract. And you made quite a pair with the former Geo Archon.

WANDERER

Two vertically challenged, feisty individuals with an attitude problem. Both you and the Wanderer were Sumeru city’s worst nightmare, although you undeniably despised each other.

You’d match his energy with unfaltering confidence as he hurled every insult in your direction upon seeing you. Honestly, neither of you were sure when this rivalry started - perhaps it’d just began when you two wanted to see who could be the best short angry person in the region.

“Looking as useless as ever, Wanderer.” You sneered upon seeing the familiar jellyfish cut from the back, snickering as the figure turned to glare at you.

“Has anyone ever told you about your severe temper issues?” The Wanderer snapped back.

“Speak for yourself - I heard you massacred some poor Fatui skirmishers while roaming in the jungle.”

“They were in the way, and you would’ve done the same if you were in my position.”

Those that were passing by watched your bickering with an amused trepidation. You really were perfect for each other, if you’d somehow set your hatred aside.

You and the Wanderer would be seen prowling the city streets or wrecking havoc in the wilderness in the name of some vague competition, both your tempers equally matched. In candid moments you two would almost understand each other perfectly, almost opening your mouths to say something vulnerable.

Of course, your egos wouldn’t allow for that. And so, you and the Wanderer would dance along the edge of whatever strange relationship you had.

Despite you both being short, the Wanderer possessed an Anemo vision. Hence, as you struggled to climb a tree to obtain some bird eggs, the Wanderer would float above you, cackling as he snatched them out of your reach.

“What on earth do you plan to do with these, anyway? I never knew you cooked.”

“Give them to me!”

“How sad life must be, having your head so close to the ground.” The Wanderer wove to the side to dodge your flailing arms, failing to notice the dangerous creaking of the branch you were clinging to.

“You’d better come back here right now-” The branch snapped and you went hurtling down, squeezing your eyes shut. You heard a crack, and felt yourself land against something.

“Gosh, you’re so heavy.” The Wanderer scoffed. He’d caught you mid-air, lowering you to the ground in mocking gentleness.

“Did I break a bone…?” You gasped, feeling something sticky on your back. Perhaps it was all your organs spilling out.

“No, you’re fine. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Then what was that cracking sound?”

“Uh, those eggs you were trying to get.”

You kept out of the Wanderer’s arms hurriedly, the almost tender moment broken - much like the eggs broken over your back and your companion’s hands.

“Archons, you’re so infuriating. Couldn’t you have put them down before saving me?” You scowled.

“Be grateful I did it in the first place.” The Wanderer rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if it was you or the sticky egg debris, but he felt a lingering warmth in his hands.

You and the Wanderer understood each other better than anyone, and let’s be honest - the whole of Sumeru was just waiting for the two of you to get together.

(pls ignore this)

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“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

blah

STOP DELETING MY SHIT

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Th

I HATE TUMBLR UGHHHH

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

I HATE TUMBLR

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise nor succinct, and there was a clear lack of nuance within the premise of your project. He idly flipped through the rest of the pages, already preparing to reject it.

“For research… there will be an interview held with a member of the Shuumatsuban who experiences difficulties growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve already had similar projects.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front cover and putting it aside.

The former Scribe tutted. Even the title wasn’t concise, nor did it provide much nuance. He was just flipping through the rest, already preparing to reject it.

“This project will… involve an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban, who experiences stunted growth… Interesting, but not groundbreaking.” Alhaitham stamped the front cover in red and put it aside.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin headcannons #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham oneshot #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham x y/n #zhongli x y/n #zhongli oneshot #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli headcannons #zhongli imagines #wanderer fluff #fatui x reader #wanderer #wanderer imagines #wanderer headcanons #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche oneshot #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You can’t wait for your two days off. It’s rare that you get two in a row. Your plans are minimal, there’s a country store you like to wander around and the market is open on Saturdays. That liberation that comes with the end of your shift hits and you nearly dance across the store as you issue goodbyes with a chirp.

As you come to the front of the store, you stop short of the center aisle. A familiar voice has you ducking behind the accessories stand, listening with perked ears for your chance to escape. Andy. Again. It’s been two weeks since you made the mistake of being helpful and he’s taken to daily visits in the last few days.

You hear him ask for you. Your coworker apologetically tells him you just left. Thankfully she doesn’t realise how long it took you to do just that.

He accepts the answer with that same disappointment that tinges his tones when you’re drawn to another customer. You peek around as he wanders off listlessly towards the back section of the store. You notice how he seems to veer towards the employee lounge.

You skirt out, refusing to look at your coworker so they can’t flag you down. You push out into the crisp air and heave. You didn’t notice how suffocating the store was becoming. Especially lately.

You don’t want to let the close shave get in the way of your excitement. You’re going to start these two days off right. You stroll around the plaza to the cafe and join the bustling queue inside. The caramel mocha draws your attention as you wait, intent on try the new flavour.

When it’s your turn, you order and move aside to await your prize. You claim your cup and look around. Hm, there’s a small table left in the corner. You weave around and plant your drink on the table for two. You walk by the cafe all the time but you’ve never sat down to enjoy a coffee. You usually just get a medium roast before you clock in.

You settle in and take your book out of your bag. You crack it open to your mark and resume the chapter you’d left undone that morning. You sink into the paragraphs, stopping only to taste the sweet mocha treat. 

The ambience of the cafe is buzzing. Voices dip in and out as people mill in and out steadily. You feel wholly invisible amid the rush of patrons. You kind of like the feeling.

You keep your head down as you read, cradling your chin as you get to the last page of the chapter. You sense a shadow looming, someone looking for a place to sit among the cramped seating area. You shrink down as you focus on the pages before you.

You feel a bump on the table and look up as your mocha sloshes over the edge of your lidless cup. You barely move your book out of the way of the spill. As you peer up at the culprit, you barely repress a cringe. Not him. Please, why would the universe do this to you?

“Oh, excuse me–” He smiles. He has nice eyes even if the rest of him annoys you. “I am just looking for somewhere to sit. I didn’t mean to bump into you.” He holds a steaming cup, “I’m happy I did, though.”

“Uh, yeah, well, pretty packed in here,” you say and use a single napkin to soak up the droplets on the table.

“Hm, yeah, popular place,” he comments, “looks like I just missed you at the shop.”

“Mmhmm, I opened,” you say as you crumple up the napkin. You don’t know what to do, he’s not really getting the vibe. The very clear tension that says I’m alone and not looking for company.

“Early morning,” he chuckles and looks around, emphasizing the act and he hums at the lack of seating.

You sigh. You should just leave but you were there first. And you’re almost done your chapter. You’ve barely even had a few sips of your drink too.

“Well, there’s… a chair here, I guess,” you say dully.

“Really? Oh, I don’t want to intrude–”

“I’m just reading,” you reopen your book and put it back on the table, “but you can sit if you want.”

“Thanks,” he eagerly pulls out the chair and sits, his cup meeting the table so hard that it shakes. “Yeah, I got a new book myself.” He unhooks the paper bag on his wrist as he puts it beside his coffee, “I’m really eating up these regency ones.”

“Ah,” you nod and pull your book to lean on the edge of the table, making a point of looking rapt.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll shut up,” he laughs at himself.

You do your best to ignore his jostling. He takes a slurp of coffee then opens the paper bag with a loud crinkle. Somehow he is more disruptive than the dozen other noises overlapping. He slides out the book and you peek up at his hands as he opens it, breaking the spine first. You tend to be a bit more affectionate with your books.

You reach up without looking and take your cup. You drink, eyes glued to the words. You’re getting irritated. You really can’t get back into the story with him just sitting there. You’re under no obligation to be nice here. This is your personal time.

The more you think, the more annoyed you are. He’s no longer adding to your work, he’s ruining your free time. You take a breath and mark your page.

“Ah, you know what,” you say as you check your phone, “I gotta…” you pause as you raise your head to find him watching you. You’re not sure he only just started that, “I gotta head out actually. I’m going to miss the train.”

“Train? Oh, well, if you need a ride–” he offers.

You do your best not to be too abrupt in your rejection, “that’s fine. No, really, that’s too much.”

You stand and pack up your book in your bag. You shrug on your jacket and sling your knapsack over one shoulder as you grab your drink.

“See ya,” you say as he watches you with a stitch in his forehead.

“Yeah, see ya,” he utters, “you work tomorrow?”

You swallow as you weigh your options. You smile and tap a finger against the side of the cup, “uh, yeah, I start at noon.”

“Great, I’ll see ya then,” he brightens up.

“Okay,” you hold back a scoff, “er, bye.”

You hurry past the table, brushing against his arm in the tight space, and go to the stand to grab a lid for your cup. You snap it on and beeline for the door, slipping out behind another customer. You pass the window and glance over as you do. 

He’s watching you. Again. He waves as your eyes meet. You blanch and you flutter your fingers vaguely. You quickly cross the lot to the far end, well out of his view. This is getting strange.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #au #series #once upon a time #defending jacob #bookstore au

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER ONE.

Make me feel alive.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

MINORS DNI.

The chilly season is approaching as Christmas and the end of the year approaches and everyone's hearts are filled with excitement.

The scene that unfolds regularly once a month at the Obsidian Castle was still happening right before my eyes.

Gilbert: Hey, Walter—….can you stop dragging the little rabbit to your stunt?

Gilbert: She threatened me by saying, "If you don't go to the infirmary, you're banned from touching me"….you know?

Lord Gilbert, who was sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, and turned his red eye to me, clearly sulking.

Gilbert: I’ll kill you if you're close to the little rabbit.

Walter: If you'd just come in for your regular checkups, I wouldn't have to.

Walter: I can’t keep relying on Roderich most of the time. Even he has his limits.

Gilbert: Your regular checkups are too frequent. Besides, it's a hassle.

Walter: Your body needs a little extra caution. You just had a high fever the other day.

Gilbert: Everyone gets fevers. Even healthy people.

Walter: How many times do I have to tell you that you are prone to serious illnesses? Do you want to make your fiancée cry again?

Gilbert: Of course. I want to make her cry. A lot actually.

Emma: ….Lord Gilbert.

The other day, Gilbert seems off strangely, and when I touched him, unlike the usual coldness on his skin, it was rather warm,

I remember going to call for Mr. Walter in panic mode when I saw that he was not even breathing normally.

(I was really, really worried, but Lord Gilbert didn't seem to care at all.)

Gilbert: You’re exaggerating, Emma.

Emma: I couldn’t help but worry about you.

Gilbert: You poor thing.

(…No good. He is clearly enjoying himself.)

Walter: Roderich, your master is too evil.

Roderich: Doctor, he is also your master.

Walter: Dammit.

Gilbert: Hm, what’s that? You want a salary cut?

Walter: I am honored to serve such a wonderful master like you!

Gilbert: Hehe, I see.

(I'm getting used to this atmosphere lately.)

Lord Gilbert tends to avoid involving himself with people more than necessary.

However, he seems to have some patience/tolerance with his close aides, Mr. Roderich and Mr. Walter.

Their conversation was too dangerous to be considered friendly…but they often had a lively time together.

(Right! Since Lord Gilbert’s close aides are here.)

(And his regular check-up was completed successfully….)

Emma: Come to think of it, it's almost Lord Gilbert's birthday.

Emma: How do you celebrate it?

Walter and Roderich: …

Emma: Um…

(Huh…what’s with that atmosphere?)

Mr. Walter, who is usually so talkative kept his mouth shut, along with Mr. Roderich the moment I brought up the topic of his "birthday".

The expressions on their faces were so tense that it couldn’t be dismissed easily.

(Maybe I said something wrong.)

Emma: Could it be that birthdays don’t celebrate in obsidian?

Gilbert: No, regular families do celebrate it properly. Birthdays are special in any country.

Emma: Then what’s with this atmosphere…

Emma: You mentioned the other day that it was almost your birthday, didn’t you, Lord Gilbert?

Gilbert: Yeah. You seem to care about that sort of thing.

(So, it's not a taboo or something….)

Mr. Walter and Mr. Roderich both lowered their heads.

Only Lord Gilbert continued to smile as usual.

Gilbert: My birthday is something celebrated by those who want to die.

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#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

[bibastibootz]

Hello! First of all, I love your blog so much, you give off such warm, positive vibes :)

I wanted to ask if you would explain your head canons regarding Basti and Thorsten's sexualities a bit more? I've seen you refer to them as gay/bi respectively quite often and I would love to hear your reasonings and explanations behind that. (Not at all because I disagree, I'm just obsessed with the two of them and I think you'll have some very interesting takes on the topc!)

If you don't want to just ignore me :)

Hi! and thank you for this lovely ask, it put a really big smile on my face!! you're so kind! 😌 and OOHHHH do I have headcanons about Thorsten’s and Sebastian’s sexuality, I hope you’re ready!! 🔥 (I prefer making lists rather than writing articles, so I hope this still reads well enough)

schwuler Thorsten <3 It would be so easy to say that Thorsten is straight because he had a wife and a daughter back in Hamburg, but people who claim that aren't watching the show right. Here's why I think that a reading of him as a gay man is so so so so valid:

Susanne and Lilli: There are many ways to fit his late wife and daughter into this headcanon, so take your pick: He genuinely didn't know he was gay and started a family. He was in denial and started a family anyway. He was well aware of his homosexuality and maybe this was a mutual arrangement between him and Susanne. It was purely superficial.

(lack of) interest in women: Once Thorsten is in Stuttgart, he literally never shows any interest in any woman whatsoever (much to the dismay of his neighbour) and I do not remember him flirting with any woman ever. Also when asked about women, he literally answers, "Keine Ahnung, ich bin da kein Spezialist." A fortuneteller read his hand once and said: "Sie sind ein lebenslang Suchender. Besonders Frauen sind Ihnen ein ewiges Rätsel." and Thorsten replies, "Jetzt wird es vielleicht doch etwas zu persönlich." Hm. . . So Thorsten is sb who still hasn't found himself? And women are a mystery to him? Hm, gay. Also: Another relationship with a woman, much less so marriage, is so far off his radar that he proposed to Sebastian to start a "Alters WG".

often presumed gay: It is almost a running gag that people assume Thorsten is gay (except that the possibility of a gay Thorsten should not be the punchline). Julian Siebert in "Grabenkämpfe" assumes that Thorsten is gay. His boss while undercover in "Freigang" assumes that he's gay: "Bist du schwul oder warum sind hier keine Weiber?" Thorsten replies, "Schwul.", which the boss plays off as a joke.

casual, yet serious about queerness and other queer people: This is particularly striking in comparison to Sebastian because Thorsten seems so #woke about everything. He understands subtle and not so subtle nods and hints from other queer people but does not make a fuss about them and immediately recognizes queerness (as opposed to Sebastian): Once again "Grabenkämpfe," where Thorsten never jokes about Julian Siebert's obvious interest in him. Also in "Hart an der Grenze" Basti treats them playing a gay couple as a fun joke while Thorsten is very much not amused - and there is just sth in the way he treats the topic so seriously that makes it seem as if it real to him. In "Anne und der Tod" they interrogate clients and stand in front of an old man who has pictures of him and another man on his shelf and wall, and while Sebastian very innocently asks whether that's his brother or son, Thorsten's behavior suggests that he caught on instantly that the old man is in fact gay and that those are photos of him and his late partner.

actively against homophobia: When an old man makes a homophobic remark at him and Sebastian, he immediately grabs Sebastians hand to make that man uncomfortable and as a big fuck you and a way of saying, "Yeah people are queer, get over it, old man!!"

never denying, never clarifying: As much as men flirt with him or people assume he's gay, Thorsten never denies it and never clarifies that he is, in fact, heterosexual. Never! Best example is (once again) "Grabenkämpfe" when his neighbour spots Thorsten at a gay bar with another man and says that at least now she knows why he didn't have time for her - and Thorsten does not get defensive and screams sth like, "I'm not gay, I'm here for a case!", he just lets it slide. And remember when the Freigang boss derogatorily asked Thorsten whether he's gay but then later it seems that Thorsten had sex with a woman, to which the boss replies "Na egal, bin ja froh, dass du nicht schwul bist."? Thorsten once again does not outright say, "Genau, bin ich nicht." but instead replies, "Ich weiß." and looks sad and angry at this blatant portrayal of homophobia.

love confession: In "Die Nacht der Kommissare" Thorsten confesses his love to Sebastian while on drugs with a loud and clear "Sebastian? Ich liebe dich." He continues to confess his love to other men in that episode, but this "Ich liebe dich" feels very different, very sincere and from the heart. I like to read this scene as both a platonic and a romantic love confession.

There is probably so much more, but this is just from the top of my head. Moving on!

bi Basti <3 Sebastian is bi because it Just. Makes. Sense.!!!!!

the rise and fall of the Bootz family: I need to start with Julia and the kids because Sebastian is introduced as a happy, young family man who has basically achieved everything, both in his private life and career. His life as a husband and father is basically too perfect when we meet him, and of course it does crumble more and more into pieces with every new episode. We soon see tension in his and Julia's marriage, ultimately leading to their divorce and Sebastian's never-talked-about problem with alcohol and his separation anxiety. I encourage everyone to watch all the eps until "Spiel auf Zeit" as if Sebastian is falling out of love with Julia and in love with Thorsten (. . .is it possible to love two people at once? Good question, Sebastian).

Felix Klare supremacy: Even Felix Klare himself thought that Tatort was lacking diversity in terms of presentation of women and gay people back in 2013 and he advocated for becoming the first gay Tatort duo. Aber Richy wollte nicht. Tja.

bi in another universe: In "Tödliche Tarnung" we learn that Sebastian and Julia were once close to breaking up and Basti wonders how different his life could have been: "Julia, hast du dir schon mal überlegt, wie unser Leben verlaufen wäre, wenn, naja, wenn wir uns damals getrennt hätten?" Cue "Scherbenhaufen": When he is about to go undercover, he has to come up with a backstory for his character. And what does he do? Completely remove a wife and kids out of the picture and then says, "Ehrlich gesagt, ich hab sie dann mit meinem besten Freund betrogen." Kinda bi to make up a scenario in which he gets to be with Thorsten instead of Julia, if you ask me. And he looks so happy about it, too.

weird about queerness: Sebastian has always been weird about political correctness, and to me this reads as a defense mechanism, as a way to distance himself from queerness and treat it as sth "not concerning me". And yes, I do headcanon Basti as having serious internalized homophobia, why do you ask? I have yet to form proper thoughts about Basti's uncharacteristic compassion towards the gay man who has just lost his lover in "Vergebung", it feels so personally affected. What we can nevertheless witness, though, is some personal growth in that Sebastian is more comfortable with and knowledgable about queerness.

heteronormative worldview / hetcomp: Sebastian literally doesn't know that bisexuality exists. When he hears of married men (yes, there have been three such storylines. . . THREE!!!!) who had a secret lover on the side, he always assumes they were gay and never once considers bisexuality. Looping back to the Bootz marriage&divorce as well as the countless "secretly gay married men" trope, Basti is literally describing his life in "Vergebung" without acknowledging the parallels.

flirting with Thorsten: Of course, any straight man can flirt with his friends, but the way Sebastian does it is so "haha just joking!!! . . . unless 👀"-coded. First the pretend gay couple at the adoption agency, then another pretend gay couple in the waiting room, then the queer undercover persona plot twist. And look how flustered he gets when he gets flirted with.

honorable mentions: bi lighting, bi sitting, bi bi bi music.

Again, there is most definitely more and everyone is free to add on to my thoughts! 😌✌️

bonus: Are Thorsten and Sebastian in love? 👀 Yes, and as of February 2024 there are 32 episodes to prove it. Thank you for reading! 🫶

#tatort stuttgart #tatort #sebastian bootz #thorsten lannert #bi basti #schwuler thorsten #this took me literal hours but I enjoyed it immensely #can you tell I miss writing term papers?? yeah #once again I feel really honored about getting this ask so thank you 😌 #mehly asks #mehl stuff #detectivesergeanthelene