#I think they could be complicated and messy and painful and fun as fuck

[pepperpixel]

+ Butch 4 Butch +

(Except neither one of them is rlly that butch but holy fUCKING SHIT THAT SONG IS LITERALLY THEM… the version of them I made up in my mind palace… it’s them.)

Anywayyyy. Yeah! Have a tagr art dump..! aka, those vibes when you, out of a series of moments of temporary insanity, end up finding, taking in, nursing back to health and eventually falling into a tangled messy yearning situationship w the asshole tsundere alien who tried to destroy your entire planet… rlly extremely relatable vibes!!

[lackeyhenchman]

"Deep Dive" tag: TY-TY TIME

Belta found an excuse to talk about our durges! Oh nooo, anything but that! (I tag whoever wants to, but the catch is that you have to show me.)

Phobias and Other Fears

Honestly, not a lot. He gets animal fear reactions in the moment, but this man is very psychologically prepared for death. He even gets a complicated rush when people he likes are in danger.

The Urge feels correct to him, but illithid/vampire powers are an unnerving affront to his faculties. And the closer he gets to reclaiming his old life, the more he falls into old anxieties around responsibility and controlling his surroundings. (Forgetting who he is was really, really good for him, alas.) And of course there’s disappointing Father. Which will NOT happen.

Pet Peeves

Barricades, locked doors, secrets in general. His tail touching the ground. Little sisters. Loses patience for children easily, and sometimes cats-- basically anything he can talk to that can’t be made useful. And though he’s loathe to say it outright: closed relationships.

3 items you could find in their bedroom

Well, among the stuff he found discarded by Orin: Handwritten “medical” journals, a concerning number of crotchless pants, and a piece of someone special who he's forgotten entirely.

First thing they notice in a person

“I could take them.” “In a fight?” “Yes, that too.”

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Weirdly good for his middling CON. I imagine he makes up for that by not liking to complain, so like an 8? Once the blood gets flowing he’ll take a few blows to the head and still laugh, but for the most part he just tries not to get hit.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight or fawn, baby! "Are you absolutely sure we can’t be friends? All right, death it is then."

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Family is everything.

What animal represents them best?

Very difficult question! A cuddly snake? One of those cats who plays fetch?? Tom Wambsgans???

What is a smell that they dislike?

Not a useful question for most characters! Plus Durges are canonically always around rot, sewage and bile, so like. What's left, daisies?

Have they broken any bones?

Oh, surely. But I subscribe to the “extra-good demigod healing” kind of Bhaalspawn headcanon, so it’s trivial.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

These days, it's as a contradiction! Scary, sweet, nosy. "I thought he was here to shake me down, but we ended up having a long conversation about my garden plot and my gout." Or just "the reddest guy in the room".

Are they a night owl or morning bird?

This man has never been on the sleep schedule binary in his life. I heard once that in medieval times, people would sleep for a few hours, wake up in the middle of the night and work/fuck/whatever, then sleep some more. Ty is like that. Perpetually murder-napping, woken up frequently by his slasher POV dreams that tell him it's time to work.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

He's over the "drinking bile" thing, doesn't remember why that was fun. But one thing he is looking forward to post-game is eating a lot more people. That dwarf meat was quite restorative! Outside of that, his special treats are prawns (yay coastal hometown) and melon.

Do they have any hobbies?

He's the type to structure his life around his love interest, does that count? He's also a voracious nonfiction reader, magic and science and wars and stuff. And dead people's diaries.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Oh, his heart would explode. Might start crying. Would hug and/or shake everyone's hand. Might even forget to ask why they think today’s his birthday.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Little bit? He appreciates a good regal look, but that kind of dress-up was mostly reserved for Temple events. When your bedroom exits to an altar, you may as well give the people a decorated, dangerous thing.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Pretty neat! I imagine elegant, confident strokes and evenly-sized letters. But gods only know what “neat” means within the disaster that is written Common.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Excitement and confusion. Often at the same time!

Good thing you didn't say three, because then I'd be forced to say "boner".

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Don’t tell anyone this, but: fur. The snugglier the better.

What kind of accent do they have?

Uhhhhhh fantasy British, innit?

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary387

10/13-14/24

sunday - monday

sometimes, dreams do come true.

as always with dreams though, there's many fucked up parts that are kind of horrible and sad! so i was able to get into the festival because my friend from out of town, she came with two other friends, and one got dropped on her head while crowd surfing to cap'n jazz's oh messy life. that was the first day, second day, they had to go to the hospital for her, then she had the okay, then today, there were complications and this is really worrying, i am going to ask about that tomorrow, i think to not be a pest about it today, they came over to pick some stuff up, they left it with us, and my friend asked me on the phone before coming if i'd like her wristband, and i was like... yeah, part of me feels so guilty though, like i don't deserve that level of kindness, i can't really believe people would be so nice to me, or like my gf being so nice to me always too, everyone is really nice to me, i don't get it. i don't do anything good or useful, i feel in fact like i've leeched off of terrible circumstance a bit, and it also feels like it's just that the world is painful and we are fragile, there's a cruel logic to things and this is how they end up, or can end up, good things can be nightmares a little too. but the show was incredible, i got to see the jesus lizard too and they sound great, yow is surprisingly active as a guy still, as in moving around lots, being super expressive, he loves music, you can feel it.

blood brothers though, this was their first show of their tour, and they i think went as hard as they possibly could. jordan at one point brought up being of advanced age, some of the songs being hard, needing a breather, johnny spent most of the show crowdsurfing, he loved it, so many people surfed, it was very exciting, i was at the barricade the whole time honestly the crowd was super respectful. morgan had these insanely loud and low bass synth sounds, at points, deeper than his actual bass, so much sub stuff going on, running some synth into an ampeg head and a sunn cab, idk what head his bass and guitar were going to (he played both, some songs have no bass, just like, baritone (maybe (maybe just guitar where the low frequencies can come thru cuz of the head and cab)) guitar riffing beside the regular guitar, which cody played through a whole orange amp rig. funny to see, sounded very good though, such an odd sound he has i don't know how to describe it. it really is like, i dunno, sharp sounding but not really super high frequency focused? odd odd guitar sound. really great though, i was by morgan but it came through surprisingly well much of the time. the one issue w/ the sound was the kick was kind of fucked up loud, but that's okay, i like fucked up loud basically. i think johnny's voice started to go towards the end a bit, i think both were like that, i don't think they figured they'd be doing such a long set on this tour, but i'm glad i got to see it like this, they did like so many great songs, i like how much they did of the later records, and they did do a (i think just one) song off of march on electric children. also very fun to see johnny play keys. it's definitely the case that morgan and mark are the guys doing so much to make the band work, crazy musicians, everyone in the band is a crazy musician, i think like, they play such fucked up music structurally that it's hard to play perfectly, certainly some mistakes but the looseness helps it feel really cool, idk, they're just playing that shit, going off, i felt it so hard, i was so joyous seeing them too, it's like this violent apocalyptic jubilance, a crazy thing for art to get at.

here i'll insert, when my friend came to drop things off, it was a brief hello, but when two came to pick everything up, they stayed for a while, or an hour, if an hour is a while, we didn't really talk, i just enjoyed having them in the house and serving them, or helping or trying to help, they were so appreciative, that makes me want to cry right now, i felt like i was doing so little, just offering things to them while cooking for my gf, or helping bring out a suitcase and a bag, they're such kind people, it's crazy how kind and appreciative people can be, i did hardly anything i swear, it seemed to mean a lot to them, it makes me want to do more for them, and everyone else.

i also, during the whole set, kept thinking about fear and hunger... this is now the fear and hunger portion of my diary entry...

so daan died...we got to the church, i got the third statue, wandered around a little while, it was fun to figure out how to get through the underground of the church. i was going through, fighting those snail headed freaks, i had to fight a death mask, at least i know where the second one spawns for me, so i can strategize about that (i'll get to this in a moment), i found the path out, but found something rather tragic, a whole scene in the otherworld rher dimension with samarie, where she confessed all kinds of things to marina, who barely knew her... i want to know what goes on with that, i wonder, can i do a play through where i find her as marina and get them together, traveling? something about them together is cute to me or, i don't know... it's like, the game is well written already, but the writing of that scene, genuinely, it hits a story of the eye type feeling, this perverse woman, killer of the father, obsessed with the trans girl who she watched "caressing herself" and putting makeup on for hours, marina not understanding, there is this tragic gulf, there's this excess, the absence of fear of approaching these characters having some, i don't want the word erotic to be taken as my finding this arousing, rather, they exist in that dimension, it's not shied away from really, it adds to the disorienting sadness of the conversation, it's like, not scary, it's tragic, i can't tell if marina forgot her friend who was secretly obsessed, or if she was obsessed from such a difference they just never spoke. but samarie makes it sound like they spoke. i don't know, something about the two of them, they feel equally forced into the role of being objects, i guess, then there's this failure on samarie's part to understand her friend, or even manage her feelings, it's genuinely really moving to me, and then she transformed into dysmorphia (not confusing it with dysphoria), and used hurting on daan, blew his arm off, and then used it on him before he could heal himself, and killed him, making it almost too much to bear, i instantly missed his party talk chatter, how he was so distant and snide, evidently kind or wounded or something though. still in awe at this, miro's ability to make these characters something, not to be cruel about games generally, but it's rare to see that, even in the first one it's a bit... they're very much stereotypes, but messed up, subverted, there's an emotional dimension to them, certainly as you complete the journey with them, you imprint a lot onto them. but in this it's different. eventually, we killed her.

really really sad, we escaped the church, the path to the tower open, a blood portal made as well, we went back to the train, i got the guy who looks like jojo, marcoh, he is very nice too, a kind man. but, honestly, he is not daan, daan is so... maybe i just find him cute, or something, or, he's so charming to me, the way he tries to distance himself, i saw some people say this game is much less depressing than the first, this is untrue, the state i found him in, sitting in a room, trapped, staring into space, when you ask him about a sigil on the floor he says, don't ask questions you don't want answers to. he's grim in a way that's not like, really silly. it feels honest from him. it's not like marcoh feels dishonest he's just a tough kind man, still though everyone in this game feels some kind of pathetic, not saying this cruelly, it is a positive. it makes me want to cry a little, or not a little, it just makes me want to cry. so now this game is in my favorites of all time, i mean it, it's really up there... beside yume nikki and silent hill. i haven't even beat it yet, i just, i don't know, no matter what bothers me about it, its handling of marina, that specific moment with samarie, the fact i want to go back in time even though i have a rather well set up save with 4 characters in my party, 2 hours of progress made, to try and save daan, that's insane right? that's like really meaningful, to me. these characters aren't even so... they're not like intensely strong, it's not like a vn, it's like, you feel attached to them because you feed them, you help them cope, or you see them eat together, and cope together, and then they say just a little more in this one, olivia tries to be absentminded, and talk about plants, can't stop being afraid, karin is always being tough and political, daan is affecting distance... i dunno.

it is silly probably how much i relate to marina, since she is a silent protagonist here, it's mostly that making it work like that, i dunno, this and the first do a good job of making you feel a meaningful connection to those characters in yourself, like you have something of them embedded in you, i guess it might be the suffering? no suffering so intense as what's in the game, but still, its cruel vision of things feels empathetic to quotidian pains.

i'm getting all rambly and emotional about a video game. these are blessed times for me, the fact i have a new favorite of this magnitude, and that i saw the blood brothers, i don't know. i napped, i kept seeing the character move around in my head. just going through places that don't exist. so many special pieces of art in the world:

listening to this song, i'm always reminded of clouds in summer, when it rains and is humid, the huge pillars of clouds, those non-things trying to climb higher than the blue of the sky, it feels like, and the day that was totally clear yet humid (maybe not clear? in my head... maybe there are streaks of clouds, torn up cotton balls in the blue...), where my grandma took my cousin and i to see dolphins at the mgm grand i think. the palm trees, the false tropical environment, the beauty of the animals, their faces. was it the mgm? it might have been another one... whatever though, it was a casino, it could be one that's been torn down. anyway, this song contains that inside it, and more, it has this clumsiness in it, or, it dredges up my clumsy childhood feelings or ways of seeing, simpler things, everything is huge, every emotion, my confusions, my early education in the desire of others, it's all this quiet slow dance thing. i don't know why this song is coming to me now, or why i picked it out of all others, but i really feel it so deeply. i guess this is what happens when there are days like this.

with this, i must sleep,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[egcdeath]

I am back with more succession au thoughts! Your idea of art being competition for the top spot is so big brained it’s amazing and makes total sense and adds so many layers and tension to their dynamic and history I love it so much because it’s so juicy especially if there’s years of shared history with reader too… and it puts patrick in such a classic kendall position of trying to seem fully capable of the job and not like a total mess to his dad and of course because then art can unleash his full inner snake. And kendall and stewy were never really in direct competition either so the potential for angst and messiness is even stronger in this au!

The tom/shiv dynamic with patrick as shiv is also so good because combining him with the misery and emotional rollercoaster that she goes through as the only sibling to actually keep an s/o throughout the show, an s/o that she actually loves even though it’s all complicated and fucked up and kinda unhealthy and codependent, is so interesting. like her arc in season 2 when the relationship with tom starts falling apart at the same time that she truly thinks she has the ceo spot especially comes to mind. failmarriage is objectively the best dynamic on a tv show even though it’s physically painful to watch!! Like S4 tomshiv made me want to tear my hair out but it was so well done and devastating and real

I’ve been rambling but I love combining my two favorite forms of media!

anon i love u so much please never stop sending me your succession au thoughts.

i would LOVE the mess of art being like stewy and patrick being like kendall and you (reader) kinda having a history with art but being with patrick. like not a full on love triangle but definitely some interesting feelings there that maybe could be improved if all of you just kissed idk tho. i also think that patrick struggling to have it all a la kendall roy and art taking that opportunity to try to get into the company would just be so good. like first he tries to steal patrick’s woman and now he’s trying to steal his family’s conglomerate??? sickening!

and patrick being as pathetic as kendall is just really speaking to me. we already see patrick at his lowest picking up cigarettes off the ground and getting his card declined at a shitty motel but like. imagine if patrick was wealthy and still miserable. like trying so hard to please his father who thinks he’s a fuckup. quit tennis LONG ago to appease his family even though he feels like he’s missing something without it. trying so hard to be a good significant other but you’re tired of him acting unhinged and trying so hard to please his dad and having no work life balance and barely any time for you and did he do COKE off your child’s IPAD????

anyway.

tomshiv patrick and reader. i agree with every single thing you said. i think it would be such a fun dynamic to explore! like yeah you’re kinda a gold digger from a small midwestern town and obviously you love patrick but you kinda love his money more. like just a little bit. and you start working at his family’s conglomerate and you’re moving up the ranks and patrick’s dad almost dies and you’re like let’s get married (mostly so you can get a piece of the pie if something happens to his dad) and he asks for an open marriage on your wedding night but you love him and you love his money so you’re hurt but you don’t let it stop you and the pattern of him embarrassing you in front of his family or just in general doesn’t really end but it’s ok because you get your revenge and undermine him with his dad and your relationship is kinda permanently altered and you really do love each other. you do! but you both have a weird way of showing it because his dad never loved him like he should’ve and you’re starting to feel like the love you have for his money is starting to rival the love you have for him. anyway all succession heads know how the show ends so the reader would end up on top but at what cost!

anyway. never feel ashamed of rambling in my ask box. i’ll actually ramble right back at you. succession anon please keep rambling to me!!!

[beetleskeleton]

22 for ask game!

Hello Hello Cosmic!

22. Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Oh where do I even begin. To break this down, I will make points and explain why I like it and feel like it's overlooked. (Oh it's Inscryption related obviously/lh)

-The Photographer is P03's favorite Uberbot. It's never brought up directly in the game, but have you ever noticed how P03 doesn't compliment any of the other Uberbots besides the Photographer? He calls the Photographer cool. Meanwhile with the others he either insults them or doesn't really say anything about them at all. Implies that he dislikes the Archivist because she and her librarians messy and disorganized, says "That's quite enough of that" sometimes when defeating the Unfinished Boss, and literally all of the dialoge before and after the G0lly fight. That bot is picking favorites.

Small little bit and personal interpretation of the reasoning is that P03 still. has. feelings. for. Leshy. Despite everything that happened between them, from the divorce and Act 1, P03 still loves Leshy in a bittersweet sense of being able to reminisce happy memories together but also the painful knowledge that it'll never happen again. Just some food for thought.

-Royal makes fun of his cause of death. In the game, Royal has multiple lines where he makes fun of his cause of death, scurvy. A quick excerpt from the Inscryption wiki has a bit of dialoge from Royal backing this up, reading, "Yar, life didn't give me lemons... So I died.". It's actually quite endearing and funny. But have I ever seen anyone talk about it? NOPE. Talk about Royal more please or I'll do it myself, this is a threat <3/lh

-Magnificus out right in the ending of Inscryption is like, 'My goo mage is already gone, how do you feel about that Luke? Just eject the fucking disk.' Which is guilt trip 101. This is the same guy who painted off Goobert in his own painting as a gift to Magnificus, but why he says that at the end is interesting. Perhaps he knew that Luke, and by extension us, are attached to Goobert and therefore would feel bad and turn off the game to save whatever is left. This could be read as Magnificus being more of a douche than he already is, but I think it's a bit more complicated than that.

I think this is a part of him not being able to accept death and therefore isn't ready to accept his fate. We all know that he can see the future and how his fate is already sealed, but living with it? Bearing the knowledge that he's going to die and there's nothing he or Luke can do but let it happen? Mags ain't ready to die. He even says so himself as the world disappears around him. But he ultimately disappears just like his Goo mage.

Yeah you can probably tell I think about this a lot-/lh

[bisluthq]

Wait am I missing something, how do we KNOW Taylor cheated? I’d guess she probably did but it’s not like there’s hard evidence or she clearly admits to it? // no, this fandom just has a weird obsession with making taylor out to be w cheater. guilty as sin? could be considered emotional cheating depending on who you ask but no, there’s zero evidence pointing to her doing anything physical with matty

ok but lbfr emotional cheating is still cheating. gas + them hanging out a bunch = it was def emotional cheating. she didn't write gas about a person she didn't know lol where yes it could be fantasy. like i could play gas and think of paul mescal based on my sex dream the other day lol but if i play gas and think about idk that girl i still haven't managed to meet up with who i worked with briefly before she came out and I have had a crush on for 5eva then it's no longer pure fantasy. if i play gas and think of like... my/vicky's friend sam.... lol like ok i'm emotionally cheating tbh at that point because... this dude and i text like every day and see each other twice a week? that chick and i text a lot too (depressingly just can't figure out how/when to meet up). so if we combine hanging out + flirtation + fantasies = emotional cheating? it just does? that's the definition of emotional cheating?

and we've had this debate before here where is emotional cheating as bad/worse than physical cheating and i've also said for me that's super dependent on the situation? like if i sleep with a rando tonight, i don't think what i've done to fg in that case is THAT bad (especially given the whole complicated stuff). but if i start going on "dates" with the two people above - i'm not even saying we can't hang 1:1 but like if it starts yk like being... datey... and we're like hanging out romantically but just not consummating lol like super religious people would do... i think FG would be way way way more hurt if i THEN told him like we're done because i have a new gf/bf that i'd set up all neatly for myself. i'd certainly feel that way about him. if he sleeps with someone rn like ok that lowkey sucks but if he phones me to say the limbo's over because he's dating one of his FRIENDS or an ex-gf i'd be fucking DEVASTATED.

i also just like... idk guys my first bf emotionally cheated on me and i'm still salty about this like this many years later. i'm not that fucked off he left, godspeed and all, but i hate that he was acting me like i was insane about thinking about that girl (i didn't even really worry i was just like "so you and alex are spending a ton of time together, can i meet her?" and he got weird about it so i'm not stupid and I KNOW) and i'm still salty this far long after because when we broke up I ASKED lol i was like "are you breaking up with me to try with alex?" (this btw is her real real real name, i still dislike her till now) and he was like "NOT AT ALL! it's because we've stalled and i think you need a chance to explore your sexuality" and like fair i did lol need that BUT he DID leave me for fucking alex. and it still bothers me.

i've been in messy shit where everyone fucked around and it never upset me as much. even fg like sleeping with someone - now especially but even when we were formally very very livein and partnered - wouldn't devastate me in the same way.

something not being consummated doesn't make it less painful.

taylor 100000% emotionally cheated.

she probably also did get cuddly with him because that's just her personality.

joe might've emotionally cheated too, taylor thinks he did. idk the guy. she can't know that either really.

cheating doesn't always have to literally be fucking.

OH ALSO. like fg and i have always had a very open thing about kissing because we just like kissing lol and we've kissed other people while together in front of each other and not in front of each other but mentioned it lmao. that actually WAS NOT cheating, it was just physical fun in line with our personal rules. (we did stop doing this more recently because again we both do just get insanely jealous). so like. idk. life's complicated.

but taylor did emotionally cheat on joe (idk what happened physically or what tj's rules on that type of thing were)

[aeneas75]

1

This story starts in a kitchen in a ground floor flat in Somers Town, an inner city estate nestled between three big London terminus. There are two women in the kitchen. The elder, thin and proud with collar length silver hair is seated and dressed as if she is about to go to lunch at a Michelin starred restaurant in a fashionable full length skirt, black polo neck and kitten heels.  

The younger has dark hair swept up in a messy bun and busies herself around the kitchen in leggings and hoodie.

They may be grandmother and granddaughter but there is no family resemblance between the pale skinned younger and rosy cheeked elder. However the warmth between them suggests something more than a professional, hired-help, relationship. 

“Oh Cici. I know that expression and I do not like it one bit.”

“I’m fine. Honestly.”

The older woman did not take her eyes off the younger despite the latter trying to ignore her, busying herself packing away the weekly food shop while the silver haired woman sat impassively, sipping her tea. 

“Cici, I know you. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes.”

Cici sat down and took a sip of her tea,

“Good tea Isobel. You make the best tea.”

“Cici. Talk.”

“Josh and I split up. No, Josh dumped me. No, actually, it's worse than that. Josh’s ex, well who thought was his ex, Sarah, you know, annoying posh blondie at work who I only sometimes fantasise about murdering…”

“That one who always speaks in meetings and even though she comes out with absolute drivel all the bosses think she’s wonderful?”

“Oh, no, that’s Celine, my actual nemesis. Sarah is not on that level. She’s just the annoying pretty blonde who used to fuck my boyfrend. Sorry. Used to go out with my boyfriend. I only think about murdering Sarah once a week or so. With Celine it’s daily.”

“‘I’m 78 Cici, not a nun. But I don't like it when you swear. It’s vulgar and you are better than that. Please go on but I’m beginning to think you might have anger issues.”

“My anger issues need to get in line behind my anxiety, social awkwardness and all round inability-to-function-in-the-modern-world issues Isobel. 

“Anyway, annoying Sarah comes in and is waving this big rock on her finger and all the girls in the team are running to her and there are dogs south of the river in pain with the noise they are all making. "

She was agitated, her knee bouncing, fidgeting with her hair. 

“And I go toward her trying to work out what the appropriate and not at all patronising thing to say when your boyfriends ex who you didn't even know was dating anyone gets engaged to some rando and then I look over and see Josh getting handshakes and back slaps from the tech boys and he sees me and gives me this weird look half smug and half apologetic and i’m thinking No no no no this is not happening and when I get to Sarah and the coven around her she's telling them how Josh spoke to her father on Saturday afternoon then took her to that fancy rooftop restaurant next to St Pauls and got down on one knee.”

“Oh Cici”. Isobel reached out to stroke Cici’s hand and silence settled between them.

“I got away with it, I think. Some crazy pride thing kicked in and I gave my best fake smile and said how happy I was for both of them and gave her a hug and waited just long enough before I slipped away to cry in a cubicle in the ladies with my fist in my mouth so no one could hear. 

“And i managed to stay till 5pm and left saying I had barre class even though that’s every Wednesday but no one noticed and I’m just trying to work out how i could be so fucking stupid. Sorry. And for Josh, I mean he’s fun and handsome in a posh boy way but he was never The One and I knew that.

“I knew we had gotten together when they were on a break and that things were “complicated” and we had to be discrete and I thought I was being the better woman saving her feelings when all the time I was just the side piece.”

Her voice cracked a little, just enough that someone who knew her well could sense the epth of hurt and anger.

Isobel nodded and waited a while before responding, gently, “How long have you been together?”

“Six months, well would have been six months in a couple of weeks and when I saw him last, on Friday night, the night before he proposed, I talked about going away for our six month anniversary and he just grunted. Which isn't really out of character so I ignored it. 

“But, the signs were all there. The secrecy. Like I could see why we would keep it quiet at work but he never introduced me to his family or any of his friends. Because I was just a dirty little secret on the side. 

“He messaged me that night, to apologise for not giving me the heads up but said that when things calm down we can go back to the way things were. 

“I almost threw my phone across the room before remembering it’s still in contract and I can't afford a new one.”

“You don’t always have to make everything a joke Cici. Not with me. It’s ok to hurt.”

She smiled and mouthed thank you as she breathed through welling tears. 

“I’m more humiliated than anything. I mean, I’m meant to be smart. An adult female with a career and, and …. I can’t stay there Isobel. They’re bringing a pile of wedding magazines in on Monday to look at dresses together and talking about hen weekends and just can't do it. 

“I can say I‘m sick and work from home but only for a while, they’re enforcing the minimum three days in the office. And I hate it there anyway and it’s just, Everything. My anxiety was back before all this and I’m keeping it at bay with yoga and barre and reading loads and going to bed on time. But…

“I’m not you Isobel. Look at you, you're a real London girl, you look amazing all the time. I’m a fuck-up from the sticks who is trying to make it and be someone I’m not and just want to hide from the world somewhere in the middle of nowhere and read and paint and feed the local cat and not speak to anyone.”         

“And, also, and I‘ve been putting off telling you this but I think I'll have to move out. Lucy’s sister is moving down to London so she has said I need to look for somewhere else. She’s not chucking me out, she’s being decent. She said she can sleep on the sofa while I find something else, and it's not new or anything, they have been talking about it for months. 

“I‘ll try and get somewhere close and regardless I'll still do your shopping every Friday and come for Sunday lunch. I’m not breaking up with you,” they laughed together and Isobel gripped her hand tight.

“You’re my best friend in this city Isobel. Wherever I end up I'll still be around. If you’ll have me.” 

“God Cici, if I really am your best friend in this wonderful city then things really are worse than I thought. I might make good tea but I'm hardly a suitable partner in crime for an attractive young single woman.

“More tea?”

They sat in silence, Cici glad she didn't have to make conversation, Isobel’s head nodding in thought. 

“When you say You can’t stay there, what do you mean?” 

“‘I’m going to quit. I feel sick about seeing either of them. If I loved the job I would swallow my pride and push through but i don't, i hate it. I have a little bit saved, not much but I won't starve while I find something else.”

“And do what?” Her eyes were sharp despite her age, Cici could see flashes of the  formidable political operator she once was. 

“I’d love to tell you I'm going to change my life, go back to painting, try and see if I can make a living from it, but in reality I'll get something similar, Digital marketing or web design stuff. I’ve got a bunch of user experience design qualifications from them so I will get something and it will be equally shit but it will be different shit for a bit.”

“Why not change your life and paint? You’re good. Better than good. I’ve told you I will pay for my portrait. Going rate too, no favours. And paint pictures of horses and dogs to sell while you build a reputation.”

“I can’t afford it. Even if I had the energy and focus to paint living in London, it would be crazy financially. I just couldn't pay the rent without a full time job, even sharing with three or four strangers. I’m sorry I‘m not braver but I can't make it work.”

Isobel nodded and the silence resumed.

“Did you mean that? Painting and living somewhere you see nobody? Loneliness can be more difficult than you think.”

Isobel’s pale blue eyes met Cici's brown eyes and they shared a look that told a story of love and friendship and gratitude. 

“Maybe not forever. But for a while.” 

“You know I‘m going to Malcolms for Christmas, aren't you? I’d invite you if I thought, well you are invited”

“No, your family, not mine. I’d feel an intruder. I hate Christmas. Christmas is for people with families. Ideally I'd spend it alone and eat Quality Street and drink wine all day but Lucy will bully me into going to her mums and I’ll drive back from hers to wherever I‘m staying first thing on Boxing day. But I just want to be alone.”

“You’ve been good to me Cici. No, don't wave it away like that. I appreciate it. I appreciate this. And I think I can help you for once.”

Cici smiled indulgently at her neighbour and friend. She had wielded power and influence once, had her own Wikipedia page, even though it was Stub, with a list of her “First woman in Politics to…”

But now she lived alone, hale enough to resist attempts to put her in a home, frail enough to need help carrying her weekly shop that she insisted on doing in person. 

She video-called an adored daughter in Rome every few days, and saw her banker son, Malcolm, every couple of weeks when he could make it in from Hertfordshire to see her, even though he passed within a few dozen yards of her flat four times a week on his way to and from his City office. 

“I still have a house in Scotland. It was Fraser and I’s first home, in the small town he was from, up in the Highlands. We kept it when we came to London, it’s so long ago I can't remember but I think we gave it to Finlay, his brother, to stay in for a while. 

Cici couldn't imagine anyone just giving away a house. 

“Then when Finlay moved away it became a family holiday home. We spent every school holiday there for a while. Kirsty loved it. Malcolm less so. We would use it in the English holidays, Finlay and Jess and their kids in the Scottish holidays, and cousins and whatnot would get use of it too. It’s in a pretty glen, if you like hills and moors and rain and nowhere you can walk in heels.”

“Then when the kids all grew up we rented out to someone, a friend of Finlay’s daughter I think? Fraser always planned for us to move back but I‘m not a small town girl Cici”, she gave a conspiratorial smile. 

”But when Fraser…..” She shrugged and left the words unsaid. 

“It’s had a lovely family in it for a few years but they have moved out to buy somewhere locally. Malcolm of course wants me either to sell it or “make real money” by turning it into a holiday let but it’s a small home for a young family and I won't do that. Fraser would be appalled.”

Despite herself Cici leaned forward and shuffled to the edge of her chair. She wasn't really, she couldn't seriously be offering…  

“It’s been empty for a few weeks, and Eilidh, that’s Findlay and Jess’s youngest, she's an interior designer in Edinburgh and very talented too, you remind me of her…Sorry where was I? 

“Yes, Eilidh has given it a makeover and it’s rather pretty now. If you give me my tablet I’ll show you…

“There is a young family from the village moving in at the start of January. They’re moving back from Glasgow so have things to organise.”

Oh. No. She wasn't offering that. 

“But I don't like the idea of it being empty for weeks on end. Highland winters can be harsh. And I don't like the idea of houses lying empty at all really. 

“It’s at the other end of the country so it's a big commitment. You can't pop back to London for the weekend and really are in the middle of nowhere.”  

Yes. Yes. Cici was packing in her head before her friend had stopped talking. 

“But what about you? I can’t leave you for that long.”

“Yes you can. We can do a big shop just before you go, I have a few lunches planned in December anyway then I'm off to Malcolms in the blasted Shires. I’ll be fine. Well as fine as i can be in the country. And we can meet here again in the New Year and you can tell me how much you missed London. 

“And of course you can stay here while you get a new place sorted, even if I can only offer you a sofa in London.”

“Then Yes. If you're sure. I’d love that Isobel, let me run away for a while. Let me disappear and work things out.” Cici hugged her and fought back tears of relief and gratitude.

[1ore]

what do yuri, trahearne, and lastborn wish someone would say to them? and from who? the mega version would be all the permutations of yuri, trahearne, and lastborn re: themselves. you can ofc include ximone and hæma if it’s relevant or fun. or npcs ofc okay BYEEE (dodge rolls away)

truly off the shitts today i see. (rolls up my sleeves)

Yuri:

I would say that Yuri wants to be told he’s not a complete fuck-up, but every time he’s been told that, he’s been even less at peace with himself. So. (see: Trahearne’s dialogue regarding Apatia.)

What he REALLY needs to hear is that it does not matter if he’s a fuck-up. I think the Lastborn (our other resident fuck-up) is the first to tell him that, or maybe to cement what Ximone has been trying to tell him all along. Either way, eventually he must become secure with the fact that he has done both tremendous wrong and tremendous good by the people he loves, and that—despite everything—it’ll work out the way it’s meant to. Will he ever make peace with this? Probably not. He has a thick skull and a soft heart and needs to be taught this lesson over and over and over again.

OTHERWISE… take your pick:

From Trahearne: Literally anything that isn’t “kill me” during Trahearne’s No Good Very Bad Elder Dragon Depression  ⠀

From Ximone: Are We Good. You’ll Tell Me If We’re Not Good. We’re Good Right. You Won’t Hide Your Pain Like A Scared Animal Will You. Yuri doesn’t like being shut out of people’s stupid acts of self-sacrifice, especially when he could be the one doing a stupid act of self-sacrifice. <- man who is about to eat his words.   ⠀

From the Lastborn: An answer to the question “What are we……………” at least during their time on the lam, when things are tense and complicated between Yuri and Trahearne. But really, Yuri just doesn’t believe the Lastborn when he says exactly what he means. Mostly he’s afraid that the Lastborn is hiding how he really feels in order to protect Yuri, because it does not compute for him that a guy can be so secure in himself that he doesn’t feel bruised when Yuri takes shelter in him like some kind of older gay mentor-crush. (Nevermind that he’s younger than Yuri, and nevermind that this ends up growing beyond a relationship of convenience.)   ⠀

From Captain Marshal Logan Thackeray himself: something completely deranged and fucked up so that Yuri can finally put an end to this stupid, messy crush that refuses to die. (Ximone knows that no matter what comes out of that man’s mouth, this will not happen.)

⠀

The Lastborn:

Oy vey. Going along with the last ask, he does not want to be left behind, and both craves and loathes the idea of unconditional love. I think in general he wants people to be rigorously honest with him and with themselves about the nature of their relationship, because the Lastborn is a career straddler-of-boundaries, and he never knows where he fits in other peoples’ lives. (And I say “boundaries” as in boundaries of identity, more than relationship boundaries.) He is constantly bracing himself for the day when everyone wakes up and realizes he’s no good, or something.

Otherwise:

From Trahearne: we’ve been through this already LOL. But apart from mom-in-law drama, I think the Lastborn really wants to hear Trahearne own the ways in which he has hurt the estranged members of his family, or at least acknowledge their pain as legitimate. Part of this is for the Lastborn’s sake, but part of it is also out of genuine concern for Trahearne’s well-being, what with the whole harboring an Elder Dragon thing. My man you are one of us cockroach motherfuckers now, whether you like it or not. ⠀

From Yuri: Acknowledgements of humanity. Again, something Yuri is typically good at because of his bleeding heart. But when Yuri DOES have genuine beef with a group or with a person, the impulse to write them off as cardboard cutout villains hurts even more. The Lastborn wants him to understand that when he says these things, he isn’t hearing “those bad people over there” but “those bad people and also me, the guy he just inexplicably hasn’t realized is a Bad Person yet.” ⠀

From Ximone: That he’s smart/insightful/thoughtful. He thinks of himself as shallow for this, but it’s both a thrill and a source of imposter syndrome when Ximone—someone whose insight and perspective he really values—sees him that way. ⠀

From Haema: How she Really feels about him leaving the Nightmare Court, fucking off to the Silverwastes, making peace with Trahearne (and, to some extent, the Pale Tree) etc. He would Rather Die than use his words to ask this. At least until he finally gets fed up with himself and just blurts out the unspoken thing, in true Lastborn fashion. ⠀

⠀

Trahearne:

That he’s not a monster. but also don’t say that because this means you’ve fallen for mordremoth’s TRICKS!!!!!!!! and also he doesn’t deserve it. it’s messy in here.

Anyway:

From the Lastborn: There’s a conversation that they’re (read: Trahearne is) avoiding having about damage mitigation. I think it’s alien and uncomfortable to Trahearne that the Lastborn can revel in being a social pariah with ~dangerous powers. The Lastborn walks this fine line of rigorous introspection and self-regulation, which he sees as necessary to protect the people around him, while also whole-heartedly living in a world that’s committed to hurting him and testing his limits. (Or at least, he becomes this way after meeting Yuri and Trahearne.) ⠀ I think Trahearne wants practical guidance in this area, and feels like it’s his responsibility to learn how to control this uncontrollable Dragon magic, but admitting that he wants this is as good as admitting that he deserves to live. And also potentially endangers the Lastborn. So he broods about it. ⠀⠀

From Yuri: Oh boy. So many things. Every day is like a game of 6D chess. “Is it ethical for me to do smalltalk with Commander Yuri Six-Cants, knowing that I harbor an Elder Dragon? The greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,239 pages of heated debate.” ⠀ While he’s in the pits, I think Trahearne really, truly believes that getting Yuri (and the Lastborn) to accept that he’s a lost cause would bring him peace. But he is also Very aware that part of him still wants to be a part of their lives, what with how often he slips up and falls into old habits. This pulling in and pushing away is frustrating for everyone involved, not the least of which includes him, and it makes his desire for normalcy / a return to what they used to be (but can never, ever be again) all the more painful. ⠀ So like… Wouldn’t you like to know, Commanderboy. ⠀

From Ximone: LOL initially he just wants her to talk some damn sense into Yuri and the Lastborn. But failing that, I think he wants to understand why she fell in with Yuri when he had his little episode. It’s easy for him to write off Yuri’s actions as a lapse in judgement driven by sentimentality (and, like, he’s not wrong.) Substitute sentimentality for nihilism, and he can do the same for the Lastborn. But Ximone is a seasoned veteran at navigating impossible dilemmas, and so she’s harder to write off. I think it takes her two cents to get the shit that Yuri and the Lastborn have been saying to finally start percolating through Trahearne’s thick skull.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Ma Neteyam pt.8

 Part 7, Part 9

Summary: Lo'ak has a knack for kicking up trouble.

Warnings: swearing, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, sexual tension, power imbalance, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, violence, alchohol consumption

“To virginity,” Vamai raised the wooden cup high in the air. “Who needs it anyways?” She laughed before clicking her cup against Neteyam’s. He rolled his eyes at her obvious smugness concerning the topic. Ever since he was let out of the tent this morning she had been acting as if she were an infamous matchmaker that had made the whole thing happen. 

The Sully boy figured there were times when it was simply best to just let the girl have her fun. Fighting against her ideas would only result in a headache. 

He tried to imitate the other omega who was drowning half the liquid in one go, but the taste was more bitter than he expected. His eyes squinted shut as he forced himself to swallow the alcohol. Neteyam had only tried inhibiting substance once earlier that year at a festival. He was only allowed one glass and although it was strange, he didn’t remember it burning his throat as much as this concoction. 

“It’s awful!” He sputtered out. Vamai’s laughter picked up, studying the pained expression across her friend’s face. 

“It’s just rich from being marinated for so long. Have you even had alcohol before, Nete?” Her mocking words made Neteyam glare back at the girl. He didn’t like that way her assumptions made him feel exposed as they were usually pretty close to the truth. 

“For your information, I have.” No need to tell her it was only one drink. 

Shifting to her knees, Vamai raised her eyebrows in a way that told Neteyam she considered him ‘a delicate little flower’. Her words, not his own. While the teasing did get to the omega at times, he couldn’t deny how much her company meant to him. He needed a break from overprotective alphas that bossed him around day in and day out, even if one alpha in particular made him cum till he could barely remember his own name. 

“What was Kxolo talking about last night, anyways?” Her confident composure slipped for a moment as Neteyam intently stared her down. 

“I didn’t think you would remember that with the way you were unable to string together a sentence.” Vamai tried to smirk back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Come on! Who am I going to tell anyways?” He held his hand up in surrender. Neteyam felt silly for wanting gossip so badly but he was quickly tiring of only talking about his complicated relationship with the Olo’eyktan. 

“Well I guess that is true since your boyfriend seems to already know.” Vamai pinched her chin, feigning a thoughtful look. 

“Yeah and how is that fair? Why did he get to know before me?”

“Trust me, Neteyam. I had no intention of letting my Olo’eyktan find out about my sexual relationships. I still haven’t figured out how he knew. That man can be scary sometimes. I swear he has eyes in the back of his head!” Vamai dramatically whipped a hand through the water in frustration. 

“You’re telling me.” Neteyam muttered under his breath. “Hold on a sec, can we touch back on the sexual relationship part of that? You and Epok have been…you know..” The omega trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. 

“Great Mother, Neteyam! You lost your virginity last night and you still have a hard time saying the word sex.” Her messy hair blew in the wind as the girl continued to giggle uncontrollably. Neteyam’s jaw clenched at the scene. 

“Stop deflecting!” He accused, taking another swig of the nasty liquid. Vamai scoffed as she watched Neteyam struggle to get down another gulp. 

“Yes, Neteyam. Epok has been fucking me.” Neteyam choked on his wine at the blunt language. “How else do you think we got this alcohol?” Vamai sat back comfortably, arms resting on her propped knee. Her gleaming eyes sparkled with amusement. 

“So then you guys are like…together?” The boy questioned, setting his cup down for good with a grimace. 

“It’s called friends with benefits, Nete.” She threw her head back to finish off the last of the dark drink, silently wishing she had asked for more to split between the two. One cup was never enough to get her tipsy. “He has needs and so do I. Conveniently they compliment each other quite well, so at the end of the day everyone wins.”

Neteyam was familiar with the term, having heard a conversation between Lo’ak and one his other alpha friends about it. He didn’t get much out of it before Lo’ak was shooing him away, but he knew the basics. 

“Oh well, I guess that’s nice then.” His fingers drummed against his crossed legs. 

“Well it’s more than nice, silly boy.” She kicked her foot against his knee teasingly. “But yes, it works well. He is a beta so I don’t have to worry as much about jealousy and being bossed around. And meanwhile, he gets the best ride of his life.” She confidently tossed her hair over one shoulder. 

“And you are sure you’re ju-”

“Mystery solved!” The booming voice from behind,startled both omegas into whipping around drastically. Kxolo strode confidently in their direction from the other side of the lake. 

“Shit! It’s Olo’eyktan.” Vamai panicked, looking for a place to hide the cup. “Destroy the evidence!” She whispered harshly at Neteyam. He chucked the cup and liquid into the nearest bush without another thought. The two stood nervously as they watched Kxolo confidently approach. 

“Now is the time to turn on your charm, Neteyam.” Vamai whispered out of the corner of her mouth. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach at the words.

“I don’t have a charm.” He urgently whispered. His eyes raked back and forth across the Olo’eyktan’s face to see if he was already angry.

“Well you better find it.” She gritted out before the male was in earshot. 

“Olo’eyktan.” Vamai greeted respectfully, touching her forehead to sign ‘I see you’. “What a surprise. Neteyam was just talking about how much he misses you.”

“I know you two took the wine.” Kxolo cut in, crossing his arms over his chest. Towering over the two in a wide stance, Neteyam couldn’t help but shrivel a little. His mind scrambled uselessly to find a way out of trouble. 

“What? Wine? Didn’t know you were missing any, but we will keep an eye out for it. Won’t we, Neteyam?” A firm look to the other omega, had Neteyam nodding his head. 

“Don’t bother, I could see you drinking from the other side and Neteyam is already about to topple over.” The boy furrowed his eyebrows, about to defend his sober state but one look down made him realize he was in fact swaying from side to side wobbly. When did he get tipsy? 

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” Kxolo chuckled, giving an amused shake to his head. “This time.” he added and Vamai’s smile dropped. 

“Sorry Olo’eyktan.” She mumbled, toes kicking against stray rocks. Neteyam watched her kick at a purple little rock, admiring the beautiful shade. It took him a minute to realize that all eyes were on him. His head whipped back and forth between the two. 

“Oh! Sorry.” He squeaked nervously. A fond grin spread across the alpha’s face, seemingly less upset. 

“Come on, naughty boy.” Kxolo’s voice was laced with amusement as he slipped three fingers around Neteyam’s loincloth strap and used it to tug the boy towards him. Neteyam stumbled and shuffled until he fell against the male’s warm chest. “Time to get ready for bed.”

Kxolo repositioned the omega until he was standing properly and tucked into his side safely. The boy couldn’t help but lean eagerly into the larger form, taking in the alluring scent of his mate. The three walked back together as Vamai rambled on about her favorite drinking stories she had heard. Kxolo could barely register a word she said as he continued  to peek down at the sweet omega clinging to him. A warm feeling settled in his chest, content that his whole world was finally by his side. 

The rumbled breathing beneath Neteyam’s ear had him slumbering effortlessly. As always, Neteyam was curled sweetly around the larger male, cocooned safely by muscular arms holding him against the Olo’eyktan’s heaving chest. The familiar musky scent had made it easier for the omega to drift off night after night as he grew to associate the smell with being coddled in Kxolo’s arms. 

“Olo’eyktan!” The earnest voice cut through the tent to awaken both males. Kxolo immediately pulled Neteyam flush against his body, ready to shield him from harm. His growls died down as he recognized the form at the entrance of their tent as one of the alpha warriors currently on watch. “Sign of Sky People just outside the village. Perhaps a whole squad of them!” 

Neteyam could feel his heart lurch into his throat, his father’s war stories instantly coming to surface in his head. Kxolo was quick to react, jumping from the ground to secure a long knife in its sheath across his chest along with his bow and arrows swung over the expanse. 

Even with only the dim light coming through between the tent flaps, he could see the stone cold concentration masking his mate’s face. No signs of sleep were present in those eyes as Kxolo went from zero to one hundred in under a minute. 

“Neteyam.” The unyielding voice bit out harshly. “Stay. Here.” There was no room for arguing. Kxolo disappeared before the omega could utter a word. 

His heart hammered against his ribs, mind swirling in a whirlpool of thought. He wanted to go and fight, but there were no weapons for him here. He was sure even if he tried, Kxolo would have him off onto the sidelines in a matter of seconds. 

Who would he be though if he didn’t at least try?

“Bro.” Neteyam practically jumped out of his skin at the voice. He swiped his body around to face the enemy head on, hands already clenched into fists. 

Golden eyes stopped him in his tracks. It was like seeing a ghost. 

“Lo’ak?” Crouching at the entrance of the tent, covered in battle stripes of red and orange was Lo’ak. Neteyam wasted no time in pulling the younger alpha into the tent. 

Their bodies clashed together into a messy hug as Neteyam’s mind ran at a million miles per hour trying to figure out if he was hallucinating. 

“Who else would it be, bro?” Lo’ak chuckled, but tears were already gathering in his eyes. He breathed in his older brother’s familiar scent. He wanted to bask in the moment, ask Neteyam one hundred questions but they were already on borrowed time. 

The two pulled away, Neteyam’s pupils blown wide. A rush of emotion coalesced together into a muddled mess. Fear of the Sky People, relief at seeing his brother, anxiety towards what would happen if Lo’ak was caught; they all formed into a wave on the brink of consuming Neteyam. 

“What are you doing here? It’s not safe. Sky People are just outside the village.” His eyes flashed uneasily around their surroundings to make sure no one had spotted them yet. He tilted his head in confusion as Lo’ak let out a deep chuckle with his head thrown back. 

“I really have missed you, Neteyam.” The words dripped with fond amusement. “There aren’t any Sky People out there, bro.”

“How do you know?”

“Who do you know that has access to military and lab human equipment? Setting it up to look like a camp was almost too easy” Lo’ak’s arrogant smirk, made Neteyam's stomach twist as he realized what was really happening. 

“Come on, we have to go before they realize it’s a set up.” Lo’ak eagerly tugged at his older brother’s arm to get him moving, but the omega pulled away. 

“Wait bro, this is dangerous. If they find you here-”

“The family is a mess, Neteyam. Tuk misses you. She’s pissed at me for not filling in for you. Kiri spends most of her time at the healer’s tent. Mom and Dad are going crazy trying to find a way to bring you back home. You should’ve seen what Dad was like after your last visit.” Dread curled in Neteyam’s stomach. “This is our chance, but we have to go now!” 

Guilt weighed down heavily on the omega at his younger brother’s words. His family was suffering without him and here he was purring under the neighboring Olo’eyktan. His heart yearned for the older male, but Neteyam couldn’t be selfish. Lo��ak was there risking his neck in order to help him escape, something Neteyam failed to do on his own. 

It was time to evaluate his priorities.

He was the oldest so it was his job to look after his family. 

He had to run, and it had to be now. 

Contempt and self loathing began to mix together inside of him as Neteyam thought about how ridiculous he was being. He was falling for the enemy, the same man that tore him from his home. No amount of mental safeguarding had protected Neteyam from the inevitable, so there was only one shield left; to put as much distance as possible between himself and the alpha. 

The village was eerily silent with only the occasional far-off commands being whispered. The fear of war hung heavy in the air. Families kept to themselves in their homes and hammocks. Only seasoned warriors jogged lightly towards the sight, ready for battle. Neteyam felt his lungs seize, knowing that the clan was in such a state just so that he could escape. 

The two crawled along the forest floor, bodies shielded by the thick greenery surrounding them. Lo’ak promised his ikran was only a little ways outside the village at a lake. Neteyam tried not to think about all the memories he had at that lake. 

Both of their ears perked on high alert at every shuffle and echoing voice that rang through the trees. The omega was unsure whether the energy running through his veins was adrenaline or anxiety. Either way, he was terrified of how this night could end. 

When they finally made it to the edge of the lake, the two broke out into a sprint towards the ikran crouching in the bushes. They didn’t make it far before, Neteyam was yanking them to a halt. His heart skipped a beat. 

Vamai’s pupils were blown wide, body stiff in the cool air. It felt unnatural to see her so still, so serious. 

“Nete, w-what are you….and who-”

Neteyam was quick to close the distance between them and grasp the girl by the upper arms.

“Please don’t say anything Vamai! Just pretend you didn’t see us, I’m begging you.” He put all of his frantic energy into the plea, willing to cry if that’s what it took to get her to agree. Her eyes however were focused on the alpha standing behind him.

Lo’ak too watched her suspiciously, not sure what to make of the encounter but ready to step in at a moment's notice. Their eyes narrowed at one another, silent threats filling the air. 

“Neteyam, go home before Kxolo realizes you are gone! Do you have any idea what he will do when he finds out that you are running away, again?!” Neteyam bristled at the warning but it was Lo’ak that jumped in.

“That asshole isn’t going to do anything if he knows what is good for him.” Lo’ak hissed between clenched teeth, already shifting Neteyam behind his taller form. Something ignited in Vamai that the omega had never witnessed in her before. The look of icy hot rage was foreign in the girl’s countenance. 

“What did you just say about my Olo’eyktan?!” Warning bells rang in Neteyam’s mind as he watched Vamai’s tail go taunt and ears flick upwards at attention. Her voice was almost an octave lower with narrowed eyes that focused on Lo’ak with a lethal intensity. 

Lo’ak being Lo’ak refused to step down, taking that question as a challenge instead of a warning. The competitive glint in his eyes was never far away even in dire situations like these. 

“You mean the psycho that abducted my older brother?” Lo’ak gave his famous one-sided grin as arrogant confidence rolled off of him in waves. The comment had her crouching into a combative position, on the verge of brawling. 

“You keep my Olo’eyktan’s name out of your mouth before I beat your ass right here, you mouth breathing branch eating warrior wannabe!” The words were venom on the girl’s tongue, only pushed further at the smug look Lo’ak maintained. 

“I’m terrified.” Lo’ak mocked with a smirk as he stood tall with his arms crossed over his broad painted chest. 

Neteyam quickly sandwiched himself between the two in order to stop Vamai from lunging at his brother. Every minute on the ground was one that could be spent increasing their odds of making it out undetected. He was too worried about his own ass beating to deal with their haughty attitudes. 

“Vamai please just don’t say anything! I promise I will be careful.” Her gaze softened slightly at the anxious omega even though disapproval was still evident in her expression. She crossed her arms stubbornly and let out a sigh. 

“I’m no snitch but-”

“Glad to hear it, let’s go.” Lo’ak cut in, quickly pushing Neteyam towards the awaiting ikran. Daggers shot out of Vamai’s eyes as she watched the two sprint towards the creature. 

Neteyam struggled to keep up with his brother’s longer legs. He realized that the last time he truly ran was during his previous escape attempt. The muscles were taunt and sore, most likely a result of the pounding he had received the day before. Regardless, he pushed through and tried not to let the pain reflect in his expression. 

“What about Azer?” Lo’ak questioned. His large hands fumbled to check the saddle was still properly in place. 

“No time, besides they know what the call sounds like and where he is supposed to be so it would be a dead give away.”

“We’ll come back for him, bro.” Lo’ak promised with a comforting squeeze to the omega’s shoulder. The cloud of fear and anxiety overshadowed Neteyam’s focus on the creature so he simply nodded along and focused on what had to be done in the present. 

Lo’ak took control of the situation, guiding Neteyam to sit behind him and grab on before they took off through the air. It felt weird to be on an ikran and yet have no control over how the creature moved. His fingers dug into his brother’s battle band as they made a quick ascent above the trees that made the omega slightly queasy. 

His eyes frantically darted below them into the thick forest, searching for any signs that they had been spotted. The glowing bioluminescent wildlife did nothing to help the omega make out figures or ikran blanketed within the connected trees. Doubts plagued his mind. There was no saying when or how the group would figure out Neteyam was gone. No hints could point at whether or not they were already being pursued. 

“Oh shit!” Lo’ak cursed. 

The ikran spun on its axis as Lo’ak flipped them away from the other ikran biting back at them. Neteyam’s stomach lurched as they flipped backwards, his legs straining to clamp around the ikran in order to stay in place. Once upright, there was no time to take a look at who was now pursuing them as Lo’ak went straight into speeding in the other direction. 

They whipped sharp zig zagged lines across the night sky in an effort to lose their stalker. The impending feel of being chased crawled across Neteyam’s skin, every turn questioning how close they still were. He finally dared to look back and the reality made his worries look like child’s play. 

The person on their tail was only one of twenty ikrans speeding after them. Although none nearly as close as the first, many were picking up quickly. He recognized the structured formations, the same ones his father had taught him about when pursuing RDA or thieves in their territory. The comparison solidified the gravity of their situation in his mind. 

“How’s it looking?” Lo’ak calls, eyes still faced forward in concentration. 

“20 ikrans, maybe more. You’ve got some distance from the first one but we need some sort of magic trick to get them off our tail.” His neck strained from craning to see the advancing fleet from whatever direction they soared in relation. 

“Just my specialty.” Lo’ak shot a grin back at the boy that made the familiar nervous twist in Neteyam’s stomach return. It was always a gamble whether his brother’s stunts would bring them a great adventure or rather a cautionary tale. 

His veins chilled to ice at the sudden drag of gravity. They shot straight towards the ground in a death defying beeline. The whip of wind was merciless against Neteyam’s unprotected eyes, forcing them to eventually close. Plunging now in darkness the omega was partially grateful he couldn’t see how close they were getting to sudden death. His nails dug into Lo’ak waistband till there were indents. 

The impact was different than Neteyam expected. The sharpness of the movement did make his muscles ache but they were moving upwards again. He peek his eyes open to find them swerving through the trees at an incredible speed. Their movements were drastic and unyielding to any error. Looking behind, Neteyam found no one in his line of sight. 

“I think you lost them.” He yelled over the whipping wind. 

“Not yet.” Lo’ak disagreed as their speed picked up and the two raced towards a soaring mountain side. 

“What are you doing?” Neteyam blanched at the sight of their distance to the hard rock rapidly closing in. Lo’ak shook his head as if his brother was being unreasonably worried. 

“Just trust me, bro!” He laughed fondly. 

They continued at an unseemly speed towards the vertical incline of the towering mountain. Neteyam instinctively gripped the ikran, willing it to slow down with his mind, but of course there was no tsaheylu connection. He was not in charge. 

“Hold tight!” Lo’ak warned before they were turning on their side. 

Their speed decelerated at the turn, but not enough. They were going to hit the mountain from the side. Lo’ak yanked and twisted, willing them into a strange position and that is when Neteyam noticed the large crack in the rock. Easily concealed in the dark shadows of night, but large enough to fit them. 

They jolted and rocked harshly as Lo’ak willed them into that opening. The ikran used its sharp claws to dig into the rock and vines in order to hold them against the inside wall. The position made both males clench their legs tightly around the creature in order to keep from falling, but they were out of sight, and just in time. 

The shrieking sound of air being split echoed through the opening as ikran after ikran whirred past them. Each passerby had Neteyam flinching. They clung to the ikran silently, only heavy breathing filling the air between them. They remained in that position till there was no sign of warriors for a couple minutes. 

“Is that all of them?” Neteyam whispered. 

“We will have to hope it is, can only stay here so long before they start looking for our hiding spot.” Lo’ak urged the ikran to crawl out of the space carefully before they were jumping off and soaring into the air again. 

Hope began to sprout again as they continued to fly lowly without spotting a single ikran. Their diversion had successfully shot the group in the opposite direction of their destination. Lo’ak began to laugh triumphantly. The sound had a nervous laugh bubbling out of Neteyam, almost ready to believe they were in the clear. 

“Who’s the mighty warrior now?” Lo’ak cheekily shot back at his older brother. 

“Yeah yeah just shut up and try not to make us crash.” He reprimanded his brother’s cocky attitude but Neteyam couldn’t keep the smile from his own face. They were going to make it home! 

He expected to feel allated, completely free and ecstatic at the news. However, there was a sharp tug on his heart, one that pulled him in the opposite direction back towards the other clan. Towards the arms that held him safely at night, shushing all of his worries away. Towards the deep laugh that had Neteyam smiling brightly no matter the context. Towards the arrogant relentless alpha that looked at Neteyam as if he were the whole world. His whole world. 

He tried not to think about what it would be like to not feel that calming presence, or see that charming smile winking back at him, or be called baby boy for the hundredth time that day. Regardless, a small black hole was forming in his chest at the idea of losing all of that, of losing him. 

It made Neteyam mad, no, it made him furious.

His mind and body was betraying him and if he wasn’t careful it would betray his family too. Stubborn rage boiled within him, as he looked ahead at the darkened horizon. There were two choices now. Neteyam figured he could either cry or channel those emotions into productive determined anger. He chose the latter. 

Kxolo would have to carry him kicking, screaming, and fighting over his shoulder the whole way to get him back. He was ready to fight. 

The attacking ikran came out of nowhere.

“NETEY-” The words were cut off by the sharp impacts against Neteyam’s ribs. The air was stolen from his lungs as his body continued to rolled from the thick branch back into the open air. Ikran cries could be heard from above, mingled with Lo’ak’s voice but the omega had no time to tune into what was occurring. 

He focused his attention to the greenery below him, executing a sloppy but safe fall between the ginormous leaves. He hit the ground in a heap. Neteyam’s body shook from the aftermath. His eyes strained to focus and stop seeing in doubles. The omega concentrated on taking controlled breaths in through his nose and out his mouth. 

The forest finally came into focus and Neteyam could feel where the pain was coming from. There was a gash along his rib cage, not too deep but still eliciting a stinging pain. His core ached as he sat himself up to inspect the damage. The red blood was visibly smeared along his torso, but the bleeding was only coming in small spurts. He dismissed the injury quickly at this realization. 

The sound of flapping wings coming to a halt sent a rush through Neteyam. Without preamble, the omega quietly positioned his body underneath the giant upturned roots of the tree closest. There was just enough space between the tree and ground to hide himself from view. 

“Neteyam!” Pulo’s gravelly voice had the omega’s breath hitching.

It was closer. So much closer than he had anticipated. 

“I know you’re out there. Make both of our lives easier and show yourself so I don’t have to drag you out.” Neteyam didn’t heed the warning. 

Lo’ak was out there somewhere. Getting caught now would foil all their plans. 

Neteyam spent whatever energy he could spare on slowing his heart rate down, letting only small controlled exhales leave his nose. Pulo’s continued calls were only met with silence. It took several minutes before the alpha ventured in a different direction in pursuit of Neteyam. Still, the omega waited. His ears strained to follow those crunching footsteps until they were only a distant thrum encapsulated in the hum of the forest. 

With shaky hands, Neteyam grasped the roots to pull himself out of the hole. He held in a hiss at the feel of the long cut scraping against the dirt. He would need to disinfect it soon, but that would have to wait till Lo’ak and him were back home. 

His eyes sweeped the area around him in search of any hints towards Lo’ak’s location. Calling out for him would be too risky but they were already running out of time. All of a sudden, an abrupt yipping sound stopped him in his tracks. He imitated the sound back and sure enough a reply came exactly identical. 

It was a call his mother had invented during emergencies so that they could know where the other family members were without outside personnel detecting them. The short sound blended in with the other birds calls of the night. He strained to hear the calls each time, concentrating on the direction from which they came. The process continued as Neteyam could hear it coming closer and closer. Lo’ak was sure to be just around the corner. 

His string of thoughts cut short at the sight of the figure in the distance. Neteyam’s body stilled into a statue as his eyes accidentally met with Pulo’s. For a moment, neither moved. The world paused.

Then both moved into action. Neteyam’s legs pumped against the hard ground till his hips were screaming from the harsh recovery. He ignored every sharp pain and ache in his body, vigorously pushing himself across the forest floor as fast as possible. His gut twisted as he pondered the inevitability of the situation. Pulo was at least a foot taller with a stride that had Neteyam jogging beside his walk any day. No head start would shield him from the imminent capture that would take place once the distance was closed. 

However, there was one strength Neteyam hadn’t exploited yet. 

Never slowing down for a second, the omega flung his body towards the vines encircling the large tree. His body was easily flung upwards without a foot or hand staying in one spot for more than a second. The power from his legs shot him upwards, past the boy's normal reach, to grapple onto a higher set of veins and branches. 

The climb was messy and uncalculated. Neteyam worked purely off of instinct, trusting his body to catch him, then find another place to grip or push from. Harsh textures from branches and twigs cut scratches into the omega’s smooth azure skin, but it never slowed him down. 

Dejavu washed over him as Pulo climbed up after him at a quick pace. This time however, they were on equal playing fields. The thought brought another spark of hope, forcing more electric energy through his veins. He fed off of the adrenaline, using it to his advantage in every way possible. 

Upon reaching another broad branch, Neteyam ran across it without hesitation till he could leap from that limb to one of another neighboring tree. This pattern continued hastily. Grip, push, shift, jump, switch. He moved through the forest lightly, as if gravity were simply a suggestion. 

Neteyam’s lungs stretched and ached at the inconsistent intake of air. He tried to push the pain out of his head, instead using the grunts and calls from Pulo to motivate him forward. Overstimulated by the pulling forces of sounds, touch, and pain, his omega begged him to stop. His steam was unnaturally running out, yet another thing to thank his upcoming omega presentation for. 

The insistent yips from Lo’ak became the only thing urging him forward, secluding his omega hindbrain to a locked box in his head. With great difficulty he began to sporadically return those calls, praying for some sort of intervention. Their ringing became clearer as the other brother followed them to the commotion. 

Through mossy branches and leaves, Neteyam could finally spot his younger brother crouched in a tree, looking from side to side. A louder yip from him had the younger boy whipping his head to locate his brother. A look of relief crossed his features before they were replaced with anger. His nostrils flared at the sight of the older alpha climbing after Neteyam. It wasn’t until Pulo’s hand had finally grasped around the boy’s ankle and pulled him down that Lo’ak jumped into action. 

As Neteyam struggled underneath the larger male, Lo’ak propelled himself to the scene using a hanging vine. His body swiftly jammed into Pulo’s side before using the momentum to roll the alpha off of Neteyam and the thick branch. Neteyam shuddered at the thumping sound of Pulo’s body hitting the branch below them, but nothing compared to the chills that shot through his body at the alpha’s aggravated growl. 

Lo’ak was pulling him off the branch and onto his feet in seconds.

“Get your ass going, bro!” Lo’ak urged, whipping around to glower at the fallen alpha. 

The two bolted across the length of the branch. Lo’ak’s ikran squealed in the distance ahead, beseeching them to the destination quickly. The pounding footsteps from Pulo behind now on route once more, echoed the rhythm of Neteyam’s own anxious heart. Today was not the day he wanted to see what the alpha was willing to do when angered. 

They finally made it back to the forest floor in a tumble, no time for a smooth landing. Lo’ak had a firm grip on Neteyam’s arm, practically dragging him along. The omega struggled to keep up with his younger brother’s long strides, heels and toes skidding against rocks and roots that littered the ground. 

His confidence began to burst as they closed in on the ikran. Pulo’s heated breaths were still in the distance. There would be just enough time to mount and take off. He pushed the shrubbery aside as the two began to mount. 

Halfway mounted and ready to swing his left leg over, strong hands reached between the leaves and snatched at Neteyam’s hips. Pulled off the ikran before he had a chance to fight, the omega’s heart stopped as he tumbled back into a hard chest. The radiating scent of fury infiltrated his senses, but it was the familiar oak smell that had his hope dying in an instant. 

Kxolo

Neteyam was caught between a whirlwind of blind primal relief and dark dread as those arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He didn’t need to know to see his face to know how the alpha was feeling. The tense arms with popping veins said enough. Even the alpha’s heart beating loudly against his back was ominous and forewarning with every mighty pound. 

Lo’ak’s hiss was laced with venom as he jumped down from the ikran’s back. Kxolo manhandled Neteyam behind his large frame easily. The answering hiss that erupted from his chest washed over Neteyam in a dreadful wave of ice. The primal sound was cold death itself, a warning that rang through without mercy. An alpha that had been challenged. An alpha who was protecting his mate. 

A cold sweat broke out along Neteyam’s neck as he realized where that anger was directed. To his horror, Loak matched the intensity. An impenetrable heat radiated between the two, an inevitable violence looming between them. 

Neteyam desperately tried to swing or push past the alpha, but Kxolo’s movements were harsh and unforgiving as he was shoved back into place over and over. It was when Lo’ak withdrew his knife with a snarl, eyes shining with a look Neteyam recognized all too well, that Pulo interfered by snatching the omega away from the oncoming scene. He continued to fight against the new pair of arms with tooth and nail. 

“Let him go.” The eerie simplicity to the statement was unlike Lo’ak. The heat curled and prickled at Neteyam’s skin. Lo’ak glowering eyes glowed in the night like a cusping fire, ready to burst into uncontrolled flames. 

“You come into my land and steal my mate. Now is not the time to try my patience.” A lethal growl encased every word, the vibrations scratching at Neteyam’s hindbrain till it was begging him to submit. 

“Seems only fair since you stole my brother, asshole!” Lo’ak lunged forward, knife sparkling in the colorful lights. 

Neteyam felt as if his worst nightmares were being dangled in front of him as he watched Kxolo whip out of the way and prepare for another advance. He could feel the blood trickling out between his fingertips as his nails pierced into Pulo’s forearm. Pulo continued to shift and fight against Neteyam’s small frame as the boy anxiously thrashed in the hold. 

Lo’ak’s anger was unleashed in every swiping and brass movement, but Kxolo was calculated. His reactions were abrupt and controlled as he fought off every advance Lo’ak made. Acute honed maneuvers had the knife out of Lo’ak’s left hand swiftly only to then receive the Sully boy’s signature right hand hook to the cheek. 

A confusing progression of turns and pulls had Lo’ak flipping over his front to hit the ground harshly within seconds of making recovery from the hit. The omega tried to swing his own fist towards Pulo’s cheek, frantic to be released and view the damages. Luck was not on his side as his small balled fist was clamped in one hand and used to twist his straight arm behind his back and upwards till his body was forced into a vulnerable bend. 

Now in worse state to oversee the brawl, Neteyam just barely caught a glimpse of Kxolo harshly pinning Lo’ak against a tree by a bruising grip on his shoulders. A gasp left his throat. A sob was already on the tip of his tongue at the terrifying sight, but nothing came after. He watched in awe as the two shot looks from the depths of fiery hell towards one another but neither moved. It wasn’t until Neteyam scanned the area around them that he understood why. 

Somewhere in the haze of fighting, the rest of the party had arrived. Bows and arrows were strung and pointed at the pinned alpha from every direction, coupled with warning yips and calls. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight. Whispered pleas left his lips without permission, but they were swallowed by the tense mist around the scene. 

Pulo urged him to stop moving as every twist and shuffle brought a sharp pain to the boy’s shoulder from the current position. He could barely make out Kxolo’s profile whispering something to his younger brother to which Lo’ak hissed back immediately. However, the alpha reluctantly surrendered the bow and arrows to the closest warrior before his wrists were tightly tied. 

 A new wave of anxiety rushed through Neteyam at the sight. 

“Take him back to home tree.” Kxolo demanded before turning on his heel. 

“No wait! Let him go!” Neteyam demanded through tears but the bustle of warriors moving into place drowned out the sound. His pleas fell onto deaf ears. 

Pulo finally shifted the boy into an upright position against him as Kxolo menacingly stalked straight towards them. In any other scenario, Neteyam knew that the icy rage in those eyes and anger in the footsteps would have him shaking and promising to behave but Lo’ak’s well being distracted him from every personal fear he had. 

“He’s bleeding.” Pulo informed. 

“Let me see.” Pulo held the boy in place as Kxolo’s large hands grasped the boy's hips and focused eyes searched for the source of blood. A growled out curse left his lips at the sight of the dirt covered gash along Neteyam’s ribs. 

The omega continued to kick and swerve away from the touches. 

“I said let him go! Why are you taking him back to home tree?!” Neteyam screeched as his left leg kicked back at the towering Olo’eyktan. Kxolo ignored the kicks and questions, too engrossed in evaluating every cut and scratch that littered the omega’s body. 

“He is just being held there till your parents come to bring him home, Neteyam. Calm down.” Pulo attempted to reassure him. 

The web of worries quickly led to the reaction of their parents upon arrival. Neteyam could already imagine the infuriated expression his father would wear, riding in to pick up Lo’ak from perhaps the most devious stunt he had ever pulled. In Lo’ak’s current state, it was inevitable that the two would only feed one another’s anger. Neteyam was the voice of reason and submission in these scenarios. 

“Stop moving.” Kxolo gritted out into a deep growl, as he struggled to wrap a long piece of fabric around the boy’s rib cage. 

“Let me wait with him! I need to talk to my dad.” Kxolo’s shoulders tensed at the words, finally finishing the knot keeping the bandage in place. 

His heart rate sped up again as Pulo swiftly released him and allowed Kxolo to gently pin him up against a tree, both wrists caught in one hand and pinned above him. He wiggled in the hold, but dead cold amber eyes stopped him. Staring upwards at the alpha’s furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw, Neteyam’s hindbrain screamed at him to submit and present. The possessive pheromones wafting over him were intoxicating and all consuming to the omega. He let out a nervous gulp as Kxolo looked down at him with those hard eyes before leaning down towards his right ear. 

“You are in no position to be making demands right now, omega.” The dark tone vibrated through Neteyam’s body from head to toe. He couldn’t hold in the small whimper that escaped his lips at the title. Not baby boy, not little one, not my love. Omega. 

He was in for it. 

An invisible wire yanked Neteyam towards submissive tendencies, his primal hindbrain fighting to take control of the situation. He didn’t yield however, mentally digging his heels into the ground. 

“I need to see my dad!” A firm grip to his jaw had Neteyam stilling in place. 

 Kxolo took a few weighted steps forward till their bodies were molded together, forcing the omega to crane his neck upwards in order to see him. The alpha crowded into Neteyam’s space, body tense and rigid while his frame successfully encompassed the boy in his hold. 

The wire yanked again but this time with the added lure of lustful thoughts, overcome by the renewed contact with his alpha. Neteyam gritted his teeth as he forced his mind to focus. 

“The only place you can expect to go tonight after the healer’s tent is over my knee.” The rumble of words lit sparks of fear and anticipation in the omega. His body trembled as he continued to choose anger over submission. 

Neteyam dug his heels as he was dragged towards Eyvu. The yanking was no use however as Kxolo had him on the ikran pinned against his chest with little effort. He tried not to glance at the alpha’s domineering expression but the Kxolo’s angry scent was a constant reminder of the punishment that awaited him. 

Lo’ak wrenched at the binds, digging the material deep enough into his upturned biceps to leave red marks. A low hiss rattled in his chest at another futile attempt. He could already feel a burning ache in his shoulders building at the stretch of his biceps being bound to one another behind his head. Shifting from foot to foot, his eyes swept over the area around home tree in search of a gap between the guards circled around it. 

Anger still sat deeply within him, but the adrenaline was quickly dying down. A foolish hope that he could break the bonds and find Neteyam lingered in his mind. He had anticipated the wrath his father would rain down when returning home, but that scene had always been imagined with Neteyam by his side, his brother safe at home due to his successful plans. 

His ears twitched at the sound of soft footsteps rounding the corner. Deep curiosity filled him as he recognized the oncoming figure as the feisty omega from the lake. She smiled confidently at the guards before walking straight past them and towards the bound alpha. A cocky smirk stretched her lips as she stopped in front of him with crossed arms. 

“Quite the plan you have there, mighty warrior.” Lo’ak held in a growl at her sarcastic tone. 

“So much for not being a snitch, huh?” He gritted out. The petite girl let out an obnoxious laugh at the accusation. 

“Oh I didn’t tell. If I had, you two wouldn’t have made it past the tree line.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement at Lo’ak’s rising anger. Every twinkle of beads clicking together in her long flowing hair seemed to mock him. For an omega small enough to yank over his shoulder with one arm, she had a lot of nerve teasing him. His fingernails dug into his palms at the image of her upturned ass resting on his shoulder as she swung her legs in ferocious kicks against him. 

“I guess we have your own arrogant stupidity to thank for tonight’s fiasco.” She huffed, idly twirling herself in feigned boredom. He watched as the small omega casually danced across the dirt. He wondered if the wiry girl ever stood still for more than a minute. 

He shifted his body weight forward subconsciously and that is when he caught her eyes flickering towards his flexed biceps before quickly darting away. Despite its briefness, Lo’ak was able to catch the lustful curiosity in those playful eyes. Smug satisfaction settled into his features at the girl’s incidental confession. His gaze racked over her curvy form shyly turned away from him. 

“Well if I’m so stupid and arrogant, then why are you here talking to me in the middle of the night?” He raised an eyebrow back at the omega now quickly turning on her heel to face him. The alpha reviled in the cute nose scrunch that accompanied her angry gaze. 

“Don’t get things twisted, skxawng. I’m only here to give Neteyam some peace of mind, to reassure him that nothing happened to his idiotic brother.” Her posture readjusted itself to stand tall and straight in efforts to exuberate more confidence and control, but Lo’ak could see through the facade. 

He hummed as if in deep thought. 

“I don’t think I believe that, little snitch.” The nickname slipped easily from his lips without thought, but Lo’ak found himself taking a liking to it as he caught the nervous twitch of her tail. His own slinked back and forth slowly as he leaned closer down towards her. “I think your curiosity got the best of you till that little voice in the back of your head was begging you to come out and take a peak. Just for a minute, maybe two. But then I’m strung up here like a prized meal and that little voice is now too loud to ignore. Play this indifferent tough omega part as much as you want, but I see through it, little snitch.” 

A fire burned in the pit of his stomach at the enraged expression staining her delicate features. 

“Not that I’m complaining, I appreciate that you wanted to visit me sweetheart.” Rage coiled in those golden eyes as her lips parted, slightly dumbfounded, like a little fish. ‘A cute fish’ Lo’ak decided. 

“Your ego really has no bounds, does it?” She rhetorically seethed, ears folded back with furrowed eyebrows. She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. “Besides, a jarhead like you couldn’t handle me if your life depended on it.” 

The muscles in his body tightened against the bonds, yearning to pin her against the nearest tree and teach her a lesson that ended with his name being sung like a heavenly praise against her plush lips. Lewd images came to the forefront of his mind as he shamelessly dragged his gaze along her body. He swore he could see goosebumps rising on the striped skin against her feathered top. His pupils dilated at the sight. 

“How about,” Lo’ak eyes connected with hers in a penetrating stare, “You untie me and we find out?” 

Lo’ak smirked at the sight of her thighs fidgeting to press tightly together. Her eyes burned with a loathsome hatred but her body told a different story. The girl’s lips parted to speak and Lo’ak subconsciously leaned forward in anticipation of her response. 

“Vamai!” The moment shattered like glass into a thousand pieces at the authoritative voice. 

Lo’ak searched for the source of the sound and found a tall beta with dreadlocks, shooting daggers at the two. He met that stare openly, unafraid of the stranger. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night!” He reprimanded. Vamai sent the man a look of disbelief as her hands clenched into fists. The male ignored her reaction and continued to stare down the strung up alpha. 

“Cool the tone, Epok. I’m just here to check up on Lo’ak for Neteyam.” Lo’ak eyes flickered between the two at the standoff. An unspoken message was being sent between those eyes and the younger Sully brother yearned to know what it was. 

“I’ll watch him. Go home.” The stunted response etched an angry frown into her beautiful features. Lo’ak couldn’t help but feel disappointed at her early dismissal. He didn’t let it spoil his fun, though. 

“Better get going, little snitch. It’s rude to stay out past your bedtime.” A feline smirk broke across his face at the aggressive hiss she shot his way. 

However, she could sense the beta’s growing impatience so without another word Vamai stormed off in the other direction. Lo’ak watched the sway of her hips with each step, mesmerized by her artistic curves. It was only when Epok took a place in the formation and Vamai gave one last look backwards that Lo’ak sent her a cheeky wink. 

Taglist: @theunfortunateplace​ @perfectprofessorloverapricot​

[jeonbunnie]

you broke me first

pairing: reader x jeongguk

anon requested: “how about a angst fic with jungkook based on tate mcrae’s song you broke me first… maybe a little smut too 👀🙂”

summary: Jeongguk tries to win you back.

genre: angst; smut; exes to lovers; 18+; 

soundtrack: you broke me first— tate mcrae (highly recommend listening to this version )

content/warnings: fuckboy!jeongguk; swearing; intoxication,mentions of sex/masturbation

a/n: I’m gonna need a lot of fluff to recover from this ;;

word count: 1.1k

♪ Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had. But I don’t really care how bad it hurts♪

By the time Jeongguk realized he was in love with you, it was too late.

It’d been months since he last heard from you, months since you’d last slept together, and things fell apart like they always did because Jeon Jeongguk was no good at love and relationships.

It was all fun and games for him at first. You were sweet and sexy, and he got caught up worshiping at the altar between your thighs. Mad for you and your kisses and your moans. Addicted to the way you sang his name, voice like an angel. But it was just sex; he was never the relationship type.

Jeongguk didn’t even think he was capable of falling in love. But somewhere along the late-night calls, skin on skin, and the tenderness in between, he fell for you.

He’d never been with a girl who looked at him like he hung the moon. He didn’t know how to take your kindness or your love—he didn’t know how to give it either. So he did what he always did whenever things got too messy or too complicated. He left.

But he could never stay away, not for long.

It’s late, nearly midnight, and he’s so far away, here at some meaningless party when he should be back with you. Maybe it was the liquid courage running through his system, but he couldn’t fight the need to hear your voice. He shouldn’t have bothered at all, but he called you after months of radio silence.

It’s the wrong time, wrong place. But you picked up. And Jeongguk decides to tell you something he should’ve said a long time ago.

“I made a mistake. I want you back.”

You used to sound so sweet when you spoke to him, your voice dripping like honey. But now? You scoffed. “You got some nerve, Jeongguk.”

“I’m not a toy you can put down and pick back up whenever you want to play,” you snapped. “Are you drunk? Because I don’t think you’d say this if you weren’t.”

He hated that you were right, that he could only bear to tell you how he felt after a few drinks. And he hated that you knew him so well, that somehow even miles away, you knew he was somewhere outside wasted when he hadn’t even mentioned it.

Yeah, he’d been drinking, but it didn’t make his words any less true. “I meant what I said.”

“So did I. You only ever call me when you’re drunk or you want something. Do you know how shitty that makes me feel?”

Jeongguk could hear what was underneath all that anger, the hurt you kept. He pictured your expression on the other side: brows pulled together, lips turned down in that pout you made right before you’d cry.

Bringing you to tears is the last thing he wanted; it’s the reason he tried so hard to keep away. He told himself that you’d both be better for it, that it would be painful, but in the long run, it was what you needed.

But leaving fucked him up, too.

Jeongguk sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t call to hurt you.”

“Then why did you call?”

Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Because I miss you. Because I was too scared to show up at your door in case you wouldn’t let me in.

Because I could never tell you I love you face to face.

He wanted to say it all but cowardice and guilt held the words back, a lump building in his throat.

“You know how I feel.”

“Do I, Jeongguk? All you do is give me mixed signals. One minute you’re flirting with me, and the next, you’re cold. You say I’m your everything, and in the same breath, you tell me our relationship is too much for you, that you want a break.”

He gritted his teeth. “I never said that. You’re the one who broke up with me.”

“You’re the one who pulled away first,” you said, voice rising an octave. “You’re the one who left.”

Again, and again, and again. Anytime you got too close, anytime Jeongguk felt something real, he’d pull away from you, hop on his bike, and hit the road because Jeon Jeonguk didn’t settle down.

He’d regret it, though. Sometimes even the very second he was away from you.

There were others, of course. Girls he humored here and there when you weren’t together. But they were only placeholders for the real thing. When he was fucking them, all he thought about was you.

Even when he was alone, stroking his cock, it was the thought of you that got him off. Your hand he imagined in place of his—your name on his tongue when he came.

Because despite all his efforts, a part of him belonged with you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was yours, body and soul.

Only now it was too late. Jeongguk could feel you slipping away. He gripped the phone in his hand tight, stars blurring in his vision as he looked up at the night sky. “I never meant to hurt you, (Y/n).”

“But you did. You hurt me,” you said, voice trembling. “And I’m not gonna let you do it again.”

“Baby—”

“Not your baby. Not anymore.”

“Just hear me out—”

“I met someone.”

Those three words knocked the wind out of him.

The line went quiet. As much as he wanted to deny it, Jeongguk knew what you said was true. He always knew you’d find someone else, someone who could love you right. Someone not broken. Hell, he counted on it.

But he hadn’t imagined it would tear him up inside.

He tried to compose himself. But the bitterness in his voice comes out all the same. “Just like that, huh? I’m that easy to move on from?”

“God, Jeongguk. What did you think would happen? You can’t just waltz in and out of my life whenever you feel like it, whenever it’s convenient for you, and expect me to keep taking you back.”

Jeongguk could hear it now. Wanted. Tried. All past tense, like a dagger to his chest.

“I wanted to be with you. You wouldn’t let me. I tried loving you—you fought me every step of the way. I’m tired. And I’m not gonna fight for you anymore. The girl that you want. . .she’s not coming back.”

You’ve made this argument a thousand times, and every time Jeongguk sweet-talked you back, won you over. But this time. . .Something about your voice made him pause. A disconnect so far beyond the distance on the phone.

“(Y/n), please—” He bit his lip, tasting salty tears. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that?”

“I don’t care,” you said.

There’s a finality to your tone—this time, you mean it.

This time it’s over.

“You broke me first.”

[taco-bell-mitchy]

I Don’t Like You

Rindou x F!Reader

-Someone likes you, but they’d jump out a window before they admit it. Literally.

Warnings: cussing, annoying Ran, minor violence (?)

School confessions were always so awkward. Especially when greeted with rejection. So Rindou Haitani was writing his, he cringed. He simply couldn’t keep these feelings in any longer. He also didn’t know how to express his feelings very well. So what was he supposed to do? Just tell you he likes you? It’s not like you would even believe it. Which he doesn’t blame you for. As Rin seems to have a resting bitch face.

Anything he tells you, you either take it the wrong way because of his face, or he says it wrong because of his well…face. His tone can be quite monotone as well which doesn’t help. So when you change you hair style one day and he stares at you, you automatically never do it again as you think he’s disgusted at it. Or when he ask, “Is that a new shirt?” With a plain face and bored eyes you assume he also doesn’t think it’s very cute. So even if he did try to confess in person, you’d probably think he’s playing a sick joke.

Crumpling up another letter he became infuriated. He just can’t seem to get his feelings right. His cheeks are burning red as he’s writing all of them. Ran see his brothers irritability but leaves him alone for a while, until he can’t get over the annoyed yelling.

“Okay what’s wrong?” Ran asked leaning on the door frame, “Nothing.” Rindou’s irritability was visible even more in his voice. Ran looked around the room at crumpled papers and smirked while picking one up.

“Dear y/n, I know I’m not the best at expressing myself but I’m truly in love with you-”

“STOP IN RAN!!!” Rindou screamed at brother like a toddler asking for a cookie. Rindou’s face had furrowed brows but his scarlet cheeks told another story. “My little brother is writing a love letter~” Rindou looked away, “Shut up, I’m trying my best.” Ran sighed with a smile while crouching down next to his brother. “Your big brother is to the rescue. We’ll write the best love letter ever.” Rindou shook him away, “I don’t need your help Ran. Besides I’m not gonna even wrote it anymore I’m done.” Ran shrugged while walking out his room, “Well, a bit of advice still, just write what you want her to know, how you actually feel. Goodnight~”

The next morning Rindou shoved his school supplies and folders into his bag once more and ran to school. He was sleep deprived from all the writing he had done. Only in the end deciding not to even give it to her. He got to school eventually and eased into the day.

Today I got to school early. Unlike most days. I walked into the classroom sitting in my assigned seat. Looking beside me towards the window where Rindou Haitani usually sat earlier than me. I was a bit relieved he wasn’t here today. Though, yes he was easy on eyes, every single day and second he seemed to want to murder me.

He would ask if my clothing was new with such a bored face as if he were judging me for my choice. Or I would change my hair style for a hair and I’d watch him stare into my heart and soul the whole day. Sometimes when I’m laughing with friends, later in the day they’d tell he was glaring daggers at them too. It always seemed like no matter what I did it didn’t impress him. It didn’t bother me at first but now I just wonder why he hates me.

That’s when he walked in. Messy hair and wide eyes. It’s the most expression I’ve ever seen him have. I looked down to hide my face. I admit, my feelings towards him were…complicated. The reason I wondered he hated me was because I felt anything but hate towards him. When he wasn’t looking at me, he seemed so peaceful. On my way home I’d see him laughing with his brother and being a normal guy. Though he was a delinquent he still was charming. Yet he hates me.

I was pulled out of my thinking at a second loud voice. Ran Haitani. Huh? He wasn’t in this class. The first Haitani brother, well I see him as second, was never here. So it’s odd for him to be loudly yelling to his younger brother. “Aye Rindou!! I think you accidentally packed something of mine. Can I check?” Rindou looked over to him and sighed, “Whatever.” Ran’s smile seemed to lighten.

He rummaged through Rin’s backpack. Finally pulling out a sheet of paper. It seemed to be folded and messy. Ran yelled a quiet ‘yah’ and unfolded it. He looked over at me and since I was already staring at him we made eye contact. “Y/n! This is for you!” Rindou looked up at what he was holding and as I went to reach it Rindou grabbed it.

“Stop it! Don’t fucking touch things that aren’t yours.” I pulled my hand back at his harsh tone. Ran frowned, “Stop being a pussy Rin, just give it up-” Rin held the paper tighter. “It’s none of your business Ran leave me alone. And you,” he pointed towards me, “Dont listen to him he’s an annoying fuck who doesn’t know anything.” I felt awkward especially with the disgust in his eyes. At least it always felt like disgust when he stared at me. Ran grabbed the paper again but Rin struggled leaving Ran pushing Rindou against the open window.

Ran stared Rindou hard in the eyes, “I won’t let go of this.”

“I know”

“I wish push you out this window if you really want it to not be seen.”

Rindou felt his heart race is frustration, “Do it. I won’t change my mind.” And not to Rindou’s surprise. He actually did. The few students rushed to window, we were only on the second story, but it was still sure to hurt. I, too, rushed to the window. And I saw Rindou’s face as he stared up at us while laying in the bushes. I laughed as he mouthed a ‘fuck you’ to his brother. Who simply laughed and flipped him off.

I hurried down to him, even if he rejected me now, or looked at me with disgusted eyes, or if cussed me out. I’d go to him this time with no regrets. So as I rushed down to my luck I still see him there. Now he’s sitting upright brushing leaves off him with a pained expression. I walk over to him crouching down. He looked up at me with the same cold eyes. I smiled at him offering a hand.

“Hey. You okay?” He stood up gripping my hand softly, “Yeah sorry about earlier, Ran can be a lot.” I nodded it became silent between us I stared down. We still held hands. He was about to let go but I pulled harder, “Wait! I have to tell you something.” His eyes peeked in interest. “Yes?” I let go of his hand and held my own. Breathing in I finally said, “I know you aren’t quite fond of me but I hope you at least get to know me better because I like you. I think if you get to know me better it’ll be easier to like me right? I mean I understand if you like someone else or even if you’re dating someone then sorry! But I can’t keep this in forever-” I stopped talking at his bubbly laughter

“You sure do talk a lot, yeah?” I laughed a little too at that. I stopped when I felt him reach to intertwine our fingers. “Yeah, I guess you’re okay or whatever.” I looked up at him and smiled, “Thats cool or whatever.” I say mocking him. He smiled wider and looked towards the school door. “I guess we should be getting to class right now, come on let’s go.” I followed with our hands still intertwined. The paper in his other hand.

“What is that by the way?” Rindou’s face went red, “haha nothing…” I nodded and put aside my curiosity. He looked down at me and we made eye contact, “Let’s go when thing straight though, I definitely don’t like you.” I rolled my eyes, “Yeah okay Rindou, you definitely don’t like me.”

But you both knew. He definitely did like you.

Bonus:

“Y/n did he give you the letter!” Ran yelled excitingly towards me. I stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“I saw you two walking while holding hands so he gave the letter right?” I shook my head, “No, I was the one that confessed. I didn’t even know he had a letter.” Ran smirked with mischief. “I thought that might happen so i saved an old copy.” He gave me a wink and handed me the letter.

I read the letter which read,

“Dear Y/n,

I’ve liked you for a while now. No, loved you. I hope that doesn’t sound to bold but it’s the truth. I wish you could see the way I stare at you with so much love, but apparently most people don’t see it as love but more of disgust or ill intent. Still, it is love. I’ve always been afraid to admit it to you because I don’t want you to reject me. Now I hope you can really tell my true feelings. I want to hold your hands and kiss your face and have you in many vulnerable ways. Is this to straightforward? Ah I don’t know, it’s hard to write this and as I am I’m very confused. I hope one day you’ll just be able to see how much I love you. With my touch and stares. So please accept my confession.

Sincerely,

Rindou Haitani”

I smiled with my eyes a bit watery at how cheesy it was. “Wow Ran. We gotta make fun of him for this forever yeah?” Ran laughed loud. “oh I definitely like you!”

I think we’ll all get along fine. Oh and I was definitely gonna tease Rin.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

[jonsa101]

Episode 3x14: A Reflection of How Max Stepped Into Love After A Season of Suffering

Gif credit @supagirl

Hey guys! I can’t believe the season finale has come and gone! I think my mind is just taking time to comprehend everything that has happened! Sharpwin is officially canon! As I’m typing this out, it feels strange writing a meta on the other side of things. Since season one, I’ve been writing metas about how these two belong together and making predictions about the trajectory of their relationship. Now, to be on the other side of things where I know longer have to do that because these two are finally together is kinda crazy. I feel so elated!

Now y’all, I’m not going to lie to you, I had a totally different meta planned out and that meta is still in my drafts. I will probably release it because it was a general review of the episode but I thought it was more important that I put this meta out first. When I was watching the finale live, I didn’t love it. I just didn’t. I loved that Max and Helen finally got together at the end of the episode but I had a major issue with how it unfolded. The issue my friends was this scene right here: 

Baby!!! When I tell you this scene TRIGGERED me, it did! Now mind you, I wasn’t upset with Max’s storyline of searching and struggling to take off his wedding ring. It is human nature for Max to still have an emotional attachment to his ring. He’s not still grieving but essentially that ring is the only thing he has left of Georgia and represents a life he once had. Him taking it off was always going to be a monumental moment for Sharpwin and for himself. The issue that I had was Max casually telling Helen that he freaked out about losing his ring!!! To me, after the voicemail he left her, after Helen flew standby and was in a six hour flight to see him, it was an incredibly CALLOUS thing for Max to say. I know Max wasn’t thinking in this moment. I know his intentions were clearly not to hurt her but words matter and him being careless with his was a complete disregard of Helen’s feelings. She was deeply hurt and upset when he said this and rightfully so! I mean just look at her expression here:

Helen’s entire being read like

“I can’t believe you”

And girl same, because neither could I!! He knew he fucked up and he obviously made up for it in the end but y’all when I was watching it live, everything that came after that elevator scene was was tainted for me. I had a hard time believing that Helen would let what he said slide so easily and in the moment, I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them finally coming together! 😩 In my personal opinion, there were so many other ways that scene could have played out without Max having to literally tell Helen to her face that he was worried about his wedding ring! I know they were trying to build up to the “big moment” where he finally takes his ring off and runs back to Helen’s apartment but man, that moment did not sit right with me in my spirit! It still doesn’t and I don’t think my opinion will ever change on this.

With that said, I’ve now done several rewatches of the finale where I specifically watched the scenes after that awful moment by the elevator. As I’ve had time to reflect, my perspective has changed. I no longer view the moments after the elevator scene as tainted but as something deeply profound and beautiful. Hell, even as I reflect on that scene by the elevator, I still don’t like it, but in a way I understand it in how it relates to Max’s overall journey when it comes to Helen. To me, Max Goodwin is a man who fell deeply in love with Helen in the midst of the most complex situations and a season of him suffering. It’s been deep rooted, complicated and messy from the start and over the past three years we’ve seen Max navigate through the complexities of his feelings for Helen and the circumstances he’s found himself in on our screens. I think when you look at season three finale and specifically the journey of Max finally making a choice to be with Helen, you have to put into context Max’s history and how it influenced what that looked like. So y’all that is exactly what I want to do in this meta so let’s dive in.

One thing I think we need to acknowledge is that, even though as an audience we have loved seeing Max and Helen’s journey unfold, the road has been so TOUGH for them. As Helen said in 3x13, it’s been a fight! Especially for Max. The suffering he has endured over the past three years has been unfathomable and much of his relationship with Helen and his feelings for her have been developed under these traumatic and tragic circumstances. 

At the very beginning of the series, when Max and Helen first meet they clash but it doesn’t last for long. It’s his first day at New Amsterdam and as the new Medical Director, he wants her to stay at the hospital and treat patients instead of doing press tours. Helen on the other hand wants to continue doing press and for the most part ignores his demands for her to return to the hospital. When she finally does return, she does so because she learns that Max has cancer. This bonds them at the onset as Helen is the only person in his life that knows about his diagnosis. As an audience, when we first see them interact, we instantly saw the sparks fly between them. Their chemistry and natural witty banter made us immediately take a look at their relationship and what potential they could have in the future. Though we were shocked by his cancer diagnosis, I think the fun and lightheartedness of Sharpwin’s first interactions really masked how traumatic this must have been for Max. On the first day of his dream job, that he sacrificed his marriage for, he learns that he has cancer while having a baby on the way. Those are the awful circumstances that first bring Max and Helen together. 

As Helen becomes Max’s doctor and he swears her to secrecy about his diagnosis, their friendship and bond grows deeper. His passion and drive to help his patients, reignites Sharpe’s love for medicine again and inspires her to put her patients first. They become vulnerable with each other more than anyone else in their lives. He confides in her about his broken marriage and she tells him that she wants a baby. When he almost dies, she becomes his deputy medical director so that he can focus on his care. All of these moments are significant to them because somewhere along the way they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t plan for it and it’s something neither of them are consciously aware of but unknowingly, they both start to fill a place in each other’s lives that was clearly more than a doctor and patient relationship or a friendship. This “place” wasn’t called out until episode 1x16 were the clairvoyant called out their feelings for each other. When episode 1x17 comes around, after a night of revelations and a scramble to get the power back on in the hospital, Helen decides to step back as his doctor. If she wasn’t aware of her feelings before, in this moment, she’s fully aware of them now. This is an effort to safeguard her heart and set boundaries because the lines of who they are to each other were already so blurred. When she “triages” their relationship Max’s reacts badly and honestly they’re both devastated and are on the verge of tears:

As viewers, we loved this moment but when you peel back the layers of what’s actually going on in this scene, it’s gut-wrenching. The subtext is so clear here yet their situation is so complex and layered. We know for a fact that Max wasn’t trying to lose her in ANY CAPACITY. We also know that in the way he TRULY wanted her he couldn’t have her and Helen knew that too. Not when he was married, had a baby on the way, and fighting cancer at the same time. Y’all that’s hard and profoundly painful when you think about it and it makes this scene all the more tragic. 

When Helen steps back as his doctor, at first Max seems to be handling it well but as his cancer starts to get worse, he completely breaks. Like I said earlier, over the course of his cancer treatment, Helen filled a place in Max’s life that was so much more than just his doctor or his friend. So when he’s dying and no longer has the person he feels deeply for play an active role in his treatment, he lashes out. He’s dealing with a range of emotions he can’t handle or properly process. Things only get worse from there and at the end of season one Georgia and Luna’s life are on the line and Bloom and Helen scramble to save them. When it seems like everyone was able to come out of that traumatic event unscathed, they get into a devastating ambulance crash that changes everything. 

Season 2 brings another level of pain and suffering for Max when he loses his wife after the crash and is thrust into single fatherhood. Not only is he grieving but he’s also dealing with guilt of falling in love with Helen while he was married. The complexities of his feelings is something he struggles with throughout this season and it affects his relationship with Helen. At some points he pushes her away and at others he desperately needs her. Once again, Helen and Max’s relationship is caught up in the most complex of circumstances that is riddled with agony and trauma. 

By time we head into season 3, Max doesn’t even have time to breathe or think about his relationship with Helen because they’re both thrust to the frontlines of the pandemic. 

I bring all of this up again to emphasize that there has never been a time where Max and Helen’s relationship hasn’t been wrapped up in trauma or some sort of suffering. It has always been one thing or another with them. It’s been A LOT and Max has tried to navigate being in love with Helen through his suffering and under these crazy ass circumstances. So after rewatching the finale, the questions that run through my mind are:

How do you step into love when all you’ve known for the past three years has been suffering?

How do you love openly and freely when for so long you’ve emotionally suppressed your feelings for someone because it was “wrong?” 

How do you let go, heal, and move on with your life?

To me, answering these questions is what the season finale for Max was all about. When you’ve suffered so much and endured so much it’s not easy to step into a new chapter in your life that’s hopeful and filled with love and possibilities. For Max, I don’t think in his wildest dreams that he ever imagined that he and Helen would be in a place where they could actually be together. Considering everything they’ve gone through, quite frankly it’s a fucking miracle! So when he actually makes it to the other side and not only SURVIVES but has a chance for happiness, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. Pursuing/having feelings for Helen from a place that isn’t wrapped up in trauma and tragedy, where there are seemingly no obstacles in his way, is totally and completely new territory for Max. I think he’s clueless in how to do that in the right way and as he navigates through that, naturally there are hiccups.

That’s evident with what he said by the elevator and also in this moment here: 

Max doesn’t have a clue but he wants to make sure that he doesn’t fuck it up because he DESPERATELY wants this! I also think there’s something to be said about how we as human beings can self-sabotage ourselves when we finally have an opportunity to get what we want. Fear, guilt, worthiness usually comes into play with that and I think for Max there was definitely a fear with moving on with his life, guilt of surviving it all and having a chance to be with the woman he’s loved for so long, and a question of if he’s worthy of actually having happiness.

Their walk in my mind perfectly embodies him self sabotaging while also trying to navigate his feelings of desperately wanting to be with her. At the beginning of their walk, you see that at one point he clearly wants to hold Helen’s hand but he doesn’t (I would use a gif here y’all but I literally only have room for 10 😩). I’m focusing my attention on Max here because essentially this whole moment between them is a part of Max’s “mini story” in the episode. The ball has always been in his court and truly what we are witnessing is his journey to step into love because Helen is ready and has been waiting on him. 

The most compelling moment in their walk scene for me was this one: 

I find it strange for Max to walk so far ahead when he was the one who asked her if he could walk with her. My first thought while watching it live was “what is he doing” and I think Helen’s expression reads the same way. After analyzing this for a bit, I genuinely think that’s the point of this scene. Like I said earlier, Max doesn’t know what he’s doing. To be with Helen like this is, where its romantic, peaceful and drama free is probably blowing his mind and he doesn't know how to navigate this. He doesn’t know how to receive this second chance at happiness. 

The internal war of Max stepping into love or allowing fear, guilt, and unworthiness to hold him back becomes all the more evident when they get to Helen’s door: 

He knows he wants to come in. Helen know he wants to come in too. This man literally says goodnight twice and when Helen responds with “you said that,” it perfects this scene. She wants him to come in as well but she’s not going to ask him to. In this moment, she sees his internal struggle and she knows that he has to make the choice himself on whether or not he wants to move on with his life with her.

When he walks away, for a moment that was Max choosing to hold onto the pain and trauma of his past. That was him choosing to hold onto the guilt that was keeping him from healing and moving on. With the suffering he’s been through, it makes sense. In many ways he’s been conditioned to fight, to suffer and to endure. It’s what he’s used to. But praise the lord, he thinks of the moments he just shared with Helen. 

The joy he has with just being in her presence. 

The opportunity he has to freely be with her and have a life with her after loving her for so long.

He is not condemned to a life of suffering. It was only for a season. He’s in love with Helen and wants to be with her. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity at a second chance of love and happiness slip away from him. So guys, he slips off that ring, runs back to Helen’s apartment and makes a choice to step into love. Step into this new, uncharted, chapter of his life with Helen Sharpe. 

Anyway guys! I hope y’all enjoyed this! I might be releasing one more meta but we will see how it goes.

As always feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr and on Twitter @oyindaodewale. Love you guys!

[moonlit-jeno]

fifth time’s the charm? (m.)

pairing: johnny suh x female reader

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | mentions of recreational drinking/ drugs (weed) | fluff | jaehyun being, well, jaehyun

words: 5.2k

summary: sometimes the universe aligns for you. and sometimes, it really doesn’t

1. There’s a delicious warmth between your thighs, growing with every slow grind of the guy’s hips. You don’t know his name and there’s no chance to ask, not with the way your lips are practically glued together, his tongue doing wonderful things as he licks at the seam of your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip at the same time his hand slides up your thigh, stooping just short of the hem of your dress, and you jolt, whining loudly.

He’s got a cocky smirk on his face when he pulls back to catch his breath, lips swollen and eyes dark. You stubbornly try to pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up more desperately. The two of you are as close together as the kitchen counter allows you to get. The muscles in his back flex under your fingertips and you’re so turned on that you think you could cry.

You’re just about to ask his name but then his lips are on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down the delicate skin. His hand squeezes at the meat of your thigh and you moan, tossing your head back and smacking it against the cabinet. A soft curse leaves you but the pain doesn’t really register, not when you’re being touched like that. His fingertips are so, so close to your core but he doesn’t dare move there yet. That spot is reserved by his dick, the impressive hardness dragging deliciously against your core.

There’s a commotion next to you and you turn your head to look, immediately regretting it. A guy from one of your classes- Jaehyun, you think- is emptying his stomach contents all over the floor. Your nose wrinkles and you rapidly tap your hookup’s shoulder, trying to get him to pull away. He does, a little confused, but then he follows your gaze just in time to watch Jaehyun throw up again, this time on the opposite side of the same counter you’re sitting on. Your arousal fizzles out and you groan, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that replaces the lust.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jae.” Your hookup groans, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to you. “I gotta go take care of him, sorry.”

“Friend?” You ask as he lifts you off the counter.

“Best friend. And roommate. Which means I’m probably gonna hear him all night.” He sighs, glancing over to where Jaehyun’s got his face shoved under the faucet. “Thanks for this, though. It was fun.”

You smile, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

He winks as he walks away, throwing a “next time, then.” over his shoulder. You watch as he rubs Jaehyun’s back soothingly, whispering something in his ear before picking him up. “Don’t fucking throw up on me.” Your hookup tells him, adding a “please,” as an afterthought. It makes you laugh.

It isn’t until you get home that you realize you never got his name.

2. You’re on the couch at yet another party when you see him again.

“I’m Johnny.” He offers you a joint and you take it gratefully, placing it between your lips. He even lights it for you. What a gentleman.

“Y/N,” You finally respond after taking a deep hit, watching all of the smoke leave your mouth and float overhead. “Nice to see you again.”

His eyes drift to your mouth when you take another hit and you let your head fall back to expose the column of your neck. “It is.” Johnny murmurs quietly, tongue wetting his lips.

It doesn’t take long before you end up on his lap, his hands grabbing desperately at your hips as you grind down, kissing him with the same ferocity as last time. The only difference now is that you’re high, you’re so, so high, and Johnny feels so good against you that you’re drowning in him.

Johnny pulls away to take another hit, tugging your mouth back to his so that he can pass the smoke between your lips. You accept it easily, loving how the burn in your chest matches the burn in your gut.

“Mhmm, if you feel this good now, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna feel like when I finally get to feel your pussy.” Johnny groans, bucking his hips up against your core. “Bet you’re so wet, so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.” You whisper in his ear, giggling at the deep groan he lets out in response. His hand makes its way under your skirt and you gasp, fully prepared to let him finger you on the couch in front of everyone.

His fingertips graze your core over the thin fabric of your panties and you whimper, swiveling your hips. Johnny’s a tease, just lightly petting your folds, not quite giving you what you want. You open your mouth to beg when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

You jump when you realize it’s not Johnny’s hand, turning to find a very nervous looking Taeyong.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Uh, the house is currently on fire so we’re evacuating everyone.” He explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes from wandering to where Johnny still has his hand under your skirt.

“Oh, fuck. Is everyone okay?” You ask, standing on shaky legs.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it under control. But we don’t want to take any chances.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, for sure man.”

Taeyong walks away after bidding the two of you a goodnight. You and Johnny look at each other, sighing deeply before he breaks into laughter.

“Damn, we are so unlucky.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself. “It’s unbelievable.”

3. The last time you’d seen Johnny wasn’t perfect, but at least you got his number.

Johnny texts you like you’ve known each other for years. He doesn’t bother with ice breakers- thank god, because you can’t stand small talk. It’s all memes and stories about how chaotic his day was and honestly? It’s refreshing.

Especially because he always takes the time to ask about your day, letting you rant and giving you support. He doesn’t leave you on read for hours at a time, either- you’re pretty sure the longest you’ve had to wait for a response was about an hour, and that was because he’d been in a class.

Surprisingly, there hasn’t been one suggestive message from either of you. You’d certainly been expecting it, considering the nature of how you met. But Johnny keeps everything family friendly, with the exception of a few dirty jokes and curses.

The most suggestive text he’d sent was a “hey, wanna come over and watch a movie?” But even then, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to lead to sex. You can certainly hope, but it isn’t determined.

Of course, you still shower and throw on your sexiest lingerie. Hell, you even lotion your legs.

Which you’re very thankful for as of right now, because Johnny’s got one hand up your dress and the other cupping your breast. He’s half on top of you, his lips pillowy and insistent against yours. You moan and pull him closer, tugging at his soft hair.

The movie is still playing from his laptop and you lean up to close it, reaching to set it on the floor. You’d hate for it to fall off the bed and break later on.

“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to fuck.” Johnny huffs a laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. You giggle, tugging at his shirt to get it off.

“Hey, we haven’t fucked yet.” You remind him, sliding your hands up his toned stomach, feeling the firm muscles. He flexes and you slap his chest lightly.

Johnny leans back down to connect your lips, finally moving your panties to the side to run his finger along your drenched entrance. “Well lucky for you, I have a solution for that.”

The door creaks open before the first finger can even slide in. “Johnny! Taeyong baked us a shit ton of cookies, you want some?” You and Johnny jump apart at the speed of light, your hand flying to smooth down your dress while Johnny pats down his hair. The impact of your back hitting the headboard has you grimacing and you distract yourself by focusing all of your energy on glaring at the intruder.

Fucking Jeong Jaehyun. This is the second time he’s interrupted you, although if you take into account that it was probably him that caused the fire, it’s the third. You’re fully prepared to kill him, though you suppose you’ll spare him if he gets the fuck out of Johnny’s room.

He doesn’t.

The idiot’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t even notice what position you and Johnny had been in, and he somehow doesn’t even notice how both of you are panting and sitting in unnaturally stiff positions. Finally, he looks up from the device. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to notice that Johnny’s shirt is off and that he has multiple hickies scattered across his skin, but he doesn’t! Jaehyun smiles and lifts the tin of cookies.

“I’m okay.” Johnny says shortly. He’s holding a pillow over his lap and he looks absolutely murderous. 

“Suit yourself.” Jaehyun shrugs, wandering further into the room. “Were you watching a movie?” Doesn’t this kid know how hookups work? He had to have seen the two of you together at one of the last parties, has to know that there’s a reason you both have swollen lips and messy hair. 

“Yeah. Inception.” Johnny responds, clearly hoping that the complicated nature of the film will have Jaehyun sprinting away. 

“Oh, I love that movie!” Jaehyun drops the cookies onto your lap and clambers in between you and Johnny, excitedly opening the laptop. “Oh cool, you’re only fifteen minutes in!” He presses play.

Johnny groans. You shove a cookie into your mouth.

4. To say that you’re sexually frustrated is an understatement. 

You like Johnny, you really do. Spending time with him is fun. Texting him is fun. He’s a good person overall, and you want to get to know him better. Another thing you desperately want? His cock.

Every time you try to hook up, you get rudely interrupted. Maybe it’s a sign that you should actually start a committed relationship. Maybe it’s a sign that you and Johnny aren’t meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe hates you. 

It’s late, way too late to text him to come over, but you’re horny and annoyed and your imagination just isn’t doing it for you. Your attempts at fingering yourself are fruitless, and even though you’re so turned on that you think you could explode, you just can’t get wet. It must be a curse. Probably Jaehyun’s fault, you grumble, though there’s absolutely no way it could be his fault considering he isn’t here.

Your fantasies keep failing you and despite you having clear ideas of what you want Johnny to do to you, it’s not enough. After a full minute of consideration, you grab your phone.

[Me] 11:43pm

You up?

[Johnny] 11:45pm

Of course I am

It’s not even midnight yet

What’s up?

[Me] 11:46pm

Bored

Thinking about you

[Johnny] 11:46pm

Oh so I’m boring now

The little quip has you huffing a laugh, smiling down at your phone. You bite your lip and roll onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

[Me] 11:46pm

Hmm

I mean I guess I could change my mind if you prove me wrong

[Johnny] 11:48pm

You only think I’m boring bc I haven’t had the chance to show you how much fun I am

I might even be too much fun for you

[Me] 11:48pm

Prove it

It’s not surprising that your phone starts ringing, the stupid selfie Johnny had taken last time you hung out popping up on your screen. Your stomach jolts in anticipation, teeth finding your lower lip as you answer it.

“Hello?” You roll back over, shoving your pillow under your head. Your free hand rests on your stomach, drawing shapes into your skin.

“Hey baby,” Johnny’s voice is a low purr over the phone and just the sound of it has your stomach flipping, the pet name drawing a soft whimper from you. “It’s awful late for you to be thinking of me. Mind sharing what’s on your mind?” You consider it, sinking further into your mattress and drawing your knees up a little. “Mhmm, I dunno. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind.” That draws a soft laugh from him. “Oh, nothing much. Was just debating if you’d rather come three times on my cock or three times on my tongue.” The bluntness of his words has you sucking in air through your teeth, though your chest is so tight that you doubt you got any oxygen. “Oh.” Your voice is small and you may have been the one to initiate it, but you have no idea how to continue it. “Oh, fuck.” “Yeah?” Johnny laughs lowly on the other line. “Well, which one is it?” “Both.” You try to sound confident but you’re a mess, hand trembling with how hard you grip the phone.

“Greedy girl.” Johnny clicks his tongue, and you can almost see him shaking his head. “How are you going to earn it?” Your mind is blank, nothing but warm arousal shooting through you. “I-” You try to start, finding yourself unable to finish the sentence. The words are too filthy to be spoken out loud.

“Would you suck my cock baby? You’d probably like that, hmm? I know I would.” Johnny’s voice sounds breathless, and you can vaguely hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. “Would look so pretty with your mouth full. Do you want that?” “Yes.” You manage to gasp out, letting your hand find its way between your thighs. Two fingers dip into your core before moving up to trace quick circles into your clit.“Wanna be stuffed full.” A deep groan leaves him. “Fuck, I’d stuff you so full, baby. Do you think you can take my cock?”

“Mhmm, yeah, I can take it.” You moan, finally starting to pleasure yourself the way you want to. Fingers fucking into your core quickly, palm hitting against your clit. “Oh god Johnny, I’m so fucking wet.” “You sound so good princess. Makes me want to-” His voice cuts off and you hum, urging him to continue. He doesn’t.

“Johnny?” You ask, frowning at his silence. A sigh leaves you when he still doesn’t respond and you draw your hand out of your panties to pick up your phone. Your confusion turns to annoyance when you're met with a black screen and a spinning circle. “God fucking damnit!” You scramble for your phone charger but it’s too late, the dead battery symbol popping up when you try to turn it back on. 

You flop onto your bed and scream.

5. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and it’s all you can think about.

Now look, you’re not unreasonably horny. You think about sex the normal amount, and it never actually interferes with your life, but there’s something about Johnny that’s just fucking you up. He’s nice and considerate and makes you laugh so hard that tears stream down your face, and you catch yourself smiling at him fondly even when he’s not doing anything besides frowning at his laptop. Everytime your phone lights up with a notification, you dive for it to check if Johnny had texted you. You’re not in love, but he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger that it almost hurts.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking hot. He’s tall and strong and sexy, and carries himself with so much confidence that you find yourself swooning. You’ve gotten just the slightest taste of what he’s like in bed, but you want the full experience. The whole legs going numb, eyes rolling back, head empty experience. Preferable without any cockblocking roommates.

So no, you don’t think that you think about sex too much. Even if you do end up paying Jaehyun twenty dollars to go see a movie and get dinner so that you and Johnny will finally have the apartment to yourselves. Honestly, you think that locking him in the abandoned storage room would have been more efficient, but this is definitely the more legal option.

Johnny doesn’t look surprised to see you when you knock on his door, letting you in with a smile on his face. He dips down for a kiss and pushes your jacket off of your shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. 

“My baby.” He whines, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I missed you!” 

You giggle and melt into his embrace. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” “Did you have something in mind?” Johnny pulls away a little to look you in the eye, an amused smile on his face. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and you press into the touch like a cat. His smile widens. “You know, Jaehyun’s not here tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

You act like this is new information. “Oh, well then it looks like we’ll have to make the most of it.” 

Johnny hums. “Wanna watch a movie? I’ve got some popcorn waiting to be popped and some wine just begging to be drunk.”

“We could do that.” You humour him, smiling and pulling away when he leans in for a kiss. He pouts and you giggle, pressing your lips to his cheek before moving closer to his ear. “Or you could fuck me.”

Johnny stiffens for a moment and you swear he stops breathing, but then a deep groan rumbles in his chest. “Fuck baby, you can’t just say that.” You giggle and pull back to look up at him with innocent eyes. “I can’t? Why, do you not want to fuck me?” It’s meant to be rhetorical, because you know just how badly he wants you. He’s made it plenty clear. You turn to walk away and Johnny grabs you by your shoulders, anchoring you to him, your back to his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and leaves a lingering kiss on the skin just under your lobe, pressing his hips to your ass. There’s already a sizable bulge there and your stomach flips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny asks, rolling his hips into you. “I want to fuck you so badly that it hurts, baby. Do you know what I imagine doing to you?” 

His breathing gets a little heavier when you grind back on him. “Mhmm, no. Why don’t you show me?” Johnny effortlessly spins you around and picks you up, the squeal you let out muffled by his lips. He laughs softly and the corners of your mouth twitch up. “What?” You whine, pouting at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He doesn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m not! You’re just too damn cute.” The pout on your face is kissed away by his insistent lips and he closes the door to his room with his foot, setting you down on the edge of his bed. 

There’s still a teasing smile on his lips but his eyes are dark. You swallow thickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, the heat of his palms on your bare thighs nearly too much for you. “Will my cute baby let me show her what I’ve been imagining?”

His words have your breath hitching and your head feeling fuzzy but you manage to find the energy to nod, a shaky “yes,” passing through your lips. Johnny moves his hands higher up your thighs, thumbs playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your stomach jolts when his thumb brushes over the bare skin just under your belly button.

“I’m gonna eat you out.” There’s no hesitation in the way he speaks, his gaze determined. Your core clenches at the thought of having his mouth on you, his pretty lips and tongue working to please you. “Help me take these off?” You stand up just long enough for Johnny to tug your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them off so that they land somewhere far away from you. And then Johnny’s pushing you back down onto the bed, palms on your thighs to push your legs apart, and you nearly scream with the anticipation. You’ve waited so long for him that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you right this second. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Johnny groans, staring at your pussy like he’s in awe. He parts your folds with his fingers, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “You’re so pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh and hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping down to press a kiss to your clit. You inhale sharply, and Johnny looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes as he begins to eat you out eagerly.

You have to throw your head back when he drags his tongue up your entrance, dipping the muscle inside just slightly before moving up to suck at your clit. It’s too much too fast and you feel like you’re falling, head spinning and feeling fuzzy with all the sensations he’s giving you. His hair is soft between your fingers when you reach down to grab a hold of it, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away.

Johnny moans into your core and pulls away to smirk at you. The lower half of his face is covered in your arousal and his plump lips glisten. “Feel good, princess?” There’s a filthy noise as he spits onto your cunt, using his thumb to spread the saliva around. “Because you taste fucking divine.”

Breathless curses of his name leave you as your elbows finally give out, your body hitting the mattress only to arch right back off of it. Your hands fist in the sheets and your head rolls from side to side, your body not quite sure how to handle this much pleasure. “I’m gonna cum,” You whimper, pressing your heels into his back to draw him closer. “Johnny, keep- keep doing that, ‘m gonna cum.” It comes out as a plea, and another few cries of his name leave you before your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure. 

The fog finally clears from your mind and you pry your eyes open to find Johnny still kneeling in front of you, licking his lips clean of your release. “Feel good?” You scoot back a little to allow Johnny room to join you on the bed. “Amazing. Knew you had pretty lips for a reason.”

“Aww, you think my lips are pretty?” Johnny teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. You scoff and steal a slow kiss from him, slipping your tongue past his lips at the same time you slide your palm over his dick, feeling the shape of him through the confines of his pants. He moans and tries to pull away but you catch his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling gently.

“I think you’re pretty. I also think we should take care of this, hmm?” You squeeze him gently and his thigh jerks. Johnny laughs breathlessly and reaches down to untie his pants, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free his cock. You waste no time wrapping your hand around the thick length, stroking him slowly. And Johnny makes such a pretty sight, his eyelids fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open. You shuffle back a little further on the bed, moving to lower your mouth to his cock, but he stops you.

“Too impatient,” He pants out, stepping off the bed and throwing his shirt off, kicking his pants to his ankles. “Wanna fuck you.” “I think I’m okay with that.” Your core clenches painfully at the thought of being filled up, and some of your arousal leaks down your thighs. He laughs at your response and reaches for a condom, rolling it on while you rid yourself of your shirt.

You throw your bra at him in an effort to get him to move faster, but it has the opposite effect. He looks at your bra for a moment before moving his gaze to your breasts, swallowing thickly. Both of you groan, but for different reasons.

“Babe, you can look at my boobs while you fuck me.” You whine impatiently. Johnny nods, tongue licking across his bottom lip slowly, eyes still locked on your breasts. It takes him a moment to crawl over to your body, settling between your legs and drawing you into a deep kiss. His dick brushes against your thigh and you wrap your legs around his waist.

Johnny’s always been a tease but you didn’t think he’d be this bad, holding what you want right in front of you, just out of reach. He presses the tip of his cock to your pussy, drags it through your folds, bumps your clit, does essentially everything except for what you want him to do. “Ready?” “Yeah, please,” You sigh, trying and failing not to sound desperate. And yet he still doesn’t put it in. He bends down to place a kiss on each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of the buds before moving to the other one. It has you sighing out in pleasure, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the same time he finally slides in.

The way his cock stretches you out has your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching around him desperately to adjust. Johnny swears and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, babe, you gotta- you gotta stop doing that.” “I can’t,” You arch against him, the action only pushing his cock deeper. “Johnny, you’re so big.”

“You’re just too small.” Johnny quips back, but it’s lacking the normal bite. This time it sounds strained, and your stomach flips at knowing he’s just as affected as you are. “Jesus Christ, how are you so fucking tight?” He finally bottoms out with a groan, grinding into you with a little half-thrust before moving to pull out again. “Guess I’ll have to change that.” Johnny fucks like he simultaneously has all the time in the world and like he has none at all. His thrusts go from hard and fast to slow and deep, the overall effect leaving you with your head spinning and your body burning with pleasure. Your nails dig into his back and you chant his name like it’s a prayer, and he responds by fucking you even harder, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck.

One of his hands grasps at the sheets near your head, the other resting on your breast. He gives it a loving squeeze before moving his hand up your arm to lace your fingers together, lifting his head up to find your lips. Both of you are panting heavily but Johnny kisses you like oxygen isn’t important, messily sucking at your bottom lip and meeting your tongue with his own. He lets out a deep groan and breaks away from you, dropping his face back to the crook of your neck. His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” “Mhmm, okay,” You squeeze his hand back. “Touch me?” He lets go of your hand to clumsily work his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles into your clit. Your eyes roll and you arch against him, gasping out his name. Your orgasm is so close, you just need that extra push…

Johnny gets there before you can, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groan. His hips stutter and his rhythm grows sloppy but he keeps desperately fucking into you, fingers still frantically rubbing at your clit. He presses a messy kiss to your shoulder, moves up to your ear. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you cum for me.”

It only takes a few more of his dirty words, a few more desperate thrusts, a few more presses of his thumb to your clit before you’re coming, legs locking around his waist and nails digging into his back. He swears at how your walls lock around him in a vice, his hips stuttering again as a hiccupy moan leaves him.

He all but collapses on top of you after, rolling to the side and panting heavily. You giggly breathlessly and curl up next to him, head on his chest. His entire body shivers when you press a kiss to his nipple, and he misses the shot when he tries to throw the condom into the trashcan.

“Did it live up to your imagination?” You finally catch your breath enough to ask. 

Johnny shrugs. “I guess.” He cackles and catches your hands in his own when you slap his chest and make an indignant noise, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m kidding! But actually, it might’ve been even better. We might have to try this again soon, just to be sure.” “Right.” You drag the word out in one long syllable. “Is this your way of saying you wanna go for another round?” “That depends,” He says carefully. “Do you want another round?” You laugh and shake your head. “You’re insatiable.” The air is cold when you roll out of bed and help yourself to Johnny’s closet, slipping one of the sweatshirts that you’ll ‘forget’ to return later on over your head. “But yes. Later though, I’m starving.”

The popcorn Johnny had offered you earlier gets stuck in your throat when Jaehyun barges into the apartment, the door slamming open with way too much force. Johnny snickers and pats your back, moving your water closer.

“Hey man, you have fun?” Johnny asks, only half paying attention as he tries to make sure you don’t die. You manage to dislodge the kernel and give him a thumbs up.

“Yep, nothing better than a free movie!” Jaehyun states happily, chugging the red bull in hand before opening the fridge for another one.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Free? How’d you get free tickets?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to motion at Jaehyun not to say anything, but he’s as oblivious as ever. “Y/n bought them for me.”

“Oh, did she?” Johnny grins, the pieces clicking into place. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hands in his own when you try to bury your face in them. Jaehyun’s already wandered away and Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You had this planned, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault!” You whine, pouting at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to have sex with my hot boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am pretty hot.” Johnny sighs, laughing with his entire body when you glare at him. He coos at you and pulls you into his chest. “But am I your boyfriend?”

Your face goes hot and there’s a moment of sheer panic before you shoot your shot. “...yes?”

“So that makes you my girlfriend, then.” His smile looks even brighter now. “Well girlfriend, it looks like we’re gonna be buying Jaehyun a lot more movie tickets now.”

You groan. 

[pynkhues]

Please recommend some of your fav Rio fics!

Of course, anon! Since you asked for Rio fics, I'm going to guess you meant Rio POV fics? If not, I'm sorry, haha, because that's what I've collated, but I hope you give these a shot regardless! They're all fics I think are pretty great. ;-)

Below a cut, because this got long.

But when he does reappear at the store—she still doesn't hear him coming, she needs to work on that—she's wearing a fuckin' dress, and he's glad she hasn't seen him yet because he can't stop himself from grinning.

Maybe it ain't for him, but given the fact that he doesn't think he's seen her legs since he came back—aside from that one night at the bar when she was definitely feeling herself—it seems like this is an intentional break in the pattern. Either way, he fuckin' loves the idea that she's been dressing up all week, not sure if he's coming but wanting to be ready if he does.

Now Use Both Hands by ms_scarlet / @mego42 6k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Ooooof, this fic causes me physical pain, but I love it a whole lot. Meg really captures Beth and Rio at their most acidic, their most sharp edged, while also managing to balance that with the feelings they desperately don’t want to have. It’s a bit magic, and the fact that she follows this up with another fave, Listening Through the Air Shaft is *chef’s kiss*.

- - - -

When he wakes, he's in a hospital bed, mouth dry as bone and he can taste blood, stale and metallic, on his tongue. The pain in his chest has been dulled by the drugs, but it still lingers, a persistent ache that spikes with every breath.

By all rights, he's a dead man walking.

Ten hours, they had him in surgery. From the look of his chart, he'd flatlined twice, and he can feel the consequences of that, see it in the bruises on his chest, the exhaustion lining the faces of his family. He'd woken to a little hand in his, Pop's cheeks damp with tears, and shit, it'd been close. Too close.

Bury a Friend by @ejunkiet >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

Pivoting from 3.01, this fic is a wonderful, quiet character study that looks at Rio in the aftermath of the shooting before he explodes back into Beth’s life. It pulses with emotion and with the promise of catharsis, and it’s just a really special little fic. The Rio voice is terrific too.

- - - -

He finally gets what he needs one day when Elizabeth’s wearing this tight black sweater with a keyhole that shows off just enough to make Rio’s jaw rock. It’s so out of the ordinary, so unlike her ugly li’l sweaters or her surburban mama button-ups, he does a double take, head whippin’ around so fast that she catches it immediately. Then she catches where his gaze lands, where it keeps landin’ through their whole stilted, irritated conversation, and he sees her chest pinken til he can count her freckles. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and her lips fall open just the smallest bit, and then she looks up at him.

Eyes locked on each other, Rio takes a step closer. Elizabeth doesn’t back away.

I Will Collect You and Capture You by @foxmagpie 17k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

I feel like I've recced this fic 1,200 times at this point, haha, but it really is one of my favourite fics in the fandom. It has this sort of grip on you as a reader that almost embodies Beth's grip on Rio in the story, and the way it builds and builds and releases only to build and build again is really delicious, affecting writing.

- - - -

“Com’n her and her lady friends were shakin’”

“Shakin’ about the lemon on the fuckin’ granite, sure.”

They chuckled as the car rolled on, the suburbs slipping away with the sun.

“Think they’ll pay up?”

There was a groan as Rio shifted in his seat, flexing his fingers along the dash.

“Neighborhood like this? Everybody knows someone who knows someone with a trust fund.”

Mick’s lighter flickered, followed by long, rasping inhale. “And a boat.”

Smoke swirled lazily through the open window up into the purple sky.

“And a boat.” Echoed Rio.

Drivin' through the Suburbs by gangfriend / @00gangfriend00 5k words. Teen+. Mick + Rio friendship, Beth x Rio. Canon compliant.

It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud in a fic, but this one does multiple times. It's just insanely fun, and captures Rio and Mick at their most boyish in a way I find utterly charming. It's really, really delightful.

- - - -

She’s got her crimes wrapped up and categorized in folders with labels and post-its. Wrapped up in gift paper with a big blue bow on it. And she’ll probably ask Turner do you want freshly baked cookies or some shit when they go raiding her kitchen.

Rio should really get it under control. Her, get her under control.

She opens the door and slumps onto the front seat, her eyes set angrily on him. Nineteen voicemails and she’s still got things to say: he sees it in the twitch of her hand, the restless, frustrated pattern. Any minute now she’s going to settle on new words to voice her complaints like he’s here to listen. Like he’s got the time— like he cares. Like he’d better.

It’s a Work Thing by isoldewas >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio. 2.12 canon divergent.

I'm a bit of a sucker for a good canon divergent fic, and this one pivots the car break up in 2.12 in a smutty way that just works unfairly well. It's such a great little fic that really settles well into Rio's headspace during the messiness of s2, and I love it.

- - - -

They settle in their respective places and Rio takes the opportunity to give Elizabeth the same once over that asshole did. Her ass really does look great in those pants and she could fill out any shirt. Her eyes linger over him too, tracing his skin, the bar tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that she’s seen a million times but she devours at every opportunity. Then her eyes meet his and she gives him that small, crooked lil’ smile.

He’s not one for religion, but every so often he takes his mom to Spanish mass. All the viejitos and pious Catholic types think he’s a banger but his ma’s still excited to show him off. He sits with her in the pew and when the priest asks for the congregation to give thanks to God, he says a prayer for the riches that have come to him, the health and brilliance of his son, the vitality of the other little ones in his life now, and Elizabeth. And when he thinks of her in those moments, he sees her in his mind’s eye with this exact look on her face.

A Bit of a Stretch by @septiembrre 5k words. Teen+. Beth x Rio. Established relationship.

Beth and Rio do a yoga class together! There’s such a lived-in feel to this fic that it feels impossible not to fall a bit in love with it – their relationship is explored in a way that feels true to who the characters are, while sanding down the edges to create something that feels sweet in the way they usually aren’t in canon. It's a great fic, but more than that, it really just works in a way that's a lot more complicated than it looks, and it’s all the more charming for it.

- - - -

He’s happy to keep kissing her like this. To savour it. Realises she’s undone the last few buttons of his shirt at some point as she shoves it down his shoulders. Doesn’t have a second to think about his ugly scars pressed to her skin. Can just feel her little hot palms snaking up his back and grippin’ him tight. Refusing to let any light between them as they kiss for what feels like hours.

He realises these are the lips he’s been tasting. Searching for in other women when his night’s got too unbearably quiet, hunting for an echo of the thing he really wanted. Comin’ up short every damn time. Sweet and soft and lethal. Unique to her.

It’s longing in a way he’s never felt. This is the taste of it.

As Good as This by @riosnecktattoo 5k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. 4.05 canon divergence.

Okay, I know I just said how much I loved canon divergence fics, but it bears repeating – I love canon divergence fics, haha. This is such a great alternate take on how the wire scene in 4.05 goes down, and it simmers with tension from the opening line. The way it escalates as Rio navigates this newest betrayal works really well too, and it results in a pretty sexy and surprisingly emotional sequence. Magic!

- - - -

“Do we have a deal?” She asks.

When he turns to look at her she’s smiling, and that’s when he realizes he’s absolutely fucked. He’d just fucked himself out of almost a quarter of a million dollars. He lets his eyes drop down her body, licks his lips and nods.

“I choose the place,” he says and turns on his side to face her. “You owe me half - with interest,” he says and slides a hand into her hair. She’s damp, the sweat slowly cooling.

“That’s not what - “ she opens her mouth to protest and he takes that opportunity to slide his mouth across hers and lick into her mouth.

Long Nights by zetuslapetus / @querenaxx 2k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Rio and Beth bone while negotiating a deal! What's not to love, haha. This has such a fun checks and balances feel to it which just makes me want to peel my skin off, it's so good. It's exactly the way I like my Beth and Rio - hot and snarky and constantly trying to get a leg over the other, literally and figuratively. It's the best.

- - - -

He should go out and find someone to fuck. Maybe text one of his hookups. See if Jen’s working. He has options.

He knows what he should do.

But it turns out fucking other people is a worse hell than the one they create when they’re together.

And now that he’s yielded to this wicked ecstasy, he knows he’ll do anything to keep sitting in the fire with her.

To Sit in Hell with You by @daydreamstew 2k words. Beth x Rio. Explicit. s4 canon divergence.

Canon-divergent from 4.06 – Beth and Rio keep hooking up after the time at his grandma’s place. It’s fun and sexy while also keeping the complicated push-pull and lack of communication at the heart of them. Deeelightful.

- - - -

“Does it make it easier?” Maddie asks him once they’re spent, maybe emboldened because he has already brought her into their bed. Which may be unfair, because Lee had been in their bed from the beginning.

“What?” He seems lost in his thoughts, his arm behind his head. In a few minutes he’ll get up and get ready to get back to the factory. Like always, she’ll be looking for her keys so she won’t be late for work.

“Getting it out of your system before you see her.”

Rio glances at her. “I don’t always see you when I see her.”

It’s so rare for him to explicitly mention this woman, however tenuously, and Maddie waits for more. Rio’s gotten like this about a few women in his life but it doesn’t happen often.

Sure am Using You by aniara 2k words. Explicit. Rio x OC, Rio x Beth.

It's not for everyone, but I absolutely love fics that feature characters with other people in ways that tell you something about the characters' feelings about somebody else. In this fic, Rio's fucking one of his childhood friends, but it's all about Beth really, and the way both Rio and the OC negotiate that is really compelling writing, and feels so in character for Rio. I really love it.

- - - -

Rio dreams of her that night, again. It’s irritatingly pedestrian – Elizabeth’s kissing him deep and then, ah, suddenly his gun’s in her hand and she shoots him, with a double encore. It’s always variations on the same futile theme. When he wakes it’s not that he’s freaked, unaware of reality or his whereabouts. But he’s been soaked in anger for so long. He can’t think straight, not on her. It’s honestly terrifying. Cos stubbornly keeping his head on right is – that’s him. Maybe her entire raison d’etre is destroying every single one of his attributes though.

He ain’t sure if his subconscious is desperately screaming that he’s made the wrong move, letting her live. Or if it’s the total opposite. Could be fucking neither. It’s not – it’s not getting any easier. And that main reason for not biting the bullet, that he’d be mad as hell for being mad as hell at himself over killing her, it's not smelling any less idiotic.

Climbing up the Walls by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe 8k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Another canon divergence from 2.13 and an interpretation of how s3 could've gone, and another one I really love. There's a throughline of chaotic frustration to this fic that rings true to Rio's character for me, and the way that that reverberates through his moments not just with Beth, but alone and with other women, feels really textured and interesting and real. It's pretty great.

[rulesforthedance]

OKAY: The stuff I haven’t been talking about because it is painful and messy and less fun to talk about than running, but now I finally feel the NEED to publicly-semi-anonymously journal it:

For weeks, I’ve been In A State about telling the people in charge that I am not coming back. When I was at school I was so sure that I wanted to leave that I thought it would be easy (emotionally) but it is. extremely not. I have alternated between too-anxious-to-eat-or-do-anything-but-dissociate and just deep heartsick grief. I’ll think of one individual kid or coworker and just cry. I love them and I’m leaving them. It feels like a breakup, when you know you have to break up with someone, but you love them, but love is not enough and it’s just not working, so you have to DO IT and break both your hearts. I talked with my therapist about it and she picked up that I was kind of looking for a way for it to not hurt and she was like, yeah, you’re gonna grieve, it’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna be disruptive for a while. And it’s about how to experience that without pushing it down (which is what I did when I grieved for my dead friend, because I was afraid of not functioning in the world if I, like, fully surrendered to grief or whatever, and that not only fucked up my general emotional capacity for a long time, but also generated a lot of guilt for Not Loving Him Properly) while still taking care of yourself and receiving care from others in a way that lets you get through it.

And I also feel stupid and selfish and melodramatic. Teaching is stressful for everyone. Everyone is having a bad year and they didn’t go on FMLA. And I am thinking about how to get through my grief when I am doing harm. Maybe--it’s a crapshoot: the person who replaces me could be impatient and reactive and respond to the surface behaviors instead of taking the time to learn how and why that kid is hurting and what would be a more effective and kinder way to reach them. And taking that time and doing it the complicated right way was something I prided myself on for a long time. I know my kids! I respond in an individualized way. I am gentle with them. But I got worse at learning them and taking the time as I got more burned out, which is not what I want to give them. And maybe the person who replaces me will be able to do what I used to do, and maybe better! The kids might be better off OR worse off with me gone, and that’s how that is.

I finally talked to my principal today. I called the secretary and asked if the principal would be available if I dropped by later this afternoon, but she just put him on the phone instead. So I told him. And I was more honest about my reasons for leaving than I thought I’d be. And he was so kind and supportive, which was a huge relief but also made me more sad. And he said he’d be very happy to be a reference as I apply for jobs. So that went as well as it could. And I am very sad, and I know I’m doing what I have to do.