#the way she did all this shit to him and yet he still yearns to hear her voice

[bardic-inspo]

Dhampir Dreams

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Generic/Unnamed)

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Key Tags: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, body worship, light dom/sub, light bondage, light praise kink, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dacryphilia, cunnilingus, PIV, Astarion’s past trauma, smut with so many feelings but nearly no plot, character introspection

Summary:

Tav saw beauty in Astarion he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like. Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her. Or: an angsty-turned-horny character study about the pale elf and his thoughts on creating new (un)life.

A/N: This is my first stab at writing a more generic Tav. Tav in this piece is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Most other identifying features are left out.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Astarion’s never thought much about making another vampire.

In the rare moments the notion occurred to him, he shoved it to the far back shelf of his mind so as not to waste himself on an exercise in futility. What did it matter, after all, while Cazador still lorded over him?

More than anything, Astarion yearned to see Cazador’s blood spill. In his mind’s eye, he’d watch it pool across the floor, not unlike the way he'd seen so much clothing puddled at so many heels. The lake he’d make of his master would be wide enough to swallow the garments of all who’d stripped bare before Astarion. Every sweat-soaked night he found himself bound to another moldering mattress beneath someone else’s weight, rocking through the motions that left his stomach sour, he’d fill his mind with such sweet dreams as Cazador’s death.

Whether Cazador would allow Astarion to drink his blood before being relieved of it varied with the fantasy. The dream changed as often as the hands on Astarion’s hips. It mattered little to him whether Cazador’s end came with true vampirism or not. As long as he ended. 

As long as the vile river of shit that comprised Astarion’s life ended, one way or another. For better. Or for good.

Of course, he flirted with the fantasy of his own spawn, sent out like skittering spiders to dispense his will. Foul little monsters they would be. Fine tools to have in his arsenal; Astarion would only want such wretches of his own the way one might want a hammer to pound a nail. And what he wanted didn’t hold any weight while bound in Cazador’s chains.

So the idea recoiled into the dusty recesses of his mind, collecting cobwebs kitty-corner to such out of reach trophies as freedom from his servitude to Cazador and the sun itself. Both still gleamed, despite the tarnish of time and hope rusted over. Despite Astarion’s prayers, no heroes came to save him. No gods or slayers or saviors spared him from his servitude. 

Until the illithids did.

Despite everything -- the centuries of torment, the hollow where his heart should be, its silence in his ribcage, the scars on his back, the thousands of other lashes that Cazador let fade from his porcelain skin -- Astarion did the one thing Cazador could never.

He stood in the sun. And on the sands of that same beach, another miracle washed ashore. A contradiction. His counterweight to everything else he’d ever known.

Tav.

Astarion’s hands roam the supple shape of her nestled against his bare chest. Her breath crests and falls soft and rhythmic, like the gentle slap of waves against the cliffs where they first found each other. His darling is always so serene in her sleep. Astarion dips his head down, nosing her splayed hair on the pillow, drinking in the lovely scent of lavender that always lingers with his lover.

Often, he wakes before her, as he does now in the dim blue light of dusk. Not yet dark enough for him to step outside, but for the moment, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be. Not even in the raw, rippling light of day.

The smell of her has his eyelids heavy again, the steady patter of her heartbeat hypnotic in his head. His hands curve over the flare of her hips before slipping beneath the hem of her tunic. He stifles the satisfied hum that bubbles in the back of his throat as his palm smooths down the lithe stretch of her stomach. He resettles with his nose in the crook of her neck, eyelashes grazing the twin puncture scars that mark her as his.

He’d thought, once, that he’d ascend and have her at his side for an eternity. He was scared. Frantic. Grasping. He thought he had to grasp at something, fashion some sort of tether, to have her. Thought he had to have power, and enough of it, to keep her. Now he holds her every morning in the bed they share, until day becomes night again. It’s as effortless as blinking.

Now, the thought of turning Tav into a vampire turns his stomach.

His lips brush, tender, to the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He loves those marks he gave her. He loves the way her fingertips tap against them when she’s lost in thought. He loves the way she arches into his arms as he feeds, the way her body gives and gives to him alone. That sleepy, slap-happy smile she has when he’s lapped his last for the evening. The way her eyes roll back, and she gasps, breathless, as he kisses a trail from her neck to a nipple and sucks fervently.

He loves that he’s marked her, but that it didn’t change her. He can still curl into the heat of her skin at night. Still watch her preen in a mirror. Still stare at those gorgeous eyes and know the shade of them is hers. Her cheeks still turn the shade of sunrise when he leans in with a lustful whisper, or grazes her waist with a feather-light touch.

Absently, his fingers follow the path of an old scar on her stomach. At its end, he finds the start of softness. Astarion loves that, too. She didn’t used to be soft there, when they were just surviving. They’re not just surviving anymore.

Perhaps he’s changed her after all. It’s not so scary anymore to admit she’s turned him, too. Not to the light, or anything so nauseatingly righteous. But rather, so Astarion could see himself in it. Even if his days of standing in the sun are done.

I’ll be your mirror, she vowed, what feels like another lifetime ago. She smiled in that fond way of hers that, at the time, hurt to look at too long. He scoffed at her poetic ruminations on his hair curling near his ears. The creases when he laughs. 

Tav saw beauty in him he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like.

Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her.

He’s thought of Tav as a mother before. It flitted through his mind when Astarion watched her ease Arabella’s pounding heart with the gentleness of her own. That feeling lingered when Yenna joined their camp, and Astarion caught Tav teaching her cards. Combing the snarls from the girl’s hair. Coaching her in the basics of swordplay.

She’d be a wonderful mother. Astarion has no doubts in that regard. And he, well…

He doesn’t have an example to look back on, or one to look up to. But he has his compass. Tav’s heart beats, sure and steady, in his ear. That sound’s guided him through so much else. How could he lose his way for long, if there were two pitter-patters to listen to? 

His palm paints cool over that blooming softness in her stomach. An ache burns in his own. The sort of hunger her blood won’t sate. Would she taste even sweeter, he wonders, with her body rounded and swollen? 

Of course she would. So hard to improve something so perfect already. But she’d be radiant, if she were ripe with their child.

And after, when their babe is born, and her body is new all over again, he'd love every line, every fold, every mark that came from their coupling. He’d worship every part of her that was remade by the two of them to make the three of them. Marvel at the way the same body that first truly fed him would feed their child, too. 

He’d help her find her way back to pleasure in her own way, in her own time. Just as she did for him. His Tav gives, and gives, and he’d give her anything, everything, for the rest of his days, if a wretch like him would be so stupidly blessed to be the father of her child.

Astarion pulls a breath between his teeth, his nose flooding with her floral scent again. That would change, too. She’d carry new notes in her sweat, in her slick, in her blood, while carrying their babe. Astarion wants to taste them all, to learn what songs she can sing while he does.

Instinctually, he presses to the plump of her ass to soothe the building stiffness in his cock. He plants a muted hum in the fabric of the pillow. His groin throbs to the thump-thump of his compass, beating oblivious beneath her ribs.

He pictures pouring into her, night after night, his spend spilling in little translucent rivers down her slicked thighs, overflowing from her cunt. Too much for her to hold in, but she’d take him as long as it takes until life sparks inside of her. Tav’s determined in all her undertakings. Resilient. 

And in his dreams, she’s pliant. Pleading. 

“Star, please.”

She’s trembling in that slinky, translucent nightgown she wears to bed sometimes. The one that hardly hides her skin, but cloaks it in a delectable, silvery sheen. He likes it too much to ruin it. Or at least, he has every other night. 

Oh, he’d like to ruin it, now.

Tav’s pupils are blown black with want. Sweat shimmers on her skin, spurring his tongue to swipe his own lips. Her shoulder peeks bare from her nightgown, and Astarion can see her pebbled nipples, dark beneath the sheer silk that separates them. Hardened with hardly a touch. A feeling he’s intimately familiar with. His cock twitches as he strokes the back of his hand over the soft swell of her breast. 

“Aren’t you sore, sweet thing?” He tries for tender, but it comes out coarse. Rough like the way he wants to grip her hips.

“So be gentle,” she says with a sultry smile, lips peeled apart and glistening just enough that Astarion can’t peel his eyes away. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”

Astarion slinks forward, crowding her against the edge of the bed. Careful, like cradling glass, his palm reaches out to cup the side of her cheek. She sighs into the touch, the curve of her smile reaching the heel of his hand.

“Always,” he says reverently, before his voice sinks to a growl. “You’re always so, so eager…for me.”

Her lashes flutter low over hungry eyes. All it takes is one little wordless bob of her head for Astarion’s own hunger to have the best of him. With a lazy roll of his wrists, he shoves her back with kind but firm force. The mattress bends with her impact, her breathless laughter nearly lost beneath the whine of the wooden frame. Astarion crawls after her, hands fisting in her nightgown, and pulling her free of it.

And then, she’s bare beneath him. Writhing from his tongue and teeth. Gasping out the best words he’s ever heard. Astarion downs them like a man starved, kissing her with the kind of fervor he thought reserved for bloodlust. But her lips, the promises they pour, are sustenance all on their own.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, “all yours. Always. All of me.”

Astarion can’t stifle the whine that drags from some hollow in his chest he never knew about before.

The bed creaks as he hitches one of Tav’s limber legs up over his shoulder and nips a path of sharp kisses from her ankle to the crux of her thigh. He pauses, sweeping a feverish gaze over the spread of her: legs parted in his grip, that perfect slit, already wet with want, the rest of her sprawled naked across the bed, at his mercy, at his desire, at her own. 

He leans down, tongue dipping leisurely through her cunt. Always, she swore. So there’s no hurry in how he takes apart the woman he loves so dearly, in one of her favorite ways to be unmade. No matter how many times she claws the sheets and hisses, “Please, Star. F-fuck, I need you inside of me.”

It turns something in the depths of him to hear his own name said as a prayer. It makes him want with a force and harshness stronger than any thirst he’s felt for blood. He wants to turn her. Change her. Forever, for good. For the life they could make from their bodies, bound as close as souls could be. He wants to see her swell with the love they make, with all the love he’ll leave inside her.

She’s so close, her legs quaking violently when her hand tangles his hair and yanks his head upright. She’s beautiful, flushed ruby red, taking her air in shallow doses. Her eyes burn with equal measures adoration and reproach.

Astarion smirks, unrepentant, lips smeared with devotion. “My love, any work of art takes time. And that’s what we’re making, you know. When others look upon our progeny, they will weep in the sight of such beauty.”

“If all it takes is time, dearest,” she says, with a smile just as filthy, “then I don’t want to waste one second of it lying here empty.”

“Mmm,” Astarion sighs, nosing down against her throbbing clit, eyes flashing back to hers as he dares another lick. Her fist tightens in his hair. Astarion only chuckles. 

“You’re right, of course,” he croons. “That won’t do, at all. I do recall promising to-- how did you put it the other night? ‘Fuck you full and senseless’? I’m more partial to what you begged me for a tenday ago, when I had you face-down and waiting for me as soon as the sun was set. Remind me again, my love, what you said when you weren't gasping my name?"

Astarion presses the tip of his tongue to her clit again and tastes her rapid, ravenous pulse in the heat of it. Tav’s hips jerk in response, but he holds her fast.

“I-I said I want-- that I want--”

“You want me to ‘breed you like a damn animal’," he finishes for her. "Oh, don’t be shy now, my sweet. We’re far past that. And we want the same things, after all. But," he sighs, letting his lips drag through her flushed folds, "I've another promise to keep, first.”

Astarion flicks his wrist, muttering magic beneath his breath. Tav’s sharp little yelp of surprise shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock throbs as she settles again, arms bound above her head by his mage hand, tits bouncing from the slightest struggle against her restraints. She smirks up at him, eyes aflame with fresh desire. Escape is the farthest thing from what she wants.

“You lie back now, dear,” Astarion drawls. “You’ll take me soon enough. You’ll be so good for me, like you always are, and take everything I give you. And I’ll take very, very good care of the woman I intend to make a mother.”

Astarion watches her keenly, tracing his forefinger down through her slick. He unfurls it, circling her cunt daintily, and watching her writhe for even the faintest promise of friction. He’s not sure if it’s his mercy or his selfishness that readily discards the thought of keeping her here, just like this, for the rest of the day. She’s mesmerizing, with the way her back arches from the blankets, and how her body strains towards any touch he’ll spare her. 

All mine, he thinks, with a smile that makes him feel weightless. He grounds his hardened cock against the edge of the bed, groaning. All yours, darling. Just for you.

Pride rumbles low in his chest as he sets his mouth back to work again and knows she can’t cover her own. There’s no muffling his name pouring from her lips. No hiding how she cries for him. Her whole body winds taut, shuddering with every stroke of his tongue. 

Finally, finally, he lets his finger slip inside her. Astarion sighs into a satisfied purr, letting the tremble of it soak into her sex. Her cunt’s a vice around his knuckle. Every pump of his finger feeds the building burn inside him, fanning the ache to be sheathed in that tightness. He only aches more, feeling her squeeze around his finger, and knowing she longs for him just the same.

He slips in a second finger to join the first, feeling her spread and then clench anew. Astarion ruts aimlessly into the mattress, in time with the thrust of his wrist. The head of his cock weeps anticipation with the rogue tear trailing down the side of her cheek. It’s only pleasure that makes her cry.

There’s only love in her heavy-lidded gaze as she pants, “Please.”

Mercy, then, Astarion resolves. For both of them.

Her thighs quiver against his ears like leaves in a breeze. Astarion swirls his tongue against the bud of her clit and sucks tightly. Tav stiffens abruptly. His arms hook firm around her legs as a shattered sound breaks from her throat,and a hard tremor courses through her hips. 

He holds her through it, pinning her to the bed until just the faintest brush of his lips has her shuddering. The start of her plaintive whimper has him easing back. A murmured word sets her wrists free of her restraints. Her heart still hammers, sumptuous, in his head, as he peppers her legs in kisses soft as velvet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with each one, slinking up her body while she comes back down. “So, so beautiful.”

He thinks of new life, as his knee bends between her thighs and drags her open all over again. He thinks of the graveyard, where he had her freely beneath the stars, in the dirt where he woke centuries ago. He thinks he’d be happy to die again, this way, as he slides forward and buries himself inside her waiting heat.

Astarion grates out a long, low moan as he basks in the wrap of her arms and her cunt. Dimly, he feels her fingertips threading gently through his curls. He thinks of sunlight on his skin again as he sinks in fully, bracing his arms on either side of her head, letting his forehead tilt against hers. He can feel her pulse thrumming through her body, through his cock, through his fogged-over thoughts. His hips roll to the sound, as if it beckoned him to motion. Tav’s head drops back into the pillows. She lets out a long, contented hum, while her body rocks in time with his.

“Is this what you needed, darling?” He huffs a laugh, catching her lips in chaste kiss. It’s enough for her to taste her own sweetness. And one squeeze from her cunt is enough to cut his breath away all over again. 

“I think you needed me, too,” she purrs.

“Y-yes,” he stammers through bared teeth, his throat tied taut as she wrings him for all he’s worth. “Yes.”

She knows exactly what he needs, what he yearns for. He needs her, needs this, needs to see his seed seeping from her fucked-out hole, pink and puffy and leaking. He’ll know the rest of it was spent so deep inside her, her fertile womb is flooded. That’s his, too, with the rest of her. 

Hips high for me, beautiful, he’ll say, when his last thrust is done. And he’ll hold her legs up against his shoulders, kiss her heels, and slip the pillow beneath her pelvis. Just to be sure it takes. 

It’ll be another couple months before they’ll start to see the fruit of their efforts. Until Tav starts to bloom with it. And then, he’ll be hard pressed not to have his hands on her every hour. Cupping the fresh heft of her breasts as they grow with the passing days, heavy from him, for the babe growing in her belly. He’ll soothe her weepy eyes and tits alike, with a skilled tongue and sweet whisper. Rub her shoulders to ease the new weight her bones carry. Draw his nose down her neck and smell not just her, but himself, and the consequences of what they did, right here in this bed.

Feel her change beneath his hands and feel so fucking proud to be the reason.

Pleasure winds, binding, around his cock, and he feels that hunger snap its jaws around him all over again. His hips snap with it, jerking frantically. I need you, all of you, he thinks, and if he weren’t already fucking her, he’d be on his knees, begging for all he’s worth. Her cunt quivers, and he’s lost to the grip of her. Astarion shoves his own knuckles in his mouth to stifle a strangled cry. 

“Star?”

Astarion rips awake in a sweat. He sees familiar wooden beams above his head, above his bed. Sunlight streaks the floorboards, leaking from behind the curtains. Turning his cheek, he finds his lover peering at him from over her shoulder, concern wrinkling her face. Tav still lays on her side, and Astarion still presses against her back. But his hand clamps tight to her thigh, bare where he hiked up her tunic. And his cock twitches fitfully against her ass, unspent and painfully hard. 

Just a dream, then. For now, at least. 

He lets out a long, weary sigh, slumping back into the sheets. Tav tilts her head, the worry in her gaze gradually dissolving into a mischievous gleam.

“I thought you might--” she starts, snickering, “but you were having sweet dreams, weren’t you?”

“The best I’ve ever had,” Astarion mutters mournfully as he buries his face in his pillow. “You were there, of course.” 

Astarion rarely sleeps anymore. It’s not normal, not natural for an elf. But it was a trick he taught to dodge Cazador’s torment at least for a few hours a day. Reverie used to mean putting the horrors on repeat. He’d slowly eased from the habit, now that he has new memories worth seeing a second, third, or hundredth time. 

Still, occasionally, he drifts to sleep without meaning to. Sometimes, he wanders off into novel nightmares. Or, if he’s lucky, he dreams of making love to his wife and making her pregnant. Of making their own little dhampir.

His hips shift, and he hisses. Pre-cum seeps from the head of his cock, slickening the shaft. It’s not enough. Not after such a succulent fantasy. But one touch from his darling might have him sated, if not entirely satisfied. Pleasure stabs, sharp, through his groin as she shifts and brushes him with her motion. He grimaces. 

Just one touch alone could do it.

“I’m here now,” she smirks, twisting to face him. Her hand slips down between them. Mercy, he thinks, as her fingers wrap his length. He thrusts into her palm with a pleading whimper. “Tell me all about these dreams of yours.”

A/N: If you're yelling "Let him breed!!" at the screen just know I'm right there with you holding a megaphone about it 💜

If there's interest (from others & myself) perhaps there might be a part two where Tav takes matters into her own hands. Makes him say exactly what he wants, if he wants to have it so bad 👀

If you'd like me to add you to a tag list for future one-shots, or all of my future BG3 fic (including multi-chapters), leave me a comment and let me know which you'd like!

& HUGE thank you to some lovely Discord and Tumblr friends/moots who cheered me on as I worked on this one! 💜

Tag List: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

Banner credit to @cafekitsune

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #tavstarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion breeding #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x f!tav #f!tav x astarion #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate

[astraystayyh]

Volcano

pairing : han x reader. enemies to lovers. slow burn.

summary : you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's rotten work. Not to me, not if it's you."

cw : depiction of a panic attack, minor injury, both reader and han say mean shit to each other, cursing, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 13.2k

a.n: highly recommend listening to "Let the light in" by Lana when Han starts playing it in the fic hehe feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

skz quotes series masterlist.

You remember being seven years old, sitting on the floor of your bedroom, while your mom brushed your hair. It was a late July night, a cold breeze swaying your white curtains, akin to the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing. Your eyes were slightly puffy, delicate red veins protruding the white of them. You had just finished watching a Disney movie- the Lion King; heavy sobs escaping your lips when Mufasa died.

There were still faint hiccups coursing through you, a slight shake in your hands as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Your mom brought you to her chest, her chin resting on your small shoulder blade. "You’re sensitive, my sweet girl" she had uttered, rubbing your arms soothingly.

It was the first time someone described you as such. You didn’t know what ‘sensitive’ entailed exactly, but it contained the word ‘sense’, so you assumed it was something good, a quality to be proud of you. You could sense, maybe more than others, maybe too deeply. That’s why you cried when you didn’t get a good grade, or when your friends left you alone in the park.

But you didn't mind back then. What was your heart made for if not to feel?

You should’ve paid more attention to the way your mom spoke, to the bittersweetness lingering in her tone. As if she knew exactly what it entailed to be sensitive- to have your heart overflow with delicate feelings for the rest of your life, with no safe destination to guard them in.

☄༄

You’ve forgotten the last time you cried in.

The tears are lodged inside your throat- you can clearly feel them, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your vocal cords, rendering them impossible to use.

You used to cry, freely, so much that you lost count of how much it happened. But you realized that every tear that escaped your eyes, made you vulnerable, weaker, in the hands of the people around you. Every tear that washed over you, only rendered you more transparent for everyone to peer at how they wounded your soul. 

So, you conditioned yourself to stop feeling as deeply, or at least to stop showing it. The sadness, the hurt, the anger were all stored within you; but your face remained placid, not betraying how you truly felt. You were like a pond, tranquil at the surface, raging from within.

But on days like this one, you miss the person you were. When the implications of being sensitive still haven’t weighed down on you. When you could get rid of your feelings in the essence of your tears. When you didn’t yet feel bad for feeling.

Chan's eyes are on you, as you type furiously on your laptop. Your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see your lit screen. But you’re afraid that if you pause then Chan would ask if you were okay, and you hated that question. Because you never truly knew the answer to it. Yes, you were okay. But you haven’t cried in six months and your friend didn’t greet you back this morning and you suddenly feel very small in a very large library.

"Hey," Chan taps your hand with his pen and you suck in a slight breath, before raising your head to meet his eyes. "Are you-" he starts but you’re quick to cut him off, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Did you answer question five? I’m stuck on what formula to use."

Chan raises a brow at you, and you blink repeatedly. His eyes travel to your feet tapping furiously against the floor, and he understands.

 "I'm still at number four," he finally says and you nod in relief. You’ve been close friends for a year and Chan has come to know you- he’s dropping the subject.

"Oh, and are you coming to the party tonight?" Chan asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s hosting it and there is hope twinkling in his eyes. You feel bad because you’re about to crush it.

"No, need to revise more for the upcoming test."

"Of course, you’ll still be buried in your books," a sarcastic voice quips up, and you stiffen inwardly. Han- one-third of 3racha, Chan’s self-made producing group, and the bane of your existence. You never liked who you were around Han, he brought out the worst in you. Made all your insecurities roar forward, plastered across your body in neon red.

He was friends with Chan, long before you came into the picture, back into their high school days when Han skipped a class and ended up in the same one as Chan’s. A genius, as everyone around you liked to call him. And they were right- excelling came easily to Han, in everything he ever did. Even tapping into each one of your tender nooks and crannies.

He knew how to expertly push your buttons, how to make his tone sound mocking, and taunting, but only to you. Because you were sensitive, and he knew it, finding it almost amusing to toy with you. 

You decide to stay silent because nothing good ever comes out of talking back to him. So, you bite your tongue, turning back to look at your screen. But Han’s elbow grazes your arm, as he leans a bit further into your face. "Come on, live a little, y/n. You’re missing out on the college experience," he makes a big show of opening his arms wide, a single red pen spinning between his fingers. "Quit being stuck up for one night." And it spins, and it spins, and it spins and something ugly inside you crumbles.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t born with a golden spoon shoved down my throat and I actually have to work for my future."

Han’s eyes widen at the raw animosity in your voice, before narrowing down promptly. He’s leaning onto your face again, and his tone is low and cold when he speaks again. "What did you just say to me?"

"Is it so hard to grasp that not everyone is as privileged as you? We can’t all afford to get wasted every fucking night and call it a life."

You’re being mean. This is the rudest you’ve ever been to someone else. You know that your reaction is disproportionate to what he said. But it isn’t just about this instant. It’s an amalgam of every moment Han made you feel small in, because you don’t go out as much as him, because you don’t understand as quickly as him. Taunts thrown your way under the guise of teasing, but you know better.

Still, guilt eats at you as your eyes lock with Chan’s. You should’ve stayed silent, as you’ve been diligently doing for the past year.

"How do you stand being her friend Chan? Is it out of pity?" Han muses, a pout pulling at his lips. You stare ahead as Han tsks lightly, before tapping your cheek with his pen, bringing your face back to him. "I think it is. Because isn’t she so fucking boring?"

Being near Han always makes you hyper-aware of things you never noticed before. Like how a breath has to travel from the depths of your body so you’d be able to release it, and how excruciatingly long it takes for you to draw in a new one. Because Han’s words are never harmless, no, they settle on the confines of your lungs, crushing down any bit of oxygen willing to leave you.

You've had enough.

"When you’re eighty, on your deathbed, and all alone. I hope you know that there is no one around to blame but yourself."

"Don’t cross the line, yn," Chan finally speaks and you scoff, as you get up to grab your things.

"What fucking line, Chan? So, he can insult me all day but as soon as I do it there is a line? Why are you taking his side?"

Chan stays silent and you chuckle dryly. "Of course, you are. You’re only friends with me out of pity after all."

"That’s not true-"

"Well, you didn’t deny it, did you Chan?"

"Yn, I-"

"Save it."

Han’s eyes are glossy as you take one final glance at him. But your heart’s bleeding too much for you to care about his minor cut.

☄༄

For how much time can a conversation haunt someone? Seventeen days, for your case. And you're still counting.

You have nit-picked your fight with Han in the library so much that it's driving you insane. His voice is drilled into your head- the coldness of it as he reeled back from the shock of your words, and then, the pure venom dripping from his tone, as he attacked you where it hurt the most. Chan.

Han chose his words carefully, stitched up the sentence perfectly to hurt you, to stick to your flesh like burnt skin, one that you peeled over and over, each time it threatened to scar.

You haven't talked to Chan in seventeen days. He tried to stop you; on your way out of class, in the line of your campus cafeteria, on the doorsteps of your dorm. But you always fleet away. His eyes were also imprinted into your brain- the disappointment in them when you clapped back at Han.

What about him? You wanted to yell. Why are you only disappointed in me?

But the tears in your pillow have dried. Then fallen again. Then dried once more. And you found the answer to question five. And you miss Chan, terribly so.

That's why you're pacing around his dorm, at 10 pm, when it's also terribly cold outside. Your fingers have gone numb from the ministrations of the wind, but you don't move from your place. You know that the chances of seeing Han- the second person you’ve been avoiding like the plague- would be higher here. But you didn't care anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the call button and you bite your lip harshly. Would Chan pick up? Would he hang up? Was he really your friend out of pity?

"Yn?" a voice calls out, and you startle, turning around to see who it is. Changbin, carrying two bags of groceries in his hand. He's Chan’s friend as well, the final member of 3racha. You like Changbin. He's always being very kind to you. You've grown much closer to him than to Han in the past few months; not that the latter has ever wanted a friendship with you. From the day you met and his eyes narrowed promptly each time you talked. You should’ve known from the start.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Changbin asks gently, stepping cautiously towards you.

"Chan," you say simply and he nods, understanding what you mean.

"He's not here now, but he'll come home soon. Let's go inside, okay?" he smiles tentatively at you and you hum in reply.

Changbin opens the door and you follow inside. You help him take out the groceries silently, stacking them in their fridge and shelves. Lots of protein powder, and chicken packets. You'd laugh about it if you weren't so sad.

"Chan misses you," Changbin speaks up suddenly, and your heartbeat quickens at his words.

"I miss him too."

"Then you'll be okay."

You try to remember Changbin’s reassuring smile when Chan finally opens the door to the dorm, an hour later. He finds you sitting on the stool in the kitchen. His eyes light up once they settle on you.

And you unravel at the sight.

You're crying, sobs rippling from you as he brings you to his chest. He's patting your head and whispering that it's okay. And you know his shirt is all crumpled from clutching it in your hands. But he doesn't mind. He only hugs you tighter.

"I'm sorry, yn. So, so, sorry. I should've stopped him before, I just... You two are my best friends and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by talking and-"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm the one who should apologize for ghosting you."

"I understand why you did it. I fucked up but I missed you so much. Can we please never do this again?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, but the sound withers as the door opens once again.

"What is she doing here?" a cold voice breaks you and Chan apart, as your eyes land on Han. His gaze sucks the breath out of you, and the warmth in your heart fizzles out. Your hold on Chan’s shirt tightens and he takes an unconscious step in front of your body. Han doesn't miss the protective gesture.

"Get out, yn."

"You don't get to kick my friends out of my house," Chan is angry. And you regret ever coming here.

"Last I checked it's my house too." Han doesn't even bother looking at you. He's holding Chan’s gaze as if they're silently communicating. "You know damn well what she said why-" he takes a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck this. If she's not leaving then I am."

And with that he storms out, slamming the door behind him. You flinch at the sound.

Chan’s eyebrows are knitted as he stares at where Han stood seconds ago as if trying to conjure him up once again. You never wanted to strain their friendship. You knew how much Han cared for Chan, even if he didn't bear the same sentiment for you.

"Chan, I’ll leave. Call Han and tell him I'm gone."

"You don't have to."

"I know," you reassure, placing your hand on his forearm. "We'll talk more later, okay? It's cold and he has nowhere to go. Just call him, please."

"Fine," Chan concedes. "Call me when you get home, alright?" his eyes finally soften and you squeeze his hand in reply, before heading out as well.

The walk from Chan’s dorm to yours is fairly short, but tonight, it seems like kilometers are separating you from the safety of your bed. There is a heavy weight crushing your bones, most of it being guilt at what just transpired between Chan and Han.

That's what comes with being sensitive- you bear the weight of your feelings and the one of those surrounding you.

Were you out of place with what you said to Han? Yes. Was it eating you inside to see the consequences of your words? Yes. But he was also to blame, you repeated in your head. He was also to blame. Please. You plead, you don't know to whom, maybe to the voice in your head to stop being so mean. 'But none of this would've happened if you weren't so sensitive. So easy to bruise' the voice mocks and you stumble on your feet.

It happens so suddenly it takes you off guard- the way the breath is knocked out of you. You pause, chest heaving as you bend down slightly. Your hand is on your heart as you try to breathe again, but it's shaking so much. Your legs give out under you, and you plop down on the floor, eyes tightly shut. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. You're going to pass out.

"Yn, what-" A hand rests on your shoulder but you shake it off. You don't want to be touched. Not by him.

"Let me help-" Han speaks again, and you scramble away from him, as best as you can anyway. You end up kneeling on the ground once again, your back to him. "Get-get away."

"I know you're mad but you aren't okay and I know how horrib-"

"You aren't helping!" you shout through tears, as your heart threatens to spill out of your throat. "You’ve hurt me e-enough already."

You don't remember how you got home that night, how you managed to open the door or cross the road leading to your dorm. But you remember Han leaving you on the cold ground, just like you wanted. You remember the ache in your bones as you laid on your bed; the burning desire to stop feeling for a night, to cut your chest open and tear off your bleeding heart.

☄༄

One month later

If there's one thing you've always complained to Chan about, it's the fact that his building had an elevator in it, unlike yours.

Today, you’ve come to regret this fact. Tremendously.

You’ve been avoiding going to Chan’s dorm for the past weeks since the last thing you wanted was to see Han. But, he insisted on you coming over, reassuring you that it would only be him and Changbin at home since Han supposedly had other plans.

Well, Chan was wrong. Because Han just walked into the elevator you are in, mere moments before its doors closed.

Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock on yours. He looks like he wants to say something but he decides against it, opting for sighing loudly instead, before pressing the button leading to the fourth floor, rather harshly.

Your need to flee has never been this strong.

You watch anxiously as the numbers slowly go up. 1… 2… 3… Then a loud voice startles you and the elevator starts to shake in place. The door is suddenly opened and you are met with a cement wall, blocking your exit.

"What the fuck?" Han groans as you press the emergency button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator will resume its course and this nightmare will be forgotten.

It doesn’t.

"You’re going to break the goddamn button," Han pushes your hand away and you stumble away from him.

"Can you shut up? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Does it look like I’m happy to be here?" Han scoffs, as a ringtone plays in the elevator, cutting you off before you could respond. 

"Hey guys, this happens from time to time, so no need to worry. Is everyone alright?" Someone speaks and you assume it's the worker charged with the maintenance of the elevator.

"Yes," you both reply at the same time.

"Great. We’ve contacted the mechanics but they said there’s a lot of traffic, so it might take a bit longer for them to get here."

"How long?" Han asks the question that’s on your mind as well.

"Two hours, at most, for you to get out."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you groan, as hot tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. This is the last thing you needed today- to be stuck in a cramped-up space with the one person who sucks the oxygen out of any room you’re in.

"Thanks, man," Han sighs and you turn your back to him, facing the wall. You’ve had a horrible day, scratch that, a horrible week. Hanging out with Chan and Changbin was the one thing you were looking forward to, only for the worst possible scenario to happen- being stuck in the same place with Han. You feel an urgent need to sob but you can’t cry in front of him. Not when he’s all claws and your skin is tender.

"Wait, are you claustrophobic?" He suddenly asks, seemingly inches away from your body.

"As if you’d fucking care," you scoff, before heading to a corner of the elevator and settling down.

"I'm not a monster, you know," he mutters in an almost sad tone, one that forces you to look up at him. His hands are deep into his pockets, eyebrows knitted as he gazes down at you. "Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?"

"Yes," you reply instantly, before staring forward again. The hurt that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does, ever so faintly, like the last wave that grazes your feet as you get out of the ocean. "I’m not claustrophobic," you add after a while and Han finally sits on the opposite side from you.

It’s hot and stuffy in the elevator, and it’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. You’ve never really liked silence for too long, it made the small voice in your head only grow bolder, louder, impossible to ignore.

Thirty-five excruciatingly long minutes go by and the tension only grows more suffocating. It’s simmering, barely beneath the surface, waiting for the person who will finally make it explode. 

It’s Han.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Come on, we have nothing else to do.”

“Have you tried being silent?”

"Yn," he says sternly and you begrudgingly concede. "Fine. Ask me."

You imagine him smirking slightly, the way he does each time he manages to push you over the edge.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“We’re not doing this right now,” you shake your head, tone adamant.

"When’s a better time for it? We’re literally never in the same place."

“And whose fault that is?” You smile too sarcastically and he frowns. “So, I’m the only one to blame?”

“Can’t you see how full of yourself you are? Fuck, Han, this is exactly what I hate about you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re so immature, you never sit back to think of how your words might impact someone.”

"What words yn? I was teasing you!" his voice grows louder and so does yours. "You were hurting me!" you yell, chest heaving. There is something utterly terrifying in this confession- to let someone know how easy it was for them to get to you.

"But I didn’t mean to," he drags a hand through his hair, exasperated. "It's not my fault you felt that way."

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips, as you point at him. "See, you're doing it again! You're blaming me for my reaction instead of evaluating how your actions might have caused it."

"Look, yn," he scrambles to you until there are only a few centimeters separating your bodies. "I really wanna fix this, okay? Can we stop screaming?"

"Why are you so hellbent on fixing it?" you question, as you lean further away from him. He notices and takes a step back, giving you space.

"Because although I don't care about you, I care about Chan. And this is hurting him. So, I want to be civil with you."

The mention of Chan feels like a cold bucket of water dousing the fire within you. You know he’s struggling to be in the middle of two people he loves. He doesn’t deserve that.

"Fine," you sigh softly. “You talk. I’ll listen.”

"I didn't... I didn't know that my words would hurt you. In truth, it looked like you weren't affected at all. That's why I kept pushing you because… God Yn you're so perfect it maddens me."

Your eyebrows knit together at his words- the last thing you expected to stumble out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"You never get sad, never get angry. Your emotions are always in check. You're always smiling, always laughing. Have everything figured out from how you want to be now to where you want to be in the future. And you know yourself, you never step out of order. And this is selfish and stupid but it irked me. Because I am the opposite of you. I'm a mess and too human it terrifies me, so I wanted to see if you had a breaking point. But each time I taunted you, you remained placid. So, I kept pushing to see if you'd break one day because, selfishly enough, that would make me feel better about how broken I am."

"Han, you're so stupid. Aren't you a literal genius? You excel in everything you do and you have fun on top of it, every single night. Don't you realize how lucky you are?"

"Do you really believe I find joy in being wasted and not even remembering what happened that night? I do that because I'm in my mind most of the days and it isn't the best place to be in. So, I like to forget."

“Why do you think I always bury myself in my studies? Because it's safe and it makes me forget too. Did you really think I didn’t feel? I feel too much and that’s the problem.”

Han remains silent as you curse under your breath. "Do you even realize how selfish this is? To test a human's breaking point? All because what? I didn't shove my struggles down your nose? Would you go around and do this to everyone who looked fine to you?"

"I know, I know, I was just in a bad place, and this isn't an excuse but I... I felt as if you were just showing me everything that was wrong with me."

"That is how I felt around you," you chuckle bitterly and he hangs his head low. He’s much quieter when he speaks again. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

"Doesn't excuse what you did. You targeted me and made me feel insane because no one was hearing the hostility in your tone like I did."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really am. I never thought it'd get this bad and I deserve every name you called me."

"You do." You close your eyes, as Han’s words wash over you. There is so much more you want to say, so much you want to spit out in his face because of his selfish coping mechanism. But you also want peace, for Chan’s sake. So, you try to bury your resentment, just like you do with every other feeling. One day it’ll turn into indifference. You’ll make sure of it.

You bite your lip, before clearing your throat. Your tone is softer when you speak again. "I'm sorry for what I told you in the library. About you dying alone and whatnot. That wasn't nice of me."

"You really hit the nail with that one," Han chuckles quietly, and guilt floods your heart at the expression on his face. "And I'm sorry for calling you boring. You aren't. And for everything I said before that."

"Okay. It's okay." You reassure, a tiny smile drawn on your lips.

He nods before a sly grin grows on his face. "Should we hug it out?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow at you and you stare pointedly at him. "Don't push your luck."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the mechanics finally manage to get the elevator going, which in turn allows you both to get out. Han opens the door to the dorm, and you find Chan lying on the couch, scrolling down his phone.

"Han? I thought you would..." he starts before trailing off as he looks up. "Yn? Where were you, I’ve been calling you for the past two hours."

"I didn't have signal."

"Why where were-" Chan goes to question before stopping once again. He hurriedly stands up and walks toward you.

"You... Are standing next to one another."

"We are," Han replies, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"And you aren't... Fighting?" his statement comes out more like a question, which makes both you and Han chuckle.

"We aren't."

"We talked it out, in the elevator which we were both just stuck in," you add and Chan’s eyes grow wide, as a breathtaking smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh my god. Finally. We'll talk about the elevator bit later but it's been so hard trying not to be in the same place as the both of you."

"We know. We're sorry," you both pout in sync and Chan shakes his head, before opening his arms wide. You giggle, before walking to him and sinking into his embrace. Han follows you shortly after, and your eyes meet behind Chan’s back. He shoots you a tiny thumbs up.

Is this how a dandelion feels, you wonder, when someone blows on it in the hopes it'll grant their selfish wishes. Only to be tossed away afterward, lifeless.

You drown out the thought before smiling back at Han. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

☄༄

Befriending two-thirds of 3racha holds within it a lot of privileges. The first one is listening to unreleased music, the second is having exclusive insight into their upcoming performances.

Their gigs don't happen as often as they'd like, because they're still students who unfortunately have lots of assignments. But when a window of free time materializes, they unveil their latest productions at vibrant parties, dimly lit bars, or even the occasional club. Which attracts a lot of people, some even coming from neighboring towns to listen to them play.

Everyone can recognize raw talent, even if rap doesn't happen to be their favorite genre.

This is how you know that they'll be performing Heyday, their latest creation, at Seungmin’s party. You've met him in passing, and Chan insisted that you'd come. Not that you needed much convincing anyway, you fell in love with this song the minute you heard it.

There is an exhilarating energy in Seungmin’s mansion, a palpable anticipation preceding 3racha’s performance, as you all gaze at the makeshift stage. The place is packed, bodies pressed tightly to one another. You feel slightly uncomfortable but you swallow it down. You're here to support Chan first and foremost, you can leave if things become too much for you.

The introductory chords materialize abruptly, and 3racha takes the stage. Chan is clad in a white shirt with huge gaps on his sides, revealing glimpses of his chest each time he bends down. Changbin, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is wearing a tightly fitted black shirt, hugging each muscle of his to perfection. Han, the last one to walk in, sports a loose black shirt, with a low neckline. His nails are painted to match the color of his attire, you notice.

The song kicks off with Changbin's incendiary rap as deafening cheers ring all around you. You make sure to scream on top of your lungs too, as Changbin’s loud voice commands the attention of everyone in the room. You’ve always held a penchant for his rap style- how powerful he sounds, and how addicted you quickly become to hearing him on stage. You remember once telling him that any song that starts with his rapping is a successful hit. He playfully nudged your shoulder but his appreciative smile was hard to miss.

Chan’s part is next and you try to rap along, as best as you can anyway due to your fleeting memory. It sounds mostly like gibberish but you don’t mind, especially when your eyes meet Chan’s and he grins at you, before morphing into the mesmerizing stage persona that's peculiar to him. You clearly remember the first time you witnessed him on stage, and how enthralled you were by the sheer power he exuded. His destiny was intertwined with music, no one could deny that. 

A bed squeaking sound comes next, followed by the knocking on the door and you giggle against your will. That was Han’s ingenious touch, as Chan had shared when you'd raised a quizzical brow at him while listening. “Is this based on a real-life experience?” You asked, a knowing smirk etched upon your features, and he pretended to zip his mouth, earlobes turning a vibrant shade of crimson.

Han finally starts rapping in his inimitable style, exuding an effortless, laid-back aura. Your gazes meet at the "let's go play" line, and he tilts his head quizzically at you as he utters his confused "huh?". You raise one eyebrow at him prompting a sly smirk from him, before redirecting his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Yet, your eyes remain on him throughout his entire part.

The boys step off the stage, and you watch from the corner of the room with a wide grin as a swarm of people surrounds them. Congratulations and praise fill the air, and you can tell that 3racha thrives on this moment- it's what they live for, what makes their souls rise up from the ashes. 

Chan catches your eye, and you applaud enthusiastically, letting out a happy giggle. He blows you a kiss, and you playfully pretend to catch it, eliciting a small shake of his head. Changbin, who's standing near him, catches the exchange and winks at you from a distance, to which you respond with two thumbs up.

Even though you're a bit far from them, you're certain the boys can sense the pride radiating from you in waves. There's something truly magical about humans existing in their element, particularly people you care about.

Your gaze shifts to Han, and your smile falters slightly. He's also glowing, but signs of discomfort are starting to creep onto his face. You recognize them fairly well, as you've felt them too at times when emotions become overwhelming. So, after a brief internal debate, you decide to act and begin making your way toward him, pushing through the crowd despite the rising complaints behind you.

They fall on deaf ears.

You grab Han's forearm, pulling him with you through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. He doesn't fight, following diligently behind you. You open the door and pull him inside, pausing as you realize you don't have a specific plan for bringing him here. This is also the first time you've been alone together since the elevator conversation.

"Thank you," Han whispers, and you nod, your eyes softening. "I'm okay, I love performing, I just needed a breather," he quickly adds, as if feeling guilty for being overwhelmed. 

"That's completely understandable. You are running on a lot of adrenaline, and the room is so crowded," you say with a smile, turning to the mirror to touch up your makeup.

Han remains silent for a while as you powder your face, before reapplying your cherry lip gloss. You can hear him taking in deep breaths, and you avoid looking at him, worried he might feel embarrassed.

"What did you think of the performance?" he finally asks, and you raise your head slightly. You lock eyes with him through the mirror, as he leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. His black t-shirt falls a bit, revealing more of his bare skin, and your eyes trail down for a moment.

"It was really good. I think this song might be my favorite of all yours."

"Really?" Han grins, his words filled with an excitement that warms your heart despite yourself. He's just received heaps of compliments from hundreds of people, yet your words still seem to affect him deeply.

"Yes. I loved your rap, how it started in a laid-back manner, and then you cleared your throat and picked up the pace. It added a unique edge to the song."

"Thank you, really," his smile is genuine, and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"What's funny?" he asks, walking up to you. You're still facing the mirror, and he's now only inches away from you.

"I didn't imagine you'd appreciate my compliment this much."

"It feels sincere," he shrugs and you nod, finally turning around and leaning against the sink.

"It is sincere."

"Good."

You hold his gaze, eyes only trailing down to go across his face. He looks far different from how he did on stage. Shier, more eager for praise.

"You have..." he steps up until the scent of his cologne tickles your nose. His hand raises ever so slowly to your face, and you hold your breath, as he picks up something from your cheek. His hands are warm.

"An eyelash fell. Make a wish."

A surprised chuckle escapes your lips. "You wish on fallen lashes?"

"You wish on everything when you need hope." his voice is low, a timber so foreign to your ears it sends shivers down your spine. So, you close your eyes, wishing for your heart to quit beating so fast.

"Done," you whisper and he blows the single lash away, his gaze still on you.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I had to support Chan and Changbin." It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and Han slightly recoils from your words.

"Right, them. Yeah. Of course," he finally backs away, and oxygen fills your lungs once again. "I'm good now. Should we go out?"

"After you," you nod tightly and he walks ahead first, his perfume trailing after him and pulling you into a dizzying dance. 

☄༄

The party Seungmin hosted was your last time having fun for a while. Your preparation for midterm exams began soon after, and you found yourself swarmed with assignments left and right. Thankfully, you and Chan were going through it at the same time, which meant you met at the library each day, revising silently near one another.

Except this time, you were joined by Han.

Goosebumps ran across your skin as he pulled the chair next to you, not the good kind of shivers. You were reminded of the fight you had right here, three months ago. Which still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You don't hate Han anymore. He's actually funny, and you enjoy listening to his ramblings when you go over to Chan's dorm. He's also really different in his home, much quieter, and softer. Much more like you.

But you're also human, and there is still a part of your brain sending off warning signals at his presence. Maybe because the hurt was never buried properly. You just brushed it off under the carpet after your elevator conversation. Most of it was spent shouting anyway.

"Hey," he greets and you just nod in reply. You can feel his gaze linger on you a bit after that, and a pang of guilt twists in your heart. "Hi," you finally reply, but you tune out his response. Why is it that you're sensitive to everyone's emotions but your own?

Twenty minutes go by, then forty, and you can no longer take the uncomfortable feeling clinging to your skin. So, you excuse yourself, hurriedly stepping out of the library.

Han follows you; you can tell it’s him because someone's chair scraped loudly against the floor as soon as you stood up, and that couldn't be Chan because he is always careful with the silence in the library. So, you put on your headphones and walk faster.

This is childish, surely it is, but you can't control your emotions. You've apologized and so did he, you talk from time to time and you even held his arm and took him to a quiet bathroom. So where is all this bitterness coming from?

"Dammit, yn, how are you so fast?" Han grabs your arm pausing you. He's panting slightly and you just blankly stare as he takes in a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks and you nod, turning around to walk away. He stops you again.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?" he asks quietly, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead wearily.

"You didn't do anything, I just... Being in that library reminded me of certain things."

"I know. Me too. Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," you raise your brows and he stares pointedly at you. "Come on you know what I mean."

"Fine," you giggle, "we can talk."

"I didn't apologize properly to you in the elevator. Truth is, I did it because Chan was mad at me and I couldn't stand it anymore."

The bitterness- you understand where it comes from now.

"But I am sorry. Truly sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and this will sound like a joke, but I hate hurting people. I really do. I was just too wrapped up in my problems that I didn't realize how it would affect you and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I also shouldn't have tried to kick you out that day, but dying alone is my biggest fear, and seeing you in my home made me want to lose my mind because I couldn't get what you said out of my head, but it was so cold outside and again I shouldn't have told you to go out and I am so sorry-"

"Han, breathe," you smile, cutting him off and Han sucks in a deep breath, chest slightly heaving from talking uninterrupted for a minute straight.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to apologize, properly this time. I'm doing it because I'm guilty, not because of Chan. Nothing excuses my behavior, I know. And I wish I could turn back in time and actually get to know you because you're really cool and very nice, but I can't. All I can do is apologize. So I'm sorry, Yn. I really am."

"I appreciate it," you smile, and Han exhales a little from relief. "I didn't know that was your biggest fear, but even if it wasn't, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said something so mean. So, I'm sorry for it too. But I'm not apologizing for being mad, you deserved that."

"I did, I did, I know." He's quick to agree. "I don't want us to be awkward around one another. I'm not telling you that you have to be my best friend but, we can be friends, right? But you also don't have to. It's enough if you forgive me and... You know what? Never mind forget I said anything, I'm just nervous and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"We can be friends. I accept your truthful apology."

"Actually?"

"Yes."

"Like we can start over?" he grins and you chuckle at the excitement in his face. "Yes."

"Can we hug it out?"

"Too soon," you pout and he nods, a faint blush dusting his cheek.

"Right. Should we go back to the library? I saw that you were stuck on a question. I can help you."

"You won't make any comments?"

"No. Pinky promise." he outstretches his pinky towards you and you muse over it for a bit, before wrapping your finger around his. You grin at Han- your first genuine smile since he's known you. His hold on your pinky falters.

"Okay. I'm in."

.☄༄

Five weeks later- 1:13 a.m.

You were still slightly cautious near Han as if you were both threading along an invisible line. You could talk, but not too much, afraid any old animosity would shine through. And you could stay together, but not too long, in case it gets awkward and you wouldn't know what to do. So, you never mixed, just like water and oil, each of you knowing their place, away from the other.

But you still didn't want to miss out on outings with your friends. So, when Chan invites you for a movie night with Han, and Changbin, you don't say no.

The night runs smoothly, the warm beer you had easing your nerves bit by bit. It was also easier to forget that you once hated Han when he brought tears to your eyes from laughing so hard.

2:56 a.m.

An unbearable heat suddenly envelopes you, your very blood boiling from within. You hesitantly look down, to find your entire body bathed in red, as if your skin had melted away, exposing you to the scorching heat embracing your tender flesh.

You are in the heart of a volcano, with lava bubbling dangerously below. Hanging by a frail thread, you dangle over the edge of death.

And then, you plummet. 

You startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest, your hand clutching it tightly. Cold sweat clings to your skin, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe, far from the inside of the volcano that had threatened to consume you.

You glance at your phone- 3:43 a.m. You read. It's only been a mere hour since you went to sleep. You don't think you could drift back into slumber. 

Dragging a hand tiredly across your face, you walk into the pitch-black kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, hoping that the icy drink will cool you down. You are safe.

"What are you-" you startle, dropping the glass and spinning around, hand pressed to your heart.

"Han, fuck, you scared me," you sigh, tugging at your hair slightly and he's quick to your side, a string of hushed apologies tumbling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, here let me clean it up," he kneels and you follow suit, grabbing his hands and gently pushing them away. "No, I dropped it, let me clean," you reassure, but your hands are trembling as you pick up the shards of glass, any bit of logic clouded by your racing thoughts.

Your heartbeat's ringing loudly in your ears, you barely register the glass cutting your skin until an uncharacteristic warmth oozes from your hand. Blood.

"Shit," you curse lowly and Han illuminates the place with his phone flashlight. "Did you cut yourself?" he asks and you shake your head, walking over to the sink.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Yn, let me see," he's standing behind you, the ghost of his breath grazing your exposed neck.

"Han, really it's-" he cuts you off, grabbing your forearm and walking you over to the couch. He finally turns on the lights before crouching down in front of you.

"Show me?" he asks gently and you're too tired to fight him. You open your palm tentatively, taking a look at your cut for the first time as well. It's not too deep, it won't require stitches. But it's also not shallow, blood oozing from it at a steady rhythm.

Han simply frowns upon gazing at your wound, before walking over to his room. You don't move from your spot, gaze lost into the space before you. What would happen if you never woke up? Would you feel your flesh burning? Bones melting as the searing lava-

"Here," he gently holds your wrist, as his eyes meet yours. "This will hurt a bit. Hold my arm as tight as you want and tell me if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Okay," you simply nod.

He dabs up your cut with a cotton pad soaked in alcohol. You hiss softly, as the liquid burns your open skin. Han abruptly stops at the sound. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay," you smile reassuringly, "I can handle it."

Han nods, resuming his treatment. He's even softer this time, if that is even possible. He's careful when he rubs a soothing gel on your cut, before wrapping your palm in a gauze. He can't find a pair of scissors so he cuts it with his teeth, his lips brushing against the back of your hand. You account the warmth you're suddenly feeling to the aftermath of your nightmare.

"Why are you even up?" he finally asks as he settles next to you on the couch, eyes looking up to the ceiling.

"Nightmare."

"You’re okay?" he asks gently and he sounds truly concerned for your well-being. You aren't used to this. To Han acting like a friend to you. But it feels nice to be cared for, so you don't mind him blurring the lines tonight.

"I'm still a little bit scared," you admit sheepishly and Han's eyes soften under the dim moonlight.

"It passed. You're okay now."

"Am I?" you drag a hand tiredly across your face and Han frowns, inching closer to you.

"Is it a recurring dream?"

"Mm. It tires me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget." 'Help me forget' you want to add, but you decide against it. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I got inspiration for lyrics so I had to write it down."

"Can you share some with me?" you ask, tone a tad too hopeful. Han catches it and smiles warmly at you.

"Sure. This is probably going to be in the chorus..." he pulls out his phone, heading to his notes app. "This is what I have so far... I let my frustrated screams out hoping that they’d be washed away in the rain. I send it off with a smiling face, down to the last drops left on my fingertips." he pauses, scrolling down a bit more. "I also wrote this; I think it'll be nice in a verse... I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

"You're such a talented lyricist Han," you whisper in awe, and Han’s cheeks warm up at your words, reminiscent of a setting sun. "But I also wish it was as easy as this. To let out all the emotions you bottle inside and for them to wash away with the rain." You bite your lip, as Han’s words echo in your head. "I think... I think that's why I get this nightmare. I don't free my emotions anymore, and they show up in my dreams to torment me."

You don't know where these bouts of honesty are coming from. Maybe because you're too weary to keep up a happy facade. Or maybe because you know that the person who wrote these lyrics must understand exactly how you feel.

"Well... It's raining." Han whispers after a while and you look at him, confusion plastered across your features.

"And?"

"Should we test it out?"

"Test what?"

"Screaming under the rain," he says as if it's the most evident thing in the world.

"What? That's insane, Han we will get sick and..." You pause, as the words dissolve in your mouth like the seafoam meeting the shore. "You know what? Let's do it!"

"Really?" he asks incredulously, a huge grin on his face.

"Yes!"

"Okay, let's go!"

You both abruptly stand up, still only clad in your pajamas. You quickly slip your shoes on before running outside. The rain envelops you in a cold hug as soon as you step outside, rain droplets trickling down your clothes. You don't mind, you have lots of bottled-up feelings to free. 

"This needs music," Han smiles as he takes out his phone, putting his playlist on shuffle. 'Let The Light In' starts playing, and you shoot him a thumbs-up.

"It fits the rainy mood," you grin and he nods, squinting his eyes to be able to look at you.

"I think if we scream here, we'll scare the neighbors."

"I know!" you chuckle, wiping away the rain droplets on your forehead. "Where should we go?"

"The empty parking lot!" Han shouts so you'll hear him over the growing rain and you nod. He takes off running and you chase after him. You're both completely drenched once you're a bit far away from the house. But you don't care. Not when there is pure adrenaline rushing through you.

You finally stop, loud giggles escaping your mouth at the thrill of what you're doing. "You should start!" you yell excitedly and Han nods, taking in deep steadying breaths.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"On the count of three! One... Two... Three!" and Han shouts at the top of his lungs, his screams getting lost in the rain. An incredulous smile breaks out on his face as you giggle loudly, the sound of it ringing out in the downpour.

"You looked insane!"

"I feel insane!" He yells honestly and a fit of laughter takes over you both. You hold his arm to steady yourself. 

"You should try it now!" Han urges and you nod, willing yourself to calm down. 

"Okay, will you count down for me?" 

"Yes," he assures and you clap excitedly. Han can't help but smile at the excitement on your face.

"One... Two... Three!" And you shout, continuous screams spilling from the depths of your soul. Han wasn't wrong- your pain, your fear, your anger are all dripping along the rain droplets, from your bruised heart to the tip of your fingers.

You've never felt this free before.

The two of you don't notice the passage of time, the rain acting as a cathartic release to all your pent-up emotions. It was as if your pain intertwined with each rain droplet, and you were letting go of everything that had held you down. Each scream acted as a break from the burdens of the past, and the worries of the future. 

As you finally stopped, panting and soaked to the bone, you looked at each other with raw exhilaration in your eyes.

"So, how was it?" Han yells over the rain and you break out in a relieved smile. "I don't think I’ve ever been this happy my entire life," you beam at him and the sight makes the rain feel less colder to Han. 

He watches, a small smile on his face as you twirl around, face looking up toward the sky, a deluge of rain grazing your cheeks like a lover's tender touch. The smile doesn't leave your face as you spin around, happy chuckles leaving your mouth from time to time.

You look... free. As if there was an invisible weight on your shoulders that the rain washed away. A heavy burden that you carried within you, like a secret secret. He likes the sound of that. Maybe that's what he'll name his song. 

Han slightly shakes his head as he watches you skip around, clothes completely soaked. You are now standing a bit far away, right beside a street lamp.

Ooh, let the light in

Its light shines on you alone.

Time seems to slow down, as Han’s steps falter. You're smiling, not at him, but at the universe. A happiness so raw filling you that it needs to come out, even if no one's watching.

You're spinning around, delighted giggles spilling from you like the most mesmerizing chorus. Something is building up inside Han, begging for a release. It refuses to come out in a scream- violently. It's tender and soft. He thinks that if you held his hand right now, you'd be able to free it.

Look at us, you and I back at it again

Is it possible to feel something other than an emotion? Because right now, weirdly, all he feels is you.

Cause I love to love to love to love you

I hate to hate to hate to hate you

Your eyes land on Han and there is pure joy dancing in your pupils. He's glad you no longer despise him. He doesn't think he can stomach it anymore.

Cause I want to want to want to want you

You run to him, holding his hand before twirling him around.

I need to need to need to need you

Han can't believe he ever thought you weren't human enough. You are a mosaic of every feeling that makes one human. There are lyrics writing themselves in his head and they're all about you.

Ooh, let the light in

You clasp both his hands, before crossing them over. And then you're both spinning around until the world around you blurs. All he sees is you, and the light surrounding you alone.

Ooh, turn your light on

He thinks he might, if the light is you.

5:22 a.m

"There is a heater in my room, you should come," Han offers as you dry your hair with the blue towel he just handed you.

"It's okay I’ll stay here," you point to the couch but he shakes his head adamantly. "You'll die from hypothermia. Do you know how mad Chan will be if I let you pass away?" he whispers in fear, a hand clutching his heart.

"So dramatic," you giggle, before following him into his room. He goes on his bed first before tapping the spot beside him. You sigh before lying next to him, snuggling further into the hoodie he gave you to change.

"You're still shivering," he remarks, as your teeth clink together.

"It's okay."

"You shouldn't have gone out with just a t-shirt."

"I didn't exactly plan on this, you know," you smile sarcastically and Han chuckles before tapping your shoulder softly.

"Come closer."

You debate for a second before complying, the cold tuning out all the rational thoughts in your head. 

Your arm brushes against his and you can't breathe once again. But it's a different type of deprivation. Han always seems to steal the oxygen from your lungs, but for once, you don't mind. Red embers are burning within you and their flames keep you alive. You press your chest to his back, as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Maybe he'll turn you to ashes. Will you rise from them?

"You're so cold," his hand reaches behind to rub your arms soothingly, an earnest attempt to warm you up.

"I’ll be fine, go to sleep. Don't worry about me."

"I can't control it."

In the dark room, Han can't see you curling your hand into a tight fist at his words. 

"If you stay quiet then I’ll sleep," you say after a while and Han giggles softly.

"That's the goal. You need to rest."

"You should sleep too."

"I will."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"Good night, Yn."

You think he's fallen asleep when you speak up again. "Hey, Han."

"Yes, Yn?" He replies instantly, voice slightly hoarse. 

"Can you repeat that lyric to me, about the flowers blooming again?" You ask quietly, and you feel him nodding against your chest.

"I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

His warm voice vibrates within your body. "That's a nice lyric."

"I hope you'll dream of it instead."

☄༄

Against Han’s strong belief, he's the one who fell sick after your rain-soaked outing. 

You knew of it from Chan, who texted you saying that Han caught a nasty cold, and then got food poisoning, which meant he couldn't be there for their highly anticipated meeting—after their electrifying Heyday performance, a record label expressed strong interest in signing them. 

"Can you come over and stay with Han?" Chan implores as soon as he answers your call.

“That bad?” You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

"I don't want to leave him alone. He's been really sick for the past week now, and… it's partly your fault"

"I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me into coming," you chuckle even though you know he is right. Han wouldn’t have gotten out in the rain if it wasn’t for you.

"I'm sorry it’s just I don't think he's been good, apart from the illness. And I’m worried, and I don’t know I thought maybe you could talk to him. He reminds me of you, in his sadness, so you might understand what's wrong more than me."

You think it over for a second before rising up from your bed.

"I'm coming"

As soon as you step inside their dorm, Chan pulls you for a side hug, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you so much,” he whispers, clearly grateful that you agreed to come. It worries you even more for Han.

“No problem. You can go, I’ll be with him.”

“Thank you, Yn” Changbin smiles before hastily pulling Chan outside the door. You wave them both goodbye.

You cautiously crack open the door to Han’s room, to find it completely engulfed in darkness. The stream of light from the door falls upon Han, who squints his eyes, trying to see who disrupted his fragile peace.

"Hi," you speak softly, finding it a bit odd to raise your voice in such a still room. Han attempts to sit up, before doubling over, hand tightly clutched around his stomach.

You rush to his side, kneeling beside his bed. It's the only lit-up part of the room.

"Still hurts?" you ask, your hand moving in soothing circles on his back. He nods, eyes squeezed shut, and you feel your heart crack at the sight.

"Have you taken any medicine?"

"A few hours ago. I need to eat something before I can take more, but I can't get up to the kitchen."

"Why didn't you tell the boys?"

"Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't. I'll make you something to eat. Okay? Try to sleep meanwhile."

"You don't have to," Han shakes his head, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I know," you smile softly, before exiting the room.

Minutes later, you're back in the room, a bowl of sliced fruit in your hands.

"Do you guys live off protein powder and frozen chicken?" you ask, earning a quiet laugh from Han as he lays his back against the headboard.

"We do. Please save me," he jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. "Good thing I grabbed some fruit before leaving."

"Thank you," he grins, eyes slightly squinting closed. 

"Here," you grab a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a sheen layer of sweat coating them. "What? Look at how tightly you're clutching the comforter," you point to his hands and Han sighs, before parting his lips slightly.

His mouth brushes against your fingertips, igniting a cascade of emotions in you. You'll think about what it means later.

You grab a green grape next, feeding it to him gently. A drop of water trickles down the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your finger.

"I can- I can do it," Han mumbles, voice wavering like an unpredictable storm. His trembling hands reach for the bowl, but they struggle to hold it right.

"Han, it's okay, I don't mind," you try to keep your voice gentle, sensing that there is an impending doom awaiting just below the surface.

"No, I- I need to do it. Just let me-" A tear falls into the fruit bowl. "Let me do it, please. I can- I can do it, I’m not useless, I…"

The floodgate opens.

A stream of tears escapes Han's eyes as he looks down at the bowl between his hands. He's crying, eyes tightly shut and the small whimpers escaping his lips feel like a dagger piercing your heart.

"You're sick. Let me take care of you."

"It's horrible horrible work." His voice cracks as his eyes finally lock on yours, and you can tell that his anguish isn't about his illness. These are the words of the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. You have to fight them off with the light.

"I will do it."

As Han lays on his bed, the sound of you washing the dishes resonating from the kitchen, your voice bounces off the dark walls in his head. You didn't try to convince him that it was easy work, you told him you'll do it, even if it's horrible. You'll do it because you want to, not because you can, not because it's accessible. The thought sends a warmth in his chest. It's faint, like a flickering candle trying its best to withstand the wind. But it's there. He holds on to it. He'll shield it with his cupped hands so it wouldn't fizzle out. 

"Hannie, you’re okay?" you peer into the room. Hannie- the candle's flame grows higher.

"Mm," he hums, too weak to turn and look at you.

"You're shivering," you remark, and he tightens the blanket around his body. "It'll pass."

You stay silent, and he thinks you've left the room. But then he feels the left side of the bed dip, with you climbing tentatively on it.

"This worked last time when I was cold," you smile softly at him, before bringing his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He feels frail and fragile in your embrace. You hug him tighter to you.

"Warming up?" you ask and he nods against your chest. He's burning.

"Try to sleep," you urge quietly, your hand moving to pat his back. "It will pass."

"What if it doesn't?" Han asks faintly. Please don't let the candle die, he wants to plead.

"There is always light at the end of the tunnel."

"What if the tunnel is closed?"

"Then you go back to the start and find a new one," you respond.

"Can I find it later? I'm so tired tonight." His voice is drowsy, sleep already clinging to his achy bones. 

"Just rest for now. You did well," you scratch his back lightly, as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck. 

There was never a candle to begin with- you were the light.

☄༄

Had someone told you five months ago that you'd be lying on Han's bed, watching "Howl's Moving Castle" at 2 a.m., you would've thought they were utterly delusional.

Yet, here you are now.

A lot of things had changed since your rainy outing with Han, as if the universe had shifted into alignment, two stars in the sky finally colliding and making way for something new. You saw him under a different light, understanding that no one picks up a dandelion unless they desperately need the solace it provides.

You've grown to care for him, in the course of the past two months. And funnily enough, you've started to like who you were next to him- just yourself, with no pressure of making conversation, or catering to his expectations of you.

He saw you at your worst anyway, and so did you, there was no use in filtering things anymore.

You've been there through the entire process of writing, composing, and producing Secret Secret- the song whose lyrics had captured your heart. You didn't expect him to ask you to be there with him, he just shot you a text, three days after you came over to his house. 'Wanna be there while I work on the song? I know you liked the lyrics.' It was an offer you couldn't pass up on.

You weren't, in your opinion, much help. Han was gifted in the music realm and song-making flowed naturally from him. But he noticed how interested you were in music, so he called you over each time he worked on the song, even asking for your input at times.

That's why, when the song was finally done and released on 3racha's Spotify account, you decided to celebrate by baking him a cake. You may have dropped an eggshell in the batter (you recovered it later on), and the icing's color turned out less vibrant than what you hoped for. But you managed to adorn it with a garden of little flowers, and with store-bought icing, you wrote the words "after the rain flowers will bloom again."

You showed up to the dorm and Changbin pointed you to Han's room, where he had apparently been holed up all day. You shot him a grateful smile, before pushing the door open with your foot.

"What are you doing here?" Han asked, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

"Surprise!" you grinned, pushing the cake his way. "Congrats on making Secret Secret."

"Are you serious?" he chuckled, jumping out of his bed. He peered at the cake, eyes softening as he gazed down at the design.

"You drew a little garden..." he whispered in awe and you nodded, a faint blush creeping up your face.

"I'm glad you recognized what it was. I'm not the best baker," you admit a bit shyly but he shook his head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did this to celebrate our baby!"

"Your baby," you corrected, although the use of 'our' warmed up your chest, weirdly enough.

"You were here with me every step of the way. She's ours."

"It's a she?" you giggled, and he smiled proudly.

"Mm. Do you accept being her mother?" he mused; hands clasped in front of his heart like he was praying you'd say yes.

"It would be my greatest honor," you nodded solemnly, and he let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing the cake from your hands and setting it on his bed.

"Should we hug it out?" he teased, arms stretched wide but you merely stared at him, unimpressed.

"Come on," he whined, "you can't reject me for the third time. And, in front of our child. On her birthday!" his tone grew louder and you couldn't help but giggle at his mock outrage.

"Try harder."

"Our child won't know what a loving parent relationship is and then she'll seek out unhealthy love from the ones around her and-" you cut him off by finally wrapping your arms around him.

You've always known that being near Han left you breathless, but this time, it felt as though he was breathing life into you. You close your eyes instinctively, as his hold tightens on you. He smells immensely nice, like pinewood and soap. You should've hugged him sooner.

"Thank you," he said quietly, forehead pressed against your shoulder blade.

"You did well," you whisper back.

"We did. She's our child, remember?" he reprimanded and you laughed faintly.

"Yeah, ours."

Hours later, the movie's credits finally roll down, and the finished cake sits idly by Han's desk.

"I should go," you rub your eyes tiredly, and Han stares at you as if you are out of your mind.

"At this hour? Do you want our kid to lose her mom?"

"Han," you drawl, hitting his head with the pillow next to you. "You can't hold me hostage."

"I can, as your husband."

"Since when are we married?"

"Since you agreed to be Secret's mother." Another playful hit to his face.

"Stop attacking my face, how will I get laid then?"

"So, you are cheating on me?" you ask, feigning outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby you're the only one I want." You falter at the nickname before hitting him even harder, matching the tempo of your quickening heartbeat.

"You're crazy," he laughs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you onto the bed. He's hovering over you, eyes hooded with a tender intensity as he gazes down at you.

"Will you stay, please?"

"The couch is uncomfortable," you reply, avoiding his eyes. He lets go of one wrist before holding your chin gently, urging you to look at him.

"You can sleep here. We've done it before."

"You were freezing both times. That's why I did it."

"I'm very cold tonight," he pouts, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

"Are you now?"

"Very much so."

"Fine. Only because I don't want you to die from hypothermia."

"Thank you!" he grins excitedly, finally letting go of your wrist. You bring a hand to your flushed cheeks, as he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in your direction.

"Get changed! There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

You make sure to groan theatrically, before heading into the bathroom, where you splash your face repeatedly with water. You aren't used to this- being a blushy mess, because of Han, nonetheless. It was dizzying you, how things took the complete opposite turn between you and him.

At least, back then you weren't alone in your hate, you couldn't stand being alone in your affection.

So, you'd stop this, whatever feeling that's coursing through you. Tomorrow, you will firmly close the door on the blooming feelings within you. But tonight, you’d both lay on the same bed, arms brushing against one another. It's completely dark and quiet, but there is an entire symphony playing within you.

"Thank you for today," he whispers, turning around and tucking his arm under his head, this way he's facing you.

You mirror his actions, and your fingertips brush against one another. You can't see him but you can feel him. He's everywhere, wrapping around all your senses. 

"Thank you for making this song. It's very comforting to me."

"Why is that?" he questions, inching closer to you, you can feel his minty breath fan all over your face.

"I’ve always felt like I carried too many emotions within me. Like a volcano, bubbling over until the day I explode. I never liked feeling this way, so I tried to hide it," you confess softly.

"Like a secret secret."

"Like a secret secret," you repeat, glad that he understands.

"You don't have to hide with me," he says after a few silent beats, and you swallow nervously.

"I know." you lick your lips as the music inside you grows louder. "Still cold?"

"A little."

"Come closer," you beckon, and he complies instantly, wrapping his arm behind your back and drawing your chest close to his. Your legs entangle with one another, as your face lays on the crook of his neck. It's intimate, far more than any time you've done it before. You don't want to sink in his hold in fear of never resurfacing again.

"Good?" he asks, voice tinged with a newfound raspiness. 

"Mm," you hum, and he releases a relieved sigh.

You've once read that everything in this universe sings. Every atom's vibration creates a sound, contributing to a grand celestial chorus. It's an unscientific, but lovely thought, to wonder who our hearts sing for.

Right now, it's for Han.

☄༄

The music echoes through your being, an ever-present melody that refuses to fade into silence. Even with no audience to enjoy it.

Han always found his way back to your side, no matter how many times you've tried to distance yourself from him. And you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him, because you were friends, first and foremost. And friends don't abandon one another just because a mere glance at them sprouts a blush across your cheeks. 

That's how you find yourself on your way to Han's dorm, for the third time that week. Watching movies together has become your little tradition, for the past few months, and sometimes even Chan joins in. Although he mostly enjoys shooting you a knowing smile, to which you flip him off.

Your phone rings and Han's name illuminates your screen. You smile against your will.

"Can't wait to see me this much?" you singsong and Han's chuckle rings through the phone. It's rich and deep, causing you to tighten your hold on the device.

"Yes. And can you please go to the store? I'm out of snacks."

"What do I get out of it?" you muse, changing directions to the nearest convenience store.

"Snacks."

"Asshole," you giggle on your way to cross the road.

"And my eternal gratitude of course."

"Right, because I can't-" Loud tires screech right beside you and you startle, letting out a loud yelp as you drop your phone.

A hand on top of your heart, you bend down to pick up your fallen device, as the driver gets out of the car that grazed your body, mere inches away from hitting you. 

"Are you okay, miss? I'm sorry I didn't see you." The middle-aged man is quick to your side, and you glance at the small kid in his car, willing yourself to calm down for their sake.

"I'm fine. Just a bit startled. Drive more slowly, there is a kid with you."

"I know, I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his stressed features and you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Just pay more attention to the road, okay?"

"Thank you so much. Thank you," he clasps his hand in gratitude before getting back to his car and you wave him off, your heart still wildly beating in your chest.

You head into the convenience store, picking up the snacks you know Han loves before paying for them. But as soon as you step back outside, you spot a disheveled Han crossing the road, sprinting toward the store. His pace quickens upon spotting you.

"What are you..." your question is cut short as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest instantly. You can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart, and you're confused as he pulls away, hands cradling your cheeks and turning your face left and right.

"You're alright, nothing happened to you, right? You’re okay?" he inquires urgently and you let out a confused giggle, as you grab his arm to steady him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard the tires screech and you yelled and then you didn't pick up when I called and I thought-" his voice cracks. "I thought something happened to you."

"No, no. I'm okay. Nothing happened, I promise." you reassure, as he brings you to his chest once again, his hand smoothing the top of your hair.

"I was so scared," he kisses your temple, as his thumping heart resounds within your chest. "So terrified that something would happen to you. I thought I'd lose my mind."

"You don't mean that," you shake your head slowly, peeling yourself away from him.

"Can you really not see how much I care about you? How I crave being near you?" his voice raises a slight octave. The music in you picks up.

"How long do I have to pretend to be cold to have you nearby? For god's sake, I'm never cold around you, yn. When I see you, I ignite." He takes in a deep breath, pressing his forehead onto your shoulder. "And I... I couldn't have lived with myself if something happened to you. I... You drive me crazy, Yn. When we became friends it felt like I was stepping inside a home for the first time, and yet I already knew each turn in it."

He grabs your arms, shaking you slightly as his chest heaves up and down. "My darkness recognizes yours and my light is you and you- you think I wouldn't care if anything happened to you?"

He shakes his head as tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Has his music always been this loud, were you just not listening properly?

"I'm scared because we didn't start well and I understand if a part of your heart still resents me, I do. But I don't think I can pretend anymore. Not with you," his voice softens as his gaze locks on yours.

"Were you pretending too?" He asks, hope dripping from his tone. "Do you feel it too?"

A split second goes by. A candle flickering somewhere. A dandelion plucked from the ground. The shadow of a cloud passing over the sun- and you pick.

"I feel it too. So much that my heart feels like it’s singing for you, Han."

"I'll sing for it in return," he whispers, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hand slides up the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You drop the bags of groceries as you cradle his cheeks, feeling them warm up beneath your touch. You can't believe you've ever disliked your heart for feeling too much, not when the lovely emotions flowing in your heart threaten to burst it at the seams, submerging you in a warmth you've never known before- Han. 

Two months later

You have 3 new messages from: hannie

"kept this song a secret from you baby but i wrote it for you so you can't be mad"

"i don't know if you remember but you’ve once told me that you are a volcano. as if that’s something that’s supposed to put me off. well, some people dedicate their lives to studying volcanos. and i would dedicate mine to learning you."

"Volcano.mp3."

Light.

#stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #han x you #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #han fluff #han angst #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han fanfic #skz fanfic #skz reactions #skz au

[luvjunie]

— Unforgettable ( 4 )

part one • part two • part three • part four • part five

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: angst/conflict (y’all knew it was comin), language, miles being a dunce, gwen and her awkwardness

summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 3,284

a/n: i held onto this for so long my apologies i had to find time to actually sit down and edit it fr fr 😭 i read this a gazillion times to the point i can recite it from memory so if you see any typos or grammar errors no you don’t. recap of part three is in small italics

prev | next

He wanted this. He wanted you.

But any chance for another sensical thought was interrupted when the impossible happened. ‘Impossible’ being the multi-layered hexagonal portal that suddenly opened up on his ceiling, and the blonde-haired, gap-toothed girl he thought he'd never see again, appearing with it. Bright and beaming down at him with a heart-halting grin, Miles felt his stomach drop as soon as she spoke.

"Miles!"

Shit.

. . .

Love tears down your walls and leaves you vulnerable in all aspects. The skin you didn't know you wore as a shield to protect you from the unexpected is shed in one swift layer because you don’t care what the unexpected is anymore. All the space that was left for worrying about what’s to come has been stolen to make room for the one who makes your heart flutter faster than you can blink.

Love is waking up in the morning, and before you’ve even wiped the lingering dream from your eyes, you find yourself rolling over in hopes of discovering a text from your favorite person—a blur of letters you’re barely able to make out, but it causes a smile to stretch across your face nonetheless.

It’s what has your thoughts drifting from your conscious at least five times a day, chin tucked in hand, eyes dreamy with the image of him playing over and over again in your mind, face melted into the stupidest grin you’ve ever been able to manifest. It leaves you yearning for him in ways you never imagined before, wanting to see into the places of his soul he’s hidden from the world and even the ones he loves most.

So if that’s love, what’s this feeling that you have now?

What follows closely behind love is the ugly shadow that trails on its heels like a sinking suspicion you can’t shake; the one that’s never acknowledged because things are just too good for you to be worried about all the cons that come with the pros. That biting feeling that often goes undetected until it’s discovered at the most inconvenient of times.

That feeling, the one you couldn’t put a name to before?

Foolish is how you felt right about now.

As you stood in the middle of a lively party for Miles’ father, who was soon to be police captain. It was bustling with excitement, people laughing and chopping it up in every corner, like you should’ve been right about now.

You’d been greeted by almost all of them upon arrival and even managed to run into Miles’ parents, but for some reason, you still had yet to say hello to the one who actually invited you. And you’d been made aware of the reason why when you’d looked up to find him laughing with a girl you’d never seen before, and she definitely wasn’t a cousin. You knew that because you’d met all of them by now in the time you’d spent searching for him.

Miles’ hands were animatedly flying through the air as he explained something to the girl that you couldn’t make out from this far away, and his eyes were lit up in a way you’d never seen them before. Slowly but surely, even though your mind tried to stop the thought from breaking through, you started to wonder if last night meant as much as you thought it did.

The mini-pep talk you’d given yourself to instill courage was immediately deemed insignificant the moment your feet pushed you to start on your way over to them, but still, you tried to ignore the deepening pit in your stomach. You usually prided yourself on being someone who never jumped to conclusions without having an inkling to stand on, but Miles was great at making things you never even knew about yourself come to the surface. Was this one of them?

Your stomach was bubbling with nerves; a sensation of anxiety washing over you. She was the complete opposite of your image, and it made you feel self-conscious about everything, as if you hadn't fallen in love with your reflection in the mirror just before you'd left home. You began to think about how fuzzy your braids were, how you should’ve taken them down last week and redid them like you’d planned instead of ditching that very plan to hang out with Miles instead.

Was your outfit appropriate enough for a family gathering? Maybe you should’ve worn something simpler. Did he like that little snort you always did when you laughed, or did he find it annoying like the last guy did? Maybe you should fix that.

All these questions did a terrible job of hiding what you were truly worried about.

Miles was so involved in his conversation that he didn’t take notice of you walking over. It must’ve slipped his mind that he told you to meet him here and that he would introduce you to his family. Instead, you were left to fend for yourself until his parents caught sight of you being handed a baby even they didn’t know the name of.

And by the stupidly shocked look he sported as you popped up in front of the both of them, it seemed as if he’d forgotten that he invited you in the first place.

As a reflex, you dipped your hands into the pockets of his coat and forged the nicest smile you could muster as your eyes wandered over to the girl.

“Hey Miles, who's this?”

“Oh! Uh, Y/n, this is Gwen-“ the girl suddenly shot him a look you couldn’t decipher, eyes widened in warning, and Miles instantly froze.

The hell was that?

“Gw-Gwaaanda...” he continued shakily after correcting himself, brows raised toward her in silent question. He then motioned back and forth between the two of you. “Gwanda, this is Y/n. My, uh… My…” Miles trailed off, your lips parted in anticipation, and it looked as if he’d suddenly lost his train of thought.

"Your?" You cocked your head at him the slightest, expectant eyes urging him to continue.

“My friend.”

Gwen stared at him incredulously. His oversized jacket stuck out like a sore thumb on you, but a physical hint wasn’t needed. She was able to guess who you were to him the moment you stepped out onto the roof. Or who you were supposed to be.

“Your friend?” Your brows furrowed when you repeated what he’d said in disbelief. You couldn't even tell if the look he’d given you was one of pity, or remorse.

“Wow,” you breathed a lifeless laugh, lashes fluttering to keep the tears at bay with a small nod. You’d never felt so embarrassed. Your throat had that burning sensation that was all too familiar—the one that feels as if your chest is caving in on itself with the weight of disappointment. Heartbreak, you think, is what they call it. You’ve never experienced it before, but you assumed this is what it must feel like.

Gwen shifted from one foot to the other, her hand awkwardly clasped onto her opposing arm while her wide blue eyes darted between the two of you. The shift in energy was palpable, like there was a visible force pushing the both of you apart.

It was her, she realized.

She’s the force.

She suddenly cleared her throat.

“Is anyone else like, really cold right now?” Gwen's hand nervously gestured towards the air with a stale chuckle. “Cause, boy, it is definitely chilly today!”

“Here,” Your throat pushed down the godforsaken lump that was forming as you forcefully tugged Miles’ coat off your body as if it burned your skin.

“Have Miles’ jacket. I don’t need it anymore, anyway.” Thrusting the bundled green puffer into her loose hold, you ignored the graze of disbelieving eyes burning into the side of your head and adjusted your shirt as if you could somehow make it conduct more warmth. Fuck, it was chilly today.

Gwen, Gwanda, or whatever the hell her name just gaped at you.

“I—“

Miles extended a hand to you in a meaningless attempt. “Y/n stop, it’s yours-“

“It’s not. Never was.”

You weren’t talking about the jacket.

You were gone faster than you came—faster than you’d even fallen for him, which was surprising, to say the least. Ducking your body under the railing and jumping down onto the deck, you pointedly ignored the stairs descending from it. If there had been a faster route than the one you took to haul ass out of there, you would’ve snatched it in seconds.

In just a minute, everything had crumbled right in front of him, and Miles stood there and let it happen.

Gwen recognized the look in your eyes; it’d been the same one Miles had given her last year when he confessed to her and she told him they couldn’t be together. Not because she didn’t want to, but because the circumstances just wouldn’t allow it.

As if things weren’t bad enough already, Gwen spoke cautiously, lips rolled inwards and Miles’ jacket loosely clutched in her hands.

“I don’t know if it’s just me, but I think she was expecting you to put another word in front of 'friend'."

“Shit.”

His feet were moving before he even realized he was chasing after you. He narrowly dodged the sea of bodies blocking him from getting to you, his eyes scanning the roof in hopes of spotting the top of your head.

“Miles, wait!” His aunt called out to him. “Your mom is about to cut the cake! Where are you going?”

Miles hastily shouted a response to her with a hand cupped around his mouth, his feet moving backwards to keep up with his pace.

“Back in a sec!”

You pushed through the crowd with your head ducked, sincere apologies muffled to those you bumped into, and a few unwelcome tears rolling over the apple of your cheek as you did so.

“Sweetie, wait! You don’t want cake?”

Without making eye contact, you gave a rushed wave goodbye and a thank you to Rio and Jeff, whisking past the pair. That probably didn’t help your case, but what just happened between you and her son could probably be inferred, because you weren’t wearing his jacket like you were just a moment ago, and Miles’ previously giddy conversation looked as if it’d come to a screeching halt as she noticed that the painfully awkward girl she’d met earlier was standing by herself now.

Rio’s shoulders dropped with a knowing sigh as she watched you retreat.

“Ay, I told you that Gwanda girl was bad news, Jeff!” She grumbled with pursed lips, expression painted with disappointment to match her folded arms.

Your temporary wallowing had turned to rage in mere moments, made known in the way your hands shoved the door to the stairwell open with way more force than needed.

“Wait!” He slid his way through the doorway before it could close, managing to step in front of you before you could reach the stairs.

“Was yesterday and everything before then just a joke to you?” You stared daggers into his eyes after you’d whipped around, your gaze flitting between the both of them to find an answer faster than he could verbally give. “Because apparently, when you’re around whoever that is you forget about everything else.”

“What—No! Of course not." Miles quickly shook his head. Somehow, trouble always seemed to find him when Gwen was around. “She’s just a friend. I just, I haven’t seen her in a while—“

“Isn’t that what you called me back there? A friend?” You scoffed, arms crossing as if they could possibly shield your heart from taking any more damage. You knew you weren't giving him much of a chance to give an explanation, but right about now you felt as if he didn't deserve the chance. “Do you make out with all your friends on the roof or was I some sort of exception?”

“Y/n,” His shoulders dropped at that, and you almost found yourself feeling bad for saying such a thing. “I don’t know why I said that. I just—I froze up, and I’m sorry. But you’re more than that to me, I swear.”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it.” The saliva that was starting to pool in your mouth was aggravating you, but somehow at the same time your throat was incredibly dry. So dry that it had you struggling to make your voice into something more than whisper when he took a step forward, and when you took one back.

“Don’t.“ you said, shaking your head, and Miles grimaced slightly at the subtle crack in your voice. “Do you know how long I waited for you? How stupid I looked wandering around until I found you when I don’t know anyone but your parents? You invited me!”

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Just last night, he’d made you feel as if you were the only girl in the entire world, but now it seemed like the world had gotten a whole lot bigger.

Whether you wanted to know the answer or not, you had to ask. So with a shaky inhale, you readied yourself for the worst, and so did he.

“Is she somebody to you?”

You watched as he swallowed, hard. Adam’s apple bobbing like his mind was for the truth. Gwen was just a friend. Now, at least. Telling you what you clearly already knew wouldn’t make you feel any better, but lying about it would only make things worse.

Miles bit at his cheek when his gaze drifted off to the side. You felt your heart sink at what came next.

“It… It was a long time ago. But I don’t feel that way anymore.”

Your eyes began to dampen again as they held contact with his for a pain-stricken moment, but a dejected once-over from head to toe and a repulsed frown was all you could spare him.

It felt as if the silence between you was much longer than a few seconds. With his chest rising and falling, Miles' throat was filled with words he knew you wouldn't believe. After what just happened, how would you? There was nothing he could say to rectify how badly he’d just embarrassed you and he knew that. And by the look of betrayal on your face and how your shoulder bumped his arm when you shoved past him, it seemed you wouldn’t even give him the chance.

Miles watched you descend down the stairs, his jaw clenched and his heart cramping with it.

What did he just do?

 

—

 

Maybe telling his parents what happened hadn’t been the best idea after all. But after calling you three times and leaving a voice message after each dreaded beep, just to find out at his third attempt that you’d disabled your voicemail box, he truly didn’t know what else to do.

And honestly, it’s not like he really had a choice when it came to telling them. After a couple awkward minutes of standing with a jacket that so obviously did not belong to her, Gwen cautiously returned it to his parents and hurriedly made her exit, which only left them with more questions than they had before.

They realized it was serious when Miles never came back in for a slice of cake.

Tres Leches! Miles never missed out on tres leches.

Rio was more than concerned when she knocked on his door and carefully cracked it open after no response to find her son face down in his pillow, curtains closed and his room in disarray.

She took a seat next to his curled-up form, face tinged with worry. “What happened, papa? Why’d she leave?”

Jeff settled for standing near the foot of his bed. “Yeah, son. She looked a little upset.”

Miles heaved out a sigh as he pulled his body into a seated position, hands running over his face as if they’d erase the memory from his mind. “I kinda… Like—When it came to introducing her to Gwanda, I… hesitated? I guess?” Miles mumbled, his voice raising a slight octave with the last word, as if he were just as confused as they were. Somehow, saying what happened out loud made him realize just how badly he’d messed up.

“Wooo, that’s bad.” Jeff sucked a breath in through his teeth and chuckled quietly, rocking from heel to toe at his son’s confession.

Rio rolled her eyes at her husband who wasn’t much of any help at all when it came to things like this. She lifted her chin attentively at Miles to let him know that she was genuinely listening.

“Well, you introduced her eventually…Right?“

“Yeah,” Miles confirmed, only to wince afterwards. “…As a friend.”

Rio’s mouth dropped. “Miles!”

“I know! I just— I froze! I don’t know why.” His head dropped into his hands in shame, elbows perched on bent knees.

“Alright, son. You gotta help me out here.” Jeff sighed. “So you’re telling me that the young lady who’s in our house almost every week, who we’ve been referring to as your girlfriend when she knocks on the door, isn’t your girlfriend?”

“I— She is, or… she was— isn’t? Anymore?” Something like an agitated groan mixed with a huff left Miles’ lips as he tried speaking again.

“She was going to be. I was gonna ask her up there which is why I invited her, but then Gwen just— showed up out of nowhere last night, and then I kinda sorta invited her too—“

“Last night? You had a girl in here?” Rio arched a brow.

“Who’s Gwen?” Jeff voiced his confusion quietly, eyes glancing to the side.

“Fuck, not Gwen, I meant Gwanda—“

Rio raised not one, but two disbelieving brows as Miles frantically shook his head.

“Damnit, I didn’t mean to say fuck—“ His eyes snapped up to see his parents’ faces painted with pure and utter shock at his choice of words. Again.

“Shit, wait! I—Oh God.” Miles let his head fall back into his hands as he groaned, tufts of hair clenched between his fingers. “Just help me, please.” He whined.

“Yup, that’s all you, honey.” Jeff nodded at Rio and patted his thighs with his hands that were starting to grow clammy, as if he’d actually done something useful before he discreetly slipped out the door.

Rio couldn’t stand to see her son so distraught, so she made the difficult decision to hear him out instead of addressing the string of curses he’d sent their way, or whatever happened ‘last night’. 

“Respira, mijo,” She barely had to pull him into her, his body fell into her embrace the moment her hand graced his shoulder. “I thought you really liked this girl... I even invited her for Thanksgiving!” Rio gently rubbed up and down his arm, comforting him in the way she knew how.

“I do!” he insisted. “A lot… I’m just an idiot who messed things up, and now she probably hates me.”

She pulled him away by his shoulders, looking into his eyes intently to make sure she got her point across.

“Listen to me. You are not an idiot, papa. A little slow to understand sometimes, yes—“ Miles rolled his head to the side in annoyance, but she gently brought his face back to her with a hand on his cheek.

“But—you always get there because you’re smart. And I know that, because your father and I raised you to be.” Miles almost managed a smile when Rio softly pinched his cheek. “That also means you’re smart enough to know that you’ve hurt someone you care about.”

“But… What if I can’t fix it?” Miles' voice was heavy with uncertainty. “Then what do I do?”

“Well, that’s life, papa. Not everything is something you can fix, but you won’t know unless you try.” Her hands fixed the crooked hemline of the cotton thermal beneath his jersey, gently smoothing out the wrinkles with flattened fingers.

“It’s a leap of faith, Miles. That’s all.”

. . .

a/n: tres leches was a total self insert that shit is fire

taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @retirement-home @lunaramune @silas-222 @citrusequalsfrogs @itsberrydreemurstuff @spritecranverry @mewhenimanangel @wisteriaflowersss @chadychadyy2k @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @junipurr101 @bakugouswaif @luvdenisposts @aleluvsuu @wonylxv @attractivepie @cry1ngmyey3sout @silas-222 @idkkk343

masterlist

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x black reader #miles morales x fem!reader #earth 1610 miles x you #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales fic #1610 miles x reader

[cupidscrule]

BUNNY TRAP

Stepdad!Leon X Fem!Reader

Cw - p in v, daughter chasing after dad, stepcest, noncon(?) Unprotected

WRD- 1.5k

You always knew your dad was hot, total babe back in the 2000's ever since you were a kid your friends always gushed over him, and it was fair, always thought it was gross though. Like he's YOUR dad, stepdad yeah but he still raised you, sure he had a cute face, big arms, his pornstar tits were an add on. But he was Dad, nothin' more, But fuck the way he cups your cheek when your sad, hugs you, gives you that awkward Dad kiss. Just makes you yearn for him, which is wrong you know it's wrong but it's like that itch.

Your friends are always tellin' you how lucky you are, not only is Dad hot, he's nice y'know? Real good dad, picks you up everyday, gets you real nice things. Best guy honestly can see why Mom picked him!

"Hi kiddo, you wanted to check out that new place-?" Dad said opening your bedroom door, stupid fucken smile on his dumb hot face

'bury your face in my tits'

"Oh no -! It's okay- really I'm real tired"

'fuck me till I can't breathe'

"Huh- alright, come down soon dinners gonna be ready, and sorry Moms not home yet she said she'd be here in a few weeks 'k?"

'i wanna scream your name'

"Oh it's alright, and of course dad!"

With that he left, shutting the door halfway, dick move but it probably wasn't on purpose, the smell of his colone in the room, only imagining Dad stuff you up. God your disgusting, this is dad. Fourth something year old DAD, since when did you have these thoughts about him, as a kid sure you always thought he was cute 'ohhb I would totally date someone as big and strong as my Daddy!'

But it was LIKE, not actually him. But you can't stop thinkin' about him, wanting Dad to shove your face in the mattress pull on your hair, do the shit they do in pornos. Nasty thoughts, feeling gross and hot imagining all the shit you wanna do with the poor guy, as he just stood there not knowin' thinking your his innocent little daughter who could do no wrong! Oh no she would never have sex before marriage! Oh no my little girl doesn't even cuss!

Yeah right Dad, mhm. Actin' like in middle school my friends weren't blushing over you, whenever you walked in.

Fucken idiot, your little girls not pure, she's not good. She ain't innocent, hell she fantasizes about fucken you every day. It doesn't matter, nothings ever gonna come of this right? Just walk downstairs, eat dinner with dad and go back in your room and sleep it off.

"Sweetiee you finnaly came, how was your day?" Dad says sitting across from you, he didn't even cook. Fucken liar this was clearly some bullshit from a 4 star restaurant he just put on a plate. "Oh it's fine, nothin' much." You say staring at the table, trying to distract yourself from him, how he smells, how he sits, how he opens his mouth, the way he moves his bangs out of his dumb face, his breath. The intoxicating feeling of just bein' near him now.

"Are you okay?"

"Why'd you ask that? You know I'm always fine-" you say in response, playing with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. God feels like a crush in primary school, messin' up words and giggling to your friends about the fastest guy. "You just don't seem like yourselfer Hun, you can always talk to me you know that?" He says, feeling his eyes on you, not in a creepy way more an endearing way which somehow made your entire situation worse. "yeah- I know, don't worry it's fine!" You mumble, lookin' up at him, god he really was dreamy, just wanting him to- NO no more fantasy's.

You finish up, so does he. He just gives you that concerned Dad look before you get up and run back up the stairs like a bitch and lock yourself in your room, typing into Google

'how to stop liking your dad'

'is it normal to have a crush on your dad'

'is it illegal to fuck your step dad'

Jesus Christ your search history, just laying on your side in your bed. Thighs squeezed together tryna' stop thinking about dad, you've seen him shirtless before. Yeah you felt a little hot in your core before, anytime he hugged you you felt so- just so warm. Not the lovey Awee dad and daughter warm, more like if your boyfriend hugged you nice and tight! Feels good, feels warm and fuzzy, pit in your stomach that can only be filled by one thing.

Tossin' and turnin' it's only 6:00pm shit, Dad's still downstairs probobly watching some old movie, he really likes thoughs for some reason, and westerns it's kinda creepy but your the one who wants to fuck him so you really can't be judging. your thoughts are too much to bare, a girl can only last so long on the edge, panties soaked thinking about shit, and hell when you can actually recreate what you want, Nothing's stopping you. Other then ethics but who even cares anymore, walking downstairs to Dear ol' Daddy, bingo.

"Mm- Dad-? Can I talk to you?" You mutter walking up behind the sofa he's laying in, playing with your fingers, how do even address this like,

'Oh yeah dad! Can you just bend your daughter over and fuck her till she's blubbering nonsense, you raised her since she was seven but y'know !!'

No.

"Hm, yeah of course, what's the problem bunny?" He says sitting up, glancing behind him to your miserable face, little frown on your lips. He raises a brow seeing your face, you felt all fuzzy feeling your throat get dry, the hell were you supposed to do?

"Uh Dad, can- can you come upstairs" you mutter looking at him, feeling your chest get heavy. Of course dear Daddy doesn't wanna disappoint you so he gets up and walks over to ya

"What's wrong, Hun?" He says, so sweetly fuck. Looken' all concerned for you, just fall into his chest, even though Dad was in shape he had fatass boobs, real nice to put your face in whenever he hugged ya. Just like always as a concerted Daddy does he puts an arm around you, pulling you nice and tight, "Baby?" He says in that same voice, pullin' your face away from his body, looking down at you.

"Can- can we just sit down" you say grabbing his hand forcefully and leading him to the nice leather sofa, you didn't know much about Mom but she really liked expensive shit and this was the only thing at home she bought..

You push him onto his back, his head resting on the arm, he looked kinda confused, like a puppy! You crawl over on top on him, ass rested on his lower pelvis. "Hey Bunny this is a little- whats wrong?" Dad says trying to carefully lift you off of him, awe stupid Daddy actin' like you're just gonna listen to him

"Dad just let me do this- please, you love me right?" You say looking at him in the eyes, pout on your stupid lips, he just nods slowly as a response. Unzippin' his jeans, wow this really is a shitty porno plot.

'Cute stepdaughter seduces and fucks her Dad while Mom isn't home!'

Jesus Christ you fucking creep.

With his pants open pulling out is fat cock, he wasn't hard which kinda hurt, you were being all cute and all dad did was just sit and stare in shock. Like sure you were gropen him and stuff but he could put some effort in it? Whatever doesn't matter-? You sit on his thighs pulling off your night pants, your panties were already wet from earlier, sadly it seemed Dad didn't really wanna reinact your fantasy so you gotta do all the work, flicking your garments to the side, crawling back onto him. Placing your hips over his Dick, and taking it in, feeling his tip touch your cervix "Mm- fuck-" you murmer, taking a second before getting used to it, slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling ever little movement. It was euphoric, hands on his chest, looking at his face he looked like he was trying to not enjoy it, but you could tell he was. You felt his breath get heavier anytime you went faster, such a good boy.

His fat dick bruising your womb, your walls squeezing against him, you could hear Dad muttering curse words under his breath, made you feel kinda better about this whole thing. Going to your high and getting that numbing feeling, stomach felt warm, brain all fuzzy and messy collapsing onto him, feeling that warm stuff leaking out of you, pulling yourself off Dad, laying on his chest, glancing up at him, seeing his flushed and disturbed face, awe it was so cute!

He probably felt horrible but you felt amazing, fuck best experience. Putting your arms aside his

"I love you Dad.." you spout into his shirt

"Your Mother can't hear about this B-bunny.." he replies, putting one of arms on your back, you could feel his chest go up and down so cute.

#cupidscruel🍡 #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #infinite darkness leon #infinite darkness #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #stepdad!leon #stepdad #di leon #re4 smut #re smut #fic #smut fic #chasing

[lightofthemoonglow]

kinktober day seven and eight

Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall

Breeding | Gore | Master & Slave

third person reader because that is how it turned out oops

Sequel here

Thomas Hewitt

The day had finally come.

The wedding dress is older than the bride. The bride is considered an adult in every part of the world, in basically every sense. And yet she still wears a dress that Luda Mae had brought for herself a long time ago, back when she had hopes for a whole other life that had never come to pass. It’s obvious why she’s doing this, but it’s harmless in comparison to everything else about the situation.

One interaction had been all it had taken for this deal to be worked out. The bride had come from a family of carnival workers that had passed through Travis County that had decided to stick around, her mother becoming friendly with Luda Mae despite the two of them living seemingly very different lives. All the girl had done was shyly ask Tommy about his job at the slaughterhouse as she offered him a bowl of the chili she had brought over. This was some good meat. I bet you had something to do with it. And Luda Mae had noticed the shift in her son’s body language, how he wasn’t as on guard as he normally was for a moment.

It had started as joke between the two mothers. And then they had started seriously discussing it. It made sense. The pool of candidates was already small and neither of their children were exactly…popular. The bride had struggled to finish school after fighting tooth and nail to get in. Thomas had dropped out. Their families were already close. And then, the tornado happened, killing the bride’s father. It was as good a time as any, they had figured. The town was dying slowly, the writing was on the wall. They needed to make it happen before the bride left town for good.

And so, they had wound up in the backyard of the house, the town preacher pronouncing the young couple man and wife, on edge due to the gun that Charlie had aimed at him, ready to pull the trigger if this marriage wound up not being true in the eyes of the lord. While he didn’t believe in that shit, Luda Mae did and his sister’s word was law in their home. The bride was a vision in antique white, her voice trembling as she said ‘I do’. Thomas only grunted in response, Charlie snapping ‘the boy damn well does!’ when the preacher tried to get the larger man to speak.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Luda Mae says to the bride after the cake has been cut and everyone is milling about the yard, the preacher nowhere to be seen. He would never be seen again, but no one would notice or care. “You always had a kind word for my boy.”

And for the first time since her hesitantly uttered vows, the bride speaks. “Of course. He’s a good boy. This was all just a little fast, Mrs. Luda Mae.” But that was intentional, something she would realize later. The mother of the bride had all but dragged her down the aisle. The woman had cried, wailed as she told her daughter that she need to do this, so she could be taken care of, implying that it wouldn’t be long until the bride’s parents were reunited.

After the party, the happy couple was led upstairs, where they were to stay all night. “I want a grandbaby by next spring,” Luda Mae instructed. It wasn’t the wistful dreaming of a woman who yearned to more little ones to spoil. Well, it was, but her tone was that of an order. They were going to grow the family, one way or another.

The room was dim, the sun peeking through the curtains. Thomas makes no move to take off his mask, choosing to just stare at his new wife as she walked towards the bed. The dress is pulled off, revealing a white slip covering her everyday undergarments. She folds it up, so it can be put away in the morning. Maybe it will even be used again one day. The sun shines down on her as she lays on the bed, waiting for him to join her.

“It’s alright. If you…want to.” She speaks softly, not approach him too closely. “I know your mama said that we have to, but I can wait.” Thomas is staring at her, watching her legs twitch slightly, fascinated by the dark peaks on her chest. Her breathing is steady, she’s not looking for an escape. Her eyes are meeting his whenever he allows it. Thomas knows what to do. He’s seen farm animals do it and Charlie had shown him a movie once, short and filthy. Luda Mae had found out about it and been cross for weeks.

The real thing is different. Thomas feels almost cornered as he tentatively touches the hem of the slip. His fingers graze her bare skin and he flinches, which makes her sit up and grab his hand.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” she coos, stroking his hand with her thumb. “Tommy…I know neither of us exactly wanted this to happen. But if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve always liked you.” His face didn’t matter to her, she didn’t care that he had to hide what had been eaten away by the sickness inside of him. He wasn’t going to kiss her, he couldn’t get to that point. Not yet.

They needed to do what was expected of them first.

It takes a while, the sun is almost gone when Thomas is finally ready to get on top of her, still mostly dress, only his nice trousers unzipped. She’s naked, comfortable with allowing him to see, to explore. Her body is warm, soft, and he’s so hard it hurts until he pulls it out of his trousers. But he doesn’t put it in, not yet. He can’t quite manage that last little bit of movement, not yet.

“It could happen, Tommy. Us havin’ a baby because of tonight.” She strokes his arm, not touching his face, not until he’s ready. And maybe that won’t be tonight. “I like the idea. Go on and feel how much, darlin’.” She spreads her legs slightly to let him know he could touch her. His prodding fingers found something warm and wet, and when he pushes, a finger slips inside. “It’s good when it’s wet like that. Means I’m excited. Like you are now.”

Another fingers joins the first and she gasps, but she doesn’t stop him. “We could make a baby tonight. You and me…” The images start coming to Thomas as he fingers explore her. His wife’s belly swollen with their child, her tits full of milk, everyone knowing that she belonged to him and only him-

He’s inside of her before he can stop himself. She gasps, grabbing onto his shoulders as his cock fills her up. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts, slow and experimental at first. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispers, her body suddenly filles with sensations she’s never felt before. Thomas is equally overwhelmed, she’s so warm and wet and good and hot and everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gripping onto him tightly, he’s in awe of the sight of himself inside of her.

Thick fingers stuff his seed back inside of her after he’s done, and he prays for the first time in years that it worked.

#thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #slasher x reader #kinktober 2023 #holy shit this one got away from me

[pandoraslxna]

Sweet like Cherry – Chapter 3

Miles Quaritch x female human reader

Words: 5.1k

Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Warnings: explicit smut, conflicted emotions, mentions of murder, dirty talk, praise & degradation, vaginal fingering, clit slapping, begging, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play

Notes: if this reads like a I’m a villain fucker it’s because I am

Miles Quaritch is everything your mother had conditioned you to hate in a person.

He's rude, you’re reminded every time he throws out insults and sarcastic comments like they're candy at a parade. He's disrespectful, you think, when he never has a good word to say about anyone who’s not an authority figure. And he‘s a narcissistic prick, you realize his high sense of own importance whenever he strolls through hallways and enters a room like he owns the place, not caring about anything or anyone that isn’t himself.

No, he certainly isn’t a good man. He's probably killed way more people than you could even count on both hands. But he did it for his country and mankind and all that stuff, and apparently that kind of murder is considered honorable. Still, there's no way Quaritch is anywhere close to being good.

At first, you liked to imagine he is; that he's got an actual heart where his badge of honor was. But if you've been hired by the government to do shady shit on another planet, killed by blue aliens and then somehow reincarnated, trapped in a body that looked like said enemy, odds are that you're probably just comfortable with bloodshed.

And while he's definitely no boy scout, he still seems far removed from that cold-hearted, disgruntled soldier that didn’t gave two shits about this moon and everyone who wasn’t considered human, the one you’ve heard so many stories about, that you have a hard time accepting that both versions of him are just past and present forms of the same person.

But no matter how you might want to put it, in the end, Miles Quaritch just wasn’t a good man.

And you hate it.

You hate the fact you don’t hate him at all.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel, you ask yourself. Are you supposed to feel the way you do as you wake up in the morning, sleep deprived and yearning for the man that had left you, abandoned like a toy he didn’t want to play with anymore?

Maybe you’re just so starved for touch that you don’t hate him at all, not even after what had happened. It's not heartbroken, or remotely close to the feeling of being sad. You hadn’t shed a single tear like you thought you would. You just felt confused and empty. Empty, more in a physical type of way than metaphorically, if you were being honest.

Quaritch had left you when you were still floating in the afterglow of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever managed to coax out of yourself, yet he hadn’t even bothered to touch you.

If anything, you just felt frustrated. So, so frustrated and embarrassed, like you’ve never been before.

If there was something you proved to be good at in these past couple of days, it was running on caffeine, carbs, and minimal sleep. You hunched over your equipment at the laboratory, carefully abstracting the fluid of a tsyorina'wll- a flour seed plant, before inspecting it under a microscope. You observed the reaction the plants fluid had when coming in contact with oxygen from Earth and then documented it.

Your breathing was at a steady pace, and your brows were furrowed in a tight knot, wrinkling your forehead above your eyebrows in concentration.

Despite the silence in the room, a headache was slowly spreading from your temples over your forehead, pounding loud enough that it almost completely drowned out every thought in your head. If only it was strong enough to stop yourself from overthinking…

You were working in a cleared space in the laboratory, a quiet corner you had mostly to yourself, which made the whole situation so much worse.

You had been personally situated by Dr. Garvin, who had sat you by the big floor-to-ceiling window, giving you access to your own computer and a rather big desk with all necessities you would need for your studies. You weren’t quite close to the big examination table, giving Garvin, who frequently worked there when he wasn’t away for outpost explorations, plenty of space for only God-knows-what. You got used to all the little yellow post-it notes littered across his desk, labeling basically anything as "do not touch!!!" (yes, even his favorite pen) pretty quickly.

Initially, Ian had been quite annoyed when Ardmore suggested letting you use up some more space. Impressed with your accomplishments and scientific studies, she had promoted you to the higher department on your very first week. But for two whole years, that had been his private space to fuck around and work, and he didn't like the idea of having to share it with somebody he didn't know. Yet that tension was quickly eased with how considerate, thankful, and downright nice you were to him.

Oh and there was also Laura. A kind, middle aged woman and fellow scientist that worked on a thesis about pandoras flora that was very similar to yours. If you were to ask Laura, she would probably describe you as neat, always cleaning up properly and not talking too much. But when you did, it was a nice, pleasant conversation that would elicit a few chuckles, even from Garvin himself.

Laura was kind, too. She probably wasn't even assigned to do this, but somehow she ended up becoming a mentor for you, showing you around and introducing you to everyone in the first couple of weeks after your arrival.

She was cute, small and very extroverted, which was funny considering that she had been sharing the same work place with the most introverted person you’ve ever met for the past two years. And she also had a notably adorable focused look on her face while she worked, with her glasses sitting entirely on the tip of her nose.

But unfortunately, Laura wasn’t here today. She had called in sick a couple of days ago, with what sounded like either a stomach flue or the symptoms of having caught a pandorian bug after her little field trip last week. You made a mental note on bringing her some soup from the cafeteria later that day.

The other scientists, like Maggie, who were closer around your age and could probably help distract you from the mess of thoughts running laps in your brain, were spread out on the other floors and different laboratories, which left you to work all on your own today and most likely the rest of the week too.

Normally, you were glad for all of this alone time.

Being alone usually meant, you could zone out of the window and if you were lucky enough, you could catch a glimpse of Colonel hot-as-fuck, before he went on another mission into the depths of pandoras jungle. Or you could gawk at him during lunch break, stroll up and down the hallways more times than actually necessary just to maybe walk past him and get a whiff of his cologne.

Usually, you were more than just glad to be alone, because the thought of being caught gawking at him by a coworker and having to explain why you were eye-fucking the recom squads leader would be kind of degrading.

But right now, you absolutely hated being on your own, left alone with thoughts that dared to consume you whole if you wouldn’t find a way to distract yourself within the next hour or so.

This whole week had felt like you were stuck in a loop.

Almost two weeks had passed since your little encounter with the Colonel. And it suddenly felt like the days went by quicker than you could even blink. You had spend most of your time cramped inside the laboratory, only ever coming out to take a shower and sleep for a couple of hours, maybe even get something to eat, if entering the cafeteria felt safe enough, before you went back to work.

Before Pandora, before Quaritch, there was never really a face to the man in your dreams, your dirty little fantasies; only the blur of a body, hands touching you, feeling you up and down. But now there was a face. And there were eyes now, too. Watching you, always just watching. To the point you got anxious walking through hallways and entering the cafeteria to get yourself something to eat, because what if you accidentally stumbled upon him, what if those eyes were also there, watching you like they had been watching you from across the bed.

Okay, scratch that. Anxious was maybe the wrong word to describe what you’ve been feeling lately. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed because you spend day and night overthinking all the possibilities that lead him to just get up and leave like a coward.

You spend a lot of time after that wondering just how the fuck Quaritch of all people came to be the one you just couldn't categorize. None of the many little boxes in your head that stored people you‘ve got all figured out ever seemed like quite the right fit for him.

Why did he leave? Why?

Did he not like what he saw? Did he not like you?

He had proven to be harder to read than most people, you came to realize, and you didn’t like that one bit. It had your mind spiraling, running wild with the absurdest thoughts and theories.

Of course a man like Quaritch, who had about four decades worth of sexual experience, wasn’t fond of the idea of fucking a dumb little virgin that probably had no idea what she was even doing. God, you definitely made the biggest fool out of yourself, you thought. Vivid images of Quaritch, passing around all your polaroids to a snickering recom squad, began to visualize themselves in your head. All laughing over the naïve scientist that thought she could get into the Colonels pants just like that. Like she was someone.

It was pretty much self explanatory why you had stopped sending him polaroids after that day. Obviously you wouldn’t continue to act as a dumb little plaything for him and his squad to make fun of. You were just glad that the ones he already had of you didn’t show your face, so if he ever decided to make them public, you at least had the chance to deny that the woman on these photos was you. And it wasn’t like the whole of bridgehead knows about your little cherry tattoo, basically the only indication that it was, in fact, you on them. Hopefully that meant you could keep your job, if any of your supervisors was ever to see these damn Polaroids.

The hard-to-ignore fact that Quaritch also hadn’t bothered to reach out to you since then only adds further to the horrible images in your mind, until you actually felt yourself starting to believe that this was clearly a one time thing and that he only wanted to see what he would get himself into, before deciding that he would never want to see or talk to you again.

Besides craving the numbing of whatever you currently didn’t want to feel, you also began to crave the lunch that you completely missed to get about three hours ago. The loud grumbling of your stomach informs you so. Unfortunately the decision to get up from the chair you had seemingly been glued on for most of the day came to you when the cafeteria was already closed, which left you with no choice but to take the elevator, travel two floors down and get some unhealthy snacks out of the vending machine. But it’s whatever. Not like you had to look good in a bikini any time soon or would put on another show, as naked as the day you were born, in the next couple of days– or ever again.

Rounding the corner after exiting the elevator, you don’t even wait until you reach the laboratory again, already fiddling with a bag of chips that somehow, even on Pandora, ended up being filled with eighty percent of air. Pushing the labs door open with your hip, your whole focus was on opening the damn bag of chips and greedily reaching for the first one, before stuffing it into your mouth.

Finally glancing back up to look over at your workplace, all blood in your body seems to run cold at once.

There he is, Colonel fuckin' America, leaning against your desk with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you like you had the audacity to keep him waiting. Like nothing has ever happened. Like this is so natural for him, to be here in your space.

The sight of him practically sitting on your desk, unbeknownst to him crumbling several important documents under him, had you stopping dead in your tracks. Confused didn’t come nearly close to the word that could describe your facial expression when you looked at him, the bag of chips almost slipping from your grasp as you wondered just how the fuck he even knew where exactly you worked?

"Colonel", you simply say, itching to face palm yourself because you might as well salute him too now.

"It’s Miles", he responds, the corner of his mouth curving up in what could be a grin as he pushes himself off the desk and slowly walks over to you. When he begins to circle you, the by now familiar feeling of being his prey returns to you.

The clinically white lab coat you were wearing always helped you feel grounded, like a talisman that reminded you of your true nature, your worth, and it also gave you something to fiddle with to ease your nerves. You wringe the fabric of your sleeve between your fingers, pulling and pinching it in an attempt to keep your hands busy so they wouldn’t start shaking.

With your nerves on high alert and more adrenaline pumping through your veins by the second, your legs decide to move without your brain’s consent, walking over to your desk to place the bag of chips on the smooth, white surface, before you awkwardly begin to sort every document that Quaritch was so kind to make a mess with, as he sat down on them.

"What are you doing here, sir?", you ask to try and end this nerve wrecking tension. That elicits a low chuckle out of him. You force yourself not to look up at him, but you hear him follow you, stepping closer, until you feel his warm breath fan over the top of your head.

"It seems you’ve stopped sending me your little polaroids, cherry", he hums, tilting his head so his lips were closer to your ear. "How come?"

"I- I- I‘m, I didn’t know if you would still…", there’s a pause and you take a deep breath, your voice growing quieter with every word, "if you were still interested in them."

Behind your back, Quaritch’s ears twitch. Damn Na’vi and their distinctive hearing, you curse them. You see the dancing shadow of his tail, curling and swaying as he processes what you had just told him.

"And what made you think that?", he then asks, and your heart skips a beat at his voice, giving you false hope with the sound of being genuinely interested.

"I don’t know, I– I just-“, you struggle to find the right words and sigh. "I thought you weren’t interested in me." It’s a honest confession. You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment as you keep letting the words flow out. There was no going back anyways now. "You didn’t even… touch me or anything so I thought you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me. Especially after finding out that– that I’ve never…"

You don’t finish the sentence. Partly because you can’t bring yourself to speak it out, name the obvious, and partly because he didn’t let you.

"Is that what you want?", Quaritch cuts in and you whip your head around just in time to see his lips part into a toothy grin, his sharp canine poking out from under his lip. He cocks his head to the other side, "You want me to touch you, huh?"

There was something to be said about power and pleasure. Any moron could inflict pain, for all the power it gave to them and certainly pain could be a useful tool, especially to someone like him. But it surely wasn't pain that gave him the feeling of power when it came to you. Quaritch stroked a finger over the back of your neck, carefully flicking your hair over your shoulder.

"Alright, I‘ll touch you, cherry", he hums, "But only if you promise to keep these pretty pictures coming, yes?"

Humans were never designed to fight what felt good to them, you knew that. Pleasure had someone who was expecting a fight as disorientated as a baby bird that just hit glass. The power of making someone melt in your hands, it must be intoxicating. You couldn’t just see it in his eyes, you also felt it in the way his hands wandered from your neck to the collar of your lab coat, gently pulling it down over your shoulders.

You never wished to be better at controlling your expressions as in this moment. You could feel the blush growing on your cheeks, giving away what you were feeling too easily. And it only encouraged Quaritch further. You let him pull the coat off of you completely, and look away briefly as he tosses it over your chair. A moment passes, his hands just lingering but not entirely touching you, until you cast your gaze back at him.

"Okay", you breathe out, nodding slightly, and that’s all the confirmation he needed.

Quaritch lets his hands fall lower, to snake down your thigh, fingers skimming over the fabric of your skirt. His big hands almost entirely curl around your leg, fingertips pressing into what he already seems know is one of your favourite places to be touched: your inner thigh, where it tickles and arouses you in equal measure, but he doesn’t linger there. His hands wander past the vulnerable flesh, further up where he then hoists your skirt up to expose your panties.

A sound between a low hum and a content purr comes from deep within his chest, as he cups your clothed cunt with his warm balm, slowly running the tips of his fingers against the soft fabric between your thighs. Your breath hitches when he finds the outline of your clit, nudging it gently. He drags his knuckles across the fabric of your panties, a barely-there touch, but you’re so sensitive already that your hips twitch at the contact and you bite your lip to keep from moaning. And that ultimately makes you come back to your senses.

"W-Wait, you– here?", you whisper. Your eyes slide to the door, made out of milky glass, closed but unlocked. It’s late and you’re almost sure everyone else that worked on this floor has already went home, but still. Anyone could just walk in here at any second.

You take a quick look at Quaritch over your shoulder, brows furrowed, a worried almost pleading look on your face.

"Yes, here", he confirms.

"You- you can’t be serious." You’re blushing more deeply now. The colour blossoms over your cheeks, the tip of your ears and even creeps down your neck, disappearing beneath that neatly ironed blouse you picked out this morning.

The Colonel chuckles, "You want me to touch you, don’t you? So that’s what i‘m going to do, cherry."

"I didn’t mean right here!"

"But I did. C’mon now, take these off for me", he says, hooking a finger under the waistband of your panties to pull and let them snap back against your skin, causing you to flinch slightly. You hesitantly reach for them, pulling the soft fabric down ever so slowly, like you were still debating if you were loosing your mind and with it, any sense of caution.

All it would need was for one oblivious person to enter your lab and catch you with a ten feet tall recom, messing around in a workspace area that’s supposed to be clean and free of any contamination, and you would most likely loose your job and get sent back to earth within the next twenty-four hours.

But do you really want him to stop though? His velvety voice washes over you, ensnaring you in warmth, his desire, and anticipation.

You don’t want him to stop. It would kill you if he did.

Once you slipped out of your panties, Quaritch places a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down until your chest lays flat against your desk.

"Spread yourself for me." It’s an order to be obeyed directly, so you reach behind yourself, one hand on each side as you pull your cheeks apart. Your glad for the rather cold surface of the table when you rest your burning face against it, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

Behind you, Quaritch groans at the sight.

"What a cute little pussy, all pretty and pink."

You feel his eyes rake over your body, burning across your skin, drinking in the sight of you bent over for him oh so nicely and willing, entirely at his mercy. You hear him give a satisfied exhale and your flush deepens.

"Poor thing really missed me, huh? Dripping already and I haven’t even started", he laughs.

Your breath catches in your throat. You’re warm all over, particularly between your thighs, where you feel more wetness pool. It amazed you that he had this much control over you with just a few touches and some pretty woven words. His voice, his touch, the power he exudes in the air around you… it all targets you.

Ever so slowly, he then slides his middle finger between your folds, coating it in your arousal. You whimper softly, once he comes in contact with your clit. It’s a teasing touch at first, but he soon puts more pressure into it as he expertly begins to draw small circles over the little nub.

Your breath comes in quick gasps, the more Quaritch plays with your clit, and you can already feel your legs begin to tremble. Your abdomen clenches with your exasperated breathing and the throbbing between your thighs, but it’s not enough. Another whine leaves you and he chuckles deviously directly into your ear.

"So needy…", Quaritch hums, his breath hot against your skin. To your surprise, his warm, wet tongue then licks the curve of your ear, before he bites down playfully. You gasp sharply, and at the same time his middle finger moves to tease your entrance. "…and so wet for me.”

You should feel shame, you think, as you arch into the broad stroke of his palm.

"Please", you can’t even muster your own voice to have any strength to it, "please, sir. I- I need more."

And then, a single finger slides into you, answering your prayers.

Despite the ridiculous amount of slick seeping out of you, it’s a tight fit. Quaritch pushes inside with some effort, slowly sinking into your tight, wet tunnel, spreading you wide around his thick digit. It’s twice the size of a human finger, in girth and length, and you bite your lip, whimpering softly while he enters you, hands digging into your own flesh as you continue to spread yourself.

Another finger moves to roll over your clit, while he pushes inside you to the last knuckle.

"That’s it, cherry. Just like that. Look at you swallowing my finger like a good girl", Quaritch huffs out a breath, "Goddamn, your fuckin' tight."

He gives you a few second to collect yourself, let your body adjust to the unfamiliar stretch before he starts moving. Your velvety walls clamp down on his finger as he sets his pace, moving it in and out, curling it up and dragging it along your insides.

You work to steady your breathing, reveling in his touch, but the feeling of his finger moving inside you while another runs over your clit is something else. Your toes curl into your soles and you can’t hold back the moans spilling from your parted lips.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy and the delicious stretch that his rough finger bought you.

"There you go, there you fuckin' go", Quaritch groans. His fingers work relentlessly on you, somehow finding the exact spot where you craved him most. And as if the floodgates finally broke, a stream of incoherently words and syllables came out, babbling and begging as his thrusts became more rapid, the palm of his hand smacking against your folds with the sheer intensity he was suddenly finger-fucking you in.

"Oh f– please. Fucking– please", you gasp, squirming underneath the large palm that kept you pinned against the desk with enough pressure that you started to feel a little lightheaded.

"What was that?", the Colonel raised his brows, snickering at your already fucked-out state.

"I need you–", you manage to force out between wanton moans, but then you take a big, heaving breath, and your next words come out in almost a sob, "I need you to fuck me!"

There comes no response. His movement doesn’t falter either, he doesn’t slow down for even a second and you feel that familiar coil in your core tighten more and more.

"Miles–", you try to straighten up, but he pushes down on your back again. You let him push you flat against the table without putting up any sort of fight, safe for the begging of course. "Miles, please." You try to reach him by calling his name, pleading, but it’s no use.

Taking matters in your own hands, you push back against his palm, trying to roll your ass directly onto his crotch behind you. The hand that had been laying on your back moves down to your hip and tightens there, fingertips digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise. His sharp intake of air, followed by a low growl leave you momentarily satisfied, thinking you might actually get what you were begging for this whole time.

"You really are desperate.", Miles growls. Then, he pulls his finger out of your sopping hole, until only his fingertip rests inside you. It makes all hair on your body stand up straight as you wait in anticipation. But instead of drawing away entirely to replace his hand with his cock, you feel a second finger nudge past your tight entrance. You inhale sharply, feeling yourself get stretched to the absolute max as both of his thick digits enter you slowly. You nearly sob, once both of them are halfway stuffed into you, all the way in to your own physical limit.

"I thought I’d fucked an onslaught of people who topped the list of desperation, but cherry, sweet thing, I have to say–", his other hand reaches around your middle and gives your clit a light slap to emphasise his point, pushing his fingers just barely an inch further in and you whine in response, “Nobody was ever quite as pathetic or as needy as you are."

It felt like your brain was overheating, daring to melt out of your ears the moment he curled both of his digits inside you like he was beckoning to you, and then started to thrust them at a fast but steady pace.

His palm smacked against your wet folds, fingers creating loud squelching noises as he fucked you with them. The feeling of your juices running down his wrist actually had him grinning behind your back like the smug bastard that he was.

“Oh my god, don’t– don’t stop", you moan, cursing under your breath, and thank fuck he doesn’t. He fingers you in the same way you imagined he would fuck you. Hard and fast and deep enough to feel so incredibly full of him, but it only reminded you of much you actually wanted this to happen. "Yes, yes please. Please I need it, need you to fuck me, please, sir!” You cry out, cutting yourself off with a moan of his name, "Miles, Miles, please–”

You nearly scream when he pushes his digits in to the last knuckle, feeling his fingertips prod at your cervix in a means to shut you up.

"That’s not gonna happen, cherry", he forces out through gritted teeth, leaning over your much smaller frame before his tongue once again curved over the shell of your ear.

A shudder runs up the curve of your spine and you whine softly, "Wha– Why?"

"You really think you can take me? Look at you", he chuckles lowly into your ear, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body, "You’re already sobbing and I’m barely two fingers in. You couldn’t take my cock even if you weren’t a goddamn virgin."

You shook your head frantically, denying his doubt of your physical abilities. But with the way he was plunging his fingers in and out of you, the obscene sounds of slick smearing between his palm and all over your pussy, it was hard to talk back to him. Instead, you were chanting his name under your breath and it became louder and higher in pitch the closer you got to your release.

Your brain had completely checked out sometime around when your felt yourself squeeze his digits so painfully tight, it didn’t even left room for some of your slickness, so it started leaking out, running down the inside of your thighs and dribbling on the tiled floor.

Your breathing has turned rapid, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could probably even process it. With a downright embarrassing, needy voice, you began to brabble whatever nonsense came to your fucked out mind, your need for release so shamefully on display that it made him scoff.

Even though your eyes were squeezed shut, you were fighting the urge to lose consciousness. You never welcomed the cool surface of your desk against your cheek as much as right now. Your whole body felt hot, sticky with sweat and other body fluids as you went slack, only held upright by the table you were half laying on and the force of his hands on you.

"Don’t pass out on me", you distantly hear him laugh, before he delivers another slap to your clit, causing you to jolt. "You cock hungry little slut."

The heat that pooled in your stomach felt as if it would overflow soon, as if the knot that had tighten would snap any second, harder than you ever thought was possible. And then, showing more mercy to you than he probably ever had to anyone, Quaritch curls his fingers against your g-spot just right and growls,

"Come for me. Now."

#colonel miles quaritch x female reader #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #colonel miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #na'vi quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch x you #colonel quaritch #quaritch x reader #quaritch fanfic #quaritch smut #quaritch x y/n #recom quaritch #atwow quaritch #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

[marleyybluu]

Baby Daddy

Pairings: Fezco x black!reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual content, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.5k

this is from my old account too so if you see this and you're like "Hey this is familiar" its because its me babe

"When are you going to start dating again?" Kay asked her friend. YN rolled her eyes and fed her 8-month-old child a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes. "Sage can you tell your aunty I'll knock her right tooth to the left." The little girl oblivious to the conversation only whined for more food.

"Come on, look, you've been out of the dating pool since you got pregnant since you and... he who shall remain nameless-"

"Girl, just say Fez." 

"YN don't you miss having some fun, flirting with whoever just to get bored and ghost them in like a week?"

YN missed having fun in terms of going on dates with whoever she wanted to and accepting gifts from whoever gave them to her and on the occasion just having a drunken one-night stand but she was a mother now, things had been put into a different perspective. She wouldn't mind dating but she knew what it was like out there, not a lot of people were up to play step-parent or wait around until her child went to sleep.

"Or are you still hung up on you know who?"

YN's baby daddy was no stranger to being the topic of conversation, he was a steady fling— occasionally going on trips together, going to hotels, planning cute little dates, going on double dates, and he even met her parents. But something just prevented them from putting this title on things and as deep as she was falling for him she never let him know. Soon she was pregnant and they agreed to co-parent, it was all smooth sailing but watching him be a father made her yearn for a relationship with him. A solid one.

"No, I'm not still hung up on him," She lied. "Even if I was... could you blame me? I mean you saw the way he treated me as if I was his whole solar system and seeing him with Sage. It just makes everything deeper."

"You two are so complicated, you were the one who said you don't date-"

"Well, that was before I met him!" She shouted. YN took a deep breath. "Kay... you don't know how he makes me feel, gosh I mean when I was pregnant there was no hesitation he was so happy, he wanted me off my feet when I started showing, he put me on this pedestal that I don't know if anyone can make me experience again."

The doorbell rang cutting into their conversation, YN asked her friend to go answer and she did swinging the door open revealing the man of the hour as if they summoned him by accident.

"Hey, Fezco." She heard from the kitchen. "Speaking of the devil," YN muttered. Heavy footsteps trailed inside the kitchen. "Hey YN."

"Hi, Fez."

Sage instantly started to kick her feet when she saw her father come into view. "Hi, my happy baby." He cooed rubbing his nose against hers. "Well, I guess I will leave y'all alone, have some family time. I have some shopping to do."

YN wiped off her daughter's mouth and stood up leaving her with her father. "With who's money?" She asked. Kay shrugged. "Doesn't matter as long as it's not my own. See y'all later."

Kay left the house leaving YN in awkward silence. "So what are you doing here today?" She asked. "I was missing you guys, so I let Ashtray handle shit today." She took a sip of her coffee and sighed sitting around her kitchen island. "Did you eat yet?" He asked. She nodded but he stared at her longer. "Fine, no. But I'm not that hungry anyway."

"You have anything to cook?"

YN groaned. "Fez,"

"I don't want to hear it I'll make something."

There was no point in arguing with him really he would just turn around and do whatever he wanted anyway. The rest of the day was breezy, YN got to finish some work and take a nap while Fezco took care of their daughter. She sat in her playpen in front of the television watching some Bugs Bunny he had left on. YN rubbed the sleep out of her eye coming down the steps in a baggy shirt and some socks. She peeped over to see Sage engulfed in the old cartoon and decided to let her be.

She slid into the kitchen and crept behind Fez drawing a line down his back. "Hey." She smiled. "Hi, sleepyhead."

YN laughed. "Thank you for letting me have more than 15 minutes."

"Five hours should do you justice for the week." He joked. She rolled her eyes leaning on the counter to peek at what he was cooking. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this, I owe you."

He shook his head. "You're the mother of my child, carried my little girl for almost ten months, you've done everything for her. You don't owe me anything."

'Why do you have to be so nice?' She said to herself.

YN looked up at him wanting to ask something, maybe confess her feelings, but her doubt got the better of her and she only sheepishly smiled at him before heading to the living room and sitting in the large playpen with her child.

Holding up toys to her face and watching her little hands grab them only to toss them back on the floor. Florian poked his head around the corner grinning as he saw his two girls having their own fun, he tip-toed over. "Room for one more?"

"Of course."

Soon all three were in the playpen. YN felt his arm snake around her pulling her in closer to him, he kissed the top of her head. This was what she wanted, every night, with him and no one else honestly. "Dinner's ready if you're hungry."

"Mmm you know I'll never say no to food."

The three gathered around the table, Sage for her own small portion of the food. They said a little prayer before digging in. YN's eyes rolled to the back of her head. "I swear you make the best steak and potatoes oh my goodness."

"Thank you." He chuckled. The dinner was more a comfortable silence with the occasional random noise from the baby who was covered in mostly mashed potatoes. "Every time I look at her I fall more in love. She's perfect." YN mumbled.

Fez agreed. "We did a great job. Making her and raising her." YN lightly threw her napkin at him for the comment. "It's true, I know you remember." He winked taking a sip of his water. She remembered very well to the point where it would leave a heartbeat in more than one place.

Dinner was done, and Sage had been bathed and put to sleep. YN washed what dishes were left while Fez picked up the toys and packed away the playpen. It was 8 pm and though she didn't wake up too long ago she was ready to go back to sleep. "Well everything is cleaned up, guess that's my cue to go."

She frowned but kept it hidden. "Uh... okay, well thanks again for today I needed the little break."

He nodded. "No problem."

Neither wanted him to go just yet.

"I- um, what if you leave a little later... I have wine." YN felt herself becoming rosy she couldn't believe she was stumbling so much. Fez found it cute though. "Uh, I drove here."

"There's a couch... or an extra room." She flirted. He agreed to her offer setting his keys back down. His eyes were glued to her backside watching her bend down to one of the lower cabinets grabbing the liquor. "Hey there are some glasses somewhere up there can you-" She stood up catching him in the act, her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Glasses right?" Fez didn't need much of a stretch to collect the glasses. "If we really wanna keep her sleeping we could go in the basement."

"Lead the way."

YN stepped downstairs hearing the door quietly close behind her, she stopped in her tracks seeing the tent made of blankets that she set up one night with Kay. "That's cute." He chuckled. Drinks were poured while they sat up in the tent. "Cheers to a parent's night in." She giggled. "I'll drink to that."

YN picked a movie and laid back against some pillows that were stacked but she felt herself being pulled once again into Fezco's hold, he rested his head on her thighs and she smiled lightly scratching his head with her acrylic nails knowing that was what he liked. As the movie played and more drinks were poured she started to feel the buzz, she couldn't handle liquor like she use to— tingles ran through every inch of her body as her temperature rose.

Fez was feeling the same way, his fingers running up and down her thighs. By this time they switched positions and were both laying down with her as the little spoon. She, not so subtly, pushed back against his crotch her eyes widening feeling his already hard member poking through. His hand moved from her thighs up her torso and under her shirt, his lips pressed against the back of her neck.

"I miss you." He mumbled. She shook her head at the drunken confession. "Mmm, you had too much wine." She hiccuped. "So? A drunk man's words... have... thoughts." YN fell into a fit of laughter. "What the hell was thaaat!?"

He only shook his head, his glossy eyes analyzed her every feature, the little dots of freckles spread across her skin, her full lips forming into a smile. "Fezzy..." She whispered.

"YN." He whispered back. Her low eyes fixated on his full beard. "Do you miss life before Sage?" She wondered. He disagreed. "I love her too much to turn back the clock you know?"

"Mhm."

He closed his eyes. "I miss how close we were though. I miss taking you on dates and shit. I miss pretending like we were in a relationship." 

YN ran her thumb over his cheek. "I think you were the only one I wanted a real relationship with," She admitted. "Why do you think I trapped you?" 

"Shut up." He mumbled pulling her face closer until their lips touched for the first time in quite a long time and it was a feeling that was well overdue. Soon the movie was just background noise, clothes were coming off piece by piece, kisses filling in their places, and warm hands exploring their bodies like it was the first time they met. YN wrapped her legs around his hips, her nails digging into his soft flesh, her soft moans caressing his ear. 

He grunted burying his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder leaving kisses behind. "Oh my goodness... Fez." She breathlessly whispered while tapping his back. "Oh, baby I'm gonna cum." 

His tongue slithered against her warm neck tasting her salty skin, sweat coating both bodies. "Cum for me, please cum for me, baby." 

Yn felt her legs loosen their grip allowing him to thrust harder, she let out a long groan her nails sliding down his back leaving faint red trails. Her orgasm took over her whole body causing her to shake and shiver, to reach down between them in a weak attempt to push him off but he wasn't going anywhere he loved watching her mouth form that 'O' shape, his name repeatedly slipping from her, her perfect eyebrows coming closer together, the eye contact was the cherry on top of it all. 

"Shit." She giggled out of breath. "You okay?" He chuckled passing his thumb over her chin. "Yes." Her cheeks started to feel warm. 

Fez rolled over on his back letting out an exhausted sigh picking up the phone to check the time. "1 am, wow."  He put the phone down seeing Yn now on top of him her hands laying on his chest, her soaked pussy sliding against his shaft, she whimpered at her sensitive clit's contact with the vein he had poking out. She lifted her hips taking his dick into the palm of her hand so it stood straight up and slowly sank down on it. 

"Baby..." He moaned feeling engulfed in her warmth and slickness. "Can't take anymore?" She flirted rotating her hips. "Mmm don't start that, I always make you tap out." 

YN didn't answer only lifted back up to his tip and carefully back down, she repeated her actions until she was comfortable enough to go a bit faster. She rode that man like a horse, helped that he was hung like one too, his hands had a hard grip on her cheeks spanking them once in a while hard enough in the hopes to leave a print. She leaned down resting her upper body on his and still moving up and down on him. "Fuck it's so deep." She muttered. "Yeah?" Fez wrapped his arms around her waist holding her down, he began to match her motions. 

"Ouu I- mmm fuck I hate that." She giggled knowing she felt the complete opposite. Soon her body gave out letting Fez take over with his relentless pounding, she whimpered reaching back to push against his thighs but was denied when he collected her arm trapping it under his initiating the same on the other side. "Take that shit, I told you I always make you tap out." 

She really had no choice but to lay on his chest she wiggled her upper body as much as she could but there was no point. "Fezzz." She whined, her eyes falling to the back of her head. "I'm gonna cum YN." 

"Cum in me daddy, please." 

Fez felt her pulsing around him only for it to trigger his own orgasm, his thrusts became slow and sloppy as he emptied himself inside of her. He released his grip on her leaving her to lay lifelessly on her, out of breath, officially tapped out for the night. "You telling me to cum in you will never get old."

She smirked. "It won't be the last time either." 

The moment was interrupted by their original outcome from the last time she made that statement, baby cries over the monitor that YN had left in the basement because she always forgot the other one upstairs. "And there she goes." 

YN cleaned up from the sink nearby and stole Fezco's shirt to cover her body. "Really?" 

"Yuuup." She laughed running up the stairs to her daughter's room to see the infant kicking and wailing. "Okaaay mama I'm here." 

She sighed carrying her back to the master bedroom seeing Fez in his boxers laying on her sheets. "I don't think she's hungry, just fussy." He watched as she carefully laid down with the baby laying on her chest. He scooted over to get closer and kissed her cheek, he placed his hand on Sage's back as she slowly calmed down and was soon back to being quiet.  

"I love you guys." 

Yn looked over at him. "We love you too." 

don't we love when she posts on a random day in the week after saying she only does weekends? lol

New Rio fics dropping this weekend fr tho and if I don't do it shiiiiiit don't shoot the messenger

taking a break from Miss Ivy (but if you are a curious cat and would like to take a read come through) and diving back into my other boys

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs help and are very appreciated each time (even tho tumblr wont let me respond to comments for some stupid reason.)

Be cool🤙🏾

#fezco euphoria #fez fanfic #fluff #bwwmromance #euphoria fanfic #fezco fic #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #black!reader #fez x reader #smut #euphoria smut #fezco smut

[fillinforlater]

Blonde: Chapter III

Female Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 2500 words

Tags: angst/fluff, another bad day, losing your dignity, illness, someone who cares, there is a fever dream, Gaeul's relationship, struggling with your identity, we got a twist at the end

Inspiration: "Why Am I Like This?" by Orla Gartland

(A/N: Finally, another chapter to this slowly developing plot. I jope you enjoy it. @firagaarmor for obvious reasons)

"Didn't you say 108,000?"

"No, sir, it's 180,500 won."

"Oh, I see."

The old, fragile fingers of this confused, bald man creep back into his purse, trying to find another bill in what is probably a maze of money and plastic cards for him. You wouldn’t mind it one bit, you get paid either way and on usual nights, traffic is so little that barely anyone else gets inconvenienced. However, tonight is rather unusual. Apparently everyone forgot something and is now in a haste to buy said something. There is a long line of impatient stressed moms, annoyed teenagers and everything in between or beyond showing or voicing their disapproval.

It’s not you, you’re not the cause for their stress and discomfort, yet the customer’s toxicity still flies to you like you’re some kind of magnet. It all comes back to stab you, with passive-aggressive remarks or the glances up and down your small frame. Doesn’t really help that you only had cold ramen noodles, sweets and a little bit of bread in the past five days and that the ice cold showers make your nose itch with an impending cold. God, you must look pathetically miserable, even for your standards.

After the man finally gets his cash together, the checkouts are fast, heartless, and your heart aches for her to be at the end of the line. Gaeul—with her bright hair and even brighter smile to greet you when she is out buying drinks again—she could really save this evening. You yearn for her encouragement and presence more than for the next hot meal. Maybe even more than for the next two hot meals. 

But there is no blonde angel to save you tonight. With the last customer buying their groceries, the lights die one by one, leaving you in a mostly empty store, alone with thousands and thousands of tasty and not-so-tasty products you’d love to put into a pan and fry. The thuds of your sneakers on the floor almost drown out the grumble in your stomach or the sniffling of your nose as you walk into yet another cold night with nothing to look forward to. 

I fucking hate this shit. 

#

You want to vomit, throw yourself off your bed, tear every single strand of your dark hair out as you dial your mother's number again. You hope it’s over quickly, but one can never know with her, especially if she still stubbornly refuses to help you. Take deep breaths, try to keep your head straight though thinking has become more and more exhaustive with every calorie you’re missing. 

“What is it?” your mother groans, though you find her tone to be a lot more amused than last time. Someone is cheering and laughing in the background, drowning out even the loud TV. 

“The bills, mom. I still have no electricity, no hot water, no heater.”

“Oh right.”

A response colder than your room. You try to straighten your back to speak to her loud and clear, with at least some authority, but you feel yourself crumble when the clanking of bottles loudly booms through the speaker.

“Did… did your boss finally pay you?” you carefully ask, earning an immediate response.

“Yes, he did.”

“Then why didn’t you pay the bills?”

Silence, except for the crime drama running in the back, finding all the suspects and then the killer, as they always do. This case right here is totally clear, no one needs to investigate for more than five minutes to find out that she is at fault, yet it feels like you're on trial, awaiting your parole, which for some reason is still in the balance.

“You know, sweetheart,” your mother cheekily responds, her saliva loudly flopping around in her mouth, mixed with the disgusting flavor of cigarettes and beer. “I really worked hard for that money. It’s my money. In the end I can decide what happens with it.”

Oh God, don’t do that, please for the love of—and don’t call me sweetheart.

“You can’t be serious,” you barely chirp out, your heart throbbing, crumbling like your entire body as you can see your entire foundation, the fragile remains of your fake stability finally falter. You can never cover all of your expenses with this one job and you can’t quit school now, not after getting so close to finally finishing it. You need her money and she seems to finally use it against you.

“It’s just the truth,” she responds nonchalantly, her voice a lot lighter and higher in pitch than usual. You hear someone cackle in the background.

“Sweetheart.

Don’t call me that.

“How about you—

Don’t do this.

“—start begging for my money. C’mon! Get on your knees and beg for it! I’m tired of funding your lazy, incompetent lifestyle. You should be so grateful for my throwing money at you all these years. 

“I didn’t hear you! Get your lazy ass out of your bed now, and on your damn knees.

“Beg for it.”

Laughter from behind her. It's not the TV.

#

A hot shower, warm noodles, a cozy bed—they never felt so wrong, so disgusting. Even as your life objectively improves, it feels horrible, like you had to sell yourself and your soul for it to happen.

Your knees are still drawn to the floor. You might sit in a chair, listen to teachers all day or sit at the checkout, pulling items over the scanner, your knees still feel like they should get on the floor and beg.

Please let me pass.

Please give me more money.

Please leave me alone.

Please ignore my embarrassing existence.

"Hey."

"Uhhh, good evening, ma'a—Gaeul?"

Gaeul's dainty fingers catch your shoulders as you slump forward, against the checkout counter and almost fold over. Your body, devoid of energy, loses all tension.

“Hey, hey,” Gaeul calls out to you, and like the caring mother you never had, the warm palm of her hand cups your forehead. “Oh lord, you’re so hot! You’re definitely sick, what are you doing here?”

“I-I have to work,” you respond, a wave of something hot and heavy pressing down on your brain. This lava burns itself into you and makes every thought process excruciatingly hard. You haven’t even noticed it until now. “I’m not sick, every-thing is fine.”

Your smile is weak, dozy and fake, it cannot fool Gaeul a bit. Her beautiful face falls into deep wrinkles of worry as you can barely lift yourself out of her supporting arms. There is an awkward pause between the two of you, only interrupted by another customer clearing their throat. You try to get back to scanning, but one of Gaeul’s cans slips through your fingers a couple of times.

“I don’t think you should do this,” Gaeul says quietly, softly. “You don’t need to prove your toughness, it’s okay to be sick for a few days. I think your boss will understand.”

“Really, Gaeul, I’m okay.” The final can, straight into the blonde’s bag. Through your blurry eyes you can barely make out the color of her jacket, or sweater, or whatever it is—either way, it definitely suits her. “Thanks for worrying though.”

#

Why did I push her away like this? Why didn’t I listen to her? Why am I always like this?

Everything is hot and everything is cold. You need another jacket or the cold will get worse, but it simultaneously feels like you could die from overheating if you don’t start throwing away layer after layer of clothes. The way your body feels is close to how the inner mechanisms in your brain work in this fever haze. There is nothing, no thought, no conclusion, nothing that matters—yet everything is suddenly relevant.

Objects and details you’ve never actively released before come into focus of your decreasing sight, that one tile in the corner, just as dirty and unspecial as the rest, the second package of gum, purple and pink, the spooky hum when the door opens that never appears when it closes. So you stumble out of the store, tripping over your feet until the fever finally strikes you down.

The concrete, its gray color, is darker the colder it gets. It’s also harder, torturous to lay upon, scorching hot skin on freezing tarmac. Suddenly, brand new sneakers, black and white, small feet, about as small as your own, though they could be—

“Oh my God!”

—a bit bigger, judging by the length of the stockings covered legs that—

“Here, I’ll help you”

—disappear in a plaid skirt, above a combo of thick winter jacket and—

“I knew this was bad. Taxi!”

—a girl, whose hair is both silver and golden, a blonde close to whiteness, nonetheless it looks like a crown adorning and framing her perfectly formed features.

Gaeul.

#

You’re lost in a dream. A school full of students, their ages varying drastically and you do not recognize a single face. The teachers seem a lot more familiar, though they float through the room carelessly, gravity not applying to them. In fact, gravity only applies to you, as the rest of the students fly around the room with their chairs and desks.

A frame of an angel, her hands brushing your cheek, scorching hot, so she puts a wet towel on your face. That’s so nice of her, you must be sick. Sick or not, you cannot miss the day you go to the zoo with the floating class.

The zoo is filled with people, nothing but people. People that look at odd people. Those that have to stand on one leg, those that can’t talk properly, those who like weird things. You can hear your whole class laugh hysterically at all of them, so weird, so wrong, nothing better than to laugh at sickos and be glad that you’re not one of them.

“Uhm, hi.” A voice in the far background, damp, behind a shut door. “Care to explain why you have another girl in your bed?”

You feel like you have to explain yourself, but words are nothing more than concepts in your head, also the zoo is calling, you have to watch the lively corpses float through the water tanks. Luckily, someone speaks for you. The angel.

“She’s a friend and she is sick. That’s all there is to it, Yujin.”

"Oh, really?" The other voice is skeptical, eyebrows raised and she looks for a clever response. “I guess she got sick while laying in your bed? Gaeul, don’t lie to me, okay? Just be straightforward with me.”

“I—” the angel stutters and falls silent. You however found a new enclosure in this zoo which stretches in all directions. This one is rather empty and the enclosure is also no enclosure, just a mirror with a writing above it: ‘Sicko girls that like other girls’.

The reflection is you, of course, in all your—

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” The other voice, now a tall woman of incredible beauty, twirls a couple of golden strands of the angel and tugs them behind her ear with a weak—dishonest, you feel—smile. “The long hair suited you better. I really liked that.”

“I know, Yujin.”

The reflection is you, in all your fault and imperfection, far from perfection and any heavenly being. You are no angel, just a sicko girl that likes girls—and the whole class is laughing.

#

You open your eyes, but the aching, hot pain in your temple and a heavy, wet towel on top of it make actually seeing, realizing anything a pain in the ass. Just the outline of a small face looking down on you, very familiar, very pretty—oh, what a relief to have Gaeul be the first thing you see.

“Wh-where am I?” you ask past dry lips.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Gaeul turns around and quickly reaches for a bottle of water. “Here, drink this, your body needs a lot of water now. You’re in my—my friend's apartment.”

“Damn, then it must have been real fucking bad—”

You cover your mouth, realizing your loud curse in a foreign room, foreign bed, where are your manners, they might have foreign customs. Gaeul’s eyes fall shut when she begins to lightly chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, she’s not here right now,” Gaeul says. “You’re all good. B-but you can’t stay here forever. Just rest up and—you have somewhere to stay, right?”

You carefully remove the towel from your face, catching all the drops running down your forehead as you think about home, your home, finally warm because you threw away your dignity. You’d love to not go there, tear up the contract for rent and run away to something new—into independence.

“Yeah, yup, I—I have a place, don’t worry. Sorry for all the trouble, fuck, I don’t even remember what—I did it again.”

Now Gaeul is holding her stomach, laughing, hitting the blanket that covers your legs and you join her. Though you might sit upright, you feel like falling over, the dizziness, Gaeul’s laugh, they make you feel like you’re still in that dream with the angel. The angel, so ethereal, but made fragile by this voice. A woman.

Suddenly, yours and Gaeul’s face are almost touching, her arms are on your shoulders, yours on her side, her petite frame is in your palm. The laughs have faded, smiles remain but you feel your heart racing. The smile fades and you’re tense. Gaeul is right there and she is so, so pretty.

“You sure you’re alright?” Gaeul asks as she sees your blush. You blush even more and avert your eyes.

“Y-yeah, thank you. You helped a lot. But—

“—are you okay too, Gaeul?”

That’s a smile full of uncertainty, a hint of anger, a glow of hurt. Gaeul’s eyes sparkle and you’d love to blow some life into them. Even better, all the love you have for her, you want to pour it into her and give her power. But no, you have no idea nor any plan to do such a thing. So it’s Gaeul who helps you out of the bed and hands you one of her sweatshirts that isn’t drenched in sweat.

“You are the one with a fever, I’m as healthy as ever!” Gaeul is so bright and her smile shines like a star. In a different universe, she is already a celebrity with a perfect red carpet smile. Fake.

“I didn’t mean that.” In a surge of confidence and worry, you reach for Gaeul’s hand and everything's in slow motion. “I-I’m scared that you’re not happy, that something isn’t right, that—Gaeul, I heard you talk to your friend and she seemed—”

“Look, I—she isn’t my friend.”

Gaeul looks at you. 

“She is my girlfriend.”

Gaeul still looks at you. Now it’s your turn to fake a smile and get it over with.

...

(A/N2: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more chapters, though it will take time until the next release)

#kpop fluff #gaeul fluff #ive fluff #female idol fluff #female reader #female reader fluff #kpop angst #gaeul angst #ive angst

[seresinhangmanjake]

Oh Wow

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake sees you for the first time and his life is never the same again.

Warnings: Allusion to smut, kinda (not w/reader). Cursing. Mention of alcohol.

Notes: Flashback part of the Oh, Baby Universe, but can definitely be read alone. 

Words: 1900

Jake watched you through the mass of people. Every move you made. The shape of your lips as you spoke to other patrons. The uncertainty in your choices as you attempted to fill orders. He’d never seen you before, but wherever you came from, you sure as hell weren’t a bartender. You clearly had little idea of what you were doing, but the smile on your face hiding the hint of nerves was charming enough to distract anyone. Whether approaching you for alcohol or a moment of your attention, people suddenly found themselves incredibly patient. He noticed you adding a bit too much whiskey to an Old Fashioned that made the man asking for it nearly choke, and so much syrup to a cocktail that the drinker would undoubtedly get a sugar rush, but the receivers of both grinned through the mistakes, winked at you, and eventually came back for more. 

You were something else; that was undeniable. And whatever power you had over everyone extended to Jake the moment he laid eyes on you. It floated over and wrapped itself around him in a neatly tied little bow that he had zero intention of undoing. It kept him tethered to his spot, allowing him to have a clear view of you and forcing him to leave his friends in the back of his mind. They gave him questioning looks, but he didn’t care. He’d never before yearned and craved as instantly as he did when he saw you. 

"This is the first time I've ever witnessed you giving all of your attention to a woman who hasn't even bothered to notice you yet,” Rooster said, coming up beside him. "It's interesting. Refreshing.” He took a sip of his beer, obnoxiously smacking his lips as he savored the amber liquid. "A nice change of pace, you know?"

Teasing was inevitable. As the night carried on Jake had heard his teammates’ snickers gather in frequency—something he wasn’t known for letting them get away with, especially after such an exhausting workday, but his sour mood flipped after stepping into the bar and he easily let it all go. 

Rooster kept speaking, but Jake only found it to be an irritating buzz in his ear that was unsuccessful in getting him to tear his gaze away from the woman before him. "Do you know much about her?"

Rooster playfully scoffed at the interruption. "She's only been working here a few nights. Penny hired her last week,” he informed Jake. "She's new in town. Real sweet thing."

You suddenly laughed, head thrown back in unrestrained joy, and Jake swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. His peripherals saw Rooster’s head make a quick turn as if he knew how that melodic sound would affect him. How it would impact his pulse, the blood rushing through his veins, adding a pink tinge to his cheeks. 

The other pilot blew out a breath. “Well shit, man. Did you already pick out your future kids' names?"

"Shut up."

"China patterns?"

"Leave me alone."

Rooster’s lips pressed together in a hum. He didn’t show any indication of doing as Jake demanded, so Jake figured he’d use him as long as he might still be useful.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked. He hadn't realized how badly he needed your name; how desperate he was for it. Might have begged for it if Rooster wouldn’t give it over.

“You’ve got children and a china pattern and you don’t even know her name? A bit backwards, don’t you think?”

Jake finally tore his eyes away from you just to shoot Rooster the glare he deserved. “I’m never saving your life again.”

“Well, if that’s going to be your attitude then you can just ask her yourself.” He raised a dark brow in challenge. Rooster knew, just as Jake did, that he’d never looked at a woman the way he looked at you. That changed the game. Caused his confidence to stutter. 

But he managed to calmly, evenly say, "Fine. I will.”

And he would…eventually.

—-

Approaching you wasn’t one of the simpler tasks Jake had faced in his life but he mustered the will nonetheless, taking step after step until he was directly in front of you. Only two feet of cherry wood bartop kept you out of arms reach, and goddamn, did he wish it wasn't there so he could reach out, touch you, feel you. 

It had grown late without him noticing. The crowd had died down and you immediately took note of him, looking up to meet his stunned stare. If he thought you were beautiful from afar, up close…up close you were otherworldly, and Jake was thankful he hadn’t attempted to speak because there was no way he would have been able to keep from choking on his first word. 

“Hi,” you said, smiling wide, your eyes bright. His heart clenched. “What can I get you?”

“Uh…” Right. He was supposed to want something. Well, he did want something, but not to drink. “Just a beer. Please.”

He hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tense, high up to your ears until they relaxed. Your chest deflated. “Oh, thank god.”

“Long night?”

"You could say so." You reached below the bar to grab a glass, asked him his preference, and began to fill it before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone,” you said, “but I’m not very good at this.”

The honesty was wildly endearing. He couldn’t help but grin and shake his head as the apparent ease of speaking with you settled a blanket of comfort over him. Leaning forward and resting his forearms across the bar, he said, “Nah, don’t worry Honey, you’re doing fine.”

You placed the glass in front of him, curiosity swirling in your gaze. “You’ve been watching me?”

Then Jake’s spine immediately straightened like someone had shoved a wooden board up the back of his shirt. The nerves he thought he’d freed made themselves known once again. He cleared his throat to buy time in searching for an excuse to have been staring at you all night, but you saved him from having to find one.

“I’m just teasing,” you chuckled. “And don’t worry about your future drinks. I plan to do a lot of practicing, so I’ll be a pro in no time. I promise.”

Jake released his held breath. Fuck, he liked you. He liked you and it took next to nothing to have him falling into an emotional well he wouldn’t so simply climb his way out of. 

He extended his hand your way. “I’m Jake,” he started, “Seresin.”

Your palm slid against his. Soft. So damn soft. He held onto you for as long as he could, and you didn’t seem in any hurry to pull away, but eventually you did with a blush spreading over your cheeks. You gave him your name. It was perfect; beautiful. Everything about you was so, so beautiful. 

“So you're Jake Seresin,” you said, unraveling the thread of tension. “Well, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“You know me?”

“Of you,” you confirmed. “I’ve heard a bit from Penny’s nephew and one or two of the other bartenders.”

Jake internally groaned. Rooster and past flings were not where he wanted you gathering your information. Of anyone—anyone—in the state of California to speak on his behalf, they were not likely to do so highly. Rooster was, well…Rooster, and those other bartenders were participants in a past experience that, while a truly unique time, Jake had tried to put far behind him after upsetting them by denying their offer for a repeat performance. 

With a sigh, he said, “Whatever they told you, it’s all lies.”

“Is that right?” you asked, crossing your arms. “So you’re not one of the best pilots this country has to offer?”

Alright, that one he didn’t expect. Maybe he’d be buying his friend a few of your signature questionable drinks in the near future. 

“And you’re not a good kisser?”

Oh, God. His eyelids pinched briefly. That required more of an explanation. “Um…ok so—” Your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal a giggle and all embarrassment sloughed away from Jake’s body. A grin took its place. You were a damn angel for taking information like that and making light of it to alleviate any discomfort. "I take it back. You’ve been talking to the most honest people you’ll ever come by.”

You laughed again and you really had to stop doing that because it was pulling him apart piece by piece and turning him into a mass of mush on the floor. 

“I hope the same can be said for you,” you smirked. “If I ever look bad or something, be sure to let me know.”

“Honey, you’ve never looked bad a day in your life. I guarantee it.”

It was out of his mouth so quickly. The amusement in your eyes fell to something deeper as the curve of your lips settled into a gentle part, a perfect space slightly separating them; enough for his tongue to slip between if he ever had the chance to kiss you. Eyes connected, boring into one another and once again surfacing that lovely tension. 

He could stay there for ages if he wasn’t so concerned with what was passing through your mind. But he’d never know, because with a few rapid flutters of your eyelids and a sift of your fingers through your hair, that tension—those tight threads weaving throughout his stomach and chest—snapped. 

Your tongue darted out to dampen your lips. “Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin.”

“Anything.”

You leaned over the bar a bit and he did the same; drawn forward by your magnetic pull. 

Looking away from him, you swallowed as if weighing the words you planned to give him. Then your eyes flitted up to his. “Do you come here as often as your teammates?”

Whatever you had debated speaking aloud no longer mattered because what came out of those pillowy lips was so much better than anything he had mentally prepared himself for. Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin…are you normally this forward? This aggressive? This cocky that you could pathetically flirt with a woman like me? But no, you were asking him what he did, how he spent his time, maybe, just maybe, hoping he’d spend more of it in your presence. 

“Would you like me to come here often?” he asked. No playfulness behind the question, but a genuine need to hear your agreement. Just an inkling that you wanted him around as much as he wanted to be around you. 

“I would.” You gave a nod. “If I’m honest, Jake, I'd like to have someone—a friend.”

A friend. A friend he could be. I’d be anything for you, he found himself thinking before he could absorb how needy that made him sound. But he was needy. He wanted more. He’d always want more. The little you’d given him since he approached you was like tossing crumbs to a starving man. 

“Then, Honey,” Jake said, his lips peeled back in a broad grin, “you’ve got yourself a friend.”

And one day, maybe it would be more. 

 ----

tags: @wkndwlff​ @genius2050​ @sagittarius-flowerchild​ @dempy​ @oliviah-25​ @rosiahills22​ @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life​ 

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

Take My Hand, We'll Be Fine (Promise I Won't Let You Down)

A/N: did you really think I could go all of @sjmromanceweek without posting some Nessian? I just think there's no better romantic gesture than telling your hot neighbor to dump her piece of shit boyfriend, ya know? 😉 Special shout-out to @dustjacketmusings for giving me this prompt!

Read on AO3

They’re fighting again.

Cassian swipes up his television remote from his coffee table, muting the game currently playing. He doesn’t even need to prick his ears or listen closely to make out the muffled voices filtering through the wall to his right. Doesn’t need to try hard to recognize the rough, clipped voice and the more feminine, cool tone that answers. He can’t quite make out the words being said, but it’s easy enough to guess. It doesn’t help that this is practically the norm for the apartment next to his.

He still remembers the first time he met his next door neighbor, Nesta Archeron, the day she moved in. Even in that moment, even with her hair messy, her cheeks pink, and a large box hefted in her arms, she had been the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen in his life. Her face was all sharp, beautiful lines, high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. Her eyes had been a stormy, piercing blue that had enraptured him as soon as their gazes met. Her pretty pink lips twisting into a scowl had him wanting to drop to his knees right there in the hall, fire blazing through his chest to meet that expression.

Could anyone really blame him for being a goner from that moment on?

He’d found any and every excuse to see her again, to talk to her again. Casual run-ins in the hall, in the lobby. Getting the mail at the same time. Going down to the laundry room at the same time. Anything to see her roll her eyes at him. To see her give that expression that he’s deemed her I Will Slay My Enemies look. Anything for the game of back and forth he built with her full of quips and retorts that always leave him wanting more.

Anything to see her smile. To hear that beautiful breathy melody of her laugh. To watch the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. To catch that softness that takes over when she talks about her friends or her family. Every tiny piece she hands over Cassian tucks away close to his heart. And every interaction, no matter how small, no matter how much time passes in between, leaves him yearning for more.

And he’s learned a lot about Nesta through those interactions. He learned that she has two sisters, one who lives in the city and another who lives in the countryside. He learned she’s a damn good lawyer and definitely his first call if he ever needs to be bailed out of jail. He learned that she’s a terrible cook and has a serious affinity for ordering takeout most nights. He learned that she has a serious book addiction if the endless bookstore packages are any indication.

And he learned that she has the worst boyfriend Cassian has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Cassian still isn’t sure how Tomas was able to get a woman as beautiful and as amazing as Nesta to agree to a single date with his sorry ass, let alone agree to be his girlfriend. The bastard clearly doesn’t know what he has, how lucky he is. That a woman like Nesta Archeron is incomparable. And yet, Cassian has seen the way his eyes have wandered to the blonde in 4C’s ass. Has witnessed the unimpressed, bored expression he wears when Nesta is speaking. Has heard the unnecessarily rude and sometimes cruel words he flings carelessly at Nesta.

The last one in particular always has Cassian’s blood boiling, dark tendrils constricting through his chest until he’s glaring daggers at the man in question any time he sees him in the apartment building. He wishes he and Nesta were more than just neighbors just so he could tell her what a piece of shit her boyfriend is. Wishes it wouldn’t be weird if he suggested she dump him.

He wishes he could tell her how he really feels, how he swears he’s already falling for her despite their limited interactions. How he fears that there will never be anyone else for him. Wishes he could show her what it’s like to be with a real man, one who respects her. One who genuinely cares about her and isn’t afraid to show her, to shout it from the rooftops. He’d treat her right, treat her so much better than Tomas ever could.

A door slams next door, and Cassian is on his feet in a moment. He glances around his apartment, looking for something he can quickly grab as an excuse. The last time he had heard a crash come from next door, his worry and concern had consumed him enough to send him propelling out of his own apartment and banging his fist against Nesta’s door. But things had been awkward and tense when Nesta answered the door seemingly alright, and when Tomas demanded to know what he was doing, Cassian had ended up stumbling over his words, too distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes swimming with questions. So this time, Cassian ties off his half full trash bag and hauls it up out of the bin.

“Will you hurry up?” Tomas’s voice reaches Cassian as he yanks open his front door. “You know that I don’t like to be late to Sullivan’s, or else we won’t get the best seats at the bar.”

“Maybe if we went to a proper restaurant where you can make a reservation instead of the same dive bar every week, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Nesta answers him, and even before he lays eyes on her, Cassian can perfectly picture the way she must be rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long doing your stupid fucking hair–”

Tomas’s words trail off when he notices Cassian standing in his now open doorway. Already, the man looks annoyed at his presence, jaw clenching with a restraint scowl. The sight has an easy smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, how fast he’s able to garner such a reaction, but he only has eyes for Nesta.

She has on a short, dark blue dress, black flower lace overlaid on the silky fabric. Black heeled boots further elongate her legs and the skin on display, the tantalizing lines of her collarbones highlighted by the dress’s neckline. Her hair is styled in her preferred braided crown, but a few strands curl around her temples and frame her face, and Cassian knows he’d give anything to curl one of those strands around his finger. With the pink dusted across her cheeks and mascara heightening the icy blue of her eyes, he has to swallow hard and clear his throat before finding his voice again, struck dumb by the beauty of her in front of him.

“Nesta,” Cassian greets, finally flicking his gaze back to the other man in the hall. “Tommy.”

“It’s Tomas,” Tomas snaps back, his sneer only deepening when Cassian shrugs in response. “What are you even doing?”

Cassian’s smile is all mocking and teeth, holding up the trash back in his hands. “Just taking out the trash. Maybe Nesta should consider doing the same.”

Whether Tomas understands the double meaning or not, Cassian doesn’t get a chance to find out. Nesta steps forward, linking her arm with her boyfriend’s with a quiet, murmured reminder that they’re running late. They continue down the hall, Cassian watching them until they vanish around the corner, until he hears the quiet ding of the elevator.

He closes his front door with a soft sigh, glancing consideringly back toward his television still playing the game, but then an idea hits him. It’s a risk, most definitely stupid, but maybe he’s always been a bit reckless. Rushing back toward his living room, Cassian grabs his phone where he left it, opening up the text chain with his family.

Anyone down for drinks tonight? Found a new bar we should try

~ * * * ~

Sullivan’s isn’t much to write home about as far as bars go. Posters and photos litter almost every free inch of space on the walls, a pool table set up to the right, and round high top tables and bar stools arranged around the rest of the space. The bar juts out from the wall in the center of the room, bottles lining the shelves. It may be the nicest dive bar Cassian has ever set foot in, but it’s still a dive bar, the stench of beer and sweat heavy.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Azriel sighs from Cassian’s right.

Cassian turns toward his brother, but Azriel’s attention is elsewhere. When Cassian follows his gaze, he finds Nesta and Tomas sitting at one of the high top tables. Her back is ramrod straight, fingers curled tightly around the glass of wine sitting primly in front of her, but Tomas doesn’t seem to notice. He sips casually from a beer bottle, his attention focused more on the patrons around him.

“Isn’t that your neighbor?” Mor pipes up from Cassian’s left. “The one you’re in love with?”

“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asks innocently, refusing to meet either Azriel or Mor’s gaze. “What are the odds of that?”

“If I’m playing wingman tonight, you owe me so many drinks,” Azriel grumbles with a shake of his head.

“Drinks on Cassian?” Mor teases, looping her arm with Azriel’s and dragging him toward the bar. “I like the sound of that. Let’s order all top shelf.”

Cassian rolls his eyes good naturedly, but he follows behind his family, buying the first round of drinks after all. He lets Azriel and Mor get settled, lets them chat about their respective weeks and jobs, and all the while, he stares across the bar at Nesta and Tomas. He doesn’t understand how anyone can sit across from Nesta Archeron and ignore her. How they can want to do anything other than bask in her presence. How they could care more about a freshly out of college girl clearly working the pool table just for free drinks.

“So, I need a favor,” Cassian begins, interjecting into the conversation swirling around him.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” Azriel remarks dryly.

“Very funny,” Cassian fires back, turning his attention to Mor and offering the blonde his best, most winning smile. “I need you to go flirt with that guy over there.”

“Seriously, Cass?” Mor huffs, her face exasperated.

“Please? I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night. The best wine they have. However many glasses you want. Especially if you can somehow make an accident happen that gets him away from the table.”

Mor narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him, her eyes dancing briefly toward the table across the bar. “This Nesta better be worth it.”

“Trust me,” Cassian assures her quietly, unable to stop from smiling. “She is.”

Cassian isn’t sure what Mor sees on his face, but her expression softens. She rolls her eyes fondly and swipes up her glass of wine, slipping off her bar stool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strides her way over to Nesta and Tomas, plastering on a wide, flirtatious smile. It’s certainly entertaining for Cassian, watching his friend work. She twirls the blonde strands of hair around her fingers, places her hand on Tomas’s arm, makes a big show of laughing loudly at whatever is said. It would almost be comical if Tomas wasn’t eating up every second.

“Come on, Mor,” Cassian mumbles under his breath. “Hurry it up, already.”

“You really need all the help you can get, don’t you?” Azriel sighs, setting his now finished drink on the bartop.

Azriel steps around Cassian and heads toward the table as well. He makes eye contact with Mor, some sort of silent agreement passing between the two, and then Azriel is walking behind her. His arm brushes along her back, Mor’s cue to fake stumbling forward a step, her half full glass of wine spilling right across Tomas’s shirt and pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tomas’s voice carries even to where Cassian is sitting. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

Tomas storms off toward the bathrooms, Mor hot on his heels and offering overly innocent apologies. She winks at Cassian as they pass, and Cassian has to stifle a laugh into his hand to keep Tomas from noticing him. One last glance to make sure Tomas is gone and the coast is clear, and Cassian wastes no time cutting his way across the bar and sliding into the now vacated seat across from Nesta.

“Some date, huh?” Cassian jokes lightly, Nesta’s attention snapping to him.

“Cassian… what are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Cassian swears he sees Nesta’s shoulders start to relax from where they’re pitched up near her ears, swears he sees what looks suspiciously like relief flood through her eyes. He lets it fuel the hope swarming and twisting in his gut, the warmth blooming between his ribs and tightening around his heart like a golden thread. He knows he could easily play the whole thing off as a coincidence, shrug the question away with mentions of his family and their drinking habits.

But he knew the gamble he was taking by crashing Nesta’s date tonight, and maybe, this is his chance. His chance to show Nesta just how much she already means to him. To prove to her that he can treat her better.

“Your boyfriend sucks,” Cassian says rather than answer her question.

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, eyebrows pinching slightly. “What?”

“Tomas. He sucks ass, and you should absolutely dump him. I’m serious, Nes. You deserve so much better than his sorry excuse.”

“You seem quite sure of that, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. I might not have known you very long, but I know that you’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re witty and passionate, and you care so much about your sisters and your friends. And you deserve someone who cherishes you. You can do so much better than that piece of shit.”

Cassian’s words hang in the space between them, the rest of the bar fading away into nothing until it’s just him and her and the sparks and electricity charging the air around them. Nesta stares at him like she’s never seen him before, like no one’s ever said things like that to her before. It sends cracks ricocheting like icy claws through his chest. Especially, when Nesta drops her gaze away from him, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

It leaves him wanting to find whoever in her past has her unsure, wanting to go track down where Tomas has vanished to and punch him in the face for making her curl into herself. It makes his determination to show her what it could be like harden even more, makes him want to spend the rest of his life properly cherishing her if she’ll let him.

“I don’t know about all that,” Nesta offers, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Cassian asks instead, reaching his hand across the table and skating his fingertips across the back of Nesta’s hand, drawing her attention fully back to him.

Nesta sighs softly. “Cassian—”

“Let me prove it to you. Prove what it could be like, should be like. Prove what a good date is. Prove that I’d treat you better.”

Nesta thinks about it for a moment, emotions flitting through those blue eyes faster than Cassian can decipher. But then Nesta is slipping out of her seat and grabbing her purse, turning away from him. Cassian’s heart sinks through his feet and the floor, and it takes all his willpower to keep his disappointment off his face as he watches her.

“One date,” Nesta tells him, looking back at him expectantly.

“One date is all I need, sweetheart,” Cassian assures her, jumping out of his own seat. “Now, let’s get out of here before Tomas realizes what’s hit him.”

Cassian grabs Nesta’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and leading her out of the bar. Her hand feels right in his, his fingers curled around her own, their palms pressed together, and Cassian knows in that moment that he has no intention of ever letting go again. He uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket, working quickly to get everything ready, to make everything perfect for this opportunity, but he’s still nervous by the time they arrive at their destination.

Nesta’s steps pause as she glances around them. “Our one date is going to be at our apartment complex?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassian asks, holding open the door for her.

“You sure are asking a lot for this one date.”

“And the night is still young.”

Cassian offers her a wink for extra good measure, earning a laugh from Nesta in return. The sound is light and easy, the melody wrapping around Cassian’s limbs as surely as it wraps around his heart. It might just be his favorite sound, the way her blue eyes light up along with the reaction his favorite sight, and he can’t wait to draw even more laughs out of her.

He leads the way back up to their floor, all of the paper and plastic bags he expects waiting right outside his apartment door. He sends up a silent prayer to the Mother in thanks that so far everything is going to plan.

“What’s all this?” Nesta asks, eying the bags as well.

“Well, I noticed you order a lot of takeout,” Cassian explains, gathering up the different bags and unlocking his apartment door.

Nesta scoffs even as she steps inside and into his apartment. “Are you judging me for being a terrible cook?”

“Never. I’ll have you know I actually love to cook, so we’re a good pair, but I didn’t really have time to prepare anything tonight, so I figured I’d order everything I’ve worked out to be your favorites based on what you seem to order the most,” Cassian explains, setting all the bags down on his kitchen counter and beginning to pull the different containers out. “Crab rangoon from Bar Bao. Butter chicken and basmati from Urban Tandoor. Garlic breadsticks and ravioli from Tony’s. California rolls from Black Dragon. And triple chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.”

Nesta is silent, staring wide-eyed at all the food, at him, so Cassian turns to grab plates just to give his hands something to do. When she still hasn’t said anything, he clears his throat awkwardly, pushing a hand up and through his hair.

“So…” Cassian starts, handing a plate over to Nesta. “What do you think?”

“I think you might just get a second date after all.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise

#nessian #sjmromanceweek2024 #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #acotar #acosf #my fic

[zombie-bait]

The Death of a Vampire

Lestat as a protagonist just works so incredibly well and a very significant aspect of that is him being Anne Rice's self-insert. Lived experience can be critical when it comes to writing a good story and many memorable novels will feature elements of that. Anne is built different, though. Lestat (book 2 onwards) is basically Anne's journal for dealing with her grievances and trauma, which, on its own, is a very questionable method of writing. More often than not, it causes him to be characterized inconsistently between books because Anne's own opinions have changed. But it also makes him so real.

You follow his struggles with religion, you see him yearn for forgiveness from a god that has seemingly abandoned him a long time ago and you feel it. The passage I will never get over is in the early chapters of The Vampire Lestat, when Lestat has a breakdown over his mother's (and frankly his own) mortality. He struggles and he cries and he can't get out of bed because there's nothing he can do. Eventually he starts to live again, forces himself to.

But.

"I wandered into the church and on my knees I leaned against the wall and I looked at the ancient statues and I felt the same gratitude looking at the finely carved fingers and the noses and the ears and the expressions on their faces and the deep folds in their garments, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. At least we had these beautiful things, I said. Such goodness. But nothing natural seemed beautiful to me now! The very sight of a great tree standing alone in a field could make me tremble and cry out. Fill the orchard with music. And let me tell you a little secret. It never did pass, really."

I think about those last two sentences a lot. I think about them even more since Anne Rice passed away.

Every page of Interview is spent talking about death and yet (imo) it's only in TVL that you really feel it. Louis in book 1 welcomes death quite readily because, besides his toxic boyfriend and their traumatized daughter, he doesn't have much to live for. He's basically given up by the time Lestat appears. The greatest torture, to Louis, is the knowledge that he can live forever on the suffering of others.

But Lestat is the complete opposite. He wants to listen to music, to explore Paris, to perform on any stage that will take him, to embrace the man he loves and to send his ailing mother letters of his accomplishments. Death matters most to those who are desperate to live and god is he desperate. He's haunted by his mother's sickness, by the wolves on the mountain that threaten to end his life before he's even lived it, the witches place that reeks of meaningless suffering. And in a way, the dark gift provides opportunity to escape that. But it is still death. It takes away Nicki in a very literal way and takes away his mother in a more personal one. Magnus, like death, chose Lestat arbitrarily. He sees the cellar of blonde corpses and knows that he was only one of dozens to meet an untimely death with no explanation.

Lestat also really wants you to know that he is, truly, a good person. He must be. He swears to only hunt criminals and then goes back on that two pages later. He reshapes stories to present himself as the noble protagonist and the audience has no choice but to believe him. He wants, desperately, to be loved for all that he is, man and monster. He wants to be the hero.

He's this awful, fascinating, very human man so clearly born out of the internal struggle to find meaning and love in a cruel, unpredictable world we all tend to share. He's made up of incredibly basic and powerful human desires hidden behind a mask of bravado and I can't recalling seeing another protagonist like him.

(Quick mention: This isn't some kind of "wow Anne Rice is an incredible author who can do no wrong" piece. She's written a lot of fucked up and bad shit that cannot be easily brushed over. But I don't think I'll ever get over reading TVL for the first time. To read someone bare their soul in such a way creates a truly unique experience. A lot of characters in a lot of pieces of media face death, but it's rare to see a character face mortality in such a personal way.)

(Also odds are I've written similar posts to this before but shhhhh these sad gay vampires are all I have)

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv spoilers #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire lestat #vampires #mortality #literature #this is all book stuff btw #not super relevant to the tv show as far as ive seen #but only time will tell #the vampire lestat spoilers #i was gonna make a joke about how i should write an essay exploring mortality in tvl #but i think i just did that #so hmmmm #how do i convince ppl in my life to read this book without them thinking im a little freak #cuz like Gabrielle <3 but also Gabrielle :// #iykyk

[anrieee]

⇝ 24 - (✍︎) déjà vu

“You look like shit.”

“Thank you, Tao.” You looked at her blankly. “The party the other day is still killing me.”

“You’re still hangover?” Ayaka looked at you in concern.

“Well- no, more like they’re hung over something or someone.” Lumine whispers the last part and you give her a glare that said to not spill anything more. She puts her hand up in mock surrender and does a motion with her fingers that ‘zipped’ her mouth.

“Is Venti gonna come with us?” You change the topic.

“Yeah, but he’s going to be late.”

“What’s taking Miko so long though?” You were starting to get impatient waiting at the entrance of the amusement park. After all, you all had agreed to meet here.

Lumine grumbled, “Obviously taking her sweet time with her girlfriend. Couples, I swear.”

“Now, what did I hear about couples?”

“Hey, Miko and Ei!” Ayaka is the first to greet them and you guys follow suit.

“Alright! First stop, the roller coaster!” Hu Tao excitedly exclaimed. She couldn’t wait to try the rides, but also put the plan in motion.

-

As much as you didn’t want to admit it. This amusement park was having a bigger effect than you initially thought. Looking around the place made you unbelievably sad for no reason— no scratch that, you knew why. You were grieving a relationship that could’ve blossomed but didn’t. But then again, what right did you have to grieve something that didn’t exist in the first place?

This was the place you and Scaramouche started to open up to each other, so there was definitely a lot of good moments you had with him. Your heart should be swelling up with joy because of the memories, but with the recent incident all you can feel is bitterness, sorrow, and anger. You can’t help but think about what could have been. The what ifs eating away your entire being.

You’re mad at Scaramouche for saying those nonsense about you. Whether you can forgive him or not depends on his apology, but you also don’t want to talk to him yet. You’re angry at yourself too. You’re not sure if it’s because despite it all there’s a part of you that yearns for him. Or it could be that you managed to like him at all. Or it could also be because you’re still hopeful. Hopeful that everything could go back to normal, to the time you were starting to get to know him better.

“Hey, why are you frowning so much?” Hu Tao asked from beside you on the rollercoaster, she frowned as well. She’s the type of person whose mood is easily affected by those around her.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, you try to give her a smile but it comes out looking strained.

“Alri— AHHHHHHH.” And the rollercoaster quickly took off.

-

“Do you get déjà vu~” Lumine sing-songed close to your ear and you jumped.

“Will you stop that? I just got goosebumps.” You made a face the same way you would when you smell something unpleasant.

“What? I just brought you back to reality.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, you looked kinda pitiful just staring at your cotton candy.”

“I don’t even know why I bought it.”

“Give it to me, then.” Lumine does a ‘gimme’ motion with her hand.

“No.” You refuse and she gives you a dirty look before mutterring a ‘you’re not gonna eat it anyway.’ You take a piece of it to prove Lumine wrong.

The cotton candy ended up leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

-

“Oh, Venti!”

“And Scara…” When you caught sight of Venti’s group, your eyes were quick to search for him.

‘Why is he here? Is this why Venti was late?’

“Perfect timing! We were about to ride the ferris wheel, especially since we can only ride it in pairs.” Hu Tao nudged the ferris wheel conductor. “Right?”

Bullshit.

“Y-yes.” The poor guy agreed as he rubbed the spot that Hu Tao nudged harshly.

You don’t know how they managed to make the guy agree.

“Hey, Lumine do you wanna—?” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Lumine is already dragging her brother in one of the booth.

“Sorry, I’m going with Aether.” Okay. That was weird, Lumine choosing Aether?

“Well, I’m obviously going with Ei.” Miko is quick to make her way inside. “Good luck figuring this out though.”

“Hu Tao and I will be partners!” Venti announced.

You glanced at Ayaka, “How about you?”

“Kazuha and I agreed to be partners for this one.” She gives a sheepish smile.

“It’s me and Xiao for this one.” Childe gives you an apologetic smile.

Well. That’s wonderful. Absolutely terrific. You are going to be stuck with Scaramouche for the whole ride. But then again, once all of them gets inside no one will be able to stop you from not riding it.

“Don’t even think about ditching on us.” Venti is already behind you before you can even think about your plan.

“I thought you were already inside.” You grumbled.

“Just call it a gut feeling.”

“Fuck you.” You flip him off.

“Aww, you love me so much.”

-

Scara tried his hardest to calm down. He felt like he was suffocating and his hands was starting to feel clammy. He wiped down his sweaty hands on his jeans every few seconds.

‘Just say it. It’s only two words.’

“I’m sorry” was what he wanted to say, but when he tried uttering the words they ended up drowning in his throat. He swallowed and tried again, “I’m sorry.”

A crack in his voice. He wanted nothing more than to disappear right here, right now. Especially since silence enveloped the two of you, and not the comfortable one.

One minute. Two. Then three minutes. He was starting to think, you didn’t hear him. Or you were deliberately ignoring him. He’s biting his lips in anticipation and nervousness now.

‘Maybe I should say it louder?’

“I’m sorry too.” You continue to stare at the window. “I’m sorry for saying those harsh words to you.”

“It’s not your fault.” He’s baffled why you’re apologizing. “It’s my fault. I was an asshole for no reason at all. You don’t have to apologize.”

“That’s true, but I could’ve handled it better.” You finally look at him. “But anyway, why were you an asshole?”

He falls silent and casts his gaze on the floor, “I was jealous and angry.”

You look at him in shock then you laugh. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it, because, wow, you also felt mad and jealous when you said those words towards him.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.” You cough to recompose yourself.

“It’s okay, I know I shouldn’t have lost my shit just because I was jealous.”

“No, no, I get it.”

Silence again, but now it’s less tense than before.

“Sorry, I can’t forgive you.” You said firmly. “Not yet, at least.”

Scara looks disappointed, but then it changes to a defeated look. It’s like he’s seen this coming and has accepted it. He smiled sadly, “It’s fine. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready to forgive me.”

“No, Kuni. I want you to work for it. I want you to earn my trust and forgiveness. You can’t let time do it for you. If you want it, do it yourself.”

“Are you giving me the blessing to court you?” An attempt to make a joke.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Why were you so nonchalant about it?! Scara stared at you with bewildered eyes.

Bonus:

“Can you read their lips?”

“No, it’s too dark.” Venti squinted his eyes.

“Goddammit.”

-

“Uh, fine weather isn’t it?” Childe attempted to make a conversation.

“…”

Childe has been at it for the past 5 minutes. He’s tried to make Xiao talk to no avail. He swears he loses a year of his life the longer this goes on.

-

“Move, bitch.”

“You, move.”

“STOP MOVING, AETHER. IT’S WOBBLING.”

“FUCK.”

-

“How has it been?” Kazuha kindly asked.

“Hectic and exhausting.” Ayaka sighed deeply.

“I get it.” Kazuha nodded in understanding.

-

As for Ei and Miko, they were just doing what couples would usually do in a ferris wheel.

just a hater — [ prev | masterlist | next ]

Synopsis: In which you major in astronomy and scaramouche is the biggest astronomy hater (in your eyes). What happens when someone confesses their feelings for you, and you not knowing how to handle affections, suddenly blurt out that you are already taken. By who? Well, scaramouche of course.

a/n: reminder that taglist has been full and closed for some time now 😭 i’m sorry but if you asked to be added, i won’t respond

taglist: @lovelyiez @linn-a-a @itsyourgirlria @beriiov @kunikuzushiit @bubiblossom @jiminscarmex @starfruiitzz @baelloraa @bleedingwhiteroses222 @zanashair @criminalinthemaking @dee-zbignuts @lxry-chxn @mangobee @sukunasrealgf @reverse-iak @monochromaticelliot @scaranaris-lil-niko @zannivrs @lovely-scaramouchie @ireallylikehamsters @angryhope @monaypo1 @shirmxie @pooonyo @ladyv1n @thenightsflower @aerinrin @suzukara @lfgceo @elysiasbae @saoiirsee @kairxse @prefesro @purpl3bo1 @l-l-u-x-x @otomegame-oneshots @mcryv @kunikuzushisbeloved @cupids-chamber @justawalkingdisaster @scaraapologist @elakari @hishui @loveroftheoldestdream @doppoluvbot @crowbird @lunavixia @mirology

#genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #genshin wanderer #jah - just a hater #genshin impact #kunikuzushi #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin smau #genshin fanfic #genshin textfic #genshin texts #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #smau #genshin scara #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche fanfic #jah - chapters #scara x reader

[moviestarmartini]

where she goes. — brahim díaz x reader.

tranquilita tu siempre te roba el show / una perversa le vo'a dar dembow / si se pone en cuatro i go where she goes.

summary: (based on this request) you slept with brahim full knowing he only did it to get over his ex. when he comes asking for more you decide to ignore him and disappear, full of pride. too bad he knows where to find you.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: yet again basic sentences in spanish (some i translated), nsfw (18+), stubborn mfs, alcohol consumption, prideful mfs, unprotected sex but what's new (not endorsing it!!!!), p in v, fingering, dom!brahim, he's a bit mean here whoops, spanking (nothing too extreme i promise), praise, aftercare, he's a lil shit here.

A/N: i stalled for a second but i'm so happy how this turned out !! thank you reina @thelvsickgirl for the request mwah mwah i hope you like it 🤍

now playing... where she goes by bad bunny

You stared at the messages in disbelief. You knew very well you were just a rebound, and though it was very well the best fuck of your life, you doubted if that was the case for him too. It was just your ego controlling your every thought, embarrassed you were the second option for him to come back to every time he found himself lonely. After not long consideration, you decided to listen to your pride and ignore the messages. 

Brahim stared back at the blue gray check marks, noticing how you went online on and off but no typing. There was no true intention to reply, thus meaning you didn’t want to respond, and you wanted him to know that. The same sense of pride invaded the two of you. ‘Fine. If she can ignore me, I can ignore her back. Game on.’ and he ignored you ignoring the messages, chest puffed with toxic dignity. 

But it wasn’t easy, not as much as he’d imagined. Each time he closed his eyes to rest, the ghost of your body haunted him, and he yearned to have your tits smothering his face once again as you bounced up and down the length of his cock. When he passed by the living room the carpet was still soaked in a stain remover from the red wine you spilled that night, the same one that had gotten you tipsy and stained your blouse, prompting you to remove it. 

And then, as the situation escalated, he replayed it in the same exact way in his mind until he tore himself away from the thought and moved on. Moved on to the thought of what you were up to; if you were seeing someone else, someone that had your voice stuck in the back of your throat like he did. 

Even some considerable time later, he just gave into the urges, the need to see your ass bouncing against his pelvis when he ordered you to get on all fours just to ram you from behind. He knew you well enough to know you were going to be at that club that night, so he sat and waited patiently, being a wingman to his own friends as he waited upon your arrival. 

And God, it did not disappoint. 

You sauntered in as if you walked into your own living room, the act was flawless as you stole gazes and forced them to look at you. But Brahim couldn’t help but smirk when he noticed you were only looking back at him. He watched as you hurriedly excused yourself from your group of friends and trotted over with those stiletto heels, sitting in the empty chair next to him. 

“Stalking me now, aren’t we?” You muttered, calling the bartender over. You couldn’t even bother as Brahim raised his hand to catch his attention first. 

“Un espresso martini para la señorita; lo agregas a mi cuenta.” ‘A espresso martini for the lady; add it to my tab’ The corner of your lip twitched as he knew exactly what you wanted. That also came true as he placed his hand on your knee, caressing a scar from the time you rolled down a hill when you were six.

“When are you giving me another chance, huh?” He inched closer, searching for your eyes. “I came all this way…” He thanked the bartender with a nod, giving you enough space to sip on your drink. “I surrender, okay?” 

You laughed, not even knowing what type of war you found yourselves in. “Surrender to what? ¿Qué está pasando por esa cabecita tuya, Brahimi?” You hummed disinterestedly, taking a long sip before placing the glass down. But there wasn’t any type of humor in Brahim’s eyes, not even with the nickname. He leaned in closer, nose brushing against yours. 

He seemed to straighten up and almost fix his attitude towards you, clearing his throat and brushing his hair back. “Can we… talk somewhere more private? My car, maybe?” He offered, eyes full of regret. 

You convinced yourself for the past month or so you weren’t going to give in so easily. You knew it was just sex, all his compliments and excuses were the pathway straight into his bed, or his couch, or the kitchen counter. But there you were, gulping down the last of your drink before getting dragged out of there, hurriedly texting your friends.

You sat in his car, the air thick as the engine roared awake. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?” You turned to him, still playing hard to get. The act dissolved the second he crashed his lips in yours furiously. “Ay princesa…” He sighed against your lips, his hands messing up your hair. “I want to feel that pussy again.” 

The nod you gave him was enough for the man next to you behind the wheel to break almost seven traffic laws on his way back to the apartment, and you squirmed on your seat, extremely turned on. 

The walk to the elevator was fuzzy, but as soon as you got inside, he almost slammed you against the wall with the rough push, subsequently having his lips take yours. It was sloppy, his lips and surrounding areas tinting in your lipstick, hands exploring under your dress to the point you wondered if he’d gotten you naked entirely. 

He was hungry, insatiable almost. When you reached his floor, the door wasn’t even closed, and you believed he knew how tightly you were wrapped around his finger. You stumbled inside to reach his living room couch, the same place where it all began a few weeks ago. 

You sat in his lap, legs to either side of his body. His hands forced you to arch your back, clothes chests against each other.  “Take off that dress. Keep the heels,” He ordered, pulling your hands away and letting you stand. He wanted a show, and you gave him just that. Your eyes didn’t leave his as you unzipped the little black item, letting it slowly slip down your body and pool at your feet. You brushed your hair to the side, giving him those eyes that chanted ‘slut me out!’ over and over again. 

“Who’s been seeing you in those?” He pointed with his nose to the lacy items that dressed your body under the regular items. He parted his legs, his growing boner becoming more evident.

“You know I wear these to feel pretty.” You replied with equal sass, and he tutted, leaning back. “What?” He saw right through you, and that was only part of it, not the entirety. With no other reply he patted his lap, inviting you to sit in it again. 

You knew better than to disagree, and as soon as you placed your legs on either side of his body, he captured your lips in his. The kiss was frenzied, he grabbed the plush of your ass and kneaded it. The groping made you grind on his lap, the excuse of a piece of fabric rubbing against his clothed boner. 

Brahim broke the kiss, leaving you wanting more. But he kept you away, holding you tenderly by your jaw, but still squishing your cheeks a little. “Don’t lie to me, mamita,” He cooed, voice dripping with sweetness before a smack filled the air, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Who’s been seeing you in that lingerie?” 

“No one, I swear!” You whined, writhing under another spank to your ass. “I kept wearing it in case I ran into you. I never got the courage to get on with someone else.” You heard a small laugh come from him, and sweet pecks soon placed at your chest. 

“Was that so hard to admit?” Brahim brushed your hair back with the palm of his hand, almost petting you. “Too bad you were just a lil’ too stubborn to text me back, eh amor?” His nose brushed against your neck, now depositing the sweetest kisses down its length. His hands played with the clasp of your bra, and it brought small giggles to your slips that mixed in with the moans. 

But the giggles didn’t last long as his hands cupped your breasts, massaging and squeezing them. “Fuck, I missed these,” He groaned, his lips applying sucktion on your shoulder. Surprised, your hands brushed the short strands in the back of his neck before tangling into the longer ones at the top. 

“Eres mía, ¿oíste?” Once his hands left your breasts, his fingers brushed against the newly formed mark. You nodded, breath hitching when his fingertips descended down your torso, hand stuffing inside your panties. He hummed in satisfaction at your wetness, grazing lightly at your clit. His eyes dissected the way you could barely stay straight, sinking further into his clothed thighs. “That’s good, isn’t it?” 

But the way he stared at you also meant he wanted a vocal answer, and with a trembling voice you reassured him, “So good, I swear,” His movements were painfully slow, until he moved his hand further down to tease your entrance. You nodded in consent, feeling two digits push inside. But there he was again moving slowly, taking his sweet time. 

“I’m sorry, is that not enough?” It was as if he was making fun of your moans turning into whining between low chuckles. “Ride them. C’mon.” The situation itself already seemed bizarre, how you ran into him when you most wished you did, only for him to have you completely under his control. You didn’t question him, taking the free pass and allowing yourself to get off, hips rolling on the digits he pumped inside you. You threw your head back, moving upwards and back down again continuously, your slick soon gathering in his palm. 

The moment he curled his fingers to hook against that ragged spot,  heat rose up your body, stomach tickling. Your movements became frantic, eyes glassy as you began to crave that release… only for him to remove his hand from under you, leaving you speechless. He licked his fingers clean with such care, big puppy eyes looking up at you. 

“Cum on my cock, please,” He guided your hand to squeeze the clothed bulge, shivering under your touch. You didn’t waste any time undoing the item, and he helped you out by sliding it— along with his underwear— to rest at his lower thighs. You licked your lips, watching the pink tip leak pre-cum, but decided on kissing him first, hand undoing the buttons of his black shirt. 

But there wasn’t any time to fully remove the item as he rubbed his hard cock against your entrance, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Vamos, princesa.” He encouraged you to sink down the length, his other hand caressing your side. You looked up

at him, only to find his pair of eyes looking back fueled with passion. 

That was enough motivation to check he was correctly lined up before sinking down. A groan in unison burst through the four walls, the grip of hands settling on your sides tightening. You hid your face in his neck, getting used to the stretch. Your bare chest against his own, and for a second you swore you could feel his heartbeat. 

It didn’t take long for you to start bouncing up and down his length, wanting to finish off the job. You were going to grant his wish, the fluids already rolling down to soak the couch a little. He groaned, feeling that peculiar pulsing of your walls, his hands maintaining a hard grip on your waist. 

“Don’t give up on me now, you’ve been doing so great.” Brahim praised, noticing how the build up had thrown off your rhythm. “Let me help.” He urged, positioning your bodies before he thrusted upwards. It was fast and fierce, your moans hitting a higher decibel as he tipped you off towards your orgasm. 

But he didn’t stop, he barely slowed down to give you time to recover before going back to that relentless pace, your head dropping and resting against his shoulder blade. “Mírame” He demanded, his hungry eyes meeting your infatuated ones before he pulled you into a kiss, stopping his thrusts while fully inside you. 

A sloppy makeout, tongues tangled, teeth clashing lightly every once in a while. His cock filled every crevice, his hands explored every inch while you finally removed the button up fully. Without even giving you a warning he switched, and you were under him. “La más bella de todo Madrid, eh my love?” He cooed, hands running down your sides as he took every inch displayed in front of him. 

You couldn’t help but blush, scoffing a little. “Ponte en cuatro,” He asked so nicely you couldn’t decline, hearing how he took off his bottoms, giving you space to get on your hands and knees. Then you could feel him behind you again, giving your ass a light smack before he leaned down to kiss one of your buttcheeks. 

A loud crack followed, and you gasped, looking back at him. “¿Enserio Brahim? This is the second pair! You can’t break things you didn’t pay for.” He tore the lacy thong to shreds easily, ripping it off your body. He only smiled sweetly, blowing you a kiss accompanied by a wink before he was back inside you, thrusting as if his life depended on it. The loud moans and groans— almost pornographic— filled the space once more. Your back arched as your arms gave out, the second release hitting you like a train. 

Brahim couldn’t help but admire your figure as he hit it from the back, a small smile sneaking in from behind his parted lips. He leaned down and circled his arm around your hip to press two fingers on your perked clit, already stimulated enough. Your thighs shook, breath getting stuck in your throat. He had never been a selfish lover, and you knew he wanted you to cum again at the same time he filled you up to the brim. 

“Fuck— fuck, that’s it, one more baby,” He praised as you came undone under him, your legs giving you. He pounded you into the cushions, kissing the back of your shoulder blades. The squeeze your pussy gave him was more than enough to tip him over the edge, glorified chants of your name overshadowed your whimpers. 

In no time he had you cradled in his arms, holding you close against his chest. “Stay the night with me, please,” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you agreed between half lidded eyes. 

You still left the following morning before he could wake up, knowing this was something still casual. He was still trying to get over his ex, and you were the closest person he could do that with; your convictions haven’t changed, even when he spent all night spooning you with his face buried in your neck. 

“You’ve got something waiting on your desk,” One of your coworkers announced as you clocked in on Monday, the others giggling. Curious, you walked slowly to your space to find a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a black box with a pink satin bow. 

You smiled at your coworkers innocently, sitting down to check what was inside the box. Your ears burned as your eyes fell upon the brand new lacy underwear. You closed the box without making much fuss to not attract any attention, checking the note resting on the outside. 

‘ picked them myself so i can break them in peace. 

see you friday, princesa. 

— yours, BD. ‘ 

#i was going to post this later but i got too excited #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing ! #brahim diaz #brahim diaz x reader #maybe i should start a bad bunny song fic series #who knows #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #football smut #football fic

[onskepa]

REMINDER TO EVERYBODY: This au is one where Spider is a girl and the Sully's kids are boys.

Here we go for the sequel i been waiting on...

I was thinking,

Spider getting courted by this male na'vi (I really headcanon he's pansexual in canon, so i think in this au he's is too)

And like, she's on with this for a while, because why not?

She's 16 she would love to have a boyfriend and shit like that, every girl her age does it.

She and this guy, flirt, go on strange walks togheter, hunt and do things like this with eachother..

But the Sully's boys, do NOT like this, they all jealous (not in a sexual or romantic way, but in a platonic way, like older brothers are protective of their younger sisters)

And they start this series of "condolences" where Spider is needed to them.

Like

Neteyam: Spider i really need your help with my ikran, she can only calm down with your help i swear.

-

Lo'ak: dude, i need your help with cleaning my family's knives, i really cant do it without your help

-

Kiri: monkey girl, can you please help me search from this herbs? my grandmother really needs them!

-

Tuk: can we pretty please play with me?

-

Spider in a way of another always accepts, until her date gets angry at her for dropping out on their dates every last minute (especially after he organised a big day for them to spent togheter, and she dropped it because she was asked by one of the boys)

She goes cry to her brothers about it, and meanwhile they console her, Lo'ak let himself escape a "We knew he wasn't good for you anyway sis"

And she gets really mad, and starts yelling at them about how is all their fault and that she can't belive they did something like that to her.

(Idk how to go forward to this point honestly, i hope in you love xx)

Hellooooooo darling~!!

So I can see so many things with this idea! Hope you and everyone enjoy this one~!!

P.S: Spider = Arachnid, Kiri = Kamun , Tuk = Tik

Arachnid

------------

Arachnid: Lose strings

Some time has passed since the incident with Tony, and while he has never done anything like that ever again, Arachnid knows better than to be alone in the lab other than her own personal room. 

However, it hasn't stopped the deep worry the poor girl has. Thinking that every other male aside from the sully brothers, wants something from her. Should arachnid need something or ask, it is mostly the women she goes to. Rarely she would ask norm or max. 

But that doesn't stop her from having fun with the sully brothers. They are her best friends and closest to a family she has.  Arachnid is happy despite some bumps on the road. And it is fine. 

Until one na’vi male took interest in her.

Srefey, a young male na’vi who had finished his iknimaya not long ago. Bright, talented, always eager to help those in need. But he is also someone who longs for something. While young and still discovering new things, he desires something that his loving parents have. 

A strong bond with a significant other. 

Someone who he can call many loving names, do things together, and build a small paradise just between the two. Srefey’s parents are in no rush to find someone for him, or he is looking for someone. There is a time and a place, as they always say. Yet Srefey can't help but search. To yearn for someone as they yearn for him. 

Of course he should be patient

But at the same time, he should explore his options and see what else he considered yet. 

“Hey don't act so spoiled now temtem” Arachnid giggles as temtem, neteyam’s ikran, nuzzles against her. 

“Alright, just one more” She says, tossing a big piece of meat into the ikrans mouth, temtem accepts it happily. 

“I swear he should be your ikran instead. Never listen to me” Neteyam says as he shakes his head. Both gently pet temtem as he purrs in his own way. Loving the attention he is getting. 

“Maybe the way you approach him is wrong,” Arachnid suggested. Neteyam sighs, “I have tried your tips, copied how you speak and touched him. Yet nothing works, it is like he just prefers you over me. And I am the rider” Neteyam says. Tetem grunts as if to agree with him. 

“Awe~ Is that it temtem? You like me? Yeah? You like me better than old grumpy neyney?” Arachnid baby talks temtem as she scratches under his chin, having him pant happily like a dog. 

“I'm not grumpy” Neteyam frowns as he crosses his arms. 

“Whatever, I will watch over him while you get your stuff” Arachnid suggests. Agreeing to that, neteyam leaves. 

Srefey and a small group of other young na’vi go to attend their ikrans. Seeing his beloved ikran, roar out in how he missed srefey. 

“My dear friend, I have missed you too” Srefey comforts his ikran. 

“ARACHNID!!” 

The voice of a young one was heard past him. Turning, he recognizes young Tik sully, following behind were his two older brothers, kamun and lo’ak. All three walked towards the sky na’vi, arachnid. He sees how the brothers interact with the girl. All hugging and talking with the young girl like a close friend, family from what he can see. 

Srefey was aware of arachnid and how she does her best to contribute to the clan. Many acknowledge and some pretend she doesn't exist. He wasn't in between but this is a first where he truly saw her. 

While attending to his ikran, srefey couldn't help but observe the sky na’vi. Arachnid tends to neteyam’s ikran well, and the ikran responds to her petting, kind words, and anything she does. Speaking in fluent, perfect na’vi as she speaks to anyone. The girl's voice was soft and kind, from what he could hear at the distance. 

The more he sees, the more curious he becomes about arachnid. 

“Tsahik, some of the warriors require your help, they can't make it all the way over here” a na’vi told mo’at. Quickly she gathers her things and turns to arachnid. “You stay and continue with the paste, help anyone who comes. I will return”, with an affirmed nod from arachnid, mo’at leaves. 

Arachnid begins to hum a lovely tune as she continues to make healing paste among other medicines. It is moments like that, being alone can clear her mind. At peace and at her own pace. 

At least for 5 minutes before the flaps of the healing tent opened. 

“Tsahik, I-oh, I'm sorry, is the tsahik not here…?” A young na’vi entered, gripping his shoulder. Arachnid turned to him, shaking her head. 

“No, she left not too long ago to help with some of the warriors. However, tsahik has taught me her ways, I can help you” Arachnid offered. 

A smile reached up to the young na’vi’s lips, sitting down at the woven mat, he showed his wound to the sky na’vi. There was a deep slash, blood still escaping from the wound. Quickly, arachnid got to work. While she didnt speak, concentrated to get the materials and stop the bleeding, the boy observed her, seeing how quick and swiftly she began to do her thing, very much like a healer of advanced level. 

Grabbing a wet rag, slowly arachnid taps it gently on the wound, cleaning the blooded area. 

“Did a hunt go wrong?” She asked, as means to distract him a bit from the stinging pain. The boy huffed a bit. “You could say that, a herb of strumbeast came out of nowhere. We had little time to get out of their way. I got hurt by hitting against a rock, but others obtained more serious injuries”, he explained. 

“That explains Mo'at having to leave” arachnid replied. 

They made a few glances at each other, giving small talk. 

“There, all better,” Arachnid says as she finishes bandaging his wound. Doing a bit of shoulder movement, the boy was surprised how bit of pain he felt and how freely he can move his arm. The sky na’vi is very good. 

“Thank you” the boy says, grinning in gratitude. Arachnid nods. 

“I never catched your name,” the boy says. 

“My name is Arachnid,” the girl replies with a warm smile. This made the boy smile bigger in return. 

“Pleasure to meet you arachnid, my name is srefey”.

After their first meeting, do they cross paths more often. Notice each other but arachnid still keeps her distance. Her trust in males still warry. Of course the sully’s were not that oblivious to the quick glances but didn't interfere much. For now. 

“Arachnid, look I found these large flower orange petals. Should we make a new top for you? It will bring out your stripes more” Kamun said to arachnid one day. Arachnid inspected the material, it was soft and very beautiful, she nodded. 

“But this time, maybe I should cover myself a bit more…” arachnid mutters. Kamun hears this and sighs, “are they still bothering you?” he asked while growling a bit. “If they are, just say the word and we will take care of them”. 

Arachnid was quick to shake her hands and head denying it, “no no! They stopped after whatever you did with tony”. This brought Kamun a sense of peace as his shoulders relax. “Then you shouldn't worry, don't let the past incident cloud you. Never be ashamed of your body” Kamun encourages. 

Agreeing, arachnid and kiri begin to work. 

The following day, Arachnid wears her new clothing with love and pride. Kamun was right, orange does bring out her stripes better. Which made her feel more confident and happy. And a special na’vi noticed her happy improvement. 

“Need some help?” Srefey asked arachnid one bright morning. Arachnid collected some special leaves but holding a basket, while holding a vine and at the same time picked at the leaves it a bit of a challenge. But arachnid was still warry. 

“I can manage,” Arachnid replied, a bit stubbornly. This made Srefey chuckled, “are you sure? I can see you trying to balance yourself and the basket. It can be done quicker if you let me assist” he offered. 

Arachnid was alone and the sully brothers will doing some training, promised to help her later, but she needed the leaves now. Sighing a bit in defeat, Arachnid allowed srefey in assisting her. “Fine, but I hold the basket, you can just drop the leaves in there,” Arachnid said. This was fine with srefey. 

Switching sides, arachnid stayed on the ground as srefey climbed on the vine and started to collect the leaves and drop them on the basket. “What do you need these leaves for?” Srefey asked out of curiosity. Arachnid was a bit hesitant to answer, “why do you want to know?” Arachnid asks back. 

Srefey chuckles a bit, “can I know?”, arachnid shrugs and doesn't say much. After a few minutes, the basket was full so srefey got down. “Would you like me to carry it?” He offers. Arachnid quickly and gently takes the basket closer to her body, “thanks but you did enough. I can carry it, it's not heavy”. Really, it wasn't. Srefey took notice of how arachnid’s behavior is. A bit distant and not making much eye contact. 

“You know, you dont have to be so tense around me. I won't hurt you, you seem like a nice person to be around” Srefey compliments. Arachnid had her eyes wide a bit, surprised by his choice of words. Perhaps she was being a bit cold to him. 

“S-sorry, it's not that I think you would hurt me, I am just…still tense from an incident” Arachnid confesses. This caught srefey’s attention. Now his eyes fully on her, he couldn't help but know, “incident? Has someone hurt you?”. 

“Not physically, since I wear na’vi clothing majority of the time. Human males had looked at me with….uncomfortable glances. Someone tried to take me somewhere more private but, lucky kamun and tik arrived on time. Send me off to tsahik, I dont know what they did but after that, many males didnt try to touch me again. However, it still doesnt shake off their stares at me. So sorry if I am being like this to you, it's not easy to just shake it off. Being alone with a man still irks me” Arachnid explains. 

Now fully understanding her situation, srefey thinks of another route. Stupid humans are still doing stupid things it seems. 

“Well, how about I show you?” Srefey asks, this made arachnid raise an eyebrow. 

“Show me?” 

“Yes, let me prove to you that I mean now harm. I won't lie arachnid, you have captured my interest, and before you assume anything. I merely wish to get to know you. Be friends even. And if you think it won't work out, or if you are uncomfortable, just tell me. I won't force you, have you be in control”. 

Arachnid let his offer linger in her mind. Her finger tapping on her chin as she hums in thought. It wouldn't hurt right? She cant always be living in fear. 

“Alright, I don't mind being friends with you” Arachnid gives her answer, this made srefey smile in excitement.  

“Great, I know you are busy but how about tomorrow? We can go and…”

3 months of lovely friendship grew between arachnid and srefey. 3 months of getting to know each other, likes, dislikes, secrets and discovering new things together. 3 months of platonic relationship, until it grew into something more….intimate. 

“What…?” Arachnid asks, in disbelief of what she is hearing and seeing in front of her. 

On a bright sunny day, after playing in a clear river and eating good fruit. Srefey thought it would be a perfect moment for what he longed to speak. 

“Allow me to court you” Srefey said patiently, his smile warm and hopeful. 

Arachnid was truly at a loss for words. Someone, someone with zero bad intentions, someone who sees her more than a human, someone who desires her in a romantic way. The whole thing sounded impossible to believe. 

“B-but im human…” Arachnid says, almost in a mere whisper. 

Srefey lets a chuckle escape him as he slowly gets closer to her. 

“And? That doesn't stop me from wanting to court you. You are na’vi in all forms. Even if you don't have a kuru, or share our blue skin, I could care less. You are you arachnid, and that is what I enjoy” Srefey confesses. 

Oh if only srefey knew what those words make arachnid feel. 

“I…*Sighs* srefey, what if I don't see or feel the same way as you?” Arachnid asks, rubbing her arms as means for comfort and reassurance. If anything, it only made srefey get closer to her, his hands ghosting over hers. 

“Allow me to change your mind. And if..in the end it doesn't work, we can still be friends. You are too incredible for me to lose. Please..?” 

After long seconds of silence, Arachnid gives her answer. 

“Ok, let's see where this goes”. 

“YOU ARE BEING WHAT?!” the four sully brothers screamed/asked in complete and utter shock. Unable to process what they were told. And as they all have a moment of brain exe. Not working moment, Arachnid calmly drinks her tea. 

“Srefey is courting me” Simple. Easy. 

If only it really was that simple and easy. 

“B-but…..h-how-justWHAT?!” Lo’ak was freaking out, grabbing his hair as he paced back and forth. Tik was just as speechless as neteyam while Kamun narrowed his eyes. 

“You? C-courted?! Srefey?!” 

Arachnid rolled her eyes, “oh calm down, it's not that big of a deal” 

“IT IS A BIG DEAL!!” Tik shouted, snapping out of his own shock. Grabbing arachnid by the arm, he starts to shake her. “Tik stop!! My tea!!” Arachnid shouted as big drops of her tea were spilling from the constant shaking. Which tik didn't care for. 

“Knock it off, seriously. Great, now I have to make more” Arachnid whined a bit, gently pushing tik away as she prepares to make more tea. 

“Did he bribed you? Manipulated you? Just say the word and we will take care of it” Neteyam urges. Arachnid was starting to feel a bit annoyed by how persistent they are. 

“He didn't do anything. Srefey asked me, and I accepted. I made the choice for him to court me. No one is forcing anything. Simple as that. Meaning, you four will also have to accept it” 

This new turn of events wasn't something the four brothers liked. Arachnid is someone dear to them, a sister in all but blood. While arachnid can do many things, she is still limited and vulnerable. To protect her has become the brothers new purpose. Making sure Arachnid is safe and out of harm's way. 

And srefey, well, he has become a new threat to them.

“Here, I made these for your hair. I thought…it would look nice” Srefey tells Arachnid, on his hands are well carved beads all of them in beautiful colors. Arachnid gasped in awe. Gently grabbing one bead at a time, carefully inspecting them, the manner of the carving shows the complexity of the patterns, no two beads were the same. 

“Srefey…you didn't have to do this” Arachnid whispered as she blushed a bit. It is very rare that she is given something. Srefey feels happy and satisfied that Arachnid loves his gift. 

“I insist, besides. This is my first courting gift to you. And there will be many to come” Srefey grins. Arachnid blinked a few times, the first of many? Just how many gifts will it take? While arachnid does know the basics of courting in na’vi, each courting is still unique to their own. 

“Very well, but please. I don't need anything big for you to show me what you are capable of. Just…treating me right is enough for me” Arachnid tells srefey. Her smile bright and warm, of the many things Srefey has come to cherish with all his heart. 

“As you desire ma’Yawntu” 

Srefey will be the death of her if he continues with those names. 

Arachnid wore her new beads with great joy. She styled her hair almost the same, but this time she tied the front part and pulled back to expose more of her face. Decorating her hair with the beads made her feel more part of the clan. Oh how she loves the new beads. Srefey knew how to pick as they were of fine quality. Makes her appreciate his efforts. 

However, while the change was great, not everyone was liking it. Thus, the sully brothers often sulking and began to hate srefey. The more time arachnid spends with that young na’vi, the less time she spends with them. Which often ends the day with a sour mood. Kamun and tik are so used to having arachnid around, it is so strange not to have that anymore. Lo’ak misses pulling pranks and cracking dumb jokes with arachnid, and neteyam misses arachnid as he feels like a baby brother when she is around. 

And who is srefey to think he is worthy of their dear sister? After all that she went through, who is to say it won't happen again? They dont trust that goody goody srefey. Nothing ever good comes out of those who want arachnid. 

Until, one day, after seeing arachnid wear a matching necklace of srefey’s, did the brothers last standing tolerance break. 

“Boys…I have an idea” 

Srefey is a young warrior and a hunter, and would often go join a hunting party to gather enough meat for everyone in the village. That means there is a planned time and place of where to go. A schedule if you will. Meaning there is plenty of time to plan what to do by the time that srefey gets back. 

“Alright, everyone understood the plan?” Neteyam asks his younger brothers who all nodded enthusiastically. Neteyam grins in satisfaction. Good, if they all follow the plan, then nothing should fail. They know arachnid in and out. 

Lo’ak and neteyam left to join the same hunting party as srefey while kamun and tik do their part. By taking arachnid to a different area, a bit farther from the village. 

“You two, when I said I had time I didnt think you would take me all the way over here” Arachnid said as they settled in a nice area with a lake nearby for a swim. The view was lovely, there is no denying that, but to get there took a good amount of time. She didn't want to arrive back late and miss srefey returning. It didn't help that Kamun or tik did not think to bring their ikrans for faster travel. 

“Come on, we miss hanging out with you. It isn't the same with you being with that srevie guy” Tik complained. “Srefey” Arachnid corrected, tik could care less. That no good na’vi was taking time and attention from their sweet sister. 

“Whatever, come on! We can make some pretty cool slingshots or make more flower crowns, OH! We can plays hunter on hunter!” Tik suggested so many activities. And all sounded so much fun, unable to deny tik’s cute face, Arachnid chose what game and the three began to play. 

Until Arachnid lost track as she noticed the sun was beginning to set. Panic flowed into her. 

“Oh my Eywa, we have to get back!!” She was in a hurry, no doubt srefey already made it back and hoped to see her. But arachnid was so caught up in the games, she failed to realize how much time has passed. 

Kamun and tik on the other hand were in no rush to return home. As that is part of their plan. Placing an arm around arachnid’s shoulder, Kamun took his time walking, making arachnid having to follow his slow pace. 

“Relax arachnid, we will make it back. There will still be plenty of food by the time we get there” Kamun says in an odd relaxed tone. This only made arachnid more annoyed by the second. How she really wished she had an ikran of her own. Pushing Kamun's arm off of her, Arachnid begins to run, this makes tik and kamun follow. 

“Arachnid!! Wait up!!” Tik shouts, trying to keep up with her speed. Kamun quickly picks his little brother up in his arms and runs faster. “Why in such a hurry?! We have time!!” Kamun shouts at Arachnid, but the human girl ignores him. Her mind set on arriving at the village. There is already good progress, she will be damned if anything risks her relationship with srefey. 

And what felt like forever, Arachnid made it back just as the eclipse was forming in the sky. People were already going over to the fire pits, the meat no doubt already prepared and ready to serve. This made arachnid anxious. Looking all over the crowd to find srefey. 

“Ma’arachnid!” 

Quickly arachnid turned to find srefey waving his arm, smiling as he looked at her. Sighing relief, she goes over to him and gives him a big hug. Srefey happily returned the gesture. 

“I was starting to worry, it is unlike you to be late for anything” He says with a relieved smile on his handsome face. Arachnid chuckled a bit, “I was out with kamun and tik, we left early and I thought we would make it back. Only to realize just how far it was, but I am here now” she replied. 

Srefey brings his hand on her shoulder and guides to one of the fire puts and begins to eat together, discussing their day. While not too far from them the 4 sully’s throw death glares at srefey. 

“Well, it sort of worked” Kamun said as he stares at the couple. “Guess we will have to try harder” Lo’ak responded. 

And try harder they did.

Each sully takes turns in planning their next move, but usually it would be either lo’ak or kamun being the masterminds. And their plans work, as little by little do they interrupt arachnid’s and srefeys dates. Each sully taking turns using some form of excuse to take arachnid away from srefey. 

Less time does the two spend, and now they take arachnid everywhere before she can even look for srefey in the village. However as the boys secretly celebrate their growing victory, Arachnid and srefey were growing frustrated in their own ways. 

One morning Arachnid went to the village extra early, determined to find Srefey before those annoying boys find her instead. As she runs, she begins to see the early risers up and about. Srefey is an early riser, likes to get things early to have some free time later. Free time that should have been spent with arachnid if things don't stop coming her way. 

“There he is!” She gasps happily to see srefey organizing some baskets. 

“Srefey!” she happily calls out to him. The young na’vi turns and a smile spreads on his lips, stopping what he was doing, he turns completely to arachnid who jumped into his arms, giggling like a youngster in love. 

“So strange to see you this early, I know you treasure your sleep” Srefey teases, this made arachnid laugh. “Yes, well I am willing to sacrifice my precious sleep if it means to see you more”. 

Those words made srefey melt from the inside. Grabbing arachnids hands, he leads her somewhere more private as they snuggle together. Oh how they missed being in each other's embrace. Truly something they can't live without. 

“I miss holding you like this” Srefey confesses as he buries his head into arachnids neck, taking in her scent. The Earth of pandora and early morning mist is a lovely combination. Humming, Arachnid couldn't help but agree, “me too, I missed your big strong arms holding me. These past weeks have been endless tasks here and there”. 

Srefey couldnt help but nod, indeed it has. For some reason neteyam sully has given srefey more tasks to do, not that he minded but at times he questions why give him such silly duties when anyone can do them. And for arachnid, before she could even announce she is off, one of the four brothers would take her aside and say something along the lines of “you know temtem can't behave without you”. 

Or kamun saying “I need help looking for these herbs, grandmother says you know where to look”. 

Or thick head lo’ak practically begging arachnid and saying “Please help me sharpen the knives!! Just doing one takes forever and not every blade is the same!” 

And sweet adorable tik was also asking, close to demanding arachnid, “Let's go play at the fields! We never do that anymore! We can play your favorite games!” 

Each day one of them always has something for arachnid to do. And it takes away from her time with srefey. 

“I am courting you…yet it doesn't feel like that anymore” Srefey says in a whimper. It tugs the girl's heart seeing him like this. He should smile, not be sad. Gently strokes his ears, arachnid hums a tune. Srefey did say she had a lovely voice. 

And to srefey’s ears, arachnid can sing his sorrows away. Holding her tighter, he thinks of ways to spend time with her again. Because each day he begins to doubt and lose hope of a possible future with the girl he came to love. Srefey doesn't want to lose hope, does not wish to lose hope for arachnid. 

“How about…tomorrow? We do our tasks today, all of them. And have the whole day tomorrow just for us? No interruptions, no side tracks, nothing. Just you and me srefey” Arachnid suggests. Srefey looked at her with a new found hope and anticipation. Already looking forward to it, they agree on the time and spot. 

“Promise me you won't break our agreement?” Srefey asks. Arachnid can sense his doubts and nervousness. It wouldn't be the first time she had to cancel their meeting time. “I promise, I won't let anyone stop me from being with you”. 

Easier said than done. 

The following day arrived, no chores, no hunts, no nothing. The whole day is free to do any activities. A whole day of going anywhere at any time, doing whatever their hearts desired. The excitement of what to do fills the hearts of arachnid and srefey. Separately in their own homes, do they get ready. 

Srefey was the firs to arrive in the agreed spot. The sun was still rising from the horizon, giving color to his home. The anticipation filled his heart with joy. To see arachnid and have all her attention again was thrilling to think of. He prepared a small basket of their favorite fruits. And maybe a little gift. 

Of course he knew that the human base was a little away from the village, so it would make sense that arachnid would come a few minutes later. She does run very fast and can keep up with the speed of the na’vi. 

Besides, the day is barely beginning, there is time for the two. So he sits in a comfortable position, looking at the calm river that flows with color fishes that swim by. Won't be long now. 

8 hours later 

What hope Srefey had is now gone. Vanished. Sighing in defeat, he leaves. He should have known better. Arachnid is still human after all, and one of the things he hates about humans is how they can easily break a promise. He was a fool to think Arachnid was different. But she is like the rest. A liar and a deceit. 

Dropping the basket, he leaves in an angry huff. At this point he isn't even courting her, he should stop before he could get hurt anymore. A fool he feels, an utter fool.

Arachnid is a fool. An utter fool. To think it would just be a quick thing turned out to be lasting the whole day! 

“Arachnid come on! Don't you want to join us for dinner?” Lo’ak asks as he grabs her arm to which she was quick to yank back. “No, I have to find srefey. I messed up big time!” Panic surged into her. Thinking of the worst she makes a run for it to find srefey. But as she runs, she fails to see the satisfied look from her friends. 

“How long until he calls quits?” Tik asks as he holds neteyam’s hand. Lo’ak grins confidently, “Not long, since we had her for the whole day. I am betting he will break tonight. Might make her cry but we will be there to cheer her up”. 

Kamun turns to look at lo’ak concern all over his face, “make her cry? I don't like pushing her to the edge. What if we have gone too far?”. 

Lo’ak was quick to stare at his brother, “do you want to spend your days without her? To not have her around for our pranks and adventures? To not have her around and feel more lonely than ever?”. 

“Alright that is enough lo’ak, we all have the same goal alright? If srefey doesn't break it off we will try something else '' Neteyam cuts off a possible argument. But kamun was right, seeing arachnid cry is the last thing any of them wants. But if it is necessary to get their point across, then it will be a hard choice to make. 

Arachnid is someone the boys love as a sister. Someone they seem vulnerable to the world, she is strong and can stand her own, but pandora is still dangerous even for the na’vi. The need to protect her is a fierce emotion they all have equally, and only want what is best for her. And srefey, isn't not the best for their dear arachnid. 

They dont like how srefey has easily captured arachnids heart, taking her away from them. Not spending much time like she used to. 

“If it works, will she come back to us?” Tik asks, looking up at his siblings. Neteyam strokes his baby brother’s head as to comfort him, “that is right, it will be just like it was. And srefey will only be a bad memory”.

“Srefey!” Arahcnid calls out as she spotted him. From his stance she can tell he isn't happy, not one bit. She really messed up big time. Quickly going to him, carefully choosing the right words.

“Srefey, I am so so so sorry. I know I messed up, I d-”

“Didn't mean to take so long?” Srefey finished for her. His tone was way too calm, his eyes sharp as if piercing into her soul. Arachnid slowly reached out to touch him but he backed away. He really is pissed off. 

“You know…I am a fool to think you were special. That you are not like the sky demons, that maybe I have found what I longed for in you. But no, no you are not special, nothing unique. Just a walking demon that can't even pass as a na’vi. You are just like them all, a liar” 

Each word took a stab at arachnids heart, his anger rising making her fears rise as well. His warm eyes now burn in anger and hate. This isn't what she wanted. 

“Please, srefey, let me explain-” And again srefey had cut her words. 

“Explain what? That you lost track of time? That those friends of yours needed your help? That you couldn't say no to them? Explain what arachnid?!” Tears were ready to escape the poor boy’s eyes. His anger and sadness climbs up to his throat, anymore and he might say more harmful words. 

Arachnid however, she let her tears run like rivers. Her lips quivering and heart beating fast like a drum. This is exactly what she feared, to be rejected. To not be wanted by anyone. 

“S-srefey…” She tries to speak, but all the words were tangled in the back of her throat. Her mind and heart fight, trying to pick what to say to ease srefey, but she knows nothing will. 

A click of the tongue, srefey can't help but chuckle. “I am done, this courting isn't going anywhere. Burn the gifts, I want nothing associated with a sky demon. Farewell, demon” 

Without looking back, he leaves. 

And arachnid is left with her heart shattered, her eyes still glued to him as srefey’s body becomes smaller and gone. 

Never had arachnid cried so hard as she did that night. Running straight to the base and into her room, not bothering to give anyone an explanation. Not caring if Eywa heard her loud cries. Tears never stopped running, her heart never stopped hurting for the whole night. Not a moment of rest came to her. Srefey’s words repeated over and over in her mind.  

And that is how she stayed for days, not interacting with anybody. It made norm and others worry as she doesn't eat much or do anything. Just sit in her room. And that is when they call the sully family in hopes they could do something. 

Only the brothers responded with eagerness. 

While tight in the room, the four boys managed to sit comfortably as they sooth arachnid, trying their best to hide their victorious grins. 

“I am an idiot..he is right…I am a liar and a demon…” Arachnid muttered as Kamun and tik held her in their arms. Kamun gently pushed her braids aside, tucking them behind her ears. “Don't say that, srefey is the idiot. You are not a demon, you are our friend, sister, and more” Kamun tells Arachnid with the softness of his voice. 

“Yeah, who needs that skxawng? He wasnt good enough. Dont let him get to you” Lo’ak adds. And as more arachnid listens, the more she agrees. Perhaps srefey wasnt what she hoped for. Maybe he was like all the rest. 

She is fine without him. 

4 months later 

Arachnid was carrying a basket of sweets as she heads to the sully’s home. Smiling brightly as she makes her way. Ever since her terrible end with srefey, the sullys were there to comfort her. Make her feel better and always know how to lighten her mood. Always there when she needs them. 

So as she climbs, already excited to see their reaction of sweet treats, she hears the boys whispering. Silently, arachnid climbs and as quiet as she can. What are they talking about? 

“Hahaha! Can you believe it's been 4 months already? No doubt arachnid has already forgotten about that srefey” 

That was lo’ak, but why does he sound so smug? 

“Yes, and any attachments left are burned and turned to ashes. Look at her now, back to where she always belonged, with us” that was kamun. 

“It took a long time, but our plans worked. Purposely sabotaging their dates was executed to perfection” what the hell was neteyam talking about?! 

After the reveal, arachnid can't help but want to know what they did. Are they at fault for ruining her relationship with srefey!? 

“The hell you mean sabotaging the dates?!” arachnid shouted as she entered their home. It caught the boys by surprise, all quickly standing, their tails giving away how shocked they were. So now, they were all silent. 

“Well? Aren't you going to say anymore?!” the more silent they are, the angrier the arachnid got. 

“ANSWER ME!” 

“Lo’ak started it!!” Tik gave in. Seeing arachnid angry made her look just as scary as his mama. And a scary spider isn't something he wants. 

“H-he was the one who didn't like srefey in the first place!! He thought that if srefey didn't love you anymore, that you would come back to us! And then, Kamun and neteyam began to plan how to separate you from srefey!” Tik confessed as he let the words slip out of his mouth. 

With a sharp glare, arachnid turned to look at lo’ak, who couldn't look at her in return. “Really lo’ak? What the hell is going on in that thick head of yours!?” arachnid shouted again, demanding really. 

“Well what the hell did you think!? You were spending more time with him than with us! We just wanted you to be hanging out with us. You always do. And that skaxwng thought too highly of himself and began to court you. Who the hell does he think he is?!” 

Lo’ak had enough and began to bark back with his confession. Arachnid left out a scoff, does he really think he is in the right? 

Then she turned to Kamun who wore an expression of guilt. 

“And you went along with it? Tik I get he gets easily impressionable but you!? It is you who gets lo’ak out of trouble not dive head first! What were you thinking!?” 

Kamun scratched the back of his head, guilt breaking him already. “What I thought was best! We missed having you with us. And the thought of seeing you go with that guy, or anyone. I hate it!” 

Groaning deeply, she turns to neteyam whom she was surprised by the most. “Neteyam, you are the oldest of your siblings! You are supposed to be the logic! The brains! Letting lo’ak dig his words into you is beyond me. But you are just as stupid as the rest of them. I can't believe you went along with it and planned it out!! 

Neteyam couldn't say anything as he hung his head down in shame. 

Look at all four now, her anger just keeps rising. 

“When I was crying, when I was heartbroken and depressed, were you all happy that I dug in my misery? Crying, thinking that no one would love me? Was that your sick satisfaction? To see me break down?! And for what?! For you to pick up my pieces thinking only you four can have my attention. Ugh I swear you are all fucking stupid! I can't even begin to describe what I am feeling right now!” 

Walking back and forth, breathing deeply trying to calm herself. 

“Haven't you thought for one damn second that maybe I was happy with srefey? That I reciprocate his feelings for me? That I loved him as much? Only to be turned down thinking it was MY fault when really, it is all of your faults! And srefey! Great mother of all, srefey dealt with it the hardest! Creating all these gifts, spending time to prove his worth! And you fuckers ruined it! Well congratulations! You won! You win, but guess what? I am done. I am done with all of you. I cant anymore” 

Out of breath and dropping her hands, she starts to climb down. None of the boys went to stop her. Knowing that if they did, it will make things much worse. Letting arachnids' words sink in. More guilt and shame washed over them. Regret for what they done. Its true, they have won. 

But at what cost? 

Arachnid ran fast, faster than she ever did in her life. Now that she knows what really happened, why she was kept from being with srefey, who is to stop her now? 

Still remembering srefey’s routine, she headed straight to the river bank of the south. He loved going there to collect fresh water and herbs. And 4 months later, she is glad it hasn't changed. 

Down, near the river, arachnid saw srefey collecting some plants. A new found excitement flowed in her. Quickly, she goes down to talk to him. 

“Srefey!” she calls him. 

Sregey turned, and was surprised to see arachnid.  But it wasn't a happy surprise. He still hasnt forgotten what happened. 

“Go away” he tells in an impatient tone. 

“Please, I want to talk to you,” Arachnid pleaded. 

“I dont, you should go back with the other demons. I have nothing else to say to you” Srefey replies, his patience getting thin by the second. But arachnid was determined. 

“Srefey, if you just let me-”

“STOP!” Was all he said. Glaring daggers down at her. 

Taking a deep breath, she still goes on. 

“Please…if you hear me out, just this once. Listen to what I have to say, what you want to do after is your choice. If you don't want to see me, that is fine. Just please srefey…I need to tell you something” 

Their eyes meet and srefey can't help but soften just a bit. He did miss the color of her beautiful eyes. 

“Fine, speak” he gives in. 

Arachnid wasted no time. She began to explain what happened, and who was the culprits behind the constant interruptions of their dates. 

“They did all of that just to stop us from seeing each other??” Srefey asked. After hearing what Arachnid said, he couldn't help but feel….funny? 

The determination the sully’s had was admirable and give them some credit for not giving up. 

“Yes, and after cussing out at them I ran to find you and here we are…I am still mad at them. But I can't ignore them forever. I don't even know if their father can help fix their mess” Arachnid comments as she tugs a bit of her hair. 

Srefey does feel relieved that there was a reason behind the whole thing. 

Placing a hand on her small shoulder, he brings arachnid to face him. “I am sorry….for saying those terrible things to you. I regret it all. You must have felt the world crashing down on you” he says in a low tone. Arachnid looks down at her hands, tracing her painted stripes. 

“It did…made me think it was all my fault. That I couldn't do anything right no matter how hard I tried. That nothing I could do would be enough. That I will never be enough for you” 

Her words brought more guilt to srefrey. But perhaps…a new bloom can begin anew? 

“I know so much has happened but…what if….we start again? Start all over, and hopefully, this time, no one standing in our way?” Srefey asks. He won't deny, after months of not seeing arachnid, despite what he believed. He missed her so much. A lot of things reminded him of her. And now that he knew that arachnid was never at fault, he was ready. 

“You…you want to court me again?” Arachnid asks hesitantly. Hoping she didn't misheard him. 

And srefey nods, “yes. Yes I want to court you, and I will be better, if you allow me this chance?” 

“YES!” 

In a swift move, she jumped into his big arms. Engulfing her small frame, he holds her close. Damn, he forgot how small arachnid really is. Taking her in her scent, it brought back so many reasons why he liked her in the first place. 

“I missed you holding me like this” arachnid said close to his ear. His tail twitching happily, yes, he missed it too. 

“Come on, let's start anew. We can go to the up planes like we used to. Ride on my pali and eat as much fruit as we want” srefey suggests. Already thinking of many dates ahead of them. 

“Yes, I would like that” Arachnid agrees. 

Holding hands, forgetting of what he was doing, they go off to a new start of their official courting. 

But one thing still remains in question. 

“What about your friends? What will you tell them?” Srefey asks. 

Arachnid hums a bit in thought, “I am still mad at them. But, I think it is them that needs to think of their actions. It really was a sucker move from them. All of them. So, I will give them a day or two and talk to them. Things can end like how it did. But for now, I just want to make up the lost time with you”. 

New happiness bloomed in srefey’s heart. 

“Yes, and I with you. There is much to catch up on, and much more to explore” 

Aaaaaaand that is it for this one! I hoped everyone likes it! Took me forever berceuse of constant rewrites. Until next time, see ya!

-------

Srefey = expect

#avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #kiri #neteyam sully #lo'ak x tsireya #lo'ak sully #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak avatar #sully family #spider socorro #spider x kiri #spider x na'vi #tuktirey #tuk sully #tuk tuk #kiri x spider #kiri x reader #kiri x y/n #kiri x you #omatikaya clan

[lolasimms]

a lots gonna change pt.15

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues, and things change.

next chapter

“It’s currently 9:45 pm, we have a code 245, there’s been a stabbing. Female, age 24, Name; Ellie Williams”

8:00 AM

Ellie had been having a shitty past two weeks, ever since the fight at Joel’s. Part of her longed for your forgiveness, she’d worn her heart on her sleeve, tried to reconcile with you and it all went down the drain because she couldn’t control her anger. She knew a sincere apology would earn her your forgiveness, but she couldn’t bare facing you at the moment.

Sat on the alfresco, basking in the fresh spring air, Ellie sat nursing a warm latte. The backyard that once housed Lila’s playhouse and the swing-set that she and JJ had played tirelessly on, were now gone. The vast lawn only being home to a few stray lawn chairs and the unused barbecue. It was only recently that Ellie had realised how lonely she was. Without Lila here for most of the week, the only company she had was her own, and that was her biggest fear, being alone.

Immediately thoughts of nostalgia flooded her brain, the first time you and her had set up a slip and slide during a hot summer day for Lila to cool off on. The vigorous get togethers you and Dina would put together during the holidays, The time she’d built Lila’s crib in this very backyard with Joel’s help. It was all too much and yet not enough. She yearned for that back, it was all she wanted, no matter how long it would take. Her brain kept repeating the words “Atone, Atone, Atone.”

11:45 AM

“Ellie, look at this shit.” Vic hands her his phone, showing her some meme that usually she’d crack up at. Instead she just glanced at it, let out a fake chuckle and shifted her focus back to the movie that was playing on Vic’s television. Having known her since college, Vic knew her reaction was fake. From the corner of her eye she could spy him placing his phone down and turning to her with a questioning face.

“Alright, what’s with you, you’ve been sulking ever since you got here?” She looks at him in annoyance, who was he to be pestering her?

“I’m fine man, just tired.” She wastes no time turning her attention back to the television, having had enough of the short conversation.

“Els, as much as I’d like to believe that, I don’t. Just telling me what’s wrong?” Vic and Ellie’s friendship had always been the same since freshman year of college. They never got emotional or sappy with each other, they were just those kinds of friends who enjoyed hanging together and most times it was in comfortable silence. So to see Vic so concerned for her made Ellie feel weird. Maybe she did have people on her side, maybe she wasn’t all alone.

“I’ve just been thinking man. I’ve been feeling really alone lately and I” she pauses, taking a breath as a lump forms in her throat. “I just miss my family, I want them back so bad Vic” She didn’t know why she felt so emotional all of a sudden, but she broke down into tears, something unusual for her. Vic didn’t know what to do, so instead he enveloped her in an awkward but warm embrace.

“You’re not alone Ellie, you’ve still got them. No matter what happens you’ll always have them”

2:30 PM

After her heart to heart with Vic, Ellie decided she couldn’t let herself loose the only people she loved. She knew the only way to end these feelings of isolation was to make an effort to spend more time with her loved ones. So the first thing she did was call Joel, asking if he was free. He was taken by surprise, as the two of them didn’t spend as much one on one time together as they used to. So when she suggested they go fishing, he was on his feet getting the gear together in no time.

“How you been, ain’t heard from you since that fiasco at my party?” Joel says, as he prepares his rod and bait. Ellie doing the same with her’s, letting out a subtle sigh and turning to him. The two of them were sat on quite uncomfortable camping chairs.

“I’ve been feeling pretty shitty, Y/n won’t talk to me, she’s still mad.”

“She got a right to be, your lil show was stupid and immature, you’re real lucky Lila was asleep”

“I know, and I feel bad about it.”

“So toughen up, apologise.” He stands up, casting his rod and then looks back at her expectantly, she doesn’t know what to say but just nods. She lifts from her chair and walks over to where he’s standing, casting her rod as well.

“I’m sorry Joel, I know I fucked up your party, I shouldn’t have acted that way” He turns to look at her and shakes his head with a smile.

“Honestly if you’d been fighting anybody else I would’ve been happy, just not under the circumstances that you did. It was sorta entertaining” He lets out a deep chuckle and Ellie laughs, shaking her head.

“I’m so telling Y/n” Ellie smirks as she nudges Joel with her shoulder, causing him to groan and do the same to her.

“Don’t you fucking dare”

5:30 PM

Joels living room looked the same as it always did, dvd’s from years ago lined up on the bottom shelf of the tv stand, brown sofa’s with plaid cushions and a few candles that were surely gifts from you and Lila. A game of basketball played as he and Ellie sat nursing beers and reminiscing.

“You remember your first drink, you spit out my most expensive whiskey?” Joel places his glass on the side table and laughs.

“I hate to break it to you man, but that wasn’t my first drink.” Ellie lifts up the glass of beer, waiting for his reaction to the news.

“What’dya mean that wasn’t your first drink? It was your 21st birthday.” He turns to her, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

“Joel do you really think when I was going to my friends birthday’s in high school I was just drinking pop and juice? You do realise I had my first proper drink in like 10th grade” Ellie can’t help but laugh at his shocked reaction, he truly couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I can’t believe you”

“Get over it dude, it was like 8 years ago,. Plus I turned out pretty okay don’t you think?”

“You wait till its Lila, you little dipshit, then you’ll know how it feels” Ellies face sinks at the thought of her precious girl going anywhere near alcohol, parties, men or women. Joel takes in the angered look on her face and smirks, taking her reaction as his revenge.

7:45 PM

Ellie was currently pushing her trolley around the store, in search for things she wanted to get Lila for her easter basket. The two of you weren’t raising her to be religious, but you weren’t opposed to letting her enjoy the fun aspects of holidays like easter, Christmas, etc. Seeing as easter was approaching, Ellie wanted to go all out for her little girl. Anything purple that had to do with easter she’d throw into the cart, knowing that was Lila’s favourite colour. She couldn’t wait to see the smile on her baby’s face when she saw the basket full of goodies.

Another part of her was excited that you’d be spending easer together as a family, along with Dina, Jesse and JJ. She’d take that as her chance to apologise for what she’d done at Joel’s party. Atone for her mistakes and assure you that she would be willing to respect your relationship with Abby if it meant she’d have a shot at getting you back.

“Hey, Jesse” She had one arm pushing the shopping cart and the other holding her phone to her ear as she waited for his response, glancing around the isles filled with Easter themed decor.

“Hey Els, you at the store right now?” Though she and Dina’s relationship never recovered after the separation, she was still quite close with Jesse. Seeing as he was the only one who was civil towards her despite her mistakes.

“Yeah, picking the shit for the hunt up right now?”

“Sounds good, I know you have Lila tomorrow, would you mind have JJ over, he’s been pestering me about it all day long.”

“Yeah man, sure”

8:20 PM

After leaving the store with a trolley filled to the brim, Ellie was ready to get home and pass out. She’d had a long day and Lila would be coming round early morning, not to mention she’d be looking after two noisy and energetic kids instead of one. As she made her way down her street she was intrigued to see two random cars she hadn’t ever seen before, parked by the curb. Ignoring them, she got the three large shopping bags, from the trunk and made her way into the house.

“Hey Ellie” She’s startled by the voice and immediately recognises it, she reaches to find the light switch. Once the hallway is lit by the bright yellow light she’s met with the familiar blonde from her past, stood in her hallway with a knife clutched tightly to her side . Immediately she drops the bags onto the floor and steps forward. She thanked the God’s that Lila was with you tonight, or else she would’ve died right here.

“Amelia, what the fuck are you doing here? You know I could call the police, right?” Ellie stands with her arms by her sides, fists clenched in anger. If she hadn’t been such an idiot this woman would’ve never ruined her and your lives. She wished that in some way she could go back in time and change all of this, relive the day she got tangled up with this psychopath and steer clear of her at all costs.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it, have you missed me?” Amelia comes closer to Ellie, by this point they’re no more than a few inches away from each other. The only thing Ellie can focus on is the large knife she was holding. Dressed in head to toe black, with a pair of black gloves. Ellie prayed to god that if she was going to die tonight it wouldn’t be you and Lila who came in and found her body.

“It’s been two fucking years Amelia, why do you still care about this, how the fuck did you even get in here?” Ellie is now yelling, looking down at the blonde with fury tainted in her eyes.

“I don’t care Ellie, I told you you’d regret the day you rejected me and I wasn’t lying. Anyways, I have people who will do anything for me, getting a key to your weak door was easy.”

“What the fuck do you want, you have 2 minutes or I’m calling the police, this is breaking and entering as well as trespassing” Amelia is now face to face with Ellie causing the auburn haired girl to recline back in disgust.

“I want you Els, that’s all I’ve ever wanted” The look of raging delirium in her eyes sends shivers down Ellies spine. Amelia reaches forwards enveloping her in a wanting kissing her. Ellie thinks this may be a chance for her to restrain the crazy bitch and then call the police while she’s distracted. She’s however taken aback when she hears a groan and then sees blood pooling on her shirt. Her whole body runs cold, Amelia talking a step back and smirking at the knife that was currently plunged into Ellie’s stomach.

“But I want revenge more”

Ellie hadn’t realised that she’d been stabbed until Amelia had retracted and said those words. She fell to the ground her head crashing against the hard wood floors with a loud ‘thump’. Meanwhile Amelia was laughing maniacally as Ellie slowly became taken by dizziness, her eyes blurring and her ears beginning to ring. She wasn’t afraid of death necessarily, she was just afraid of what the outcomes entailed. She was afraid you’d come here tomorrow morning, to drop off Lila and the two of you would find her dead body laying in the doorway, lifeless. She was afraid Joel would have to live with the knowledge he’d lost the only two daughters he’d ever had. Most importantly she was afraid she’d go out without having earned atonement for all the hurt she had caused. So as she slowly drifted out of consciousness the only thing in her mind were the words “Atone, Atone, Atone, Atone” repeating themselves like a mantra.

taglist;

@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup @bratydoll @wakasaaa @catostrophiclesbian @dinas-a-bird @lazyunknownwerewolf @h3sitant-alien @ceo-of-ellie-simps @mechetegirl109 @kashoot-me269 @lonelyfooryouonly @ellieswifee @doodlebob-mp3 @ellieismami

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #reader x ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #abby anderson x reader #reader x abby anderson

[n0tangeliccc]

Give in

Stan x Fem!Reader

(All characters are 18+)

Warning: Cheating and references to sex

A/N: The bitch is back from her break (yes Im aware I said it would be a week long break but now I’m free of all the things that were stressing me so woohoo!!)

Next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

You’ve always liked Stan Marsh. Maybe it was the way he’d look at you, or the lingering touches you two would share, or maybe even the steamy make outs you two would have in secret. Every little thing he did make you yearn for him even more but there was one problem, Wendy Testaburger, Stan’s long time on and off girlfriend and…you’re best friend.

You had felt guilty when first it happened, Stan had come over to your house after yet another breakup with Wendy and one thing led to another and you ended up under him. It became a common thing, Wendy breaks up with Stan again? Stan comes running to you and you help him relieve his pains and frustrations. Slowly it wasn’t only during their breakups, anytime they’d fight or he just felt frustrated with anything in his life he’d come to you. It wasn’t always for sex, sometimes he’d come to you for comfort.

You and Stan started to get closer as friends and from that you began to develop feelings for him. You knew it was wrong, you wanted to feel guilty again but every time his lips were on yours all those feelings would disappear. Was it really that wrong if it felt right?

The jealousy that ran through your veins whenever you saw him and Wendy together again was painful. You wanted needed him to be yours. You didn’t care if you were being a terrible friend, you didn’t care if Wendy never forgave you, you didn’t even care if it ruined your reputation, you needed him more than you wanted to admit.

Stan felt the same way, you could see it in his eyes whenever he would see you around. He didn’t feel the spark of love with Wendy anymore but he also couldn’t stop going back to her. He got used to the break ups, usually they’d make him mope around and feel like shit but now he had something to look forward too after it. He didn’t think much of it the first time, him and Wendy weren’t together at the time so why did he have to feel guilty? Sure he felt guilty the first time he did it while they were still together but that guilt left him fairly quickly and he found himself running to you for everything and anything.

Every time you guys were together you wished he’d finally give in and left her. You even told him and he simply brushed you off with a “I’ll break up with her soon” but that wasn’t good enough. You couldn’t take it anymore, the tension you two shared every time you hung out with him and Wendy. The poor girl clueless of her boyfriend and her best friend’s affair. You knew she would be heartbroken and you knew she would hate you forever but you didn’t care. You only had one thing on your mind….

Stan Marsh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

Masterlist

#south park x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park x you #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh smut #Shameless SP Series