#so im trying to find another part time to fill that time gap. and all these restaurants r like :) haha we need employees

[romantichomicide95]

I THINK IM READY ⨾

pairing: virgin!megumi x virgin!reader

notes: mutual virginity loss, characters are over 18.

->minors dni

“I think I’m ready.” The words echoed in Megumi’s mind all through dinner. He was trying with everything in him to focus on what you were saying but it was almost impossible. Those words spoken just the other day were now becoming a reality, and he couldn’t get them out of his head. The anticipation that was bubbling within him made it incredibly difficult to focus on anything besides your pretty plump lips and the way your breasts seems to pop out of the top you were wearing.

Megumi didn’t think himself a pervert, or the type of guy that got distracted by such things. Sure, he’d thought about having sex with you…numerous times in fact. It’s not that he didn’t want you. Of course he did…He just, wasn’t the type to rush such things. He lacked experience, as did you and he’d never brought it up because he wanted you to feel comfortable.

But right now….it seemed as though his body had taken control of itself. Every little movement you made sent shivers right down to the spot between his legs; every glance he caught of those luscious curves filled him with an undeniable heat. As much as he tried to reign it back in, he couldn't deny the way you made him feel.

And it didn’t end. Not when he paid for the check, and not on the drive to the hotel he had booked for your special night. Despite the nervous energy that seemed to linger in the spaces between you, the words still echoed in his head.

“Are you okay Megs? You’ve been quiet?” you ask and he’s brought back to reality by those words. He gives you a mumbled “Yeah, I’m fine.” in response as you make your way into the hotel room.

You sit on the bed and Megumi can’t take his eyes off of you. You’d dressed up tonight, which was another distraction he didn’t think he needed in his head. You always looked pretty, there was no doubt in his mind about that. But the tight little number you’d decided upon for tonight left just enough to the imagination that it drove him crazy.

He watches you, his eyes trailing down your body before snapping back up to meet your gaze. He swallows hard, feeling a mixture of desire and nervousness washing over him. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Megumi sits next to you, and you both take a deep breathe simultaneously trying to calm your racing hearts.

“Are you sure you’re ready, I don’t want to rush you.” Megumi asks as he moves closer, closing the gap between you. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers softly brushing across your skin.

You nod, leaning into his touch and your eyes flicker to his and you give him a slight smile. “Mhm. Promise.”

Without another word, Megumi leans in and presses his lips against yours. It’s a gentle kiss at first, as you explore each other's mouths tentatively. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him, while yours wrap around his neck, fingers intertwining with his raven locks.

As the kiss continues, Megumi's tongue slides past your lips. This wasn’t new, this was the easy part. Kissing, you’d done it so many times before. Your tongues dancing together in familiarity as you lost yourselves in the moment. Your hands fall from his hair to the buttons of his dress shirt, slowly unbuttoning each button until you hastily rip the fabric off his toned frame.

Megumi's heartbeat picks up as he feels your fingers brush against his skin. As you pull away, he opens his eyes, looking down at your hands on his chest. He swallows hard, his voice low. “C-Can I take yours off?”

You nod and attempt to give him a smile through your nerves. With shaky hands Megumi finds the hem of your top pulling it off over your head and his eyes widen slightly at the sight of your perfect tits clad in a lacy bra. He swallows hard, his heart racing so fast he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He lays you down on the bed and hovers over you, one muscular arm on either side of you. You look up in to his pretty blue eyes, and you feel safe. Especially with the way he’s looking at you, like you’re so delicate.

“Is this okay?” He asks as you look up at him through pretty lashes. You feel yourself grow hot in embarrassment but you try to push past it as you smile and nod. “Mhm.”

Megumi leans down, his lips brushing softly against your neck as he kisses down to your collarbone. Groaning softly as he starts to fondle your breasts through your bra. His fingers move behind you to unclasp it and leans up to admire you as the fabric falls off your perfect breasts. His eyes darken slightly at the sight, and now he really thinks he might be a pervert with the way his cock strains against his pants at the sight. He reaches down to unfasten his belt with trembling hands, pulling his pants and boxers down in one swift movement. His cock springs forward against his stomach and your eyes widen slightly at the size.

He hovers over you for a second before kissing down your neck again, and then down to your breasts. He takes a hardened nipple in between his lips and softly flicks his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You arch your back slightly at the sensation and as he continues suckling at your nipple. He reaches down between your legs and slides his fingers into your panties swiping them along your wet folds. He growls against your flesh as he slides two fingers inside your wet heat, in an attempt to prepare you for him. You wriggle beneath him, your breathing picking up as little moans start to leave you.

He kisses his way back up to your lips as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you, his thumb pressing softly against your clit. You reach down between your bodies to start stroking his cock and Megumi can’t help but groan against your lips as he bucks his hips against your hand and you feel the pre-cum drip on your fingers.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he thrusts his fingers harder inside you. “Does this feel good?” He asks in between kisses and you answer him with a soft moan, bucking your hips up.

He finally pulls away from the kiss, panting heavily. “Are you ready?” He asks, and when you nod and smile he takes the chance to pull your panties completely off.

His breath hitches when he sees your bare pussy for the first time, and it takes everything in him not to let himself go at the sight. He pushes your legs apart slightly and positions himself between them, his hardened cock rubbing against your wet folds.

You let out a ragged breath as he slides his cock inside your tight heat, and your fingernails dig into his arms as you feel him stretch you out.

Megumi groans as he feels you tighten around him. He looks down at you. “Fuck…”He grunts his breath hitching as a low guttural groan escapes his lips. He closes his eyes as he feels your pussy grip his cock, the sensation like nothing he’s ever felt. He lets out a low moan, as his breathing starts to pick up. He hasn’t even started to move but the way you feel wrapped around his cock has his head spinning.

“You okay?” He opens his eyes, leaning down to nudge his nose against your cheek when he sees the way you bite your lip, fingers still digging into him. “Does it hurt?” He looks down at you, brushing a sweaty piece of hair from your face.

“A little. It’s okay though…promise.” You say, leaning up to give him a soft reassuring kiss. “I love you.”

He gives you a half smile “I love you to…I’m gunna move now.” He says before he leans down to kiss you softly. “Tell me if it hurts.” He says as his hands move to your hips and he starts to thrust slowly, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy. He groans softly with each thrust, his eyes closing as he focuses on the sensation of you sucking him in. He leans down and you feel his warm breath against your neck. The bed creaks softly underneath you as he takes you slowly.

Megumi moves one hand to yours, his fingers ghosting across your palm before intertwining with yours, pushing your hands into the bed as he picks up his pace.

His movements become faster, his breath coming in short gasps. Your walls begin to clamp down on his cock, milking him with each thrust. He bites his lip, trying to keep quiet as pleasure courses through his veins. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your jawline. "Doing okay pretty girl?”

You nod, your eyes squeezing shut as his cock starts to hit that spot inside you. "Mmm-hmm..." You moan softly, arching your back to meet his thrusts. He groans in response, squeezing your hand reassuringly as his hips slam into you harder. His free hand comes up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. You gasp at the sensation, your hand gripping his tightly. "Fuck, Megumi..." You pant, as the pain starts to mix with pleasure. “Don’t stop.”

He leans down again, leaving a sloppy kiss at the side of your mouth before another grunt leaves his pretty lips. He’s balls deep inside you now, and his hips roll against yours reaching down to draw circles on your sensitive clit. Your one hand is still laced with his and your free hand grips his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as his cock stretches you out.

He admires the way you’re squirming beneath him as your walls clamp down on his cock. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You feel so good." His breathing is ragged, his eyes closed tightly as he focuses on the sensation of being inside you. He burys his face in your shoulder and he doesn’t think he can hold on anymore. “I’m gunna cum…fuck, let me cum inside you.”

“Mmm…” You nod. Your eyes squeezing shut as your wrap your arm around him. His hand squeezes yours and you hear him grunt in your ear, his lips brushing across the skin of your neck as he shoots his cum inside you.

Megumi collapses on top of you. You both try to catch your breath as you lace your fingers in his hair. He presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss before nudging his nose against you. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah Megumi, it was perfect.”

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi smut #megumi x reader #megumi x reader smut #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #jjk fushiguro

[teyamsatan]

lllicit Affairs | Chapter VI: Death by a Thousand Cuts

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have a dark secret that would change everything between you - and neither of you are willing to share.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, Lo'ak x reader, jealous!Neteyam, both main characters thirsting for each other, mentions of lab work, disease, blood, cursing.

Word Count: 7,2k words

A/N: Chapter 6 is the chapter that sets EVERYTHING in motion for what's to come. There is a LOT to come, a lot of drama and angst, maybe some smut (? 😉) and this chapter is meant as a stepping stone to the beginning of the end. Also, realised I forgot to ever mention, that if the dialogue is ever italicised, that usually means the conversation is in Na'vi, I don't know how I have never made it clearer, but here we are.

Thank you so much for everyone who's been reading and asking to be tagged, I never expected this to gain any traction and I am so grateful for people enjoying it x

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

One second. 

“Just one second, Neteyammm!”, you whined, as he was trying to remove the blanket from your currently very comfortable and very warm body. 

“It’s late, come on! Early bird catches the worm, isn’t that what you people say?”

“Nobody says that, I don’t know who told you this lie.” 

“It was you!!” he says, and he’s laughing at your whinging while trying to remove the blanket. He’s not trying that hard, considering he would make an easy job out of the task if he used a tenth of his actual force, but he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing you any unnecessary distress. You had enough of that in your life, and he wanted to be a source of comfort for you, a shelter in the storm. 

You scooted on one side of the bed close to the edge, and left a big gap which you brought to his attention by patting it aggressively. 

“Press the button on the audio player and lay with me, please? I don’t feel like going out today.”

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

A song he liked came on, one that he’s heard you play before and there was no doubt in his mind that he liked it better when you sang it. He circled the bed and lay in it, next to you, in the dark. 

“Thank you, light of my life.” You attached yourself to him, arms sprawled across his bare chest and legs carelessly placed on top of abdomen and hips, and sighed contently. He could feel your warm breaths on his neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head to you and placed a small kiss on top of your head and listened to the soft tune filling up the room. 

“Oh, goddamn, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you”

“You’re annoying.”

“I know I am, but you love me anyway.”

I do, Neteyam thought. I really do…

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction. You stared at the vial of blood that shattered all across the floor, all across you and your mind was blank. Almost robotically, you made your way to one of the benches and got some paper rolls and the IMS laying next to it. You carefully cleaned all of it, and spit whatever made its way to your mouth to the floor to be removed. When you were sure everything was gone, you went to the sink and removed your goggles and gloves, and scrubbed yourself clean. You felt yourself moving, picking up a bucket of water with some floor cleaner, felt yourself adding disinfectant to it and moping thoroughly, but it was like an out-of-body experience. Like you were merely a puppet executing orders from above. Cleaning everything took about an hour, after which you made your way back to your room slowly, deliberately. 

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night looking over everything you and the rest of the scientists have ever found out about this virus. You didn’t know its way of transmission. Maybe you had nothing to worry about, maybe it’s not by blood. You knew it’s not by air, you’ve seen plenty of people infected whose family was fine. So even if you do get infected, the people at the lab should be fine. Your friends would be fine. He would be fine. 

Next, incubation period. That’s a tough one, in-vitro studies show it takes the virus anywhere from 2 to 12 months to show symptoms. You don’t know how that changes in humans. You don’t know any of this shit for humans. You could be perfectly fine, you could die within the month. The thought made your blood run cold. 

You sat in your chair for the remainder of the night. Unmoving, unthinking. 

That’s how Norm found you.

“Hey, Ace. What are you doing up?”

You scrambled for a lie.

“Just woke up, actually. Listen, if you are going to check on the boy, can you please bring my supplies to the tent and tell the Sullys I won’t be in today? I was too exhausted to run any experiments yesterday so I will do it today.” 

“Oh… is everything alright? You haven’t missed a day in the village since you got your Avatar.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just worried about the boy and want to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later, if possible.”

“Alright, I can bring you back some of his blood to run as well?”

“NO!” 

Norm’s eyes widened in shock at your response and you knew you fucked up, you knew you slipped up. Calm yourself… 

“It’s just not necessary at the moment since I have other blood and I don’t want to overwhelm him, if it’s not imperative. I will retrieve some blood when I check on him tomorrow.”

Norm looked at you with a concerned look, but eventually relented.

“Ok, whatever you think, Ace.” 

“Thanks, Norm.” 

“Let me know what you find tonight. I’ll tell Jake, but they might not be happy with you.”

“You can explain it’s an emergency, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

 

You struggled to get up and get your legs to not want to collapse beneath you. Eventually, you made your way to the sink and washed, you scrubbed your face as hard as you could without removing a layer of skin, and your teeth until you felt the familiar taste of metal coat your teeth. You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world. You hoped it could undo the damage that would plague you for the rest of your most likely very short life. 

Luckily, most scientists seemed to be out. Claire was teaching Na’vi kids English at Grace’s old school that Jake deemed fit to be reopened, Max left with Norm to check on the situation of the village, and most of the Avatars would be out on missions or training with Jake. You made your way to the quiet halls to one of the labs, and prepared for your long day ahead. This will be hard to do by yourself, but not impossible. 

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough. Next comes the blood. Finding a vein has always been hard for people to do on you, and it’s not gotten any easier in time, so after poking yourself a few times in the wrong place, you manage to get enough blood to run experiments on. 

Hours of sample preparation, incubation, pipetting and running went by at an excruciatingly slow pace, like the universe was revelling in making every second of torture last forever. You thanked your lucky stars of the progress made in lab equipment and that you didn’t have to spent days on one PCR, like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago. Regardless, it took most of the day for you to do everything you needed, check for all the proteins and markers you knew were deregulated with this virus, and by the early hours of night, you were done. 

Aș people were starting to return to the hub as another day was nearing its end, you retreated back to your bedroom to work on the data analysis. You did not want to see anyone, did not want to speak to anyone until you knew at least some things. The less you talked, the less lies that had to come out of your mouth, and that seemed ideal to you. 

Inputting the data and having to wait on some software to give you your literal death sentence felt so tragic is was almost comical, and you had to stop and ask yourself if you were some serial killer in a past life to warrant all the pain and misery life seemed adamant to throw at you. For the first time in so long you couldn’t even remember, things were going… well. You were strong, and doing well, and lived outside of the walls of this lab. You had a chance at something more, you had a chance at maybe one day healing and working through your issues and maybe even coming out the other side a better, healthier version of yourself. You had a chance at love.

And there it was… positive. One second.

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF  STAGE I: DENIAL

Your blood became poison in the span of half a day, but at least you now knew it wasn’t transmitted through air. That means no one else would have to suffer because of you. The thought made you weirdly calm, and you realised you didn’t care about your own health all along. No, you weren’t sad anymore, just relieved. A wide smile appeared on your face at the results, and you jumped out of the chair with enthusiasm at the great news. Everybody would be ok. Norm, Max, they would all be ok. You will handle all the virus experiments and blood samples from now on. They wouldn’t have reason to doubt you or question you, not when it made most sense anyway, since you were always in the village and knew the protocols and techniques the best, anyway. You would go on the same way as you had, and no one had to know or suffer because of your mistakes. 

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

You were up before dawn again, and ready to get started on your day at the village. You were looking forward to gun training with Jake, and finally putting those years of practice to good use. You found Norm deep in thought in the link room, and he didn’t register you walking in until you patted his shoulder and he jumped out of his skin.

 

“Jesus, Ace. You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I noticed. Why so jumpy, Norm?” 

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

“…turning on the linkpod?” 

“No one likes a smartass, you know?” 

“So how was the village yesterday? How is the boy?” 

“He’s alright, still not great, but his vitals are stable for now.” You noticed he did not answer your question about the village, and found slight panic rising in your chest.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen in the village?” 

“No, Ace, everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry about everything, you know. How did the experiments go yesterday?” 

“The virus is not airborne, it seems to be transmitted by blood, so we need to be very careful handling samples.” 

“We always are. But good work, good to have some concrete evidence finally. I’ll look over your analysis soon.”

“You know, I’m not quite done with it, so maybe wait and we can look over it together?”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

You didn’t buy Norm’s pathetic attempts at deflecting the subject of the village, but you did not want to fight him so early in the day, so you guess you had to find out what happened for yourself. You woke up in your Avatar body soon enough, and could already tell the village was already awake and buzzing with the perspective of a new day. The guitar sitting on the ground next to your sleeping mat caught your eye, and you smiled softly at the memory which now seems a life away. Your fingers lingered on the chords and you strummed it gently a few times, enjoying the sounds that seemed to settle in your heart. Adjusting your braids in the small mirror you brought with you a few weeks ago, you made your way out of your tent and straight into Neteyam’s chest with a loud thud. 

“What the fuck?” You say, indignantly and then look up to find Neteyam watching you with an unreadable expression adorning his beautiful face. 

“Hi.” He says, and tries to muster a small smile. 

“Hi…? Is there any particular reason you have decided to attack me first thing in the morning?” 

“I was just coming to get you, I heard the guitar playing. I didn’t think you would be running straight into me. Are you ready? We can spend the morning tracking a herd of Talioang that the hunter party spotted a few clicks south of the village. It will be good practice for you.” 

“…alright? Can I get some food first? I’m famished.”

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

“I have food that Ma packed for us, we can eat in the forest? I’d really rather get a move on as soon as possible, this will most likely take most of today, anyway.”

“Is there a particular reason you seem so eager for me to leave? You and Norm have both been acting weird today, and you are both terrible liars.”

Neteyam gave you a hard look. “Let’s go, Y/N. Unlike what you like to think, you don’t need to know everything, and not everything concerns you. Let’s go, now.” Nothing’s changed, you realised bitterly. Last night was just a fluke and you hated yourself in that moment for letting your guard down. 

“You can be a real dick sometimes, Neteyam.” You said and took off without looking at him. 

You ran for about 5 clicks without checking behind you, knowing full well he was following you, your hearing being one of the many senses that heightened in this body. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a huge footprint, one you could identify as the Sturmbeest, or a Talioang, like it was known to the Na’vi. Soon enough, you saw the ground littered with them, and began carefully tracking the beasts.

“Alright. How far would you say they are and which direction?” Neteyam asked, approaching you slowly. He was back to teaching mode, and you tried your best to learn, instead of recoiling and telling him to go to hell, which is what you really wanted to do. 

You touched the ground and felt it with your fingers, trying to assess the moisture level and deepness of the mark. You thought about for a while.

“I’d say they’re quite fresh. Maybe this morning? Taloioang move slowly, about 1 click every hour or two, so I’d say we’ll find them about 2 clicks east?”

He didn’t even have to touch the ground to be able to assess it. He was impressive. 

“Good. Let’s go. We shouldn’t run, they have good hearing and the wind is blowing east, which means they’ll be able to smell us if we’re not careful. We will take a roundabout way and approach them from the south.” 

You both made your way through the forest and it was your turn to follow him, although you stayed close behind and tried to look around you and pick up on clues, tiny sounds and movements, trying to learn, trying to see. “Eyes on the tracks, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes, but did as you were told. Eventually, Neteyam let you deem the appropriate time to stray from the tracks and move south to avoid being spotted. Soon enough, you saw the herd of prodigious beings, bathing in a shallow lake. You made your way slowly, sneaking on the ground, with Neteyam close to you, and you felt his arms grazing your sides every inch of the way. 

The herd was protecting the calves, 5 in total, playing and splashing in the clear water. You watched in amazement, just enjoying the view of these seemingly ferocious beasts that in the moment, felt more like a family watching their children play at the local pool. You couldn’t believe the beauty and mild predisposition, the complex nature of these animals whose equivalents were long gone on Earth, long decimated by humans and their needless desire for wealth and acquisition, for mindless cruelty. You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that soon, this could be Pandora, if you didn’t fight will all your being in the upcoming war. 

You felt a sudden gentle pressure on your lower back, a pressure you quickly identified as Neteyam’s hand and you shuddered at the touch. He neared his mouth to your ears, and you felt his warm breath tickling your neck, a sudden warmth pooling in your lower abdomen. 

“You’re not allowed to kill anything yet, but I want you to show me how you would go about it. Show me your bow work, how would you aim from this position.”

You slowly removed your bow from from your person and sat up, in a now crouched stance, and loaded the arrow, doing your best to accommodate for the uncomfortable position you were in and the tight space you were sharing with another person. You held your breath, engaged your core, and aimed as if you were going to release your arrow on the target about 300m away. Neteyam’s large hand touched your upper thigh, by your left hip and squeezed gently. Your arm dropped suddenly and snapped your head in his direction. He didn’t react to your sudden snap, instead talking lowly, so as to not give your location away. “Your leg is not in a position by which you can maximise release. You will have more power in the shot if you place this knee on the ground and lean into it.” 

You wanted to take that hand and either break it or redirect it on other parts of your body that felt like they would explode if they didn’t feel him, have his touch provide the relief that was desperately yearned for, needed. You wanted to scream at him or make him coax the screams out of you like a war-cry, wild and desperate. You wanted to kill him, you wanted him to kill you, slowly and painfully, taking his time on your body until you were falling apart at the seams around him. You hated him, you loved him. You hated him.

You gave him a hard look, an angry look directed at your thigh, and he removed his hand from you. You wondered if he knew, knew what he was doing, wondered if he felt the same way, if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here. You hoped he did, hope it ate him alive, the yearning and the desire. Because that’s what it was doing to you, what he was doing to you. You turned your attention back to the herd and adjusted your position based on his advice. He was right, you could tell right away, as you felt a lot more power when aiming the arrow this time. 

“Much better. We can go now, we will give the location to the hunting party and the will be able to secure us dinner for a couple of weeks from the back of a couple of Ikrans.”

 

You made your way out of their surroundings, and slowly started walking back to the village. After about half an hour, he stopped on a rock and removed the food he was carrying in a pouch. You didn’t join him, preferring to keep your distance and thus a clear mind, not being able to afford being weak around him anymore. 

“I thought you were famished.” He says, with a slight smile. You shook your head and turned around, taking in the views of the forest, distracting yourself with the flowers reaching out their neon green tendrils towards you. You kneeled next to one, and touched them gently, enjoying the way they cupped around your hand and tugged, like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you. You heard him sigh loudly.

“Sorry for being a dick. Just had a fight with mum and dad, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, and I am sorry. Come eat, please? I don’t want you passing out on me, you’re not as easy to carry as you used to be when you were human.” 

You remained on your knees still, focused on only the plants and your gentle tug-of-war. You knew how much pressure Neteyam was under, has been for pretty much his entire life. A prodigy created… or made, no one could really know for sure, he began training when most babies learn to walk, and speak, and play. He has never had a childhood the way Lo’ak, or Kiri, or Tuk, or pretty much any other Na’vi children did, mostly fleeting moments of bliss in between a lot more moments of stress and struggle. He never complained, though. Not out loud, not to anyone else but you, once he realised you were a safe haven from the storm. You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud. You have always wanted to protect him from the world, a world that demanded so much of him, that asked for a sacrifice of which it was undeserving. Being Olo’yektan, leading the people, being the one person everyone relied on was a great honour, a great achievement - one you didn’t think he wanted, but was never given the chance to decline. 

“What happened?” 

You walked slowly towards the rock he was laying on, and sat at its foot, crossing your legs on the slightly damp grass. You grabbed a piece of jerky from the pile of food and slowly chewed through it, humming in appreciation at the smoky taste and rich flavour of the meat. 

Neteyam grimaced and didn’t look at you, choosing to focus instead of his arm guards, picking at something that was clearly not there. “More sacrifices I need to make in the name of the future, of the people.” 

“I see you still haven’t learnt to say no, even after all this time apart.” 

Neteyam’s hand froze in midair, his eyes widening slightly - it was the first time you brought up the year apart. He braced himself for what he thought was the beginning of the end, of you finally demanding answers he didn’t think would ever satisfy you, but no other words left your lips.  

“I can’t say no. I owe my parents everything I have, everything I am. This village, this life, is all I know. My dad gave up on everything he knew to stand up for our people, to make sure we’d get a future worth living, a family worth saving, a world still worth fighting for. He became Olo’yektan despite all that stood against him because he loved my mum, loved us, even then, even before we were born. My grandpa died defending this village, watching home tree get decimated in front of his eyes, with only the people’s safety on his mind and tongue. I see that bow that my mum cherishes like a gift from Eywa herself and I want to be worthy of it, someday. And if it means giving up some things, maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.” 

“Maybe whatever you’re giving up is making room for something ever better, Neteyam. Sometimes we want something so bad, we can’t see the forest for the trees.” 

He looks at you confused for a second.

“That’s a saying. What I’m trying to say is maybe you are over focused on something you want right now, that you think is the best thing for you, but maybe you just are not focusing on the bigger picture. Maybe in the future, whatever you’re giving up now will make room for something that was much better for you all along.”

Disappointment filled his chest at your words. Neteyam looked at you with deep sadness marking his features, and he could see you were trying to think of things to say that could make him feel better. In all honesty, he wanted - needed - you to tell him to be selfish, and trust his gut, and follow what he knew was right in his heart, but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

You felt an overwhelming sense of grief at the realisation that you will never get to see him become Olo’yektan, see him become the man everybody knew he was. He would never be yours, and although that painful conclusion had settled in your soul and had time to scar in all the time you knew him, a new wound, deeper, bloodier, deadlier, tore your heart apart at the thought you would not even be able to watch from afar. You would have been satisfied with scraps, just watching him rule, and be, and love someone else and imagining it was you. You never thought you’d get more than that anyway, never had any delusions for more. The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

You needed to leave, now. 

“Should we head back? It’s getting late.”

You walked back in deep, uncomfortable silence. Eclipse made the nature shine and glimmer with colours your sadness dulled to muted tones. There was light coming from the village and you realise how badly you wanted to be alone, in your tent and read, or watch a movie or a show, and ignore this world for a little while while you licked your newly-opened wounds. Tonight was a communal dinner around the big bonfire in the centre of the village, and you felt grateful your presence would not be missed in such a crowd. You’ve come to love these dinners, another one of the many ways the tribe connected to the village and to each other, but tonight you couldn’t entertain even the thought long enough to count.

“Can you please tell your family I am sorry, but I will probably head to bed early. I’ll be early for breakfast tomorrow, I promise.” 

“I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded absentmindedly and closed the flap of the tent shut.

Neteyam watched as you left him, still reeling from your conversation. Much like you, he just wished to hide in his family’s tent and pretend for a night things are different, that they are better. Actually, if we are talking about wishes, he wishes he could be in your tent. In all honestly, dealing with you on a day to day basis, seeing you, your body, touching it more and longer than he knew he reasonably had to, was making him think thoughts he knew he had no business thinking. In his wildest dreams, he’d be in your tent and making your eyes roll back in the way that drove him crazy. In his wildest dreams, he’d be coaxing sounds out of you that only he would ever hear. In his wildest dreams, your hands all over him would heal him and break him at the same time. He was desperately in need of some relief, and he loathed all decisions in his life that lead to you not being able to be the one to provide it for him. 

He made his way to the bonfire, and greeted all of the Na’vi that respectfully bowed their heads at his arrival. He saw his family at the centre of the crowd, where they normally sat, and joined them silently. They all gave him uneasy looks - all but one. Lo’ak was blatantly glaring at the older Sully, a look of disappointment and disgust marring his normally kind face that reminded Neteyam so much of their dad. 

“Did you tell her?” 

Kiri elbowed Lo’ak in the abdomen, but he didn’t flinch. He did not even bother to acknowledge Kiri, or the low hiss escaping their mum’s lips - his eyes were still boring into Neteyam, unwavering. 

“No.” Neteyam’s expression darkened and in a split second, he became the warrior his dad moulded him into. “And you will not, either, Lo’ak. Do you understand me?” Lo’ak had to look up to look at his brother who was now dangerously towering over him. 

“Oh, the mighty warrior giving out orders, what else is new?” 

“Lo’ak, that’s enough.” Neteyam heard Jake intervene, and he eventually had to physically put his body in between his two sons, who still refused to look away from each other.

“Fnawe’tu (coward).”

 

Neteyam watched his brother turn his back on his family and walk away from the feast, and although he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he knew deep down that Lo’ak was right.

 

You were almost robotically flipping through the directory of movies and tv shows on the laptop that you had with you in the village, not quite ready to go back to the lab and have to deal with the consequences of your newly acquired “condition”. You had all night to do experiments, and lie to yourself that you were fine until you eventually succumbed to a Xanax-induced blackout. You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

You saw a five-fingered hand emerge from the entrance to your tent, and you laughed incredulously at the clown you loved, who seemed to have a knack for improving your dour mood.

“I am here to bother you.” You got up and started making your way towards the entrance of your tent.

“Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” You say, laughing and pulling Lo’ak by the hand, so he stumbles unattractively into you. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him gently. “Skxawng.” 

“I should, but I am here instead. We haven’t had movie night in so long.” He lay on your sleep mat and you hissed for him to move over. “You’re getting way too comfortable hissing at people.”

“Not people, Lo’ak, you!” You smiled saying that, knowing you were quoting Kiri, and he groaned exasperatedly. 

A few more weeks passed, and you felt the discrepancy between your bodies become more pronounced than it had ever been. It turns out, the incubation period of a Na’vi virus in a human is not long at all, and roughly around last week, you began displaying symptoms. You were taking every drug under the sun to try to soften them, but you had seen one too many good Na’vi people die due to this to know what was lurking underneath the comfortable cushion of drug-induced health. Despite all that, you felt on top of the world in your avatar. You were continuously improving, and, with a little bit of luck, will be completing your first kill soon - the first stepping stone to becoming Taronyu, hunter. If you do that successfully, you will be taking your Iknimaya with other Na’vi apprentices, and finally get your own Ikran. You were buzzing at the thought, and the image of you flying in the sky was enough to push any other worries out of your mind. 

After that weird day that ended with Lo’ak in your tent watching Friends together and teaching him the chords to a song you both loved, things went back to normal, sort of. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the Sullys were hiding something from you. They exchanged looks, and avoided certain subjects, and you were starting to be worried they guessed you were ill, and were tiptoeing around the subject so as to not upset you. That was a good theory, although it could not explain the heavy tension between Neteyam and Lo’ak that also started that night. 

You saw them bicker and fight your whole life: two opposing personalities, both of whom had misunderstandings about the other. Neteyam could never understand Lo’ak, understand that, despite being the chieftain’s son and the grandson of the Tsahik and former Olo’yektan, people still looked at him like he was not quite full Na’vi. His eyebrows and five fingers made his appearance uncanny enough to always attract whispers and looks, and despite Lo’ak’s apparent devil-may-care attitude, he cared. Neteyam could also not understand anyone who wished to live freely and discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one. Finally, Neteyam did not understand that skill and tenacity doesn’t come easy to everybody, and the weight of living in his shadow was bearing heavily on his baby brother’s back. 

On the other hand, Lo’ak never tried to understand the burden Neteyam had to carry, because, in his desire to not appear weak, he took it in strides and never complained. Lo’ak never fully understood the downfalls of what being “the perfect son” brings: no freedom, no childhood, no time, no fun, no choice. He only ever focused on the positives: praise from his family and clan, skill and composure, the title of future Leader of the Omatikaya. He will also never be able to understand the depths of Neteyam’s love for him, who, despite all their differences, would be willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, to make sure his baby brother would never having to experience these burdens.

This tension felt like more. More than you’ve ever seen, not mended in time, they were always glowering at each other and only speaking to each other if prompted or forced by their increasingly frustrated family. You tried to talk to both of them individually and ask, but you were promptly sent on your way each time. You could tell Lo’ak was itching to spit it out, but every time he got close, he flashed you a look of hurt and fear, and moved on. 

Eventually, you stopped worrying about it. It will come out in time, and you had better things to worry about. Your training became brutal after that day tracking Sturmbeests. Neteyam would come to your tent before dawn, sometimes having to wait for you while you woke up in your Avatar body, and you were always gone past eclipse. You were tracking, joining hunting parties to learn, working on shooting arrows while on Pa’li or in nearly impossible positions (he made you shoot targets hanging upside down from the branches of trees, seriously) and working on guns and practicing with Jake and his soldiers. Jake made you his second-in-command during these sessions, and you enjoyed having the roles reversed and having to watch Neteyam squirm every time you touched his arm, or waist, or thighs, in order to adjust his shooting form. You also taught Lo’ak, sometimes late in the nights, where he would sneak into your tent and ask you questions about guns that he hoped would bring him in his father’s good graces for once in his life. You loved teaching them, and you felt powerful with all the eyes on you, trying to absorb every piece of information coming out of your mouth. 

“In your hands, you are holding a sub machine-gun.” You said and you made your way through the 10 soldiers in your midst. “It can fire up 600 rounds per minute. You have a button on the side of the weapon, as you can see right there”, you stopped and show everyone on your own weapon, “that allows you to choose between semi automatic and fully automatic. What’s the difference, Lo’ak?”

“A semi-automatic guns fires one shot when you pull the trigger, a fully automatic gun fires continuously until you release the trigger.” 

“Tsantu (good guy)!” you said with an intimate smile. Lo’ak was making amazing progress, and you were proud to be even a small reason why. 

Neteyam gave Lo’ak a hard look as he answered your question. He was angry with his brother because of his recent attitude, he thought. That’s the reason. Not at all because you were smiling at him with that dazzling smile that used to be reserved for him years ago, definitely not because he knew Lo’ak was sneaking in your tent at night and doing Eywa-knows-what, a fact which kept Neteyam up nights with images he would do everything in his power to be able to erase from his brain. Neteyam was exhausted. He hasn’t slept since this thing started, not until Lo’ak returned to his tent after his meetings with you, and he was able to look at him in the dim light of the night and gauge for himself if his brother was flushed, or panting, or extra happy for one reason or another. Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

Coward. Lo’ak words rang in his ears incessantly throughout each day, never being able to fully block them out. 

Neteyam saw you move from Lo’ak and towards him, and tried to remember what they were talking about. Sub-machine guns, right. 

“Now, SMGs are best used in tighter quarters or close to mid-range. The spread will make it inefficient for long-range. If you find yourself on the back of your Ikran shooting at a plane or Valkyrie, make sure you close the gap between you or use your bow, instead.”

“An SMG will have a lot of recoil, making it harder to shoot accurately, but there are a few tips you can use to make to improve your aim and accuracy.”

“First. Always fire in short bursts, if you are firing on automatic mode. A few shots at a time will make sure the kick is not unmanageable. Two, account for the kick and adjust your aim to compensate. Think of shooting an arrow and how you always take the wind, its direction, speed and power in consideration before you actually release. It’s a similar principle. The recoil will make the gun kick upwards, so always aim slightly lower than what you want to hit. Three, don’t aim for the head. Leave that for a bow or an assault/sniper rifle with a scope. Aim for the abdomen and chest, since that is a wider target and more likely to hit. Everyone on the same page?”

Neteyam was forever in awe of you, but it was particularly impressive watching you now. You were confident and powerful and knowledgeable. Neteyam felt bad admitting it, but you were a much better teacher than their dad ever was. Toruk Makto had many incredible qualities, but his patience was definitely not amongst them, and his lessons tend to get a bit derailed by his inability to understand that Na’vi are not predisposed to guns or understanding Sky People technology. You were calm, and kind, and funny, and you made it easy for everyone to follow your instructions. In the span on a few weeks, all of the Na’vi and Avatar soldiers training for the upcoming war became better at pretty much every aspect that they were training in, and I think everyone felt just a bit more comfortable about the conflict that was soon to befall them, with you by their side. 

After the lesson was complete, you left alongside Lo’ak, sparing one last look in Neteyam’s direction. He was already watching you, and you saw a fleeting angry look that was quickly replaced with an expressionless mask. He was getting good at that, you thought. 

“Do you want to do anything? If I have to listen to Kiri talk about all the new types of flowers and plants and shit she keeps finding in the woods, I will lose my mind.”

“Be nice.” 

Kiri has been particularly hyperfixated on her newfound discoveries recently, and you tried your best to pay attention to every time she was describing them, in detail, but in reality you were always so exhausted by the time dinner came around that you were only assimilating about a tenth of all the words coming out of her mouth. You felt bad, and made a mental note to dedicate a couple of days to your friend that you saw less and less each week. 

“Your Iknimaya is getting closer and closer each day, how do you feel?”

“Honestly I haven’t thought about it that much, just taking it one day at a time.”

“I think you should start thinking about it, cause it’s going to happen. You’ve managed to blow everyone’s expectations out of the water. It barely been two months since you got your avatar body, not even my dad did this so fast. You were made for this, Angel.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were grateful for Lo’ak’s faith in you, but with everything happening in your human body, it felt pointless looking towards the future. 

“You will be one of us, soon. I’ve had dreams about this my whole life, you know? It’s like I manifested your Avatar, Norm should be thanking me.” 

“Lo’ak…” 

You didn’t like the turn this conversation took, and felt an uncomfortable twinge settle in your chest at his words. 

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

Neteyam was making his way back to the village with the rest of the soldiers, casually chatting to one of the Avatars returning with them. He wasn’t paying attention to the way until his body knocked into one of the Na’vi walking in front of him. Utsou was staring intently at a scene unfolding in front of him, a scene that turned Neteyam’s blood to shards of glass, leaving cuts and bruises along his entire body. It was you, smiling, running your hand up and down Lo’ak’s arm whilst his hand was cupping your face and caressing your cheek. It was such an intimate interaction, it felt wrong to everyone there to even be able to witness it, and Neteyam felt himself becoming nauseous. With the image now seared into his memory and rage turning his breaths to pants, he turned around and left everything - everyone - behind. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @hayhay9091

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #loak reader #avatar loak

[cyarikakay]

In Every Universe I’ll Find My Way Back To You

In Every Universe I'll Find My Way Back to You

Hey guys, Welcome to chapter 4!! Thank you so much for the love on the previous parts of this fic!🖤 This part is a little bit longer. The next chapter I hope to have ready soon! Thank you all again for the support.

Some warnings for this chapter. Language, Jealous!Joel, Weapons, Age gap. I believe that is all if I missed anything I apologize.

Chapter 4: Battle of Malevolence VS Forgiveness

      The walk toward the Capitol was filled with a heavy feeling in the air.

You didn’t want to be angry at anyone, your goal was to just just keep peace. Pretend you didn’t know anything. Now here you are pissed off at half of the group. 

Ellie trailed along behind Tess with you in the middle and Joel closely behind.

She tried to continue to lighten the mood, she made little jokes here and there but none of us adults were really having it. 

“Y/n?” she whispered.

“Yes, Ellie?” It came out as more of a sigh than you intended it to. 

“Are you going to leave?” She sounded sad. This kid was smart and she caught onto everything.

Her words and the situation just took you back for a minute. Back to a fight that you and Joel had the first year the two of you were together. 

~Flash Back~

You and Joel went out on a friday night with Tommy at a local bar just for a few drinks in celebration, while Sarah was hanging out at a friend's house for the evening. 

Some Guy around your age came up and started trying to converse with you and naturally Joel got angry and wanted to leave.  You guys went home and fought about it for a while. Joel was very insecure , he tried his best to hide it. He didn't do it on purpose, Joel was very emotional before the breakout. 

He was pacing back and fourth in the living room as you sat on the couch watching him.

“Y/N, why didn't you say anything to me that he was bothering you !?”

“Joel it wasn’t that big of a deal, he asked to buy me a drink and I declined, I was there to be with you and to have fun.” you plead. You didn’t care about how pathetic you sounded, you just wanted to get your point across to him. 

“Y/n, did you want him to buy you a drink?” His chest was heaving and flushed red with anger, or maybe the liquor.

“Joel are you really asking me if I enjoyed another man flirting with me ?” 

“Maybe!” he shouted. Joel never raised his voice at you. 

“ I just … I know I'm not enough… I’m older and you deserve someone better.”  he almost whispered, shedding a few tears that he instantly wiped away.

You had tears welling up in your eyes at his words the way you remember, but you could have been full blown crying. 

“I love you Joel no one else you.”

“Are you going to leave?” he asked tears shedding down is rose colored cheeks. 

“Why would you ask that Joel?” you said walking up and wrapping your arms around his torso. 

You kissed his chest softly and rubbed a hand down his toned arm. 

“I love you Joel, and you are not old. I want you. Im not going anywhere.”

~End Flashback~

“Why would you ask that Ellie?”

She looked at you, some hurt and worry showing on her young face. 

“I know I’ll be out of Joel and Tess’s hair soon but... you make Joel happy. I like seeing people happy… And plus you actually talk to me and don't exactly follow what Tess says, which is nice to have someone kind of on my side.” 

You just met this kid two days ago and she already enjoyed time with you. And you with her, she is a good kid, very sweet, her words actually brought a slight tear to your eye. 

“Ellie, you are too sweet for your own good, don’t you worry.”

She smiled. 

You guys continued walking a good couple hours before you all decided to camp out for the night. Thank god you guys came across an old cabin, it was starting to rain and carrying wet bags around the next day wasn't your exact version of a good time. 

The cabin was fairly small, no beds or bedrooms, an old couch and what not displayed throughout the room. The fireplace seemed okay to use but you weren't exactly sure where you were and did not want to send any smoke signals to any raiders nearby. Tess threw out her sleeping bag in the one corner of the room with some throw pillows she found lying around. You thought for sure Ellie would try to fight Joel for the couch.

“Have the couch old man.” she joked with him.

“Well this old man is keeping you alive so it's the least you could do.” he replied. 

She laid her sleeping bag on the floor by the couch where Joel sat cleaning his gun. He made her feel safe. He made everyone feel safe… He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Protecting and taking care of everyone else, but never, or very rarely allowed anyone to take care of him. But that's all you wanted to do, but you were so damn angry with him for lying to you. 

Him lying to you about Tess just killed you.

It hurt. Not some teenage love hurt, hurt like someone took your heart outta your chest and stomped on it repeatedly. It only hurt this much because of all the trust, faith, and love you had for him. Joel and you got together at a rough time in your life before the outbreak. He was everything you knew. Every song unfinished he finished for you. 

 Joel's eyes scanned you as you crossed the room. You walked over to where Ellie was sprawled out and laid your sleeping bag close to her. You sat on top of it cleaning your gun, the same as Joel, and going through things in your bag.  

“I can watch tonight if you wanna get some sleep.”  Your words came out to him as more of a whisper than intended. Insecurities seeping through.

“It's alright get some sleep, Tess and I agreed to split, she'll take the second half and I’ll do first.”

You looked over at Tess’s sleeping body. You felt rejected in a way, like he was taking her side. You felt like a child thinking like that but how else are you supposed to feel right now. You laid down and turned to your side facing away from Joel's shadowed figure on the couch. You heard him get up and go outside onto the porch of the cabin. You felt the tears starting to well up in your eyes, your body started to shudder holding back quiet sobs.

“Y/n, are you awake” 

“Get some sleep Ellie.” you murmured. 

“Can we talk ? Just for a little?” she pushed, how are you supposed to tell her no?

“What's up?” 

“Joel's upset.”

“Ellie, we can talk about anything but him right now.”

“I’m just saying you should talk to him. But I’m a kid, what do I know?” 

You rolled over towards her and she had a grin on her face.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker ?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” she giggled out.

You leaned over to where she was, gave her a pat on the head and rolled back over and drifted off to sleep.

It was cold, very cold. You could feel your body shivering. It had to be at least 3 am, you only knew that because you heard shuffles of footsteps, which meant Tess and Joel were switching out for the night. Joel sat on the couch watching your shoulders rise and fall as you shivered. He came down and rubbed a hand gently up and down your arm. You tried to ignore him at this point, you didn’t feel like talking now. 

“I know you're awake, y/n/n. You are freezing.” he spoke so gentle it was hard not to melt at his words.

“I’m okay Joel.” 

He knew you werent, he knew you were hurting from his lie. But he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was going to be okay and that he had you. And more than anything he wanted to tell you he was sorry, that he was stupid and scared. But he didn’t want to push you. But at the same time he knew you, he knew how stubborn you could be and that sometimes you needed someone to just tell you how it was going to be. He walked away for a moment, he grabbed his sleeping bag from the couch and laid it down beside you. He laid on top and pulled you in close to him. 

“Joel don’t.” 

“Listen, I know you are mad at me, and I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry I regret lying to you. I really do, but you are freezing. You need to warm up and I'm not about to let you get sick. So you can lay here and be angry at me all you want but I’m going to hold you.” 

You couldn't fight at this point, you melted into his warm body, still angry but feeling safe and much warmer. You soon drifted off to sleep hoping that maybe tomorrow things would go better.

The sun seemed to come up quicker and quicker everyday. 

Tess came into the cabin and told everyone it was time to get moving. Ellie rustled her hair and groaned not wanting to get up. You loosened yourself from Joel's grip and tapped her on the leg and told her to get movin. She moaned and groaned some more but eventually got up and yall were off. 

Once you guys arrived into the city it was time to be extra careful. 

The open city was a rough place to be, infected everywhere, raiders, smugglers, even military, it just depended on the day. The main concern was the infected population increase.

You made your way stealthily towards the capitol building but most of the pathways were blocked off, and open roads and sidewalks were too risky. You hadn’t been this close to a city in a long time. It was sadder than you had imagined it would be. You missed seeing the kids running in the parks, hearing people playing music on their guitars at squares, you missed the normal small things in general. Now  buildings were shattered and blown to bits, Firefly logos painted onto the walls that remained, beautiful monuments were flooded from pipes or hydrants that had bursted. You missed a normal life with Joel. Things were simpler back then. Your favorite days were ones spent with Joel, Sarah, and Tommy. Whether it was movie night or cookouts in the summertime, you craved those moments.  Sometimes those memories sit and haunt you on bad days, sometimes they cheer you up when things get rough. But at the end of the day you were here. 

Coming up on a building Joel pulled back a piece of wood covering a door and held it for you to walk inside. You, Tess, and Joel all drew your weapons and flashlights to enter the dark building. You could hear the faint sounds of grunting coming from the back of the building. Ellie must have heard them too; she stepped closer to you, and grabbed your sleeve. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

You quickly shushed her. 

Joel turned around and looked at her and you, making sure you two were alright. 

“Ellie, from this point forward we are silent, not quite silent.” he whispered. 

She gave him a quick nod and continued up to the stairway. Joel and Tess were leading the way, Ellie was in the middle and you trailed behind making sure nothing followed. 

The staircase was flooded in dried, dead cordyceps. You had to avoid the chance of stepping on them they could make a loud cr-…

*Crunch*

Joel and Tess whipped their heads around to Ellie who had just stepped on one shaped like an arm. You quickly looked behind you making sure the noise didn’t startle anything. About that time you heard the familiar screeching and clicking coming from the bottom of the steps. 

Quickly you pulled out your silencer and attached it to your gun. Thank god for those things in a time like this. You all stayed still for a moment, that was until the old building decided to start to crumble and one of the ceiling boards fell not too far from you.  The clicker quickly reacted and started charging you all at the top of the steps.

“Joel get them out!” you whisper shouted to him. 

He stood there for a moment in thought he didn’t want to leave you behind. You whipped yourself back around and shot the clicker. You knew that this wouldn’t be the only one coming,that board definitely echoed. About that time three more came charging up the steps. 

“Joel! MOVE!” You shouted not caring how loud because you knew that there was already more coming. 

Joel quickly grabbed Ellie and pulled her up the stairs the rest of the way, letting Tess take the lead. You slowly made your way up the steps backwards making sure that none of them got up the stairs. You were taking shots at them left and right, trying to aim with only a small flashlight. You managed to get to the top of the stairs, nothing seemed to be insight any longer. You tried to maneuver your way through the debris quickly to catch up to Joel and the others. 

There was an open door that led to a casing room, silently making your way through the doors you neared to the right a bit around a L shaped case. Turning the corner trying to make sure the coast was clear with your gun in hand, a large hand came up over your mouth and pulled you back against them and the casing in one swift motion. Fight or flight quickly started to kick in. You started trying to get free from the grip quickly, until a quick motion had you face to face with Joel. You wanted to punch him for scaring you. He held up a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and then pointed towards a large mirror. Gazing at the mirror you could see two clickers reflections. He released his hand from your mouth ever so slowly. 

He bent down and picked up one of the old bottles laying on the ground. 

He tossed it in the opposite direction of Ellie and Tess so they could make their way over to where you and him stood. They quickly started making their way over when that familiar screech echoed on the walls again. Ellie made it over to you, but Tess was caught in the cross fires. You went out around the corner as fast as you could and shot at the clicker on top of her. 

She quickly stood up rubbing the gunk from the creature off of her tired body.

“Thanks Y/n.” 

“Of course.” You replied.

She stood there for a moment looking blank. 

“You okay Tess?” 

“Yeah I’m good, Thanks for still having my back.”

“ No problem, Lets get outta here okay?” She gave you an appreciative nod. 

After a few clickers and minutes later you made your way into the capitol building. 

You knew by the military shooting outside and the clickers screeches you had to make this a quick deal. Tess made her way into the building ahead of you, Joel and Ellie. She seemed angry once you got inside. All the weapons that they were supposed to receive were gone and all the Fireflies were dead. Her and Joel were pissed, you were too busy guarding the door to really pay attention until the clickers got closer to the door. 

“Uhh, guys they are getting really close, we need to go now.” 

You tried to hurry them out the door until Tess stopped. 

“Tess, what are you doing?”

“This is my last stop guys.” 

You, Joel and Ellie shared a confused look. 

“What do you mean Tess?”

She didn’t say a word. She stood completely still in stealth. 

“Oh my god… She got bit.” Ellie concluded. 

“Tess, No, when?” You asked.

“Let me see it.” Joel hissed. 

She pulled her collar down revealing the bite. 

“Tess, was this from the clicker I shot off of you or before?” You asked guilt washing over you. 

“It was before, a different one. I just didn’t know what to say. After you shot the clicker off I felt myself getting weaker. It's not your fault.” 

“Tess, I'm so sorry.” 

“You guys need to leave.” she scolded. 

She started dumping gasoline and emptying boxes of explosives on the ground. 

She then grabbed Ellie's arm comparing their bites explaining that this shit is real, Ellie is really immune, and that we needed to get the cure.

You didn’t want to leave her here. Not with clickers and the military trailing close behind.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for ratting you out to the Fireflies, It was selfish.” 

You wanted to be angry at her still. But you couldn’t, you had to big of a heart for that. Grudges were easy to hold,but forgiveness was strength.

“Tess, I'm not angry, I forgive you.” 

The doors of the building started to rattle. 

“Go!” Tess yelled at Joel. 

Joel grabbed you and Ellies wrists and began dragging you both out. 

You were barely from the building before the ground started to rumble. You could hear faint shot gun sounds. Then suddenly you felt a gust of heat hit your back with such force that it knocked you off your feet, ejecting the three of you into the air and away from each other into the grassed area behind the now burning building.  

You felt yourself come down hard onto a rocky area. You laid there still for a minute, ears ringing, body aching . The strong smell of gasoline and fire in the air with a hint of iron.  

Iron you thought, you reached for the strong pain in your side feeling for an injury. You slowly lifted your fingers to your blurry eyes. You were seeing doubles, maybe even triples, at this point. But what you were sure of was the crimson colored blood dripping off your fingers. 

“Y/N!?” 

You could hear Joel and Ellies faint screams as your vision turned black…

#joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel x reader #joel x plus size reader #joel miller x reader #jealous!joel

[endermahn]

SMALL BOXING AU WENCLAIR.

Oh my god writers block for fhe IFHY series is beating my ass rn bc i lost my reference.

(Still expect a new chapter, just expect if sunday night or monday early early morning like 1am or something my time/my country time.)

So have a little Wednesday Boxer Au where shes selective mute 👍

Idk how to start it…

TRIGGER WARNINGS: none really, some violence but its VERY minor, just like “She knocks them out!” Stuff like that, saving all my detail for the series. Oo theres some mention of blood though. VERY BREIF mention of needle?

This is unchecked over, like all my other work.

No specific music, dont stop believing started playing though, so maybe its a sign?

——————

Wednesday stepped into the changing room and got dressed quite quickly.

Her match was up in 3 others.

She was used to the weighted feeling in her stomach, the feeling that tingled up her spine and left through her arms, sometimes creeping up her neck to give her an involuntary twitch to be rid of it.

The ravenette quite enjoyed it, though. The horrible feeling it gave quite euphoric, making her feel even more weightless than usual.

Untouchable.

She heard the first match end, with that the feeling grew, attempting to escape out of her mouth.

The soft, droning chatter kept her grounded, the talk of who was next, people trying to see their opponent early or just having general conversations as if they weren’t about to knock each other out a moment later.

Thing tapped softly on her thigh, and with that she looked down.

Her eyebrows questioned his actions and he signed to her

“I found your opponent.”

And with that the second match was over, cheering, clanking and over all screaming could be heard from practically miles away.

She signed back

“Where are they?”

“Follow me.”

Wednesday got up, leaving the space with her bag and water bottle behind.

After quite the short walk, she spots the character thing was describing on the way over.

Blonde, the bottoms being dyed opposing colours.

Fangs being exposed while she was laughing, intimidatingly needle like.

“This her?” Wednesday’s hand started signing, making quite klunky sounds on the table next to her.

However, she didn’t get to finish as her opponent noticed her.

She turned around and happily skipped toward.

Wednesday’s eyes were glued to her, skeptically eyeing her and checking her out to see how she could beat her.

“Hey!” She shouted out “Are you my opponent? My friends pointed you out to me a second ago!” The blonde chuckled, huffing out air. “Im Enid, pleasure to meet you. And to fight you, of course.”

The raven like girl backed up a bit, slightly frowning at such a bubbly girl.

Her hand didn’t hesitate or leave a beat to pass as she signed:

“Yes, I am your opponent. My name is Wednesday. It is a pleasure to fight you. Thing told me about you.” She struggled a bit with the last parts, not being sure how it were to translate properly.

“Ohh” Enid’s eyes were struck with realisation. “Okay I get you, Its really nice to meet you, Wednesday! And hello, thing” Her eyes calmed a bit as she said the other girl’s name, her shoulders slightly relaxing.

Thing waved to Enid happily.

“It really is nice to meet you, sometimes I go into the ring not knowing the opponent and the look in their eye kinda scares me” The taller girl huffs put happily now.

Wednesday signed quickly, now more knowing of Enid’s abilities of reading sign. “Personally I find their look of pure murder relaxing, it makes me become much more relaxed when I see that break down as they run out of stamina.”

“Ah, well its a selective likeness, I suppo-“ The bell rings out and another floor of cheering fills the gaps in the air.

“We’re on.”

“We are. Well it was nice speaking to you, and just so you aren’t disappointed, be aware my flame definitely isnt going to be put out.” Enid smiled at this, giving the other girl a wink, then she walks out and to her side.

Thing signs on the remaining girl’s shoulder.

“I like her”

Nothing could tear Wednesday’s eyes from Enid Sinclair.

[valdederon]

FLAMES JOURNEY CHAPTER #14 ancient secrets and difficult combat

with in minutes of valdederon beeing surounded hebegins dodging attacks from the ancient gollems witch use elemtntal magic attacks one even using a type of lava magic melting the stone floor in spots

valdederon---- well this is a dam fine situation isnt it.. fuk sake.

he dodges out of the strikes and uses a quick attack to dart through a gap out of the room to get some distance and begins firing stone bullet spells to see how efective thed be only taking out 3 of the more delapidated golems the stones bouncing off the others so he switches up to wind type blade spell witch cuts into the thick stone causing light cracks.

valdederon---well..thats good to know.wind blade works to some extent.. but theres to many of them to try an use it repeatedly.

for an hour valdederon fights the hyper agressive gollems dopping them slowly 1 at a tyme having to focuse all his energy at one target at a time to take them down with any speed only having taken out 7 he pants heabily and notices at a fiar few are lined up in a perfect row and unleashes a holy javiline the spear of ligning ripping 12 in hallf all at once the other gollems backing up slighly reccognizing the danger of bunching up close together the cores of the 12 golems melted into ap udle of molten stone silver and gold.

valdederon---fuking hell these buggers are smart..

panting heavily valdederon holds his staf up and out forward of his body staring down the rest of the 31 golems both sides at a stale mate neither side making a move giving valdederon ample time to rest and recover some of his arcane power and physical stamina. soon one golem aproaches non agressively core yellowish orange instead of agressive red as if aproaching to end the stale mate.

valdederon--- can you rock heaps speak..niether one of us have gained much ground and youve all seens my holy javiline spell can tear you apart.. and to get to me youd have to enter the hallway witch would become a kill box.

the golem begins projecting poke script in the air with a magic projection

gollems pokescript --- state your business in this sacred place flesh bag.. or be torn apart

valdederon-- realy.. rock for brains.. kill box… holy javiline.. 12 dead at once.. i have more powerful and destructive spells by the way.. call me by my name.. valdederon and ill answer your question.. other wise ill come in and destoy the rest of you.. all 31 of you..

the gollem takes a moment to process it and reply

gollem pokescript --- verry well valdederon.. state your purpose in this sacred place

valdederon--- at the moment exploring and looking for any valuable knowledge.. if your willing tp part with it id also like to take some jewels and gems to help pay for the damage i caused in my guild i dont wish to plunder your.. sacred grounds dry..

the gollems all seem to think while stading still. untill attacking att at once valdederon sighing in anoyance

valdederon--- fine.. your funeral holly javiline i callapon you split your self into many and pierce my foes

a laerge gold ligning spear forms and splits into several smaller ones from edge to edge filling the hall way and unleashing them selves into the golems in a coninuous volley like a macgine gun mowing down an army after a short 10 minutes all thats left of the gollems ias a molten puffle as valdederon walks back to the room finding many books and even a old note paper next to a long dried ink well and a feather pen inside it he picks up the note and begins to read it.

(( WARNING DESCRIPTIONS OF HATE AND ABUSE OF ANOTHERS RACE ))

note ->-- i find my self one of verry few left who still rembers the old ways of magic.. my name is sellpheema and im in some ways consideered an infadell.. the fairies have tried to shield me but the world changes and its become bigoted.. hateful distrusting.. im a half blood. a vile sach of flesh.. ive even been caled tainted fairy.. my best friend was exacuted weeks ago he was a kind boy only 326 years old.. still a young adult. his wings were riped off of his my mother a clefable told me to run and find some place safe to hold down. my dad a type of fairy called a pixie is probably out exploring old ruins and researching them. if you find this note and this old crypt treat my treasures with respect and love my delphox friend left me his staff and left a coupel days ago ugh ill have to build gollems to protect my crypt here i leave you the reader evrything i posess in the event im long since passed on. please stay safe and stand up to bullies revive magic in this world.

valdederon--- poor guy must have been rough no wonder the gollems were agressive.. ill collect this stuff after reading up thes books. ha ha vex will be happy to have some new books in the archives.

he looks through the books carefuly turing the pages by using psychic on it avoding tearing the delicate and fragile paper thats hundreds of years old or older eventualy finding out that magic once existed commonly along side pokemon some pokemon even beeingable to use magic and a diagram of the planet with 4 dots in a squar shape that form the 4 arcane nexus gates witch are now long since closed

valdederon-- odd if the arcane nexus gates are closed how can i still use magic.. could it be because my soul is conected to this world and my old world . ill have to research into it and this dark presence mentioned in the last 4 books.. its odd as well as if somthing evil is trying to pluncg the planeti into perril.

he uses his item box spell and puts evrything accept the staff in it and begins to search for an exit out of the ancient crypt eventualy finding his way out the sun now setting as he heads back to the guild furr dusty and matted from the fight and he walks up to the archives slowly and exaustivly knocking on the door to see if vex is awake to wicth she opens the door with a groggy smikle

vex--- you look like a ryhorn ran ya over.. whats up kid

valdederon--- stumbled into a crypt full of gollems and found some books for you they need to be restored and such they are evrry dellicate.. i had to use psychic just to read them they are on the verge of becoming dust.

she smiles and heads inside with valdederon and he uses psychic to pull the books out of his item box and gingerly sets them on her work table.

vex--- aint seen parchment like this in a good thousand years or so. these books are verry valuable good on you for not touching them ill get to work right away.. ill give ya some coin for them so you

valdederon shakes his head

valdederon---ive got all i wanted from them plus there were other treasures in the crypt to so i can pay back the guild for the mess i caused awhile back.. im sure the guild could also do some shopping to .

he heads to the guild masters quarters were he still sleeps and smiles when kleo and tiga both growl alittle

kleo---were have you been

taiga--- why is your furr a mess

valdederon--- kind of got stuck in a crypt while i was exploring the forrest abit might have alos melted a few gollems as well but i also came back with books for the archives and some treasuers for the guild

they sigh and chuckle at the explanation.

taiga-- well go get cleaned up and then in the morning we can look at what you got for the guild

valdederon--- i found more then just the treasures.. i found questions and more info about this world.. old secrets this world used to have magic but the sources of the magic have been closed off. tomorrow ill deposit the treasures in the guild treasury and head to the training hall im more determined now to be a pheonix hawk there are lots of questions that need answers.

he heads to the bathing hall and gets cleaned up and then comes back laying down and promptly passing out snoring deeply.

[geges]

shakes this fucking restaurant. give me a jooobbbb give me a fucking jobbbbb

#i have to stay in this shitty little city for 3 nights a week now and classes are only like 2 to 3 hours a day. #so im trying to find another part time to fill that time gap. and all these restaurants r like :) haha we need employees #but specifically only during the 3 hours u work on these days :) #bangs on the doors of the greco-mexican restaurant urgently hiring. I SPEAK FLUENT GREEK SPANISH AND ENGLISH IM AN EXPERIENCED LINE COOK #LET ME INNNN LET MEEE INNNNNNNNNNN #PLEASE I WILL WORK FOR MINIMUM WAGE I JUST WANT. ANOTHER JOB. SOBS

[iyumeu]

spirit guardian

You call forth spirits to protect you. They flit around you to a distance of 15 feet for the duration. If you are good or neutral, their spectral form appears angelic or fey (your choice). If you are evil, they appear fiendish.

summary: you've been trying to keep things under wraps but when the bullying escalated and you find your life in danger, your demon finds out and the results are... not pretty. warnings: gore, blood, violence, body horror, self-mutilation, the boys are a little dark in this one, i would say hints of yandere, im not that good of a gore writer though so like if you're super into gore please dont expect much, but please read the warnings before each segment thank you.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━✿ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ✿━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You didn't want to admit it, but you were being bullied.

You had always known that the demon brothers had their own responsibilities to deal with and couldn't be with you all the time. The sentiment stretched over to your problems as well. They definitely had better things to concern themselves with and you weren't about to bother them with your insignificant issues, especially petty issues that surfaced from demons' general dislike of humans.

It wasn't anything you couldn't handle, really; acidic words spat at you in whispers, torn books here and there, a subtle exclusion from classroom activities... Small, inconsequential things that made you amused on a good day and irritated on a bad one. Harmless.

Or so you thought.

When the foot swung into your stomach, you swore you heard a sickening crack and you were flung into the wall behind you. Blood gurgled in your mouth and you spat it out on the ground in front of you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. After spending an entire year in the Devildom and making a pact with all of the demon brothers, you had gotten complacent. Believing your bullies to be merely harmless schoolyard types, you had followed them to a shady and secluded part of the R.A.D. because they wanted to "talk".

You had paid dearly for carelessness, completely caught off guard when one of them pierced you with a sharp jab of their arm. You remember feeling nothing but winded at first, shock numbing your nerves until you saw red trailing down their hand, dripping off the sharpened claws of their nails.

It was then that a scorching pain spread out from the gored out hole in your abdomen, spreading out to the rest of your body.

In hindsight, everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, you were slumped over on the floor and bleeding out. Even through your blurry vision the demons' malicious glee was clear as day.

"Not so proud now, are you?" one of them spat out. "Always looking down on us just because you were hanging off the arms of the Lords of Hell. Guess we're the ones looking down on you now!"

You were starting to shiver from the cold as blood soaked through your clothes, watching the demons advance while wondering if you were really going to die from as something as petty as this.

And then, one of your pact marks flared to life.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━✿Ꮚ´•̥̥̥ ‸ •̥̥̥Ꮚ✿━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Lucifer

cw: body horror

A single black feather slowly drifted down onto the ground before you. The rest of the world turned hazy as your gaze focused onto the feather, long and elegant and delicate, watching as it fell into a pool of your blood. A pair of polished black shoes entered your line of sight before their owner crouched down in front of you, uncaring of the blood seeping into and staining his clothes.

A gloved hand reached out to cup your cheek, a gentle touch against your skin, and you sluggishly moved your gaze up to Lucifer's face.

"MC," he sighed. His eyes were dark, a complete contrast to the tender look on his face. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

His wings stretched out behind him, a dark expanse of feathers that curled around the both of you, separating you from the world... and the world from you.

"Lucifer," you began, but he was quick to press his thumb against your bottom lip, halting your words.

"This isn't a one-off, I assume?" he asked despite already knowing the answer. You avert your gaze and he sighs again. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to bother you," you said.

"I see." Lucifer's hand moved to pull out a black silk handkerchief, using it to clean the blood off your face. "Then it seems that I have failed you, if you believe that relying on me was not an option at all."

"That's not true...!" You were interrupted by Lucifer gathering you in his arms, while he took care to avoid your wounds as much as possible. With a gentle hand, he guided you to rest your head against his shoulder as he slowly shifted to a standing position, ready to bring you back to the House of Lamentations. His arms were warm around you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe and secure. You felt that, if you were by his side, you would never run into harm again.

It was then that you finally remembered your bullies, the ones who had put you in this state in the first place. Had they left the area, running off at the sight of Lucifer? That was most likely the case, you thought, but you still couldn't help but peer over Lucifer's shoulder and through the gaps of his wings, to check.

Your breath caught in your throat. Lucifer immediately placed a hand over your eyes.

"Shhh," he said. "Don't dirty your eyes with such a disgusting sight."

It was now that you were finally aware of a strange and disturbing cracking sound coming from behind Lucifer. A brand new chill settled down upon you, your body seizing up with fear. Suddenly, you wanted nothing but to put space between Lucifer and yourself.

As if he were aware of your thoughts, Lucifer shifted his hand from your eye to the back of your head, cradling you close to his body as he started to walk away from the scene. His wings were properly positioned this time and you were unable to peer through them.

Lucifer Morningstar. The First-Born. One of the strongest Lords of Hell. These titles hadn't meant anything to you before, but now they were are the forefront of your mind. The glimpse you had stolen before Lucifer turned your gaze away was now burnt into your retinas.

Your bullies' bodies hovered in the air with their limbs stretched impossibly long, curled up and tangled around their twisted bodies like a grotesque ball of yarn. Their mouths were torn open, jaws dislodged and handing horrible from their skull, eyes wide as they screamed silently for someone, anyone to put them out of their misery.

You knew that they would not die, not until someone found them and decided to kill them. And, considering the area they were in, it would take an extremely long time before someone were to chance upon them.

They had planned to use the remoteness of the location against you. They never could have thought that it would be used against them in the same way. This was something Lucifer had definitely taken into consideration.

Lucifer's arms were a cage around you; what was once comforting now felt suffocating.

"Lucifer," you managed to force out. You felt him lean down and press a kiss against your hair.

"It seems that I have to teach you how to be more reliant on me," Lucifer said in a tone as if he were speaking about the weather. "It wouldn't do for something like this to happen again."

"It won't," you were quick to say. "It won't happen again, I promise."

Lucifer looked down at you. You were the only thing reflected in his eyes as he gave a small, gentle smile that gave you a sense of dread that went down to your very bones.

"Don't worry, little lamb. For you, I will be a very forgiving master."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━[ᓀ˵◇˵ᓂ]━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Mammon

cw: violence and a lil bit of gore

The sudden caw of a crow drew the attention of your bullies. You tried to take the chance to stand up and run but merely shifting in place caused the pain in your abdomen to flare up, white hot and blinding. You hiss through your teeth, swallowing your yelp of pain.

There is a second caw. You look up and see at least a dozen crows perched up on windowsills and tree branches, their heads tilted in the direction of your bullies and their dark eyes glinting with something that invoked a sense of unease within you.

"Why are y'all distracted by a bunch of birds?" the lead demon barked out. They were not doing a good job of masking their apprehension. "We're here to teach this pathetic human a lesson, not gawk at crows!"

"But aren't those..." another student began.

The flutter of wings echo all around. More crows land on nearby fixtures; ten, fifteen, twenty. You slowly look up and see more black shapes flying in the sky above, circling the area like vultures to their prey. You hear the sound of wings flapping once again, closer this time, and Mammon lands in front of you, wings spread and in his demon form.

"...aren't those Lord Mammon's crows?" the student finished weakly. The demons were looking pale now, realizing just what they had done. You paid their expression no notice, filled with relief now that your guardian demon is here. Mammon, who despite his reputation, was always your reliable protector. Mammon, who always went out of his way to ensure your safety in the Devildom. Mammon, who... who was holding one of the demons up by their skull, uncaring of their struggles and pleas as their hands scramble against Mammon's, their toes skimming the ground. The other two demons were already running off, uncaring of their companion but Mammon didn't seem to notice, his attention on the demon in front of him.

In the back of your mind, you noticed that the demon was the one who had stabbed you with their hand.

"Mammon?" your voice came out in a whisper. The demon's pleas turn into screams of agony as Mammon tightened his grip. "Mammon!"

Mammon turned to you, eyes bright and feverish.

"Don't worry, MC," Mammon chirped. "I'll be quick!"

Mammon didn't lie. Immediately after his words, there was a frenzy of feathers and caws and screams. Just as quickly as it happened, the crows dispersed and the body dropped to the ground with a sickening thump, an unrecognizable, bloodied version of itself.

Mammon was holding something in his hands and, after he made his way back to you, he placed it in your lap. The blood-soaked wallet seemed to weigh a ton, its blood further staining your uniform. Mammon was beaming, standing in front of you like a dog waiting to be praised.

"That's compensation!" he said in his usual, nonchalant tone. "You deserve it after what they put ya through!"

Another caw sounded out and you couldn't help but flinch violently. Mammon was immediately kneeling beside you, soothing you with his bloodied hands. The sickening smell of bloodrust grew stronger with his proximity and you fought the urge to lean away.

A few crows hopped towards you, dropping more bloodied items onto the ground beside you. Staring blankly at those items, you recognize them as the necklace one of the other demons had on, a ring one of the demons who had fled the scene had worn, a earring, a tooth, bits of gold-tipped fingernails...

You lurched to the side, uncaring of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen, and started heaving. Mammon gently pat your back, trying to comfort you. It only made you more nauseous, the scent of blood overwhelming your senses once again.

For the first time since you arrived in Devildom, Mammon's presence invoked a sense of fear within you.

"I should've stayed by your side," you heard Mammon mutter. "Shouldn't have allowed those bastards to get to ya."

"Mammon..." You could predict the trajectory of his thoughts and desperately wished you were wrong. "It's not your fault," you choked out. Please, please, please—

"But it was!" Mammon argued. "If I were always by your side, they wouldn't have had the chance to even touch you!"

"It was my fault," you begged. "I didn't want to bother you so I didn't say anything!"

Mammon frowned. "I didn't think you needed protecting even from yourself."

oh. oh no.

Mammon carefully scooped you up into his arms. This time you could not help your flinch, but Mammon didn't seem to notice.

"It's okay!" Mammon said cheerfully. "If you can't take care of yourself, I'll take care of ya! I'm your guardian demon, after all!"

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Leviathan

cw: drowning, but u watch it happen. doesn't happen to u

The demon suddenly froze in their step, their hands coming up to grab their throat. They curled over and started coughing, started heaving, out long and stringy bits of black and green matter.

No matter how much the demon vomited out it never seemed to end and soon it was strewn all over the ground, accompanied with the pungent scent of rotten fish and the salty tang of the sea.

You blink and Leviathan was suddenly standing beside you, sharp teeth bared in a snarl and long black tail whipping around in agitation.

"Levi...?" you spoke slowly. You had never seen him this agitated before

"They hurt you," Leviathan said. His voice was low with an eerie quality to it; it was like a reverb, an echo, and it brought to your mind stories of hallucinatory voices sailors often heard at sea, beckoning them overboard.

The demons were frozen in place as Leviathan stalked towards them, slowly circling around them like a shark around prey. Then, another demon started choking, doubling over and throwing up the same black and green mess the first one did. The smell of fish and the sea grew stronger and you suddenly realize that they were vomiting out seaweed.

"I was wondering what was so important to you that you forgot that we were going to talk home together but I see now."

The third demon fell to their knees, clawing at their throat as they started throwing up seaweed as well.

"All this time I thought that you finally realized that I was just a no-good loser otaku... but that wasn't the case, was it?"

Levithan's voice was smooth, calm, and still retaining that ethereal quality to it. It felt like it was being spoken directly into your head rather than coming from in front of you. It made goosebumps rise up on your skin.

"Levi—" you tried again but you were interrupted.

"I should have known better!" Leviathan laughed. "My Henry wouldn't do that to me! No, the fault lies with these interlopers, trying to take you away! Trying to kill you!"

The first demon's face was turning pale. They tried to gasp for air but a strange froth poured out of their mouth instead, followed by water, copious amounts of seawater splashing violently onto the floor.

"But it's okay!" Leviathan turned to you, smiling brightly. It was the same smile he gave when he got a new high score on the game and was eagerly awaiting your reaction, it was the same smile he gave when he ran up to you with a drink in hand while you were queuing for him in C.S., it was the same smile he gave when he managed to get two tickets to an event and brought you along as his plus one. "I'll protect you! And I'll get revenge for you too, just like the Lord of Shadows does for Henry! Like in Volume 17, when Henry was kidnapped by the Lord of Lechery's jealous ex-paramours, the Lord of Shadows showed up and summoned his familiar to rip them apart..."

Leviathan glanced back at the demons for a moment. All three of them were coughing out seawater now and turning shades of blue. Long, red gashes left behind by desperate nails ran down their necks as they tried, in vain, to claw for air. Seawater was also dripping from this nostrils, bubbling from the horrible breaths of air they were trying to take. There was a sneer on Leviathan's face but it was quick to disappear when he looked back at you. When he stepped closer, you noticed that the pupils of his eyes had turned to sharp slits.

"I can't summon Lotan here to punish them; Lucifer would be mad and more importantly you might get hurt! So I did the next best thing! I know that drowning is a very slow and painful way to die, especially if you fight against it, so I thought that it would be a suitable alternative for a punishment!"

He looked so pleased with himself. It was like killing people for revenge was on the same level of enjoyment for him as getting merch of a character he liked.

Without a care for the demons behind him, Leviathan quickly made his way up to you, making sure to be careful as he picked you up off the ground.

"See?" he grumbled, "this is why I say that staying in my room is so much better." He paused. "Ah, do you want to see them drown the entire way?" You quickly shook your head no. "Yeah, you're right. That'll take too much time. I'll bring you to Satan to get you wounds healed. Afterwards, don't think of even taking a step out of my room, alright! You've already seen how dangerous the outside world is!"

With that last sentence, he carried you away. You desperately hope that Leviathan was joking about it but something about the way his tail curled possessively around your ankle made you think otherwise.

In your periphery vision, you notice the demons lying on the floor, some of them twitching and some of them writhing around. You close your eyes, and look away.

⭒☆━━━━━━～>º˵)ニニニニ>━━━━━━☆⭒

Satan

cw: just. loads of violence and gore

There was a large, gaping hole in one of the demon's abdomens, directly mirroring yours. Except it was larger, more brutal, and much more horrible than the one they inflicted on you.

Satan removed his hand from the demon's abdomen with a loud, wet shlick. The demon fell to their knees, clutching at their open abdomen. Satan smiled a bright, close-eyed smile. For once his spiked tail wasn't curled around his leg, instead gently swaying back and forth as he reached forward to yank the demon's intestines from the hole.

Perhaps it was due to the manner of the wound or the force Satan used but it didn't take long for the intestine to snap and for Satan to hurl it to the side in annoyance.

"Can't even do one thing right," he sneered. He raised his foot only to harshly stomp down on the demon's back. It landed with a sickening crack and the demon collapsed onto the floor, spine bent at an irregular angle. They were still screaming in pain. They were still alive.

Your voice was trapped in your chest, your eyes wide open and unable to be torn from the horrific scene happening in front of you.

Satan moved onto the next demon, grabbing them by the hair and pulling sharply to the side. When the third demon tried to scramble away, Satan froze them in place with a simple flick of his fingers and an uttered spell.

With his attention now turned back to the demon in his grasp, Satan used his other hand to hold the demon's head in place as he slowly pulled at their hair until it started peeling off, a thin layer of skin attached to the base of the strands and holding them together. That wasn't enough for Satan, though, and he inserted his long fingernails into the demon's eyes, scooping them out with barely contained glee.

"This is what you get for thinking that you can even look at MC," Satan told the demon. He then dropped that one onto the ground as well, kicking them in the stomach and sending them skidding across the rough earth.

It was at this moment that you realized that this was the demon who had kicked you into the wall... and the earlier demon was the one who had stabbed you with their nails. The last demon, the one Satan was dragging towards you now, was the one who had called you out in the first place. The one who had put the entire bullying thing into motion.

Satan kicked the back of their legs, making them drop onto their knees in front of you. Now that you had a much closer, unwanted look at them, you notice that their lips had been stapled shut, the dull metal gleaming slightly in the limited light.

"Sorry for taking so long, kitten," Satan apologized to you in his usual, gentlemanly tone. "I might have gone a little bit overboard." When he directed his words to the demon trembling in front of you, he was much harsher. "What are you waiting for? Not going to apologize?!"

The demon made some muffled cries, completely unintelligible from behind his cruel gag. A nasty smile spread across Satan's face. "Oh, I forgot. You can't speak, can you? Well, it seems like you'll have to apologize in another manner."

Satan reached around and ran a finger down from the center of the demon's collarbone to their sternum. From this close you could see the sweat dripping down the demon's face, hear the whimpers from their throat, feel their agony as Satan peeled off the left side of the demon's skin, revealing their rib cage and organs.

"You can still apologize with your heart," Satan told the demon. "Can't you?"

"S... Satan." Somehow, you managed to muster up the willpower to speak. "Satan, I can't do this."

Satan's green eyes were on you now. He was confused for a moment before clarity entered them. You waited for him to move the demon away, but he never did. Instead, he dug his fingers into the demon's rib cage and pulled it out, like one would with a closet door.

The demon screamed from behind his gag.

"Of course, silly me. You wouldn't be able to reach his heart due to his rib being in the way! Well it should be easier now, yes?"

You were going to be sick.

"I don't... I don't want this, Satan," you forced out through gritted teeth. Satan frowned, but it was directed to the demon.

"Hear that? MC doesn't accept your apology." He discarded the demon to the side before kneeling down in front of you, offering blood-soaked hand for you to take. "I'd love to torture them for you some more, MC," he said gently, "but I don't think now's a good time. You need to get your wounds cleaned and healed."

You closed your eyes and looked away. Even though you were trying your best to block it out, the scent of blood was still strong in the air.

You heard Satan chuckle in front of you. "I know," he said in an indulgent tone, "but I'm serious. I read that humans are a lot more fragile than demons so I need to disinfect your wounds at the very least. We can always come back later; it's not like they'll be running away any time soon."

You tried to tell Satan that there was nothing more you wanted than to never see this sight again, but you couldn't open your mouth without throwing up.

"If you don't stop throwing a tantrum, I'll get angry," despite his words, his voice was more amused than anything. You forced yourself to speak.

"It... hurts," you ground out. "I can't... move."

"Oh." His voice was deeper now. Your eyes flew open to see him trembling with rage as he glared towards one of the nearby demons. "I see. It appears that I've been too lenient with them." His gaze went back to you and softened. "Don't worry, I'll make them pay their dues. Now, this might hurt but I'll try my best to be gentle."

Without giving you a chance to react, Satan scooped you up into his arms taking care not to aggravate any of your wounds.

"We'll return to the House of Lamentations first," Satan told you. "When I'm sure you're fine, I'll bring demons to you instead. How does that sound?"

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his chest and pretended to sleep. You hoped the demons died before Satan came back to get them... for their sake.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━(=🝦 ༝ 🝦=)━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

sorry things are short from here on out. im tire. d

Asmodeus

cw: suicide

You hear Asmodeus gasp before he quickly placed himself between you and the demons. Relief flooded you at the sight of your friend.

"Darling! What happened to you?!" he bemoaned, reaching forward to wipe a smear of blood off of your face. You smile weakly at him.

"I just got a little hurt, that's all. Can you bring me home?" you asked. Behind him, you can see the demons backing away.

"Hurt...?" Asmodeus's eyes trailed down and landed on the horrid wound in your abdomen. You blink and suddenly found him in his demon form, wings twitching with agitation.

"Asmo...?"

Asmodeus abruptly stood up and turned to face the demons. You see them freeze in place and an eerie blankness washed over their faces.

"My darling is hurt," he whined. "Do you know who was the one who did it?"

The demons pointed at each other, neither of them willing to take the blame. You see Asmodeus cock his hip and rest his cheek against the palm of his hand.

"There's so many conflicting answers that I'm soo confused. Ah! I just had a great idea! I want you to kill that horrible, horrible person who harmed by darling. You can do that, right?"

In a blink of an eye, the demons turned on each other, ripping each other to shreds with the utmost of ferocity. Meanwhile, Asmodeus stood in front of them, calmly watching them tear each other apart whilst humming a cheerful melody. Soon, only one demon was left, bloodied and bruised, and they collapsed in front of Asmodeus.

"Wow!" Asmodeus cheered superficially. "Now, I want you to kill yourself!"

The demon faltered. Asmodeus grabbed them by the chin, long nails leaving angry red lines on their skin as he forced them to look into his eyes.

"I want you," he repeated slowly, "to kill yourself."

The demon's expression was completely blank and open as they nodded at Asmodeus before placing their hands around their neck and squeezing.

Asmodeus stepped back to stand by your side as the demon slowly suffocated themselves to death.

"Isn't it great!" Asmodeus asked you. You turned to look at him and noticed that his eyes were bright and feverish. "How obedient they are! They all do what I want them to do without question..." Asmodeus trailed off, disdain in his eyes as he watched the demon die in front of him.

"No it isn't!"

Asmodeus blinked. Confusion was clear in his eyes. "Why not?" he questioned. "I didn't have to dirty my hands, you didn't have to dirty your hands, and they all got what they deserved!"

"Death? Was death what they deserved?" You searched his eyes for any signs of remorse but you found none. Asmodeus was one of the gentlest demons you knew... you supposed that the keyword there that you had been ignoring the entire time was 'demon'.

"They hurt you, my dear. They sullied your beautiful form with their ugly selves, of course they deserved death! If I weren't worried about getting blood on my outfit, I'd have them draw it out, too!"

"This is wrong," you muttered to yourself. "This isn't right."

"Wrong? Not right? Honey, you're in the Devildom," Asmodeus cooed. He gently carded his fingers through your hair as he spoke. "Unfortunately, might is right here."

You shiver and curl into yourself. A frown graced Asmodeus' features and he was quick to try and comfort you.

"You'll get used to it soon," he said. "And even if you don't, you shouldn't worry! I won't let it happen again. How could I allow those tear stains on your pretty little face?"

His eyes were glowing eerily.

"Just... introduce all of the people you meet to me, alright? Then you'll never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again♡"

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━₍ᐢ ̥ ̞ ̥ᐢ₎ ━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Beelzebub

cw: you know that thing in the mummy (1999) where the scarab beetles crawl under the person's skin and then eat them from the inside out? yeah.

You had never seen Beelzebub so furious before.

He held you in his arms as the demons before you paled at the sight of the sixth Lord of Hell.

"MC, you're hurt," he said slowly. His grip on you tightened for a brief moment before they loosened, Beelzebub clearly trying his best to control his strength so that you wouldn't get hurt.

There was a strange buzzing sound in the air. You assumed that it was coming from Beelzebub's wings.

"I'll be fine Beel," you try to comfort him. "It's just a flesh wound."

Beelzebub shook his head. "You're not fine," he insisted. "They tried to hurt you. They hurt you."

The buzzing was getting louder now. You touched Beelzebub's cheek and a warm fuzziness made itself known in your chest as Beelzebub leaned into your touch. "I'll be fine," you repeated. "I just need to get to the hospital, or a demon equivalent of it, and then rest up."

"I'll bring you to Satan," Beelzebub said. "But first, you need to see."

"See what, Beel?"

"Punishment," he said solemnly, directing your gaze towards the demons who were busy clawing at themselves. At first you couldn't tell what was going on but you soon managed to discern small little bumps moving around under the demons' skin.

The buzzing sound was louder, now.

One of the demons finally opened their mouth to scream and, to your absolutely disgust and horror, small black beetles crawled out of their mouth. As if it were a signal, insects started crawling out of the other demons' orifices as well, centipedes and ants and little white larvae, wiggling their way out before burrowing themselves into the demon's flesh once again.

The few seconds it took for the insects to eat away the demons felt like a lifetime, your eyes fixed onto the absolutely hellish sight in front of you. When the bones of the demons fell onto the ground, most of the insects scattered but some still dug into the bones, feasting on the bone marrow. You slapped your hand over your mouth, trying your hardest not to throw up while you were still being carried by Beelzebub.

"They hurt you," Beelzebub said. His voice felt so far away. "So I hurt them back."

You squeezed your eyes shut. The buzzing hum of insects did not allow itself to be tuned out.

"So... you have to tell me if people want to hurt you, okay? I'll protect you."

Beelzebub was no longer in his demon form, but the buzzing sound did not go away for a long, long time.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━ᙙᙖ━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Belphegor

cw: just violence i guess

The demon froze in their tracks, eyes staring straight ahead at something you could not see.

"What's wrong?" one of the other demons asked. They didn't seem to hear them as fear dawned on their face and they started backing away.

"Get away from me!" the demon screamed. They tripped over themselves and fell flat onto the floor, but they did not pause in their attempts to scramble away. "Get away from me! No! No! No!!"

"What's going on? Why're you acting like..." Another demon suddenly stared down at their feet for a moment before they started to heave. The last demon had a moment of sanity before they, too, suddenly started looking around them in fear.

"Ahhh! It's on me, it's in me, get it off, get it out!" they screamed, violently scratching at their skin. The first demon had stopped moving back and instead started waving their arms above them, fighting off an unseen assailant while the second demon was attempting to shove their entire hand down their throat. The third demon was scratching at their eyes, uncaring of how blood was now running down their body.

The first demon started clawing at themselves. The second demon slit open their stomach. The third demon clawed out their eyes.

Before you could see any more, a pair of cold hands wrapped around your shoulders, effectively drawing your attention away from the scene in front of you. A tail brushed against your face, blocking your vision entirely as Belphegor snuggled up to you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"MC... Are you okay?" he asked.

"I... I'm fine, but those demons, they—"

"—hurt you, right? That's why they're getting punished right now." You felt his self-satisfied grin against your neck and realized that whatever they were going through right now was the work of the demon behind you.

"Belphie, what did you do?!"

"It's nothing much, really." He was proud of what he did. "I just gave him some nightmares. Or hallucinations, as some people call it."

You opened your mouth, to plead, to beg, you didn't know, but Belphie interrupted you before you could speak.

"Anyway, they're not important. You need to go to Satan, right? He has some healing spells that would be of use..." Belphegor slowly untangled himself from you. "Can you walk on your own? Or do you need my help?"

You didn't want his help but, when you tried to stand up, the pain rendered you immobile. Belphegor caught sight of the wound in your abdomen and flattened his lips. For a moment, you were transported back to the entrance of the attic, Belphegor looking down at you with loathing and rage in his eyes, but the moment quickly vanished and Belphegor reached out to pick you up.

"I'm normally the one being carried but I can make an exception for you," he said in a faux, lighthearted tone.

The demons' screams became louder. More terrified.

"You'll have to make it up to me, though," Belphegor continued, already walking towards the House of Lamentations. "When you recover, I expect lots of cuddles. I won't accept any rejections~"

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━ʕ -ᴥ-ʔ━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

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.

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hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this thing got away from me. well as the tags say i want to do a follow up to this but idk what sort of follow up it'll be. def yandere though. speaking of yandere, watch this space for the next yandere thing that gets churned out, because i like yandere a lot, anyway it's going to be yandere brothers x mc. all of them, at the same time. will mc survive? probably! will they be happy they did? probably not. :) anyway i hope to be able to do more yandere content in the future

edit: SORRY I FORGOT THE CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THE FIRST 3

edit2: inserted one (1) instance of satan calling u kitten for a friend

#obey me #obey me x reader #yandere obey me #anyway i want to write a follow up to this #but what kind of follow up would it be... hm #sorry for the shortness of the last 3... i swear i love them it's just like 4am and i have an early day tomorrow #obey me fanfic #iyumeu writes om #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #sigh tags #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

[harrywritingsbyme]

Keep Up

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I literally started writing like 5 fics trying to find something that sticks😭but im backkkk…and im back with you guys’ favorite coupleeeee🤪this is the 5th installment of Sneaking Around and i hope y’all like it…enjoy🙃

To sum it all up, your sex drive and need for Harry was on fire and a little out of control. You managed to be completely satisfied and unsatisfied all at the same time. While you felt so good after each and every round, you craved something more. You were needing round after round after round of pleasure from Harry. Whether it be from his cock, hands, or mouth, you could honestly care less if it meant that you’d be filled to the brim with the highly addictive pleasure Harry gave you. Your hormones only made it even more impossible to not want and crave more pleasure. They only intensified the already strong need  had him and made the pleasure that much more seismic and addictive. Even though by the end of one round alone Harry had you completely shaking and numb, your mind and body still managed to cry out for more. 

Now Harry thought this constant need of yours was incredibly hot and he absolutely loved having you wrapped around his finger and desperate for any physical touch from him. It was mind blowing to him that after a round of him consistently pounding into you over and over again, you’d still be sipping wet and waiting for more. But while all of that was the case, Harry also recognized that you in fact had him wrapped around your finger as well. While he loved making you beg and do anything he said in order for the mess between your legs to be taken care of, he knew that you also loved knowing that he wouldn’t not take care of you. If you hadn’t done anything warranting a punishment from him, Harry wasn’t going to let you suffer. But the problem with that though, is the fact that Harry was having a bit of a hard time keeping up with you.

See, whenever you two went at it, Harry strived to give you everything he had. He wanted every single time he pushed or licked into you to be the most pleasurable experience you’d ever felt until the next time. Well, more like the next round. Harry took your pleasure seriously, he felt like you deserved 110% all of the time and if it meant blowing his back out in the process of blowing yours out so that the experience could be beyond amazing, then so be it. However, the problem manifests itself after Harry gives the first 110%. Since there was quite an age gap between the two of you, while you were parting your legs or hopping on top of him for more, Harry was asking for at least 15 minuets to recover. Now he did have his moments where it seemed like he was unstoppable, but he also had moments where he needed a bit of an extended break in between. 

But even though this was the case and you absolutely loved him for wanting to put your pleasure at the forefront, you were more than happy to take charge and pleasure the both of you, the same way Harry did because the same way he made sure you were taken care of, you wanted to do the same for him. And while Harry too appreciated that, he couldn’t help but make little jokes about how he was becoming your personal sex toy instead of the other way around. To which you would then remind him of the time when he took you in just about every way possible until he was done with you (which was amazing by the way). You were also more than willing to take control because you found that whenever you took over and pushed you both to your respective releases, Harry would cum a bit harder than he would if the roles were reversed. 

Now at this point in you and Harry’s rendezvous, you were two for two with your releases. In the earlier part of your time together, the two of you were lying together in bed, with you on top and going in the opposite direction of Harry, giving you both the opportunity to completely mouth at each other. Harry had a firm hold on your hips to keep you right on his mouth as he sucked, licked, poked, and prodded at your center. As he did this, you were tugging at and sucking his cock, making sure to not forget about his warm and heavy balls in the process. You and Harry melted into each other as you both received and gave one another pleasure. The way Harry’s mouth engulfed and perfectly moved back and forth against you was indescribable. He knew exactly where to lick and suck and focus his movements, and knowing exactly how much pressure to apply. Harry made you feel so good that it was hard to even keep him in your mouth with the way you were constantly moaning. It just felt so good. It didn’t help that you could hear him going on and on about how good you tasted and even moaning against your pussy. But you weren’t the only enjoying the immense pleasure. Harry too was completely engulfed in the way your mouth and hands sent shockwaves and a feeling of euphoria through his body. He could feel every movement of your tongue and every contraction of your throat around him. Now if there was one thing that would always be his favorite when it came to your mouth on his cock, it’d be how sloppy you were with it. You’d slobber all over his shaft and balls, then take him as far down your throat as possible before gagging around his shaft and getting him even wetter. the same way Harry went on and on about your cunt, you did the same with his cock, going on about how big he was and how much you loved having him fill your mouth. Your moans as well sent shockwaves through his body, only pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And eventually, the two of you were catapulted off together, Harry released spurt after of his thick cum into your mouth as you squirted right against his mouth.  

This was just you guys’ first pair of releases.

The second pair came around no more than 5 minuets ago. After using your mouths, the both of you were ready for more. It was not long before Harry was sinking his still rock hard cock into your soaked cunt. The both of you nearly came on the spot it felt so good. Once he’d fully sank into you, Harry wasted no time picking up the speed of his hips and pounding himself down into you. It felt so good that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out strings of loud moans and cries. Your mind was completely jumbled as you took every last stroke from him. Your moans and his grunts, along with the sound of his cock drilling into your sopping wet cunt along with the sounds of your skin slapping against each others filled the room. As you two continued on, you’d flipped in between different positions. From Harry pinning you down from behind to having your legs practically pinned to your chest as Harry slammed into you over and over again. The two of you only made it through about three or so positions before coming around to you riding Harry and carrying you both through to your second releases.

While Harry was thinking the last round was the final one, you had other ideas. 

“Can we go again daddy?” You ask sweetly, proceeding to bite your lip. 

“I don’t think I can keep up with you.” He pants, not feeling any spurts of energy to get him through another round. 

“You don’t have to lift a finger daddy, just let me do it!” You excitedly instruct him before leaning down to press a quick peck to his lips. 

You then proceed to begin moving yourself up and down on his cock, forming a little rhythm with your movements. You quickly bounced yourself up and down in his lap, taking his cock all the way up into you as deep as possible over and over again. As you continued on, your moans were just as loud as before, and you continued to slur your speech as you went on and on about how full you were and how good you felt. Harry too let out strings of deep moans and grunts below you, enjoying the way you moved your warm and sticky cunt around him. When you started feeling a dull tingling sensation in your feet and legs, you knew that your lower half was almost numb. To push you and Harry to your third and final pair of releases, you started grinding down into his lap. You’d push your front down into his so that you could dig your tingling button into the coarse hairs surrounding his cock. The feeling was absolutely incredible and pushed you closer and closer to your final climax. To push Harry along with you, you start off by reaching back and tugging at his warm balls. When you do this, Harry lets out a loud and desperate moan below you. He was already beyond his normal sensitivity so a couple squeezes from you felt incredible and furthermore pushed him closer to the edge.

What did the trick for the two of you though was when you grabbed both of Harry’s hands and brought them up to your body. You brought one down to your clit, and the other up to your chest to squeeze at one of your bouncing breasts.

“Touch me daddy!” You cry out to him, feeling your release speeding towards you. “M’so close!” You whine, swiftly grinding against his cock and down into his hand. 

“Me too doll!” Harry grunts, bucking up into you ever so slightly.

And in no time, you were squirting uncontrollably against him. Harry began to let go not too long after when he began to feel the warm liquid begin to run down his balls. He watched and listened to you whimper and thrash in his lap from the overstimulation as he completely emptied himself into you, giving everything he had left to give. Once you’ve rode the waves of your release, you collapse onto Harry’s chest, too tired to even hold yourself up anymore. 

“Did you finally wear yourself out sweets?” Harry breathes, bringing his arms around your body and pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“Mhm, felt so good.” You whisper dreamily, reminiscing on the immense pleasure that came from the last three rounds. 

“I bet it did baby.” Harry hums, dragging his hand up and down your back, feeling you slightly clench up around him. “I remember when I was your age and my hormones were crazy too.” Harry chuckles. 

“Yeah, and now you’re an old man. But it’s okay because you’re my old man.” You sigh, pressing a small kiss into his skin.

“M’not old!” Harry softly whines before lightly pinching your side. “You’re gonna get it in the morning.” Harry warns playfully. 

“We’ll see, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up.”

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #my harry writing #best friends dad!h #older!harry #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

[reidyoulikeabook]

15, 17 and 26 all from fluff!!! <3333333333

you asked and you shall RECEIVE my sweet avery! of course you pick out the very best combination of prompts, i'd expect no less <3

Ship: GN! Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: .9k

Warnings: Kissing, general goofiness and cheesiness.

Prompts: #15 "Wow, you're photogenic."

#17 "Quick, kiss me!"

#26 "My lip gloss is all over your lips.”

A/N: I haven’t posted in an AGE and I won’t lie when I say this might not be my best work, but I was feeling writing for once so I tried! I’m going through a pretty rough mental time at the moment and I’m finding it hard to do much, but I wrote this! It’s technically part of the A-Z series, but works as a stand-alone :)

You've both worked up quite the sweat from your, admittedly too enthusiastic, dancing by the time you tumble your way into the photobooth. You'd been meaning to make a stop there all night but between the children (Aaron could probably wallpaper his entire house with pictures of the inside of Jack's nose, pressed right up against the camera), and the far reaching branches of Derek's family tree that yanked him outside for new mantelpiece photos at every opportunity, you just hadn't had the chance. Until now.

Giggling, you pull back the curtain. Almost tripping inside the booth, your interlocked fingers meaning Spencer is yanked in right along with you. He's laughing too. His nose scrunched, glasses comically far up, his face tinged pink with laughter, his hair damp and especially springy against his forehead.

"Sit down!" You chastise.

"Hold on!" He protests, trying to get himself comfortable in his seat. He pulls an odd face, one that involves contorting his mouth into a shape you’re not sure you’ve seen outside of the dentist office, flaring his nostrils, and frowning simultaneously.

And then, amongst the hububub, the camera flashes. Followed by the instant sound of whirring. Spencer frowns, reaching forward, but you lurch. Grabbing the picture and bringing it up to your line of sight, grinning, “Wow, you’re photogenic.”

“Give me that!”

You shake your head, tucking your arm behind your back, “Nope.”

“Please?” He pleads, pushing out his lower lip.

“Nope.”

He braces himself, his legs tensing under you.

He’s up to something.

You bring your right hand back to his chest, steadying yourself, “It’s going to go off again.”

He shakes his head, “The wait between the flashes is actually longer than you’d think because it accommodates for people leaving and getting readjusted in the booth, if it went off that fast there’d be a whole load of film that was just wasted-”

Flash.

His face tenses, startled, and you burst into another peel of laughter. Your thumb tracing along the line of his jaw, “Is that so Doctor Reid?”

“It’s usually longer!” He defends, his voice pitching upwards, “Morgan must have gotten a subpar photobooth.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know about photobooths.”

His eyebrows raise for a brief second, then dip back down to their original position, a conciliatory smile on his face, “I don’t actually know about photobooths. I was just making it up so you’d kiss me.”

“You want a picture of us kissing?”

His teeth worry at his bottom lip, and he takes pause. You take the opportunity to smile brightly at him, your eyes widening as you take in the entirety of his much too adorable, much too appealing, face staring up at you. A mixture of wonder and amazement in his eyes that almost makes you dizzy.

Spencer Reid, wanting photobooth kissing pictures.

“Well then quick, Spencer, you’d better kiss me.”

His face lights up: a smile reserved only for you, instinctively tilting his head up to be closer to you. You squeeze his chin affectionately between your thumb and forefinger, closing the gap between you that was filled only with warm air and quiet desire. His hand comes to the small of your back, on instinct, pressing you against him as his lips brush against yours. Lightly, at first, just testing out the water. Gentle and affectionate, and then harder. Chasing his mouth as he slumps into the seat, pulling you further into his lap.

Flash.

It knocks you off kilter, surprising you. A laugh reverberates through his throat and into your mouth, eliciting a very similar reaction from you. His face is scrunched up with joy as he pulls back, laughing, “That’s kind of a mood killer.”

“There’s a reason you don’t put strobe lights in the bedroom.”

“I think I might have to concede you know more about photobooths than me,” He smiles, his arms looped around your waist, his head pressing into your neck.

“My lip gloss is all over your lips,” You chastise half-heartedly, “I’ll be covered in it.”

He presses a series of delicate kisses along the line of your collarbone, coming to the hollow of your throat. You feel him speak as much as you hear it, “I think it looks good anywhere on you.”

“You would,” You tease, running your fingers lightly through his hair, which has been carefully gelled for the occasion.

He sighs, contentedly. It’s nice, really, to have the time to yourself. Penelope and Derek’s special day has been in the making for a month, and as much as it’s a glorious occasion the lead-up (including the 6am start to the day) has been a whirlwind. It’s nice to take pause.

It’s especially nice to imagine Spencer at your own wedding. He looks gorgeous in a proper suit, even letting you pick out a tie that matched your outfit.

Wonder if he’ll look this beautiful at our wedding.

Don’t be silly. Even more so.

You smile to yourself, tightening your arms around him.

Flash.

Despite the work that went into acquiring the kiss, the photo that ends up on your mantelpiece in a frame is the last one. The biggest smile on Spencer’s face, accompanied by a look of pure peace. His arms securing you to him, and your own looped around to hold him close. The look in your eyes, the softness of the features of your face, as you look at him in that picture? It makes him feel more sure of your love for him than anything in this world. And maybe, just maybe, he gets Penelope to make a copy for his wallet.

Permanent tagslist: @ellesgreenaway @fiftyshadesofspencerreid @holding-on-to-my-youth @ssa-m-187 @reidingmelodies @spencerreidat3am @muffin-cup @reidyourmind @hollydaisy23 @reidassance @hauntedinsomnia @averyhotchner @sunkissglow @reidsacademia @kathrynisadogperson @opheli-yeah @meganskane @idonotexiste @sapphic-prentiss @jhillio @dinonuggets1967 @bingereid @reidscanehand @emilyprsntiss @retrxbarnes @luvofyourlifeliv @sweetandsunny @newtmyheart @shesalatesh @loreenswriting

A-Z tagslist: @ssareidbby @gingertea6460 @thosecriminalminds @disasterwriter @s5spencerreid

If you’re on the old tagslist it would be great if you could fill out THIS google form to be added to the new tagslist! I’m trying to create SOME semblance of order <3

Old tagslist:

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #the a-z of spencer reid

[dr3amofagame]

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

#tw trauma #tw disordered eating #tw torture #tw abuse #tw blood #tw injuries #tw unhealthy coping mechanism #tw emotional distress #tw murder #tw animal death #tw dark content #tw unhealthy eating habits #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !! #-> my asks

[thefanbasewhore]

United as One. || Part 1.

Summary: Din returns home after fulfilling his mission of saving his foundling, after completing it he can now claim his rightful spot as clan leader. There is one problem he needs a wife to secure the future of his clan but his clan is not to happy with his choice and they make that very clear.

Warning/content: None for this part except for blood, wounds and angst but future ones will be 18+, have mature themes, pregnancy and etc. This does contain chapter 16 spoilers!!! No use of y/n. 

Clan leader Din AU. Also not edited because im lazy. 

paring: din djarin/female reader

Part 2. || Master post. 

Din holds the child close, it's a bittersweet moment as Grogu is finally untied with his father. Tears threaten the Mandalorian's eyes, he's thankful of helmet at this very moment. His eyes find her, another reason to get emotional. He realizes just how much she’s grown on him during this journey, and could easily admit he didn’t want to say good bye. She can't help it as her own eyes gloss over as the words are said. Din leans over, cool helmet flushing against the warmth of her  forehead. “Now that the child is safe I must return to my clan.”

"I'm glad we found him Din, I'm glad you can go back home." Din sighs, the leather pad of gloves rubbing the highest point of her cheek, soaking in the feeling of skin. "I wish you could stay."

“It’s my obligation." Din mumbles, metal kisses her ear as he presses his forehead into the her collarbone. He was close, never wanting to let go as he pulls her in as much as the child will allow against his chest. "The clan needs me, I'm to be the new leader."

"I know, someone out there needs you more than I do." It's a whisper only meant for his ears, the rough edges of his visor meets her face, surprised at the words. She can’t see it, the way his bottom lip quivers with emotion, the longing eyes that just want her. Those words mean something to him. 

“Come with me, I can’t be without you.” he admits, he wishes Boba and Fennec weren't close by, he wishes he can tell her to shut her eyes so he can feel the softness of lips, the rush that fills him whenever he kisses her. Pink, soft and plump, the perfect fit for his own.

"Din I'm not -."

Din doesn't allow any excuses, "I love you. I need you."

"You're making this hard." Tears swell immediately, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth with a soft sob, disguising it as a laugh. Din doesn’t move a single muscle, just stares intensely. 

"Please." He begs, the hand against her cheek lowers to her hip fingers pressing in attempt to close the gap between the two.. Grogu's soft fingers touch her collarbones, his own quiet plea. Cheeks rise to form wrinkles under eyes as her smile makes Din's heart rate increase.

"Okay. I'll go." Din let's out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, chest expanding once again, a ghost of a smile. 

"I wish I could kiss you Cyar'ika, I am so thankful for you." Din's heart felt like it was going to explode, the unbearable emptiness of leaving her here was suddenly gone. "You're are my other half. I can't wait to share my home with you."

While the ride was long, Din manages to make it manageable, he tells stories of his clan, talks about the different types of foods, the ceremony that will be held in days time when he arrives. It’s cute.. how passionate he is about his people. It never really hit her before.. Din is to be a leader of his clan and it fits him, a little to perfect. He’s a protector but caring, it’s the perfect blend for one. 

Din's fingers squeeze her own as the ship lands, reinsuring as he senses the nervousness seeing her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Standing tall, stiff and uncomfortable. "It's going to be okay, you look nervous."

"I am nervous." Fidgeting with the hem of tunic says it all, he leans in closer he smell of him is almost enough, but the warmth is what really calms her down. Din's fingers fill the gaps in-between hers, his own little way of saying he's here, there's no reason to be nervous.

The ramp of the ship is slowly opening while her eyes dart over his side profile over and over again; of course it’s just his helmet, but somewhere in those points of basker bring comfort. The moment he does notice, she’s blushing, caught but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

"There's no reason to be, I'll always protect you my love." There it is, the love of the man that got her nto this in the first place. It's a small gesture, a glove hand pressing softly into her cheek, dragging across smooth skin. "I mean it, I'd do anything for you."

Her mouth open to say the same words back but the smell of fresh pine, earthy tones of moisture are distracting, there is absolutely nothing, just trees and dirt that run for miles. The small child is asleep but stirs in the bag that wraps across his neck and down his side. 

"We have to hike there." The Mandalorian throws a pack over his shoulder, hand finding slipping into hers again. "The clan survives by being a secret, no one but us must know the location."

"Not even Boba?"

Din's eyes drag along her face, looking back at herself in the reflection of his helmet. "No, he is not a Mandalorian."

"Either am I." Din steps out in front of her, hands still crossed in each other, extending it until your feet move out from under her.

"You're with me, no one will say anything." He pauses, slight amusement in his voice. "If they know what's good for them."

"Come on." Despite Din controlling the pace it does not meet up to expectations as he pulls her closer and slightly in front of him. "Stay right next to me and we have to move quicker, it gets dangerous around here at night time."

Dark was near, hanging right over the horizon as the planet’s sun begins to set lower, it was quieter then when she first arrived, the small animals and bugs of the forest seemed to also agree with Din.

The big fill moon on display provides just the amount of light needed to maneuver the thick brush and trees. It’s peaceful, beautiful, the forest is different hues of greens, pinks and blues from growing flowers make the trip just a little more bearable. 

 It’s serenity, peaceful and ebbing so gently throughout the darkness. Din’s hand never leaves her own except when he drapes his cape over shuddering shoulders, or to check on the child, the darkness brought a chill with it. 

It’s happens in an instant, suddenly all of her breath is knocked out of as Din pushes her with a shout, “Get down!” Protective hands press accidently press her face against the foliage of the forest, the heavy body shielding her own from harm.

Large sharp spikes take wing above them. Both of their hearts thump at the crunching of leaves in the distance with the snapping branches falling all around when a loud unhuman sound fills the air, a growl so close she couldn’t decide if the hot air was it was coming from under Din’s helmet or snapping of jaws in front of her face. It’s covered in fur black red eyes peering as it’s long claws reached for both of her but Din is quicker, his fingers grasp her hips, yanking up and pushing her back as he secures the bag against his chest. “Run!” 

The sounds of chanting could be heard, a group large in numbers just ahead in the tree line, a large bright light that an only resemble a large fire burning, the smell makes her nose twitch, it’s so close but very very far for the predicament the pair find themselves in. 

She couldn’t breath, air ways blocked by paralyzing fear that swirls deep inside of her stomach sending her whole body into a frenzy. Feet ran with a blur, not being make out anything due to how fast she were going, the pitch dark didn’t help either, but Din was were to guide her, with one slip up he was pushing her into the right direction.  Alarms and bells began to sing, loud drums as chaos broke out, yelling and the sound of blasters as she finally hit the tree line. Din’s finger press into her shoulder to finally stop her from running, the beast did not dare past the tree line.

Only because of what in habited it. Loud wheezing falls from burning lungs, long, shallow breaths as she lean one hand against the ground for support. It was obvious her body was still in flight mode when hands try to touch her face only to be pushed away with brutal force. 

“It’s me, it’s just me. Breath with me.” The Mandalorian’s face is in front of her own, pressing his hand against the swells of her chest to remind her to breath. As her body starts to calm, it feels hot. The sound of crackling and popping as scarlet flames dance right in behind her, Din doesn’t like the close proximity as he stands between her and the warmth. 

“Come over here, you’re too close to the fire.” As she starts to take in the rest of the environment she can’t help but notice the faces around them, well some were faces the rest were similar to Din, the helmets weren’t as seek, silver as him but a variety of different shaped eyes, symbols and lines. Now she understood why the creature didn’t dare cross the forest lines. There was a small amount of commotion, some eyes question her but the majority seek out Din.

“The Mand’lor has returned.” Din nods in acknowledgment, hands pulling his girl from the ground. Din’s fingers swipe her hair from her forehead as he sees the look of disapproval on the few bare faces. 

“Listen to me.” He pleads, watching as a smaller woman, elder woman slowly ascends towards them. “Anyone can challenge rank in the clan, you must fight if need be.”

“Wh-What?” Wide eyes meet his visor, stomach twisting as Din’s words stun her. It was too late, the elder’s staff is pressing against her throat harshly. “Who is this woman you’ve brought us?”

The growl that Din lets out is enough to scare that monster in the woods, it’s protective, frustrated but expected, how did he ever think his people would accept a outsider? especially a non-mandalorian one. The elder sneers at her, different symbols of no legitimacy are painted against her forehead, black charcoal lines that reach to her lips. “Let her go. She’s with me.”

The elder’s eyes shift towards Din. While Din may be the leader of the clan, the elders are responsible for making sure the rules are followed, guidance for such a leader. The pressure releases from her throat but the venom in her tone says it all. “She doesn’t belong here.”

If a staff to the point of almost unconsciousness doesn’t say you’re not welcomed here the words make her cheeks red with embarrassment. Din’s fingers find her shoulder quickly, pulling her against his chest protectively. Eyes turn in disgust as they realize, the way he flushes her against him, his willingness to protect her. It’s wrong, so very wrong to the clan but Din doesn’t care. All eyes are on him as he steps in front of her, the child now awake is shoved against her chest, Din’s fists ball against his sides, he’s strong, sturdy like a wall as the crowd meets his own gaze. “She is under my protection, if anyone wants a challenge, they go through me first.” 

Just like the the tension leaves the air, no one dares to step forward as the cold, icy gaze of the visor warns them, then to the elder that stands a few feet from him. “Is that understood?”

Watching all these people cower at his words makes her throat dry, Din Djarin was passionate, a little rough around the edges but never this scary. Shaky finger rub against her throbbing throat as another wheeze leaves her burning throat. Without a second glance Din is dragging her along the field, the peaks of houses just over the land. 

“Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, only presses herself into his hold as they near one of the biggest huts in the field. 

“Where are we?” It’s cold, but clean. Neatly organized books against the walls, a fireplace with two comfy leather chairs, the kitchen is small, almost right next to the living room but it is cozy. Din manages to find some matches to light the room up, “My home.”

The child fights against her grasp as she sits down on the brown chair, large dark eyes meeting her own as he lets out a whine of frustration. . It doesn’t register, everything happening to quickly doesn’t give her time to even breath as she looks up at the Mandalorian.  When Grogu is finally free, he manages to find the other chair, curling up comfortably in it “What just happened?”

Din tries to speak but she decides for him. “They don’t want me here, why did you bring me here?”

Din shakes his head, falling between her thighs, hands press against them with intent to comfort but it makes her more frustrated. “They’re not used to strangers, and you’re not Mandalorian, it caught them by surprise.”

“Din I saw the way they looked at me, that old lady almost murdered me. “Did you know it was going to be like this?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, bringing his helmet forward to her shoulder. “Yes but no one will challenge you for now, not until you’re part of the clan.”

“No one wants me here.” Tears of frustration slip past eyelashes, rejection sitting deep inside the pit of her stomach.

“Sweet girl.” Din’s covers her eyes with his palm using the other to pull the helmet off placing it next to him. “Close your eyes.”

Even if she wanted to she couldn’t open them, they’re too heavy with emotion as Din presses his fingers against tears, wiping them gently. “No tears, for the love of maker, no tears.”

“I-I’m -” Din doesn’t let her finish, instead he uses his lips to taste the salty mixture that formulated from her pain, lips meet hers gently. 

“They will love you, they haven’t seen a stranger since I left two years ago, give it time.” Din promises, hands wrap around just below her breast, pulling her against his chest. “The clan is sacred, they just see -.”

“An outsider.” The sourness of the words taste strange in her mouth, “Why did you bring me here then?”

“I love you.” It’s the first time those words move past those lips, “I can’t be without you.”

It’s hours later when Din returns to the tent, while many hours have past she was still asleep. The bed was comfortable, stuffed with feathers, covered in layers and layers of animal pelts. Soft fur smooth against skin, perfect for the chilly night.

The child notices, instantly perking up to extend his arms out to his father. The foundling coos as Din’s hands hold him close to his chest, “Hey buddy, are you hungry?”

The next few days are almost enough to make her regret coming with Din, she’s alone half the time, Din leaves her for what he called ‘very important business, and snarled at when she leaves the hut. Never in her life has she felt so.. unwelcomed, out of place. She has never been a person to care about things like these, but the child was soon becoming her only source of social interaction and everyone knows how well that is. 

“What are you doing out here?” Din’s voice startles her, the child in her arms jumps as she does. 

Eyes shift in confusion at the Mandalorian, the raspiness of his voice, hands bare but open cuts painted across them, dried blood show signs of a struggle as she tits her head. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about sweet girl.” The hand finds the crown of her head, rubbing the hair softly, then to the child’s head before disappearing silently into the hut, while it was very Din the tone of his voice was very uncharacteristic. 

“Din?” It’s much later in the night, so late that they should both be fast asleep like the child tucked between them. Din’s helmet reflects the dying fire across the room, despite the inches of distance between them it felt like miles. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He sighs, turning onto his side so he can look at her. He was stripped down to a thinner tunic, comfortable pants rid of all amour except his helmet, the fire was still alive. “It’s just -.”

He cuts himself off, bringing his hands forward to her hips fingers dig into the flesh to pull her close against him. “What is it?”

“The elders.. they don’t like that I brought you here.”

“i know that.”

Din turns his back towards the fire, the broadness of him dimming the room almost instantly. The helmet falls to the floor with a thud, lips meet the junction between her clavicle and sternum, nose pressing against her skin. “I want you to stay here with me.”

“I don’t feel welcomed here, no one even knowledge me.”

“Marry me.” The words make her choke, body momentarily freezing as fingers release his hair. Din freezes as well, not believing the words fell from his lips so easily.

“If you marry me, they will have no choice but to accept you. You will be my queen.” A pregnant pause falls amongst them, Din doesn’t dare move from his spot but pushes further. “They will make me take a wife anyways, I want it to be you.”

Emotion is heavy in her throat, “It feels forced, you’re only doing this for me. For you can have me.”

“I’m doing this because I love you, I want you to stay with me. The elders have no control over what I’m saying to you. I want you to marry me because I love you.” The words aren’t forced, they’re spoken with carefulness but freely mumbled against her chest.

“Marry me, I’ve always known you’d be my riduur from the moment I met you.”

A/N: I swear its going to get much better, first chapters are always so slow. Thank you for reading, I’m accepting tags just comment below, thank you!

#din djarin fan fiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandolorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader

[wistfulwatcher]

Hello I saw your tag on that "im 25 and dying post" please tell us how it got better for you. Im 26, still living with parents, currently having a fight with my boyfriend, and i still have a year until I get my bachelors. The comparison to everyone younger than me is killing me.

I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling, but I hope you can take some solace in the fact that that post has a lot of notes and you are absolutely not alone in feeling the way you do! I can certainly try and share my experience, but unfortunately I think the biggest factor is just time (and like, a buttload of self-reflection).

I moved back home after college and worked full time at an administrative job I was doing during school breaks. I majored in psychology and anthropology in college, and was planning to eventually go into forensic psychology, but wasn't interested in going straight into grad school. So I did that administrative job for about a year, and tried to find something that was a bit more stable and at least semi-related to my field. I did end up finding a new job when I was 23 - stable, semi-related to my field (a psych/research background was required), and decent pay (especially as I was still living at home). Exactly what I needed, since I still wasn't ready to start looking into grad school.

I was doing pretty well, until I started getting comfortable at that job, and then I started getting hit with the "I'm not doing enough," and "I need to look into grad school," and "will I ever find a boyfriend?" (friendly reminder that 23-year-old me thought she was straight, yikes), "how will I afford to move out, I have to save my money and do it soon!", "I'm not doing anything but watching TV, I'm wasting my life," "I'm lonely, but I'm too tired to try and make friends," etc., etc.

But it wasn't constant. I'd have a flurry of those questions and fears, and then days where I was just living life and doing my job and taking care of my dogs, without any of that. And I don't think I felt good or particularly comfortable those days, it was more like I just wasn't actively thinking about it, like when you feel "good" after a physical pain goes away and you're just normal.

Eventually, I started thinking about all of these concerns I had, and the fact that it felt like it was URGENT whenever I thought about them. It felt like I needed to get my shit together immediately. I also started to acknowledge that there was this big sense of guilt around those concerns; I was too old to be living at home, I was too old to be single, I was too old not to be starting a career. I felt like I was wasting my life (cue the guilt), and I realized that part of why I felt like I was wasting it was that I felt like I was missing milestones I wouldn't be able to do at a later time because the older I was past "normal" the more humiliating it would be to try (cue the shame and embarrassment, hard).

I also started to doubt that I wanted to go into forensic psychology. More importantly, I started to seriously doubt that I wanted a "career" at all. My job (as I kept that same semi-related to my field one) was absolutely a job, not a career. And I think this was a huge tipping point for me, because a career had always been a given in my life. I'm passionate about what I'm interested in, so it literally just never occurred to me that I would be content with a job. I also started acknowledging that I had some messed up associations about being content with a job meaning that I was lazy (because the only way to be ambitious is with a career and, more damaging, a lack of ambition is fundamentally bad).

Now, I need to clarify that all of the above occurred over the course of years. I was constantly seeing "friends" (i.e., of the facebook variety) go to grad school, start careers, get married, buy homes, etc. And with all of that alongside the entire mess I've outlined in the above paragraphs, it was really, really, tough. It gets hard to find a foothold in better thinking, I believe, when seeing all of these people (some younger) doing things "right" was really just compounding my guilt and shame. (I feel like it's worth mentioning, too, that I was always "an individual" growing up, march-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drummer, yada yada. I feel like that's worth pointing out for others who may be in the same boat, because I think it can lead to another layer of shame in comparing yourself to those around you - especially if it's a big part of your identity that you DON'T do that, because I think it's inevitable as you get older, and you're looking to reach these milestones that prove you're an adult.)

So, here I am, acknowledging that I feel guilt and shame about what I'm not doing. And suddenly I ask myself my first really important question: Do I want a career? The question hot on its heels is: Do I want to go to grad school? Honestly, my answer is no. There is nothing in me that's excited by the prospect. But what, does that mean I'm just going to work my job for the rest of my life? How is giving up going to make me feel better about Not Doing Enough?

As I'm opening this door (remember, years), three things happen: 1) I realize I'm gay, 2) I watch Dirty 30, 3) I start playing D&D.

First, realizing I'm gay. Woohoo! Not only was this exciting because girls are amazing, but it made me seriously look at myself. Realizing I had spent 25 years assuming one thing about myself that turned out to be completely wrong made me question everything for a while. I started to ask myself, "Do I really like this?" more often, which seems like a really obvious question, but I'm not convinced that it's one people ask themselves consciously all that often. But once I did, I realized how freeing it was to answer, "No," and move on to something I did like.

Second, I watched Dirty 30, the Grace Helbig/Mamrie Hart/Hannah Hart movie. It feels dramatic to say that it changed my life, but the older I get the more I honestly think it did. Mamrie Hart's character is a dental hygienist who is freaking out about turning 30 and feeling very much like that text post I reblogged. But (spoilers), at the end of the movie, she decides that she loves her job (job, not career!) because it's comfortable and she has fun at work, and that it makes her happy. She has other things going on, but the idea that a character in a film is content with her job and choosing to "settle" into her life as-is and she's genuinely happy about it? I honestly can't think of a single other time I've seen that happen on-screen. I still think about that ending very often. And after seeing it, I started to ask myself another question regularly: "Am I happy?" Again, this feels pretty obvious, but I think there is something incredibly empowering about making sure you are happy on a regular basis, instead of just assuming that you're fine until something hurts.

Third, I started playing D&D. This is not a plug for D&D! (Well, maybe a little.) One thing that happened to me when I started to get into the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion mess of my mid-20s was that I got very much into a routine of go to work, come home, sleep, go to work, come home, sleep, be totally brain-dead on the weekend, repeat. I found it very difficult to feel creative because I was just wiped, and as all of my creative outlets (gifs, fanfic) are self-motivated, it was really easy to brush them off. I ended up starting Critical Role (this is also not a plug for CR! well, maybe), and I wanted to give D&D a try myself. (I was VERY lucky - my best friend happened to be listening to the Adventure Zone at the same time I started CR, and she wanted to try to run a game. The stars truly aligned!)

I started playing, then DMing, and found that it was a great fit for my interests. I used to be a theatre kid, and I was getting to act again (something I didn't realize I was missing). I was getting to build and flesh out characters, which is what I love the most about writing fanfic. I was also discovering that I was stretching myself - world building and plot had never been my strong suit, but as a DM it became the majority of my creative effort. It gave me soft deadlines with people I didn't want to let down, and it made me truly social again for the first time since college. Essentially, it was filling in all of the gaps of what I felt lacking in my life. This isn't a D&D plug because it wasn't D&D specifically, but rather a hobby that satisfied what was missing in my life. For example, I didn't realize how isolated I was before D&D until I had regular interactions with friends, and that isolation absolutely made the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion worse.

D&D gave me that final push to realize that I was OK with having a job and being passionate about hobbies instead of trying to fit myself into a career, because I was getting out of that hobby what I had been convinced I would get out of a career. I started to really value that I could punch out and go have fun doing exactly what I wanted to do. (It feels so obvious as I type this, but it took me a long time to get here! Sometimes it really is that simple!)

The above is specific to my job vs. career struggle which may not be in the mix of things you're struggling with. But what I do think is universal/can be your take away, is that sometimes you just have to actively choose to let go of the pressure to be doing things. Which, I know, sounds so much easier than it is (and part of why I think it just takes time/is part of growing older). But I think it's something that can be worked at over time, by checking in with yourself about what you feel, why you feel it, and what you need to make yourself feel better in the present.

It's been 6 years since I started that semi-related job, and I'm still there. I still live with my mom. I'm still single. My circumstances have not changed since 24, but honestly? I'm OK. When I check in with myself about it, I do enjoy living with my mom and our dogs (even though I'm 30 and "real" adults move out). I am happy more often than I'm not (much more, actually!). I have a job that allows me to be done after 8 hours, and I have hobbies I look forward to doing each night (and the energy to do them, most of the time). My weekends are free to play D&D with my friends and laugh until I cry. That is what I've worked out as my definition of what I want life to be right now. You'll notice it includes none of the "milestones" that those younger than me have hit.

As I noted on that text post tag, I still struggle with this. I definitely have days where I think, I'm a mess, I'm not DOING anything. It's hard. But time does help, those days become fewer and farther between.

I know that was probably a hundred times longer than you wanted it to be, but I did want to illustrate just how much of a process it is. It takes time. My summary advice is to check in with yourself often, be honest about what you want and what you need, do not let anyone else define where you "should" be. And if you aren't living life how you want to be, identify what you can do (however small) to make yourself feel like you're getting closer.

#ask #me #personal #i am so sorry this is a novel #i hope that it helps you even a little! #can you believe i can write about myself for 2 hours? embarrassing lmao #long post

[calpops]

family | c.h.

A plan for dinner in which your parents are to meet Calum for the first time doesn’t go as expected but it shows you who your true family is. 

1.3k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

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You stand with a heavy heart, patience running thin and hope shattering on the kitchen floor where you had prepared a dinner you hoped to share with Calum and your parents. Calum is beside you, his arm around your waist and understanding in his eyes. He knew of your rocky relationship with your parents and the troubles it could arise but he had yet to meet them. Tonight is supposed to be that night. You shift, head shaking and eyes burning.

“Are you sure you told them the right time?” Calum asks, trying to stay optimistic so you don’t crumble any further. His hand squeezes your waist to remind you he’s there even if they aren’t.

“I think so,” you say around a tight sigh and fish into your pocket for your phone. “I called them last night. They sounded like they wanted to come. They promised.”

Your parents aren’t prone to making promises and just the word was enough to elicit false hope into you. No messages light up your screen as you glance down at your phone.

“Maybe... your parents don’t like me?” Calum questions and tries to make it a joke, tries to make his tone light and take the burden off your shoulders.

“They don’t even know you,” you reply, suddenly resigned and defeated. You know waiting for them will be excruciating. Standing around in the kitchen with the cooling food as a reminder of their tardiness isn’t going to help. You busy yourself with wrapping the dishes to put in the fridge.

“What are you doing?” Calum’s voice comes from behind you as you slide a salad in.

“It’s gonna get gross if it stays out much longer. I’ll just put it away while we wait.”

Your tone verges on desperation and Calum senses it immediately. He sees the shine of your eyes and the way your hands clench around the handle of the fridge.

“We can wait,” Calum reassures, lightly rubs the small of your back to calm you down and helps put away the rest with you before heading to the living room couch.

Duke joins you, curls up on your lap as a comfort mechanism—able to sense your distress and sadness without even understanding why—Calum sits beside you, tries at small talk while time ticks by. It’s an hour past the time they said they’d be here. Your hope is all but decimated when you check your phone one last time and come up empty. You feel as if you shouldn’t be surprised. This is nothing new; they missed birthdays and graduations and everything in between, but for some reason—perhaps a reason that shines with diamonds, an opal and your entire future—you thought it might be different this time.

“They’re not coming,” you realize just seconds before a call lights up your phone and hope comes back to taunt you. You answer with a timid greeting. Crack out an ‘okay’ when the hope goes back to shards and hang up the phone with tears on your cheeks. “They’re not. They said they have some stuff at home. Some-something about a…”

You can’t even finish their lame excuse before a sob slips through and you hide your face in your hands. Calum’s arms wind around you without hesitation, he pulls you into his chest, hands falling from your face in favor of hiding against him. His hands stroke through your hair, down your back, up and down again and again until another sob breaks and you start to shake.

“Sweetheart,” he says and it’s more than you could have thought to say if the roles were reversed. His voice is soft and sincere when he continues. “I’ve got you.”

You know what he means when he says that. Your parents aren’t here for you, they never really have been, but he is and the ring on your finger is a promise that he always will be. You try to collect yourself and stop a sob in its attempt to escape you. Instead a hiccup comes out and you hear Calum’s little huff of a giggle; he’s always said your hiccups are adorable.

“I feel stupid,” you admit and wonder if Calum can even understand you through the muffle and shake of your voice. He does. He always does.

“It’s not your fault,” he reminds but you shake your head.

“I should know better by now. They do this all the time,” you begin, finally finding some voice for the aching thoughts plaguing you. You still won’t pull away from him, too content to bask in his comfort, unsure you can look him in the eye when tears still slide from yours. “They don’t even want to meet the man I’m going to marry before I marry him. They probably won’t come to the engagement party. It’d be a miracle if they show up to the wedding. They just don’t care. Family isn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Family is complicated,” Calum says but you don’t want any attempts at justifications, whether either of you believe them or not. You just want a family that cares.

“I should be used to it by now—I just don’t have a family, not really.”

“You do,”‘ Calum insists and doesn’t let you hide anymore, his hands cup your jaw and gently coax you to look at him. “You have me and my parents and Mali and the guys and all of our friends. We are here for you. We love you.”

You nod, unable to find words to express the thoughts now finding you. He’s right. He has been there for you since the day you met. His parents took to you the moment you were introduced to them and Mali even before that, she texted you and called you well before an in person meeting. The guys welcomed you with open arms and thanked you for making Calum happy. They are his family and made you a part of it. The friends you made in adulthood had become like siblings. You might be missing some pieces but there are other people to fill in the gaps and make you feel whole.

“I love you,” you finally manage to get out, wipe your eyes and sniffle.

“And someday”—Calum says, thumb brushing away tears you missed—“we’ll have a family of our own.”

You let out a breath, a smile trudging through the sadness at his words that kick up ripples of warmth from the inside out. You nod, this time with happiness and a yearning for that future. For that family.

“We will,” you say, sure about that. “I’ll never be like my parents.”

“I know,” Calum responds with just as much certainty and a smirk growing on his face. “How many kids do you want?”

You tilt your head to the side. “At least two. So they can always have a friend.”

Calum laughs and nods in agreement. “Two is good. D’you have any names picked out yet?”

You bite your lip and dart your eyes up to the ceiling. The way he knows that you do and is waiting to hear them makes you know the ring on your finger and all of the promises it comes with are meant to be. Your lip springs free and you grin.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit but want to keep them secret until the time is right.

Calum talks to you about the future. You both get lost in a world yet to come. Make plans that won’t happen for years to come but you would bet with your whole heart and soul will happen eventually. Calum wouldn’t lie to you. Calum wouldn’t string you along and break your heart. He’s your family now.

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If you’d like to be added to my tag list just let me know!

Based on the dates with cal engagement prompt: your family doesn’t like me? And @outerspaceisbetterthannothing message of: They plan on finally meeting her parents. She’s very nervous and the very last moment her parents ditch them, saying they won’t be able to come because of some shit and that it’s not so important anyway, they’re sure Cal is a nice guy and they’ll meet him at the wedding. And she’s really upset and Cal tries to reassure her when he sees her tears, saying he is her family now and she has his parents and his sister and all of the boys. That’s her family, she’s not alone.

Tagged: @rosecolouredash​ @irwinkitten​ @golden-hood @who-do-you-love-5sos​ @caswinchester2000​ @wildflowergrae​ @empathycth​ @cuddlemecalx @malumsmermaid​ @babylon-corgis​ @outerspaceisbetterthannothing​ @mariellelovescupcakes​ @xhaileyreneex​ @goth5sos​ @gosh-im-short​ @feliznavidaddycal​ @loveroflrh​ @findingliam-o​ @flowerthug​ @g-l-pierce​ @talkfastromance4​ @superbloomirwin​ @wastedheartcth​ @calumscalm​ @notinthesameguey​ @lukesfuckingbeard​ @myloverboyash​ @treatallwithkindness​ @haikucal​ @wiildflower-xxx​ @calum-uncrowned @egyptiangoldhood​ @drarryetcetera​ @another-lonely-heart​ @megz1985​ @idk-harry​ @dinosaursandsocks​ @wildflower-cth​ @idontneedanyone​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @myfavfanficsever​ @stormrider505​ @karajaynetoday​ @333-xx​ @calumshpod​ @calumsphile​ @calumrose​ @justhereforcalum​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @calumance​ @mantlereid @hemmingslftv​ 

#Calum hood blurb #Calum hood imagine #Calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5sos x you #5sos x reader #Calum hood angst #5sos angst #cal!dates #cal!engagement

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #john deacon fanfiction