#shes so tiny she can just be plucked up like a cat

[neteyamsilly]

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

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

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

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

No answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Quaritch?” 

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

“In the flesh.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

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

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

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

“Fucking bastard—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guys, what’s going on…”

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

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

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

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

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

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

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

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

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

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

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

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

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re asking me?—”

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

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

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

“Great title for your autobiography.”

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

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded. “I know dad.”

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

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was mom. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you were tired. 

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

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

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

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

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

Got an ikran for nothing. 

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

But no words were exchanged about it. 

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

A ticking time bomb. 

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

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

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

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

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was over.

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

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

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

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

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

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

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

[libraford]

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

#parks and wrecks #life as a temporary twig pig

[abyssruler]

flowers and unplanned proposals

xiao x gn!reader

if someone gifts an adeptus with flowers, it means you are proposing to them, and if they take it, it means they accept the proposal. unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), you weren’t aware of such a custom. or — xiao thinks you’re married, but you just thought flowers would look nice on him.

fluff. comedy-ish. accidental malewife acquisition. featuring reader being clueless, xiao being hopeless, and lumine and hu tao being your biggest supporters

It started with a walk on the road as an acquaintance accompanied you.

There’d been a wild flower by the side, with white and lilac petals that you’d thought, rather presumptuously, would suit the dour faced adeptus beside you. So, you plucked it and impulsively handed it to him, a smile on your face and a shocked one on his.

His fingers closed around the flower’s stem, the stern lines of his face softening as he gazed at the tiny petals that glittered in the sun.

You’ve never been rid of him since.

Your friend Xiao could be described as protective at best and possessive at worst. It’s not a bad thing, of course! Caring for a friend is always a good thing in your books, but sometimes, you think he takes the word ‘caring’ to an almost extreme degree.

Take, for instance, now.

“Xiao?”

He hums from his spot on the sill of your window, not even sitting, no, he’s crouched on it, balanced on the thin ledge at the tips of his toes and keeping his eyes (which oddly glowed like a cat’s) peeled for any danger. Like this, he almost looks like a bird perched on a branch.

You let out an awkward laugh. “You know, I appreciate you doing this for me, keeping me safe and all, but I think I can spend the night on my own safely.”

His head whips to you so fast you almost feared he’d get neck cramps, an expression of surprise and… hurt? on his face.

“You… don’t want me here?”

You’ve never backtracked so fast in your life. “No! I mean, yes—but not in the way you’re thinking!”

He looks forlorn now, stepping down the windowsill and shoulders hunched in a similar manner to that of a cat pulling its ears down its head. “Is this what the Traveler meant by sleeping on the couch?”

You’re not sure what to do, but it seems like he wants to sleep on the couch? Puzzled, you smile encouragingly even though you don’t quite understand his words. “Er, if you want to sleep on the couch, you’re welcome to do so?”

His face falls.

✧

“And, I don’t know, he just became all—sad? Just, I felt so bad for basically kicking him out of my room, and now that I’m thinking more on it, I should’ve just offered to let him sleep beside me. Like a, um, a sleepover!”

There’s a distinctly bashful look on your face and, oh god, you’re drawing little circles on the table with your finger, an almost dreamy glint in your eyes.

Sweet Jesus that doesn’t exist in this world, Lumine is going to barf.

She slams her hands on the table, startling you in the process as she leans down and says with an exasperated face, “Have you considered that maybe you actually like him and he—”

“What?!” you squawk, mouth open in disbelief and a mortified look contorting your features. “That’s—don’t say such things, Lumi!”

She drops back down her chair, leveling you with a look that basically said, are you for real right now?

“It’s written all over your face—”

You quickly slap both hands on your cheeks, turning your head away. “I don’t like him! How could I ever… he’s an adeptus and I…”

“And you made an adeptus sleep on your couch,” Lumine deadpans.

She can feel the way your face burned at the reminder. You slump over the table, burying your head in your arms and bemoaning your decision. “I didn’t mean to disrespect him…”

“Oh, I’m sure disrespect was the farthest thing you did to him,” she mutters beneath her breath. Broke his heart, shattered his hopes and dreams, devastated him—Lumine can name a few more.

But then, you suddenly straighten up, determination lining your face. There’s a look in your eyes that tells Lumine she should probably stop you from doing whatever idiotic thing—however in good faith it might be—that you’re about to do.

“I should give him some flowers as an apology. He always gets so… not exactly happy but—warm, that’s it. He feels warmer whenever I give him flowers.” You smile, reminiscing on whatever moments you had with him. You stand up, looking down at the empty plates all over the table before looking at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, could you foot the bill this time?”

Lumine sighs. She’s still got money from the last commission Ningguang made her do, so she supposes she can do it. Just this once. “Fine, but you’re paying for our next outing!”

You beam, thanking her before running to the nearest flower shop or wherever it is you’re going to be getting those flowers from.

“Make sure to let him sleep on your bed next time!” Lumine yells to your retreating back, ignoring the strange, almost scandalized, looks from nearby patrons.

✧

You find him at your house, completely ignoring how strange it is that a friend has complete access to your house including a spare key and extra clothes on the closet just for him. It’s simply become the norm, is all. And he’s a good—you don’t quite know what to call him, roommate? you’ll settle for friend—friend, helping you with the chores and often accompanying you to the market when you need new groceries—but only during the early mornings, of course. You know how much he dislikes crowds.

“I’m home!”

The response comes immediate and, judging by the direction, it came from the kitchen, “Welcome home.”

The large bouquet of glaze lilies interspersed with roses and qingxin flowers is heavy on your arms as you walked to the kitchen. Xiao is there, a broom in hand which he sets aside once he sees you and what you’re carrying.

“Here!” You grin, extending the bouquet forward and into his arms.

He accepts it, a flush to his cheeks and looking distinctly flustered by the gift. “I… thank you.”

“It’s an apology.”

His eyes snap to yours, iridescent gold piercing through you. There’s something almost vulnerable in the way he’s gazing at you, hands tightening around the flowers.

You fiddle with your fingers. “Well, I wanted to say sorry for making you sleep on the couch. If you’d like, you can sleep beside me tonight.”

Something in him relaxes, tension bleeding out of his posture as he smiles, small and near unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know him so well.

For some reason, the sight of it makes your heart leap.

Lumine’s words repeat in your mind.

Have you considered that maybe you actually like him?

No, you think with dread, absolutely not.

✧

“Yes,” Hu Tao crows in delight, “You’re absolutely in love!”

“See, that’s what I tried to say yesterday, but nooo. Oh, Lumi, Xiao is just a friend,” Lumine grouches, imitating your voice and utterly failing because while she may be strong enough to fight monsters and gods, that girl has absolutely no talent when it comes to mimicking.

Your palms cover your face that feels warm to touch. “I do not sound like that. And it’s true, we really are just friends!”

“Of course, because friends do things like living together and sleeping on the same bed and holding hands—” You open your mouth to protest, but Hu Tao doesn’t let you interrupt, “—don’t deny it! I saw you last week near Liuli Pavilion, and he was holding your hand and carrying a bag of food!”

“He’s just really helpful! He’s an adeptus,” you argue, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

“And do all adepti live with a human, do they sleep with them—”

“You make it sound so lewd, Lumi!”

“—do they hold their hands and go grocery shopping at five in the morning with them?” Lumine pierces you with those honey gold eyes of hers. “Did you know I barely have anything to do in the Adventurer’s Guild here in Liyue besides babysitting and errands because someone—namely, an adeptus who coincidentally goes by the name Xiao—keeps killing all the monsters within the area?”

Hu Tao cackles. “He always asks about you whenever I encounter him at Wuwang Hill.”

You level her with an incredulous look. “What were you even doing there?”

“Hiding bodies, duh!” At your horrified look, she winks. “Just kidding!”

You shake off Hu Tao’s laughter and pinch your lips together. “Look, it’s—we’re just friends. That’s all there is to it.”

Lumine huffs, “Yeah, sure, because friends like you two give each other flowers everyday. How does your house still have space in it for more?”

You would’ve refuted her words, would’ve argued that no, you don’t give each other flowers everyday, just on a regular basis—but Hu Tao’s sudden silence concerned you more than what Lumine said. The funeral director turns her head to you with wide eyes.

“You gave him flowers?” she asks, an odd tone to her voice.

Your brows furrow at her uncharacteristic seriousness. “Um, yes? I do it all the time.”

She leapt forward, grabbing your shoulders and lips twitching into something you could almost call glee. “And he accepted it?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Hu Tao lets go of your shoulders to tilt her head back and laugh. Not the nice little giggles she does after a successful prank, no, this is more manic. The kind that wouldn’t make you think, oh how sweet, but instead makes you think, oh this girl belongs in a facility.

Even Lumine seems confused by her reaction, joining you in watching her like she’s just grown two heads. Hu Tao takes one look at both of your expressions and dissolves into another fit of laughter.

“Oh, dear. And you don’t even know what it means!” she says in between laughs.

Lumine, having had enough of being in the dark, grabs Hu Tao’s face with both hands and forces her to look at her in the eye. “What does it mean?”

Hu Tao grins, gaze darting to you. “When you give an adeptus flowers, it means you’re proposing to them.”

You and Lumine gape, understanding dawning on your heads, though there’s horror on your part at what it could mean.

But Hu Tao doesn’t stop there, “And if they take it…”

You await her next words with bated breath, Lumine seemingly on the edge of her seat as well.

“…It means they accept your proposal.”

Lumine’s screech of delight at this newfound information drowns out the metaphorical sound of your world falling apart and being built anew.

✧

You come home in a daze, eyes blankly staring ahead and unaware of your surroundings until you blink, and suddenly, you’re sitting at the dining table, a plate of steaming shrimp balls being placed in front of you.

Xiao crouches by your chair, examining your face with worried eyes. “Are you well?”

Your throat shrivels up. All the words and arguments you’d been planning to say earlier dying on your tongue. So, instead, you nod. He doesn’t outwardly look relieved, but the softness in his touch belies his care as he places a single stemmed qingxin flower on your palm.

It’s still fresh, you notice, dew gathering on the petals and the scent still present.

Xiao sits on the chair opposite yours, looking at anything and anywhere but your eyes. “I plucked it from the highest mountains of Jueyun Karst, blessed by Cloud Retainer and said to ward away unwanted dreams.”

You stare down at it, at the white petals that feel soft against the pads of your fingers, heart beating out of your chest and hands clammy and breaths labored, a pleasant twist to your gut as you realized that he’d gone out of his way to climb a mountain and have it blessed by an adeptus just to give it to you. There’s being friends, handing each other flowers they saw on the road or bought at a shop, and then, there’s this.

Your mouth feels dry, your chest feels full, and there’s something on the tip of your tongue begging to be let out.

“Xiao,” you start, finally gaining the courage to look up and meet his eyes. “What are we?”

His lips part, eyes widening the slightest amount that tells you he’s unsure what brought this question on and how to answer it.

You shake your head. “Never mind. Just tell me this—are we… engaged?”

At this, Xiao seems to relax. “No.”

You barely have the chance to feel a mix of relief and disappointment, though why you’d feel disappointment at having proof that you and Xiao really are just friends—

He smiles, a small one but no less brighter for it. “We are married, aren’t we?”

And oh.

Oh.

It’s not until now, with the confirmation of everything you dreaded (everything you’d hoped and wanted and yearned for desperately) that you realize how much you’ve longed for something more with him—how much you’ve longed for him.

“Xiao,” you say, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks aching with the intensity of your smile, “I love you.”

He startles, blinking up at you with wide eyes, red creeping up his cheeks, but before he can say anything you know he’s not quite prepared to say yet, you continue, still a little indignant at discovering you’d been married without a clue.

“But I demand a proper wedding ceremony!”

word count: 2.2k

edit: the semi part 2 y’all have been asking for

#if you’ve read my other xiao fic ‘the adepti’s guide’ i want u to know that this is a look into reader hu tao and lumi dynamic in the future #but more chaotic and insane #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #gn reader

[pfhwrittes]

housemate!kyle x gender neutral reader let's goooooo.

rating: PG-13 (for now) pairing: eventual kyle "gaz" garrick x gender neutral reader word count: 1.5k TW: bit of swearing, fluff, mentions of original characters AN: i fully plan on writing more of this, but i wanted to get the first part out before i start the next part. as always, barely edited so funky grammar and typos are still likely. this is completely self indulgent. please send love to @391780 for cheerleading me with this one!

–

your housemate sucks since meeting her new boyfriend. 

your normally sociable, polite and reasonable housemate has turned into some kind of lust-crazed succubus since meeting dale, spending hours upon hours of her time shut in her bedroom with him. and if she doesn’t shut the fuck up in the next five minutes you’re going to kick her door in. or castrate him. or possibly burst into sleep deprived tears.

“oh! oh god! fuck! dale, baby, oh my god!”

jesus fucking christ. it’s 4.30am and ruby is wailing like a cat in heat at the top of her fucking voice. she’s so loud you could swear she and her soon to be castrated boyfriend were fucking in your bedroom instead of the room next to yours. briefly you debate yelling at the top of your lungs but you don’t want to disturb the neighbours any further, so with a muttered curse you snatch your pillow and duvet off your bed and stomp downstairs to the living room so you can sleep on the sofa. 

you get settled onto the sofa and glare at the ceiling in the living room, the sound of rhythmic thumping and moaning still audible even with the increased distance between you and the nymphomaniac formerly known as ruby. you mutter and grumble to yourself as you shut your eyes trying to get at least a little bit of sleep before needing to get up for your job interview in the morning. 

–

at midday you kick the front door shut behind you and shrug your coat off your shoulders as you step further into the hallway. 

“hey i’m home!” you call up the stairs, “my job interview was an utter shit show so i’m thinking we get a chinese and a bottle of wine to commiserate, yeah?” you pause waiting to hear ruby’s usual reply reminding you not to order from the golden palace but silence greets you instead. 

“huh. weird.” you mutter to yourself as you pass through the living room, dropping your bag and coat on the sofa as you beeline towards the kitchen. ruby’s probably making something for lunch while listening to one of her creepy true crime podcasts. 

“hey ruby - oh.” you cut yourself off as you walk into the kitchen, no sign of ruby except for the used butter knife leaving a greasy smear on the counter and a pink post-it note stuck on the front of the fridge. you step forward to pluck the note off the fridge and squint at ruby’s loopy handwriting.

gone 2 stay w/ dale 4 a few days! look after widget for me - r xxxx

you huff a breath out of your nose and crumple the note into a ball so you can pop it in the kitchen bin with the crumbs you sweep off the side into your palm. ugh. it’s such a little thing but you feel frustrated tears well up in your eyes in response to having to clean up after ruby once again on minimal sleep. 

a tiny high pitched mrr! interrupts your internal grumbling and you turn around to face the little tabby that is waiting patiently by an empty food bowl. 

“hiya widge, have you been a good girl while i’ve been out?” you ask softly as you crouch so widget can bonk her head onto your outstretched hand. typically widget doesn’t answer but she chirps again before padding back to her bowl, politely requesting that you get with the programme and make with the biscuits before cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. 

you sigh and push yourself up from the floor, just another half finished job left for you. great. 

–

a week later, with no sign of ruby and your texts unanswered, your laptop chimes on the coffee table with a new email. you hope briefly that it’s one of the companies you’ve applied to responding to your application with an offer for a job interview, but your heart sinks as you realise it's an email from your landlord, john. 

you skim over the email and you feel your eyes sting as select phrases leap out at you. “i’m sorry to inform you that ruby has decided to end the tenancy agreement at 141 hereford way early” ... “you can choose to remain in the property as a sole tenant after an additional credit check to ensure your affordability” … “alternatively, please let me know when ruby has collected her belongings so i can advertise the room to other prospective tenants”. 

fuck. that utter bitch. she’s left you unemployed and now potentially living with a total stranger. fuck. 

your hands shake slightly as you reach for your laptop so you can start composing your reply to john. 

“hi john, thanks for letting me know. i haven’t heard from ruby in a week now, so i’m unsure when she’ll be able to collect her belongings but i think it’s probably for the best if you look at advertising her room as available to rent. i’ll start bagging up her belongings today. kind regards….” 

it’s official. your soon to be ex-housemate really fucking sucks. 

–

several days pass with a flurry of emails to john and even more unanswered texts to ruby, when a solid jaunty knock startles you out of the doze you’d dropped into on the sofa. you hiss as widget launches herself off your stomach using her claws for purchase so she can bolt up the stairs away from the noise. you swear under your breath as you kick one of the six black bin bags that line the hallway filled with ruby’s crap as you edge your way to the front door. the silhouette you can see through the frosted glass in the door knocks again just as you reach for the handle and pull the door open. 

“yeah yeah i’m here -” you cut yourself off with an embarrassed sound as you get a good look at the man standing at the threshold.  oh no, he’s fit as fuck is your first thought and you’re not wrong. 

the first thing you notice, as you flick your eyes over him quickly, is that he’s in incredible shape. the stranger has broad shoulders and a muscular chest that tapers off into a narrow waist. the second thing you notice when you raise your gaze back up to his face is that he has a jaw dropping smile when he flashes you a friendly grin. 

“hey, i’m kyle. your new housemate.” he says confidently, “john should’ve mentioned me.” 

you shake yourself out of the slight daze you’ve found yourself in - seriously no man should have skin that perfect - and you offer your own tentative smile back. 

“uh, yeah. sure. sorry i was -” you glance back into the hallway and cringe at the sight of the black bin bags “- um. in the middle of something.” you finish weakly, hoping you don’t look too obviously like you’ve been napping in the middle of the day. 

your housemate - kyle - rumbles out a slightly bashful chuckle. 

“no, no it’s fine. i would’ve been here earlier but i had to give a witness statement for the accident on the high street.” kyle reaches up and tugs at the brim of the scuffed blue baseball cap on his head awkwardly. 

“oh shit, really? what happened?” you query him eagerly, your love of gossip overriding your mild embarrassment in a flash. kyle’s eyes crinkle happily at your tone and he leans in conspiratorially, letting his hand drop away from his face. 

“some guy walked into an open manhole cover.” he says with a completely straight face. 

you burst out a startled laugh. “no fucking way!” 

kyle nods, his lips twitching in a poorly concealed grin. “yeah, stuck like winnie the pooh, i swear to god.” 

you have to hold onto the edge of the open door to stop yourself from collapsing into fits of laughter. “how -” another gleeful cackle escapes you before you can compose yourself, “how the fuck did he manage to do that?”

kyle shrugs. “he just walked straight through the barrier, surprised the lanky fucker missed it really.” 

you collapse into laughter again, feeling your cheeks ache from the width of your grin. holy shit, that’s the best thing you’ve heard all day. eventually your slightly hysterical laughter peeters out and you wipe at your eyes as you look at kyle who is grinning back at you. 

“so, fancy letting me in then?” he nudges at the frankly massive khaki rucksack at his feet after a moment of silence as if to remind you that he isn’t just here to charm you with silly stories and his offensively handsome good looks. your embarrassment flares once again as you realise you’ve just been looking at him instead of asking him to come inside like a normal person. 

“sorry, yeah of course.” you step back from the door and turn around so he can’t see the way your cheeks are now flushed from embarrassment instead of laughter. “sorry about the mess.” you say apologetically over your shoulder as kyle follows you into the hallway.

“oh i dunno, it doesn’t look too bad to me.”

you hear kyle kick the door shut behind him and you laugh again to cover up the way your stomach flutters at his tone. if you didn’t know better you’d say he was flirting with you, but you discount that as wishful thinking on your part as you lead him towards the stairs. 

it is wishful thinking, right?

#housemate!gaz #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gender neutral reader #is that p starting a new wip series based on a whim? why yes it is! #smut is coming (no pun intended) but i wanted to post the set up straight away #eventually i'll cross post this over to ao3 #kg

[taduki]

M6 w/ an MC Who Babies Their Familiars

Asra

Faust is soaking up all of the attention. She is with you all the time and prefers it that way.

She is so situational in her interactions with you. You would be getting ready to boil some noodles and Faust would just appear in the empty pot you laid out. This is her pot now. You must find another one.

Asra was genuinely concerned the first time they saw it happen. Why are you making Faust noodle soup.

Lovesss getting tickled and traveling with you. Pokes her head out to peek at everything. Also, Faust flower crown.

She has a little nest made of yours and Asra’s gift trinkets. Okay, maybe not all of them were gifts… Perhaps they were stolen, but who’s checking?

If you like to, she luvvvs sharing bubble baths with you!! With the wide variety of bath products Asra brings every trip, you never run out of options and adventures.

Julian

Big ol’ crow nose all up in your business.

Always around you when Julian is writing something down because he’s joked about plucking one of his feathers to use as a quill, and now he doesn’t trust him enough to be around him while he works.

Will sit on your shoulder or head and peck at your earrings (or anything shiny, honestly).

Julian is a little jealous.

You make up for it by holding conversations with Malak in front of him. He gets so mesmerized, like are you actually able to understand him?? Asks you to tell him he’s a gander egg* and Malak immediately assaults him in a flurry of squawks and feathers.

He allows you to feed him out of your hand like a majestic fairy. Yeowch. Crow nose sharp.

Portia

How can you not love that kitty face.

She loves sniffing you up and down, head to toe. Sniff her back and she’ll whack you.

Totally a lap cat. Also a head cat. Sits gracefully on either you or Portia’s face at night.

By far the biggest suck up out of the familiars. Snack? Treats? Food time? She rolls all over the floor and yeowls until you give in. For the sake of Portia’s sanity, this may be preferable. Keep the kitty at bay and she won’t annoy her as much.

Portia is both relieved and a teeny tiny bit jealous that you’re the favorite now… She finds it cute when she walks in on Pepi purring on you like a big baby. Little kitty kissies are all over your cheeks and yes, Portia insists on overtaking them with her own kissies.

Nadia

Chandra is NOT baby.

Unless there are treats involved, in which case she is SOOO baby.

She is not a very cuddly, lovey dovey dove. She expresses her love through acts of service like bringing things for or checking up on you.

It’s no secret Nadia loves to treat you and her bird with rich delights. So, if you assist Chandra in luxurious baths or patrols, she will linger around you more often. Nadia is pleased to see her trailing behind you around the palace.

She fixes your hair from time to time. She sees it as a give and take relationship.

As such, she’s begun to imitate your mannerisms. You tilt your head when you’re confused? She tilts hers. You flutter your eyelashes? She flutters hers back.

Nadia is squealing deep down, watching you two mimicking each other.

Muriel

Inanna is a little finicky in the way that she takes care of you like a mother, but will accept any and all belly rubs.

She’s perfectly capable of feeding and caring for herself! With that being said, she likes receiving scratches behind the ears in the bath.

Please note that she does not care for strong, unnaturally scented care products… Last time, you picked up a rosemary scented shampoo, thinking it would be natural smelling enough. Alas, she took one whiff of it and ran behind Muriel’s legs…

Give her the green light to lay down on top of you and, congratulations! It is now your daily nap time!

She’s very careful not to trip you, but loves nudging her head against your legs. You can never tell whether she's asking you for head pats or asking you to move out of the way.

Every time you come back from the market, she's got her nose all up in the bag because she knows you got SOMETHING for her.

Lucio

Now THIS is what they’re talking about!

Give them petting. Give them treats. Give them kisses. Brush them. Hug them.

Is it possible to give too much attention to dogs? You’re not sure what the limit is, but they make it very clear you are nowhere near it…

Lucio starts to get a teeny tiny bit jealous when they start barreling towards you and not him when you guys come home. His initial response is to show great disdain towards them until they feel sorry, but he eventually resorts to sweeping you off your feet so the dogs jump all over the both of you.

Don’t worry. They will cushion the fall.

They like to play peekaboo!! Their big cold ‘n slobbery snouts and puppy eyes are all up in your face. Enjoy!

One sleeps close to your back. The other sleeps close to your stomach. They r pillows. :)

* A gander is a male goose. Saying ganda egg basically means rotten egg.

#portia devorak #the arcana x mc #portia the arcana #the arcana imagines #the arcana portia #lucio the arcana #the arcana muriel #nadia the arcana #the arcana nadia #asra the arcana #the arcana julian #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hcs

[infernalodie]

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐚 || 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

“𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯' '𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘮𝘮 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦'𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦“

Inspo: Billie Eilish - Billie Bossa Nova

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Summary: No one can truly resist their truest desires.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, pet names, spit kink, sub!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!reader, and maybe a tiny bit of fluff at the end.

Words 1639

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

Banished from Asgard, you had been forced to live a needless life in Midgard. It had been Odin’s way of punishing you for going against his and Hela’s words. So, you had been faced with the punishment of living out your days on Earth, where everything just seemed less than everything back home.

And it took centuries before anything eventful happened. The emergence of the Avengers occurred with a very familiar face within the group.

Thor did not know who you were, but he knew by the wings attached to your back that you were one of the greatest Valkyries to ever live. The one his father told him stories about and how you had been able to wipe out an army with a single strike. Although it may have been exaggerated, it had gotten you a new breath of fresh air and an inning with the Avengers.

See, you were a hybrid from the rest of the Valkyries. One in a million chance of occurring. You had been born with wings. So, as much as Odin didn’t want to admit it, banishing you had been his greatest loss. But Thor had expressed how much your strength and abilities would be an asset to them. Everyone had agreed and welcomed you in with open arms.

But one woman had a rope around your heart and it had been Natasha Romanoff. Her hair was the colour of Musphelheim and her eyes were green like Helheim. And her beauty met no bounds at how alluring she could be. Maybe it had been your depravity of seeing women or touching one for ages, but you couldn’t help yourself from becoming attached.

Every advancement you made on her was denied narrowly by the woman avoiding your hands. Or the times you had snaked your arms around her waist, pulling her flush to your chest and using your wings to cover the both of you. It never last long because she grabbed one of the feathers and plucked them off, causing you to let go of her.

She was an interesting woman that you couldn’t get enough of. Her flushed features when you towered over her by two feet and how she shivered in your touch. It was enough to be willing to keep playing this cat and mouse game with the little spider.

Tonight though, you had exited your room and made your way to the main lounge of Avengers Tower. Entering, you found Natasha sitting on the couch alone watching TV. You moved silently to grab yourself some water, chugging that down before making your way to the ethereal woman.

Carefully lifting yourself onto the back of the couch, you placed your hands over her eyes. Leaning down for your hot breath to fan the shell of her ear. “Hi, little spider.”

For the first time, Natasha didn’t abruptly move away. She merely gasped. Staying still as ever with her breathing suddenly becoming erratic. An open-lipped smirk crossed over your face with your tongue poking against your canine. So sensitive to touch. Such a sweet little spider for you.

Shimming her forward, you slid between her and the back of the couch. The cushioning comforted you as your arms snaked around her torso. The placement right beneath her breasts that were covered by a lousy sports bra. You gently pushed up, hearing her let out cute little noise.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t ya?” You murmured, palms pressing to her stomach. You enjoyed the way she shivered and involuntarily leaned into your front. Hoping to find more warmth that could surround her.

But Natasha tried to regain her barrings, focusing on the TV. Except, you proved it to be a challenge when your fingertips gently traced shapes into her stomach. “You are persistent, Y/n.”

Her eyes fluttered shut when your tongue pressed to her left shoulder blade and slowly began to go up. The wet sensation only caused goosebumps to rise from her flesh as you went up her neck, and then to her ear where you flicked her earlobe. A hum vibrated from deep inside your chest as you breathlessly chuckled in her ear.

“Only for the ones that deserve my attention, spider.”

Natasha bit down, hard, on her bottom lip as you began to toy with the knot on the front of her sweatpants. “But I was beginning to wonder when you would give, Nat,” you began. “I thought you would continue running like you were so innocent to the acts that I had in mind. But, your just a dirty little whore, aren’t you?”

You breached the hem of her sweatpants, fingers coming into no contact with underwear. A hearty chuckle fell from your lips, causing Natasha to whimper. “It’s like you were waiting for me, spider. Is this all for me, darling?” You inquired, fingers diving through her folds and becoming drenched.

There was no way she could deny that she had been hoping you would find her like this one of these nights. She knew you were a night owl and preferred night to day. Maybe it was because you liked the safety net of not being seen when you flew around New York. Or you might’ve just hated the sun. Whatever it was, she had been waiting at night for you some time to come out and finally do something with no one else around.

For months you had been playing with her, chipping away her being until finally reached the part you sought. It’d been working her up and she needed to find some way to get over it. So, tonight, she had no problem fingering herself, but you managed to ambush her. Thankfully not seeing how wet her fingers were.

Suddenly, she felt a hand gently cup her jaw and force her to look up. Finding your upside-down image smiling down at her. “I was thinking about you,” she confessed shamefully, face heating up and turning beat red. She closed her eyes when she found your smile to grow.

You tilted your head, thumb forcing her lips to part. Slowly, you let a drool of spit fall on her tongue before closing her jaw. She swallowed without question, eyes reopening to see a light shade of pain adorning your cheeks.

Letting her go, you continued to allow your fingers to softly rub through her folds. Loving the sweet little noises that came from the former assassin. It amused you. How someone can be so feared but so malleable in your hands? Like your own little toy.

“Y-Y/n - Please!” She whined, leaning her head back and pressing her lips to your neck.

“Since you were so polite,” you paused. “I guess I can be kind enough to give you everything you want.”

Slowly, your first finger pushed through her drenched entrance. You fell short of breath when you felt her plush walls squeeze around your digit. Her body erupted in sweats from the pleasure finally given to her. She was a blessed sight to behold. Better than anything back in your homeworld.

Natasha’s body tensed from the intrusion, about to clamp her legs shut, but you lifted your feet and blocked them from closing. A whine fell from the woman’s lips as her hands grabbed at your sweatpants. Grabbing handfuls as you slowly thrust your finger into her. And slowly, you moved another one inside.

Her pussy swallowed it without question. Not only is she obedient, but her pussy was as well… Huh.

“Such cute noises,” you whispered. “I wanna hear these for the rest of my days, spider.”

“P-Please, go faster. I need you!” She begged helplessly, hips attempting to move forward and create a new pace that would sedate the hunger inside of her.

But from the rope she had around your heart, you felt like you had no choice but to listen to her command. Your fingers fucked her ruthlessly as you listened to the beautiful moans that fell from her lips. Hearing your name slip out like prayers for a god.

Your other hand slithered up and grasped her breasts. Her entire body reacted with her back arching as you gently squeezed and needed at the flesh whilst you laid kisses along her jaw. Eyes seeing her up close features and seeing how her face was scorched red and beads of sweat rolling down her temple.

She’d been needing this as much as you have.

And gradually, you whittled her down to a whimpering and crying mess. Tears stained her cheeks adorably as she begged you to never stop, even though her legs were twitching with an oncoming orgasm. So, you fucked her harder with your fingers, curling them and pressing them to her velvet walls.

Until finally, she came. You watched her with a smirk as her body arched and shake with the earth-shattering orgasm. Her eyes rolled back as her legs fought to shut, but you allowed your fingers to continue pounding into her without remorse.

Soon enough, she was panting and left on the couch, half-awake as you stood above her. Your large figure casts a show over her and your wings block out the TV’s light. Her flushed features and twitching legs made your heart swell. A grin formed on your lips as you sat down on the edge of the couch, hearing her soft snores slip out.

Even now, in this exhausted state, she looked heavenly. A sacred piece in Odin’s treasury. She was the most sacred of them all and you would do anything to protect her. You couldn’t think of life if you hadn’t met your little spider.

“My little spider.” You leaned down, wings curling around the two of you as you moved her hair out of her face and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Come to me when you need.”

#natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel x fem!reader

[robo-milky]

NEW YEAR CLOCHE AND ROOK ARE SOOO CUTE TGT!!!!! I LOVE HER QI PAO ACTUALLY WIWMWMWKWKKWKW-

Chris hear me out…. Cloche restocking the shelves, and struggling to reach the top most one…. And Rook just sweeping in, gingerly plucking whatever goods are in Cloche’s hands. Ah, allow him to assist you, Cloche darling. With his back slotted against hers, stretching over her head to place the goods where they should be….

Maybe even grazing her chin with his fingers, tilting her face upwards to face him… the ghost of a smirk dancing across his cheek…

The brainrot ok- also randomly you know the beckoning cat? The 发财猫 (?) the little guy you see waving outside stores? Rook just holding cloche up outside the store like the lion king meme💀

New Year cards give me so much brainrot tbh including cater’s stupid fucking card I want to chew him so bad

WE STAN NEW YEAR CLOCHE DRIP!!!!! (Please give me a discount I am going broke)

Happy New Years, Ceru! I’m wishing all the best for you too <3 TYSM for popping by and I’m glad you liked her qipao 😭 (Girlie will not culturally appropriate… until she does- /j)

[Response]

• First of all… whAT THE HELL IS THIS NEW YEARS FIRECRACKER—?????!?!!?!

• C-C-Cloche is gonna do her best to be the best volunteer she can be and goddamn it, Rook! Don’t make it seem like she only took the job just for him- (she prolly did let’s admit it-). C’mon Rook, where’s your fighting spirit to have the best team and get the special bonus?!?!? No distractions !!!!1!1!1!1!1! I stg one of them will be “grounded” cause of this-

• …you’re not even ghost marriageable, rook… trying to show off and reach whatever shelf you can… waiting for him to be humbled when there’s a shelf even he can’t reach I’m- 😭

• Rolling on the hills and screaming at the top of my lungs you just had to infect me with more brainrot for this man… I’m gonna get you for this someday…

• Ah, the maneki neko ✨Love those lil guys fr. Imagine Sam having a broken one and then the Rook&Jade team swooping in all like “I have an idea for a replacement, if you’d let us” *cue scheme*

• Rook would most definitely hold up Cloche like that at one point- Only Rook cause… A) Cloche would have scratched Jade B) Rook may or may not want others touching what’s his in such a vulnerable state- I’m sorry I’m being so delulu rn I cant cry sobbing this is fanon event rn-

• …I’d also like to envision that Rook burst into tears whenever he comes in contact with Cat! Cloche because she’s just so tiny and weak/deformed???

• Cater wants to play hagoita with you so bad. …The 50 thaumarks will be worth it! Once the whole New Years sale is wrapped up, you may or may not have a surprise gift or two waiting for you. Cater just wanted to earn back the cash he’s blown, and he did, and what else was he to do with the special bonus?

• You’ll always have a discount, Ceru <3 Cater may or may not have passed on a little message to the third year part timers ;)

#I’m gonna bite you fr someday 😩😩 #I just wanted a peaceful new year 😭😭😭 #just a poor maid here ;; #cat scratches 🌸 #meowing 🌸 #mutuals 🎊 #ask 🎊 #oc: cloche🎊 #rookloche #twst rook

[hiramaris]

Dusk Fragments #1

Summary: A night of drinking, a group of friends, and two people returning to town. What could go wrong? Pairings: Jessy x Gender Neutral MC

Note: Had this on my mind for quite a while. This one-shot follows Dusk til Dawn. The timeline isn't clear here.

“I don’t think drinking and partying is such a good idea right now.” Cleo mused against her drink, the condensation on her glass forming tiny beads. She eyed the swirling liquid thoughtfully, her expression pensive. Despite her verbal disagreement, she downed her margarita in one go, barely wincing at the tangy taste.

Dan scoffed at that, knowing fully well where this conversation was going. “It’s been months. No one died. What better way to celebrate than being wasted?”

Lilly, seated next to Cleo, leaned forward, her gaze serious. “Hannah and Richy are still under court-ordered psychiatric evaluation and treatment,” Lilly emphasizes as if everyone has forgotten that fact. “Y/n and Jake are nowhere to be seen. So, I don't think these counts for a celebration.”

Jessy froze at the mention of your name, her hand pausing in mid-air as she played with her Mimosa.

For months, she had tried not to let your name linger in her mind for longer than necessary. It still hurts to think about you. Despite the fact that Agent Hartmann– Charlotte, Jessy corrected herself, already explained everything, it did nothing to quell the pain she was feeling.

Because why couldn’t you just tell them all those things yourself? Why couldn’t you just come back?

“But did they die?”

“Dan!” Cleo admonishes him.

“What?” He shrugged as he plucked a chilled martini glass from the shelf. “I’m just saying,” he continued as he went back to face them and to prepare Lilly’s drink. “Out of all the possible worst-case scenarios, we managed to get the best one. I’m not saying y’all need to trash out and get wasted, but I don’t think Y/n did all this for us to just sulk in our homes forever. We deserve this after all the hell each of us went through.”

“That’s true,” Phil popped out beside him, placing another Mimosa in front of Jessy despite the redhead's protest. “I never thought I’d get out of that stinky place they called prison after a certain someone” he eyed Dan accusingly, a smug smirk on his face “testified against me. So, drink up! Celebrations are in order!”

“For the love of— I already said sorry!” Dan yells at Phil’s retreating form, his voice drowning from the music reverberating around the Aurora bar.

“Sorry won’t cut it, Pal! You still have 6 months left of voluntary work before you get your wage!” Phil shouted back in a sing-song voice before disappearing into the stockroom.

“He won’t ever live it down, y’know?” Jessy allows herself to smirk at Dan’s guilty face. The man got an earful from her when she learned about what he did. If she were the same person as before, she would have never forgiven him but she’s a changed person now. At least that’s what she likes to think. Dan means well despite his impulsivity.

“I know,” Dan grumbled as he placed Lilly’s cosmopolitan in front of her.

The blonde eagerly sips her drink, humming in satisfaction, her body slightly swaying to the music. “Fuck it, I guess we do deserve to lose out a little.” Lilly perks up when ‘Streets’ begins blasting from the bar's speakers. The lights turned a deep hue of red as if to accentuate the mood of the song. “Oh my god! I love Doja Cat! Come, Cleo. Let’s dance!”

Cleo had no choice but to finish off her drinks before allowing the youngest Donfort to drag her to the nearest dance floor.

“She’s getting drunk,” Thomas commented quietly as he observed them.

“Oh, Lilly? Let her.” Dan leans a bit on the counter. “What about you, Tommy? What can I get for you? You’ve been awfully quiet since you came here.”

“I don’t think it’s such a great idea. Someone needs to be sober around here.”

Dan chuckles at that. “Still a wimp,” he teased. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to drink tonight. Not until Y/n comes back to keep their promise and buy me a drink. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Fine.” Thomas sighed. “After what happened I guess I need a hard drink. Give me some Negroni.”

“Right away, sir.”

Jessy waited for Dan to get away from earshot to get some vermouth from the stock room before addressing Thomas. “Have she talked to you, yet?”

Thomas pursed his lips, his gaze shifting to the swirling liquid in Jessy’s glass. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, his voice tinged with a sense of longing.

“Not since… that day.” He went quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I miss her, a lot.” He admitted. “But I’m trying to understand her. What happened was shitty. I don’t think 6 months of treatment would suffice to get over a trauma.”

“Any news about their development?”

Thomas sighed, his gaze distant as he delved into the subject. “Well… she’s starting to at least connect with her family. Lilly says it’s just about trivial matter and Hannah seems to be avoiding the topic being discussed just yet. About Richy…” he trailed off. “he’s doing okay, I guess. I talked to him a little while ago and he said he was truly sorry about what happened.”

“Do you… forgive him?” Jessy questions tentatively, her gaze fixed on Thomas, searching for his thoughts on the matter.

Thomas swallowed, fists curling into a fist. “I do. He’s my friend.” He met her eyes, his own ones going mist. “It’s just quite difficult to forget what he had done.”

“I know…” Jessy murmured, her tone reflective, finally downing her first mimosa. The contrasting flavors of bitterness, sweetness, and tanginess played against her tongue, much like the conflicting emotions she was feeling. “Richy doesn’t want to talk to us. I tried to… y’know but he pushed me away.”

“He was afraid. He doesn’t trust himself around you girls.”

“Oh,” was all that Jessy could say.

Maybe you and Richy have a lot more in common than she expected.

Like making decisions for everyone instead of asking them directly. She doesn’t get why both of you chose to keep everything to yourselves.

“Y/n,” Thomas suddenly says. “Do you still think of them?”

“Every day,” she found herself whispering. “I don’t think I had ever stopped.”

“Wow, I just went away for a minute or two and everything suddenly got sentimental.” Dan’s voice joined the conversation. He raised an eyebrow at the two as he began to mix Thomas’ drinks.

“It’s nothing!” Jessy tried to laugh, shoving her empty glass towards Dan. “I want another Mimosa. I’ll be back. I just need to go to the bathroom for a sec.”

“Hey! You still have a full glass of Mimosa here!” Dan calls back to her, but Jessy continues to her destination, brushing through sweaty bodies. She really needs to pee.

More importantly…

She also needs to cry.

Damn it. This is what she’s talking about. Just give her a couple of seconds to think of you and then no more than later her eyes turn into a waterwork.

“Jessy?” Well, that’s a voice that sounds familiar.

She whirls on the spot, and she has little time to even out her voice to mask her surprise. “Alica?”

Luckily, she managed to do it.

Because never in those three years, she has expected to see Alica Roth in the arms of her ex-boyfriend, Norman White.

It took all self-control for Jessy not to give any sort of reaction. What she told you was true. She never made an effort to know whom her ex had cheated her with due to fear of actually knowing who that person might be.

And just her luck, it seemed Alica was the person Norman fucked while being in a relationship with her.

“Oh, hi!” She put on a tight-lipped smile at the two. “I didn’t know that you two…” she tried to laugh. “How long?” She just wanted to know if her theory was true.

Norman has the audacity to look so smug about it, pulling the girl closer to him by the hip as if to rub salt in her wounds. Not that there’s any wound to begin with.

“Two years,” he answers with his typical boyish grin that Jessy used to swoon at. Well, not anymore.

And two years? He was still dating Jessy at that time!

This piece of crap really did cheat on her with Alica, and they even have the decency to flaunt it right on her face. Alica is no better; she knew Jessy was in a relationship with him and yet she allowed Norman to pursue her.

“I heard about what happened. I’m really sorry about Hannah and Richy.” Alica mentions, and Jessy doesn’t know if the girl is even genuine about it. “It must have been stressful for you guys.”

“It was.”

Norman straightened out, his arms falling from his side. “Well, you certainly didn’t look stressed at all,” he eyes her up and down unabashedly. “I mean don’t get me wrong. I know you are but what I was trying to say was you look as dashing as ever.” He finished his babbling with a grin.

Alica raised an eyebrow at his comment before turning her attention back to Jessy with the most faux smile she had ever seen in her life.

“He’s such a sweet guy, right? Always thoughtful with girls even if he already has a girlfriend.”

If she wasn’t sure before, Jessy is sure as hell that’s definitely sarcastic now.

“Oh, I know.” Jessy’s smile was just as fake.

“Of course,” as oblivious as ever, Norman beamed. “I even chatted that Y/n when Lilly posted about that video. Because y’know, I don’t like it when women get hurt.”

Jessy furrows her brows at that. What’s that even supposed to mean?

And wait, what?! He had chat Y/n which means he was one of the locals who harassed Y/n!

“Hey, y’all. I heard my name so would you mind if join in?”

****

“Do you think this is a good idea, Y/n?”

You turned to Jake, a smug smirk dancing across your lips. “Well, considering the last mission you need to do in order to grant your defection to the Agency has gone very well, I don’t see the problem in going back here. Plus,” your grin widens. “You have to be here. I don’t want Lilly to kill me so you have to protect me against her wrath.”

Jake chuckles at that. “You just took down twelve men just a couple of hours ago, and you mean to tell me you are afraid of Lilly?”

“It’s different,” you retorted, parking the car in the designated place Phil had made for you. You closed the door shut. Jake follows you after. From here you can already hear the music blasting inside. And judging from the disco lights you’re seeing peeking from the gates; you knew this is going to be one hell of a night.

“How do I look?” you turned to Jake as you tried to brush off imaginary specks of dust from your shirt. Not that it would make any difference. The glaring bruise on your cheek and a cut to the lip wouldn’t go unnoticed anyway.

“Like you just went on a mission.”

“I’m going to tell Aerith to dump your ass.” You narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t see his whole face because of his mask but you didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes at you. “Hey, I saw that!”

Jake just shook his head and pushed you inside– forcefully.

“Just go inside and go restore your love life.”

The stench of alcohol and sweat greeted your nostrils and you didn’t bother to hide the look of pure disgust on your face, The lights were off inside but the illumination coming from the disco lights created a swirling pattern of abstract forms that gracefully blended with– is that ‘streets’?!

And is that Lilly dancing with Cleo?! If you can even call that dancing.

You snorted at the sight. The blonde’s probably drunk but Cleo looks sober enough which made this whole thing funnier. The poor girl was so embarrassed with her friend.

“I didn’t know Lilly was a fan of Doja Cat.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

You could have sworn you saw Jake’s eye twitch at the sight of his sister dancing in the middle of the dance floor with men trying to dance with her only to be pushed away by Cleo.

Not long after, Jake pushed his way through the crowd and towards his sister. You can only wish the men around Lilly good luck because a pissed Jake is someone you wouldn’t want on your plate– ever.

Shaking your head, you made your way towards the bar without any announcement when your eyes spotted those familiar beards from miles away and Thomas’ signature beanie.

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Y/n?!” Thomas almost spat his drink on a very unsuspecting Dan.

You thought that was the funniest thing you have ever seen but looking at Dan, it was your turn to choke on your own spit. The man looked like he saw a ghost with the way his eyes widened.

“Thanks for accepting my invitation, Y/n.” Phil wraps his arm around you. Taking you away from the bar, much to Dan’s dismay.

“Hey! I was talking to Y/n!”

Phil only gave him the finger, laughing. “Sorry, pal but we got customers.”

Dan could only grumble in annoyance as a group of rowdy teenagers came stumbling on the bar, leaving his hands full at the moment.

“You looked like you just came from a fight,” he commented as he guided you towards a corner. The music in this spot had mellowed, allowing both of you to talk in a normal voice. “I assume you won as always.”

“Won’t you know it?” You grinned. “I suppose free drinks are in order tonight?”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Is that any way to talk to your brother-in-law?”

Your smile falters a bit. It’s been 6 months of radio silence. The last time you talked to her was when you left. You barely said goodbye. You barely gave any reassurance.

How could you though? How can you look at someone you love so much and tell yourself it’s time to go?

Would she still want you after all this time? Would she even want to talk to you?

“Is she mad at me?” You questioned quietly. The million-dollar question.

Phil noticed your apprehension, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Do you think I’ll invite you here if she hates you?”

“I mean if the invitation is out of spite, it is possible.”

He laughed. “You might want to get your head checked out, L/n. Unless you have a major concussion then you’re probably crazy to even be convinced that the kindest person in Duskwood hates your guts. Of course, she loves you shitless.” He took both of your shoulders, shaking you as if to take away those thoughts. “Listen, I didn’t just invited you here just to show gratitude for bailing me out. This is also me paying my sister back for all the shitty things I’ve done to her.”

His gaze suddenly flickered behind you, his grin coming back.

“Make my little sister happy, okay?” Without warning he pushed you forward. But not without whispering. “That’s her ex, Norman. Punch him in the face for me. Tata!”

You felt the world seemed to freeze before you when you finally saw her.

Ever since you came here you pretend to look around. You wanted to convince yourself that you’re just familiarizing yourself with your surroundings but the truth is…

I’m actually looking for you.

You can feel your chest starting to ache again. A frequent occurrence whenever you think of her. But seeing her again after all this time gives you a different kind of pain.

You find yourself walking towards her. Somehow, you’re thankful she has her back on you because it gave you a bit of time to prep yourself to face the redhead.

“He’s such a sweet guy, right? Always thoughtful with girls even if he already has a girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows raised when you finally got an earshot to the conversation Jessy was having with these people.

“Oh, I know.” Even with her back on you, you can notice Jessy was visibly tense. You frowned. Clearly, she’s uncomfortable. Just who the hell are these people?

“Of course,” the guy with a face you didn’t like boasted. So, this is the ex, huh? “I even chatted that Y/n when Lilly posted about that video. Because y’know, I don’t like it when women get hurt.”

“Hey, y’all. I heard my name so would you mind if join in?” That was the time you decided to swoop in.

You casually grab Jessy by the waist, far away from her so-called ex who doesn't seem to know how to read the room.

Telling by the lack of flinch, you know Jessy already knows it was you. If she was surprised at your sudden appearance after months of radio silence, she didn’t show it.

You put yourself between them. All the while, Norman looks a bit startled at your sudden presence. He was taken aback. He slowly backed away when he noticed your piercing gaze focused on him.

“It would be kind of rude to talk behind my back, right?” You went on. Flashing them a charming smile. You turn to Jessy, kissing her cheek. “Anyway, Dan sent me to tell you your Mimosa is good to go, babe.”

She kissed your cheek back, right across your bruise as if to tell you it didn’t go unnoticed by her. “Of course, love. Thank you!”

You fight a flush beginning to emerge on your cheeks at the endearment. But you find yourself not even trying to as the next words uttered by the woman in front of you were enough for you to grimace.

“Oh, my. I wasn’t informed you have such a hot company there, Jessy.” You could have sworn the woman batted her eyelashes at you unabashedly, making the ‘ex’ bristle next to her.

Jessy feigns a smile as she rests her head against your chest, “this is Norman and this is his girlfriend, Alica. Guys, this is my partner, Y/n.”

Norman held out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Normy.” You smiled, ignoring the wince on his face as you might have gripped his hand a little too hard.

“It’s a-actually Norman, not Normy.” He corrected with a strained smile.

“You’re the same Normy who harassed me on the phone right?” You raised an eyebrow, your gaze challenging.

“N-no. I…” he stuttered pathetically, making you grin wider.

“Call me Ali, dear.” Alica made a move to kiss your cheek and was about to do another one, but Jessy pulled you back to her, eyes openly glaring now. The blonde didn’t seem to care as she commented, “you smell good, and that bruise looks hot.”

You were quick to wipe off the kiss from your cheeks, not even bothering to hide it from Alica. You’re not entirely sure what was Jessy’s history with her aside from Normy here. But what you’re sure of is your girlfriend has a massive jealous streak.

You have come to know that for the first week you have known her. And if blonde here has known Jessy far more than you have, then she better know that the redhead is ready to bury her alive right now.

“What the fuck is that, Ali?” Norman was the first to react, glaring at you and his girlfriend.

“Chill out, hon. I was just–“

“We’re leaving.” Jessy cuts off curtly, pulling you away from the scene. She stopped in what you assumed to be a hallway to the comfort room. Pulling out a handkerchief and a bottle of alcohol, she began to dab the piece of cloth to your cheeks. “I’m going to kill her.”

You laughed quietly, “I bet you do.”

She furrowed her eyebrow but remained quiet as she finished the job. She even sprayed her perfume on your shirt as if to wipe any trace of the blonde in you. Or she’s probably marking you. Or both. In any case, you didn’t mind.

Your heart pounded as you raised your hands to cup her cheeks. Your thumb begins to stroke her cheek in a delicate manner, and your eyes wander around her face. You are now faced with the woman you have badly missed to the point it physically gives you pain just by thinking about it. You took your time to admire her face, now up close for the first time in how many months of not seeing it.

She looked a bit thinner. Up close, you can see the effects of the situation that fell upon her— the bags under her eyes due to spending sleepless nights and the worry lines starting to form on her forehead. But in your eyes, you have never seen such beauty. She still looked beautiful, nonetheless. She was still your Jessy.

“Sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t emphasize what for. Do you even need to?

Sorry for leaving. Sorry for keeping you in the dark. Sorry for hurting you.

But none of those came close to what left your lips.

“Sorry, I let her kiss me. I shouldn’t have–”

The laugh that escaped her lips was soft and rich. Her breath tingled against your cheeks as she leaned her forehead against yours, her arms secured around your neck. You knew then that she knows what you were apologizing for and it’s sure as hell not about letting Alica kiss you.

“Apparently, that woman just really likes stealing people I love. I suppose you’re not an exemption.”

“Hmm, so she was the girl.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a realization.

“Uhuh.” Jessy is a lot closer now, lips barely an inch that if you leaned a little closer you would be kissing her. Her fingers played with the baby hairs at the back of your neck making your breath hitched. And judging by the little smirk on her lips, you knew damn well she knows her effect on you. “I’m still mad at you.” She whispers and you note the faint smell of alcohol on her breath.

“I know.” You whispered just as quietly. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How so?” A dashing smirk spreads across her features, and for a moment, your eyes drift mindlessly toward her unsuspecting lips, loving the way they curl up in a low grin. At this point, the resistance to kiss her lips would probably be a battle already lost.

So you did.

You pecked her cheeks first, another one on the corner of her mouth, and then the other one for good measure. Peppering her kisses nonstop if you could. She can only laugh softly at your antics, loving the attention you give her.

And because your always motto is "to save the best for last" you took your precious time laying a long, slow kiss full on her lips. Her hands were eager to mess with your hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel the heat rising on your skin, her touches leaving trails of fire.

Not satisfied with the proximity, you pulled her closer. You even made your way to flip your positions, now pinning the redhead against the wall and a solid chest.

Her grip on your shirt tightens in such a way that she wants to pull it off you. At the back of your mind, you were aware that someone could walk in on you two almost eating each other's faces but you're usually clumsy brain was now foggier than you could remember as you were so busy latching your mouth against her neck and feeling Jessy tilting them to the side to give you better access. Her scent, warmth, and kisses consume you ent—

“Y/n?” You and Jessy froze. That was Phil’s voice!

The urgency in his voice was enough to cleanse your hazy mind, and without the overwhelming thoughts about your girlfriend which you may not guarantee wouldn't go past what is deemed to be inexplicit, you can now hear his voice clearer against the blasting music.

You only got a few seconds to detach yourself from a disappointed and irritated Jessy and fix your hair which she seems to love to mess with.

Despite the initial annoyance, the redhead still managed to have the audacity to flash you an amusing grin as she couldn't take her eyes off your already swollen lips, seemingly satisfied with her creation. And it's not like she's any better.

Sure, her hair's fine, but her lips are a bit bruised, too and there are patches of redness forming on the side of her neck courtesy of your mouth.

When Phil finally arrived inside the room, you managed to act like you were fixing your hair whilst Jessy was trying to fix her lipstick. From his point of view, it looks like you two were having the usual conversation and not shoving each other’s tongues down your throats five seconds ago.

"Did I interrupt something?" He questioned smugly, wanting to tease you but you weren't having any of it. You were too flustered to even function properly now.

"No," was Jessy’s quick reply, not trusting you to answer. She barely managed to hide her smile behind her own mirror.

Phil looks like he doesn’t believe that obvious lie and was excited to turn to you. "Man, you should have seen the pussy-ass bitch Normy and his girlfriend arguing at the parking lot. He was like ‘why the fuck did you kissed a random stranger?’ and Alica was like ‘Is it my fault Y/n is hot?’ and then he was like–" He wasn't able to continue his story as Jessy’s glare was so sharp, that it can dissect a living creature.

Her eyebrows were raised to the fullest and her gaze was unwavering, challenging her own brother to continue his story to the extent that she wouldn’t like where it would head.

If your blood earlier had rushed towards your cheeks, it now had drained the color on your face and you're practically choking on your own spit for the second time this night.

"– and I just want to say your drinks are ready. That's all." He finishes lamely.

You knew that's not what he was trying to say, but to save his life and maybe yours from the redhead’s wrath, he knew better than to continue his story.

"Oh, and Y/n?" You perked up from your sudden faux interest to the flickering sign of the comfort room down the hallway. Phil’s smirk returned full blast. "You got a little something here,” he motioned his fingers to his lips. “See you!"

Your hand flew faster than when Phil bolted out to grab Jessy’s mirror.

And to your horror, a thin line of smeared lipstick was visible at your bottom lip. It wasn’t noticeable enough to catch someone’s attention, but it is sure as hell noticeable enough for the likes of Phil. And he wouldn’t need to put two and two together to even know what you were doing earlier with his sister.

Jessy’s laughter came rumbling across your chest as she pulled you closer again.

And boy, you were right.

Tonight’s going to be a long night.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#duskwood #duskwood mc #duskwood jessy #duskwood jessy x mc #jessy x mc #mc x jessy #jessy hawkins #duskwood richy #duskwood dan #duskwood jake #duskwood lilly #duskwood cleo #duskwood hannah #duskwood fanfiction #no beta we die like amy

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Quick prompt for a friend - Master Chief finds a tiny cat

-

The second mission to secure supplies from a civilian depot had gone much better than his first attempt. This time John had been prepared for the onslaught of sights and sounds, the sheer number of people around him while out of his armor, and for the staring.

He even had a team specifically picked for the endeavor; the most leveled headed marines he had worked with recently made up the team that loaded into the road-approved warthog for a "grocery run". They stuck to the plan, loaded the cart with Spartan-like efficiency, and were in and out in under half an hour.

Exiting the structure, he relaxes as he finishes his headcount and they make their way to the car unscathed. John won't chalk this one up to a success until they're back on base, but he's pleased at how well he navigated the trip so far.

Kelly's sitting at the wheel of the vehicle, head bobbing to the radio as she scans the parking lot and waits for them to load the supplies.

John was just about to climb in when he hears it. A strange high pitched whine, short and clipped, but repeating frequently enough he can locate the source in the hedges surrounding the store's eastern side. It was distinct, different from the whistling of projectiles or humming whirs of alien weapons.

A signal to Kelly informing her to hold position and he walks towards it - hand hovering near his concealed MK50 Sidekick.

The sound gets louder and more frantic at his approach until he kneels a few meters away, body at an angle to become a smaller target. Cocking his head he narrows in on the source.

A tiny fuzzy creature about the size of his fist and covered in dirt mews at him as it waddles closer, meowing and hissing in tandem. Its eyes are unfocused and blue. John doesn't know anything about cats but he's never seen one with blue eyes, not in any of the pictures that have been shared with him. In recent months he's found out he's the namesake of a lot of pets; cats, dogs, and even a very stubborn tortoise.

The tiny thing must be a young kitten, too young to survive on its own, especially in a busy parking lot.

The choice is easy. John doesn't leave anyone behind.

The kitten hisses as he cups it in gun-calloused hands, fingers gently supporting fragile bones and fur. Tentatively he pets it, scratching under its chin and it vibrates - purrs - shaking its tiny frame.

He walks back to the warthog and the look Kelly gives him is as smug as he's seen her. Her eyebrow's raised and she appears to be biting the inside of her mouth while she turns down the music.

The marines are less reserved and clamor to see what the Chief picked up. He silences them with a hand while the other one is occupied. Their newest addition mews and one marine can't help but "aww" at the kitten before he's elbowed by his seatmate.

Kelly, nonplussed and more pleased than she should be, side-eyes him as he slides into the passenger seat and the warthog suspension shifts. "What are you going to call it?"

"Naming it would look like we're keeping it." He says, petting the kitten and plucking debris from its fur. He turns and hands a marine the card preloaded with credits and nods from the kitten to the store, and three of them are out of the car nearly as fast as Kelly.

She huffs a breath into the steering wheel, content to wait a bit longer.

"Thinking about 'Frederic'." John replies after a moment. The kitten is falling asleep in his hands and he shifts to tuck it against his jacket.

"Oh he would hate that." Kelly doesn't hide her smile now, a slight upturn of her mouth with a bright spark in her eyes.

"I know." John allows himself to slouch in the seat and watch the small ball of fur nap against him.

-

Edit: This fic now has fanart by the lovely fablepatron - link here

#my writing #John 117 #Kelly 087 #chief and his chieflings #this is not a halo blog #Master Chief is a few things. kind. a good teammate. and a shithead brother.

[shieldofiron]

I have more Big Billy for you 🪨

Big ass biggest humungo billy going lingerie shopping, all the ladies at the shop think he’s so sweet buying a nice lace set for his girlfriend ❤️

The lingerie looks tiny in his hands, as he gives it to Tiny! Steve, the perfect anniversary gift 🔥

“You have big hands,” The girl smiles, dimples flashing at him as he hands over the tiny lace thong and garter belt. It does look small in his hands, always does, but he’s checked the measurements a dozen ways. Personally.

Billy smiles back at her, eyes dripping all over her face, “Yeah, well you know what they say. Big hands… bigger heart.”

Her eyes dip to the deep v of his shirt, and she flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder, “Is that what your girlfriend says?”

Billy grins, resting his hand on the pale pink counter, “Something like that.”

The bell rings behind him, and a fall breeze blows in, stirring up the shop’s sugary sweet smell.

“Hello, Harrington,” Billy leans against the counter, stretching out to his full height like a cat seeing a mouse, “Fancy running into you here.”

“Hargrove,” Steve nods, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose. He frowns at the tiny bag on the counter next to Billy’s elbow, “What brings you to this area?”

“Just picking something up for my best girl,” Billy digs into the bag, ruining the girl’s beautiful wrapping to pull out a scrap of lace and straps, pulling it taut to show how small it is between his thumbs.

Steve just hums at the back of his throat, running a hand over the collar of his preppy camel coat, “Pretty.”

“Tell him the story though,” The girl behind the counter whispers, “Please.”

Billy smiles, “It’s the anniversary of our first date today. I’d never seen the Wizard of Oz before, so she made me a picnic in her living room and we watched it under a blanket fort.”

“Ruby,” Steve says dryly, eyeing Billy’s gift with undisguised interest, “Like the slippers.”

Billy grins, “That’s right. Just trying to tell her there’s no place like home.”

“Isn’t that just the sweetest thing,” The shop girl coos.

Steve just nods, eyes lingering on the lace, as Billy puts it away and leans over the counter, stretching a little and waiting until he can see Steve’s eyes dip below his belt for just an instant, before coming up to rest on his eyes. Steve raises one brow, just a little.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Sir?” The girl smiles at Steve, sweeping over his styled hair and crisp new jacket. Billy wonders if she clocks the blush creeping over Steve’s cheeks, or the way he can’t seem to stop running his lapel through his fingers, in long fluid strokes.

“No, just thought I saw an old friend,” Steve smiles at her softly, and then turns to Billy, “You have time to get coffee with me?”

Billy plucks the bag off the counter and comes over to stand over Steve, so Steve has to tip his head back a little, hair falling away and revealing flushed cheeks.

“Anything for an old friend,” Billy smiles, leaning in so he can watch the flush deepen on Steve’s pale skin. “Thank you so much for your help, Mindy.”

“Anytime,” Her eyes sparkle, “I hope she likes it.”

Billy smirks at Steve, “I think she does.”

Steve tips his head towards the door, “Come on. I know a place.”

Billy follows Steve out into the crispy fall air, tucking his hands in his jacket, and leaning over to nudge Harrington with his arm, nearly sending the slender man sprawling.

“Like your gift, darling?” Billy whispers.

Steve rolls his eyes and groans, “Kind of ruins your gift though.”

“What was my gift?”

Steve reaches up for the collar of his polo. He’s so much smaller, angled just right. When Steve tugs the collar back, Billy can see inside. A lace trimmed baby blue bra peeks from under Steve’s boring navy polo, a pebbled nipple just barely visible through the thin fabric.

Billy has to wait a whole ten seconds before they turn the corner into the alley to nip Steve’s earlobe while Steve gasps and grabs for Billy’s ass shamelessly. Billy gets to slide his big hands all over the best gift he’s ever received. And the lingerie is pretty nice too.

---

Slightly shorter, I have a crazy work week but once I had the idea of Steve already wearing some, I couldn’t not write it up @hickory-smoked-ass

#text post #harringrove #lemon #harringrove pwp #harringrove ficlet #billy x steve #big billy agenda #christmas vibes a little #steve x billy #asks

[kagekitsuneoflight]

A Spider for a Stone |Snippet (Inuyasha Role Reversal)

As disinterested and aloof as Naraku attempted to be, he was undeniably curious about each little thing Kagome brought back from the future. Digging into some small pocket of her bag, her textbook and homework lying in the ground next to her. He had only just managed to convince her that a better method of studying was to pretend that she herself was a teacher, and how he supposes that he would lower himself to the role of student for her benefit. Because not only did he know how to read, but he also absolutely knew about the Dutch East India Trading company. But please, explain it as if he didn’t know.

Admittedly, the delay in helping her study was irritating him slightly. But her pencils were far more convenient than ink and brushes, so he could forgive her for wanting to save herself the effort.

She pulls out a small thin container mutters a soft “thought I lost this.” Before attempting to set it aside. Naraku plucks it from her hand instead, finding this more interesting than watching her rummage around her bag. “It’s eyeshadow.” She answers before he can ask. She hears him fiddle with the cheap latch of the plastic. She turns, ready to give him a teasing jab about how he just has to know every little detail, but she stops herself when she sees his face.

“I’ve never seen a blue this vibrant.” He murmurs, running a thumb over the powder. He stares at it, and then into the tiny mirror that’s glued to the lid. “A vibrancy reserved for human nobility. Markings made with this color would mark anyone as someone strong.” He seems almost hypnotized by it. There’s a sort of longing in his eyes.

Kagome decides to take a risk. “I can teach you how to put it on.” She tells him, and his red eyes flicks over to gaze at her. He stares, and she clarifies further. “It’s not a color I look good in, so there’s no point in me having it.” His brow pinches, and she thinks he’s about to completely reject it, but his eye catches the blue again, and his expression relaxes.

“If you insist.” He says with a dismissive sigh, and she refrains from rolling her eyes. He always sighed like that when he couldn’t admit it was something he wanted.

It’s a simple process, even with the cheap sponge that the makeup came with. It only takes one warning that flinching is going to potentially mess up the process for him to stop, although he stiffens up instead to compensate.

Still, he’s peering at himself in that tiny mirror again, turning his face every which way to try and catch every angle he’ll be seen from.

He’s smiling. It’s a small, subtle thing. But for once, it doesn’t feel like he’s attempting to wield a smirk as a weapon. He looks happy, no more no less. Kagome looks away and schools her expression into something more neutral.

“You can keep it by the way. I don’t need it.” And Naraku scoffs, and there’s the telltale clack of the plastic case being shut. But she sees him tuck it into his sleeve from the corner of her eye. “It suits you.” She tells him, and his eyes become hooded as if he were some pleased cat.

But as fun as this was, she really needed to find that pencil so she could work out those logarithmic formulas.

#Inuyasha #Inuyasha role reversal #Kagome #Naraku #*​twirls hair with finger* hey guys #pov you don’t know actually know what a Dutch is and you refuse to admit it #this would be earlier on in their journey together :)

[warriorstickers]

Cavernclan, Moon 3, Greenleaf

Burntheart made his way above ground, following Glowfish’s lead over the dark Hayclan ground, as she led the patrol to look for Thyme. As they walked, the other warrior on the patrol with them, Oddthistle, chatted continuously. He supposed it was fine, as they were not here for prey, and herbs didn’t scare off from sound, but it still went against his better judgment to announce their presence so obviously. Seeming to sense his tension, Oddthistle scanned the area. A talker, but a good fighter as well. “The area is empty, so you can relax, my dear.” The older molly replied, as they continued to follow alongside Glowfish. She seemed to know where she was going, and the two warriors were mainly here too keep threats away from her, should they appear. “Here’s the Thyme.” Glowfish spoke up, pausing near a bush, and beginning to pluck some of the plant. She’s still so small. Burntheart thought as he watched her. Would she even have her Medicine cat name yet, if it hadn't been for her mentor’s death? She had certainly risen to the challenge, even as his mate’s judgment hung over her. Cherryfreckle still flinched every time that Glowfish came near. To compensate, he tried to be as helpful as he could to her, as if that would erase his mate’s hatred. He moved over quickly, to help her grab some of the plant, while Oddthistle hung back. “Are these yellow flowers anything to you?” Oddthistle’s voice came in a moment, from a yellow flowering plant, a few moments later. It was a few fox lengths away. Glowfish’s head lifted up, and she looked at the plant. “Oh, that’s Goldenrod! Let’s grab some of that too, and then we can head back.” The the warriors and Medicine cat did so, grabbing their bundles of herbs in the mouth, and heading back down to the dark familiarity of their tunnels. ~ Oaknettle stopped Burntheart as the more senior warrior entered the camp. He sized up the tom, with a grin on his face, as he realized he had grown taller. “You might want to speak to that tiny mate of yours, before Goldstar puts her on apprentice duties. Every time he sees her flinch at the mere sight of Glowfish, it looks like he’s choking on a bird bone, and he just lost his temper at Reeburr for something small.. Time to get Cherryfreckle under control, Burntheart.” He chuckled.

Oaknettle’s grin grew wider as he saw the other tom’s eyes narrow. “I don’t control my mate.” Burntheart hissed, tail lashing. “I’d prefer you didn’t speak about her at all.” He added in a tone that sounded like a challenge. Oaknettle itched to reach that challenge, but he knew Goldstar’s patience was wearing thin at the moment, and a brawl between his two warriors might push him over the edge.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He mocked, as the other warrior bumped his shoulder while passing him. Some toms were so touchy when it came to their mates! He could see that Burntheart was headed to speak to Goldstar, so he felt like his words had struck home, as much as Burntheart didn’t want to show it. Cherryfreckle really did have to watch herself. 

~ Goldstar needed to get out of camp, before he clawed someone’s ears off. As a way of apologizing for his outburst against the Deputy, he invited him to join the patrol above ground, with Yarrowfur. By the time they were above ground, they were all chatting casually, and he could see that all was forgiven on Reeburr’s end. That was one of the things he liked about the red tom. He was very straightforward. He didn’t take criticism he hadn’t earned, but wouldn’t spurn an apology attempt either. “Someone is ahead.” Redburr’s deep voice muttered, as a shaded figure appeared in the undergrowth ahead of them. They made their way through the thick undergrowth towards the clan cats, not perturbed by their defensive stance. “I’ve heard about you! You’re Cavernclan cats, aren’t you?” The long haired molly called ahead of her in a friendly tone, as she approached. “I've been searching forever for you! I’ve been close to just finding one of your tunnels and hoping in, but from rumors I’ve heard, that didn’t end well for lots of cats.” She laughed slightly. “A wise choice.” Goldstar replied, in a guarded tone. Her guts impressed him, if nothing else. She clearly knew who they were, and still approached three trained warriors at night, discussing their cave murderers with humor. That time had not been humorous at all, in reality. “I want to join you! May I? I’m not so good at living on my own, and my mate is gone now.” Her voice dropped a little at the end, and Goldstar felt a similar sting of loss. He looked to his two companions. Yarrowfur merely looked intrigued, and Reedburr cautious. “You know about how we live? You will have to learn to navigate the tunnels, and live half of your life underground.” Goldstar reminded her, all of their watchful eyes on her. “Why not choose the other clans?” “I know all about your history! Some Loner cats told me. From what it sounds like, the other clans don’t sound like good guys. I’d rather not join them. Besides, from what I’ve heard, you can all understand my loss. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” The strange molly replied. Goldstar heard Reeburr hiss softly. Most Cavernclan didn’t like their clan’s near destruction mentioned casually. It was much more than the loss of one loved one to each of them. It had been parents, siblings, mates and friends. All at once. Still, she had a point. “What’s your name?” “Lake.” The molly answered, looking worried she had offended them too much. “Follow us, Lake. We will show you how we patrol our home.” Goldstar responded, and watched her face light up happily. They would see in time if she was worthy of joining them. 

#Clan Gen #Cavernclan

[popjunkie42]

OMG okay so I just saw your WIP title reveal post and one fic particularly stood out to me. But CHAINS??? Is this for feysand week? Bc if so, I'm literally SALIVATING to read it. Can we please have a teeny tiny 🤏 snippet to quench this hunger?

Oh yes! I can’t make any Feysand week promises yet but I would love to finish 1-2 chapters of this to post soon. We’ll see what happens. Here’s a rough draft snippet, just keep in mind I wrote most of this in a 3am rush.

Snippet under the cut.

“My Lord!” said a sentry, rather breathlessly. We all turned to see him stumbling into the room looking panicked.

Behind him was Ianthe.

She slowly entered the room behind us, her contained shuffle a stark contrast to how she usually swayed into any space. Her eyes were blank, distant, as if she were dreaming.

As she moved closer towards us I saw she was in a simple silk white shift, a nightgown almost. The bottoms were caked in mud. Her feet were bare, covered in mud and grass and small flecks of red blood, as if she had strode through rocks and thorns to get here. While her face was blank, a small sheen of sweat was upon her brow.

She was hiding in the temple, Rhys said to me. It took her a while to walk here.

Tamlin’s rage was forged anew.

“Rhysand,” he warned.

Rhys ignored him entirely as Ianthe shuffled past Tamlin and stopped beside me.

She fell to her knees. Her hand moved and she held a small key in her palm.

Rhys plucked it from her hand and moved toward me, reaching for the chains around my wrists.

“You come here to prove you are not controlling my bride, and then you take the mind of my priestess?” Tamlin snarled from the doorway.

Still, Rhys did not respond. He was focused on his work as he unlocked the shackles from around my left wrist, then my right, letting them fall to the ground with a loud clank.

I sighed as the pain left me instantly and I rubbed at the raw red marks that had formed where they cut into my wrists.

And then Rhysand got down on his knees before me and unlocked the chains around my ankles.

I felt the energy in the room shift as the High Lords watched us. The room was entirely silent as they took in Rhysand, kneeling before me.

The shackles fell from me. I was free. The burning pain, the feeling of my power sapped from me, of wrongness was finally gone. I felt my powers return like a wave. They brushed against my bones, under my skin, like a purring cat rubbing up against me.

Rhys remained on his knees in front of me, looking up to meet my eyes.

“There,” he said.

I swallowed hard to contain the tightness in my throat, the tears threatening to form. I wanted to reach for him, to run my fingers through his silky hair.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

#acotar #feysand #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #wips

[wtf-igo]

Cry Me A River

(CW: Dacryphilia, Choking, Unsafe Sex, Angry Sex, Orgasm Denial, Arguing, Degradation Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Dom!Bo)

NSFW 18+, Minors DNI

Word Count - 4.5k

The press tour for Eighth Grade has been taking its toll on both of you. Jumping from one state to another, interviews with Jimmy Kimmel, Good Morning America, and various other big-shot television studios from all over the country – sometimes even outside of the country seeing as in a few weeks you’ll be traveling all the way over to Japan – has left the two of you impossibly tired and irritated, and your relationship is put right in the firing line of that disastrous blend of emotions. Not to mention the awful jetlag that you’ve been experiencing ever since you left Los Angeles.

Popping your fourth aspirin of the day into your mouth, you down it with a gulp of cool water from your bottle and sigh. The dull ache in your head feels less painful than before, but it’s still present — like a dark cloud looming overhead, following you. Usually, you would have accompanied Bo to his interview, watching from afar as he navigates through the interviewer's questions in his rehearsed, talk-show-friendly persona. But not today. You’d awoke early this morning with an intense headache — most likely brought on by the jetlag and lack of sleep. Bo had insisted that you stay up in the hotel room for the day, ran a hot bath for you, and handed you some painkillers before settling you down in your shared bed and getting himself ready for the day ahead. 

Those simple acts of kindness feel so foreign to the both of you, seeing as now, the majority of your time spent around one another is filled with heated arguments, mind-blowing hate sex, the awkward, deafening silence afterward, and finally the comforting blanket of sleep.

Rinse and repeat. 

The throbbing in your head is now beginning to steadily clear up after hours of suffering, and a relieved sigh climbs from your throat. You crack a smile, finally crawling out of the little cavern of blankets and pillows that you’ve created and leaning over to grab your phone from the side table. Bo had suggested that you stay off of any and all devices, which proved to be an incredibly challenging task seeing as you were just alone with your thoughts for most of the day – but you managed to painstakingly follow his advice.

About half an hour has passed, and your weary eyes are hardly focused on the screen as you watch a cheery woman with dark hair and obnoxiously heavy makeup do ASMR whilst eating multiple raw eggs.

Raw eggs.

Your face contorts with disgust as she slurps another into her mouth. Scrolling down the list of recommended videos, you’re met with various topics that could most likely put you to sleep—

Your hearing perks up like a cat’s as those familiar, heavy footfalls storming down the hallway register in your mind. The robotic beep of the keycard, followed by the faint clicking of the door handle as the door swings open, revealing Bo dressed in a plain white tee with an uncharacteristic, thin gold chain loosely hanging from his neck, and dark, smokey grey jeans covering his long legs. 

His expression is unreadable, yet you can practically feel the anger seeping out of him.  

Smiling coyly, you shut off your phone and set it down somewhere beside you. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”

He dismisses you, making a beeline for the white mini-fridge filled with various mini liquor bottles sitting in the corner of the hotel room. 

“I’m guessing not great?” You prompt sadly, sitting up on the bed and resting your hands on your lap.

He huffs a humorless laugh as he leans down, picking out a tiny mystery drink and downing it in it’s entirety. You cringe.

“Ohmygod, take it easy?” 

He shoots a fleeting glance your way, ignoring your warning as he plucks another from the refrigerator. You sigh, tossing the comforter off of yourself and clambering to your feet as he pops off the cap, avoiding eye contact. You rush toward him, “Bo!” You snap, yanking the bottle from his hands and slamming the mini-fridge shut.

He exhales deeply and rolls his eyes, returning back to his usual towering stature as he runs an errant hand through his messy blonde locks. “ Jesus Christ… Give it back,” He sighs, the child-like petulance evident in his tone.

It annoys you. Hell, everything he’s been doing recently has been annoying you.

“No,” You say simply, straightening yourself up. “We’ve got a flight to New York to catch at three in the morning tomorrow, Bo. I don’t want you hungover,”

His eyes narrow. “I’ll take an aspirin then. C’mon, I haven’t had a single drink in, like, a whole month because of this stupid fucking tour,” He lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching over to take back the bottle, but you pull it away.

“Don’t act like this right now, Bo,” You frown in concern, the beginnings of that beast named anger nipping feebly at your flesh. “I know you’ve had a bad day, but we’ve still got things to do. Life still goes on. Drinking will just make everything so much worse.”

He huffs, shaking his head as he turns away and heads toward the nearby desk, snatching up the book that he’s been reading over the past month. “Whatever,” He mumbles.

The anger gnaws deeper.

“Christ! Why are you being so childish right now, Bo?” You snap at him, throwing your arms out to the sides in exasperation. “Hell, you’ve been acting like this for weeks !”

He whips back around, his expression disbelieving. “Childish?”

Nodding, you fold your arms defensively. “Yes, childish ! You’ve been throwing fucking temper tantrums every. single. time something doesn’t go your way, and I’m sick half to death of it, Bo!” 

He raises his eyebrows and huffs. “Jesus Christ.. Here we fucking go, again! You really do have this INSANE ability to start a fucking fight about any little thing, you know that babe !?” He spits, heavy coats of sarcasm lacing the once-familiar pet name. 

You can feel your blood simmering and spitting beneath your skin as you let out a short, stunned laugh. “Of course, just blame it all on me! Because, apparently, it’s my fault that you’ve been such an asshole these past few weeks!”

“Name-calling? Really? We’re name-calling now?” He grimaces, condescension dripping from every syllable. “ Real mature of you, ”

You’ve reached your boiling point. 

“Ohmy– You are fucking unbelievable, FUCK you, Bo!” You shout, your voice wavering a little as you swallow a lump. Although, he seems entirely unphased by your display – only adding fuel to your firey rage. You scoff. “You know what? This is fucking stupid! I’m going on a walk.”

You turn away and head for the hotel room door, hearing Bo rumble a dark laugh, his heavy footsteps trailing closely behind you.

“Don’t fucking follow m–” 

You’re rudely cut off as Bo’s fingers wrap tightly around one of your wrists, spinning you back toward him with enough force to make you wince. You attempt to push him away with your free hand but he snatches that one in a firm grip as well. “Let me go! You ASSHOLE!” You snap, struggling to break free from him. He remains stoic and silent, just watching you with an indescribable look in his stare, his chest heaving.

You swear that you see his eyes dart fleetingly to your lips. 

A trick of the light, you tell yourself.

With a few more feeble attempts at freeing yourself mingled with a variety of curse words and playground insults, you finally give in. “Fine, Bo. You win, okay? Whatever,” You sigh shakily, furrowing your brows as you lock eyes with him. His grip on your wrists tightens and you grimace. “Ow! what the fuck..?”

He sighs impatiently. “Just shut up, would you?”

You part your lips, prepared to protest against his continued insolence – maybe call him a dick this time – but his own lips crashing against yours beats you to it. You let out a yelp, and much to your surprise, it doesn’t take long for you to lean into the kiss. Your mouths work feverishly against each other’s, and you feel your back hit the cool stucco wall of the hotel room, your wrists pinned beside your head. Bo presses his hips into you wantonly, his growing erection prodding at your lower stomach, hot and needy. The obscene feeling makes your mind spin, a chaotic medley of wanting to both punch his lights out and let him fuck you right into tomorrow thrashing in your mind.

He grunts against your lips, kissing messily across your cheek and the curve of your jaw, releasing his grip on your wrists to snake one of his hands up your skirt. A weak gasp climbs up your throat as he runs the pad of his thumb along the surprisingly soaked fabric of your underwear, and you fight off a whimper. 

His hot breath ghosts the shell of your ear. “ Slut, ” He growls.

It only takes that one simple word for you to become like putty in his hands, heat pooling low in your abdomen, slowly trickling out of you and ruining that brand-new pair of black lace underwear.

“I—I hate you so much right now,” You grit, trying to keep composed as you feel his fingers dance along the plain of your stomach.

He laughs darkly, the muffled thump of his knees hitting the floor ruminating throughout the hotel room. “The feeling’s mutual, honey,” He sneers, his deep voice ruminating low in your chest. 

Electric sparks of pleasure flit around your body as he plants a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the soaked fabric of your panties. He continues, his voice hushed. “And what better to do than to put some of that hatred to good use, huh?”

His fingers wrap around the waistband of your underwear and you positively squirm with anticipation. “Would you like that? You wanna come all over daddy’s face?” He coos, and you nod hurriedly.

“Just, fucking hurry up–” You whimper as you avert your gaze, biting down harshly on your lip out of sheer desperation.

His face contorts into a frown as he yanks down your panties so hard you can hear the stitches pop. “Someone’s bossy,”

Before you can even fully digest his words, he hikes your leg up and over his shoulder, and with one last quiet huff, he buries his face in your cunt. You cry out, involuntarily closing your legs around his head. Calmly, he wrenches your thighs back apart as his devilish tongue probes at your entrance, teasing you. Lapping you up as though you’re his only life source, his tongue licks two more long stripes up your folds, before deftly circling your clit. You gasp, arching your back as pleasure spreads from your core, setting your nerves alight. Your hands fly down to bury themselves in his hair, using him as leverage to ride his face.

“ Ssshhhiiittt –” You groan, legs twitching as his mouth works its magic on your cunt. 

He hums against you, shifting on his knees a little to get comfortable and wrapping a hand around your thigh for more support. Tightening your grip on his already disheveled hair, he moans approvingly against you, his skilled tongue tipping you closer and closer to completion.

You cry out as Bo slips two fingers into you with ease, your mouth going dry as those fiery blue eyes glare up at you from between your legs. He thrusts his fingers inside of you with devastating precision, obviously reveling in the lewd noises spilling from your mouth. 

The pressure inside of you threatens to burst, and you whimper uselessly.

Just..

Right...

There–

But then, both his mouth and his fingers withdraw from you, and you barely manage to restrain yourself from screaming out in frustration, bucking your hips in protest.

“ No, no, no.. Please, Robert—” You pant, your eyes following him as he rises from his knees so that he’s towering above you once again, his lips shiny with your arousal.

“What?” He dismisses your plea, feigning pity as he glowers at you. “You think you can get off that easily, slut? Daddy still has to blow off some fucking steam from that little fight earlier – so open wide, baby.”

He raises two fingers to your lips, and you uncharacteristically obey without further protest, slackening your jaw as he pushes them inside your mouth. You’re a little embarrassed by your own willingness, but you don’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his fingers graze the back of your throat, making you gag. His expression darkens impossibly as tears sting the corners of your eyes. However, you quickly blink them away before they escape. He eyes you up heatedly, before hastily wrenching his fingers from your mouth without another word. 

Before you have the chance to question him about his reaction, those same fingers wet themselves in your arousal, prodding teasingly at your entrance. You gasp quietly, looking him dead in the eyes. “Please,”

He doesn’t move. “Please what?”

“Jus– just fucking do something, you asshole!” You snap, brows tightly knit as you glare at him.

Bo frowns at your impudence, tired eyes glazed over with a deadly mixture of anger and lust. “You’re gonna fucking regret that,” His lips meet yours in an aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue. Any resemblance of cautiousness or tenderness has been thrown out of the window. Your hands reach up, threading your fingers through his already messy hair and tugging. He hisses against your lips, before finally slipping his fingers into your cunt, curling them inside of you with torturous precision. 

You stifle a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Are you–gonna, apologize for being such a– dick?” You pant between fervent kisses.

“No,” He snarls, hot embers of pleasure searing your skin as he picks up his pace, your peak steadily edging nearer. “Are you gonna say sorry for being such a bitch?”

Anger foams and bubbles within you. “Hell no.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he stops his movements completely and you groan, back arching from the wall as you tug on his hair harder. Your chests heave, and you lock eyes.

“Say sorry,” He spits.

You refuse, shaking your head. “You first,”

“Say sorry, or I swear to god I’m leaving this fucking hotel room.” He warns.

You both know that he wouldn’t. He wants to get off just as much as you do. “Go ahead then, I won’t stop you. Then I’ll finally get a break from all your bul–”

He silences you with another furious kiss, his fingers starting up their feverish movements inside of you once again. Your mouth forms a victorious grin as it works against his, your arms loosely draped around his neck. It doesn’t take long for that all too familiar feeling to well up inside of you, and as the pad of his thumb makes contact with your aching clit you let out a guttural moan, parting from the kiss. You're teetering on the edge, breathing rapidly as he works his frustratingly clever fingers deftly in and out of you, hitting just the right spot inside of you. “Fuck, Bo! Right there, right there– so close, please–” You whine, fingernails digging into the nape of his neck–

You cry out in frustration, so loud that the people in the rooms next to you can most definitely hear as he withdraws his digits wordlessly and wipes them clean on his pants. You attempt to keep the tears welling up at bay, swallowing the unwelcome emotion down. Yet even through your lusty, rage-filled haze, you can’t help the dizzying jolt of arousal that pangs low in your stomach as your eyes drift from his fingers to the prominent bulge straining against his jeans, screaming for attention.

He declines his head slowly, pressing a wet kiss to the sensitive skin just below your earlobe, and you shiver. “Told you that you’d regret that,” He snarls, kissing his way along your cheek as he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor behind him.

“And to think that I thought you were a gentleman,” You spit.

He huffs a dark laugh as he captures your lips with his again, immediately desperate and filthy. Bo moans into your mouth as you stumble toward the solitary wooden desk beside the massive hotel window. He places a hand on your waist for support as he roughly bends you over with the heel of his palm pressed between your shoulder blades. You let out a weak gasp as the cool surface stings your cheek, your hands splaying out beside your head. 

His lips graze the tip of your ear, hands moving down to grab at your hips, pulling you against him. “There’s nothing gentlemanly about what I’m going to do to you, sweetheart.”

Heat fizzles between your thighs as you greedily swallow down his words, sharp and tangy as they slip down your throat. You whimper, wiggling your hips against his hardness – making him hiss against your skin.

“ Fuck– Look at you, just fucking begging for it,” He huffs, the sound of a buckle clinking on the floorboards registering in your brain, like music to your ears. “ Needy little whore, ”

You squirm, moaning unabashedly against the surface of the desk. All signs of dignity have left your body at this point, and Bo lets out a quiet sigh as you hear the sound of fabric swishing against skin. Peering over your shoulder, you watch as he hurriedly shimmies out of his confines – cock standing to attention, pressed flush against his stomach.

He grabs your hips in a vice-like grip, surely leaving bruises as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance teasingly. After all of that build-up, you’re so beyond desperate you could scream. “Please, Bo – I need..”

“No, no, no, shh..” He shushes, patronizing as ever. “Daddy knows what you need.”

He lines himself up with one large hand, roughly palming your ass with the other. Your back arches obscenely as you whine, feeling the lump of tears from earlier return.

“Just the tip for now,” He purrs into your neck as he bites down on the tendons there, making you wince. There’s no struggle as he pushes the head of his cock inside of you with a quiet sigh, your body oh so ready for him, for all of him. You whine, tears springing to your eyes as you try to push your hips back – but his tight grip holds you in place as he remains torturously still inside of you.

“Move another inch and I swear to god you won’t be coming tonight,” He warns, and you clench involuntarily around him – a subtle feeling of dread mingled with arousal flurrying in your stomach. Much to your embarrassment, your eyes fill with tears, and your skin prickles with heat as they trickle down your cheeks.

“P-please– Bo, I can’t take it anymore, just–” You sniffle, embarrassment licking up the back of your neck as you attempt to wipe away the tears – trying to restore some amount of your dignity, surely looking obscene as you flail. You’ve never, in all of your many years spent together, genuinely cried during sex before.

But Bo seems to be enjoying the sight quite a lot, by the looks of it.

“Fucking hell,” You feel him twitch inside of you as he watches you squirm underneath him. It’s almost as if a lightbulb has gone off somewhere in the primal part of his brain. He exhales shakily as his cheeks color, and you feel his hips flinch slightly as he attempts to hold himself back. “Keep crying like that, please,”

Oh.

Well then.

You’re sure to pocket that away for later.

A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you push it away, allowing more tears to spill down your face to tease him a little. He responds with a wobbly sigh, fingers digging into your skin.

Watching as his composure slips right in front of your eyes feels like the ultimate victory. “Fucking, please! Daddy —”

He huffs, eyes darkening. “Fuck—can’t say no to this pussy,” He groans, before finally , he snaps his hips, bottoming out inside of you with a breathy grunt. You wince at the delicious stretch, even after all of these years, you still haven’t fully gotten used to his size. “Fucking.. magic ,” 

“Feels so good.” He exhales through his nose as he drags himself out, before quickly plunging back inside – causing more tears to sting your cheeks at the sharp, pleasurable pain.

It doesn’t take long for him to set a pace, hungry and desperate as his hips thrust in and out of you at a devastating speed. You can feel his hot, panting breaths lick up the back of your neck as he furrows his brows in concentration.

“Arms up,” He husks, and you do as he says without a moment's hesitation, his large hands roughly tugging the fabric over your head. 

Your eyes are tightly screwed shut as you melt into the rhythm. You know that your core will hurt in the morning, but right now, you don’t give a rat’s ass — chasing that blissful high.

His hands sneak around you, fingertips brushing against your pebbled nipples and giving your breasts one gentle squeeze before one travels upwards to wrap tightly around your throat. A strangled whimper escapes you as his fingers press down on the blood supply on either side, making your brain go hazy.  

You suck in a shallow breath through your teeth as his freezing cold chain necklace teases the skin between your shoulder blades. You clench involuntarily. You have to admit, the unconventional accessory does look rather tasteful on him.

White spots start to litter your vision and you gasp weakly, that familiar feeling pulling and tugging at your insides, daring to snap at any moment. But you have one last request. “Wanna see you—please,” You just barely manage to say, the words coming out strained and strangled

Bo lets his hold on your neck go, and you gulp down oxygen hungrily like a drowning man gasping for air. He wastes no time in pulling out of you, swiftly turning you around and dragging you over to the disheveled bed. Bo pushes you onto the plush mattress and you grin breathlessly as he maunders closer. He crawls onto the foot of the bed, sitting up on his knees as he shuffles you over and pulls your hips toward him.

“There you go..” He husks, reaching down to grab your ankles before hoisting your legs onto his shoulders, your hips lifting off of the bed. You suppress a moan as he pushes back inside of you to the hilt, a soft gasp climbing up his throat, large hands groping your thighs for better purchase. He’s impossibly deep inside of you thanks to this new position, and as he starts to move, a twinge of pain nips at your insides and you wince.

“ Yes—fuck, ” He moans, fingers bruising your thighs as his thrusts become frenzied — both of you eagerly chasing your release.

You’re unable to focus on anything but him in this moment, hips snapping into you with reckless abandon, the smell of sweat and sex in the air. You let out a sob as his thumb comes to your over-sensitive clit, rubbing in tight circular motions. 

“Go on,” He pants, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me, you little pervert. You can fucking do it, I know you can,”

His filthy mouth sends another wave of arousal south of the border, and you’re done — nerves set alight in a dramatic firework show of all-encompassing bliss as your orgasm finally overtakes you. Bo rides you through it, your name both a prayer and a curse on his lips as he follows you over the edge with a strained whimper, hips stuttering as he empties himself into you.

With a sigh, he pulls himself out, crawling up beside you and collapsing into the warm comforter with an exhausted huff. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his eyes flutter closed as the silence that you have grown so accustomed to recently envelops the two of you in its vice grip.

Rinse and repeat.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with exhaustion as you stare up at the grooves and bumps in the stucco ceiling. You’re so tired, too tired to deal with the aftermath of this hellish cycle you’ve trapped yourselves in—

“I’m sorry,” Everything around you seems to still as Bo’s sleepy voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife to butter.

“What?” You ask, incredulously raising your eyebrows as you peer sideways at him.

He furrows his brows, propping himself up on his forearms. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole lately, you don’t deserve all that.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, but you will it away. “You don’t have to apologize, Bo, it’s fine.”

He sits up. “No, it’s not – and I do have to apologize because you were right, I’ve been acting childish and I’ve been pushing you away, and it’s not okay. I just– I’ve been stressed the fuck out and I’ve been taking it all out on you, so I’m sorry.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing your palm so tenderly that it sets loose a flight of butterflies in your belly. He smiles softly at you as his voice lowers to a hushed whisper. “You’re too good to me.”

It’s like a weight has just been lifted from your chest and you crack a smile, the foreseeable future suddenly seeming far less gloomy and anger-fueled. You avert your eyes shyly as your cheeks color. “Thank you, Bo, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that. And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” You say, watching as his eyes soften.

He chuckles lightly as he shuffles toward you, leaning down on all fours and kissing you sweetly. You giggle against his lips as he crawls back on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist with your arms draping over the back of his neck. “Round two?” You offer enticingly.

“Ohh, you little freak.” He chuckles lightly, kissing down the length of your neck as the two of you sink into the mattress, limbs tangled and sweaty as you melt into each other; as one, together.

#i am the world's slowest writer so please excuse the lateness #bo burnham #boburnham #bo burnham fanfic #bo burnham smut #bo burnham x reader #bo burnham inside #the inside outtakes #bo #smut #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #fan fic #rpf #real person fiction #fan fiction #writing #inside outtakes #ao3 smut #one shot #bo burnham/reader #bo burnham x reader smut #burnham

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Imagine Blood Moon just picks up this ratty, scrappy little feral stray kitten from an alley because it tried to fight them when they went in there to kill someone. This someone happens to be the person who dumped this malnourished, abused, terrified little two week old kitten in the alley.

Post-slaughtering the person who dumped this baby in an alley, they just *plucks up by the scruff* ‘you are the chosen pet, you are tiny and adorable but also angry and like to fight everything, therefore you deserve only the best of parents’. And decide to take her home because she deserves someone to love her and they both absolutely adore her already.

So they just have this spicy kitten who will literally do anything for them because this chaotic robot stole cat food for their spicy baby. This is their new attack cat/hellspawn sidekick and they’ve named her Pink Moon (Pinky for short). And they love her even more because she perches on their shoulder and just goes with them everywhere. Pinky is completely spoiled, as she should be.

She bats at their hat constantly, to the point she’ll try to roll over to fight it and end up falling off their shoulder, though they’ll catch her if she falls off them. They charge by cuddling up around their kitten, who is on a pillow on the charge pad, and go to sleep purring to her. They always wake up to Pink having nuzzled up to their faceplate and is purring back at them (once she learns how to purr).

They teach her to wreak havoc in the lab on Eclipse and Eclipse can do absolutely nothing about it because Kill Code is proud of his furry granddaughter. KC has mocked Eclipse being the elder sibling yet his younger twins have given him a grandchild, though furry, faster than Eclipse has given him grandchildren.

The Blood Moons regularly steal boatloads of cat food and cat toys, the lab is just completely filled with cat toys. They put one of Pink’s cat towers they stole in the lab so she can harass Eclipse with her chaotic presence.

While she’s a baby, they keep her in their stomach hatch sometimes while out stealing things so she can confirm she likes the stolen toys and food they procure for her. Their little gremlin goes absolutely nuts when she sees a laser pointer. This is the main source of her destroying the lab every other weekend because the twins have stolen a laser pointer and they point it in the lab to have her play in there.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sun and moon show #sams #fnaf bloodmoon #fnaf pink moon #fnaf eclipse #kill code moon #five nights at freddy’s imagine #sun and moon show imagine #sams imagine #snoweytrashposts #snoweytalks #snoweyrambles #snoweyrants #tw death mention #tw starvation mention #tw abuse mention #tw stealing mention #tw animal abuse mention #tw animal abandonment mention #tw abandonment mention

[miss-polly]

ooc. against my will i have like 4 aus in mind now sdifhsdfhsdf and verses i am too lazy to write up

M.oulin Rou.ge au -- polly as a baker who regularly brings her goods to the ladies at the mill from their patrons and admirers, and she's so easily flustered and they like a bit of harmless flirting but mostly it's just nice to have a sweet friend come by until she delivers a three tiered cake to THEE courtesan, the diamond of the moulin, and the most beautiful person in europe and falls hard and fast.

beauty and the beast au -- she made a mistake, and was turned into a monster and is the last living soul in a castle, cursed to be this creature until someone can truly love her for who she is or some such.

young monarch au - (period drama or fantasy au) she's been plucked out of obscurity, the lost and last possible heir to a small kingdom trying desperately to stay independent. There's strife on all ends, and she barely knows which way is up. There are so many rules, so many people thinking she's nothing and trying to manipulate her. she's desperate to do a good job, but even more desperate for a friend.

g.ood o.mens -- polly as a demon -- rambling from discord under the cut

polly is a demon because she was thrown out of heaven for vocalizing, even just a tiny bit, that she doesnt htink some of gods actions were just. she spends her days now bitter but determined to keep away from anyone's attentions, staying in her bakery. she tempts people into sin by.....making them buy shit they dont need aka desserts.

personality wise honestly she's still an angel throgh and through but she's absolutely against the system itself. there's more than good and bad in people, she's seen it and the world is beautiful and so what if she gives cupcakes out for free? she made them. it's her choice

she's out her elike, surely not all of the world deserved to drown in the flood? surely more than noah and a few animals were worth saving

and "can you blame adam and eve for going against your orders when you created them with free will? is it not in their nature for curiosity to compel?"

and sometimes the worst of all... "why was i only thrown out when i voiced these thoughts?" she'd had them for aeons by that point, and she'd never had a poker face. was silent obedience always preferred over conscious thought??

anyway she harbors a vicious bitterness against god and angels that she tries not to think about, and is determined to do her own thing tm. she's an extremely minor demon, nobody cares about her, she does tiny temptations here and there and thats it. half the time she thinks they forgot she exists and thats just fine

also also. she adopts variouis street cats. she simply cannot help it. by now any cat around the world knows she's the food giver tm. her biggest sin is allowing a cat religion tm where they all know of this immortal creature who delivers the miracle of goodies tm

"no god but me" WRONG no god but FISH LADY

#ooc #verse