#also you know one of them is. nineteen years old. right.

[joyflameball]

I feel like "Being excited at people dying a slow horrible painful death is fucked up" should be a given but

[wqnwoos]

joshua hong breaks your heart three and a half times before you can even reach nineteen, and yet you can’t stop loving him with the pieces that remain.

i. the first time ; when you meet

the story of you and joshua starts at the beginning, which sounds pretty redundant, but it’s the beginning in more may than one. the beginning of friendship — the beginning of freshman year — the beginning of something bigger than two fourteen year olds can imagine.

it starts, as you say, at the onset of freshman year. you’re nervous — extra nervous because these kids went to the same middle school, and you’re the stranger, the outsider, the transfer student who nobody knows yet. it’s obvious in the way they talk to each other; gossipping about unfamiliar names, inside jokes only they understand.

and so homeroom begins with ice breakers, and it turns out that you and someone named joshua hong have the same favourite colour and you both like horror movies, and that’s enough for you to think to yourself, that one. i want to be friends with that one.

for a moment, it seems like that sentiment is mirrored. when lunch is called, and you’re stuck in the corner of the canteen, eating lunch alone, joshua hong appears to your side, holding his tray. he smiles at you first, and when he speaks, he speaks softly; you like him instantly, especially when he gets your name right first try, and talks to you about the horror movies you like.

unfortunately, your conversation lasts about five minutes; it’s interrupted by joshua’s actual friends, waving from another table, yelling for him to come join their arm wrestling competition, and someone wants his chocolate milk, and, and, and — because of course, joshua is popular.

he’s also incredibly polite, for a fourteen year old boy, looking between you and his table, eyes torn, mouth twisting. but you make the decision for him; you stuff the last of your food in your mouth — it tastes like cardboard — and you gesture for him to leave, saying, through a dry mouthful, “i’m done anyway, go ahead!”

he leaves then, sending an apologetic smile you pretend not to see. you won’t be pitied, not even by popular guys with nice smiles. but when you walk out the cafeteria, as alone as you were when you walked into it, your silly, young little heart does break a little.

and then it’s glued back together by clumsy fingers the next day. joshua’s in the cafeteria before you, and this time, he waves you over to his table, patting the seat next to him. he introduces you to his friends, who are nice and sweet and funny, and you do like them, you just like joshua that extra little bit more.

ii. the second time ; when you fall, suddenly, completely, absolutely.

by the time junior year rolls around, you and joshua are joined at the hip.

you do everything together. you’re at his house more than your own; his mom calls you the second child she never had; your mom calls him by his nickname; you know his deepest darkest secret, and he knows yours; he’s your favourite person in the world, and as teenagers are apt to do, you’d never willingly tell him such a thing.

“you’re disgusting,” you tell him, whenever he belches, unashamed, on your couch after a horror movie marathon. “you’re the worst!” when he tickles you within an inch of your life, rolling onto the floor with you in a mad tangle of limbs and giggling. “i hate you,” with a smile on your face, when he teases you about a crush or pinches your nose a little too hard.

“you love me,” is always his response — easy, carefree, and the l-word rolls off his tongue so confidently, sometimes you wonder how he does it. but you do love him. as a friend, of course, and nothing more, despite what other people say. at school, people think you’re together — people pull you aside in the locker room, giggling like they’re in on your secret (“so, you like like him, right?”) and nobody believes you guys when you deny it.

“it’s not like that,” you find yourself saying over and over, until it feels like the words are tattooed on your tongue. “he’s just josh, you know?” and he is. he’s just your joshua. nothing more, nothing less, he’s just your person — your best friend.

you manage to convince yourself as well, with those repetitive words, until one day, you find out you can’t.

it’s a sunday, and so of course, he’s singing sunday morning as the two of you stroll down to the park, hands stuffed in your respective pockets. it’s late september, but the dregs of summer are lingering longer this year, and the two of you are drinking them up before autumn rolls around, and strips the greenery bare.

“your obsession with that song needs to be studied,” you say, and it comes easily because you haven’t realised yet.

“your brain needs to be studied,” is his quick retort, as you guys make it to your usual spot.

it’s nothing special, this spot — to an outsider, at least. it’s a crumbling wall to the side of the park, that overlooks a pond (an ugly, swampy looking pond, but a pond nonetheless).

to you and joshua, the deteriorating wall is your Place, with a capital p, because that’s how important it’s become to the two of you. it’s simply. a little bit ugly, but who cares, when you have your whole life stretching in front of you, a wall to sit on, and a best friend to argue over the red gummies with?

“there are five red gummies,” he pronounces, peering inside the pack. “i call dibs on the third!”

“what?” your voice raises automatically. “absolutely not. you had the third one last time.”

“last time there were six!”

“that’s so not fair!” you poke his rib, scowling. “we’ll split it. for justice.”

joshua sighs, long and reluctant, but nods, setting the packet between you — but moments later, when you’ve spiralled down a tangent of cursing out your physics teacher, he swipes down on the third, stuffing it in his mouth with a triumphant, guiltless grin before you can even say stop.

“you’re evil,” you say, slow and shocked, narrowing your eyes at him. “you’re actually fucking evil!”

“sorry,” he says, without the slightest hint of remorse.

“i hate you.” and again, you’re smiling — and so is he, throwing his head back to laugh (because the thought of you hating him is so ridiculous that he has to laugh), and his darn eyes catch the afternoon sunlight at just the right angle, twin pools of honey brown, and you’re drowning in them; and his laughter sounds like music, and his hair’s blowing back in the breeze, and the lines of his face are lighting up golden; and oh, fuck, you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“you love me,” he says, normally, casually, his ordinary response, but it feels like he’s plucked the sentence straight out your mind, where it had been nothing more than a half-formed sentiment you’d pushed into the corner.

cheeseballs, you think to yourself, breathless, stomach sinking, eyes wide. i think he’s right.

i think i love him, your fifteen year old self thinks, and then your fifteen year old self’s heart breaks.

it’s more painful than the first time. much more.

iii. the third time ; when he leaves (because you push him out the door)

the third time is not like the others. you can’t pinpoint a specific moment; it happens gradually. less of a shattering — more of a slow crushing, like joshua is pressing down on the centre of your chest, slow, heavy, and completely unaware of how blood is spurting from the cracks of your heart.

because he doesn’t know — of course he doesn’t know. and he can’t know now, now that the two of you, as a unit, have become past tense.

you can barely call himself your friend anymore, and it’s entirely your fault.

not even a month after that fateful day in junior year, joshua had gotten himself a girlfriend. and she wasn’t mean and you couldn’t hate her even if you wanted to, she was the sweetest person alive, and had no problem with you; but still, that step did mean other things, like backing off joshua a little. there was another priority in his life now.

they only lasted three months, but it felt significant. it felt like a sign — he’s not yours, he can never be yours, and so even after emily benson and joshua broke up, you kept your distance. then he joined the football team, with seungcheol and mingyu and those guys, and you joined the photography club with wonwoo and seokmin and those guys, and there was suddenly this divide. a line drawn; you were the artist.

because joshua did try, and he definitely tried more than you. he’d invite you over to his house for movie marathons, and you’d decline. he’d wave at you from across the football pitch, and you’d pretend not to see.

you only see his mom in the supermarket now. she still hugs you, calls you her other child. you don’t know what to say to her.

it is, technically, your own fault. self-preservation instincts; because being around joshua hurt like a bitch after that sunday. there was an ache in your heart you’d somehow not noticed for two years, but now that you’d noticed it once, it was there always, a permanent throbbing pain in your chest.

you think of it as losing your heart; you’d given it to joshua without even realising, and he hasn’t realised either. and so the hot, slippery organ is left in his hands, and you don’t know how to get it back.

senior year comes, and it’s clear to everyone that there is no longer a you and joshua. sometimes you get questions about it; “did you guys fight?”, “what even happened? was it emily?”, “did he cheat on you?”, and you answer them all wearily with a smiling front.

just drifted apart, i guess, you always say, paired with a nonchalant shrug, like it doesn’t kill you a little every time you see him.

you wonder what he says, when they ask him. if they even ask him at all.

iii.v half broken, half mended

joshua shows up at your house.

it’s the night before graduation, and if it were a movie, it would be raining when he knocks on your door — but it’s still warm, there’s still faint sunlight behind him, and he’s panting slightly on your doorstep, eyes wide with something you don’t have the time to read before he’s rushing out words, garbled with speed.

you’ve just woken from a nap, and you don’t understand a word he’s saying; you hear a whole lot of “we” and “friends” and before he can get any further, you raise a hand to stop him.

“what — what are you talking about, shua?” you question genuinely, rubbing your sleepy eyes as though this is some sort of twisted dream.

joshua lets out a breath on your doorstep; he looks harried, panicked, like if he doesn’t say everything he needs to, he’s going to explode. but he holds back, inhaling, exhaling, suddenly short of breath at the sight of you, up close after what feels like forever.

“where did you go?” he says finally, and you can hear fifteen year old shua in there, a crack in his voice, emotion leaking into it.

you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, and you don’t have an answer for him. “i didn’t go anywhere,” you reply, voice small. you don’t look at him, because both of you know it’s a lie.

“you did,” he repeats needlessly. “it felt like you left me.”

you don’t have anything to say, and so you stay silent. there are birds chirping, you realise absently, somewhere behind him.

“was there a reason?” his words are growing quicker now, spilling out of him like they’re overflowing; and maybe they are, maybe he’s kept them locked up just as long as you have. “there must have been a reason — you need to tell me, i deserve to know. don’t i?”

his voice is tinged with a sort of raw desperation that pulls at your heart, because no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise, he’s still your shua, he’s still your person, and you can never hate him.

he deserves to know, and you’re too cowardly to tell him.

joshua waits. (he’s always been the more patient out of you two.) “you won’t tell me,” he realises finally, stepping back just once. “god. fuck. i don’t even know why i came.”

he turns, and you blurt three words that halt him in his tracks. you see the way he freezes on the spot, and so you repeat them again, just so he can be sure.

“i love you,” you say, softly, but he hears you. he hears you and turns around, and his pretty doe eyes are round with confusion.

you don’t realise you’re crying until he wipes away the few that have spilled oit the corners of your eyes; he does it delicately, with hands that tremble a little. they’re unfamiliar in their familiarity, those hands, and the feel of them makes you close your eyes.

both of you are breathing shakily. like you’re on the cusp of something new; something bigger.

“how long?” he asks quietly, hands trailing down to cup your cheeks.

you don’t open your eyes when you speak your next words, pouring from your mouth into the space between you. “since we were fifteen.”

joshua’s quiet for a moment, and when you open your eyes, there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and the ghost of tears filling his eyes. “haha,” he whispers, leaning closer, “i win.” his lips brush against yours, so light and feathery it could barely be called a kiss.

he pulls back, forehead against yours, and smiles, properly this time. “since fourteen,” he says, and it feels like your heart is mended and broken at the same time.

an / typed this out in an hour of feverish inspiration. idk. 💪

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

[sunkissedchld]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

this is my first astro observations post, so please be kind!

shout out to @faiirina and @cloudwaeve for helping me to develop some of these theories 💛

⟡ this might have been stated before, but the degree your sun sign is at could be the age at which you start to connect with it or the traits associated with it

for example, i have sagittarius sun at 19°. at nineteen years old, i went away from home on my own for the first time (travel). i also expanded my learning by going to college, and i delved deeper into spirituality.

⟡ taurus rules over the ears and second house, so it’s only natural placements relating to it could explain our hearing! your second house sign could explain how or why you like to listen to music.

i have virgo in the 2H and noticed that i like to listen to music with headphones because i can hear the intricacies of the instruments and harmonies better. cancer 2H — likes listening to music that coincides with their emotions. might be more reserved when sharing their music tastes scorpio 2H — could listen to indie/underground music. might like to listen to songs on low volume. the type to eavesdrop of conversations while listening. aries 2H — prefers listening to their music over a speaker. the type to have a workout or hype playlist.

⟡ the planet right before your sun sign is called your guiding planet. this planet could explain what’s important to you in life or what “guides” you as a person.

i have pluto as my guiding planet and have always been fascinated by the idea of transformations. i look to transform myself regularly whether it’s through looks or even spiritually! i’m always searching for ways to become a better version of myself through this. i may do a longer post explaining the effects of one’s guiding planet 👀

⟡ this isn’t inherently astrology related, but for every person i’ve asked - their favorite number and the number of letters they have in their name tends to line up

my favorite number is 3 — i have only 3 letters in my first and middle name person two’s favorite number is 4 ��� their name has only 4 letters person three’s favorite number is 16 - their first and last name adds up to 16 i’ve also discovered that this number tends to somewhat align with one’s north node or explain one’s life purpose or where in life you need to learn to deal with something. again, my favorite number is 3, but my north node is in gemini in the 11H. the 3H deals with communication and according to my north node, i’m supposed to learn how to use my voice to both stand out in my uniqueness but also conform with society in order to speak for the collective.

⟡ the twelfth house governs what’s hidden - like emotions and beings without a physical form, so the sign in your twelfth house could explain how easy or difficult it is for you to pick up on energies.

i have cancer in my 12H along with jupiter, so it’s very easy for me to pick up on different energies; in fact, sometimes i attract different energies to my own without even knowing about it! leo 12H — you may be more confident in when you pick up energies, so in a way it could be easier for you, but in a different way than for water signs. different energies may find it easy to speak with you or be around you pisces 12H - this sign might find it the easiest ot pick up on different energies because it’s at home! you may pass your own energy onto others without knowing it. people may want to feed off your energy because of how intoxicating it might be - this could extend to scoprio 12H too sagittarius 12H - you might have to actively search out energies when it comes to pick up on them, or maybe you just like to. they don’t really come to you naturally like with pisces.

⟡ i noticed aquarius suns tend to have intoxicating smiles.

think about it! yang jeongin from stray kids, hobi from bts, megan thee stallion, and j.cole. both jeongin and hobi have smiles that show throughout their whole face. megan thee stallion has had people talk about her smile all the time - it’s wide and stands out. j. cole literally has a song named “crooked smile” and although his smile doesn’t fit the societal standard of what considered “nice” it’s still unique to him.

⟡ arabic lots are so much more than just your part of fortune

there’s actually a whole list of lots that can be calculated through various combinations. i think i’ll do a post on this later on, but some of the most interesting lots i saw were: Anareta I and II - Taker of Life, Ancestors, Expected Birth, Boys (Sons), Girls (Daughters), Fortune in Husbandry, Influence, Karma, Lawsuits again, there’s a ton more, but i don’t think they’re talked about much (at least not on here), so i’d like to learn more about them!

⟡ the third house deals with transportation, so the sign in your third house could represent how you are when traveling

i have libra in the 3H, and i tend to be laid back when it comes to the actual process of traveling. i wear hoodies and sweats, and i’m very low maintenance when going on a road trip or going on planes. sagittarius 3H — the type to be like an excited puppy. is rushing everyone because of how excited they are. might be more inclined to ask others where they’re traveling as they sit and wait capricorn 3H — might be a little more stuffy when it comes to traveling. keeps a tight schedule when leaving and going. could prefer to where business wear when traveling because that’s comfortable for them lol leo 3H - not completely laksidisical, but also is to an extent. focused on making sure their outfit is perfect (you never know who you could meet on a plane, ya know?) may have everyone wait for them because they need to be sure they packed EVERYTHING

⟡ going back to arabic lots, there’s one called Spirit that i think better explains your own spirit as a person (like your personality and how you view life) rather than the actual asteroid Spirit, which i interpreted more so as your guides.

⟡ asteroid Aglaja (47) is named after one of the Greek charities - she rules over beauty splendor, glory, and magnificence. as a result, the asteroid could explain where you can find glory or explain your financial success during life

sagittarius — in another country/place different from your home town; could be lucky when it comes to finances; might even win the lottery virgo — in a place of service, like a community center or non-profit organization; will indulge in the finer side of life - a focus on the arts aries — in a leadership position or cut-throat industry; you may make and spend money quickly - likely water flowing through your hands

⟡ asteroid Kalliope (22) is named after another muse - one ruling over eloquence and epic poetry. this asteroid could give more insight into how you sound or how you use your words. look for aspects to mercury for even more information!

cancer — utilizing emotion to get your point across; could be more passive when speaking; people may find it hard to hear you libra — again, could be more passive; tries to make everything agreeable; tries to uplift others; a firm and encouraging voice scoprio — could be less inclined to talk, but people listen when you do; you use your words to offer insight or point out something important

⟡ in my opinion, where saturn is in your chart could be an area of life where it takes time for you to grow into

gemini / 3H — it takes time for you to learn how to communicate your thoughts well. if in the 3H, depending on the sign, you could be introverted and find it hard to speak or you’re too quick of a speaker. you could even have a speech impediment. with gemini, it’s dependent upon the house, but you could be in your head too much when it comes to what you say or you tend to rub people the wrong way with your words. capricorn / 10H — it takes time for you to grow into your reputation or work life. in the 10H, you may find it hard to get promoted. in capricorn, you could find it hard to not be so work-oriented in every aspect of your life; it could be hard for you to just go with the flow. aquarius / 11H — it takes time for you to learn to fit in with the collective. in the 11H, it could be hard for you to make friends, or you could fond it difficult to see how your life will pan out in the future. in aquarius, you could find it hard to connect with others and also see the uniqueness you possess.

⟡ where venus, taurus, and virgo are in your chart could explain what aesthetics you’re into. so can the signs in your second and sixth house

⟡ having too much of one element in your chart can actually start giving you the opposite effects if it’s not balanced out enough

you could view this literally in that having too much of anything could always turn out to be “wrong”. too much water leads to flooding, too much fire leads to wildfires, and so on and so forth. in this same way, having too much water in your chart could lead you to be more confident or maybe less in tune with your intuition. too much fire could lead you to be more quiet and in your head. too much earth could make you live with your heads in the clouds and less practical. too much air can lead you to be concrete in your actions and thoughts.

⟡ both leo and pisces give off little kid energy but in different ways

leo represents the little kid that has a ton of energy and wants to play all day. the kid who plays out all their fantasies and acts as their own hero. pisces represents the quieter kid that prefers quiet coloring or drawing to group activities. the kid who you have to find a way to connect with before they come out of their shell. both signs are kid like in how they dream. both signs are wide-eyed when it comes to the things they dream of doing, or thee people they plan on becoming. this makes me want to do a post on the sun signs as children 😭

thank you for reading this all the way through if you did!

if you notice anything else from what i’ve said, or if you go around a play with arabic lots, please let me know!!

i’d love to know what you think and what you discovered also!

[threezzyo]

໒‧₊˚ your little secret ∘︴fushiguro t.

∾you were always a good girl, as a governor's daughter, but little did anyone know... it's only natural to have a crush on your bodyguard. 6'1", the biggest muscles you've ever seen, scars begging to be licked. months of seducing him leads to something you wanted, something secret between the two of you. daddy doesn't have to know that his daughter is hooking up with her bodyguard behind the scenes.

∾older!bodyguard! toji fushiguro x fem!brat!reader. modern au. word count- 3.4k ∾NSFW! MDNI! age gap, (17 years) reader is a senior in high school (19, early birthday). dark-ish content! brat taming. no use of y/n. toji is a bit harsh... kinda 'used' as a toy. (mentions of using as a sleeve) usage of brat, slut, minx, good girl (for reader) and daddy, oldie, mister (for toji). promiscuous reader. finger sucking. car sex. smoking. oral (m recieving) riding! pussyjob kind of. slight exhibitionism (in a parking lot where literally anyone can see them......) biting. lots of teasing lorddd. just filthy, depraved, NASTYY smut.

∾indi's notes: i am sorry for being so iffy with posting and i will also stick to a theme now lol 😜 divider creds to @/cafekitsune

you were nineteen and hopelessly in love with your 36 year old bodyguard.

you had a student council meeting today, and was the last one to leave. toji fushiguro, your bodyguard (more like chauffeur) was waiting against the brick wall of your fancy pants school, cigarette in hand. he seemed to be texting someone, his mood irate.

“oh, y’er finally here.” he says in that rough voice you absolutely love. "took you long enough, brat.”

he pretends not to notice your skirt hitched up with your ass practically hanging out, or the two unbuttoned buttons on your thin white blouse that doesn’t do much to hide the lacy black bra you decided to wear.

it became a routine, before he picked you up, you’d unbutton your blouse a tiny bit and hike up your pleated skirt in the girls bathroom. maybe slather on some lip tint.

“i’m not a brat. and i told you i’d come out late.” you retort, skipping down the parking lot.

“unlock the car, oldie!” you yell, already reaching the expensive car he drives you around in. it’s yours, the porsche 911 carrera cabriolet, but why not let the handsome man drive it for you?

“tch.” he mumbles to himself, unlocking the car. "what a minx."

you were already nice and comfortable in the passenger seat when he got there, curled up on the fancy leather, your skirt riding up to your mid thighs. you were scrolling through whatever social media was popular, your headphones plugged into your ears.

what a typical high school girl.

he knows it’s wrong. he’s nearly twice your age, and you just turned nineteen, just a baby. and just because you’re the governors daughter doesn’t mean you were all prissy and proper, or sweet and innocent, you were quite the opposite.

even if your father paid a pretty penny to keep you out of trouble, a little extra cash from you was enough to keep him quiet. a man does what he has to do.

and unfortunately, your hedonistic lifestyle was gonna get your sweet father in trouble- and even worse, toji’s job at risk if he didn’t keep you under control.

“brat.” he leans over and snatches your headphones from the wire.

“toji!” you exclaim, irritated. “give them back, oldie!”

he rolls his eyes, throwing them in the backseat. “get them later. now shut y’er trap and listen to me.”

you grumble, falling back onto the seat. "i'm listening."

he takes a breath. "you know the election coming up, right?"

you furrow your brows. toji doesn't seem to be the political type. "yeah. papa's running for re-election."

his voice is low. "you need to keep a low profile. your father can't have anything tarnishing his reputation. especially his brazen brat. so, imma need you to follow my rules." his hand grips the steering wheel as he parks in an empty business lot.

"hey! i am not a brat!" you ripostes.

"oi. if your dad goes down, so do you, princess. i'd listen to me if i were you." he says, leaning in closer.

you scoff, crossing your arms. "fine. what?"

by crossing your arms, you slightly push up your lace clad bosom, easily seen through the sheer material of your white blouse.

his eyes flicker down.

like you didn't notice.

he rolls his eyes, looking back into the empty concrete lot. "y'er not going to go out for any party. y'er definitely not talking to any stranger. or any boys, for that matter. and you gonna have to start wearing something more..."

you grin. "more what?"

"more prudish." he grits, his eyes blazen. "can't have you prancin' around like that."

despite his tone, there's a hint of arousal in his voice, and he can feel the blood rushing right where he didn't want it to be. he clears his throat and tries again, "just follow those rules while i'm around, okay? it will make things easier for y'er daddy."

you roll your eyes, pulling your skirt down a bit and buttoning your blouse again. “just send me to a damn convent, then.”

toji grits his teeth at the girl's defiance. why does she have to be such a brat? and why did his dick twitch at the sight of her fixing her clothes? "don't be so stupid, girl. i'm just looking out for your safety, and if you don't cooperate, there will be consequences."

“consequences? like what?” you ask, your eyes wide and curious.

"like... being punished," he murmurs, barely audible. "if you disobey me or disrespect me in any way, i won't hesitate to discipline you."

you didn't realize how close toji had gotten to you, feeling his minty tobacco breath hit the side of your face.

there was an opening. and you took it.

"i wouldn't mind being punished.” you say with a sultry smile, giggling.

fuck.

she's right there, forbidden fruit, so very tempting.

he really shouldn’t, but he did.

"you wouldn't?" he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "well, you better be prepared for anything then." he grins.

he swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt. "get in the backseat. you wanna act like a slut, i'll treat you like one."

you're pushed into the back of your car, toji following you. without warning, he pulls you into his lap, so that you're straddling him. "toji!" you squeal, eyes wide open as you drink in the lecherous look in his eyes.

"toji-" you're abruptly cut off by his palm.

"didn't tell you to talk, now, did i?" his shit-eating grin was so infuriating, but also so enchanting. "you gotta listen to me, sweet girl. i don't want a single word out that damn mouth."

you narrow your eyes, but comply anyways.

"good girl." he smirks, sticking two fingers in your mouth. "suck."

you looked absolutely bewildered. “to-“

“suck.”

he sticks his two fingers in your mouth, going down your throat and causing you to gag.

that look in his eyes, it was so lewd. it just made you more turned on.

your tongue swirls around his digits. you look like you’re pouting by how your bottom lip sticks out, lips latched on his fingers.

he could hear your sinfully wet sounds as you suck on his fingers, soft whines escaping your lips.

he slides his fingers out of your mouth, a little wet pop! sound.

“do the same with my cock.” he demands, pushing you to the floor of the car.

you’re on your knees, silently thanking the gods for this opportunity. a true blessing in disguise.

“gladly, toji.” you grin, your head resting on his knee. your fingers ghost over the tent in his grey sweatpants, eyes never leaving his.

he looks like a mess, his pants practically bursting at the seams.

“i don’t have all day, sweetheart.” he warns, pulling at your hair. “no time for y’er dilly dallying.”

you sigh, wanting to tease him more. he spreads his legs a bit further, and you pull down his sweatpants, before palming the bulge in his boxers.

“damn, daddy.” you giggle, tracing the wet spot. “all of this for me?”

“jesus, girl, you can’t even follow orders?” he groans, grabbing at your wrists and forcefully makes you pull down his boxers. his dick sprung up, nearly hitting your nose. angry, veiny, girthy. the others you've hooked up with pales in comparison to the older man.

you've never been nervous. it was big, too big. "toji, that.. that's not gonna fit." you mumble meekly, staring at it.

"fuck, girl, i know you've taken dick before. don't tell me you're tappin' out so early." he leers. "use your hands if it's too much." he gets comfortable in the leather seat, yanking you closer to the tower he calls his dick.

"daddy. you're so mean." you whine, your breath hitting his tip. "its so hot." he isn't having your shit. he just grips your hair tighter, forcing your mouth open with his other hand. he only pushes your head down so that your lips clamp on his tip.

"urgh- to-" the wind is nearly knocked out of you as he shoves his fat dick further down your throat. it's so messy, tears prick your eyes and your saliva mixed with his pre-cum trickles down his cock, dripping down his balls. now was the absolute worse time to have a gag reflex, stomach heaving as you struggle to open your jaw to fit all of him.

"ahf, to-.." your moans are muffled by his cock, whimpers and whines reaching his ears as you find the energy to bob your head up and down.

"fuuck. good girl." his grip on your hair loosens, allowing you to catch your breath as your mouth unlatches from his dick.

"shit, oldie, what the fuck?!" you whine, coughing into your school blazer.

"just giving ya a break." he's kinda nice at times, wiping away your smeared mascara. "but i'm not nice all the time. you're sucking me off, girl."

you shoot him a glare. "just.. don't shove it directly down my throat."

he chuckles, caressing your cheek. "hurry on, sweet girl."

you whimper, but you abide grudgingly. your sloppy mouth takes him so well, he lets out a low groan of satisfaction at the way your teary eyes make eye contact with him.

"fuck, yes, sweetheart." his calloused hands guide your head up and down as the slick collects and drips down his base. "such a good fucking girl, yes, mmh.." he's merely using you as a cocksleeve now, your tongue swirling around his tip. your nails make half moon indents on his muscular thighs, your staggered breaths hitting his trimmed pubes. your obscene sounds play like music to the older man, your teary, coy eyes glassy as he fucks your throat.

you lick the vein on underside of his cock, bobbing your head up and down, giving yourself a break by also licking the skin on his balls.

using your nimble fingers, you toy with the base of his cock.

“ah, to-ji, please…!” you croak, as his hips piston once more into your awaiting mouth, cum brimming in the back of your throat. you have no choice but to swallow.

the way your teary countenance and cum-dripping lips look to him is delectable. he laughs, throwing his head back as he comfortingly pulls your hair back.

“good girl.” he grins as he sees you wipe the cum off your lips. “you’re getting better by the second.” his expression was so pestiferous- he enjoyed seeing you cough, he enjoyed how you cleared your throat since it was so hoarse. he liked seeing you fix your messy lip gloss, liked seeing you sniffle as you rest your temple on his knee, looking up at him like a darling little kitten. begging for more.

you had never felt so needy before. blowjobs were something you just gave to get a feel for how big a guy was. and if it wasn't to your standards, you left disappointed but he at least got something out of it.

"sweet girl." his fingers toyed with your hair, as if to apologize and comfort you for the rough treatment.

"toji." you whimper, bottom lip sticking out. "please.. i want it so badly."

"ask nicely." he demands, stroking a strand away from your face.

"...please can you fuck me?" you repeat.

"again. use my name."

you groan. he's really making you work for it. "fuck. fuck me, mister, please!" you shift uncomfortably, finally sitting back up on the seat. "toji, pleasee." you whine, straddling his lap again, hovering over his semi-hard cock, while kissing his cheek. "need you so badly."

he chuckles, hands sliding to grip your hips, letting you kiss down his neck. "ah, little minx. can't say no to such a sweet request, can i now?" he drawls, calloused hands sliding down your skirt to squeeze the meat of your ass.

"ah... 'es, toji.." you murmur, kissing his lips. it was your first with him. his lips were chapped in contrast to yours. you tasted like your berry lip oil and his cum at the same time, and he tasted like cigarettes. your head was tilted, your manicure digging into his shoulder as you ravished his lips.

"you taste good, sweetheart." he purrs, guiding you as he maneuvers your thong off of your body. "i'll be taking this, by the way." he whispers, placing a kiss on your neck, stuffing your panties into the pocket of his grey sweatpants.

"t-toji!" you peep, eyes wide in bewilderment. "g-give them back-"

"nah." he sits you down on his lap completely, the base of his now rock hard cock teasing your aching, sopping slit. "ride me, girl. wanna see you try."

your face was even more flustered, if that was even possible. "whatever you say, daddy." you feign your confidence, adjusting your position.

he slides off your white blouse, unlatching your bra. "pretty little tits. wonder who else saw these, hmm?" he teases, tongue teasing your peaks.

"ah- toji! fuck! n...not so sudden!" you instinctively arch your back, nails sinking into his chest covered by his compression shirt. he simply wraps his arms around your waist even tighter, virtually feasting on your perky breasts. "toji! fuck, not there..!" you squeak, noticing the salacious string of of love bites dissipated on your neck, collarbone, and under breasts.

"mm.. nah. i like marking up my girl." he mutters, taking in your nipple in between his teeth.

"ow!" you yelp, tugging on his hair instinctively. "that hurt."

"oh, 'm sorry, baby. won't happen again." his sleazy grin says otherwise.

"toji, ah... need more." you whimper, rocking your hips against his cock, wetting the base with your arousal. "want you in me so bad."

his eyes were dark hearing your pleas, his fingers gripping the meat of your ass. "damn, nasty girl, begging for it? might just give you what you want if you promise to be good."

"please, daddy." you groan, lifting your hips up to hover over his dick.

"so impatient..." he sighs, pressing a butterfly kiss to the back of your ear. "go ahead."

you perk up at his allowance, gently swirling the tip around your dripping arousal, flicking your clit with it. "ah.. fuck!" you cry in excitement, sinking onto his cock, so fast, and you didn't even do that much foreplay to be this wet.

"shit, y’er such a slut." toji groans, feeling you engulf him, you feel amazing. "juust like that, baby, good girl." he presses a wet kiss to your nipple. "ride me, i want to find out how quickly you can cum.”

"t-toji, shit." you croak, feeling the slightly uncomfortable stretch. "wait, please, one second..."

"poor baby." he croons in your ear, stroking your hair softly as you bury your head in his chest, trying to adjust. "too big for you?"

"mhm." your sweet voice comes out muffled, relishing his scent. "can we wait?" you mumble. “let me get used to you?”

he barks. “this ain’t for your comfort, darling. you need ta be taught a lesson here.” his eyes flash with a dangerous spark. “y’er lucky i like you a lil’ bit, letting you ride me and all.”

you whimper, feeling more relaxed after slowly rocking your hips. “ngh- it’s so deep, daddy-“ you groan, finally finding the strength to bounce on his dick. “shittt.” you cry, feebly moving faster to chase your high.

“such a good little slut, hm?” toji chuckles, kneading your ass. “tight pussy for such a loose girl. doin’ daddy so well."

“fuck, fuck, yes!!” you cry. “ah.. ngh- daddy, so good, mmh..”

your mind was hazy, focused on riding him with all the determination you got. you lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, moaning his name over and over again. "t-too good, daddy...!" you whine, chasing your high with all your might, legs cramping.

you felt toji's hands twitch at the side of your hips, granting you some leeway by meeting your thrusts halfway, legs spreading a bit further apart. god, how could he have resisted your temptations for so long? he was so infatuated with the way you cried out his name, kohl smeared around your eyes. the lewd cherry on top was the way your tits bounced in his face, as he fucked you senseless.

"harder, daddy, please...!" you claw at his shoulders, nearly ripping the slutty compression shirt.

and harder he went, his hips slamming into your ass, feeling the slick from your wet cunt stain the expensive leather. you felt the car lurch forward. he made the car bounce over and over again, every time he pounded into your perfect pussy.

"you like it, baby?" he asks you, lips latched to your breasts. "dirty girl- hah- likes my cock rough?"

"yes, yes, -ahh- dont stop, please!" your back arches like cat, relieving your leg cramp by your impending orgasm. the bastard made it so much better worse by thumbing your swollen clit, your legs freezing, rendering you helpless.

"you're so sexy like this." he chuckles, seeing you're letting him throw you around like a doll. "taking me like such a good girl, seemed you learned your lesson, hm?" toji pinches your nipple with his other hand, slowing down when you spray all over his thighs with a scream of his name, soaking his grey sweatpants. "fuck, oh my god. " you cry, your orgasm lasting a lifetime, clenching onto him. he relished in the obscene squelch, toji's coil in his stomach was gonna snap soon. the sound of your moans fills the small space of the car, and toji can feel the vibrations of your pleasure echoing through the metal frame.

"daddy-" you choke, "cum in me. p-lease." you whimper, desperate for him, all of him.

"dirty, dirty girl." he sneers, roughly grabbing at your waist to hit into you deeper. "want to be a mom at 19? slut." he groans, when you pick up the slack, slamming your ass down.

"mhh- 'm on the pill, just- ah! please..!" you gasp, when you feel him thrust once more, a harsh smack on your ass ringing.

"take- it." he grunts, feeling his vision blur as he empties his load into your awaiting, perfect pussy. you feel so much of it, so much it's trailing down your thighs.

"ah..! toji." you whisper, eyes wide.

"don't give me that look, you wanted it." he snaps, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. "good girl." he adds, his tone slightly softer.

you don't say anything in return, opting to melt in his arms, feeling his cock soften inside you. "mmm."

he presses a kiss to your temple, "clean yourself up, brat."

you whine. "why am i back to brat?"

he rolls his eyes. "jesus fucking christ. clean up, princess. i need a smoke." he pulls out reluctantly, shamelessly grinning when he sees his cum drip down your thighs. you let him go, lending him a jacket to hide the wet spot you made on his pants.

he's standing outside, leaning on the dashboard as he's texting someone- your father, probably- taking a puff of his cigarette.

you dress again, fixing your skirt and retrieving your bra. you get out of the car, quiet footsteps approaching him, hugging him.

toji is startled when you suddenly appear beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him with that sickly sweet pout. he can feel her breath tickling his neck, and he takes another drag from his cigarette before looking down at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "princess," he says dryly, "what are you doing?"

he takes your silence as a hint to return your affection.

he puts an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and sharing some of his warmth as you two stand together under the setting sun. "we gotta go home soon, princess."

"don't wanna." you murmur.

"aw. c'mon, princess. y'er daddy's asking where we are." he shuts off his phone, putting it in his pocket.

"mm. okay. lets go home." you sigh.

toji takes one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it away and putting it out with his foot. Then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him and kissing you deeply on the lips. "parting gift?" he smirks.

you laugh. "whatever, daddy."

"let's go home now, sweet girl." he rolls his eyes, laughing as you pepper kisses over his face. "and remember..." he adds on, his voice a smooth murmur. "our little secret." he holds out his pinky.

"your little secret." you whisper, twisting pinkies into a small promise, unfolding for better or worse?

hii i was so lazy writing this (took me a whole damn month) (more like two) but i had to get this out i lobe bodyguard!toji so so so muchhhhh 🙁🙁 (not enough to not be lazy)

reminder that fiction is not reality and don't base off sexual relations w/ smut or p-rn. things are exaggerated and they are fantasies. just an fyi because i gen feel so icky when i write darker content (smut) and how it could impact people who read it... just make sure that there's always consent, you're vocal about boundaries, and you feel safe.

reblogs appreciated i love u guys 🤩

༝༚༝༚ indy

- cross posted on ao3- miniminari (linked if i actually posted it LMAO)

[soxcietyy]

hii, can i req a older bf + soft dom yuuta please?

Biker Yuta

Age gap, soft dom, Yuta being fine af in general

It was almost every night, the exact time at 1:30 am where a loud bike would pass by your house. It was so loud that it would wake you up from the deep slumber you where in.

At first you didn't think much about it when you first moved into your new house but now its been months and you kept hearing that loud bike zoom by. At some point you grew tired of it and decided tonight was the night you would confront whoever this selfish individual was. There was tones of roads that person could go on and he decided your street was the one to travel on every night? Did this person not have a job?

Grabbing your coat you slip it on and walk out in your pajama’s that consisted on small shorts and a tanktop. Checking the time on your phone you noticed it was five minutes till one. Walking out the door you stand by the mailbox with your arms crossed. The passing cars probably thinking that you weren't fully right in the head. After a few minutes of standing there you could hear the loud bike from a distance.

How where you supposed to get this person attention? you had no clue but decided to find out once it was time. As the bike got louder you step into the middle of the road. When the vehicle came into view you had to shut your eyes from how bright there headlights. Using your hand to cover your eyes from the light you could feel two hands grab you and pulled you to the side. With a gasp you turn around to see them?!

What was the biker doing here? shouldn't he be the one...

before you could finish that though a car zoomed by extremely fast. Then it hit you, you could of almost died mistaking that car for the biker.

"what are you doing in the middle of the road like that? you could of gotten hurt." A male voice said from behind that helmet.

"I thought it was you!" you say grabbing you heart that almost popped out of your chest

"Me? either way you shouldnt be doing that. Arnt you supposed to be in bed at this time?" He asks as he sat you down on his bike.

"yea i actually am but a loud bike likes to go through my neighborhood, waking me and everyone else up! Do you know how much sleep iv lost because of you?" you say angrily.

grabbing his helmet with both hands he slowly takes it off and shakes his helmet hair before looking at you. "Im sorry I didn't know i was bothering people with my late night rides." he says. "Im usually coming out of work at that time and well this is the way I go to make it home.

"Well how about being more quiet? I would hate for us to have issues." You put your hand on your hip.

"Issues? Now I don’t think that’s necessary. How about I make it up to you?" He mocks you by putting his hand on his hip too.

"How will you make it up to me? Do you know how much beauty sleep iv lost because of you?" You quirk your brow.

"Well before I even give you an answer I need to know about you such as name and age."

"My name is y/n and I’m nineteen." You answer.

"Seven years apart mmh, well how about you let me relieve all that stress you got pent up? If you know what I mean. My name is Yuta by the way." He places his helmet under his arm.

27 and he looks young? He’s also not bad looking at all. It wouldn’t hurt to try something with someone more experienced than you. "Sure but I would hate for your back to give out in the middle of it." You hum

"Hey I’m not that old, let’s see who’s back gives out first huh?" He chuckled as he followed you back to your shared house.

Your roommate was luckily out of town for the week so you had the whole house to yourself. It didn’t take long until he was over you. Smothering you with kisses and the string cologne he wore that smelled rich of leather. His bangs touching your forehead as they dangled over you. He still held his helmet in his hand before he dropped it so he could get a better hold of you.

The kisses were fast but deep. It was almost as if he was so desperate to get a taste of you. As he continued to kiss you his gloved hands snaked under your shirt and fondled your breast. You couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look fine with his blacked out gear. If you knew he looked like this you would have confronted him long ago.

Pulling you closer to him he removed your bottoms and his right hand glove. "Want me to teach you how a real grown man should treat a lady?" He whispers in your ear before sliding his fingers in you.

He long fingers bend and move around inside of you. He made sure to touch every spot causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. Biting your bottom lip you shake your head unconsciously. You didn’t even noticed when he crouched down and began to eat you out. That was until your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

"Yuta" you moan

Hmm? He Hums causing you to jolt from the sudden vibration. Why was he so good at this? Could it be his years of experience? Whatever it was you wanted to thank everything that made it possible for him to be with you tonight. He was eating you out so sloppily that the noises echoed in the room. His tongue glided side to side on your clit as his fingers moved in and out of you. You gripped his hair as you got closer to your orgasm. His other hand grabbed your thigh so you wound the able to escape his grasp.

When you started orgasming you moaned his name once again. Tears rolling down your face from how good it was.

Turning you over on your stomach you could hear him unbuckling his belt. Tilting your head back you could see him adjusting himself to your entrance.

"Arnt you going to take your clothes off?" You ask him wondering why he was fully clothed.

"Wouldn’t want to distract you from the main event." He smacks his hard member on your behind.

He then leaned over you and grabbed your face directing you to look at your pile of stuffed animals in a corner.

"Arnt you too old for those things?" He says amused.

"You can never be too old for stuffed animals" you mumble.

Without saying another word he slammed right into you. Your eyes widen at the feeling of being filled up. You don’t think you’ve ever had something this big inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut you feel how he slides in and out of you smoothly.

"There you go, you’re taking me so well. Thought you would have been crying for me to stop." He says as he quickens his pace. You grip onto your blankets as he slams in and out of you. Each thrust getting deeper and harder. You could hear him breathing heavily next to you ear. You could also heard how the necklaces and chain that he wore cling together with every move. His non gloved hand moved under you and began to pull on your nipple as he continued with his pace.

"You just so cute." He says as he kisses your head, your cheek and your shoulder. "I think I’m gonna start bothering you even more if it mean we get to do this everytime." He mumbles. "Not going to lie I was having second thought about this but I’m so glad I went along. You feel so fucking perfect around my cock." He wraps his arms around your body and slams you all the way into him until he reached places you never thought were possible.

Your jaw drops as he doesn’t let go. Your eyes rolling back at this new painful yet pleasurable feeling. "Yuu" you cry out trying to catch your breath but him hearing you say his name like that turned a switch on for him. He fucked you while you were still being lifted up. Your feet not being able to touch the ground as he used you like his personal cock sleeve. You squirm in his arms being overwhelmed by everything but he held a tight grip on you. At some point you stopped trying and gave in. Your toes curling as you orgasmed once again coating his member in white.

"Easy now, just bear with me for a minute I’m almost there." He groans.

After a few more slams he finally finished inside of you.

He placed you back down slowly and collapsed on top of you. Breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

"Fuck, are you On birth control? Or do you need me to get you a plan B?"

[star-ocean-peahen]

The more you think about Jason Grace's life, the more fucked up it gets.

Like, the whole "joined Camp Jupiter as a three year old" thing. We already know Camp Jupiter is fucked up because it places heavy importance on a child army, despite having plenty of demigod adults at hand, but they straight up recruited a three year old into the military. He showed up and got promptly stuck in a barrack for the rest of his childhood.

Like, why?? Why on earth would they do that instead of giving him to someone in New Rome to raise and inducting him into the legion at a respectable twelve??

And who raised him anyway?? A rotating cast of nineteen-year-old demigods?? His bunkmates in the Fifth?? If he was a young teenager I could see that, but he arrived when he was three, was he even potty-trained??? Did he just grow up being educated by bored teenagers and ghosts, watching as demigods arrived and served and retired, being told that he had to be the greatest of them all?? Did he have any other children to grow up with?? Did the legion even consider him different than the other recruits, or did he have to shovel unicorn dung when he forgot his phonics and live with the constant threat of perhaps being sewn into a bag of weasels??

I find it odd that Jason, as a demigod who grew up in a demigod's world, doesn't have his unique perspective explored more. I find it especially odd that the difference between his childhood and everyone else's is ignored. However difficult and varied everyone else's backgrounds are, they've at least attended a school. They had parents, and family, and a home, at least at one point. They had mortal toys and dwellings and communities that weren't merged inextricably with the myths. They knew where they came from. Do you think Jason, with his powerful, kingly father and impending destiny, ever felt like he didn't know who his family was?

I also find it strange that he doesn't seem to have a very wide network of friends from Camp Jupiter? He has Reyna, who he trusts and works with and depends on. He lists Hazel and Frank among his friends, but they look up to him as a role model. He mentions Bobby and Dakota familiarly, but never again. He's familiar and on good terms with basically everyone—but the only person he seems to consider as a close friend is Reyna. And that wouldn't be odd if he hadn't grown up at Camp Jupiter. He doesn't seem to have any constant companion—anyone he considers his family until he meets Leo.

Maybe he and Leo bonded so well because they both knew what it was like to grow up transiently. To have any constant in your life, and know that the day you would move on or they would move on was fast approaching. Maybe the reason he looked at Camp Half-Blood and admired how united and familial they seemed, and wished Camp Jupiter could be similar, was that he could see in them the family he wished he had.

Honestly, I feel like meeting Thalia should have left him in a lot more turmoil than it did. He grew up with no family but a god for a father, and here's a person who wanted him. Someone who always wanted him because he was Jason, and not the demigod son of Zeus. Maybe even someone to whom he mattered more than his destiny.

I really, really wish we'd gotten to see more of the contrasts between him and Percy. He is explicitly the Romans' version of the hero Percy is, except he's the hero first, and the person second. Jason did everything right! He did everything perfectly, and Percy still got where he did without being trained for it his entire childhood. He's got such a better reason to resent him than "bad vibes". They could have been foils for each other hhhhhhhrngh.

Just. This lonely, idolized, child soldier's life hurts me.

[wilwheaton]

I have a small part in the 1987 television movie (failed pilot) version of The Man Who Fell To Earth. Lewis Smith played the titular character. Beverly D'Angelo played my mom, his love interest. (Fun Star Trek connection: Bob Picardo is also in it).

My character was a Troubled Youth, which I gotta tell you was not a stretch for me at all. I was deeply, deeply hurting at the time we made it. I was struggling not to suffocate on all the emotional and financial burdens my mom put on my shoulders, and fully aware of just how much my dad hated and resented me. You need a kid who doesn't want to be an actor, whose eyes can't hide the pain? I'm your guy.

Anyway, one of the scenes I was in took place in a record store, where Troubled Youth steals some albums, before he is chased by the cops and saved by the Man Who Fell To Earth, who uses a glowing crystal to save his life from ... some scratches on his face.

We filmed the interior of the record store at Sunset and La Brea, in what I think was a Warehouse, and at the end of the day, I was allowed to buy some records at a modest discount.

I was deep into my metal years, on my way from my punk years to my New Wave years, so I only bought metal albums. I know I bought more than I needed or could carry (I was making a point that I was allowed to spend my own money, mom), but the only ones I can clearly remember are:

Iron Maiden - Piece of Mind

Judas Priest - Turbo and Defenders of the Faith

W.A.S.P - The Last Command

(I know this was in March of 1987, because Turbo had just come out.)

Of those, Piece of Mind is the only one I never really stopped listening to, even through all the different it's-not-a-phase phases. I still listen to it, today.

Ever since I became an Adult with a Fancy Adult Record Player And All That Bullshit, I have kept my records in two places: stuff I want right now, and stuff I keep in the library because of Reasons.

Generally, records move in one direction toward the library, even if it takes years to happen. I just don't accumulate albums like I once did, because I'm Old and set in my ways.

Earlier today, I decided that I wanted to listen to an album while I cleaned up the kitchen, and because I wanted to make my life more interesting, I opened the library cabinet for the first time in at least five years.

There was the very same W.A.S.P album from that day in March, 1987. I don't have any of the others -- I looked -- but The Last Command was right there.

Before I really knew what I was doing, I put it on the Fancy Adult Record Player and dropped the needle.

I watched four decades of dust build up with a satisfying crackle, and there was something magical and beautiful about hearing all the skips and the scratches, realizing I remembered them from before.

The title track was just as great as I remembered it. It struck all the same chords in me that it did in the late nineteen hundreds. The rest of the first side was ... um. It just didn't connect with me, and for the few moments I spent trying to find a connection, I don't think it ever really did. I would remember.

But I did remember how much I loved making those mix tapes, and what a big part of them that song was. I did remember how empowering it felt to not just spend my own money that I earned doing work I didn't want to do, but to spend it on music my parents hated, right under their noses. I did remember how impressed Robby Lee was, when I showed him my extensive heavy metal album collection.

Remembering all of that, in one of those cinematic flashes of rapid cut visuals and sped up sounds, told me why I kept this record, while I gradually sold or replaced the other records I bought that day with CDs, then mp3s, then lossless digital files, before finally coming all the way back to records, where I started.

I didn't listen to the second side. I didn't need to. I took it off the Fancy Adult Record Player, and put it back into the library, next to the George Carlin records.

[huffelpuff210]

Only Mine Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Only Mine

Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader 

Warning: Dark Themes,Age Gap,  Forced relationship, drugging kidnapping, Grooming, Stalking, Non Con

Steve was bored and tired it’s always the same thing, Students come in here to achieve, but just end up flunking his class, He was a history professor, And most students come in here thinking it will be easy, since it’s History and end up disappointing him as usual, 

He knew he was being a little too harsh, and He knew that he was missing something in his life that’s why he was so miserable and so harsh on his students, but he knew that he had to find something and outlet or someone, someone to make him happy someone who wouldn’t disappoint him like everyone did. These girls today are just so self absorbed and whore around it’s nothing like before he got frozen in ice, after the serum, and now being retired from the avengers.

He was looking down at his papers grading them, when he saw something he hasn’t before, your name, you have every answer right, an ‘A’ 

Steve smirked knowing that someone was paying attention, You just transferred here from Colorado and this isn’t the first Ease you got an ‘A’ on either Steve has taken notice to you and you payed attention taking notes, watching closely. 

Steve had taken notice to you, and he had one more test for you and then he would make his decision. 

You had you bag hanging on your shoulder as you walked to class with your roommate you were just entering Professor Rogers class room, she was laughing, 

“It’s not funny.” You say

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” Jessica says wiping the tears away, 

“Your a nineteen year old virgin.” She says 

“I told you I’m saving myself!” You yell

As you sit down 

“Okay class settle down.” Professor Rogers says as he starts handing everyone’s work, out your paper was and ‘A’ you were so glad, since you studied your ass off and went over all the notes you could to get a perfect score, You let out a breath of relief so happy that you got a great score,

Jessica slams her forehead on her desk You look over at her she holds up her paper that says ‘D-’ 

“Told you. You should have studied instead of going to bakers party.” you say 

“Oh shut it nerd!” She says 

You chuckle, After taking diligent notes and sitting through an hour lecture you and Jessica were leaving class chatting to one another little did you know Steve was following close behind you two, listening closely to your conversation, 

“God how do you always get ‘A’s’!?” Your friend complains 

“Because I study my butt off unlike you. Who decides to go party.” You say with a chuckle 

“So I like to have a bit of fun sue me why don’t you.” She says 

You laugh, 

“You’re too much of a good girl.” She complains 

“Well that’s what happens when you have a Military father.” You chuckle  Steve smirks, feeling a bit turned on. as the two of you walk

You two walk towards the coffee shop 

Steve knew right then and there that you were perfect for him that you were going to be his girl no matter what, He knew he had to be careful on how he did this, he also knew he had to get you away from your roommate she was a bad influence on you, He also knew that you would make the perfect wife and mother, That’s all Steve ever wanted was a perfect family with the perfect woman, 

Sure you were young but that’s what made it perfect, You could bare many children, you were a quick learner meaning he could train you, 

He smirked at the thought, He had been looking for so long not finding the perfect woman but now it seems that dream is just within grasp. 

“Do you want to go to a party tomorrow night before spring break?” Steve’s attention was caught by your friend asking you, 

You hesitate 

Steve knew you were a good girl, but if you accepted he knew it would be the perfect opportunity 

“I don’t know I still need to study.” You say 

“Oh come on live a little bit.” Your friend says

You sigh

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, I need to study for my next midterm.” You say 

“Yeah, Yeah, the good girl can’t have fun.” She says 

You chuckle grabbing your coffee as the two of you leave Steve smirks knowing he had to plan this just right that you were going to be his girl, Spring break will be in two days, meaning, This is perfect And he knew he had to prepare before tomorrow night.

[itsharleystuff]

╰─▸ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

‘ I just wanna be one of your girls tonight ’

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rockstar!Joel x afab!fem!reader (no outbreak alternative universe).

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend’s boyfriend has an older brother that turned out to be the guitarist of a famous rock band from the 80s. You meet Joel by accident before his concert and things take an interesting turn.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (Joel is 48, reader is said to be in college tho her age isn’t specified), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, sex with a “stranger”, a bit of dirty talk, oral sex (f), use of ‘slut’, praise, mirror sex, fingering, some oral (m), cum eating, reader calls Joel an ‘old man’, smoking (they share a cigarette), pet-names (sweetheart, darling, honey). Also, I know nothing about guitars or concerts so this is probably very inaccurate. This one’s roughly edited, forgive meee. No use of y/n.

— 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬: One of the girls - The Weeknd, Lily Rose-Depp, Jennie. Breakin’ dishes - Rihanna. Todas mueren por mi - Cartel de Santa.

Third-wheeling has now unintentionally become your most recurrent hobby since your best friend started dating Tommy Miller. Not that either of them minded, given that it was their idea.

Tonight was different, however.

"I could've been a part of it, y'know?" the man boasts, "I just didn't know how to play any instruments or how to arrange tunes... I have a nice voice, though. If that counts for anything."

Ary, your friend, giggles at his statement and replies with a comment that you didn't quite listen. Tommy's car stereo is currently blasting The Clashers' latest album— Joel Miller's rock band, that is. Two days ago, you had no idea who the eldest Miller was –only that he existed–, much less that he was the guitarist of a very popular 80s band. Now his brother is taking you and his girlfriend to their gig, to which he was given front row tickets. Nice.

Their music was actually pretty good, though some of the songs sounded more country than rock. Tommy explained that those were most definitely written by his brother, due to his love for the genre. Apparently, The Clashers have had a recent comeback with their newest album and a small tour, all after a long, undefined hiatus that went on for nearly a decade and a half. "Joel's fault", the younger Miller said, "he became a father. A single one, to top it off. But he's the best at it, don't ever doubt that."

"How old is he again?" you wonder, suddenly curious about the age gap between the siblings.

"Forty-eight. His girl Sarah just turned nineteen a couple months ago." You nod absentmindedly at the response.

You met Tommy almost a year ago, when Ary and you used to work at a cafeteria outside of Dallas' university. She'd graduated a few years ago, but needed money to pay her rent and coincidentally, you did too. You hit it off right away, becoming friends but also roommates in further time. Though you were still in college and she was a bit older, that never seemed to be an issue with your friendship or your schedules. Tommy came along shortly after, turning up every day at the café with his charisma and nice manners, making his intentions with Ary very clear since the beginning.

"D'you think there'll be a crowd?" your question makes her raise a brow quizzically.

"Most likely," she retorts thoughtfully. "Why? Are you regretting your own idea?"

Her boyfriend chuckles at that, knowing perfectly well how much you disliked loud, cramped places. It's not that you didn't enjoy this sort of events once in a while, but being someone who gets easily overwhelmed around people, you mostly prefer the sort of lay-back dates. Nevertheless, it was you who came up with this plan for today. With college giving you such a hard time and your colleagues being tremendous assholes lately, you needed something out of your comfort zone to fully unwind. Some action to pull you off the dull routine.

"Are you subtly implying that I'm a boring person?" you ask, falsely offended, crossing both arms over your chest. "Cause I swear I know how to loosen-up, I just need time to... Get used to it."

Tommy seems to be holding back laughter, but Ary doesn't even try to hide her amusement. "Girl, you're lucky I'm your friend, or else you'd be rotting in our local library," she scoffs.

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk pursing your lips, "Yeah, cause that'll be such a tragedy. Who'd support you financially if I didn't study, huh?" you turn your head to her boyfriend. "Tommy?"

The man shrugs his shoulders, fighting against the urge to grin. "Oh, dear," she glances over her shoulder to look at you from the shotgun seat, bright smile painting her face. "Don't give him any ideas. He might just marry me."

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Whilst Tommy went looking for a place to park, you and Ary walked to the nearest convenience store to grab some beverages. You were still running early anyway, which only meant a quick stop wasn't going to imply much trouble.

"I'll wait for you out here," with a head tilt, you silently indicate your friend to go ahead. "I need a cig."

She nods understandingly, "Want me to grab something for ya'?"

"No, I'm alright. Don't worry about it."

Ary stopped at the entrance to look back at you, staring intently for a weird extent of time, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Did I mention you look stunning?"

"You might've had, but that doesn't mean I don't love hearing it," the reply widened her smile. Once she went inside the store, you took a chance to peer at your reflection in the showcase.

This whole eighties vibe was certainly not something you were used to, but there was no denying how hot it made you appear. Aiming for a 'rockstar girlfriend' kinda look, you went for that smudgy, dark eye-makeup; as for the clothes, the mini skirt, low-cut bustier and oversized leather jacket paired with some nice boots kept the whole outfit together.

You blinked away, stunned by how confident you suddenly felt in your own skin. Chuckling to yourself, you started digging in your purse for a smoke. And as if the gods decided to toy with your faith, you luckily found a single one sitting at the very bottom; putting the filter between your lips, you then turned your bag upside down to search for the lighter, only to find that you hadn't brought it with you.

"Damnit," you spat in frustration, closing your eyes to picture in your mind where the last place you'd left it was.

Maybe it was next to your bed, on the nightstand; or perhaps in front of the stove... No, it definitely wasn't in the kitchen. The blurry image in the back of your head resembled more of a��

"Hey," a low, masculine voice called from beside you in a mellow tone, almost as if this mysterious man had a naturally sly nature but wanted to cool it down. "Need a light?"

He had a deep, soothing ring; raspy, profound and very southern-like. Frankly, you didn't know what you were expecting before setting your eyes on him, but it definitely wasn't a man such as he was. A wave of emotions washed over your body as you pried on him; big, broad, rugged and devastatingly handsome. Not to mention older than you— however, how much older is not a detail you care to find out. Your skin felt ticklish and warm, added to the sudden acceleration of your pulse.

First thing you noticed were his big brown eyes, shiny in sort of a childish way, regardless of the wrinkles that surrounded them when he politely simpered. You could tell he was a total heartthrob by the way his lips quirked and his head tilted downwards when addressing you.

He's thick in the arms and wide in the shoulders, something that was noticeable despite the black leather jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of worn-out denims. The cowboy hat on his head casts shadows upon his face but you're still able to make up his features: aquiline nose, strong jawline, soft lips under a styled mustache and a patchy, graying beard. Tall and handsome as hell.

"Yeah," you answer as soon as your mind allows you to, suddenly feeling your mouth dry when realizing you were staring. He bit back a smirk as he gauges at your reaction. "You've got one?"

"Lucky for you, I do." His left hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, taking out a simple red lighter. "I don't suppose you've got a cigarette to spare, do ya'?"

"Sorry," you frown apologetically, "this is my last."

He closed the gap between you, but instead of handing the lighter, he hunched down to lit the end of the dart still hanging from your lips, caging it with his big hand. And fuck, he smelled good. A mix of cedar and sandalwood, fresh and manly.

"No worries, doll." Dizzy with his presence, your eyes unconsciously bored into his. You can't move away, diving inside his pupils like you're hypnotized. "I'll just buy a pack for myself."

Caught up in that urge of keeping him near, you take the dart between your fingers and hear yourself say: "Unless you wanna share."

It was impulsive, not to mention irrational. Yet, all of the rational thoughts inside your brain had unforeseeably vanished in thin air, replaced by a strange need that rested in the pit of your stomach, a wicked desire that rushed through your veins like a drug. His brow shot up in surprise, giving you a subtle, pleased nod. He realizes there's something else behind your proposition, nothing that could be hidden with the way you're shamelessly looking at him.

"Let me guess," he commences, his calloused fingers brushing against your own when he takes the cig, orange end stained with your lipstick, "you're headed to the concert."

Your eyes squint with a crooked smile, "Are you that perceptive or am I just that obvious?" he takes a short drag, holding the fag with a nonchalant attitude and a mannerism that expressed experience.

"Bit of both," the shadows of smoke surround his face, hiding his features behind a thick, mysterious fog. "You've got that groupie vibe to ya'. The kind of girl that has her walls filled with boy-band posters," he jokes.

"Oh, is that it?" you ask playfully, mirroring his action to let the nicotine circle your system. "Cool it, cowboy. I ain't trynna get in trouble for fighting an old man."

He chuckles at your sarcastic remark and you can see the spark of a thin chain around his neck, along with the soft curls that gathered at his nape. Jesus, his side profile was divine.

"What's your name, darlin'?" he asks. You tell him, that southern drawl of his being more noticeable when echoing it. "You from around?"

"Yeah," you blow the smoke away from him, though he takes back the dart while you're at it. "Been here my whole life. You?"

He shakes his head lightly, "Austin. But I've been all over."

You can't help but smile inwardly, "That explains it."

"What thing?" the man asks with a certain intrigue.

"Nothing... You've just got that particular vibe." He's already laughing when you point at the cowboy hat, rejoicing in the way you played with his own words.

"I see that, groupie." He takes the almost consumed cigarette between his teeth and removes the hat from his head, running a hand through his soft curls. "Let's trade."

You watch in awe as he unexpectedly places the hat atop your own head. It sits well there and the way his eyes grow dark and his lips curve upwards can only mean he likes it too.

"What'cha think?" you inquire, slightly adjusting it.

"I think..." he eyes you up and down, ashing the cig with a tap of his index, "You should keep it. In exchange, I'll just take what's left of this lung-junk."

"Well, that doesn't seem like a fair trade," you cross both arms over your chest. "Isn't there anything else you want apart from that half-burnt smoke?"

His head tilts to the side as he meditates his answer, his chocolate hair now messy and a couple of those brown curls hanging loose across his forehead. For a moment, you're worried you might've sounded too raunchy for the occasion, but he looks pretty pleased. His eyes lock with yours and you feel your knees wobbly just from that undeniable tension that lingers in the air.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart." Sweetheart. Damn, he's good. "Find me after the concert's over. You can repay me then with whatever you might find convenient."

Your brows crease at the scheme, curious, "How will I find you, though? I'm certain there'll be a lot of people."

He laughs darkly, like he knew something you didn't –which, to be fair, was probably true–. "Just ask for Joel. I'm sure someone will point you to the right direction."

Joel.

Joel...

Joel?

Could it be...?

"See ya' around, groupie." He sets off with a subtle head gesture, waving back at you.

Your mind was spinning so fast that you didn't even notice when Ary reappeared beside you, rambling something about a woman being annoying over the prices and fighting cashiers, too worked up to even notice your distraught— or your new acquisition.

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

The venue was crammed with people and there was a heady scent of pot all over the place, not unusual in these sorts of businesses. Thankfully, Tommy had arrived earlier to guide you through the masses.

"Here," he said, taking you and his girlfriend by the wrist. "We've got VIP seats, no need to go all the way down there." He pointed the barricade, where a ton of people were congregated to get the better spot.

The area in which you were located had a better view of the stage and was way more comfortable. Only till you finally sat down did Ary notice the new addition to your outfit.

"Did you buy that outside the store?" she wonders, sorta screaming to make herself heard over the mass. Tommy's eyes land curiously on you.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Funny," the man mumbles to himself, shaking his head lightly. "Very funny."

"What?"

"Well," he clears his throat and licks his lips nervously, "I just think it's funny that you'd get a cowboy hat in one of my brother's gigs."

Still in the shadows, you raise your shoulders to beguile him into spilling the details, "Why's that?"

Tommy taps his knee anxiously. "You see, when Joel was younger he'd often 'gift' his hats to any girl that would catch his eye. It was a way of... I don't know, making them one of his girls, you could say. By doing so, the other band members would see her and no one would dare to make a move."

His words fell upon you like an ice bucket. Joel, Joel, Joel. It just had to be the same Joel, because honestly, what were the chances?

Before you can retort, or even form an answer in your brain, the lights go out and the crowd bursts in cheers and shouting. But you can't for the life of you pay any mind to them, too focused on Tommy's story ringing in your ears. Seconds prior to the lights going on again, the sound of a single guitar key reverberated through the venue.

Did Joel Miller just mark you like cattle so no other man would approach you? Was that some kind of sick game he liked to play? If that were the case, you can't really say you're mad about it... Mostly thrilled, so to speak.

"So what would happen afterwards?" you asked, leaning to his ear, so you could make yourself be heard.

"Huh?"

"He'd make his move and then what?"

The man slightly winced as if you had just asked him the dumbest question in the book, "I think you know the rest."

You knew.

Of course you knew.

There's a voice saying "Goodnight, Dallas" and the spotlight is now on the five men standing on stage. You didn't even need to search for his image, your eyes immediately attaching to him like a magnet. A feeling of beguilement settles in your bones as you realize you've achieved that excitement you hoped to get tonight, at last. 

Amidst chaos and loud screaming, he stood there in all his glory, perfectly aware of the impression his sole presence could cause. Messy brown hair, sun-kissed skin and that patchy, graying beard. Convenience store Joel turned out to be rockstar Joel.

The only thing that was different about his appearance were the dark aviator sunglasses that gracefully framed his face, a belt with a big, round buckle and the black Epiphone Wilshire guitar that was strapped to his shoulder with a sash. All of this new fashion somehow made him more physically appealing, if that was indeed possible. He looked like the type of man you'd rip off from a magazine and stick up in the corners of your vanity; the kind of star that girls and women would salivate over.

You could totally see the fascination and understand why it was easy for him to simply pick out someone he liked and take them back to his dressing room for a nasty time. Joel Miller was that guy.

In the back of your mind you register the fact that you're probably eye-fucking him whilst his younger brother and your best friend are both standing at your right. But you can't really help it— he was just so electrifying, such a magnetic force of a man. The whole world seemed to stop as the concert carried on, though you can only make out the melodies when you're far too distracted by Joel's charisma and mysterious air.

The way he moves on stage, too focused on his own act, fingers tugging at the strings and metal vibrating underneath his touch... It's fascinating how he makes it look easy and like a tremendous labour at the same time, pulling it all off with a wolffish smile on his face. The other band members had their own charm too, but your preference was undeniable.

They played the songs that you had been previously listening to, and the fact that they're being played live just amplifies the feeling of intimacy regarding the lyricism and musicality. Songs that talk about life's hardships, love, heartbreak and carnal desires. They all just hit different.

Towards the end of the concert, Ary started feeling dizzy, the amount of people and sudden dehydration giving her signs of a posible migraine. She tried not to say anything for the sake of your fun, realizing just how much you're enjoying yourself tonight. But at the end she truly couldn't, deciding to tell Tommy she needed to step back for awhile and go get some fresh air.

"I should go with her," you said in concern. His boyfriend shook his head and patted your shoulder.

"I'll go. You can stay if you want to, just call me if something feels off and I'll be back in a sec," he said reassuringly.

It took a few seconds to agree, although you eventually did. The event was almost over anyways. "Tell me if anything happens."

"F'course."

You watch as he leaves behind her with a certain remorse in your gut. The Clashers play three more songs afterwards, turning out to be much more emotional and heartfelt than you could've expected.

One by one, every single band member thanked the audience before the lights went out completely and the crowd stopped their clapping and cheering.

In order to avoid getting stuck at the exit from the people storming out, you decided to stay back and wait. You intended to reach your friend via message, sending a short "everything alright?" that did not deliver due to the awful signal. Only then did you start to grow nervous and more worrisome.

"Excuse me," out of nowhere, one of the security guards called for you when no one else was around –aside from the scattered people that had the same idea as you did–; a tall man with a 'staff' pin on his shirt. He asked for your name, but something about the way he worded the question made you believe he already knew it. "You've got a backstage invitation."

"A backstage invitation?" You tried holding back laughter. "From whom?” your eyes narrowed at a new clue. “Wait... Did Tommy meet up with Joel?"

The staff member furrowed his brows in surprise, "You came here with Miller's brother?"

"Huh? Yes... Isn't that why you approached me?" the stranger gave you a kind, slightly embarrassed smile.

"No, but you should come with me. Joel's in fact the one that asked."

"Oh..."

So, it was him after all.

'Someone will point you to the right direction', turned out to be quite literal.

You agreed to follow the guard. Maybe Joel could just reach Tommy and tell him you were fine. Although that'll mean you'd have to explain how you two had met. Well, shit... It’s not like it was a bad thing, right?

✩ ° ｡⋆⸜ 🎧

Backstage dressing rooms tend to be different depending on the facility where an event is held. In this case, there were rooms with the artist's names hanged on them and a handful of people moving around, spitting orders and following instructions. Everyone was so involved in their own affairs that no one really seemed to notice you, specially standing next to the security guy, who knocked twice on the guitarist's door.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, that post-concert glow brightening up his features. His cocky smirk told you just how certain he was that you'd end up here eventually and how glad he was for it. You gave a quick nod to the man that guided you here and he disappeared just as quick as he came.

"Hey there, groupie."

"Joel." Your lips unconsciously curved, too. "I believe I owe you something." His hair was ruffled and the sunglasses rested atop his head, looking better up-close than he did on stage.

"Wanna come in?" the question sounded so genuine and innocent, it almost made you believe there wasn't a meaning behind it... Yet, you knew; you were both aware.

"Sure, but-" there was something you had to tell him... God, he smelled good— what was it you had to tell him? "Won't they scold you for having me here?"

His dressing room was fairly spacious, with a small leather couch, a coat stand with a couple of jackets and shirts hanging. His guitar rested on the corner, tucked inside its case; facing the couch was some kind of vanity where celebrities could get their makeup done, the lights around the mirror reflected a warm light.

"Don't think so, darlin'. I'm way too old for a scolding," he joked, closing the door behind you.

The very moment you were left alone, away from any prying eyes, the air shifted entirely; as if this whole space was your own private setting. That same feeling you experienced outside the store somehow crawled under your skin once more, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a crushing expectation.

"Did you enjoy the show?" you nod distractedly.

"I did. But I ain't gonna lie, it was a total shocker to find out that the hot guy I'd just met was actually a part of the group." Joel's eyes gleamed with an unfamiliar simplicity that invited you in and provided a certain comfort.

"I wish I could've seen your face," he retorted, his voice smooth and low.

"Why?" you bicker, "So I could further boost your ego? No, thanks."

He chuckles softly, his eyes squinting to reveal the tiny wrinkles that form around them; a sign that he's always been the type to laugh without remorse. Those are the small details that make him even more attractive in your perspective.

You lean against the makeup board, giving your back to the mirror and crossing both arms over your chest. The heel of your boots had started to feel uncomfortable, so you placed one leg across the other to shift some of the weight whilst his gaze followed your every move intently; the unfathomable depth of his eyes stirred something inside you, an urge to unleash your impurest thoughts.

"You've got quite an attitude, don't ya', groupie?" the man questions with humor. "But I'm pretty sure you just called me hot, so, either way, my ego was boosted," he pointed out smugly.

"Joel," you click your tongue, subtly shaking your head. "I bet there's tons of women saying that about you, and there's no doubt in my mind that you’re aware of it already."

That could not be denied. Throughout his life, Joel had always been aware of his charm and good looks, which eventually brought him popularity amongst the group. After having Sarah, he saw himself forced to tone down the amount of affairs and adventures he'd have, specially as a single father, always trying not to get his daughter's hopes high if she saw him with someone.

Honestly, despite him being back on track with the 'celebrity' lifestyle, he still wasn't planing on keeping up with his old tricks of bringing women backstage and giving them something to gush about with her friends. He really hadn't gotten involved with anyone during the tour until now... And it wasn't something he'd intended to do either. Everything happened so spontaneously, the way you two sort of bonded and just met out of the blue. Joel's goal wasn't any of this at first, he merely thought of how gorgeous you were and how comfortable he felt in your presence.

However, logic and good sense abandoned him the minute your eyes gaped at him; dark and alluring, with a spark in them that he could not escape, an intriguing verve that entranced him and crept under his skin. From that moment forward, he could only think about you while being on stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of your skin amongst the crowd but having to settle with the fresh image of you on his mind: your confident mannerisms, your striking smile and how good your legs looked in that mini-skirt. He tried to put on his best performance just to impress you.

"Yet, your perception of me is the only one I currently care about," he declares, taking a few decided steps towards you.

You beam, keeping your head held high, "I gotta give it to you, Joel. The hat thing, your whole performance... Very clever."

He's taken aback by your words, surprise written all over his face. "What d'you mean?"

"Come on, Joel," you reply with a roughish grin. "You really thought I wouldn't hear all about your schemes? Oh, here I believed I was special," you joke.

The man gets rid of that 'respectful' distance that kept you apart, slowly making his way to you, exuding that perpetual arrogance he naturally carried and never breaking eye contact. You returned the same energy; piercing his soul with those siren eyes, barely tilting your head back to expose your throat and unhooking your arms to give him a better sight of your breasts. Intentional or not, those little details were driving him insane.

"You are special, sweetheart," he murmurs, emphasizing the second word. "All of my girls are."

He was quite close now, his scent dazing your senses and the warmth of his body, plus that southern drawl of his, formed goosebumps on your skin. With boosted confidence, you reach out to softly grab the lapels of his jacket. You wait for him to push you away, scold you or react negatively... though he never does. Instead, his eyes fall from yours to your lips, licking his own distractedly. You motion to remove the shades form his head and place his hat back on, adjusting it lightly. In the meantime, you take your time to run your fingers through his hair, drag them along his jaw, feel the raspy sensation of his beard scratching your fingertips.

"S'that so?" you whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. "You know what I want...?" His eyelids shudder, a muscle twitching on his neck as you lean to pour the next words into the shell of his ear. "I just wanna be one of your girls, Joel Miller..."

Those words have an immediate effect on him, his eyes darkening with blown away pupils. Your hand lowers to his chest, conscious of the strength with which his heart was beating, the heat of his feverish skin there where you touched him. His palms land on your hips, caressing the covered skin as they make their way to your waist.

"We'll see 'bout that, darlin'," he hushes, cupping your face with his right hand to keep you steady, restrain your control over him. His face is barely inches away from yours, practically breathing each other in. "You know what's gonna happen now, don't you?"

You gulp in suspense, eyes glued to his lips, waiting, wishing he'd just kiss you. "Yes..."

"Good," Joel's thumb swipes across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. "Is this what you want?"

You can barely muster up the courage to speak, nearly falling from the tension. "Please..."

"Mmm..." his nose rubs against yours and your eyes close instinctively. "That's not an answer, sweetheart."

Your hands fist on his shirt, desperate to touch him. "Yes, Joel."

"That's my girl," he praises, effectively creating a pool of arousal that smothers your underwear. But you've barely got any time to process it before his lips are finally on yours.

The kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, his plump lips molding against yours. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck, your nails scratching his skin deliciously. Everything feels hot all of the sudden, the need to get rid of your jacket latent on the edges of your body. Joel holds your waist and quickly sits you fully on top of the board, making you squeal from the abruptness of the action; this way he can settle himself between your legs and flush his chest to yours. His lips never part from yours, swallowing down any noise that escaped your mouth.

The coarse fabric of his jeans feels rough against your exposed skin, his hands coming to grab the back of your thighs, sliding them beneath the hem of your skirt as you wrap your legs around his waist. The kiss is breathy and intense, you taste him when your tongue drags inside –a mix of mint and cigarettes–, your teeth crashing when he tries to assert his dominance by pulling your body closer to his. Your perfume, sweet and floral, lingers around him in a way that makes him want you even more. When he slowly licks your lower lip, you moan faintly and the sound makes him throb.

His fingers splay on your asscheeks, prodding you to feel the weight of his hardening cock against your inner thigh, consequently setting a fire in your lower belly. You catch his grunt in the kiss, the feeling of his mustache tingling on your skin whilst you grind your hips just to experience that friction once again, relishing in the familiar sensation of your arousal spilling into your panties, wet and warm. And fuck, part of you doesn't believe that this man is hard for you. Joel suddenly backs away, just enough to stare blankly into your eyes, casted with desire, and regain a bit of composure.

"Not a word about this, 'aight?" something you had figured he'd state sooner or later.

"Yes, sir. It'll be our dirty little secret," you grin right as he whispers a goddamnit.

Before he pulls you in for another heated kiss, you struggle to take your jacket off, taking your phone out of the pocket and hastily throwing it to the floor as he mimics your action. Joel uses this moment to fully take in the sight of you; the way your tits sit perfectly in that top, chest rising and falling from drawing ragged breaths, your exposed neck and shoulders, flushed skin ideal for him to nip at and trace with his lips. So he does just that.

He ghosts your mouth, towering over you but ignoring the need to reattach your lips to his. Alternately, he gently kisses your chin, making his way down your throat and between your collarbones. You're a panting mess under his touch, trying to keep yourself collected for the sake of not getting caught, yet failing when his teeth sank onto the pillowy flesh of your breast. You audibly gasp, holding onto his arm for dear life; though he simply huffs a laugh that vibrates through you.

"Don't worry, darlin'. In here, you can be as loud as you want to," he assures.

Joel descends to his knees in front of you and the image is far too erotic for you to hold back a whimper. He coaxes your knees farther apart, your denim skirt hunched up around your hips so he can peek at the red lace of your underwear. He grabs your calf and places a kiss to the side of your knee, looking up at you hungrily.

"Should we take this off?" he taps on your boot, calloused fingers tracing random patterns on your leg.

"Let's keep them on," you say, your hand stroking his cheekbone. "I want to wear them when I come on your cock."

His eyes glint with lust, "Fuck..." he rumbles, almost pained. "Who would've thought a pretty girl like you would have such a filthy tongue."

You can't help but smirk as his lips roam upwards, "You think I'm pretty?"

His gaze scorches with intensity, both his hands languidly sliding up your sides till his fingers hook on the edge of your panties, pulling them down your legs to take them off, "I think you're beautiful," he murmurs amidst. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears at the time he leans into the apex of your thighs, one of his brows quirking up at the sight of glistening slick sticking to your swollen skin.

"Poor thing," he coos, taking off the hat like a cowboy who's worked his whole shift and comes home to eat the best dinner he's ever had, placing it beside you. "You're so sensitive, baby..." you inhale sharply when he lays a teasing kiss on your inner thigh. "Been a while?"

You nod, though even if it has been a while since the last time you slept with someone, you're certain that most of your responsiveness falls onto Joel's doing. He tsked, shaking his head in the meantime and using his thumb to barely spread your folds. Your eyes look at him beneath heavy lids, lips parted as his mouth explores the area, his breathing tickling the sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, sweetheart."

Without warning, his tongue darts out to lick the slick around your entrance, ravishing on the sweet taste of your juices. Your fingers thread through his curls, swallowing hard at the new sensation. He takes his time with you, leisurely allowing your wetness to gather on his tongue, his nose nudging at your clit when he moves his head a certain way. It all makes your brain spin, overcome by the pleasure you're experiencing, actually permitting you to loose your cords and spill uninhibited whimpers that only egged him on.

"Shit, you're doing great..." you can feel his smile against your dripping core.

"You just taste amazing, darlin'," he's not lying. Joel's enjoying himself far too much as he buries his tongue between your folds, holding you tighter. "So fucking good..."

The back of your mind registers the brief pain of his fingertips digging in your flesh, thinking it may bruise in the morning. The other part can't even form a rational thought. You moan his name, calling out for something to ground you; but he's just as gone, if not way worse. Joel is bewitched by the headiness of you, clogging his senses entirely. It's been so long since he gave head, but he doesn't remember it like this— like he couldn't get enough, so eager to make you feel good, to hear those pretty sounds spill from your mouth.

"Oh my god..." you mewl when his lips close around your puffy clit, gently flicking his tongue over it whilst you run your hands through his locks.

He flattens his tongue against the bundle of nerves, tracing delicate circles that make your whole body shudder. You're messily dripping all the way down to the wooden surface as he selfishly alternates his attention between your aching bud and your hole.

"Look at you, honey," he mumbles, voice laced with desire. "Doin' so good for me."

His fingers swipe across your slit, making you squirm. "Joel, please-"

"I know, baby, I know..."

Though when he's about to dive in again, you catch the light of your phone through your peripheral vision: an incoming call. The ID read the name 'Tommy <3'.

Tommy???!!!!

"Shitshitshit," you quickly reach for the device, swiping the green button and muttering a wary wait to the man before you. Joel simply gawks at you with intrigue, the pads of his fingers still roaming around your core. "Hello?"

On the other side of the line, Tommy says your name with utter relief, "Thank god. I left you a thousand messages. Are you okay?"

More than okay. Your brother's tongue was inside my cunt just a few seconds ago, actually.

Obviously you can't say that.

"Uh... Yeah, everything's fine." You clear your throat, trying to mask the gasp that threatened to escape when Joel started rubbing tender circles on your clit. "The signal's just really bad."

"Yes, I noticed," he mutters, a bit frustrated. "Should I go get you? There's still plenty of people at the entrance and I don't want you to get lost."

"No- no..." you have to bite your bottom lip in order to muffle the unholy moan you were about to slip out. The bastard had just sinked one finger inside you experimentally, watching your face contort in pleasure as he reached for that particular spot. "I- have... Is Ary alright?"

"She took a pill and is knocked out in the backseats of my car right now," you can practically hear his smile as he speaks. "But... Are you sure you're okay? You sound... Agitated."

That was a way of putting it.

Joel is a greedy, jealous man. He wants all your undivided attention and will make sure to let you know. He decides to add a second finger, watching your eyes screw shut and your mouth gape as he curls them, your slick covering all the way to his knuckles.

"Yes, I met with a friend-" you tug at his hair hard enough to make him groan, his cock twitching with interest. "She's taking me home."

Your thighs start quivering and your body feels hot all over, an abrasive feeling of bliss rushing through every single nerve ending. You're close, and judging by the way you clench around his fingers, he knows too.

"Oh... Well, in that case just let me know once you get home. Please?" You think you answer, but you're not entirely sure. The call ends and your phone slips from your hand.

"Joel, I can't..." you whine when his lips latch to your nub once again, his fingers still working you open.

"Yes you can," he vows. You clutch at his curls with enough strength to work him up. "You're a big girl, you can take it."

And it's right then, when he repeatedly hits your g-spot, licking and sucking at your delicate clit, that your hips get a mind of their own, barely kept in place by Joel's strong grip on your hip. The coil finally snaps. You're not sure what you say, what words fall from your mouth... But they do dawdle on his mind. You shake from the magnitude of your orgasm, muscles starting to relax as Joel licks up every drop of your release, absolutely lost in the sweet taste of you. Your grasp on his hair loosened as he rose to his feet, letting you catch your breath.

He's on edge, his voice a hoarse rumble when he spoke. "Didn't anyone tell you," his left hand came up to brush his fingertips over your lips, "how rude it is to answer phone calls when this pretty pussy of yours is getting eaten?”

You lick your lips nervously. "I'm sorry..." he hums in response, "I'll make it up to you."

There's no time for him to reply since you crash your lips to his once again, frenetically searching to feel his weight pressed on top of you for a second time. This kiss is messy, rushed and needy. You can taste yourself in it as he pushes his tongue past your teeth.

Amidst the fuss, your hand snakes between your bodies to tug at his belt, fumbling to pop his pants open. Once you do, you can feel how warm and heavy his cock is, rock hard beneath your touch. He hisses at the flick of your wrist, moving up and down his length over the thin fabric of his boxers. Joel rests his forehead against yours to even his breaths, his chest heaving with a lustful sigh.

"Fuck," he grumbles, swiftly manhandling you so you're facing the mirror. His hand holds your face for you to stare back at your own reflection. "Aren't you a sight to behold?"

And you're certain that for a man like him, those words couldn't be truer. Sweat beads around your neck and sticks a couple hairs to your temples, eyes teary in the corners and lipstick smeared from the make out. Here and there your skin displays signs of his presence, part of you wishing they'd stay there till the next morning. If there was an accurate way to describe how you looked, that'll be wrecked.

"You should see yourself, Miller," you smirk, gesturing in his direction. His eyes reflected a prurient nature that added to his sex appeal, hair messy from your doing and an eager expression that gave him a downright pornographic aura. "Not bad for an old man."

His lips caress the back of your ear, hands driving the denim skirt farther up your hips. You cling to the edge of the work desk, making an effort to stand up in your weak knees, chills running down your spine when he gently nibbles at your earlobe.

"So much for not wanting to boost my ego, huh, sweetheart?" his gruff voice is both soothing and stirring, making all the blood rush straight to your pussy.

He parts your legs, spreading them with his knee and forcing you to bend forward a little. Your head turns to peek behind your shoulder, his every move being closely monitored by you, eyes widening when you finally fathom the sheer size of his cock. Your lower body pulsates with anticipation, another wave of arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs.

"Holy fuck-" you ramble as you watch him expertly roll a condom on his length. He's long and visibly thick, a prominent vein running from base to tip; your mouth waters just from the idea of wrapping your lips around it. "Shit..."

"Don't be getting all shy now, honey. Tis' what you wanted, then you're getting it," he rasps, lining himself between your legs.

"M'not shy," you retort, staring back at him through the mirror. "Was just thinking about how badly I wanted to blow you."

Joel stifles a groan, his hands snaking to your front to pull down the top and expose your tits. There was no need to wear a bra with a bustier, which you were glad for, cause it made it easier for him to pinch the peaked buds of your nipples. The head of his cock glides across your folds, coating it with the slick that keeps dribbling each time he bumps against your clit or makes you watch as he gropes your breasts.

"You talk like a slut." Your cheeks soared red and your pussy fluttered at the name-calling. The heat of his body on yours was simply intoxicating, making it difficult for you to think. "Is that how you want me to fuck you?" he whispers in your ear, nudging his cock at your entrance but not quite going in yet. "Nice and hard until I make an absolute mess out of you? Mmm?"

You nod, "Yes, god- yes. Please, Joel..."

He takes that plea as his cue to press himself inside you, slow and steady, allowing your body to adjust to the intromission. Your mouth falls ajar, nails scratching the wood under your fingers, vaguely squirming at the sharp sting of the stretch.

"That's it, takin' my cock so well," words of encouragement fall hoarsely form his lips like a chant and your body willingly melts into his. "See? I knew you could take it."

His thighs plunge to yours when he bottoms out at last, letting out a few pants and groans, his fingers pushing stray hairs out of your face. You can feel him jerk inside you, your walls enveloping his girth tightly, a wave of pleasure licking his spine at the feeling. He doesn't waste any more time, finding a pace of his liking as soon as he started moving and being relentless with it. The way his neck chain hits your shoulder blades with each thrust, the scrub of his beard when he kisses your temple and the dirty praises that he murmurs in your ear, somehow make the situation grounding; like it's really happening and you're not dreaming about it.

As Joel cradles you in his arms, your hand skirts to his nape in order to bring him in for a kiss. Each roll of his hips is calculated, deep and unswerving, knowing exactly how and where you liked it, studying your reactions. When he kisses you, he does so earnestly, almost affectionate in contrast to the rhythm in which his dick drags inside you– but it's short, the need for oxygen overpowering both. At this point, not even your stilted whimpers and his soft moans can mask the lewd sound of your squelching pussy or the sporadic noise of skin slapping against skin.

"Good fuckin' slut," he locks your jaw in place, pushing you to keep eye contact with your own reflection. "Sneakin' behind your friend's back to get fucked by a stranger –shit– an 'old man', nonetheless..."

Your stomach tenses each time the head of his cock grazes that sensitive spot within you, legs shaking at the way he speaks to you. Through the mirror, you see the way his thumb digs into your cheek, his hand cupping your breast as he twists your nipple in his fingers and the worst of all: that haughty fucking smile that suited him perhaps too damn well.

"I always did like them older," you utter, out of breath.

He chuckles darkly, heftily, letting his hand coast down your abdomen and reach your clit to tease it while he takes you from behind. The feeling was so intense that all you could do was claw at his bicep and let a hushed whine slip past your lips, knowing that a second orgasm was approaching faster than you had expected.

"Fuck, Joel- It feels so good..." your moans are like music to his ears, a syrupy melody that he wants to maintain on replay.

The way your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his length with every push, has his head fuzzy with sheer pleasure. And god- you look beautiful coming undone for him. No; because of him. He sees you looking at him through the reflection, pupils dark with an obscure desire, feels your cunt soak him every time he tells you how good you are, with each sound he makes just for you.

"I'm so close-" you warn, white sparks blurring your vision at the building of your crescendo.

"C'mon, come for me," he purrs, skillfully teasing your nub. "Wanna feel it— oh fuck, wanna feel you live up to your promise..."

Joel fucking whimpers, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck as he pulls your hips to meet his pace. The sound is so enticing that it throws you off, wanting to engrave it in your mind. Your thighs waver and your back arches, an overwhelming sense of euphoria partaking your body. "I've got you, let me hear you," he fucks you through it, slowing down but never losing precision. "Right there, you did so good..."

In your state of frenzy, you feel his cock throbbing inside you, his grip on your body tightening: the classic telltale of his own climax looming. Through it all, with your heart thumping so loud that it's almost deafening, you blurt out a dulcet: "Come in my mouth..."

God help him.

He nearly loses it right then and there.

"As you wish," he sighed, his deep voice raspy with passion.   

But he's an indulgent man, so he musters up the strength to pull out and snatch the condom away, throwing it to the trash can. You fall to your knees with no hesitation, arms stretching to reach the outline of his hips. Joel guides the ruddy head of his cock to your lips, spreading precome all over them before you fully take him in your mouth. You suck him earnestly, focusing on the tip and tracing the vein on the underside of his dick. He's so worked up that it doesn't take him long to start panting; head thrown back and hand grabbing firmly the back of your neck.

Your gaze stick to his, knowing perfectly the power of looking into his eyes. You love the taste of him, musky and strong; all man. All you can think of right at this moment is how you want more, so much more of him.

"Perfect," he slurs through gritted teeth. "Perfect girl."

You can't contain the hum that reverberates through him, pushing him over the edge whilst you massage his balls. A deep, guttural groan claws its way from his throat, hips stuttering and thighs trembling as he comes in thick, hot spurts down your throat. You swallow instantly, not thinking much about it and stroking his shaft unhurriedly until he's whimpering from overstimulation; though he doesn't tell you to stop or pushes you away, letting you work him up to the time of your choice. Once you're content, you straighten your posture and rearrange your top, roughly registering when he tucks himself back in his pants.

"You okay?" he asks, helping you get on your feet. His thumb swipes around your lips and chin to clean the smeared lipstick, a sweet concern dithering in his eyes.

“Feelin’ great,” you say with genuine joy, pulling your skirt downwards and grabbing your panties from the floor, laying next to your jacket and his guitar. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he lends you a hand in putting your jacket back on. “It’s been a while since I’ve… Uh, well, you get it.”

You turn to face him, beaming radiantly. Gosh, you’re stunning. He’s certain he won’t forget those mesmerizing eyes of yours.

“Joel, let’s be honest with each other…” your hands shot up to caress his cheek and thread at his curls. You don’t believe him one bit. “We’ll meet again. You know we will.”

You didn’t really mean it, merely wanting to make an impression. But there was a minuscule possibility that your paths would cross for a second time; after all, you did know his brother. Though you never mentioned that. Deep down, you were scared that he wouldn’t want to make a move if he knew of that connection— specially after seeing Tommy’s reaction when he saw that hat on your head.

“Hope that’s true, groupie.”

Joel insists on calling his chauffeur to take you home, arguing that it was past midnight and it was dangerous to take a cab. Eventually, you let him, making a quick stop to the bathroom to set things right with your appearance. He waits for you patiently, the cowboy hat presented to you as a gift when you walked out.

“Keep it,” he sways, “as a little souvenir for if we don’t end up meeting again. Besides, it suits you better.”

“Won’t you have another pretty girl to gift it to?” he rolls his eyes at your inquiry.

“I can always buy more,” he laughs. “I want you to remember I sent you home sore and aching each time you look at it.”

You giggle, getting on your tippy toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Miller. I’ll be thinking ‘bout it… About you. That’s a promise.”

And he truly hopes you mean it.

[justtryingtobecreative]

Neteyam x Human reader

Chapter 5.1

(Tw: Mentions of Smut.. next part will go 100%)

(Okay everyone here is half 1 of chapter 5! Monday the second part will drop! Let me know if you like it! Chapter 1 at the bottom!)

"Can someone murder me now?" You squeek,

Neteyam is fuming, his arm spread out to cover you. He turns his head toward you, before turning to the rest. "No Y/n no one can 'murder' you, and you four better sit down right fucking now." He growls at the young Na'vi's in front of him.

They seem more distraught than you at the moment and do as he asks instantly. Them settling down on the floor, just a little bit shorter than you as they sat down.... which was honestly quite insulting given the situation.

"We are so sorry!" Tsireya starts, the sweet nineteen year old obviously feeling the most guilty. "We just followed you when we saw you act so strange at the party!"

Neteyam holds up his hand signaling for her to stop talking, "Let's start here. Exactly how much have you all seen?" He asks bluntly, his face not betraying his emotions at all.

Aonung speaks up next, obviously pretending to be unaffected at the situation... but a noticable awkwardness in his voice. "We saw everything, and i must say it was quite suprising...what we saw."

You let out a mortified screech/groan, placing your head in your hands as you crouch down. The Na'vi giving you strange looks at the sound, not having heard it from you before.

Neteyam places a comforting hand on your head, you gathering yourself as you get back up. Your face still bright red, and your stance very awkward.

Lo'ak and Kiri seemed uncharistically quiet, which is probably to be expected when you see your elder Na'vi brother straight up demolishing your human childhood friend with his..

"Allright..well you obviously saw us.. uhm...have sex." Your big blue guy says, suddenly not meeting anyones gaze.

"That's what that was? It seemed more like an assasination attempt... i mean seriously." Aonung turned to you with an astonished gaze. "How are you even alive?"

They all turn to you, you electing to simply stare at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in existence, totally ignoring the Na'vi that were staring at you... honestly when you think about it it is quite impressive people are able to make these straw walls by hand.

Neteyam steps in front of you, hissing harshly at Aonung. "It is in your best interest to shut your mouth." He stands up straight, just taller than the other boy.

I mean, so intricate, so beautifull, this hut is so well crafted.

"If you wanted 'that' you should have gone somewhere private." Aonung remarks, still taking a step backwards when your big blue guy takes a step toward him.

"We did go somewhere private! You four just followed us like some little creeps!" Neteyam seemed very very angry.

You notice as your mate gets a bit too riled up, obviously winding himself up to take a swing as he starts clenching his fist. You swiftly lean forward to tap him on the hip, his attention turning to you instantly.

You shake your head.

Neteyam locked his intense gaze on yours, "I want to touch Y/n every second of every day, she is my mate." He remarks dryly, as he takes a step backwards, grabbing your hand.

A second of awkward silence. You want to die.. like seriously.

"How long has this been going on?" Kiri speaks up loudly from behind the others, seeming uncomfortable but also strangely intrigued.

Neteyam stares at his little sister with wide eyes, he obviously hadn't taken into account that some of his siblings were here as well. Not to mention the tall lanky form of Lo'ak still standing frozen to the side.

Kiri's question visibly registers in Neteyam as he suddenly smiles softly.

A proud look appears on your big blue guy's face. "About three weeks... but i have been in love with her for years." He responded, a faraway look on his face. "And now we are finally together."

You give his hand a squeeze as you share a smile.

Kiri relaxes at his words, smiling softly. "You realised you loved her when she got hit in the head at the sea battle." She says more than asks, her gaze settling on your conjoined hands as a small smile circles her lips.

You smile, "I...think we have always loved eachother."

Neteyam settles his oversized hand on your back, "Y/n and I are not ready to share our relationship with Mom, dad or the others." He gives his sister a meaningfull look "We are not sure if we are able to remain in the clan if they find out."

Lo'ak seems to startle awake at his brothers words, "What the fuck? You can't possibly be thinking of leaving!" He pushes past the other kids, slapping his hands on his thighs in anger.

You both knew that the young Na'vi had started to heavily lean on Neteyam after the war, mostly because the boy felt responsible that you had both been on that boat.

Neteyam steps forward placing a hand in his brothers hair, "I don't think we have a choice bro, if Mom and dad want to force us apart.." he shakes his head in distress, "I won't leave y/n... I can't." He let out a heavy sigh, a troubled expression slipping onto his face.

Lo'ak shakes his head in disbelief, "After those fucking poachers almost killed you two... i..." he let's out a sigh, him relaxing a bit as Tsireya places a hand on his shoulder. "I can't let you be bullied away by mom and dad. The clan needs you!" He frowns, a blush appearing on his cheeks when Tsireya gives him an encouraging smile.

Neteyam leans over to place a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "If we have to leave, i will be heartbroken.. but not worried about the clan.. you would be a good future leader bro."

Lo'ak looks up at his brother with conflicted eyes, "I would rather you be here bro." He finally mutters softly.

"Guys.. we have all been away from the party too long." We should probably head back.." Kiri interupts as she walks forward placing a soft hand on Lo'ak's shoulder as she speaks to the rest.

"You're probably right.." Tsireya mumbles as she steers her brother and Lo'ak away.

Neteyam looks back at you with a soft look in his eyes, softly grabbing your hand.

Kiri looks at the movement with keen eyes, she shakes her head smiling. "You are whiiipped" she says in a singsong voice.

Neteyam just shrugs his shoulders, not even bothering to deny her words.

"Now come on brother.. it's my turn to dance with Y/n." Kiri grabs my hand from his, dragging me away.

"Whoah! We can't go out like this." You gesture toward the bruises and paint remains on your and Neteyam's skin.

Kiri rolls her eyes. "Aw come on guys! It's dark in there! No way anyone will see." She doesn't give you a second to breathe before she drags you away again.

Neteyam looks a bit put off, shaking his head. "Come on Kiri! This is irresponsible!"

Kiri shakes her head, turning toward her brother again. "Come on! Have some fun brother!"

"Jeez you guys are silly.." He murmurs finally, a smile circling his lips as he looks at his mate and his sister happily conversing.

We reach the party quickly, Neteyam going over to his friends to socialise when Kiri basically chases him away from you.

The moment Kiri sees he's out of earshot she walks me to the side of the dancefloor. "Y/n... i just saw you do it with my very very big Na'vi brother... Why in the world didn't i know about this?."

"Honestly... did you really want to know me and your brother have had tons of very kinky sex."

"Ew what? No!" Kiri sticks out her tongue in disgust.

I give her a dry look, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay fine.. that's fair... how did this even start?" Kiri seems way too interested in this..

"Well it was at that party a while back... you know when he got back from that fight?"

Kiri's eyes widened.. "No."

I nod sadly, "Yes."

"You had a weird sex fight with my brother?!" Kiri yelled loudly...

I jump up and place my hand onto her mouth.. "Shut up!" I grunt softly, thankfull no one had heard.

"Okay okay i'm sorry... but he was literally covered with red spots and fingerprints.." Kiri says sheepishly.

"Uhm... well.. i grabbed onto him quite tight when.... Nope not talking about this."

Kiri's eyes widen "No but now i wanna know! You two were so wild! I thought it was supposed to be soft and sweet when people mate! You have to tell me how it works!"

"Dude come on! I can't possibly tell you all the details.."

She gives me a look.

~~~

You folded and told her the basics..

We were currently sitting beneath a table in the far back of the temple. Effectively hidden out of view.

"Wow! Wait... so you put it in... and move? And that feels good?"

"Well.. i'm honestly not sure how it feels for you Na'vi.. but Neteyam really likes the way we do it.. and that is the human way so i think so?"

Kiri seemed intrigued, a bit disgusted, and was probably about to ask more questions anyway.

"Can we talk about anything else?" You ask curtly...

Kiri sighs, obviously not satisfied at your cut off conversation. "Allright fine! How about what happened with Spider?" She frowns.

Your heart skips a beat at her words.

"You know about that?" You say softly, knowing the girl was close with him.

She nods sadly, "He told me about it.."

"It's not his fault.." you mutter softly unable to meet the girls eyes.

"I think it was... but i think he knows that too." Kiri sighs shaking her head.

I place a soft hand on her shoulder.

"I.. i just.. i like spider!" Kiri blurts out, me choking in my saliva. You look at the now upset girl, the dark in the temple hiding most of her features.

I take a second to open up to the idea before finally responding.

"That's allright Kiri.. you can like whomever you want." Your thoughts secretly run wild at her revelation.. how would sex between them work? You shake your head, if they really like eachother they will figure it out. Just like you and Neteyam had.

But still.. how in the...

"Really?... Your not mad?" Kiri asks softly giving me a worried look.

"Huh why would i be mad at that?"

"Well... he hurt you? And i thought the two of you wanted to be together.

"Kiri. I have mated with Neteyam.. i have forgiven spider... If you want to be with him and he makes you happy. Then i want you to follow your heart." You give her a comforting smile.

Kiri smiles softly grabbing your small hand in her big one. "Thank you.. i think i needed to hear that." She blushes softly.

We give eachother a tight hug before getting out from under the table. Her going to find spider.

~~~

You look around the temple in search of your big blue guy. Huh... where was he? You get a strange feeling in your stomach, a bit unsettled that you can't find him.

As the sky gets darker and darker you get increasingly worried... Neteyam wasn't at the party anymore that was certain. And the other Sully weren't either.

He wouldn't have left without telling you..

You decide to take the long way home, taking a stroll through the Na'vi camp first. "Shit.." i murmur to myself as i hear yelling coming from the Sully tent.

You sneak up using a hunting technique Neteyam thought you. Peering through the straw walls you are suprised to see all the 'kids' sitting on the floor of the tent, Jake and Neytiri standing over them.

You strain to hear what they are saying,

"I cannot believe how irresponsibly you have behaved today Neteyam.." Jake shakes his head in dissapointment, his hands on his hips as he glares down at his oldest son.

Neteyam just glares down at the ground, his large shape looking silly as he sits on the floor. Your big blue guy is not backing down an inch though, his face seemingly set in stone.

"Neteyam.. what were you thinking?" Neytiri says sternly, crossing her arms. Her face pulled into a frown, "You have embarrassed your father tonight." She hisses, Jake placing a calming hand on her shoulder.

Neteyam remains silent, you noticing his fists clench and his jaw tick.. he was mad.. very mad.

Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk look at their brother with wide eyes, this behaviour still a bit new for them.

"Neteyam! You are an adult now, act like it!" Jake shouts loudly, his voice echoeing through the small hut causing the other kids to flinch. "You cannot just come back home looking like you just fought a damn bear whenever you feel like it!"

Neteyam doesn't move and doesn't do anything really...

"You cannot expect to find a proper mate if you act like this." Neytiri hisses again, slapping her son on the shoulder. Neteyam closes his eyes, taking a few heavy breaths.

"Neteyam stand up, others out." Jake growls out as he gestures for the others to leave.. they do.. the kids rushing outside on the other side of the tent.

Your big blue guy does as instructed standing straight in front of his parents. He was now slightly taller than his father, him now hovering over them both.

"You are going to be the next olo'eyktan soon.. how do you expect to step into my footsteps if you do things like this?" Jake paces left to right in front of the younger Na'vi.

"Neteyam.. please listen to your father, it is a great honor to become our clan leader. It is more important than anything or anyone except this family." Neytiri strokes her son's arm softly, them two closer than him and his father. Her oldest son pulls away from her this time,

"I allready have a family.. one of my own. And i don't care about being olo'eyktan.. i never have." Neteyam glares at them.

"You have worked so hard my son, you are a great warrior now.. why do you not want this?" Neytiri seems confused by her sons words.

"I haven't become the warrior i am today for you or for the clan.. i have become a warrior to protect..."

"That is what a commander should do Neteyam!" Jake shouts again. "You were doing so well at becoming the perfect leader! The perfect soldier! What could you possibly have as rea.." He is interupted as his son speaks up again.

"Dad. I don't care about any of that!" Neteyam groans in frustration, he loses his composure at once starting to pace left to right.

"Why? Because all you care about is that stupid human?" Neytiri interupts.

My heart drops at her words..

Neteyam's reaction is instant as he turns to her with cold eyes. "You do not speak about her that way. You don't have the right." He shakes his head, sending a withering glare to his brother.

"I'm leaving." He grunts, stepping out of the tent.

"Neteyam! I have not dismissed you yet soldier." Jake yells loudly, his face confused and distraught again.

Neteyam steps outside, his gaze instantly landing on me. His eyes soften as they meet yours.. water starts to fall from the sky sticking his dark hair to his face.

Your big blue guy strolls over to you instantly placing his hands on your waist, his emotions clear on his face.. he whistles for his Ikran. "I am so glad to see you." He whispers into your hair, tears falling from his eyes.

"Are you allright my love?" I ask softly, giving him a small smile.

"Let's go home.." He just murmurs leading you to the Ikran, you noticing his proud gaze as it settles on yours.

"Home?" You just ask confusedly.. him smiling as he pulls you close to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah.. home.." Neteyam places you on the Ikran, the glowing plants lighting his now wet skin. It was magical.. the whole forest dark.

All of a sudden out from the darkness a little creature comes down from the tree's, its little white legs feeling strange as they tickle against your bare skin.. Neteyam's eyes widen...

The tree's above light up with purple light.. more of the little beings appearing as they float around you and your mate. You smile at him, pulling his face toward yours in a sweet kiss. You about the same height as him as you sit on the Ikran and he stands next to you.

His soft hand strokes your waist with tenderness. "I see you." He whispers, his braids tickling your shoulder as he takes a seat on the Ikran behind you his arm sliding around your body to keep you safe.

"I see you.." i whisper back. I feel him smile against the back of my bare shoulder as he bends down to place a kiss on it.

He makes a loud yip, the Ikran following his command as it sets off into the sky..

Something tells you to look back at the Sully's hut.. your gaze catches the form of Neytiri stand where you had just done.. reaching up to softly touch one of those little creatures before you dissappear out of view.

~~~

We reach the human base quickly, my mind still quite occupied by the strangeness that was today. Neteyam silent ass well and no doubt

Neteyam grasps your hand softly pulling you with him as you enter the base together. "I'm sorry but.. i am not hiding us anymore." He mutters softly, seeming scared of a possible reaction.

I nod at him. "I understand.. don't worry about me.. you have enough to worry about." I squeeze his hand

Your big blue guy laughs softly, "I will always worry for you." He admits.

The scientists in the hall look confused as they see us, we ignore them.

"Oh hey Neteyam what are you doing here so late?" Norm asks confusedly.. until his gaze settles on our conjoined hands.

"I am staying the night in y/n's room." Neteyam says dryly placing an arm over my shoulders and pulling me into his chest.

Norm and the other avatars seem confused.. "Wait.. does Jake know about this?" He asks softly.

The young Na'vi just shrugs before pulling you along again.. leaving the confused man in your wake.

"Did you see all thiose marks on then.. it almost seemed like hickeys." You both heard Norm say to one of his helpers.

The two of you finally reach your room, him smiling broadly as he settles his hands on your waist. "I have never felt so amazing... just telling people that you are my mate.. i am so happy."

"I never expected you to be so impulsive Teyam. I can't say that i mind this new version of you.." i smile softly as i stare into his eyes.

I run my eyes down his chest.. noticing the bruises and hickeys again.

"I think we need to shower my love.. although.. if you are still in an adventurous mood.. we could shower in the larger one on the main floor.." I give him a teasing look, stroking my hand down his hard chest.

Lust fills his eyes. "Allright then my love.. maybe today is finally the day that we get caught by someone who doesn't keep their mouth shut.. i can't say i mind the thought of people recognising my claim on you my little mate.

His hands run up your body.

Chapter 1:

(Hope you enjoyed it!)

Chapter 5,2:

[whore-ibly-hot]

what are ur ocs endgame goals??? like with or w/o reader, what are they hoping for. like r we talking white picket fence n a golden retriever or is it like "reader lets me,,, look at them,,,, today :3"

Hmm... good question! Well, let's examine our boys and girls!

The mean girls haven't even really put that much thought into it, but they'd like to drag you along to whatever sorority they join in College.

Fritz wants to marry you, of course and have a minimum of three babies. Johannes would of course just desire to serve his general, and his generals wife. He adores you, and would help to raise the kids as uncle Josie. Fritz goal is just to love his family and keep all of you safe. He wants his sons or daughters as far from the army and war as possible.

Patrick and Ahmed have different goals. Patrick wants to feel in charge of something for once, to own your body. He also craves the softness you provide, so he seeks to keep you as a girlfriend. His pretty little partner on his arm, his own caring, soft pocket pussy, all for him, (and Ahmed when he's feeling generous.). Ahmed has no specific goal, besides being owned by you (quite the opposite of Patrick). Want a house husband? Great! Want him to work? He won't like being away from you, but his father can get him a good job. Don't want a marriage? As long as your gaze and touch remains on him, he doesn't care. He'll be your dog if that's what you really want.

Joey wants as many kids as he can get in and out of you before you just can't have anymore. Preferably quite a few animals too. He wants your young ones to have the experience and knowledge of farm life that he had as a kid. He wants you to stay at home, but you don't have to cook and clean if you don't want! Just sit pretty, and let him hold you and all your babies at the end of a hard day. And maybe, just let him put on more in you.

Mattias's goals is to give you the world. He knows your living in the slums right now, and this isn't the life he wanted for him and his ma, and certainly not for you. He's gonna make money boxing and kicking teeth in until he can afford to get you whatever you want, and put you up in a safe place. Maybe then, the two of you will slip up more, and you might get pregnant. He doesn't crave fatherhood as much as some of the guys, but once he sees his dark-haired little hijo or hija, he's hooked for life. Now he's gotta ramp it up, he's got his baby and his love to look out for.

Puck isn't one for setting goals, but he does have one things he needs. See, he lives hundreds of years, and you don't. He likes your mortal naivety, and how amazed you are at magic, so it shouldn't be that hard to trick you into drinking or eating something to make you immortal. He just can't imagine spending the rest of eternity without his favorite playmate!

Carl wants your eyes on him, and him only. He'll knock yo up, then you'll have to marry him? Right? Shit, he doesn't care most nineteen year olds shouldn't be dads, you've got his baby, and your gonna be hid wife. Who else would you want to marry besides your best friend? He's got a big family, he's sure he can figure out how to parent and be a good husband. Just... don't go anywhere.

Joshua knows you're not leaving the cult anytime soon, and you'll have to marry eventually. No boys or girls would dare go against him, not when he's as intimidating and revered as he is. It won't be hard to convince Gabriel to marry you to him. He couldn't really care less if you had a baby with him. He's not one for kids. He's mostly just excited to have you to bed, now that you're married. He's got a lot of hormones built up from years of abstinence in the cult.

Morgan wants to spoil you. He has to make up for all the awful things your ex-husband put you through. Gifts, vacations, a penthouse, it's all yours. He just wants to show you what a real man can provide. Of course he wants to marry you, but he's more eager for after the wedding, when he can finally call you his wife. He wouldn't know what to do with a baby, but whatever you want, he'll get you.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Master List

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.

The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.

Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.

As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.

Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.

Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.

Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.

It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.

All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.

But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.

Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.

~~~~~

“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”

Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.

The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.

“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”

Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.

But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.

“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

“Mom, I already paid it off—”

“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”

“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.

“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”

“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.

“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”

Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”

“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.

The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.

“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.

“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”

“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.

“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.

“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.

A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.

“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.

“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs

“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.

“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”

Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.

Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.

“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.

“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.

“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.

“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”

“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.

“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.

“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”

“For what?”

“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”

“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”

“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.

“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”

“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.

“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”

“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”

Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.

“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”

“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”

“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”

“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”

“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”

“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.

~~~~~

After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.

“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.

“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”

“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.

Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.

“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.

He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.

To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.

On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.

But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.

But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.

“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”

“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Did you tell Nickie—”

“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”

“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”

Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.

“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.

“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.

But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.

Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.

She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.

Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.

And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.

Whoever the hell he was.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

[frailstateofhealy]

babe, you look so cool - matty x reader

a/n: hi, this is my first fic!! i've never really written something and put it out into the world so i hope you guys enjoy! so sorry if this is hard to follow but hopefully my writing improves! i'm going to label this as 18+ just because it's angsty and has mature themes! also let me know if you want a part 2! xx

warnings: angst, cursing, depiction of anger issues, toxic love and brief mention of blood

summary: you're in a toxic relationship with the lead singer of an up-and-coming band in your small town. he's damaged and so are you but two negatives make a positive right?

word count: 2.4k !!

wilmslow. a small town in england where your family had decided to relocate to a few weeks ago from london to get away from the chaos of the city.

you were eighteen years old and this would be your final year of school. you were nervous about moving to a town where you wouldn't know anyone until you met a guy called adam who was nice enough to invite you into his friend group and introduce you to them.

you would never fit in with the popular girls because you weren't a cute preppy blonde that everyone liked. you had brown curly hair and your favourite colour wasn't pink like the other girls. it was black and that was the colour you wore every day.

one day during lunch adam invited you to the table where he sat with his friends every single day. as you approached the table you saw a tall guy with blonde hair and another with short brown hair who seemed a bit shy. then finally, you saw the one who was laughing obnoxiously at something the taller blonde one had said to him. the obnoxious guy's smile faded from when he saw you standing there in front of him like he was almost in a trance at the sight of you.

adam stood up from his seat and walked over to you. "hey boys, this is y/n. she's new here and i wanted to welcome her into our group." you smiled and looked at each one of the three boys sitting in front of you but your eyes traveled back to the loud one. he was so visually appealing to you and there was something enticing about him.

adam started "this is george, he's massive. this is ro-" adam was abruptly cut off when the obnoxious one stood up in front of you. "fuck off ross! i'm matty." he said with a smile while letting his eyes linger on you for a few moments before he forced himself to look away.

you looked at matty, he was beautiful. people would often argue that men couldn't be beautiful which you always believed to be true until you met matty.

george's deep raspy voice knocked you out of your trance "shit, matty just fell in love at first sight." george joked that day but he was right and he usually was right when it came to things like that. george and matty seemed to be the closest of the four, they told each other everything. they hardly ever had secrets between them and george knew exactly when his best friend fancied someone, especially from the way matty looked at you. he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful piece of art hanging in a museum, one that he couldn't take his eyes off of.

you began to ask adam some questions about his friend matty during the class you two had together. you knew you had to get to know him and you wouldn't rest until you did. something about him really intrigued you.

matthew healy. nineteen years old. he had spent one extra year in school because he got held back from not paying attention in class or skipping. when he was asked why he didn't show up to class he told the teachers that school "got in the way of his visionary genius" he had long curly brown hair that just barely touched his neck. he sometimes wore his hair up in a bun which matty preferred you called a "man bun." his normal attire was black, ripped skinny jeans, and any shirt he could find in his closet. adam really didn't go into much detail but apparently matty had a rough home life. his parents were always working and had to babysit his little brother often. matty had beautiful brown eyes, the kind you could easily get lost in without even trying. he was shorter than adam, ross, and george and they often teased him about this which he got quite defensive over. all four of them were in a band they called themselves 'big sleep' because matty chose the name after something he enjoyed doing.

they invited you to their band practices in matty's basement every time they had one because they could use constructive criticism which is what adam said. but, you knew it was just because matty wanted to look at you. george played the drums, and ross and adam both played guitar. matty was the lead singer which wasn't surprising for his flamboyant and loud personality. you knew they would be famous one day especially matty. he was the perfect frontman for a rock band, you could just tell.

you and matty had a thing. you wouldn't know what to call it although labels weren't always important. you two would catch each other staring a little more than it should be between two friends. the other guys always knew there was something more between you and matty but they didn't seem to mind. they just seemed to be happy that matty was excited about and that you motivated him to keep showing up to school. ross told you he hadn't seen matty this happy in awhile.

_

you sat there with your legs crossed and watched the guys in front of you tuning their instruments and getting ready for today's band rehearsal. they were in the initial stages of their band so up to this point they only really sang covers of their favourite alternative songs, most of which matty chose.

"so, we wrote this song the other night when you had that thing come up with your dad." matty spoke into the microphone and he seemed quite nervous by way his voice was shaky. the mere mention of your father felt like a punch in the stomach.

matty looked over nervously to his left where adam stood with the guitar pick in his hand. adam gave him a slight nod to calm matty's nerves a bit as if saying it was okay. matty put his head down for a moment "let's do this boys." your eyes traveled to adam as he played the first few chords of their first original song. it was a slower song, it started with just four simple chords and it remained pretty consistent throughout the song. matty started to sing effortlessly while staring at you.

"she had a face straight out of a magazine"

you looked at adam, ross, and george who all seemed to get lost in the music surrounding them. you nodded your head to the beat of the music while also paying close attention to the lyrics that matty sang. you were impressed, you knew they were good but not to this degree. you could tell by the covers that they would sing that they had something special but this just further proved it to be true. the music started to build as the guys started playing faster and with more passion. you loved seeing all four of them get lost in the music that they played. you noticed that adam gave matty another nod as if telling him to do something.

"but if you just take off your mask, you'd find out everything's gone wrong"

matty sang out as he started walking towards you. he grabbed your hand and pulled you hard off the piece of furniture you were sitting on.

"what are you doing?" you asked but you didn't get an answer, well at least not the one you thought you'd get. matty took a break from singing with the pause of the instruments behind him.

"i fucking love you." he muttered as he grabbed you roughly by the back of the neck and pulled you closer to him before you even had a chance to respond. before you knew it, matty crashed his lips against yours in what was a passionate kiss. you felt chills run through your body as he let his lips linger on yours for a few moments before pulling away. when he pulled away from the kiss he reached his hand out for yours as if he didn't want to pull away but he knew he had to. you glanced up at saw george and ross smirking at each other.

they finished the rest of the song and you just stood there dumbfounded. you had no idea what just happened, you weren't upset but you were just surprised. matty nervously looked at the guys and george gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder when all the guys stepped away from their instruments and went into the other room to give you two privacy.

matty finally approached you once again and you immediately spoke "the song was absolutely amazing but why did you kiss me?" matty stared into your eyes as he started to softly twirl the hair that was hanging in his face. you knew him enough to know that he only twisted his curls when he was nervous about something.

"fucking hell!" he finally said as he started pacing in front of you. "matty, what's wrong?" you asked in a concerned voice. you could tell by his body language that something was bothering him.

"i can't stop looking at you. i can't stop thinking about you and it's bloody frustrating. i'm not supposed to be in love with you but i can't help it." he walks back and forth in front of you at a faster pace as his voice grows louder.

"i can't even fucking go to sleep without thinking about how i feel about you. even when i do sleep, you show up in my dreams. it's just-" he pauses for a moment while you just stand there staring at him.

"it's fucking impossible. i need to be your boyfriend. i'll fucking do anything." he trails off while noticing that you're just standing there looking at him. he probably thought you were judging him but you just didn't want to interrupt him.

"shit! are you even listening to me right now?"

you could tell that he was starting to get pissed off. you knew it wasn't with you but it seemed he was very frustrated with himself. he got closer to you, so much so that you could feel his warm breath on your face.

"i need you to be mine. i need you to be my girlfriend and i need you to fucking fall in love with me or something. fuck!" at this point he was raising his voice in frustration. he bit his lip and walked over to the wall and punched his fist right through it. he fell to his knees on the ground, not from the pain of punching the wall but from the pain he was feeling in his chest. at this point, his breathing was fast and he had his head in his hands while he kneeled there on the ground.

without hesitation, you rushed over to him and got onto your knees. you instantly took his now bloody hand into your hands.

"look at me matty, breathe, okay?" you said in a calm tone while staring into his brown eyes which seemed to be darker than usual at this moment.

"i just, i can't..." he paused to gasp for air.

"i can't get you off my mind is all." he said with tears forming in his eyes. he wasn't upset from sadness though. you knew it was from the overwhelming feeling of passion he was experiencing at this moment. when matty had his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind or get him to think of something else.

"matty, what makes you think i don't want the same thing? what makes you think i'm not in love with you because i am." you saw his face turn from a pained expression into an almost bright one. his breathing instantly slowed down now that you spoke. "really?" he asked. you looked down as you noticed a bruise starting to form as well as blood trickling it's way down his hand.

you started to cry, you couldn't bear the sight of him in pain. he cupped your face with his hurt hand, letting out a hitched breath while wincing in pain. he extended his fingers to wipe the mascara filled tears that fell down your cheeks.

"i love you so fucking much, darling." he said almost as he felt relief despite all the pain he must have been in. he wasn't in much pain though, at least not right now when he was looking into the eyes of the girl he loved.

he pressed his lips against yours. only this time it was a gentle kiss that sent shivers through your body. you had dreamt of this moment since you first laid your eyes on him when adam introduced you to him.

you felt helpless right now, you knew he wouldn't have punched the wall if you just spoke up when he was talking. what if him being in pain right now was your fault?

"george!!" you yelled out which was the first name that came to your mind besides Matty's. he was only in the other room so he came rushing in based solely on of the distress in your voice.

"what hap-" he stopped when he saw his friend on the floor next to you. george immediately crouched down onto the floor next to the both of you.

"shit, not again mate." george said he helped his best friend by grabbing a nearby towel and wrapping it around his injured hand.

"he told me he was in love with me but he got frustrated and then that happened." you gestured towards the hole in the wall.

"he does this a lot. he'll be okay." george reassured while grabbing the ice from ross that he had brought in as if each of them already knew what to do.

"what did you say?" george asked as if matty wasn't sitting there right in front of him.

matty looked up at george with a genuine smile. matty didn't smile much unless he was telling a lame joke and even then it faded pretty fast. this one though was already lasting longer than any joke that he thought was hilarious.

"she said you she feels the same mate! she actually feels the same. can you fucking believe that?" matty spoke with a smile.

"i fucking told you you she would. hurt your hand for nothing you wanker!" george teased as he playfully ran his hand through matty's messy brunette curls.

"i got the girl." the curly-haired rocker said with a growing smile.

george smirked and kneeled off of the ground. "yeah, let's see if you can keep this one."

you looked at them both with a raised eyebrow and repeated what george said in your head.

this one? what the fuck does that mean?

[helloalycia]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: with everything left in limbo between you and Lucy Gray, there's no chance to talk about it because reaping day is finally upon you.

warning/s: usual warnings that come with the Hunger Games, such as death and violence and all that jazz. Also cheating, again.

author's note: and this is the final part! it was a fun one to write so i hope you all enjoyed it! kinda have an idea for another lucy gray one but whether it’s fully thought out is another thing, so stay tuned! 😂

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

As if things weren't bad enough lately, the Hunger Games reaping day was finally upon us. Every year I tried so hard to forget it existed, knowing the results would be inevitable and I should just make the most of my life without worrying about it, and every year I found myself growing scared the few days leading up to it, mainly because it meant it was one year closer to Y/S/N being old enough to have her name in the mix.

My parents, Y/S/N and I were approaching the square where the reaping took place, neither of us saying a word, but I could see their fear in their eyes. Y/S/N was holding my hand, trembling slightly, and I hated that there was nothing I could do to put her at ease.

My eyes raked over the residents of District 12, all getting in line as the peacekeepers kept guard, and then Y/S/N tugged at my hand, making me look down at her with concern. She nodded to the left of me, where the Covey were getting ready to line up. Barb Azure was the eldest at nineteen, so gave them all a big squeeze with Maude Ivory before leaving them to go. I caught her gaze and she gave me a sad smile, nodding reassuringly, and I did the same. Maude Ivory seemed to spot Y/S/N and lifted her hand in a slow wave. I noticed the only person who was missing from their group was Lucy Gray. Where was she?

"Why don't you go stand with Maude Ivory?" I encouraged Y/S/N with my best attempt at a smile. "Her and Barb Azure are probably lonely."

Y/S/N glanced at our parents, who seemed to understand what I was doing and nodded with approval.

"Good luck, Y/N," Y/S/N mumbled as she hugged me tightly once more, and I almost didn't let go.

After she ran to join the others, I gave both my parents a final hug, pretending I couldn't notice the tears in their eyes, and watched as they joined the rest of the crowd at the back, made up of those either too young or too old to take part.

As I turned to find my place in line, Lucy Gray suddenly appeared, startling me. I hadn't seen her since a few days ago when she kissed me, and it had ended so awkwardly that I still wasn't sure what to think. But right now, it was the last thing on my mind.

"Just wanted to see you before it starts," she said kindly, and my heart warmed at her words.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, noticing the frown on her lips, and it looked like something more than just everyone's usual fear of the Games.

She sighed, looking down at her fumbling hands, before avoiding the question and instead saying, "I'm sorry about the other day, Y/N. I really am."

I lifted my brows slightly, not expecting her to bring it up, especially not now.

"Thanks for everything," she continued, a tight smile on her lips. "For being there for me."

"What?" I asked, because she wasn't making any sense. "Lucy Gray, I–"

She hugged me suddenly, arms wrapping around my shoulders briefly, but long enough for me to smell the spritz of an old floral perfume on her neck and make my head go cloudy. Leaning back, she kissed my cheek before I could react, and gave me a knowing look as my skin warmed where her lips just were.

"Remember to stay away from Billy Taupe and Mayfair," she reminded me sternly. "You promised, remember?"

I furrowed my brows, searching her eyes for some sort of explanation to why she was acting so strangely. "Lucy Gray–"

"In line, both of you, now," a peacekeeper interrupted, pushing between us and shoving me slightly to the others.

I tried to look at Lucy Gray once more, but she offered me a slight smile before joining her line. I told myself I'd have to talk to her afterwards, but then as the reaping took place, I realised why she'd been so confusing.

She was to represent District Twelve in the Hunger Games.

I could hardly believe it, not when the mayor called her name out on the stage, not when she threw a snake down Mayfair's dress, not when she sang her song of defiance, and not when they whisked her away, never to be seen again.

She knew she was going to be chosen. I wasn't sure how, but she'd figured it out, already prepared to go out with a bang, in typical Lucy Gray fashion.

It wasn't fair. All because Mayfair held a pathetic grudge, she'd made sure Lucy Gray paid the price – it had to be that, otherwise what was the need for the snake? And now I was never going to see her again. After everything, I couldn't talk to her, hear her voice, see her pretty little smile, ever again.

Why?

I was hurting, still in disbelief but knowing the Covey were even worse for wear, definitely unable to accept that their sister was truly gone. Unfortunately, I had to work that evening, but the Covey weren't performing tonight. There was nothing to celebrate, and even the Hob itself was emptier than usual, nobody quite in the mood to remember the stolen life of another.

Instead, the Covey were sat at a table in the corner, saying nothing and looking distraught. I wasn't sure what to do to make them feel better because how could they? All I knew how to do was be a waitress, so Miles let me bring them some fruity, non-alcoholic drinks on the house, a rarity and a treat, but one they definitely needed right now.

"Hey, guys," I said, tray in hand as I approached their table. Setting it down, I began to share out the drinks one by one.

"We can't afford that," Barb Azure mumbled, and neither of them touched it.

"It's my treat," I said sympathetically. "Thought it might make you feel a bit better."

"How are we supposed to feel better when she's gone?!" Maude Ivory snapped in a broken voice, before jumping off her seat and walking away.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling stupid as I looked to the others. "Sorry, I– she's right. I didn't mean it like–"

"Don't, it's okay," Tam Amber cut me off with an apologetic glance. "We're just missin' her. It's hit Maude Ivory hard."

I pressed my lips together, nodding sadly.

"Thanks, Y/N, we appreciate it," Barb Azure added, offering a small smile, before taking a sip.

"If you need anything, just let me know," I told them earnestly. "I'll be here for you."

They nodded, and I reluctantly left them to it, knowing they probably wanted some space.

There had never been a winner from District 12, and I hated that that's all I kept thinking as I thought about Lucy Gray in the Games. She could still win, there was a chance she could, but she was a performer, not a fighter. Her chances were slim. There, but slim.

We couldn't watch the Games, the Covey and I – nobody in District 12 could. The reception was simply terrible, no matter how hard we tried to tune in. There was one evening however, when Y/S/N and I were at the Covey's home. We'd been visiting them often the past few days, both to cheer Y/S/N up and to simply be there for them, but this night was different. Tam Amber had been able to get some signal on their small TV, using a lot of tinfoil and taking advantage of the clear night.

"It's on! It's on!" Maude Ivory shouted, pointing at the screen. "Don't move!"

Tam Amber held his position on the antenna, tilting his head to get a good look at the screen. Clerk Carmine turned up the volume and I wasn't sure what we were watching at first, unfamiliar with the Hunger Games as we rarely had access to it. And then I noticed the expensive clothing, the bright lights, the witty presenter – it was in the Capitol. Some sort of interviews were taking place between the tributes. A girl from District 11 was finishing up her interview and we all watched with slight amazement, rarely seeing anything like it.

A spotlight shone onstage and the audience fell quiet. It was quiet, before the familiar sound of a guitar strumming sounded, and to everyone's disbelief, Lucy Gray walked out into the centre of the stage.

"Lucy Gray!" everyone said with realisation.

It was her! It was really her! Only a few days had passed since she'd been stolen away, but it felt like forever without her energetic presence alongside us. My heart was beating exceptionally fast as I studied her. She was wearing the same dress she wore on reaping day, but it looked as if it had been cleaned, ironed and made brighter – a white dress with vibrant rainbow ruffles at the bottom, only the brightest for someone who loved colour. Her lips were painted red, eyes dusted blue, and she looked as well as could be, though a little slimmer. I wondered if they were feeding her, concerned it could hinder her in the Games.

Her voice started soft, gradually growing strong as she sung about herself and a mystery lover, whom everyone soon realised was Billy Taupe. And as she finished her hauntingly beautiful song – "Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping. Now what will you do when I go to my grave?" – we realised she'd only confirmed our suspicions of it being because of him and Mayfair that Lucy Gray was chosen as a tribute.

"It's their fault," Clerk Carmine said what everyone was thinking, upset as it dawned on him what kind of brother he had. "He let this happen."

Y/S/N wrapped an arm around his shoulder comfortingly as we all watched the screen, the cutaways to the audience cheering after her performance. And then as we were all savouring the sight of Lucy Gray for a little longer, the signal cut out.

"Sorry," Tam Amber said with a sigh, stopping his stretching and sighing. "It's not gonna work."

"It's fine, thank you," Barb Azure told him.

Nobody spoke for a moment, the sound of the static the only thing to fill the room. If it was interviews today, then the Hunger Games would officially begin tomorrow.

She'd be fighting for her life tomorrow, and there was nothing we could do about it.

The Games ended yesterday, that's what rumours around town were saying, but nobody knew for sure since nobody could watch them, and so nobody knew who'd won either. I was trying not to think about it, unsure whether to believe it they'd truly ended or not. For all I knew, they could have still been going on, or they could have ended days ago. Either way, the last thing I wanted to imagine was Lucy Gray battered or bloodied or bruised.

Instead, I tried to distract myself with the job at hand – working. In particular, throwing some old beer crates out back in the bins as Miles had asked me to. I was on the third one, carrying it from the backdoor of the Hob and to the bins next to it when I felt someone's presence behind me. Curious, I turned around and my jaw dropped, the crate almost slipping from my grasp.

It was Lucy Gray.

"Hey, darlin', what's with the long face?" she asked, tilting her head and smiling playfully.

I blinked, certain I was imagining this – it wouldn't have been the first time she'd infiltrated my dreams. But when she didn't disappear, I found my voice.

"You're back," I said hesitantly, afraid I'd be mistaken. "You're here. You're– how? How are you here?"

"Why, I won the Hunger Games, of course," she said like it was nothing, an easy accomplishment, which we both knew it wasn't. "Turns out I wasn't finished here after all."

Her statement was so insane that I couldn't help but let out a quiet snicker, tears filling my eyes when I accepted that she was finally home. She'd done the impossible – she'd won.

Setting down the crate, I swallowed the lump in my throat before approaching her suddenly, pulling her in for a hug. She was here, she was real, she was home.

Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly, head tucking into my shoulder and curly brown hair blinding me. Every part of me was ignited by her touch, unable to believe she was actually here.

I wanted to say so much to her, and yet nothing came to mind because I was too overwhelmed with her presence, my senses invaded by her scent, her warmth, her touch. Just when I tried to pull back to truly look at her, she pulled me closer, tighter, and I couldn't do anything other than let her embrace me a little longer.

After a moment, I pulled back, eyes scanning her worriedly. She looked a little tired, circles under her eyes covered by makeup, and her hands were tougher than usual – I felt them through my shirt – no doubt a result of what she'd endured in the arena. But she was alive, and that was all I could have asked for.

"When?" I asked, voice embarrassingly thick with emotion. "When did you get back?"

"Midday," she answered, brown eyes bright as they flickered between mine with focus. "I went straight home after they sent me here on a train. Reunited with the family. Counted my lucky stars."

I smiled a little, still in disbelief, and hung onto her every word.

"Then I wanted to come 'n' see you," she continued lightheartedly, though there was some truth to it. "See if you'd forgotten about me."

I began to laugh, wiping away my stray tears. "I could never, Lucy Gray. Nobody could."

She smiled appreciatively, before looking down at her hands, long eyelashes casting a shadow across her face as she blinked. I could have watched her for a while, merely existing, glad that she was back, but she needed more than just another admirer right now.

"I won't ask you what it was like over there," I said gently, making her look up again. "I can imagine you don't wanna talk about it. But if you do, well... I'm here."

She exhaled through her nose, smile widening. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

I didn't know what to say, suddenly embarassed under her stare, and she chuckled at my reaction.

Clearing my throat, I changed the subject and pointed over my shoulder to the Hob. "Are you staying tonight?"

Her eyes flickered over to it, lighting up excitedly. "I might perform a few songs, why not?"

At this, I suppressed the urge to smile and admitted, "That would be nice. I missed hearing your voice. I– I missed you."

Her eyes fell back to mine, smile faltering a moment. "Even after how we left things?"

Our last encounter before the reaping came to mind, and I nodded honestly. "Especially after that."

She hummed, smile fading completely, and I wondered if she was thinking about it too.

"I've been so worried," I admitted, my heart beating a little quicker in my chest with each word I spoke. "We all have. But the TVs didn't work and the peacekeepers wouldn't tell us anything."

"I didn't mean to worry you," she said sweetly, taking my hand and squeezing it. "The Covey said you and Y/S/N checked in with them whilst I was gone. You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," I said, placing my other hand on hers and taking it between mine.

She glanced at her hand, making me realise I was still holding it, and I let go gently.

"I should go home and get ready," she said with a nod. "But I'll see you in a few hours, Y/N."

"Can't wait." 

Her smile widened and she turned to leave, my eyes unable to look away from her retreating figure for fear she'd only be a dream.

As promised though, she returned to the Hob a few hours later, and by then, word had spread fast about her victory and return. The Hob was bustling with people, all unable to believe Lucy Gray was finally back. Even Mayfair and Billy Taupe were there, mainly in disbelief that she'd survived, but I tried not to focus on them since they didn't matter anymore. They couldn't do a thing anymore.

The Covey hadn't performed since Lucy Gray left, so everyone was in for a real treat when they kicked off with her introduction. Spirits were high, drinks were flowing and I couldn't have been happier than when I saw Lucy Gray back onstage, where she belonged.

We'd left things in a strange place, but it all seemed so futile now. My heart was full of adoration for the Covey girl, and maybe it was time I just started listening to it instead of overcomplicating everything. 

It was a long evening, and by the time I'd finally finished cleaning up with Miles, we both left and waved goodbye to one another, my feet hurting from standing on them for so long. Only, as I was about to start my walk back to the Seam, I spotted Lucy Gray waiting outside, startling me.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said between a laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Hand to my chest as I regained composure, I said, "No, it's fine. It's... what are you still doing here? It's been half an hour."

When her and the Covey had finished performing for the evening, it had been too busy for me to spare a moment to say goodbye to them, so I'd just assumed Lucy Gray had gone home with them.

"I was waiting for you," she said simply, and I instantly felt bad.

"If I'd known, I would have hurried," I said, stepping towards her.

"It's okay, I didn't want you to rush," she assured me, before shrugging. "I missed you. It's been too long and I just wanted to walk you home."

My expression softened at her words, a warmth spreading in my chest. "You don't need to," I told her.

"I want to."

I pressed my lips together, exhaling quietly, before nodding and readjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. She flashed me a stunning smile before joining my side and leading the way.

"You did great tonight," I said to her, glancing over and trying to ignore the flutter in my chest at her profile. "Your songs, your spirit – everything."

Her smile grew. "Thank you, that means a lot. I guess I just really missed performin'. It's not the same as singin' for the Capitol."

"Tam Amber managed to get signal one night," I said without thinking. "The night of the interviews. We just about caught yours. Your song."

She sighed, her smile fading into more of a grimace as she remembered, and I felt bad for bringing it up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to remind you," I quickly said, frowning. "I– never mind that."

"It's not so easy bein' back after everything," she admitted, looking to me, before stopping walking all of a sudden, I stopped too, and then she continued, "but I've realised a lot of things."

I furrowed my brows slightly. "Like what?"

She clenched her jaw, before her dark eyes met mine with conviction. "I didn't kiss you because you were Billy Taupe's replacement."

Surprised she'd bought it up, I asked, "What?"

She didn't dare look away as she answered, "Back before the reaping. When I kissed you at the bonfire. It– it wasn't me confusin' my feelings or usin' you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

I wasn't sure what to say at first, unable to make sense of what she was admitting. Because if that was the case, then that meant she liked me, and how could that be?

"It's okay," I said slowly, heart rate beginning to speed up as she held my gaze. "It's history now."

"I don't want it to be," she said desperately. "I missed you so much, Y/S/N. I was there and– and all I was thinkin' about was the Covey, your sister and you. All of you, and how I had to get back to you all." She swallowed hard, stepping closer. "With you, I need to clear the air. Because after everything, I've learnt that life is too short and too tender to let things slip by. And I've fallen for you, Y/N. Deeply. And you just– you need to know that that's why I kissed you. Nothin' more, nothin' less."

Frozen in place, I hoped she couldn't hear my heart hammering in my chest, or feel the shivers on my skin from the warmth emanating from hers. She was stood so close, enough for me to make out the tears pooling in her eyes, and I didn't know what to do. This whole time, she liked me. I wasn't a fool for thinking so – Billy Taupe had been wrong. All this time, I'd had a chance and it was almost ruined because of my own stupidity and insecurities.

"What are you thinkin'?" she asked between a halfhearted chuckle, a tear slipping from her eyes. "You're stuck in your head again, darlin'."

"I'm sorry, I–"

"Don't be sorry," she said, taking a step back, and she'd misinterpreted where I was going with this.

"No, I mean, I–" I began, but the words were lost on my tongue, and the more she looked disappointed, the stupider I felt. "I didn't know, Lucy Gray. I didn't expect it. Billy Taupe, he–"

Another of her tears fell, and I groaned quietly to myself, shaking my head. Why would I have ever listened to him in the first place?

"I'm sorry," I repeated, meeting her gaze with the utmost sincerity and guilt. "I should have never listened to the likes of him."

It was her turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"

"I let him get in my head," I admitted, cheeks heating with embarrassment. "He convinced me that you were using me as a replacement for him. That you only liked me because–" I stopped myself, it sounding stupid when I said it aloud, especially to the girl in question. "It was stupid. You would never do such a thing, I should've never listened to him."

She frowned, trying to find my eyes, but I was too embarrassed to look at her. "That sounds like him. I'm sorry he did that."

"No, I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head and getting stuck in my own head again. "I ruined this, and then you left, and all I kept thinking about was how I let you go, and if you didn't come back then–" I paused, frowning to myself, before finally lifting my eyes to meet hers. "I've always liked you, Lucy Gray, but so does everyone else. And I didn't wanna be just another Lucy Gray admirer. But you saying this– meaning this– it's just– you're just– it– you can't–"

She began to smile, nodding. "I get it."

I stopped talking, flustered and embarrassed and unsure what else to say or do, because after so long, the girl I liked actually liked me back.

She stepped toward, hand lifting to my cheek and cupping it gently, and I practically held my breath as her glassy eyes met mine. Then, she looked down to my lips and leaned in, kissing me.

Unlike last time, I let myself enjoy it, closing my eyes and kissing her back. Her lips were soft, sweet like her lip balm, and fit perfectly against mine. This couldn't be real, she couldn't be real. After everything that happened, she was here and I was getting a second chance. How?

After a moment, we both pulled away for air, though she didn't let go of my face just yet, nor I with my hands on her waist. I opened my eyes, submerged in pools of brown, and forgot how to speak, lips tingling where hers just were.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she said quietly, thumb tracing my lips gently, and sending shivers all over my body. "I thought I ruined it, the last time. Lost you for good."

I shook my head. "I don't think you ever could, Lucy Gray."

A smile formed on her face, and then a laugh escaped her lips, and she looked at me once more, making me feel like the most important person in the world.

She kissed me again, and I wondered what I'd done to be so lucky.

[trivalentlinks]

back on my weird leverage AUs (this is another darker-than-canon AU)

AU where the events of the pilot episode happens three years earlier, when Eliot is still working for Moreau (but it's towards the end of this period, when he's already starting to question whether he can live with himself like this).

(Let's push up the timeline for everyone else, so Nate lost his son three years earlier, etc.)

Since Eliot isn't on the market, Dubenich hires Quinn as the hitter. Quinn does like guns, and is a little more cheerful, but a little more skittish, but mostly things are the same.

The thing is, Moreau, with Eliot by his side, is much more careful. Eliot never tells anyone about him, and neither does anyone else, so even though this Moreau is just as powerful and influential as he is in canon, hardly anybody knows who he is.

A few months in, the team accidentally end up in Moreau's crosshairs by unknowingly doing a big job against a company that Moreau secretly controls.

They had no idea what they were up against--None of them had even heard of Moreau, except Quinn (who used to work with Eliot on-and-off, before Eliot worked for Moreau), but even Quinn doesn't know anything about Moreau other than that he's Eliot's employer. (He knows that much because Eliot tried to recruit him for Moreau once several years back, but he wasn't ready for the commitment back then.)

So anyway, they really kicked the hornet's nest on this one, and now this little rag-tag team is being hunted by Moreau's private army led by Eliot fucking Spencer, uh-oh, they're all gonna fucking die

(Eliot and Quinn didn't part on bad terms, but they were never really friends, either. They trusted each other on the job and shared the occasional post-job meal or drink, but they weren't friends beyond that. They were certainly not friendly enough for Quinn to think Eliot would go easy on the team on Quinn's account when he catches up to them.)

(Also Quinn knows Eliot well enough to know that it's when, not if, Eliot catches up to them.)

I'm really just imagining a scene where Eliot closes in on Quinn and Hardison, and Quinn, injured and out of ammo (and didn't have a better than 30% chance of defeating Eliot in hand-to-hand combat even on a good day), begs Eliot to let Hardison go, like, "Please. He's nineteen--a teenager. You don't kill kids, right? Teens included?"

(Back when Eliot and Quinn worked together on-and-off, they still sometimes took jobs working against each other. One such time, Eliot didn't kill Quinn when his job would have been easier if he did, and when asked about it, cited "I don't kill kids. Teens are included in that," as his reason, much to then-19-year-old Quinn's annoyance.)

(Quinn knows that Eliot was just teasing him back then--older, armed teens like Quinn were not included in "I don't kill kids".)

(And anyway, based on the rumours, Quinn is pretty sure Eliot left the realm of "I don't kill kids" a long time ago.)

(But look, he's about to die. This annoying, brilliant teenaged hacker who managed to embarrass Damien Moreau (and, more impressively, has almost wormed his way into Quinn's non-existent heart) is about to die. Quinn is desperate.)

(Quinn certainly isn't expecting it when this last-ditch plea actually works.)

[kaiijo]

VIGILANTE — GEPARD LANDAU

pairing: gepard landau x gn! reader content: angst, pining, pre/during belabog arc, implied previous relationship

“we have to stop meeting like this, captain,” you say as you hear gepard appear behind you. for someone who wears all that heavy armor, he moves pretty quietly.

he sighs your name, exasperated, saying, “we would if you stopped committing crimes.”

you chuckle, tossing your dagger up and down, “i’d hardly call it ‘committing a crime’ if i’m borrowing from my own family.”

“you’re stealing. regardless of if it’s your own family, it’s still a crime,” he answers. he levels you with one of those unreadable looks and says, “i don’t get why you’re doing this.”

you roll your eyes and move closer to him. he watches your carefully but you both know you’d never hurt one another; after all, you’ve known each other since you were kids. your family is a rather prominent one in belabog and good friends with the landaus. you remember when gepard was hiding behind serval while you parents introduce you all.

you also remember when the two of you first held hands at twelve years old, kissed at sixteen, confessed your love at nineteen, but time marches on and things change. and now, you and gepard stand at opposite sides of the battlefield.

“do you know what it’s like, down in the underworld?” you ask him, only mere inches away. you don’t miss the way gepard’s breath stutters. “people struggling to survive, working to make ends meet. i’m just using what resources are available to me to help them.”

gepard’s frown only deepens and he says, “so you’re breaking the blockade as well?”

you groan in frustration, “aeons, gepard, that’s not the point!”

“i get where you’re coming from,” he says more gently this time, placing a hand on your shoulder. even through his gloves and your coat, you can feel the warmth of his palm. “i do, but there’s a reason madame guardian enacted the blockade. i don’t… i don’t want you getting hurt or caught up in something i can’t help you out of.”

“i don’t need you to look out for me anymore, gepard, we’re not kids.” you ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you see the hurt flash across his face. you add softly, “i need you to trust me on this.”

you hold gepard’s gaze, conflict swirling in those crystal blue eyes. you used to love you admiring him and his eyes and his classically handsome face, but you don’t really get to do that in the same way anymore. still, you take this moment to do so, and your hand cautiously comes up to land on his chestplate, right over his heart, the metal cool to the touch. gepard sighs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, his own hand covering yours.

your breath comes out shakier than you want and you bite down on your bottom lip, a pressure building behind your eyes. it’s so familiar, this proximity, these touches. it’s gepard. your gepard.

you squeeze your eyes shut. you want him to wrap you in his arms again. you want to kiss him again. you want to tell him how much you lo—

“oh, am i interrupting something here?” the two of your fly apart and you look over gepard’s shoulder to see sampo sauntering towards you two with a contrite expression that doesn’t match the mischievous glee in his eyes.

“my humblest apologies,” sampo says with a pout. gepard’s jaw clenches as sampo continues, “i was coming to collect this lovely person for our little rendezvous tonight!” sampo, like the fucking asshole he is, then turns to you and clutches his chest. “imagine my surprise — my heartbreak! — when i see them with you, captain!”

you see that same hurt appear on gepard’s face and you hastily explain, “it’s not like that at all! he’s— we’re— sampo’s—”

sampo interrupts again: “we’d love to stay and talk, gepard, but time’s of the essence. you know how it is.” he taps his nonexistent wristwatch at you. “tick-tock.”

you roll your eyes but sampo’s right. you need to get this money and medicine down to natasha soon. there’s an apology on your tongue to gepard but it dies; you’re not sure what you’re apologizing for. you’re not sure what to say to him.

you slip past gepard, following sampo, who’s humming a merry tune (ironically, one of serval’s songs). you glance over your shoulder one more time. gepard’s rooted in his spot, gazing back, something forlorn and wistful in his expression, which immediately closes up when he meets your eyes.

he doesn’t try to stop either of you but with each step away from him, you feel the ever-widening gap between the two of you grow. you wonder if either of you will take a chance to leap across it but you’re both too stubborn, set in your ways to do that right now, you know that much.

so, as you descend into the underworld, you can only hope that one day, that chasm between you closes and you can cross right into each other’s arms again.