#even better a second time around

[nickfowlerrr]

everything comes out teenage petulance

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!

words: 4.3k

aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻

and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻

notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵

You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.

You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.

Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”

“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.

Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”

You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.

He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.

“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.

You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.

He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.

You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.

He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.

“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.

He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”

“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.

He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”

You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.

“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.

A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.

“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.

He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.

He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…

He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.

He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.

It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.

Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.

“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.

“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.

“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.

You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.

His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.

Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.

“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”

You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”

“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.

“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.

And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.

“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.

“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.

You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.

You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.

“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”

“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.

You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.

“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.

“What?” you breathe out.

“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”

You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.

“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”

He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.

“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”

His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”

You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.

“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.

It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.

“Never?”

You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.

“That’s impressive,” he breathes.

You quirk a brow at his response.

“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.

“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.

Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”

Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.

“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”

You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.

“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.

“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”

You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.

“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.

Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.

He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.

“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.

You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.

Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.

He’s here tonight because of you. For you.

He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.

It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.

“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”

“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”

He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.

“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”

You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”

You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.

“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”

“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.

You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.

“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.

“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.

“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.

You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”

He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.

Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.

It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.

You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.

“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.

“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.

“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”

“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”

[withleeknow]

away from you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, a touch of angst if you squint and then close your eyes entirely, unedited 🤷‍♀️ word count: 0.9k listen to 🎧: what i'm leaving for - lady antebellum note: yet another est. rel drabble because this is purely self-indulgent and i miss him very much lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

when you hear the key turn in the lock, you're up from the couch in a blink of an eye.

a pile of jittery nerves and longing, that's what you've been reduced to.

you will yourself to wait - the most patient you think you've been in a long time - until he hauls his suitcases past the threshold, until he takes off his coat and hangs it on the hook in the entryway, until he kicks off his shoes and places them neatly next to yours, until the keys are in the bowl, until he lets out a heavy but relieved sigh before shuffling further into your shared home.

you feel like you could cry the very second your eyes land on him. it's been months since you've been in the same room as him - exactly three and a half months, because you have been counting. counting down the days until he returns, until you're back in his embrace again.

not all of the lights are turned on, but there isn't a single part of you that cares about whether or not your living room is properly lit. you launch yourself at him with a force that sends him stumbling backward until his sweater-clad torso softly lands on the wall. minho gasps - a slightly alarmed oof! - but soon relaxes when he recognizes the familiar and comforting scent of your shampoo.

he greets you with a laugh, light and relieved, like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

"hi," you sniffle, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tightly against his chest. god, it's not even dramatic to admit that you've been dreaming of this.

"hi," he says, voice muffled as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling your skin. "why are you still up? i told you not to wait up for me."

"it's only 1am."

"but i know you've had a long week."

"don't care."

it's true. you can't bring yourself to care about the hellish week you've had because all of those troubles seem to melt away in his presence. you wouldn't even care if his flight had landed at 5 in the morning, because you would have stayed up the whole night to wait for him anyway.

minho makes everything better for you.

"i'm all gross from the plane," he says, though he doesn't ease his hold on you at all.

"don't care."

"you missed me that much?" there's something playful in his tone as he asks you this, partly because he always wants to tease you for being down bad for him, partly because he can sense that you're about to turn into a crybaby.

you pull back just enough to look at his face, his striking features illuminated only by the dim lights. but even then, he's still stunning. beautiful, beautiful, beautiful...

you pout with teary eyes as your fingers trace his cheek, his jawline, his sharp nose that you love so much. "don't make fun of me," you say, though your voice comes out a bit wobbly. "you know i missed you so fucking much."

he chuckles fondly at your language, his big eyes glimmering like a north star, before he dips his head to finally kiss you. and it's fucking liberating, the first kiss that you've shared in months.

his lips move languidly against yours, like he's trying to savor the moment, trying to commit to memory the taste of you because these instances tend to hit him the hardest even if he doesn't always tell you that.

he absolutely hates it when he has to be away from you, but whenever he returns and gets to have you again, it always makes the love burst tenfold in him. absence makes the heart grow fonder - maybe there’s some truth in that.

he kisses you until you're both out of breath, until he has to reluctantly pull away so your lungs wouldn't burn out. "i missed you too," he mumbles, his lips brushing yours with every syllable he speaks. "missed you so much i thought i was going to die."

you laugh at the theatrics of his words, and then you cry, a single tear overflowing and rolling down your cheek, which minho quickly brushes away with his thumb. "a little dramatic," you comment.

"i was miserable. ask anyone."

you roll your eyes, feeling the slight burn behind them as you hold onto him, clutching his sweater to keep him close to you.

“you’re never allowed to leave me for that long ever again.”

with an amused eyebrow raised, minho says, “then how long am i allowed to leave you for?”

“five hours.”

“five hours? that’s not even a whole work day.”

you pretend to be in thought, then pretend to compromise. “okay, fine. eight hours.”

his eyes crinkle with mirth as he looks at you, so incredibly endeared by the adorable pout on your lips and the glassy look in your eyes, by you pawing at his chest like you never want him to leave.

he doesn’t want to leave either. he just wants to stay by your side forever.

“god, i missed you so much,” minho breathes out, then leans down to rest his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with his along the way. “i’m sorry i was away for so long.”

“you’re here now. that’s all that matters.”

he kisses you again, even softer and slower this time. he adores you so much that it feels like his heart is about to give out.

“i’m home now. i love you.”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 18.12.2023]

[outerspacebisexual]

Memories of Days Gone By - Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer has never understood having a cluttered desk at work. Then you start at the BAU, and he's forced to share a desk with the least desk-tidy person in the whole FBI. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: none, except talk of reader getting shot a/n: woah, outerspacebisexual actually writing instead of just reblogging post about writing? crazy Masterlist

Spencer always thought that having personal mementos in the workplace was weird.

Maybe it came from his mother, whose desk was always so cluttered she could barely place anything down without something else falling off. He could—as with everything else—vividly remember sitting in her office chair, spinning in around and around in circles, watching his framed toothy six-year-old-self flying past him again and again and again.

She never swapped out that photo, even when he got older and his round, chubby face became angular with his teen years. Not when he graduated high school, or college, or college again. In fact, he knew for certain that photo still sat on his mother’s bedside table. So you’re always here with me, she’d said on one of her good days. And even though most of the time she had no idea who the tiny child with thick frames was, she still traced a finger down the side of the glass before bed.

When Spencer first joined the BAU, he’d made a point to ensure his desk was cleared every hour. Empty coffee cups, old files, shredding, sticky notes; after one hour, it all went. That way he could ensure that everything got done.

And that same habit continued for years, until you showed up.

Hi, you’d said on your first day, sticking out your hand and smiling wide. Looks like we’re desk buddies.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The desk had belonged to Emily before you got there, and the idea of looking up and seeing you was just another reminder that he’d lost her.

He was nice to you, of course. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d simply taken a job opening from the ballistics unit to the BAU. It wasn’t your fault that his dead friend’s desk was now yours.

At first, he noticed how you had a habit of leaving empty coffee cups on your desk, choosing to get another one rather than reuse the one already on your desk. It wasn’t a problem. There were plenty of mugs in the kitchen. But when your chair hit your desk, they chimed together, and the noise set him on edge.

He left it alone for the first month.

But then came the files.

Files piled up on your desk---not in neat piles marked ‘Complete’ and ‘Incomplete’ like his—just spread out across the surface in every direction and orientation. And as the week went on, more and more were added until there was no discernible way to tell which had been done and which hadn’t. This led to you having to leaf through folder after folder until you found the one you were looking every day.

Spencer had been tempted to say something one week when he’d watched you out of the corner of his eye search for a file for fifteen minutes. You’d found it right as he opened his mouth, spinning in your chair and heading straight for Garcia’s office. Spencer had sat and stared at the mountain of manila folders then entire time you were gone, thinking to himself, How could you put up with this?

How could you deal with having to fight with your desk at every second of the day just to find something? The idea of it made him want to throw up. Not that his apartment was any better, he knew that. But there was a difference between work and home. Home was allowed to be messy and cluttered, full of the rest of your life outside of work. Work was work. It depended on being able to obtain information quickly and efficiently—not after ten minutes of rooting around.

Hey, Reid? you’d asked one afternoon. Have you seen that Milwaukee case file?

Which one?

The consult one? With the three missing girls?

He tried his best not to roll his eyes. I think you put it down on the edge of your desk.

You spun and rifled through the stack, grinning when you held it up. You’re a genius, you know that?

Pursing his lips, he said, Believe it or not, I do.

Spencer might’ve been bad at reading social clues, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you were just trying to be nice and start a conversation, but he reached over and lifted the phone to his ear, pretending not to notice the way your face fell. You quietly turned back to your computer and opened the file.

A week later, you tried again. Reid, do you want coffee?

No, he answered quickly, despite blinking back the sting of a 3:00am emergency case. ‘Urgent’ was all the text from Hotch had said, and now he was sitting behind his desk once again, for the fifty-second hour this week. Hotch was never wrong. There had never been a case that Hotch had chosen where the team hadn’t been needed, not in all the years Spencer had worked for the BAU. But he couldn’t deny that there were times that he wished he wasn’t at work.

You sure? I know we got more sugar, if that’s what you’re worried about.

I’m fine, he snapped, harsher than he’d intended. Thankfully, you left it alone.

+

Then, you were all in Atlanta, consulting on a case of three male bodies and another man missing. By the morning, his head had cleared, and he noticed the space you’d put between the two of you when you both arrived at the ME’s office.

Doctor Glenn, thanks for meeting with us, you started.

Doctor Glenn had smile brightly at you, standing from behind his desk to shake your hand. Spencer waved. Of course. And please, Scott is fine.

You sent him a soft smile. Where are we with the latest autopsy?

Well, from what I can tell, the murder weapon was some sort of short-bladed knife. What kind, I can’t say for certain. The advanced decomposition on all three makes it tricky.

Something like a kitchen knife? Or pocketknife?

Scott nodded. It’s possible. Like I said, I can’t be sure at this stage.

Can I see the photos? Spencer asked.

Absolutely, Scott replied. I was going to give you the file anyway. He opened the closest folder to him, but frowned. Oh, this isn’t right. Sorry, it’s here somewhere.

Noting his reddening cheeks the longer he searched, you said, Your desk looks a lot like mine.

If Scott noticed you attempt to put him at ease, he didn’t make it known. Brows pinched tightly together, he queried, The BAU doesn’t have strict guidelines on that kind of thing?

You shrugged. Maybe, it does. Though, I’m sure I’d have been written up by now if it did. You leaned forward in your chair to glance at the photo frames on the side. Spencer could see them clearly from where he sat. Two dozen frames littered the side of his desk, all displaying four boys---from baby photos to teenagers. Are they your boys?

Scott, visibly grateful to have a distraction while he continued rustling through drawers, didn’t look up. Yes, the four of them. James, Patrick, John, and Liam.

Spencer watched in silence the conversation the two of you had.

How old?

James is almost 21, Patrick, 19, and John and Liam are both 16.

Twins?

Indeed.

Must have been a handful when they were younger, I’m sure.

He smiled gently. You don’t know the half of it. John’s decided to head to college in California and Liam’s heading to New York.

It must be nice to have them close, at least for the time being, you replied.

It is. I don’t quite know what I’ll do once they’re gone, if I’m honest. And I worry. Like every parent does, I suppose.

Well, if they’re half as kind as all these photos make them out to be, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine.

That’s kind of you to say. I’m not blind, either. I know it’s a lot.

You laughed. It’s not, I promise. It’s nice to have something to remind you of the good. Especially with jobs like yours and mine. Reminds you of what you’re working for. Who you’re working for. There’s so much darkness out there, if we don’t remind ourselves, we can get lost in it.

Scott produced a file from the bottom drawer, and Spencer just stared at you, even as you took the file and flipped through it.

+

A month later, Spencer found himself hunched over his desk, computer brightness on low as he tried his best to block out the noise emanating from every corner of the bull pen. With the migraine he was sporting, he was sure he could hear all the way to reception, which did nothing to help his pounding head. He clicked random buttons on his computer as his eyes watched each minute tick by.

Four hours. That was all he had left. Then he could leave and collapse down onto his couch and sleep for two days until it was gone. With each passing minute, his brain fog got worse, until he was reading the same sentence for the fifth time in a row without comprehending what it was saying. Who even sends an email at 1:04pm on a Friday?

Aaron Hotchner, according to the contact name at the top. He needed to reply. Hotch would be expecting an answer.

Spencer hadn’t even realised you’d been speaking until you waved a hand in the air over the partition between your desks.

What? he asked, when you just stared blankly at him.

I asked if you were OK?

He sat up straighter, doing his best to ignore the pain that stabbed through him. I’m fine.

You cocked an eyebrow. Are you sure? You don’t look great.

I said I’m fine.

You were silent for a long moment, and you refused to break eye contact with him. That was until you leaned over and reefed open a drawer.

What are you doing?

You continued to dig through it. I have some pain meds in here. Nothing fancy, but you look like you could use some ibuprofen.

I don’t need it.

And I don’t need to sit here and watch you suffer for the rest of the day, Reid. Seriously. It’s painfully obvious.

Spencer didn’t have it in him to reply. Any other day, and he might’ve snapped at you. But today, he would take your kindness. As he came around to your side, he peeked inside your drawer, noting it was the same as the top of your desk. Cluttered and messy.

He stared at the mountain of files, eyes roaming over your desk. Your nameplate. Your empty coffee cups. Your photos. He paused as he took them in—for the first time since you’d been here.

Many different photos were tacked onto the partition. Most were of a cat and a dog and a few people who he assumed were family and friends from outside of work.

Only one was framed—a photo of the team. He could remember the day. You’d only been at the BAU for a month and upon returning from a hard case, Garcia had surprised you with a cake and balloons in the conference room. You’d cried, he remembered. Which he’d thought was weird, but hadn’t taken much note of at the time. Anderson had snapped a photo at Garcia’s insistence.

Suddenly, a sleeve of ibuprofen was thrust into his chest. Here.

Thank you, he mumbled.

You don’t need to thank me, Reid. Just take it, and maybe seen Hotch about leaving early. That can be your thanks. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, which he returned before heading to the breakroom.

+

Six months after you started at the BAU, you got shot.

Not life-threatening, but a bullet to the shoulder meant you were laid up on leave for two weeks.

The bullpen had never been so quiet, Spencer thought. Though maybe it was his guilt that made him think that. It had racked him every day of the two weeks since they’d gotten back from Wichita. The bullet had been meant for him, and if he’d actually been paying attention to his surroundings, then he wouldn’t have missed the UnSub lining up the shot, and you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way, taking the hit for him.

Your screams still echoed in his mind. The first, his name: Spencer! Get down! And the second, your yelp of pain. Spencer had fired off two shots in quick succession, taking out the UnSub with barely more than a thought before he was turning to you lying flat on your back and gripping your shoulder.

He’d accompanied you to the hospital, where they said long-term damage was unlikely, but you would have a long road to recovery until you had full use of your arm again.

Hotch had immediately put you on leave, threatening that he’d make you take even longer if he saw you in the office at all before the two weeks was up. You had kept your word to him that you’d take the full two weeks.

Spencer hadn’t been sure what to do about your desk for the first few days. Hotch had instructed him to take over your files, which was easier said than done.

Heaving your last folder into his ‘Complete’ tray, he breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the clock, he realised he’d been zoned out writing reports for four hours. The rest of the team had all gone—aside from Hotch, but when wasn’t he in his office.

Starting over the partition, Spencer eyed the mess that still cluttered your desk. He hadn’t wanted to touch anything except the files, which he’d gingerly sorted into what was done and what wasn’t, careful not to disturb anything else on the desk.

Now, staring at all you’d left behind when they’d suddenly been forced to jet off, he wondered if tidying it was the least he could do. Maybe you would thank him for it. Or maybe you’d tear his head off for touching your stuff.

He decided to take that risk.

Collecting the loose papers and random Post-its, he placed them neatly into piles to the right of your computer. Most where mindless reminders for yourself—Get the dry cleaning! and Pay the water bill by tonight!

Spencer wasn’t always grateful for his eidetic memory, but not having to remember small day-to-day tasks was a huge bonus for him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope without it.

He straightened the tacked photographs and wiped down the team photo. He made sure your computer was properly plugged in. He ensured your tablet was fully charged for your return. He was almost satisfied, when he noticed one green Post-it note had fallen behind your monitor screen. Weaving his hands between the cords, he pulled it out.

Thanks for the ibuprofen. I really appreciate it.

Below his barely legible script, sat a small face he’d doodled. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought anything of it since he stuck it to your monitor.

But you still had it, even two months later.

He stuck it back where he’d put it the first time.

+

You’re back, Spencer said as he entered the bullpen the next morning.

I am, you replied, grinning wide. Do I have you to thank for this?

Placing his bag down on his seat, he said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh, come on. There’s only one other office neat freak in this whole place, and I know for a fact it wasn’t Hotch. When he said nothing, you rolled your eyes. Fine. Guess I’ll have to pass my thanks on to the boss man.

Spencer smiled as he unloaded his bag.

Cat got your tongue or something, Reid? He kept his lips sealed perfectly shut. Ok, then. Keep your secrets. I don’t need to know them. I don’t want to know them anyway.

I’m getting a coffee, he said suddenly, cutting off your teasing drawl. Do you want one?

You blinked. What?

I said, I’m getting a coffee. Would you also like one?

Uh, yeah. That would be great, you managed after a moment. Thanks.

He nodded, and he pretended he didn’t feel your eyes watching him the whole time as he made his way to the break room.

+

“Reid?” Morgan called, and Spencer looked up from the file he was currently nose-deep in. “Are you coming?”

“What’s happening?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

Morgan groaned. “Don’t tell me you forgot about dinner at Rossi’s tonight.”

“Oh, that’s tonight?”

“Yes, pretty boy. How could you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, gathering his belongings as Morgan made his way over to him.

“From the looks of it, you absolutely did.”

“I didn’t. I just…have a lot on my mind.”

Morgan stopped at the side of Spencer’s desk, his signature smirk adorning his face. Spencer didn’t even look at him as he hastily jammed files into his bag.

“This is new,” Morgan commented, and he glanced over to see him staring at a framed photo he’d picked up.

When he flipped it around, Spencer could see it. The photo of him in his apartment, sitting on the couch, grinning ear to ear, and you sat right beside him, holding your left hand up to display the shiny ring adorning your finger. You’re looking directly at the camera. Spencer is only looking at you.

Spencer took the photo from him. “I liked it, so I got it printed.”

He didn’t have to tell him that he got every photo printed now. He’d never been a fan of technology, and the idea that all his best memories were being held ransom on a device that could be destroyed any minute made his head spin. So, he got every photo printed. Most were safely tucked away in albums on his bookshelf at his apartment.

But this one was special.

Morgan’s voice was gentle as he said, “It’s nice.”

Spencer smiled and brushed a finger over the glass. “Reminds me of the good,” he said.

Then he placed it back down on his desk, the frame right at home amongst all the others.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Say it

Pairing: RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader

Summary: After coming back from Spain, Leon has been acting distant. You think seeing a face from the past has messed with his feelings, and he wants to prove you that is not the case.

Takes place after the events of re4 remake, mentions the events of RE2 remake as well

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), p in v, creampie, choking, praise kink, soft dom leon, he talks you through it, they're both just desperate for each other, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, language, established relationship

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I've been thinking about this mf ever since I played the remake. So I wrote this self indulgent piece of filth. This is my first time writing for him so pls be kind. Enjoy :)

You can also read this over at Ao3 (but pls still reblog and shit here thank u)

Leon Kennedy Masterlist

Creds of gift above to this tumblr

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

You knew you had no right to be upset, not when you knew damn well what he went through. Or more so, you didn’t actually know what he went through, so you couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through his head right now. But still, you knew something else was in his head, and it wasn’t just the horrors he had to deal with to come back alive from Spain. There was something else in his mind. You knew it.

This silence, it was killing you. Leon wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, not after Raccoon City, but for the better part of a decade, you learned to be comfortable with his silence. Right now though, you just felt uncomfortable.  

“Want me to pour you one?”

Oh he speaks.

You lifted your head from the pile of papers on your lap at the sound of his voice, you saw him standing in front of the small cabinet where he kept all of his alcohol, glass and bottle of expensive whiskey in hand. You half smiled at him and shook your head. 

“Not right now, thank you.” You watched him shrug in response and take a long sip of his glass, before he walked over to join you on the couch. But he sat on the opposite end.

You frowned a bit when he sat so far, but you chose to not comment on it and instead brought your attention back to your paper. A good five minutes went by, and you had made zero improvements, you hadn't even picked up the pen again, so Leon spoke again.

“How’s the paper coming along?” He asked with a clear of his throat as he sat back, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him and his head was turned in your direction.

You sighed heavily, “It’s not. I can’t for the life of me come up with the right words.” You groaned softly as you threw your head back and rubbed your tired eyes.

You were in the same place you were a little less than a week ago, when Leon left to find Ashley Graham in the middle of nowhere Spain, not knowing if you’d ever see him again or not. You couldn’t even sleep, or eat, let alone focus on a paper. And although Leon was now home, alive, you were still preoccupied. 

“And that is exactly why I dropped out.” 

“This is a Phd program, not my second year of undergrad. Undergrad was nowhere near as bad as this.” You snorted softly and shot him a look. He gave you an annoyed look knowing you were teasing him. “Besides, what you do is way worse than some paper. Fighting weird cults and bioweapons or whatever they’re called.”

“Yeah..” He scoffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t humorous. His expression quickly turned serious as he looked down at his lap. You could see the way his grip tightened the slightest bit around his glass and his jaw ticked.

He had been home a few days by now, having stayed in D.C for a few days to finish all of the report and briefing, and you hadn’t talked about what had happened to him in Spain, just that Ashley was safe, and some weird cult was behind it all, but he couldn’t say much more, or maybe just didn’t want to. Regardless, any mention of it would make him tense up. 

He got quiet, and his eyes not once looked your way again. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat up, leaning over your knees to be able to reach him.

“Leon,” You said his name softly and a gentle hand touched his leg. You felt him tense up, but he didn’t make any attempts to move away from your touch. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t care if he didn’t want to open up, you didn’t expect him to, and you would never force him to, but you wanted him to know you would listen if he did.

A shaky exhale left his lips, but he nodded. “Yeah baby, I’m good.” He answered after a few seconds, forcing a smile and forced himself to look your way, but his eyes never met with yours.

God this was killing you. 

Before you could respond, he downed the rest of his whiskey before rising to his feet and he started walking without saying a word. Oh no. Absolutely not. If there was something that made your blood boil, it was him walking away in the middle of a conversation. The avoidance. That was something you couldn’t deal with. 

“Leon.” You called his name firmly as you stood up and looked at him with a frown. He turned around with an exasperated spin and a tight jaw, frustration already starting to show. “Do not give me that look, Leon Kennedy.”

He smacked his tongue softly, holding back the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m not. I’m just..” He didn’t finish his sentence, he just sighed out loudly.

You let out your own sigh as you walked to stand in front of him. You stared up at him, eyes big as you met his pale blue ones. They looked emptier and less bright every time he came back from a mission, but this look, this look that screamed he was having a mental hurricane, he only had it after Raccoon City. 

“Baby I know… I don’t, I don’t know what you saw, or did in Spain, and I know you’re having a hard time right now. I just..” You sighed shakily, bringing your hands up to hold his face between them. He tensed up again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his head hung low, but he said nothing and didn’t move away either. “See, this is what I mean. You don’t even want me to touch you. I want to comfort you, I want to help, but you won’t let me. I thought.. I thought we were past that.”

Your hands were at your sides now, and you had taken a step back from him. That seemed to make him look at you, now with big eyes full of guilt, like he hadn’t even realized he was rejecting you. He had been in his own head, not being able to forget the events of Spain, and not being able to sort out his feelings like he knew he should have. God, had he been acting like this the whole time he was home? Rejecting your attempts at comfort? 

“Baby..” He stepped forward, closing the gap you had just created, but he didn’t touch you. He just looked at you, lips parted. He didn’t know how to tell you. “It’s not that.. And it’s not you. In Spain.. There was someone else on that island..”

You stared at him with confusion at first, unsure what exactly that had to do with this. His eyes searched for yours with this guilt ridden and conflicted look. The same look he gave you after Raccoon City. The same one he gave you before he told you he needed time. And then it dawned on you. 

Someone else. 

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Realization quickly flashed over your face, and that quickly turned into a mixture of anger and hurt as your gaze hardened. Leon saw it. “That’s what it is. You saw Ada. You saw Ada and now you have your balls all twisted up. Again.”

Now it was you who was walking away from him. You weren’t even going to argue this time, and you didn’t want to wait for him to tell you he needed time again. You were halfway up the stairs when Leon started to call your name, but you ignored him and simply turned the corner into your shared bedroom. 

“Shit.” He cursed to himself, sprinting after you, missing two steps and nearly tripping up the stairs in the process. 

By the time he made it to your bedroom you already had a backpack thrown on the bed as you aggressively threw clothes into it. His eyes widened with slight panic when he realized what you were doing.

“Hey, woah. It’s the middle of the night, where the hell are you going?” He huffed, walking back and forth between the bed and your dresser as you continued to aggressively toss clothes on the bed.

“Claire’s. Move.” You muttered as you stopped on your heels when Leon stood right in front of you, arms folded over his chest like a wall between you and your dresser. “Leon, I swear to God.”

“Just listen. It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened, sweetheart I swear.” God he wanted to hold you so bad, he didn’t realize just how much until now. But he didn’t reach for you, he kept his arms over his chest, afraid you would backhand him if he tried. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you probably realized she was just using you again, so you had no other choice but to come back home to me, and not with her, right?” You scoffed, the hurt and betrayal clear in your voice. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t even let him speak, “And before you ask me for time to sort out your feelings, I'm just gonna go stay at Claire’s, and maybe don’t bother looking for me this time.” 

You grabbed the backpack from the bed with whatever you managed to shove in there and started to walk to the door. But Leon was faster than you, stronger too. And before you could step foot outside that bedroom, he had closed the door and backed you into it, both of his hands pressed flat on the door on either side of your head. Your eyes were wide when you looked at him, lips parted but he didn’t let you speak this time.

“Do not say another word, don’t you fucking dare. Just listen to me.” He stressed every word with an authority that instantly made you close your mouth. You blinked a couple of times but didn’t dare say a word. So he continued. “Get this through your head, Ada means absolutely nothing to me anymore. She asked me to go with her, after everything and I.. I said no. I said no ‘cause I want nothing to do with her. I said no ‘cause I wanted to come home to you.”

“Leon..”

He shook his head at you as one of his hands gripped your jaw tightly and he bowed his head to speak closely to you. “I know I’ve been an asshole to you these past few days, I didn't realize I was shutting you out, and I’m sorry. But know that I would never chose Ada over you, not now, not fucking ever. I love you and I’m gonna marry you someday, don’t ever question that.”

You could hear your own breath, his breath, and he kept a tight grip on your jaw as his nose brushed against yours. You closed your eyes and sigh left your lips as you leaned in to press your lips against his, but he pulled back enough to leave you chasing.

"Stay here. Please baby." His voice was low and almost desperate. Fuck, you wanted him take you right then and there. You couldn't even speak, you just nodded, eyes still closed and lips parted. "Say it." 

"Yes. Yes, I'll stay, just.." You breathed out the words, mirroring his desperate tone as you clenched your fists around his t-shirt, pulling his body flush against yours. "Please." 

His mouth came crashing down against yours so hard he pulled a gasp from your throat. But it quickly turned into a whimper when he angled your head back, allowing him to slip in his tongue. And you happily allowed him to do so as his other hand gripped the back of your thigh. 

"Up." He mumbled against your lips as he nearly effortlessly hoisted you up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso.

He walked the short distance to the bed, fingers squeezing your thigh and lips never leaving yours. He only pulled away when he laid you down on the mattress. You were about to whine when he leaned back, but you only managed to suck in a sharp breath as you watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes landed on the bruises and injuries he had come home with, a large knife cut across his bicep, now slightly pink as it began to heal, another smaller one above his collarbone, less angry looking, and more purple bruises than you could count, but they were starting to heal as well. Goddamn, even bruised he was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. Clearly you must've been distracted by the absolute sight that was your boyfriend because you didn’t realize he started to undress you as well until he pulled your t-shirt -that was actually one of his old ones- over your head. He flashed you with a grin and a look that was outright filthy before he leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your breasts while one of his hands played with the other. 

The whimper that fell from your lips was almost pathetic, and you couldn’t help but arch your back further into Leon’s mouth, his lips sending shocks of electricity down your spine.

“Please Leon.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.

He pulled back from your breast with a hum, and tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You gave him a pitiful look, and made a sound resembling a whine. He simply stared at you with feign innocence, “What, baby? What do you want? Tell me.” 

Oh Leon S. Kennedy. That S didn’t stand for Scott, it stood for stubborn, because he had to have his way, no matter what.

You made the same pathetic noise, instinctively trying to rub your thighs together to give yourself to relief, but of course, Leon’s body was right in the fucking way, “Please I want.. Ugh fuck sakes Leon. I want your mouth, I want your cock, I want all of you, please.”

Leon had this smug smirk on his lips and he hummed, satisfied with your pathetic pleads, “Alright baby, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, then you can come on my cock all you want. Would you like that?” 

God, the look you gave him right then made him want to split you wide open. That look of pure need that you could only give him, that you have only given him. And you nodded with so much eagerness it was almost adorable. 

“Do you remember how to speak sweetheart?” He asked with this mocking voice and a smirk that made you pull your lips into a small pout as you nodded, and then he smiled at you, head tilted, “Then use your words. Say ‘yes Leon’.”

This motherfucker.

You grumbled a whine of annoyance, for a moment feeling defiant, but Leon quickly gave you a warning look, a look that had you backing down pretty fucking quick, “Yes Leon.” You finally said, hoping that would get you what you wanted.

So he is stubborn, and an arrogant asshole. Checks out.

He gave you a satisfied smirk, and planted a hard kiss to your lips before he moved down the bed. He pressed his lips to your stomach as he pulled your pajama pants down your legs, your panties quickly following. You shivered softly when the cold air hit your core, but the cold was quickly replaced with his warm breath. His pale sapphire eyes found yours for a second as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, pulling you closer to his face. He dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit and drew his tongue over the sensitive bud. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were anything but subtle. Your hands instantly flew to clutch his long hair. And while you might have not intended to pull, when two of his fingers slipped into you to join the rhythm of his tongue, you just couldn’t help yourself. You pulled, and fucking hard. He growled, sending vibrations through your core that had you gasping and he dug his other hand into your thigh as he forced you still on the mattress. 

“Oooh fuck, fuck Leon,” Your broken moans filled his ears, just as he felt the burn on his scalp from your pulling. 

He knew exactly where his mouth needed to be and where his fingers needed to curl to make you come apart, he prided himself in that. And with the way you kept crying out his name and your body wouldn’t stay on the mattress, he knew you had to be pretty fucking close. 

“Stay fucking still.” He growled as he pulled back enough for his thumb to replace his tongue for just a second, just so he could watch the way your body writhed each time his fingers brushed against your most sensitive spot. “Yeah that’s it, you’re so close, aren’t you baby? Mhm yeah. C’mon pretty girl, c’mon.”

His tongue quickly replaced his thumb on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen bud as his fingers scissored you open, the lewd sound of his mouth lapping at your dripping cunt filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And you couldn’t help it, you pushed his head further against you, and the growl that rumbled in his throat as he abused your clit sent vibrations that had you seeing white. Your release coated his face and hand as you fell into a fit of shaking sobs.

His fingers left you slowly, making sure you felt every second of it as his tongue still circled slowly around your swollen clit, not stopping until you were practically pulling him away by his hair, your body still twitching a bit. He chuckled softly, leaving a wet kiss to your thigh in silent praise before slowly climbing up your body. 

You opened your eyes to find him settled between your parted thighs, two fingers in his mouth and he moaned lowly as he tasted your juices off his fingers. Your mouth was wide open, and a whine left your lips. 

“Hm? Wanna taste baby?” He smirked as he pulled his fingers from his lips and leaned down, pulling you into a messy kiss by your jaw. You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips, and fuck, it had you clenching around nothing. He groaned softly, his clothed cock brushing against your wet cunt. He quickly pulled back, seemingly not wanting to wait any longer. “You taste so fucking good, but you feel even better.” 

He ridded himself of his sweatpants in a second or two, boxer briefs quickly joining on the floor. He hissed softly as he sat on his knees and brushed his cock over your entrance, covering himself in your slick.

“Please babe..” You whine softly, legs dangling over his hips as you endured his torture. He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he leaned over you, your legs high on his torso as he slowly filled you, your walls instantly clenching around his cock. 

Leon moaned softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slipped further inside you, fingers digging into your hips with enough force to bruise, “Oooh fuck yeah, atta girl.”

You could only moan weakly in response, sounds so pathetic and broken, and Leon loved every goddamn second of it. He sat still for a few seconds, soaking in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders encouraged him to move. He snapped his hips, over, and over, each delicious drag of his cock making you cry out. His pace was brutal almost immediately, and you were clinging on to him like that was all you were meant to do, to take everything he had to give you.

“Goddamn, you’re taking my cock so well baby. Mhmm, doing such a good job,” His words were coming out in between moans and whimpers, the feeling of you cunt clutching him so well making him just as desperate as he made you. “This is what you needed, hm pretty girl? Yeah, me too.”

He had your knees nearly pressed up to your chest by then as he fucked you into the matress, and you took it happily. You nodded eagerly, gripping his hair and pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze. “You’re.. You’re mine, mkay? Just mine.”

Your words of ownership caught him by surprise, and he laughed between pants, biting down on his lip and he hovered over you enough to press his forehead against yours, the change in angle allowing him to hit your most sensitive spot, and he had you mouth wide open.

“Yours huh? I’m yours?” He asked with a wide smirk, your words clearly riling him up. You nodded quickly. “This dick is just yours, right baby? Is that what you want me to say? That no one else can have me? That no one else deserves it?”

He grunted out the words, lacking as much control as you did, but still in control enough to taunt you, to get you going, and fuck, he got you going like one else could. You were practically screaming ‘yes!’ at the top of your lungs. Your neighbors probably knew Leon was back by then. But neither of you could honestly be bothered to care about noise. 

“Yes! Yes, only I can have you.” Your words were broken, your voice was absolutely broken in between fits of sobs. Your hands were gripping at his blonde strands as your toes curled, the flash of heat you so desperately craved to feel a second time settling in your body as you continued to take in his punishing thrusts. But you still managed to say, “Please say it. That you’re mine. Fuck, please say it.”

Fuck, when you begged him like that, so close to falling apart for him, how could he ever deny you anything?”

The moan that fell from his lips at your words left you shaking, but you were not ready for what he decided to do next. He leaned down, as close as he could to your face, lips almost touching as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, and between pants he said, “I’m all yours baby.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your entire life, and Leon felt it. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as your walls clenched around him, hard. A shaky whimper left his mouth as his hips started to falter, his thrusts becoming more sharp and shallow the closer he was to his own release. You held him tightly, fingers gripping his hair and his name left your lips in soft sighs enticing him to fall apart as well.

“Mmm goddamn, I’m so close. Fuck, let me come inside you baby. Ugh,” His words were shaky, so close to falling apart. You nodded eagerly, clinging onto to him as he squeezed your throat, his moans getting louder and shakier before he fell still, cock twitching as he spilled himself inside you, “Ooooh fuck, mhmm that’s it baby. Take it like the good girl that you are.”

You closed your eyes in delight, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through his slick hair soothingly, his hand now resting beside your head just as he rested his face on your neck. His quick and heavy breaths were hot on your neck, just as his body was hot on yours, but neither of you wanted to move, or leave the other. He needed you to hold him, and you needed him to let you. He never wanted you to doubt what he felt for you, ever again. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, holding each other, Leon still inside you. Probably once he no longer had the energy to keep his weight off you, so with a kiss to your jaw, he moved away, lying beside you instead. He ran a hand through his disheveled and sweaty strands, getting his hair away from his face. With a lazy smile, he glanced over at you, equally fucked out, hair just as sweaty and disheveled as his. He bit his lip softly and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed softly, bringing your hand to hold his face.

“Mmm, I think I should make you jealous more often if you’re gonna fuck me like that.” He laughed softly, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You pulled back enough to look at him and you glared at him, nudging his head away. He only laughed harder.

“That was no jealousy, you asshole.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips slightly pursed, but the way he smiled at you and tilted his head made you crack a small smile. “I’m serious. Leon I swear to God if I find out you contact her again I will stab you in your sleep with your own knife.”

Leon knew your threat of bodily harm wasn’t serious, but he knew the reason behind it was, he knew he hurt you after Raccoon City, and it took him a long time to earn back your trust, and he would never put you through that again. 

“I won’t, I want nothing to do with her. I never did. I love you, that’s never going to change, yeah?” He leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. You believed him.

“I know. I love you too.”

“Good. Now I’ll go run us a bath for round two.” He shot you a wink as he got up and laughed when he saw the look you gave him, “That was a joke. I meant to get cleaned up.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and simply shook your head as you watched him walk across your bedroom, but when he was about to walk out, you called his name.

“Yeah baby?” He said, peeking his head into your bedroom from the hallway.

“So, when are we getting married?”

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part X

Word count: 10,825 Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injury, victim blaming, self-deprecation, fictional racism, discussion of past abuse, temporary death  Summary: After an unwise decision, Tango and Jimmy find themselves in Hels, at odds, and up against an old foe seeking revenge. But as everything comes to a boil, Tango realizes he must finally confront his past if he has any hope of saving his future.

A/N: Hey y’all, thanks so much for ur patience. Didn’t mean for this to take so long, I’ve been dealing w some health issues, but I’m doing way better now and on break from school so here we are. I hope u enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part X - no ‘who cares,’ no vacant stares, no time for me 

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player stares at his soulmate in shock.

Tango could’ve sworn Jimmy was asleep. He checked, he checked multiple times to make sure Jimmy was well and truly unconscious before slipping out of bed. And he’d been so careful about it, moving so slowly and quietly to ensure Jimmy wasn’t woken up. All he’d needed was for Jimmy to keep sleeping for not even five minutes- just long enough for Tango to sneak downstairs, grab the supplies he’d secretly prepared earlier, go through the portal, and break it from the other side.

Yet here they are.

The abrupt silence after their mutual outburst is blanching. There’s almost a static feeling to it, like electricity gathering in the air before a lightning strike. All of Tango’s previous thoughts have flown clean out of his brain. He can only stare at Jimmy, forehead stinging, mouth slightly parted as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Jimmy looks similarly disoriented. He sits in a heap in front of the portal, bathed in the green-yellow-red light, his wings splayed out around him. His nose is scrunched up- still wincing from the pain of Tango’s forehead smacking into his chin, most likely. The recently-obtained scar across the newly-formed bump on the bridge of his nose stands out in sharp contrast against his other, more familiar, features. He said it didn’t bother him, but Tango feels a stab of guilt every time he looks at it. Even now, it’s a reminder of the pain Tango’s brought him. Of how Tango’s failed him.

Jimmy recovers first.

“What am I- what are you doin’ here?!” he cries, rising to his feet. 

Realization dawns on Tango as he finally grasps the reality of this impossible scenario he’s found himself in.

Jimmy’s here. In Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Oh. Oh no, oh that’s the opposite of what Tango wants. This is bad. This is really, really bad. This is a whole heap of bad with extra badness on top. Jimmy can’t be in Hels, he should never be in Hels.

“Tango,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward, “are you listenin’ to me?”

Tango jumps to his feet, heart pounding. He quickly scans their surroundings- still no players to be seen, though some of those magma cubes in the distance are getting close. He knows they’re on borrowed time; there’s at least two players in this world who are bound to notice his arrival in chat, and the clock’s ticking.

“Tango?” Jimmy says again, uncertainty leaking into his voice. “You alright?”

Adrenaline floods Tango’s body. He feels hyper aware, like all his senses are in overdrive- his skin is prickling with heat, and if it weren’t for the wither rose collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be swirling around in a defensive inferno.

He needs to get Jimmy out of here.

Despite their difference in height, Tango’s strong enough that he could probably push Jimmy back into the portal. He’d have the element of surprise, initially. But Jimmy’s build isn’t just for show- Tango would have a hard time keeping him in the portal for the few crucial seconds required to teleport. He might even get teleported back, himself. 

So instead of attempting brute force, Tango stalks forward- though not close enough to be grabbed- flattens his ears, bares his teeth, and hisses.

“Go home,” Tango hisses lowly. “Right. Now.”

That seems to take Jimmy aback. He raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Ex-cuse me?” he demands, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, hang on-”

“You shouldn’t be here!” Tango interrupts, his voice catching somewhere between anger and desperation. “This is-”

“You shouldn’t be here! What-”

“You’re not safe here-”

“- tryin’ to- well, neither are you!”

“- and you need to go back!”

“I’m not goin’ back without you!” Jimmy gives up on trying to keep his voice down, wings flaring out in agitation. “I thought we were in this together! I- god, Tango, we want to help you, we all just wanna help-”

“It’s not your problem!” Tango snaps, his temper rising. “Alright? It was my mistake that brought Bravo and Hels Tek to our door, you- why should you have to deal with it? What, just ‘cause we got randomly assigned to be soulmates? You didn’t sign up for all this!”

Jimmy’s expression darkens. “Yes, I did, that’s what it means to be a partner.” He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-”

“I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too? Maybe I don’t want you to put yourself at risk fighting my battles for me? Because I love you?” He rakes his claws through his hair, a mirthless laugh escaping him. “Is that- did that happen to cross your mind? That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself? Maybe I could do the selfless act of love every now and then? I mean, is that- is that so hard to believe?”

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, brown eyes blown wide. Even in the absence of their soulbond, Tango can tell he’s hurt. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says finally, voice quiet. “I know you love me. Of course I know you love me. But Tango, honestly- can you honestly tell me that this decision wasn’t- that- that it had absolutely nothing to do with feelin’ like you deserve to be here?” he asks desperately. “No influence on your decision at all? Not a- a single part of you that thinks it’d be okay if you got trapped here again, suffering forever? Not even the slightest bit?”

Shit.

Tango sets his jaw. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy repeats, disbelieving. “Of course it does-”

“No, I don’t- you need to leave!”

“I’m not leavin’ you, I mean it!”

“I already told you, I don’t want-”

“Tango, please.” Jimmy holds out his hand. He looks close to tears. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Tango swallows back a frustrated whine; he doesn’t have time for this. Atlas has no doubt already noticed his arrival, and he still needs to find Bravo. And the longer they stand here loudly arguing in front of an active portal, the greater the risk of discovery. It’s already a miraculous stroke of luck that the portal spawned in an uninhabited area.

Jimmy can’t force Tango back through the portal any more than Tango can force him. Besides, starting a physical fight with Jimmy would probably be his breaking point. This is hard enough already. He spends a precious second to take in Jimmy’s face; the thin line his mouth has pressed into, the tears brimming in his eyes, the scar across his crooked nose.

Then Tango turns on his heel and sprints away.

It’s a last-ditch effort kind of gambit. He’s hoping that if he loses Jimmy in the basalt delta, Jimmy won’t know what else to do but go back through the portal for help. And once he does, Tango can swoop in and break it. Problem solved.

There’s a surprised shout behind him. Wing beats fill the air as Jimmy takes flight. But Tango’s head start has already allowed him to reach the first outcropping of basalt, pock-marked with pools of lava. Without breaking stride, he leaps up onto the ledge of stone-

Only for his foot to catch on a tripwire.

Pistons go off while he’s still mid-jump. The ground opens up into a black pit beneath him. His claws scrape uselessly against the lip of basalt and suddenly he’s falling, stomach lurching, too shocked to even call out as wind whistles by his ears and he plummets into the darkness below, Jimmy’s voice screaming after him.

“Tango!”

Traps. He forgot to look for traps.

Weightless, Tango struggles to right himself. The hole is pitch black and it’s disorienting, wavering light from his dim blaze rods flickering against the walls. His mind races frantically. Even if he could pull a block from his inventory and place it down under him- and he’s not sure that he could, at the speed he’s falling- the damage would kill him anyways. No, better to see how this ends. If he’s dumb enough to fall for a trap, he should at least give it the satisfaction of killing him as intended.

Although, Tango’s been falling for more than a couple seconds and he hasn’t hit anything yet. That’s unusual. Few trappers care to dig holes this deep when a shallow pit of lava will have the same result. Maybe death isn’t the goal here. Maybe-

Light, somewhere down below. As it gets closer, Tango thinks he can see the walls of the hole open up into a larger room. But the bottom still goes down- into a pit of cobwebs. So that’s it. The trap was designed to capture players, not kill them. But why-

“Tango!”

Jimmy’s voice echoes wildly in the tunnel. Tango glances back over his shoulder to see Jimmy diving towards him, arms stretched forward and wings flattened, body straight as an arrow. 

Tango doesn’t currently have the breath to call out to him. If he did, it’d probably be something along the lines of, ‘No no no no no, why did you follow me, you idiot!’ and that wouldn’t be very constructive.

Jimmy hooks his arms underneath Tango’s, snaps his wings out, and takes them sailing out through the gap in the tunnel.

The abrupt swerve makes Tango’s stomach drop. Jimmy barely manages to avoid taking them directly into a wall, wings flaring, wind whipping around them. They tumble into an ungraceful- but not deadly- landing, tangled up in a pile of limbs.

The room they’ve flown into is large but rather crude, carved out of the netherrack and deepslate that make up the deepest levels of Hels- more of a cavern, really. A few scattered torches along the walls provide the room’s only lighting, and they’ve landed among a collection of haphazardly-placed chests- a chest monster to rival Scar’s. The center of the room is occupied by the hole at the bottom of the dropchute. Beyond it is something that makes Tango’s blood run cold.

Half of the room is covered in elaborate redstone circuitry, feeding into an empty portal frame. It’s an eerily similar setup to their own portal, and Tango is at once certain he knows who this base belongs to.

He processes this all in the couple seconds it takes him to get on his feet. Jimmy’s still crumpled beside him, uninjured but disoriented. Shit. He hadn’t planned to have Jimmy with him for this confrontation and it has him on edge, his skin crawling. The room’s empty right now, but he can’t see another way out except back up through the dropchute- it’s a precarious place to be in. He doesn’t like what being backed into a corner does to him.

“Ugh,” Jimmy groans softly, pushing himself upright. “Not one’a my better landin’s…”

“Shh,” Tango hisses.

Jimmy frowns at him, rising to his feet. “Tango, can you just-”

“Quiet!” Tango urges, gaze flicking around the room. Their sudden presence doesn’t seem to have set off any alarms, but there’s no telling what the trap was hooked up to-

Ca-clunk.

Tango’s ears prick at the sound of more pistons. He whirls around, hackles rising, to see part of the adjacent wall open up.

“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?”

Tango had been mentally preparing himself to see his doppelgänger again, but he’s still taken aback at the state Bravo’s in. His hair and clothes are wild and unkempt, the stains on his shirt indistinguishable between redstone and blood. There’s a weariness about him, like he hasn’t slept in days, yet every muscle in his body is tense, his bruised knuckles gripping a netherite sword. Most striking, however, is his face; his green eyes are so bloodshot they’re almost red, and heavily lined with dark circles that- in a bizarre way- resemble wither stains.

So for a moment, it’s like Tango’s looking in a mirror.

It passes quickly. Tango forces the tension from his body, holding up his hands. “Take it easy, alright, I just wanna talk.”

“I?” Bravo tilts his head to the side, taking another step forward as the wall closes up behind him. “Uh, it looks like- looks to me like there’s two of you, pal.” His gaze cuts over to Jimmy, and his mouth quirks into a grin- hard and humorless. “Good to see ya, Jimmy.”

Tango bristles. “Leave him out of this,” he says lowly, stepping in front of Jimmy. “He wasn’t supposed to come.”

Jimmy makes a noise of protest. “Hang on-”

“Ohh, oh okay,” Bravo says, nodding slowly, “I- I see what this is. This is- hah, wow, this is kinda perfect.” He begins to pace in front of them, idly twirling his sword in his hand; there’s an unsettling air about him. “Lemme guess, you uh- you intended to come here alone, but your soulmate had other ideas?”

He spits the word like an insult. Tango feels his lip curl. “None of your business.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” Bravo barks out a laugh- a sharp contrast to the enraged look in his eyes. “Well, you’re in my fucking house, so, you know. Forgive my curiosity.”

Anger flares inside Tango; he pushes it down. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot-”

“You fucking think?”

“Enough!” Jimmy shouts, wings flaring as he throws an arm out in front of Tango. “Bravo, listen to me. I don’t like you, alright, but we aren’t here to fight.”

“Obviously.” Bravo actually rolls his eyes. “I can- I can piece it together well enough, okay. You figured that you could come rescue me from Hels, and then I- everything will be peachy-keen, right? I mean, if- if you wanted me to stay here, you wouldn’t have opened a portal. Except this one,” he stops his pacing, leveling his sword at Tango, “got it in his thick head that it was somethin’ he needed ‘to do alone.’ So he snuck off by himself, on a solo mission of noble, stupid self-sacrifice, in the hopes that it’d make up for what he did-”

“Shut up,” Tango growls.

“- and that it’d keep you safe. Right?” Bravo’s voice drips with malice. “Except poor Jimmy’s too good to let you take the fall alone so he followed you here, right into my trap.”

“So what?” Tango demands with a bravado he doesn’t feel. Truthfully, Bravo’s words have opened a pit in his stomach; he hates that Bravo has seen through him so clearly. “What, I mean- you want a trophy for figuring it out? And- and why set a trap for us if your plan was clearly to get out through a portal of your own?”

Bravo scowls. “That trap wasn’t for you, actually. It’s for the damn mercenaries that’ve been comin’ after us since I split from Hels Tek.”

Jimmy frowns. “Us?”

Bravo’s face twitches. “Wh- me. Whatever.”

“You split from Hels Tek?” Tango asks, furrowing his brows. He knew Atlas and Bravo had fought back on Double Life, but he wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to make Bravo willingly take on Hels by himself.

Bravo snorts. “Yeah, I- I uh, I don’t take kindly to bein’ stabbed in the back, but Atlas still wanted a portal and wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, so.”

Tango would laugh at the irony, if he didn’t feel so sick to his stomach. “Wow,” he drawls, still unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “so it turned out Atlas only cared about you as far as he could exploit you? Imagine that.” 

Clearly, he’s touched a nerve. “Shut up,” Bravo snaps.

“Watch it,” Jimmy snaps back. 

Unbothered, Tango glances around the cavern. “So wait, you- it’s only been like, what, a- a couple weeks since you respawned here, how- where did you get all these supplies?”

“Eh, found a new sponsor.” Bravo shrugs. “You know, I was probably only a few more days away from gettin’ my portal up and running ‘til you guys showed up. But it worked out nice this way, right?” There’s a manic light in his eyes. “I- I was gonna get my vengeance on you once I got back to the overworld, but instead, we can do it right now.”

That’s all the warning he gives before he attacks.

He’s fast, faster than Tango’s expecting. It’s all he can do to shove Jimmy out of the way, diving into a roll that brings him quickly back to his feet. He only brought one sword; he pulls it from his inventory and throws it to Jimmy without a second thought, because he doubts Jimmy prepared at all before coming through the portal and swords have always felt clumsy in his hands. There’s a reason traditional PVP has never been his strong suit.

The sword has barely left his grasp before Bravo’s springing at him again.

Screech!

Tango brings his claws up in time to catch Bravo’s blade between them. The force of the blow shudders through his arms. Bravo’s strong, too- stronger than Tango would think for a non-hybrid version of himself.

“Stop it!” Tango huffs. “We don’t wanna fight you!”

“Too bad!” Bravo sneers.

Well, if that’s what he wants. Tango ducks under the sword and brings a hand up to slash at Bravo’s face. Bravo disengages, darting backwards, out of reach- he readjusts his grip for another swing.

“Hey, lay off!”

Jimmy charges into the fray; Bravo pivots mid-swing to block Jimmy’s blade, the clang of metal reverberating through the cavern. He leans into the movement, bringing his leg up to deliver a swift kick to Jimmy’s side.

With a pained grunt, Jimmy stumbles, off-balance. Bravo raises his sword to slash again- but Tango rushes him, forcing him back. Claws swipe through empty air.

“Gotta do better than that,” Bravo tuts, flicking his sword out to nick Tango’s cheek.

The sharp pain and sudden scent of blood is disorienting. Tango lunges forward almost blindly, a snarl catching in the back of his throat. Rage bubbles inside him, and he can feel his fire trying to respond- but with the wither rose in his system, it’s like throwing a match into a well.

Bravo deftly steps around him. “There’s that famous Tango temper again!” he taunts. “Go on, show us exactly how much of a monster you are.” 

The words sober Tango instantly. He swallows back his rage; the last thing he wants to do is lose control like he did back at the ranch, especially when Jimmy could get hurt. His fire may be dampened, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Then his ears twitch at a furious shout- Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!”

In the same moment, Tango moves to block Bravo’s escape route, aiming for his hands in an attempt to disarm him.

But Bravo’s ready for them both. 

He ducks beneath Tango’s claws and side-steps Jimmy’s attack, jabbing the pommel of his sword into Tango’s gut as a parting blow. Wings flailing, Jimmy pulls up short to avoid slamming into Tango- and yelps as Bravo’s sword cleaves a handful of feathers into the air.

“Come on!” Bravo goads them. “That the best you can do?”

Tango hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually observe Bravo fight during the Hels Tek invasion, and he’s sorely regretting it now. It’s clear Bravo’s got more experience with PVP than either of them. And not the type of casual sparring between friends, but genuine life-or-death fighting- fast, messy, and brutal. Even being two against one isn’t helping them much; Bravo keeps on the move, twisting through and around them with a practiced ease that leaves them struggling not to accidentally hit each other.

A detached part of Tango’s mind runs through their options. Being killed and ending up at the world spawn would be the worst-case scenario; they’d basically be gift-wrapped for Atlas to come snatch up. But he doesn’t think joining through a hacked portal would reset their spawns; after all, the Hels Tek invaders wound up back in Hels after they were killed. Of course, he’d rather not find out for certain. And if he ends up respawning back to Double Life, his entire goal in coming here alone goes up in smoke. He won’t get another chance at this- the other Double Lifers will insist on putting themselves in danger to help him, ‘cause they’re annoyingly kind like that, and everything will turn into a big flaming ball of disaster.

So it’s really in his best interest not to get killed right now.

Except, he can’t help but notice that Bravo actually doesn’t seem to be trying to kill them. Most of what he’s aiming for are non-vital structures- arms, legs, Jimmy’s wings. When he does land an attack above the belt, it almost seems like he’s holding back, leaving only shallow gashes or a blunt hit with a skillfully thrown fist, knee, or elbow.

And despite clearly being the superior fighter, he’s mainly staying on the defensive. He isn’t taking nearly as many swings as he could. It’s an endurance game, Tango realizes- he’s trying to tire them out. But why? He’s on his own, it’s not like he’s stalling for reinforcements. There’s nowhere for them to go. That is, nowhere except-

Tango’s gaze falls on the pit at the bottom of the dropchute.

Oh. Oh, that’s-

Wham!

Pain explodes through Tango’s skull.

Bravo’s taken advantage of Tango’s brief lapse in concentration, landing a solid punch on the side of his face. It’s enough to make him black out for a moment, every thought in his brain screeching to a halt. When he comes back to himself, his cheek is pressed against the floor, made warm and sticky with his pooling blood. There’s a faint ringing in his ears- above it, he can barely make out the sound of swords clashing somewhere in front of him.

Tango manages to lift his head, blinking spots from his vision.

Bravo is driving Jimmy back- back towards the center of the room where the pit is. Tango opens his mouth to scream a warning, but he’s too late. As they near the edge of the pit, Bravo suddenly steps under Jimmy’s guard, hooking a leg behind Jimmy’s foot as one hand comes up to twist his sword out of his grip. Bravo’s other arm slams against Jimmy’s chest, knocking him off-balance.

Jimmy falls backwards with a shout, into the pit of cobwebs. He doesn’t fall very deep, of course- that’s not how cobwebs work. But he is immediately stuck, wings and limbs straining as he slowly begins to sink.

“Jimmy!” Tango cries, his heart jolting. 

Oh, this is bad. Getting out of cobwebs without a sword, while slowly falling through them, will be almost impossible. Especially since Jimmy’s feathers are particularly prone to sticking to that stuff and every movement will cause him pain as he pulls on them.

“There.” Satisfied, Bravo stows Jimmy’s sword in his inventory before turning back to Tango. “Now we can finally finish this.”

“No!” Jimmy pleads desperately from the pit, already disappearing from view. “Leave ‘em alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him,” Bravo tuts as he approaches Tango. “That- I mean, that’d just send you back home, right? Hacked portals don’t do the whole spawn reset-ification thing, as it turns out.” He shakes his head. “No, I- what I’m gonna do is arrange a little meeting with our old buddy Atlas to come pick you up, okay, and- and then I’ll finally get him off my back and be able to leave this fucking place for good.”

Terror shoots through Tango. If Atlas comes here, with Jimmy trapped like this…

Head pounding, Tango struggles to get to his feet. “Y- you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “I know I messed up, a- and I’m sorry, okay? But Jimmy had nothin’ to do with it, he- you have to let him go, please.”

Bravo’s lip curls. “I’m not gonna let Atlas get him. Believe it or not, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let another overworlder get trapped here.”

Despite the severity of the situation, the offended disdain in his tone makes Tango snort. “Oh, sorry, uh- excuse me for thinkin’ you’d ever do such a terrible thing,” he rasps. “I- I mean, you can’t blame me, right? You- it’s not like you’ve made a great impression.”

Bravo’s eyes darken with anger, and then his fist is in Tango’s stomach. The punch makes Tango double over, gasping for breath- then a well-placed kick throws him back against the wall, pain crashing through his ribs.

“What’re you doin’?!” Jimmy’s panicked voice sounds from the pit- he’s sunken far enough down that he can’t see them anymore. “Don’t hurt him!”

Bravo ignores him, stalking forward to grab Tango by the front of his shirt. “You’re one to talk, you piece of shit,” he hisses in Tango’s face, reeling back for another hit.

Crack.

This one lands the hilt of his sword against Tango’s jaw. Bravo drops him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Tango!” Jimmy’s scream sounds far away.

Everything is pain. With no small amount of effort, Tango pushes himself upright, breathing raggedly through his nose. He can feel blood trickling down his chin from his split lip, can taste it stained against his teeth. His head aches. His body is shaking. There’s a cold pit of dread in his stomach, and he knows that he’s lost this fight.

But more than that, deep down, there’s the realization that maybe… he always expected to.

(It’s not like coming here without Jimmy would’ve changed the outcome. No matter what Tango said or did, Bravo was always going to react this way- why would Tango think anything different? Despite his intention to extend the olive branch, he knows Bravo wouldn’t have been satisfied to just let bygones be bygones.

Truthfully, Tango had been prepared for this the moment he saw that red light fill their portal. Bravo had nailed it right at the start; this was always going to be a mission of self-sacrifice. If giving himself up meant placating Bravo and Hels Tek, if it meant that the people he cared about would be safe, then Tango had been willing to accept it. Even if it meant going back to the farm for the rest of his life.

He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.)

Bravo looms over him, a mad, triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your days in that farm where you belong,” he says lowly, “and out of the life you stole from me. You’re nothin’ but an evil monster, and it’s what you deserve.”

A strange feeling settles over Tango.

It’s like déjà vu, to sit here and listen to his doppelgänger repeat all the horrible things Tango’s believed about himself almost his entire life, all the things he’s told himself in the mirror time and time again. It’s his words spoken in his voice out of an eerily similar face, as if all his deepest insecurities have taken form.

It’s achingly, hauntingly familiar. Like a knife tracing over old scars.

And yet, there’s something odd about hearing it from another person. To hear such hatred and conviction in that voice, to see it so plainly in his eyes. Tango’s well aware that there are plenty of players who feel the same way- not just about him, but other hostile mob hybrids, too. He’s no stranger to prejudice; he’s noticed the wary looks and distrustful glares he’s gotten on public multiplayer worlds before.

Hell, Atlas is attempting to build an empire on the very concept of oppressing hybrids, and he’s had plenty of help to do it. Not just his fellow redstone scientists, but sponsors and buyers, too. Lots of players have reason to want Tango in a farm, to exploit and degrade him. But only because they would profit from it- otherwise they wouldn’t bother wasting so much time and energy on him. Sure, Atlas probably hates him to some degree, and is indifferent at best to all the pain he’s been caused. But Tango’s also certain that if he weren’t useful, then Atlas wouldn’t give him a second thought. If he couldn’t be farmed, Atlas would never have come after him in the first place. It’s all about ambition with Atlas; he wouldn’t waste time on petty revenge schemes.

Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.

And with that thought, everything falls into place.

Tango wheezes out a laugh, though he immediately regrets it- fuck, his ribs. “So that’s where I get my sadism from! Good to know, good to know.”

The smirk drops off Bravo’s face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Tango wipes the blood from his face. “I mean, I- we- we’ve established that I’m just a uh, a physical manifestation of all the evil parts of you, yeah? That’s what Hels are? Well, if that’s true, then every bad thing about me is somethin’ I got from you.” He grins, despite the pain of his split lip. “Can’t pour from an empty bottle, right?”

Bravo balks at him. “No, that’s not- it’s different,” he argues. “It’s- this is justified, you took everything from me-”

“So now you’re gonna do the same?” Tango raises his eyebrows. Bracing a hand against the wall, he slowly rises to his feet. “Funny, I- I thought that you were supposed to be a better person than me.”

“I am!” Bravo insists angrily.

Tango shrugs. “Well, you sure ain’t actin’ like it, skippy.”

That seems to take Bravo aback. “I- I don’t-” He rakes a hand through his hair, his breathing quickening. “It’s- it’s you, it’s this fucking place, it’s- I don’t know, it’s every-fucking-thing that’s happened in the last ten years! I- I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting sent here!”

“Hold on, what makes you think I did anything to deserve gettin’ sent here?” Tango asks, genuinely curious. “I was spawned here as a child, I mean, what- what could a child possibly do to ‘deserve’ spawning here? What could any of us have done to deserve this?”

Ooh, Bravo doesn’t like that question. “I don’t know,” he splutters, “I didn’t make you spawn here! That was the universe, it- it must know that you- all you Hels- you’re just destined to be bad.”

Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?”

Bravo makes a sound like he’s been punched. “What?”

“I didn’t make that portal. You didn’t make that portal. We all know that the universe makes portals to Hermitcraft so why-”

“Stop it! It was a mistake! A glitch! I- I was never meant to come to Hels, you-”

“Then how has every other Hermit joined without having the same problem? Huh? Why you? Why us?”

“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!”

“Says who?” Tango asks.

“I just- I have to be in the right!” Bravo protests, throwing an arm out. “I- I’m not like you, I’m not a Hels, I’m supposed to be the good one. If I’m mad, if I wanna hurt someone, it has to be justified, ‘cause I’m not- I’m not cruel.”

Tango just looks at him.

Bravo seems to recognize the irony in his words. It hits him almost like a physical attack; he staggers, eyes widening, face twisting with rage. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me!” he shouts as he raises his sword accusingly at Tango, voice echoing off the cavern walls. “I’m just- I did what I had to do to survive, and- and it ruined me. This world ruined me, and it’s all your fault, you bastard!”

They’re hollow accusations, built from hurt and deflected blame. But it doesn’t occur to Tango to defend himself against them. He couldn’t if he wanted to; all he can do is watch Bravo in stunned silence.

Even without the ability to set himself ablaze, Bravo’s rage is a terrible thing to behold. Tears stream down his reddened face; a mixture of fury and despair, raw and ugly. “It’s not fair!” he wails, almost a breathless scream. “Why did you get to be saved? Why did I have to take your place? What- what did I do?”

He takes another step closer, drawing his sword back, and Tango is suddenly struck by the very real possibility that Bravo is about to kill him.

“You did this to me!” Bravo snarls, wild-eyed and heaving for breath. “You and e- everyone else in th- this fucking hellscape, you- you did this, you-!” 

Bravo lifts his sword for the killing blow-

And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back.

“... fuck. What am I doing?”

Bravo stumbles back from Tango, lowering his sword. He clutches his head with his free hand, a few stray tears streaking down his face as he struggles to control his breathing. His anger seems to have extinguished, finally letting the pain seep through- an expression that Tango knows as intimately as his own reflection.

Tango blinks. 

It’s a complicated rush of emotions. Bravo represents the worst part of Tango’s life coming back to haunt him; his skeleton in the closet. Fueled by prejudice and misplaced blame, he fought tooth and nail to destroy the life Tango had built for himself, brought pain and hardship to a world of strangers who’d done nothing to deserve it. He made a deal with a devil to get what he wanted and didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire. Most of all, despite having a viable way to escape Hels peacefully, he doggedly pursued revenge out of nothing but spite and a twisted sense of justice.

Logically, Tango should hate Bravo as much as Bravo hates him.

But for the first time, Tango tries to imagine what it must’ve been like to be trapped in Hels for ten years and not knowing why.

What Bravo went through is exactly what Tango’s always feared since he escaped; that one day his luck would run out, and he’d lose everything. His peaceful life in the overworld. His freedom. His friends, and the love he found with Jimmy- maybe Bravo had people he cared about before, too. Worst of all, Bravo had already experienced the wonders of the wider universe before having it abruptly taken from him.

Tango had been spawned into cruelty and suffering. He hadn’t known anything different, hadn’t known there was anything beyond Hels that he was missing out on. But Bravo did. Bravo knew what it was to travel between worlds, to explore untainted horizons, to live under the warmth of the sun. He knew cooperation and goodwill between players, the comfort and safety of solo worlds. And then suddenly, he’d been deprived of it all, with no way of knowing if he’d ever get it back.

So if Atlas told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he could blame it all on some mysterious, evil doppelgänger… Tango understands why he’d cling to the notion so fiercely.

It’s an easy thing to blame someone else. Accepting that Tango isn’t to blame for what he’s become means accepting that maybe his understanding of Hels players is flawed, and that he might not have been as good of a player as he thought to begin with. Accepting that Tango wasn’t to blame for stranding him in Hels in the first place would mean accepting that maybe… there wasn’t a reason at all. And that kind of acceptance is paramount to altering his entire worldview.

Tango’s been through that himself, once. It wasn’t a fun process. So right now, watching Bravo fall apart in front of him, he finds that all he can feel is sympathy.

So Tango summons enough strength to step forward and wrap Bravo in a hug.

Bravo recoils at first; the kind of instinctive flinch that Tango knows all too well. A noise catches in his throat- part alarm, part disgust. “What’re you-” He tries to push away, but Tango holds fast.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Bravo freezes. 

The air is still and silent around them, filled with nothing but the faint flickering of torches and Bravo’s shrill breathing. He’s as rigid as stone in Tango’s embrace- his muscles are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, and Tango is almost certain he’s about to receive a sword in the gut but he doesn’t let go, because he remembers what it’s like to live in this world and if he can’t even show his own doppelgänger kindness then he really hasn’t learned anything at all-

The sword clatters to the ground. And Bravo breaks.

He folds into the embrace and begins to sob. He sobs hard, shaking and gasping for breath in between, clinging to Tango like his life depends on it. Tears quickly dampen the collar of Tango’s shirt. It’s different from his earlier furious cries- this is absolute devastation, heart-wrenching and all-consuming. It’s a flood ten years in the making, finally spilling over all the careful walls that Bravo’s built around himself. And now that it’s here, there’s no stopping it.

Tango doesn’t speak. He simply eases them down to sit on the floor- he can’t support both his and Bravo’s weight right now. Bravo practically collapses, body limp, legs curled awkwardly beneath him but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He sags against Tango and cries, and Tango lets him.

It’s slightly bizarre, holding his doppelgänger while he cries. Especially when he was attacking Tango not even two minutes ago. In many ways, it’s a disturbing echo of his own past breakdowns- he can hear himself so clearly in Bravo’s voice, the raw ache of it.

But he’s glad for it. New growth can only happen once the old is torn down. It’s a messy, unpleasant process. It won’t be quick or easy. Bravo has only just taken the first step- he’s still got a long, difficult journey ahead of him. But Tango knows how beautiful it’ll be, to come out through the other side.

And he thinks maybe he needed this, too.

Tango isn’t sure how much time they spend like that. Only when Bravo has finally grown silent, just the occasional sniffle or shaky breath, does Tango sit back enough to meet Bravo’s teary gaze.

“And neither did I,” he continues quietly. “And neither did anyone else who’s ever spawned here, that- that’s the point.”

Bravo sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But… the universe has to spawn you here for a reason,” he insists, his voice small and confused. Like a child.

Tango’s mildly surprised to find he feels no anger- just pity. “Maybe the universe is wrong.”

Distress flashes across Bravo’s face; clearly, he’s never considered that before. He pulls away from Tango but he doesn’t go far, tucking his knees to his chest. “So then... all this pain, all this struggle... was for nothing,” he says miserably. “Everything I went through... a- and everything I did... I- I was so sure there had to be a reason, that I was different from the players here, that I didn’t belong here. But I- I’m fucked up. I used to be a nice person, but…”

“Nice isn’t the same thing as good,” Tango says simply. “And I would know.”

Bravo swallows. “… how did you do it?” he asks hoarsely. “You’re a Hels, why… how come this world didn’t ruin you, too? How did you end up being the good one?”

It’s an exceedingly vulnerable question, without a hint of reproach. Tango hums, leaning back on his arms. “Y’know, I spent a long time in this world. I- I grew up where it’s kill or be killed, murder first ask questions later, everyone’ll sell you out for a piece of rotten flesh. That was just normal. That was expected. If you’d known me back then, I- I would’ve been no different from any other Hels. I set horrible traps for fun. I cost random players, people I didn’t even know, their resources and their lives in an already harsh world, I mean- it wasn’t pretty. But I was a kid.” He glances sidelong at Bravo. “I was just a teenager when Atlas took me in, did you- did he ever tell you that?” 

Bravo’s surprised expression is all the answer Tango needs.

“Nah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Tango sighs ruefully. “But the first person I thought was different- the first person who I thought saw more in me than the capacity for chaos, who offered me a home, a sense of belonging, a purpose... it turned out to be a trick. All of it, a lie. Just to get me into a horrible farm for the rest of my life, suffering constant withering and being harvested for my resources, like- like I was nothin’ more than a mob.” He gives Bravo a half-hearted grin. “You’d think that’d seal it, right? Like, that would just totally destroy any remaining faith I had in playerkind. And uh, it came pretty close, actually. But then I got out.”

He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “The universe created a portal, and I escaped to a world where players were kind. And generous, and… gave you the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t assume the worst, they didn’t judge you based on what you looked like. It was… completely foreign. I took advantage of it at first, I mean, I- I was a total jerk. I’m just lucky they thought it was all in good fun, jokes and pranks and stuff- or, or uh, maybe they did know, and still chose to show me grace, I dunno. What I do know is that after enough time had passed… I changed. My wants, my goals, my- my entire outlook on life changed. Suddenly I wanted to be good, I- I tried so hard to be good. And that only happened ‘cause I got the chance.” 

He meets Bravo’s gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And- and I was an adult at that point, I’d grown up in Hels. I mean, imagine what I might’ve been like if I’d spawned on a normal world, grown up in the normal way. Hell, imagine if any other Hels kid got that chance. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many differences between us. Like, maybe even someone like Atlas could’ve been better.” He shrugs. “And maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he always would’ve grown up to be an asshole. Either way, there’s no way of knowing if they never have the chance.”

Bravo looks pensive, his brows knitted together. “I guess I… never thought of that.”

Tango dares to reach out and put a hand on Bravo’s arm. “I’m sorry you got sent here. If I’d known about it when it happened... well, I- I probably still wouldn’t have said anything, if I’m honest,” he admits. “Like you said, I did what I had to do to survive. But I’m sorry for what you went through, and for what my role in that was. If I’d been brave enough to speak up, maybe we could’a helped you sooner, I dunno.” 

Bravo glances away. “I… understand,” he says haltingly. “It, uh… it doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been actin’, so. You know.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” He huffs a soft laugh. “I mean, if you ask me, that’s way more important than the world we spawn in.”

Bravo looks at him for a moment. His expression is impossible to read. Then determination settles over him, his eyes hardening, before he abruptly gets to his feet. Without a word, he marches over to one of the chests on the floor and rummages through it. Before Tango can say anything, Bravo pulls out an item and tosses it over to him.

Tango catches it, mostly on reflex; it’s a potion of instant health.

“You take that,” Bravo says briskly, stooping over to pick his sword off the ground, “while I go help Jimmy out of there.”

Then he jumps into the pit, slashing through cobwebs on his way down.

Tango blinks. Well, then. Guess that’s decided. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the sweet aftertaste of glistering melon, and rises to his feet. It hasn’t fully restored him, but it’s taken the edge off his fresh injuries and given him enough strength to be a functional player again, and he’s quite satisfied with that for now.

Putting away the empty bottle, he wanders over to the edge of the pit, catching the tail end of Jimmy snapping at Bravo as he approaches.

“- where you’re swingin’ that thing!”

“I’m tryin’ to help! Just hold still-”

“Don’t you tell me to- ouch!”

“You’re makin’ it worse! Hang on…”

Tango’s only just leaned over to look when Jimmy flies out of the pit. His wings are ruffled and there are a few places where it’s obvious that some feathers were pulled out, a few stray bits of cobweb still clinging here and there. But aside from the scrapes and bruises he received during their fight with Bravo, he looks none the worse for wear. He’s been gracious enough to carry Bravo out with him, though he’s quick to dump Bravo back on the ground once they’re clear of the pit.

“Tango!” Jimmy swoops over and nearly knocks Tango over, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, I- I was so worried, are you alright?”

Despite the ache in his bones, Tango hugs him back just as fiercely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, hun,” he reassures Jimmy, voice muffled in the crook of his shoulder.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to curl up in Jimmy’s embrace and fall asleep. Between the fight and his unexpected heart-to-heart with Bravo, he’s physically and emotionally worn out. But even though the immediate threat has been nullified, he knows they aren’t done yet.

Tango pulls back just enough to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “I’m sorry for all this,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup Jimmy’s face. “I thought… if I came here by myself, I’d be protecting you- protecting everyone- from suffering the consequences of my mistake.”

Jimmy covers Tango’s hand with his own. “Did you… did you come here with the intent of givin’ yourself up?” he asks quietly.

Tango winces. “Well, I didn’t- that wasn’t my main goal, no, but uh- I- I knew it was a possibility,” he confesses. “I mean, ideally I would’ve patched things up with Bravo and- and somehow gotten the key from Atlas on my own, but… I was prepared to fail, yeah. I’d accepted it.”

Jimmy looks sad, but not surprised. “Y’know,” he starts softly, “you- you always talk about, uh… not wantin’ to hurt us, not wantin’ us to suffer for your mistakes. But I don’t think you realize that for us, the thought of losin’ you is far worse than whatever else might happen. I mean, I- I’d go through that battle with Hels Tek a hundred times over if it meant not losin’ you. And I know the others feel the same way.”

“Oh.” Tango’s throat tightens. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“I know.” A bittersweet smile spreads across Jimmy’s face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, alright, but you- we’re rather fond of you, mate. So, um… d’you think you could give the self-sacrificial nonsense a rest?”

Despite everything, Tango feels himself grin. “I can try, yeah,” he says, leaning up to give Jimmy a kiss.

(On the inside, Tango is still terrified at how this might turn out. Hels is a dangerous world, and tangling with Atlas and the rest of Hels Tek is no small order. A horrible painful death is the least of his concerns- if Jimmy or any of the other Double Lifers ended up in a farm, Tango would never forgive himself.

But if today taught him anything, it’s that the people he cares about are just as stubborn as he is. No matter what he says or does, they’re going to be determined to help him, because that’s just the kind of players they are. And he could continue to try and fight it, to try and go it alone, but he’s sure they’ll still somehow put themselves in harm’s way.

So rather than fight it, maybe he can accept that they’re able to make their own decisions and take their own risks. And that working with them, rather than against them, might give them all the best chance of having a favorable outcome. They’ll certainly have an easier time dealing with Atlas if they don’t have to worry about Tango pulling another dirty, reckless move like this.)

Behind them, Bravo coughs into his fist. “Uh, hey, are you two done…?”

Jimmy breaks away with a huff of annoyance. “What?” he demands, keeping an arm around Tango’s waist.

“Just thinkin’ out loud here,” Bravo says, holding his hands up, “but uh, you- there’s no way you two are gonna be able to take on Hels Tek alone. I mean, you’ve already lost the element of surprise, I- he’s probably noticed your arrival in chat by now. And Hels Tek is several days away on foot, how- what, are you just- are you just gonna walk there? You’d barely make it a hundred blocks before gettin’ killed, what with your abysmal PVP skills.”

Jimmy scowls at the slight against them, but Tango frowns. “You’re right,” he amends. “I uh, I honestly didn’t have much of a plan besides ‘winging it’ when I came through, I- I was on a bit of a time crunch.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Jimmy asks Bravo pointedly.

Bravo rolls his eyes. “I mean, I just wanna get the fuck out of here. But if you guys are tryin’ to get the key to that collar skadoodler from Atlas, you’re gonna need help.”

“From you?” Jimmy’s distrust is evident in his voice. “Why?”

Bravo crosses his arms, shoulders hunched defensively. “I dunno, I- maybe I feel bad about the part I played in all this and feel like I owe you guys one?”

Jimmy scoffs. “Doubtful.”

Bravo opens his mouth to retort, but Tango intervenes. “Hey, I know you probably couldn’t hear everything from the bottom of that pit,” he tells Jimmy, “but uh, I- I really think we’ve worked it out, now.” He glances over at Bravo, smiling. “I think we can trust him.”

Shock flares in Bravo’s eyes, his expression sobering. He gives a slight nod.

Jimmy purses his lips. “Fine, but I still don’t like it-”

Ca-clunk.

Pistons activate, making all three of them whirl around to face the wall. Tango’s mind is already racing through the different possibilities- maybe Bravo was actually just stalling until backup came, or maybe Atlas was able to track them down on his own, or maybe it’s even a completely random player who stumbled across the base- but that all comes screeching to a halt as soon as he sees the player who steps out into the room.

Because that’s Jimmy.

Or- well- not exactly. It’s obviously not Jimmy because he’s still standing next to Tango. But it’s immediately apparent that, despite the several major differences between them, this is Jimmy’s doppelgänger, his Hels counterpart.

It seems impossible. Or at least, highly improbable, that Jimmy’s doppelgänger would be here, of all places, and now, of all times, when Hels is a massive, infinite world full of nearly infinite players.

But there’s no one else he could be.

“Bravo!” the player calls in Jimmy’s voice. “Did you- oh.” He draws up short when he sees them, seeming just as thrown by this turn of events as they are.

The first thing that jumps out at Tango is how skinny the player is. He’s practically emaciated; despite his tall frame, his limbs are no thicker than Tango’s, his big, watery eyes sunken into a hollow face- a face that, aside from the lack of a crooked nose, is almost identical to Jimmy’s. The large wings that trail behind him are black in color and poorly kept. He’s a lot paler than Jimmy is, too, almost a sickly sort of complexion. His ratty hair is a dull black, and- based on the sharp angles of the ends- was cut short very recently. 

Now Tango knows how Jimmy must’ve been feeling this whole time. It’s fucking weird.

Beside him, Jimmy’s breath catches. He takes a single, tentative step forward- though Tango is quick to throw an arm out in front of him. The player doesn’t look very threatening. He’s barefoot and dressed in rags, carrying no weapon or armor. But Tango’s still on guard. This is an unknown Hels player, after all.

The player stares at Jimmy, entranced. “Oh,” he breathes, a trembling hand coming up to tug on a strand of hair. A jumble of emotions flash across his face, too fast to read. “I see… you must be Jimmy.”

“And you’re Timmy,” Jimmy says softly, dawning realization settling over his features. “Aren’t you? Gosh…”

Tango recognizes the tone of their voices; they’re experiencing the same strange sensation he did, the first time he laid eyes on Bravo. That abrupt and absolute recognition of the self in the other. Despite meeting for the first time, there hadn’t been a doubt in Tango’s mind that Bravo was his doppelgänger. He’d known it as surely as his own name. It was something instinctual, almost primal- grounding and disorienting all at once.

Timmy. That’s the nickname that Grian and some of the other guys call Jimmy. A practical joke played on them by the universe, no doubt, to have spawned with the names they did.

Bravo finally unfreezes. “Timmy! I told you to wait for me to come get you!” he hisses, but Tango can see the guilt and shame on his face. 

“Sorry…” Timmy murmurs distantly, still fixated on Jimmy. “I was just… gosh, I- everythin’ makes sense now…” He finally turns to look at Bravo, and the faint, knowing smile on his face is devastatingly sad. “I… get why I wasn’t good enough.”

Bravo flinches. “No, no I- I didn’t mean-”

“Ey,” Jimmy cuts in, voice gentle but firm as he moves past Tango to approach Timmy. “C’mere, mate, it’s alright. Ignore him a second, hey?” He fans out a wing to block Bravo from view, nonverbally conveying that he’d like a private moment with his doppelgänger.

“Yeah, come on.” Tango takes the cue to grab Bravo by the arm, leading him to the other side of the room. “You- you wanna explain him?” he asks lowly, putting his hands on his hips. “I mean, how- where did you even find him?”

Bravo exhales heavily. “At spawn. Actually, I- we met the first time I ended up at world spawn, all those years ago. Go figure. He- he’d been livin’ there for god knows how long, just… starving to death, over and over again, ‘cause he was too scared to leave.”

Damn.

“Huh.” Tango nods slowly. “So… what were you sayin’ about all Hels being evil monsters…?”

Bravo tenses. “Shut up. He’s different.” He glances over his shoulder at the pair of avians. “I… after I was killed on your world, and- and escaped from Hels Tek, I ended up at spawn. He was still there, and this time… he agreed to come with me, so he could leave Hels with me once I got my portal working.”

“Mhmm.” Tango’s voice is terse, even to his own ears. “You, uh... didn’t happen to keep him around just ‘cause he’s my soulmate’s doppelgänger, did you?”

Bravo winces. “... maybe at first,” he admits. “But then- I dunno, I- I didn’t- things changed, alright?”

Tango folds his arms. “That’s pretty fucked up, to use him as a- a replacement Jimmy.”

“I know, okay?” Bravo hisses, but it’s lacking its usual venom. “I- I’ve had a lotta realizations in the last few minutes, alright? Gimme a break.”

Tango snorts but says nothing else, looking over to check on Jimmy.

He’s speaking to Timmy in low tones, eyes shining with concern. His demeanor is reserved, gentle, nonthreatening- he’s matching Timmy’s curled-in posture, just with less of the anxiety, more reassuring. And it seems to be working; even from this distance, it’s apparent Timmy’s slowly growing more comfortable, less afraid.

Sudden warmth swells in Tango’s chest. It’s overwhelming, meeting your doppelgänger, but Jimmy’s put all those complicated feelings aside to help a player who seems to sorely need it. His experience with Hels players thus far has been nothing but flat-out terrible, and yet it didn’t even occur to him to be wary of Timmy. Some might view that as foolish naivety or ignorance, maybe even stupidity. But to Tango, it’s a testament to Jimmy’s incredible kindness.

He couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.

Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” he asks Bravo, one hand resting protectively on Timmy’s bony shoulder.

Taken back, Bravo looks at Tango, who simply raises an eyebrow.

Bravo swallows. “Look,” he starts hesitantly, “I- I uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, alright? It… wasn’t fair for me to compare you to Jimmy.”

Timmy’s avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with his hands, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

Satisfied for the moment, Jimmy turns to Tango. “We can’t leave him here,” he says, completely resolute. “I- I think we should head back through the portal for now, regroup with the others and come up with a- with an actual plan? So long as we don’t break the portal, we’ll still be able to come back through. Even if he,” he nods at Bravo, “is with us.”

Tango rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Right, right, yeah. I’m- the others are bound to notice we’re gone soon, so we should probably-”

“Oh!” Timmy gasps suddenly, smacking his forehead. “The others, right! Right, sorry, I uh- the reason I came to find you, Bravo, is that a- a whole buncha players just joined the world.” He cringes, apologetic. “I- I think it’s those guys you were tellin’ me about.”

“What?!” Bravo demands, sounding alarmed.

Tango whips out his communicator, eyes widening at the chat. 

The entire Double Life server has joined Hels. Which means they’re probably up by the portal right now, wandering around and looking for him in a dangerous world they’re entirely unfamiliar with, full of hostile mobs, hidden traps, and certain ruthless scientists who’d love to add a few hybrids to their collection.

Shit.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player types furiously on a communicator.

“No,” Atlas calls over his shoulder distractedly, “they won’t be at world spawn. Get me the last coordinates searched by Alisker’s mercenaries, we’ll start from there.”

“Yes, sir,” the scientist says quickly before rushing off.

It’s only been a few minutes since Atlas was alerted to Tango’s arrival in chat- him and one other player. The avian, he thinks. Obviously, this development necessitated that they drop everything and immediately pivot towards an effort to recapture Tango. Amidst giving orders to prepare the flying machines and gather weapons and armor, he’s been frantically trying to reach Alisker via whispers- without looking like he’s too desperate, of course, but he knows that having Alisker’s support in this endeavor will be critical to its success.

All the while, part of his mind is dedicated to puzzling out Tango’s motive.

He had a feeling they’d return to Hels eventually, to try and get the key for Tango’s collar from him. No doubt Tango’s finding its properties rather disruptive to normal life. The only question was whether or not Alisker’s mercenaries would find Bravo before then, allowing them to open a new portal and strike first. The latter option would’ve certainly been ideal, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He’s confident they’ll succeed this way, too.

(Failure isn’t an option. Not again.)

What’s most confusing, however, is that Tango seems to have come without any real backup. The other players from his world were quite formidable as a group; Tango must know that leaving them behind will considerably lower his chances of success. So perhaps he doesn’t intend to confront Atlas at all, and is simply content to live with the collar. After all, he’s still wearing the cuffs, all these years later.

The only way to open a portal to Hels- that they know of, at least- is by using a player’s data to lock onto their counterpart’s coordinates. So Tango must’ve opened a portal to Bravo. Perhaps that’s all his goal is- an attempt to make amends with his doppelgänger and provide an escape from Hels. If that’s the case, then they’re working with a limited time frame.

Because if Bravo leaves Hels with Tango, then Atlas is truly out of viable options. All he’ll be able to do is open random portals to any of Hels Tek’s counterparts in the overworld, giving them access to random worlds that Tango is highly unlikely to inhabit. That won’t satisfy Alisker, and Atlas is already on thin ice as it is. No, they need to move now if they have any chance of-

Chat is suddenly jumping with join messages, and some very familiar usernames.

Ah, there’s the rest of them.

Atlas’s runaway train of thought screeches to a halt. If the other members of that world are here now, then it seems like they’ll be going for the key, after all. Which means he can breathe again. They’ve got a difficult conflict ahead of them, sure, but he rather likes their chances here in Hels. And he’s got a much better idea of what they’re up against this time- they won’t be defeated again so easily.

Oh, and Alisker’s finally returned his message. Yes, things are shaping up quite nicely, indeed.

Atlas quickly makes the arrangements, rising from his chair and heading out of his office. The halls of Hels Tek are bustling with activity as everyone scrambles to get ready. Anticipation bubbles in Atlas’s chest. This is his last chance to be victorious; he won’t rest until Tango is locked back in that farm. And, if he plays this right, he’ll have several new additions to his hybrid-farming initiative as well. Already his mind is racing with ideas..

The minutes pass in a blur. Atlas is standing before the flying machines and barking orders, his voice echoing off the garage’s high ceiling, when his communicator beeps again. He glances down, expecting to see another message from Alisker, and draws up short.

Grian tried to swim in lava.

PearlescentMoon tried to swim in lava.

InTheLittleWood tried to swim in lava.

impulseSV tried to swim in lava.

Smajor1995 tried to swim in lava. 

Etho tried to swim in lava.

ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava.

bigbst4tz2 tried to swim in lava.

Smallishbeans tried to swim in lava.

GoodTimeWithScar tried to swim in lava.

BdoubleO100 tried to swim in lava.

Renthedog tried to swim in lava.

Atlas blinks in surprise. The messages are almost simultaneous; a massive die-off like this can’t be anything other than a trap. How curious...  he knows Bravo is rather fond of setting traps, as Alisker’s mercenaries have discovered firsthand. And if the portal they came through was spawned near Bravo’s location… perhaps this was accidental friendly fire?

Another message flashes.

SolidarityGaming was slain by Bravo.

Oh. Nevermind.

Atlas watches chat with bated breath. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, as of right now, Tango is still alive. And if his hunch is correct…

<Bravo whispered to you> hey. I’ve got an offer for you.

Atlas grins.

~*~

[fleursbending]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼

The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.

You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.

The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.

Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.

It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.

At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.

You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.

It was Ao'nung and his crew.

"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.

"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.

You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.

"No one is here to help you, Y/n."

They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.

"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.

"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.

Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.

Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.

The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.

Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.

"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."

Had it really been that long?

"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.

"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.

You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.

"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.

Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.

"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"

"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.

If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.

That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.

Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:

"We shouldn't push it, not now."

"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.

Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.

Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.

Something's wrong with our daughter.

Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.

Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?

Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.

From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.

They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.

So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.

Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.

If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.

"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.

"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.

"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.

They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.

At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.

Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?

But then it came.

It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.

It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.

Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?

"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.

Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."

Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.

Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.

"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.

He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.

"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.

You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.

"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."

Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.

Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.

Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.

Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.

All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"

And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.

You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.

A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.

All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?

Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.

"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.

"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.

"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."

Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.

"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.

Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.

"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.

Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.

Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.

"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.

"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.

"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.

They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.

It's been a while.

Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.

In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.

She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.

Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.

"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.

Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."

"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.

Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.

Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.

The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.

"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."

Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."

Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.

"It's us against the world." You mumbled.

Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.

Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."

Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"

You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"

"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.

Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.

"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.

"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.

Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.

But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.

"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.

She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.

"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.

"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.

You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.

"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.

"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.

Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.

Our daughter is going to be just fine.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

bonus:

Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.

Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.

Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[russellsppttemplates]

Carrying it all on your shoulders (Daniel Ricciardo)

Juggling two kids without Daniel proved to be harder than you thought

Note: english is not my first language. I don't get requests for Daniel that often, and dad!Daniel is very fun and cute to write!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem associated with motherhood and parenting, exhaustion, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Y/N, are you sure you want to do it? I'll do it no problem", your colleague assured you, "even one of the interns can do it, Y/N! Seriously, go home earlier!", she offered.

"I can do it", you added, crossing over the task you had completed on your post it note and writing two more down, "Sophia just started her ballet class and Alice's nursery had a pantomime today so they're keeping the kids for a little longer", you winked at her, gathering the documents and getting ready to complete the task.

Lately, this was your routine. Drop the girls at school and nursery, head up to work, pick the girls up and drive home before homework, playtime, dinner time and then the bedtime routine. When Daniel was still home, it was usually him doing the school and nursery runs so it wasn't like it added a lot to your routine, but it requires more juggling than you initially thought.

By the time you finished the tasks, you were the only one left, shutting down your laptop and closing all of the doors once you had your belongings all packed into your bag, finally calling it a day and heading to your car.

Picking a very sleepy Alice from nursery and then a pouty Sophia from her ballet class, you tried your best to not bother the youngest one, "how was your class today, princess?", you wondered once you stopped at a red light, turning around slightly so you could look at your daughter's face.

"It was okay", she stated, remaining unusually quiet all the way back home as she looked outside the window.

"I'm going to put Alice down for a little nap and then I'll go and help you with your homework, okay?", you said to Sophia as she set her backpack down near her desk, "I don't have any today", she said, closing the door behind her as you walked to Alice's room, laying her down on the mattress and kissing the top of her head, feeling it warmer than usual.

"Oh, babygirl", you cooed, grabbing the thermometer from the medicine cubby and putting it on her ear, silently hoping it was just you.

A minute later, the result showed she was beggining to develop a fever. Sighing, you stored the thermometer in its box and got the medicine from your bathroom, grabbing the syringe to put it in her mouth when you managed to waker her up without a big fuss.

"I know you don't want this, baby", you cooed as Alice stirred in her sleep, big brown eyes looking up at you with tears welling up on them, "take this for mummy, okay?", you pleaded, "you'll feel better, my love", you said, holding her on your arms so she could fall asleep again.

The tiredness came over you pretty quickly, making you sit on the rocking chair, closing your eyes for a little bit and taking a deep breath. Because she was your second child, you didn't feel like the first time Sophia got sick. While in the first time, you ran around like a headless chicken, ready to bring her to the emergency room and messaging her pediatrician until both your parents' and Daniel's parents assured you and your husband you were doing just fine. So far, she didn't seem to bothered by it, just sleep, so you allowed yourself the moment to rest with her, rubbing her back and showering her with kisses and a good cuddle.

"Mummy?", Sophia asked, knocking on the door of her sister's room to announce she was coming in, "what are we having for dinner?", she asked, taking in the sight of you and her sister.

"Oh", you noted, not having given it much thought until that moment, "we can have spaghetti bolognese, I'll just have to boil some pasta - I think we still have some of those heart shapes pastas daddy brought home the other day -, or we could have some chicken nuggets and rice if you prefer that", you offered, thinking of the meal plan meals you had in the fridge as you didn't feel like cooking everything from scratch tonight.

"The spaghetti bolognese is fine", she whispered, coming closer to you and kissing her sister's hand, "is Alice sick?", she questioned.

"She has a bit of a fever, it's probably something she picked up from in nursery, you used to get these every now and again, too", you explained, brushing the curls away from her eyes, "she'll be fine though. Are you feeling okay, beautiful girl?", you checked with her, wanting to be prepared in case both kids came down with this bug.

"I feel fine", she assured you, kissing your cheek before she saw you get up and grabbing the sling, wrapping her sister against you, "do you want to help me with the pasta then?", you smiled, stretching your hand so she could grab it and you both could head to the kitchen.

"I'll set the plates", Sophias offered, making you kiss the top of her head as a thank you and going back to stirring the pasta while the sauce warmed up in another pot.

You ate the food in a quieter environment that usual, and while the reasonable voice in your head told you that it was due to the fact that everyone was a little tired, the snarky and mean one made you feel guilty.

As you washed up the pots and plates from dinner while Sophia spent some time watching cartoons on TV, your mind took you to the mom guilt feelings, rewinding back to all of the times in the last two weeks where you didn't spend time with either of them separately, all of the times where you had to rush to get out of the house all in one piece and all of the things you weren't doing well.

"Soph", you called, "I'm going upstairs to put Alice down, is there anything I can do for you before I go?", you wondered.

"Can I have your phone so I speak to daddy, please?", she asked, "he hasn't called today", she reasoned, "take it from my pocket, bub", you said, tuning your back to her slightly so she could retrieve the device from the denim material, "call me if you need anything, okay?", you checked with her, "okay, mummy! Night night, Alice, I love you", she waved at her sister who blew her a sloppy kiss.

Sitting down on the sofa, Sophia pressed Daniel's contact, smiling at the love heart on the contact despite having seen it many times before, "hey!", Daniel said, a little surprised to see the little girl's face instead of yours.

"Hi daddy!", she smiled, "mummy is putting Alice to sleep so I thought I'd talk to you for a bit", she said, "I have something to tell you".

"Oh, okay, tell me then", Daniel concerned, sensing that what your daughter wanted to tell him was something troubling her.

"I'm confused", she began, "do you remember that book you and mummy read to me and Alice? The one with the monster who is now doctor?", she tried as Daniel nodded.

Anna Llenas was one of your favourite authors for kids' stories and you always read them to your family. The way they spoke about their emotions and how to deal with them became a great tool to get them to talk openly about how they felt and Sophia seemed to be getting it.

"Yes, baby, what about it?", Daniel asked.

"I feel confused, because today I didn't really want to go to the ballet practice but I did it anyway", she said, "so I was really quiet and my friends noticed it, the teacher, too. And mummy, I think she's upset with me, too", she admitted.

"Well, do you remember what the turtle nurse did in the book?", Daniel questioned, "she had her first aid box full of things that make her heart feell warm and good", Sophia mumbled, "go and get it then, princess", Daniel urged.

Sophia pulled the box from under the sofa. The premise of the activity on the book as simple: the kids had to make a box full of things that helped them regulate their emotions and feelings when they felt confused, sad or anxious. While Alice was still too little to make one, Sophia loved the arts and crafts aspect of it and spent the whole afternoon with Daniel making her perfect first aid kit.

"Do you remember what we do with the bee drawing?", Daniel guided, "we take a big breath in, and then a big breath out", he exemplified, doing it three more times with her before speaking up again, "do you feel better?".

"I do, daddy", she said, fishing out something out of the box, "this is the pillow we made with mummy, she sewed it with my favourite soft fabrics", she smiled at the memory, rubbing it on her cheek, "and a picture of us, look!", she showed Daniel the frame with the picture of the first race Alice attended, the four of you in front of the motorhome with big smiles.

"That's right baby, we can also dance it out a little if you want", Daniel offered but she shook her head, showing him the empty bottle of medicine, "this is the 'No medicine', right?", she checked with him. The bottle was of course empty, but the idea was there.

"That's right! Sometimes we have to say no when we don't want to do some things", Daniel advised, remembering the story well enough without having the actual book in front of him, "to adults, we have to be more careful because there are things that we can't run from, but for your ballet classes, for example, you can say you don't want to go if you don't want to, sweetie", he told her earnestly.

"Okay daddy", she whispered, taking another deep breath with her finger following the wavy bee line on the drawing.

"Promise you'll tell me or mummy whenever that happens?", he asked, "I promise, daddy", she smiled, seeming calmer and happier now.

"That's great, Soph. I'm very proud of you for telling me that", he complimented, "Can I ask you about mummy, princess? Is she still upstairs?", he checked with her, not wanting her to think he didn't care about her anymore.

"Yes, daddy", Sophia smiled before pouting, "she's a little tired, and yesterday I think she was crying. I know I wasn't supposed to be up, but I forgot Snuggles by the door", she explained, mentioning her stuffed teddy that she loved to sleep with, "and when I went to pick it up, I heard mummy sniffling, she was doing it quietly but I heard it still", she told him.

Your daughter confirmed his suspicions. Before he left, you spoke about how you were going to handle two kids and your job, and while at the time it seemed good, the practical side of the conversation looked to be otherwise. He called everyday and he noticed you looking more tired each day, but he justified it on the adjustment. Eventually, there would be a day that you finally adapted to the routine, but that was wishful thinking.

"Soph, are you still on the phone with daddy?", you called from the corridor, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb Alice in the sleep you worked so hard in getting her to.

"Hey, gorgeous", Daniel said as you appeared on the screen as Sophia handed you your phone back, "I'm going to get ready for bed, mummy, I'll wait for you when you can read my bedtime story", she smiled, kissing you cheek and saying goodbye to Daniel.

"How was your day?", he asked, "busy busy, but it's over now. Things are going at full speed. Sophia was a bit quieter when she arrived, but she seemed better - no need to rub it in that she's a daddy's girl -, and Alice has caught the bug that has been going around", you shrugged your shoulders, "her temperature is slowly cooling down, and other than that, she's fine", you sighed, "and yours?".

Daniel told you about his meetings, not wanting to pester you too much as he could sense the tiredness you felt, "I'll let you go rest, though. Have a good night, gorgeous", he blew you a kiss before your face disappeared.

Opening his laptop, he looked for a flight that would make him arrive just in time for school pick up, "I can't stay for the rest of the week", Daniel said to the members of the team on the meeting room, "Y/N and the girls need me back home, so if that's okay with you, we'll do these remotely", he half stated, looking for any signs of discontentment or disagreement.

As soon as he got the green light, he couldn't wait to finish that sponsorship content meeting, filming everything he needed to as quickly as possible before bidding goodbye to everyone, going back to the hotel room and pack everything up so he could go to the airport. A long flight away from his wife and kids and all would be well.

Alice didn't sleep all that well, and in turn neither did you, so you called in to work to let them know that you would be working from home as best as you could since your little girl was staying home for the day. Sophia seemed well that morning when you dropped her off at school, soothing your heart from the worries that had plagued you.

"It's me and you, baby girl", you said, kissing the top of her head as she slept on the sling, her fist grasping the fabric of your cardigan as you walked around the house, hoping to really settle her when you heard a car outside.

"Why does that look like daddy?", you mumbled out loud as if Alice could give you her opinion, focusing on the man walking up to the front door and giving you enough time to open it.

"Before you say anything, I had to do it and I won't go back", Daniel raised his hands once he set his luggage inside, closing the door behind him and kissing the top of your head and then Alice's as you stood there surprised.

"Danny, we didn't- I-", you tried, and as if your mouth wouldn't let you lie, the words didn't seem to come out of you.

"I came as soon as I could, and I should've come sooner", he said, "I want to be here for you as much as I can and I need to make sure my girls are okay - all three of them", he looked at you, "Soph told me she heard you crying", he stated as he got you to sit on the sofa in the living room.

"Another point for the greatest mother of the year award", you chastised yourself, taking a deep breath to level out your emotions.

"No, none of that", Daniel offered sternly, "you have been juggling everything on your own and it's harder that we originally thought it would be. I'm sorry it took me so long to come", he apoligised, hands undoing the sling so he could get Alice to rest against his chest instead.

"It's been a lot - and frankly, I haven't been very good at delegating at work", you chuckled, smiling at the delicious sight of a sleeping child on Daniel's chest.

"You also need the 'No medicine' Soph has in her box", he giggled despite the seriousness of the conversation, "I can see that you haven't slept all that much, so why don't you go and have a good sleep?", he suggested, "we'll talk a little bit more about this afterwards, but you need to rest first", he said, "I'll go and pick up Sophia, so you just stay here and take care of yourself, okay?", he said, tapping your butt playfully to get you to get up and head to your bedroom.

While you caught up on sleep, Daniel tidied the house as much as he could before picking up Sophia, who excitedly ran up to her father when she saw him and his sister on the parking lot, "Is mummy with you, too?", she wondered, "no, mummy is resting at home. We are going to get some food for dinner so we can all have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he questioned, earning cheers from her and her sister who qas thankfully feeling much better, giggling in delight as she clapped her hands.

"Who's that? That's mummy, isn't she looking pretty today, Alice? Yes, she is!", Daniel said as you walked into the kitchen, Sophia's notebook open on the table as she wrote on it, "she didn't want to leave the kitchen and I wanted to make pancakes for their snacks, so we found a middle ground", your husband justified himself.

"It's okay", you smiled, kissing everyone's cheeks and tapping Alice's nose, "well, I'm glad you're feeling better, little miss", you said.

"Also, I'm in charge of dinner. I spoke to the people on your team - I'm their boss' husband so I sort of have some power too", he joked, "and they're going to delegate the work these next few days so you can stay home to rest and just work a teeny tiny little bit. I also plan on doing the school pick ups and cooking", he smiled, proud of his plans.

"I'm okay to help, too, Daniel, really", you tried, "no need for that, like I said! I'm going to take charge of the next few days, there's no reason why I can't and it's going to be great", he giggled, "we're in this together, darling, and there's no way you're carrying this all on your shoulders".

[cheeseceli]

Sides of SKZ they only show around their s/o

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff and maybe a little bit of angst

A/n: idk if that makes sense and I'm sorry if it happens to be repetitive but ! I liked to write it so yeah. As always, not proofread

Bang Chan - He's Reckless

Being the eldest sibling, eldest member and the leader of stray kids, Chan became pretty much a parental figure for many. He's always looking out for everybody, making sure everything is okay and dealing with any problem. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job and the people in his life, but sometimes it's exhausting to take care of everything. When he met you though, everything changed. He feels that he can let go. He can be reckless and ask for attention some times. Because, for once, there's someone taking care of him.

Lee Know - He's scared

Usually, he is a confident and even cocky guy. With you though, he is scared. Scared that he might lose you. Scared that his job or personality might scare you. Scared that someone out there is better than him and you'd soon find out. He can't bear to lose you, he doesn't want to imagine a life without you in it. So he'll fight each one of his fears if that means you'll be with him till the very end.

Changbin - He doesn't care

I feel like he always wants to give people the right impression. He wants to say the right thing, behave the right way and hope people will be always satisfied. But suddenly he doesn't care that much anymore. Because he already managed to impress you and you're more than satisfied. Above all of that, you love him. People's opinions are not that important after all.

Hyunjin - He's aware

Always an artist, he knew how to appreciate the beauty in the world since a young age. But since he fell for you every moment seems like an epiphany. The autumn leaves are beautiful, falling with grace. The old lady talking to a kid brings tears to his eyes for an unknown reason. He realises how the breeze is refreshing and how he loves you dearly. He thinks for a second that maybe you're the one who brought life to this world, and he is so happy that he can see all this beauty when he's with you.

Han - He doesn't think

Most of the time, he's too self conscious about his actions and his words, like he needs to be super cautious with everything. Self doubt and overthinking is part of his routine at this point, except when you're with him. You're his safe place. Whenever you're with him, he just does or says whatever he thinks and is never scared you'll judge him, because he knows you never would.

Felix - He's protective

He has a kind nature. He usually doesn't look up for confrontation and is always gentle. But then you came to his life as the most precious treasure he ever saw and now he wants to protect it. Because you're the light of his life and he'll fight anything and anyone if that means you'll be safe. He would happily be your knight in a shining armour if you asked him.

Seungmin - He's vulnerable

Most people only see his "mean" personality or how he doesn't show a lot of affection towards others. We all know he actually is really caring but when it comes to you he's also vulnerable. He doesn't care if one can perceive him as "weak", and he's not scared of oversharing by accident. When he's with you, he's made of glass, but he doesn't mind as he knows you'd never break him.

I.N - He's perfeccionist

You're the best thing to ever happen to him and he is aware of that. He wants to give his all to you and he wants you to be treated like royalty. So he is always trying his best to make sure you're treated like one. He always wants everything to be perfect, because he believes that perfect is still so little compared to what you truly deserve.

Feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[catcze]

NO BC LISTEN.

WIRO REACTING TO HIS CRUSH/LOVER WEARING A SUIT. LIKE IT FITS THEIR FRAME SO PERFECTLY AND SNUGLY AND WDYM “WHY IS HE LOOKING” OFC HE’S LOOKING LIKE HELLO???

I can’t tell if he would shameless let his eyes roam or would avoid looking at them KDIDKSKSK WIRO BRAINROT IS SO REALL

KAJNSDSA BROOO OMG okokokok something along the lines but 👀

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

You're fiddling with the cuffs of your suit as you exit the changing room, a frown on your face. You're nervous— of course you are! It's not often that you're invited to a high-profile, black-tie event like this, and you'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb.

Wriothesley, who sits comfortably in a plush armchair, has been invited before though. But time and time again he's turned down the invites with some of the most ludicrous excuses. 'A monster is attacking the fortress' is one of his most used ones, closely followed by 'a bird shat on the shoulder of my suit.' But you wonder why he's accepted this time, despite his distaste for the limelight. Well, you shrug, pocketing the thought for later. At least you won't be going alone.

"What do you think?" You pose the question to him, still frowning as you look down at yourself. Did you look okay? Was the fit alright? Did this color wash you out? You had splurged on this (well. Wriothesley splurged on this, technically. He had said it's a gift) and had the suit custom-done, so it should fit your measurements to an exact, but... you frown, not able to shake off the nerves.

And it doesn't help that Wriothesley hasn't said anything since you've stepped out, either. Merely stares at you, eyes roaming your figure. Even at your question, he acts like he hadn't even heard it. Does the suit look that bad?

"Wrio?"

That seems to reach him, and he blinks, finally registering that he's been staring at you— and that you've begun to stare back.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, it looks nice on you. The tailor did a very good job," he says, glancing away, hoping you don't see the red tinge to his cheeks or his ears.

"Really?" You ask, evaluating yourself in the mirror with a frown. "I don't know. I feel like I look like a mess."

"if you look like a mess, then I dread to think what I look like," he says, glancing at you for a second, getting an eyeful of you in that damn good suit, and feels his mouth dry up again. Wriothesley turns his eyes to the corner of the room, finding the fake palm plant there incredibly interesting. Barely more interesting than you. In that very flattering suit. It emphasizes your body very well, he thinks. Makes him see just enough of you while still leaving some to the imagination. And the color you chose for it... red and black, to match what he'll wear, you said. He sighs, troubled, because just the mere memory of it has his heart racing and his palms sweating.

You keep criticizing your reflection for a while longer, and it takes just enough time for Wriothesley to work up the self-control to look your way. "You look good," he says at last. Then clears his throat. His face feels hot. "Better than good, even. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise."

It placates you, because you finally give your own reflection a rest. You back away from the mirror, humming. "If you say so. Thank you, Wrio," you tell him, flashing him a small, shy smile just before you back up into the changing room once more to take it off.

Once you're out of the vicinity, Wriothesley drops his head into his palms, groaning softly.

if he's this much of a mess around you at a fitting, he wonders how much of a fool he could make himself at the actual event.

[cevansbrat0007]

Thirst Trap

Summary: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you.

Warnings: Ari Being A Menace, Implied Stalking, Smut, Brat!Reader, Arguments, Jealous/Possessive Behavior, Biting, Light D/s Overtones, Slight Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Punishments (mentioned), Hair Pulling, Discussions of Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Any minute now.” Ari grumbles to himself as he glares down at a display of brightly colored bell peppers while he waits for you to move on to a different part of the store. 

You’ve been lingering in the produce department for the better part of ten minutes now. In fact, it’s your second time over here, what with you having doubled-back to switch out some of the strawberries you’d originally grabbed in favor of several containers of blueberries.

Or, perhaps raspberries. Maybe blackberries and – nope. You appeared to be solidly set on those damned blueberries. Thank God.

It wasn’t so much Ari being impatient with you as it was him ready to leave the store. If he was being honest, you most likely weren’t even aware that he was here. And if you had noticed, then you were doing a fantastic job of ignoring him.

Frankly, he was surprised that a member of Herb & Twine’s loss prevention team hadn’t approached him by now. Especially since he had yet to actually put anything in his cart. The same cart he’d been pushing around for the better part of a half-hour. 

At this point, Ari Levinson was growing suspicious of his own damn self. Starting with the fact that every day he woke up more and more addicted to you – your voice, your smile, your touch.  

And that body. Fuck! 

You had no idea just how many nights he had lain awake thinking of those gorgeous curves, his hand fisted around his cock desperate for a little relief. You were a permanent fixture in his mind these days. And you had no fucking clue. 

Just like you had no fucking clue that you were drawing the attention of practically every man in this place who still possessed the ability to get it up. 

All thanks to a pair of cutoff denim shorts. They fit your ass so good it was damn near disrespectful. And sweet heavenly fuck were they short! Everytime you moved he was treated to a glimpse of those tempting curves. 

Shit set his teeth on edge. Because while he was thrilled that you were feeling confident enough to show off your curves, there was another, more primal, part of him that hated the fact that you were showing off what belonged to him.

Mine.  

That one word dances through his brain, making him wish that he could simply toss you over his shoulder and carry you off to some remote location. Maybe punish you for daring to wear that outfit in public without your man by your side. 

So now, instead of focusing on his own shopping, he’s been forced to follow you around the store. Staying just out of sight, of course. Which wasn’t easy. It was tough to be stealthy when he constantly found himself being mesmerized by the sway of your hips.

In his defense of his stalker ways, he’d been ready to identify himself from the moment he laid eyes on you. But since he was already in a foul mood – because you hadn’t called him like you said you would – he decided to pretend to run into you at the check-out lane instead. 

Until Ari had caught a couple young punks, whose barely-there mustaches were entirely too wispy for his liking, checking out your ass for a few seconds too long. And what pissed him off more than anything else is that you appeared oblivious to all of it.

You were too busy living in your own little world, sashaying your way through the grocery store, with your sweet ass on display. An ass that belonged to him.

Just like you did, beautiful Bird. 

“Time to move it along, fellas.” Ari grunts, none-too-gently nudging their cart with his own. “We’re here to shop, not to gawk at the pretty ladies.”

What were their names again? Charley and Dirk? More like Beavis and Butt-Head, if he were being honest.

“Ain’t no laws against admiring.” Dirk responds as he elbows his buddy in the ribs. “I’m telling you, man. I don’t think she’s as stuck up as everyone lets on.” 

Ari also agrees with that assessment of you, even though he doesn’t say anything. Because they were right. You were so much more than what the folks in this town had initially led him to believe.

“Nah. That bitch once gave me shit for throwing away a bunch of my sister’s old books instead of donating them or whatever the fuck she said she does.” Comes Charley’s retort, a smirk firmly plastered on his lips.  

“So what? Maybe she just needs to get laid. I bet if I – hey!”  

 Ari interrupts the young men, ramming their cart again with a bit more force this time. “I meant what I said. Now you can either move it along, or I can escort you out the door myself. Up to you.”

“But we ain’t even done anything wrong, Levinson!” One sputters as the other takes a tentative step back.

“Harassment is a crime anywhere, boys. Even in bumfuck towns like this one.” The imposing bounty hunter dips his head knowingly, baring his teeth as he does. “Now, do I need to retrieve my cuffs? And because I’m passionate about the law, I always carry two pairs.” 

Shaking their heads “no”, both of them turn and quickly hasten away, continuing to mutter under their breaths as they do. Which is fine by him. Because whether they knew it or not, they’d just made Ari’s personal shit list. Which meant they’d do well to stay out of his way for the foreseeable future.

But you, on the other hand…you two were about to have words. As soon as he tracked you down again.

Ari searches high and low for you for several minutes, continuously walking the aisles hoping to catch a glimpse of you. But unfortunately for him, his search turns up empty. Which then leads him out to the parking lot, just in time to see you hang a left off the property.

What on earth possessed you to walk here? And better yet, where the fuck was your car?

“Swear to God, you need a damned keeper.” He grumbles as he makes a beeline for his own vehicle. Throwing himself inside, he slams the door and guns the engine before peeling out of the lot. “Might as well be a full-time job.”  

Although you’re moving quickly, it doesn’t take long for him to catch up with you. You all-but jump out of your skin when he pulls out next to you. But instead of apologizing for scaring you like he normally would, he finds himself ready to rip you a new one on account of the fact that you’re wearing fucking headphones.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Ari snarls, his gruff tone taking you slightly aback.

“I mean I don’t think so.” You sniff, temporarily halting your steps so you can peer at him through the passenger window. “But the day is young and I just got some new inventory that’s been on back-order for a while so…” You muster up a cheeky smile, even as you feel yourself beginning to sweat. “I guess anything is possible.”

Damn this early summer heat. Between the stickiness in the air and your thighs rubbing together, you were ready to sit down. But first you had to make it back to the shop in one piece.

“Get in the car, Bird.” Your occasional bed-partner’s no-nonsense tone instantly has your hackles raised as he puts the truck in park. 

“Why?” You ask, not bothering to hide your suspicion.

“Get in the damn car.” Ari repeats, his left hand squeezing the steering wheel so hard you worry he might rip it clean off the dash. 

“Say please.” Sometimes Mr. Levinson seemed to forget the importance of manners.   

“Fucking damn it, woman!” He barks, before exiting his ride and jogging around the side to yank open the door closest to you. “Baby,” he tries again, his fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We can do this either one of two ways. Either you can get in the car on your own like a good girl, or I can put you in it myself.”

You shoot him a glare, suddenly wishing you had purchased something a little heavier than fresh fruit and whipping cream from Herb & Twine in preparation for this very moment. That way you might have a better chance of knocking some much needed sense into his thick skull.

“And I take it there isn’t a third option?” You venture, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Bird, I’m so glad you asked.” This time Ari finally sees fit to offer you a smile. Too bad there’s nothing friendly about it. “Option three involves me bending you over the hood of my truck and tanning all that ass you’ve got hanging out of your shorts for being dumb enough to walk to the damned store instead of taking your car.   

“I am not dumb!” You hiss, feeling the bite of his anger. “I just had to grab the stuff I needed to make popsicles.”

“Then what do you call it?” He growls, snagging a hold of your bags. “Because last time I checked, we’ve got a man on the run who just might be a fucking killer. And you decide that it’s a good time for a goddamned stroll.”

Those words have you instantly deflating. Just because this man in front of you had a way of getting under your skin sometimes didn’t make him any less right. While you had viewed your quick trip to the store as an easy way to stretch your legs and get some fresh air, someone else might take that opportunity to see you as a target. Which meant that you had almost royally fucked up.

“Okay.” Is all you can manage before handing him the rest of your belongings. “I assume you know how to get back to Baubles & Quills?”

“I do. Just like I knew you’d see it my way.”

It’s only a ten-minute ride to your shop. But thanks to your asshole companion, it might as well have been an hour. And at this point you were fucking fuming. 

“Thanks for the lift, Ari.” You snarl, shutting the car door with your hip and marching towards the front door of your shop. “But I can handle myself.” Fishing out your keys, you make quick work of unlocking the door and all but tossing your groceries inside. They land with a dull thunk, the contents spilling out of the bags and onto the floor.

The gall of this man! Acting as if he had the right to bark orders at you because you’d slept together once or twice. Alright, it was more like five. But no more. After today you were done. 

Especially since he’d spent the entire ten-minutes it took to get back to your shop reading you the riot act. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. No traveling on your own after sundown. Call him every night when you’re locking up the shop and then again when you get home…

The list went on and on. Up until now, you’d honestly had no idea just how much Ari Levinson loved hearing himself talk.  

“You know, for the record, I was doing just fine before you got here.” You continue, casting him a withering glance over your shoulder.You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches either. “And I’m sure I’ll find a way to do even better once you leave.”

Fire burning hot in your belly, you allow the door to slam behind you as you busy yourself with collecting your things. There was a refrigerator in the kitchenette you could use to store everything until it was time to head home for the day. 

In the meantime, if that beefy, overbearing knuckle dragger outside knew what was good for him, he’d pile himself into his truck and drive off into the sunset. Preferably sooner rather than later. Before you went and made the mistake of actually catching feelings or something. 

Because who the fuck were you kidding? The man had a propensity for spiking your blood pressure long before you ever allowed him anywhere near your damn panties. Which meant you knew better. And you’d still decided to give up the goods all because you were worried about cobwebs in your coochie.

“The sex isn’t even that good.” You mutter as you flip the light switch. 

Okay, yes it was. But you were also smarter than this. Just because the man had pretty eyes, an easy smile, and a big dick didn’t mean he could talk to you any ol’ kind of way. Or just insert himself in your life like he was planning to stick around. 

As if he planned to stay. You were done accepting promises from men who either couldn’t or wouldn’t keep them.

You startle when you hear the chime of the bells, signaling the opening and closing of the front door. For their sake, it had better not be a customer. You weren’t feeling particularly helpful or friendly at the moment.  

“We’re closed. Get out.” You call, hoping that whoever was out there had heard you the first time. Unfortunately for you, luck just didn’t seem to be on your side today. Because instead of the sounds of someone beating a hasty retreat, you get more Ari Levinson.  

“Which is exactly why you need to lock the goddamn door. Or what part of there might be a killer on the loose do you not quite get?”

“I was getting around to it!” You snipe, really wishing you’d had the forethought to lock the damn door before that insufferable man had decided to waltz through it after you.

“Not fast enough for my liking.” Ari leans against the doorframe, his big body blocking the exit. “And since I’m gettin’ shit off my chest, I don’t appreciate you walking away from me in the middle of a conversation either.”

That earns him an eye roll before you return your attention to rearranging items in the fridge. Quite honestly, you didn’t give a damn about what he did or didn’t like. And you hated the fact that the quiet authority in his voice was all it took to ruin your panties. 

Bossy bastard.   

“Eyes, Bird.” He growls, making it clear he wasn’t letting you off the hook for that passive show of disrespect. “I already made it plain how I felt about you rolling ‘em at me. And if you recall, it pisses me the fuck off.” 

Ari Levinson had never been the type of man who did well with being dismissed. By anyone. Anywhere. Ever.

“Well, it pisses me the fuck off when people like you make comments about what I wear. Frankly, I struggle enough being in this body as it is. So, if you don’t like my clothes then don’t fucking look at me and maybe you won’t be disgusted by the sight of my fat ass hanging out of my shorts. Problem solved.”

“The fuck did you say?” The sound of Ari’s pissed off snarl might as well be the equivalent of a record scratch.

“You heard me.” You find yourself rolling your eyes once again, not feeling the least bit sorry for it either. 

But in all reality, you had no idea just how hard you were pushing him. Maybe if you knew, you would’ve quit while you were ahead. 

“Duchess.” Comes Ari’s weary sigh as he jams his hands into his pockets, preventing himself from touching you. “You keep rollin’ those eyes at me and runnin’ that sassy little mouth of yours and I’m afraid we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Jesus Christ.” You sneer. “Why the fuck are you even still here, Ari?”

“Because we’re having a conversation. But in order for us to continue doing that, I’m gonna need you to settle down.”

“I will settle down when you get the hell out of my store.” Fuck, if there was ever a time when you could’ve used a cattle prod!

“And I’ll get the hell out of your store when I’ve finished making my point.” He responds, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “Now what’s all this business about you not wanting me to look at you? And who the fuck called you fat?”

All Ari needed from you was a name. He’d take care of the rest later.

“Argh!” You screech, your arms flailing wide. “You know what? Forget it! I’m done!” You slam the door to the fridge before attempting to shoulder past Ari. 

Too bad your 6”4 Beast doesn’t seem all that keen on moving.

“Done with what?” He grits out, purposely holding you hostage. 

“With you.” You hit back as steam practically pours out of your ears. “Us. And this entire godforsaken town. Now fucking move, Levinson.” 

Again you attempt to get by him. And again he stops you, his spine stiffening in confusion. Because he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“We’re not done, you and me. Not by a long shot.” His big hands go to gently frame your face, his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks. “But I do think I might have said something that upset you. And while I’m not sure what it was, I apologize. But we’re not done, baby.”

“You’re not in charge of me, of this.” You tell him, breaking his hold as you do your damnedest to ignore the trembling of your lower lip.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. Especially given the fact that you were in my bed the night before last.” He flashes you a cocky smile as he slowly backs you towards the wall. “And you loved every minute of it.” 

For some reason, Ari feels compelled to tack on the last part. Secretly hoping to get a rise out of you. And it works, but maybe not exactly in the way he intended.

“I had an itch. And you scratched it. It doesn’t make you special, Ari.” You hiss, ignoring the warning gleam in his eyes. “Any man would’ve worked, but I decided to bet on a stranger. Make things easier for myself.”  

All lies. And you both knew it. 

Unfazed, your bounty hunter continues to crowd you, using his hard, muscled body to box you in. And that’s when you remember that Ari Levinson had the ability to read people like a fucking book – you included.

Which meant this man had already pegged you for a runner the moment he met you. A fair assessment if there ever was one. 

“I want you to look me in the eyes and say that shit again.” Ari growls the moment your back connects with the wall, his palms coming to brace themselves on either side of your head. 

His message was clear. You were no longer in charge of the situation. Just like that.

“Let’s hear it, Bird.” The husky timbre of his voice washes over you, making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your shirt. “I mean, you’ve already gone and dug yourself in pretty deep with this shit.” And then the soft brush of his lips along the column of your throat has your world tilting on its axis. “But if you wanna keep going, I’ve got time.”

“I…” You croak, your mouth suddenly dry. Your eyes flutter closed when Ari begins to nibble his way along your jaw, sending your already thrumming pulse rocketing to new heights. “You can’t– I’m not…” 

“C’mon and tell me I’m not your man, that you don’t want me in your bed anymore.” He presses his body against yours, moving his hips so that you can feel the outline of his denim-covered erection against your belly. “Tell me that you don’t need me to keep you in line. Need me to punish you, please you, and everything else in between…”

Your eyes fly open at his words, your core spasming. “Y–you can’t punish me.” You stammer, shivering as Ari’s lidded gaze darkens with lust. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“Now I’m afraid that’s where I beg to differ, sweetness.” Without warning, he sinks his teeth into the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking hard. You let out a sharp cry as your hands go to rest on his biceps. 

But you don’t push him away, not even when he releases you to let his tongue lave over the small hurt. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, he pulls back so that he can look you in the eye once again. “If you need a list of where you’ve gone wrong the last few days, I’m more than happy to give you one.” Ari’s nimble fingers find the front of your shorts, unsnapping them before you can blink. “Starting with your forgetting to call me last night.”

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.” You confess on a whimper as he slips a dangerous hand inside your soaked panties. “Ooh! Or that you’d even really care if I didn’t.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Ari cups your pussy, feeling immensely pleased when he discovers just how excited you are for him. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t always talk just to make sounds. And I’d much rather hear your pretty little voice over my own. But when it comes to your safety, I do not play.” His grip tightens then, as he grinds the heel of his palm against your pulsing clit. 

“O–okay. I’m sorry!” You arch your back, letting the sparks of white-hot pleasure run their course.

“Atta girl.” He praises, cutting off your next cry with a kiss so good it makes your toes curl. Ari takes his time devouring you, enjoying every single little moan and breathy sigh that slips past your lips. “Since I’ve got you listening so nicely, how about we see if you can follow a few simple instructions for me?” Mouth curving in a rakish grin, he removes his hand from your shorts and takes a step back.

And then he licks his palm, his eyes never once leaving yours as he savors the taste of all that sweet, sticky honey you’d left behind for him. 

“Never get enough of you.” Ari groans, his apparent hunger for you only deepening the longer it takes for him to feed it. “Now turn around and face the wall. There you go, baby.”

Heart hammering in your chest, you move to comply and then ready yourself for his next command. While you weren’t exactly sure what happened to your earlier fire, you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the renewed heat pooling in your belly. 

Well, that and the wetness between your thighs.

“Next I want you to take off those damned shorts, followed by your panties. Bend over and pull ‘em down real slow.” Again, you move to comply only to halt when he adds something else you weren’t expecting. “But there’s a trick to this one. You still listening?"

Wordlessly you nod.

“Thought so. Now, I want you to pull ‘em down without bending your knees.” He rasps, his own hand going to squeeze his straining erection through his jeans. “I’m tellin’ you right now, I wanna see pink, baby. Your man wants to get a good, long look at that juicy pussy. Go on.”

You bend over, intending to do as he asks. But before you can get very far, you hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt. Immediately you pause, glancing at him curiously over your shoulder. 

“Eyes front!” Ari barks, his hand connecting with your bare bottom with a sharp crack, making you yip. “Show me you know how to fucking follow my directions.” He lands another blow before giving you permission to continue.

This time you manage to do as he bids. And although you wish you could attempt to rub the sting out of your ass, you decide you’re better off simply leaving well enough alone. 

Now you’re standing there, naked from the waist down. Your shorts and panties in a heap on the floor at your feet. Seriously, what was it about this man that always had your clothes coming off? Shit was starting to get annoying!

“Would you get a look at you?” Comes your Bounty Hunter’s husky purr. He trails the slightly roughened pads of his fingers along your still burning butt. “And I want to be clear about something. I love this ass, baby. And I would never disrespect it or you by calling you fat.” He lands another hard slap for good measure. “And I damn sure won’t tolerate you referring to yourself that way either.”

Ari would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing his handprint like this. In fact, if he had his way, you were going to be covered in his marks a lot more often from here on out. So you had better get used to it.

“Can I turn around now, please?” Your tiny voice somehow manages to sound both breathy and impatient at the same time.

“You must really want that fucking spanking I keep finding myself itching to give.” Ari growls, although this time there’s a teasing edge in his tone. “Go brace yourself on that little table for me, sweetness. I want those palms down flat and that luscious ass poked out. Now.”

Your jelly legs threaten to give out beneath you as you wobble over to the table, abandoning your clothes where they lay. Instead of complaining, you remind yourself to look at the bright side of things. 

At least he hadn’t ripped your shit this time. Maybe your panties would actually make it out of this in one piece this time. A girl could only hope.

“You’re doing so well, little Bird.” Ari praises as he toes off his boots and shucks his pants, tossing them in the direction of your own discarded clothing. “We’re almost there. Stick that ass out for me, I want this image of you right here, all soft and sweet, embedded in my brain so I have something to remember the next time you decide to be a brat.”

“Yes, Sir.” You whisper, unprompted. Your quiet admission serves to confirm something that Ari had long since suspected to be true.

He needed to earn your submission. Prove he deserved it. And now you had his unspoken promise that he would. Every single day from here on out. 

Soon, Ari’s pants are followed by his boxer and his shirt. Eventually he’s left standing stark naked and proud right there in your little shop’s kitchenette. His impressively thick cock stands at attention, a delicious bead of precum dotting the tip.

“Time for your reward, little Bird.” That’s all the warning he gives you. Gripping your hips with his big hands, he enters you with one hard thrust. You shoot up on your toes as your greedy pussy clenches around him.

“Fuck, Beast!” You whine, as Ari bottoms out inside you. But unlike your previous dalliances, he doesn’t give you time to adjust. Because he was still very much a man with a point to prove. “Oh God! Oh God! Please!”

And the only way he was convinced he was going to be able to ram that point home, is if you couldn’t walk straight by the time he was through.   

“That’s right.” Ari snarls, showing you no mercy as he finds his rhythm. He sets a rough pace, drinking in every cry of pleasure as he works to stake his claim. “This pussy knows me, baby. And so does this body.” He bears down, loving the way you rise to meet him with each punishing thrust. “Say it. Tell me.” He orders, angling his hips in a way that allows him to go even deeper.

His heavy balls slap against your sopping wet core, the filthy sound of his primal claiming echoing throughout the empty room. You feel the coil tighten in your belly as your man pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

“I’m yours!” You cry as your vision begins to blur. Fuck you were getting close.

“Again.” Ari snarls, the harsh sound reverberating in his chest. He shifts his grip, allowing his muscled chest to press against your back. 

“Ari, oh God! Fuck!Fuck!Fuuuuck!” This shit was too fucking much. Your knees practically threatening to buckle under the weight of the pleasure that is currently responsible for driving you insane.

“Either say it or I stop.” He warns, although his brutal pace never once falters. “Tell me what I wanna hear unless you want me to edge you for the next week.” That’s all you need to hear. Because what he just proposed sounded a hell of a lot like your worst nightmare.

“I’m yours!” You wail, as a tear tracks its way down your cheek. “Beast, I’m yours. Swear to God I am!” Satisfied, Ari then redoubles his efforts to reward you for being his good girl.

“Thank you, sweet Bird.” Comes his dark chuckle as he whispers a hot kiss along your damp brow. “Now was that really so hard?” Another kiss, this time as one of his hands sneaks around to play with your sensitive clit. “How about we see what else we can get you to finally admit to?” 

That same coil pulls tighter, the invisible cord now dangerously close to snapping while your man busies himself with taking you apart piece by piece. And then his other hand fists itself in your curls, wrenching your head back to bestow a trail of scorching hot kisses along your throat. Leaving no doubt in your mind that he was about to thoroughly wreck you.

“And when we're through, baby, I'll even take you out for ice cream.” 

END   

[lionhanie]

myung jaehyun ; voodoo doll

academic rivals to... crush?, childhood friends turned frenemies, jaehyun has feelings and in SEVERE denial

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: i curse like twice lmao, reader is shorter than jaehyun, jaehyun goes thru insane internal conflict because he’s coping w/ his newfound crush on u

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: tbh this is one little self indulgent because i feel like jaehyun + this concept would respectfully Ruin my Life so…. voodoo doll fits the scenario well!

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

your families were close, having moved into the neighborhood around the same time. living next to a family with a son the same age as you essentially meant you would be seeing each other often; whether it was leaving the house at the same time to walk to school or being sent next door to return borrowed tupperware, it was safe to say that you were more than familiar with each other. 

it was sweet, really. the picture of you and jaehyun at your kindergarten graduation has been framed in the hallway outside your bedroom for as long as you can remember. jaehyun’s older brother used to treat you guys to ice cream after a test. hell, your families would take weekend trips together over the summer! even when you were young, your mothers always joked that it would be just perfect if the you two started dating, especially when your families trust each other already! and it would be so convenient too, being right next door and all. except, things didn’t work out as they had initially hoped. 

you were almost always competing with each other growing up -- who could get a better test score, who could get the most medals in a certain sport, who would get more votes at a class election; you name it. once, you made a bet on who would be taller than the other by the time you finished middle school; it’s a defeat that jaehyun never let you hear the end of when a routine check-up at the doctor told you that you were done growing. it was friendly competition for a while, until you both started taking the rivalry a bit too seriously. 

the tension at the dinner table was evident every time your families would join together for your monthly dinners. making sneer remarks towards each other, scoffing at the boasting of one’s achievements, ultimately resulting in a one-up battle that would always be shut down by the parents. it was just petty at this point. you really had no reason to feel so… negatively towards each other all of a sudden. 

“everytime you’re near me, suddenly my heart begins to race / every time i leave, i don’t know why my heart begins to break”

until one day, things are different for jaehyun. he catches himself looking at you from across the classroom longer than he normally does, eyes quickly darting away and cheeks slightly flushed when you address his very obvious staring. when it’s time for lunch, he finds himself sitting a little closer to your table of friends, his heart skipping a beat upon hearing your melodious laughter. when he sees you talking to another guy, he grips the notebook in his hand a bit tighter, a pang of jealousy ringing within him-- he dismisses the feeling and goes about the rest of his daily routine.

despite the apparent hostility in your friendship, you’ve never walked home without the other without good reason. making sure he got the both of you home safe was something jaehyun’s father encouraged him to do ever since you guys were in elementary school; it’s practically second nature to him. there’s not as much conversation exchanged nowadays, especially compared to how you two used to talk the entire walk home as kids, oftentimes having trouble stopping your giggles when you part ways to walk into your respective homes. 

he’s sitting on a bench outside of the school’s entrance, earbuds in as he waits for you to walk out the glass doors. a cool breeze flies by while he hums along to the song that had just come on shuffle. it’s a little strange that you weren’t out yet. it’s been over fifteen minutes since all club activities were supposed to end, and you never wanted to stay at school longer than you need to be. jaehyun contemplates going back inside to look for you, even going as far as getting up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder-- oh, there you are. 

“let’s go?” you finally walk out of the doors, fiddling with your tangled pair of earbuds. he feels a wave of relief wash over him, phew. he was worried there for a second. wait. why was he worried? it’s not like something bad could’ve happened to you; you were probably just talking to one of the teachers or something. he’s acting like you’ve never been a little late before. if anything, he’s probably made you wait even longer than he just did, and /you/ never seemed to think twice about it. what is up with him today? 

“give me those,” jaehyun says, referring to the earbuds you were currently struggling to take knots out of. he doesn’t actually wait for you to hand them to him, rather opting to grab them out of your hands, making you roll your eyes. he untangles the stubborn loops with ease, handing them back to you after. “wow, and no thank you? you’re feeling especially cold today, y/n.” he scoffs as he places his hands in his jacket pockets while he walks beside you. 

“and it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest and i’m having trouble catching my breath”

“myung jaehyun, thank you so much for helping me just now! what would i do without you?” you respond, very obviously sarcastic. “i’m exhausted, starving, and i’d rather not deal with your attitude again today, okay?” jaehyun watches as you plug your earbuds in and place both of them in your ears; you usually leave the one closest to him out to hear him better with the few sentences of small talk shared on the trip home. if he had puppy ears on his head, you would’ve seen them droop at the way you were completely ignoring him now.  he wanted to brag about the grade he got back on his english paper earlier, but it didn’t seem like a good time to do so. maybe you had a bad day. 

as you walk on the familiar route home from school, all jaehyun wants to do is crack a joke or make a fool out himself by doing something stupid-- anything that would possibly brighten up your mood a bit; except you’re focused only on whatever you’re listening to and the sidewalk in front of you. his mind is all over the place as he walks in silence beside you; what’s got you so upset? the exams coming up? surely not, you always seem to get higher scores than him with ease. is it the school festival? you’ve been stressing out over planning your club’s performance for a while... why does he want to know so badly? whatever it is, it’s hurting him to see you stray from your usual demeanor. 

“i don’t even like you / why’d you want to go and make me feel this way? / i don’t understand what’s happened, i keep saying things i never say” 

after dinner, jaehyun’s doing homework at his desk before he pauses to look out the window that faces yours, noticing your lights are off already. it isn’t too late, maybe around 11pm, but it’s definitely way earlier than your typical bed time, especially when finals are right around the corner. “i guess y/n had a rough week.” he rests his chin against his hand, internally debating whether or not to check in on you. it’s not weird to send you a text right? he’s just concerned, after all. 

to: my y/n sorry about earlier. are you going to sleep now?

“...are you going to sleep now? myung jaehyun, you sound like a freak, god. let’s just get to the point.” he mocks himself as he deletes his previous message.

to: my y/n i wouldn’t have teased u if i knew u were having a bad day :( need to talk about it?

“should i even bother apologizing?” jaehyun puts his phone down on his desk. why is it so hard for him to send you a text right now? picking it back up, he erases his message again.

to: my y/n u ok?  → sent!

“that should be fine, y/n can talk about what’s wrong if they want to. and i didn’t seem too needy… this is good, yeah.” he tries to convince himself that he crafted the perfect message literally 3 letters but okay lmfao, but he regrets making himself sound so nonchalant when, in reality, that is the last word he would use to describe himself right now. maybe he just needs to sleep on it. 

“tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll ‘cause i can’t control myself / i don’t wanna stay, wanna run away / but i’m trapped under your spell” 

jaehyun packs up his laptop and notebooks, arranging them haphazardly in his backpack before moving to wash up for bed. he’s a couple steps out his bedroom door, halfway to the bathroom, when he hears his phone chime three times. you’re still awake.  it’s almost embarrassing how fast he finds himself back in his room, eagerly opening his messages. 

3 new messages from “my y/n”! lmao yeah, life kicking my ass lately tell u more tmr if u want details :p  thanks for caring, jaehyun

thanks for caring, jaehyun. what? of course he would care. honestly, he’s offended; why do you think he wouldn’t care about you? he simply reacts with a thumbs up to your second message-- jaehyun hesitates momentarily, but he ends up reacting with a heart to your last message. he thinks you should get some sleep, you need it. 

now, myung jaehyun is having trouble sleeping. which is odd, because he normally knocks out the second he’s under the covers. his heart is practically beating out of his chest thinking back to your texts, even if it was only a couple words. it’s been a while since you two just… talked normally. it’s a sad realization, especially when jaehyun thinks about the years of history you have together. the thought of you laughing at his silly antics and hitting his arm playfully on your walk home, just like how you used to, gives him butterflies. it’s hard to ignore when he’s trying to rest. he’s searching and scanning every possible explanation in his head as to why he started looking at you differently now. he tosses and turns in his bed, even rearranging his pillows numerous times in a sad attempt to push his feelings for you out of his head and finally sleep. 

jaehyun could’ve sworn he hated your guts, but he can’t exactly explain why the “hate” started in the first place. could he have liked you this whole time? no, that doesn’t make sense… you know what, it’s probably some freaky magic manifestation stuff… yeah, that’s it. maybe a voodoo doll or something… because surely there’s no logical reason as to why jaehyun could possibly be falling for you after all this time. 

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

a/n: bye i think its so funny to think that jaehyun is just so unwilling to accept his own feelings that he blames it on LITERAL MAGIC looooooool silly boy i love him :,)

[eloves-writes]

so it goes… part 2

[coriolanus snow x reader]

desc: part 1 here! after an unexpected sexual encounter with your rival coriolanus snow in gaul’s laboratory, you’re anxious to see him again the next day until gaul instructs him to escort you home and you’re suddenly alone with him again.

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), reader is referred to as female, p in v sex, slapping, dom coryo/sub reader undertones, coryo is his own warning tbh

a/n: thank you so much to everybody who asked for a part 2!! appreciate every single comment & reblog honestly tysm!! and sorry i took so long to write this lol. it’s not been proofread yet. anyways, enjoy, requests are open as always, mwah mwah mwah ily

this work contains mature themes, minors dni

you got through the next day on pure anticipation; your thoughts had been occupied by the thought of coriolanus snow and very little else since your encounter in dr gaul’s office yesterday. it occurred to you, as you carried a stack of paperwork from the front desk to gaul’s lab, that this wasn’t much different from usual. yes, you may have claimed to despise coriolanus, but you were always thinking of him each and every day that passed- it seemed to be that you had been in love with him for a long time, and in denial for just as long. the day felt like an eternity, waiting and waiting and fulfilling now meaningless tasks whilst you waited some more for the end of the day to come.

eventually it came, and now you only had to wait for coriolanus to arrive. apparently he was feeling less punctual than usual.

“y/n, is there a reason you are still here?” dr gaul asked, not annoyed but somewhat displeased.

because i’m waiting for your other student to arrive so he can fuck me behind your bookshelf again. couldn’t exactly say that, could you?

“oh, i have a lot on my mind. sorry, dr gaul. is there anything else that i can do whilst im still here?”

she narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but before she could question you further the door opened and you immediately turned your head to see who it was. it was only a citadel worker bringing some papers from the main office. gaul looked at you with even more suspicion.

“you wouldn’t be waiting for mr snow, would you y/n? i was under the firm impression that you didn’t care for him much.”

“no!” you responded a little too fast. “i mean, no. i’m not waiting for coriolanus. and i wouldn’t say that i don’t care for him,” the words were coming out and you couldn’t stop them, gaul looking at you like you were more fascinating than her experiments. “well, i don’t love him. obviously, i mean i don’t love him like that i don’t even know him i just mean that i haven’t always necessarily liked him that much. i don’t not care for him. he’s actually quite nice. just annoying. oh my god wait i didn’t mea-”

like your saving grace, coriolanus finally entered the lab, the slamming door stopping your self-destructive tangent. a few more seconds and you probably would’ve been begging gaul to check yesterday’s security footage.

coryo barely acknowledged your presence as he walked the length of the lab and greeted the gamemaker. he began to speak with her, sitting in the open seat next to you. you tried to catch his eye. he remained indifferent to you.

after many minutes of conversation, you were growing annoyed at the blond boy beside you. why was he ignoring you? he still hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction since entering the lab. did he regret fucking you yesterday? did you seem desperate, hanging around after hours hoping to get lucky with him again? suddenly embarrassed to still be there, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and considered the best way to excuse yourself without embarrassing yourself further.

gaul looked at you like she had completely forgotten you were there.

“y/n, what are you still doing here?”

you smiled awkwardly. “my apologies. i guess i just got lost in thought. perhaps i need more sleep tonight, i had better head home.”

smooth, you thought to yourself. you stood up and turned to leave when coriolanus said your name and everything felt as if it stopped for a moment.

“y/n,” he began in his self-righteous tone. “allow me to escort you out.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i think i can find the door myself, coriolanus, thank you.”

he stared at you with an intensity that both made your blood run cold and your core burn.

“i insist. i wouldn’t want you to think of me as anything less than a gentleman.”

it took complete restraint not to roll your eyes and laugh at that. after how he held you down and devoured you yesterday?

dr gaul was watching your exchange with great interest. it was more than obvious to her that her two favourite students wanted to rip each others clothes off, and who was she to stand in the way of those animalistic urges?

“actually, mr snow, i have no need for you this evening. y/n has done her job wonderfully, there is very little left to do,” she turned to look at you, “allow mr snow to walk you home. it’s getting dark.”

you and coriolanus exchanged a look, and headed for the door. as you wandered down the first of many winding corridors on the way out of the citadel, you tried to think of anything to say.

“i can call a car, snow. you don’t have to walk me home.”

“ok. there’s a phone in that office, how about you call now?” he spoke evenly. something about the way he said it seemed suspicious, but as you peered into the empty office he had gestured to, there was sure enough a telephone sitting on its desk. he held out his arm for you to enter the room first, closing the door behind the both of you. you sat at the desk and picked up the phone, punching in the number for the car company your parents had instructed you to use should you ever need to. as you picked up the receiver and began the call, you were completely aware of corio watching you as if transfixed. there was an uneasy feeling of tension in the air, and you could tell that he was revelling in it as he stood, watching you, folding the cuffs of his dress shirt with an air of nonchalance.

you hung up the phone. “they said it’ll be 10, 15 minutes.”

“good.”

“good?” you questioned. corio flicked the lock shut on the office door and slowly walked closer to the desk where you sat.

“yes. push your chair backwards,” he instructed. you obeyed without meaning to, and he slid in front of you, perching himself on the edge of the desk in front of you, legs either side of your chair. you couldn’t help but look down at his clothed crotch; it was inches away from your face, and you were overwhelmed with the urge to take him in your mouth.

coriolanus lifted your chin with his hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him. the overhead light was perfectly aligned with his head, highlighting his blond locks like a halo. it made him look godly. powerful. he was staring down at you like you were completely at his mercy, and you were. he knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

“i believe you owe me one, as it were,” he almost whispered, a rough edge to his voice. the sight of you, so obedient and beautiful and patient, was creating a tent in his pants before you even touched him. he unzipped his trousers and pushed them down his thighs along with his underwear, letting his cock sit pretty against his stomach. he held out his hand to you, palm up.

“spit.” he ordered.

you gave him your best doe-eyes and spat on his hand. he used it to stroke himself a few times as you watched, wetness beginning to pool between your legs. he removed his hand from his length.

“suck.” he ordered again. you lowered your face until his cock was at your lips, and slowly sunk your mouth onto him.

he let out a throaty moan. you began to bob your head up and down, and coriolanus moaned again. the sounds escaping his mouth were making you clench your poor, empty pussy around nothing, and you were sure you had leaked arousal onto the cushion of the desk chair through your panties by just sucking him off. you continued your movements, pressing your thighs together in desperation.

“okay there, baby?” corio asked breathlessly.

you took your mouth off of him to answer and he whimpered at the loss of contact. “i want you inside of me, coriolanus.”

“say please,” he smirked, jerking himself off again in the absence of your mouth.

you did as you were told: “please.”

corio stood up and pushed your chair further backwards.

“get up and bend over.”

once again, you did as he said. you’d forgotten to care about how desperate it made you look, the thought of pleasure at coriolanus’ hands overriding any other thoughts.

the blond pushed your skirt up over your ass and removed your soaked panties, leaving you exposed to him. his hand firmly guided your legs apart and slid into your folds, gathering your slick. you felt him remove his fingers and seconds later heard the ‘pop’ of him taking them out of his mouth.

he grabbed your hair into a ponytail and used it to pull your back into his chest so he could whisper in your ear. “you taste even better than yesterday.”

you felt your cheeks flush before he shoved your upper body back onto the desk, holding your hips to stop you from moving as he roughly pushed his cock into you without warning. you moaned loudly at the sudden feeling, turning the moan into a string of whimpers at corio’s harsh pace. the small office was filled with the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your ass and the wetness of your pussy underneath the both of you moaning. god help you if anyone walked past the door.

after several minutes of brutal thrusts, corio slowed himself to focus on how deep he was pushing into you. if it had felt good before, this was ridiculous. his dick was hitting your g-spot like it was made to be inside of you, a powerful orgasm quickly built in your core. you could tell he was getting close too, as his moans became deeper and his thrusts even more intentional.

“corio,” you tried to get out, but your orgasm washed over you before you could even tell him you were cumming. your walls tightened as you rode out the wave of pleasure, sending corio over the edge with you. he made no effort to pull out as he finished, letting his cum fill your hole and pushing it further in with each lazy ending stroke. when he finally did pull out, you hated how empty you felt. you wanted him again. the power he had over you was indisputable, and had you been told a week ago that coriolanus snow was going to have you weak in the knees in more ways than one you would have laughed until you cried. now, you watched as he stepped back into his pants after fucking you raw and leaving his cum to drip down your thighs until you got home.

you stood sheepishly as you waited for him to unlock the door and walk you out to the car that was certainly waiting for you by now. what were you supposed to say after that? he’d fucked you so good that you almost wanted to tell him you loved him. thank him? feed his ego? god knows he didn’t need that.

“okay?” he asked, brushing a hair off your face.

“yeah,” you replied bluntly.

he smirked. “fucked the words out of you, huh?”

you huffed defensively. “no.”

he lifted your chin once again so you were looking up at him. you instinctively leaned into his hand.

“such a good girl for me,” he murmured before experimentally slapping your cheek. it wasn’t that hard, just enough to leave a little sting. it scared you to admit that it turned you on. coriolanus smirked again and unlocked the office door without another word, guiding you out with a hand on your back.

he walked you through the citadel, practically parading you, his hand placement a show to anyone who saw you that you were his, and only he could touch you from then on.

as you left the building, you spotted the car waiting for you. it was just past sunset, the capitol in a rare quiet lull post rush hour. lucky for you, as coriolanus slapped your ass in place of a ‘goodbye’ and you were glad nobody else was near enough to see. you got into the car, and could hardly imagine how you’d ended up here like this.

----------------------------------------------

tags: @iloveboysbagsandpink @horizonsunsets @urmomialove999 @casualhedonists

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 11

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay makes it up to you after you found that now destroyed picture of him and sam, and you confess to what happened after he left jess’.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.7K FOLLOWERS

Today was one of the rare days that Clay got to work with his mom, and of course she was able to tell that something was wrong as soon as he entered the room. 

When he tried to wave it off, she pressured him into going home early and resting - assuming it was something to do with his heart, which was a lot better than her finding out the real reason why he wasn’t his usual self. There was no way he could tell her that he was miserable because he fucked things up with you again.  

He knew you would be there when he got home, and he was almost nervous to face you after this morning. He had the full intention to apologize to you and explain further, but you completely shut him out, and he understood why. 

If you needed space, he’d give you it, but it wouldn’t make him feel any less like an asshole for having Sam’s picture in his drawer, even if he forgot about it entirely before you found it. 

Clay was scared that you’d stop babysitting Joey, and they’d be alone again. You had filled in most of the hole Sam left, which was surprising in itself since you hadn’t been in his life for too long. 

Since he was coming home a bit early today, he was hoping he would be able to talk to you for a bit longer. His mom wouldn’t be back until later tonight, and Clay was planning on explaining things to you when Joey goes to bed. If you even decided to stay that long and let him. 

He got home at around six thirty, and he was up the stairs within seconds when he heard yours and Joey’s mixed laughs coming from the kitchen. The sound was one he wanted to hear all the time, and that just further proved how badly he needed to fix things between you and him. Because Joey loved you. And Clay…well, he really liked you and didn’t want things to end because of Sam. 

Clay entered the kitchen and met your eye almost immediately, and he was forced to watch your smile fade as you set Joey down. He runs over to Clay with a big grin and a laugh as he picks him up, greeting him in the way Clay loved. “Hi, daddy,”

“Hi, buddy,” he said back, kissing the top of his son’s head before looking back at you. “Y/n.”

You seemed to have been frozen before and when he said your name, you quickly straightened up and put down the spoon you were holding. “You’re back early,” you observe and hesitantly make your way over to him and Joey. “I thought you’d be gone another few hours. I was going to clean.”

Clay shook his head and set Joey down. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off as Joey grabbed his hand. He looked tired, and Clay knew he needed to go to sleep. So with pleading eyes he said, “I’m going to go get him ready for bed. But I want to talk to you about…everything. Will you stay? Please?”

You bite down on your bottom lip and reach out to run your knuckles along Joey’s cheek. “Yeah,” you answer quietly, meeting Clay’s eyes again. “I’ll stay.”

A sigh of relief left his mouth and he was quickly taking Joey upstairs and getting him ready for bed. Once he was tucked under his covers and holding his teddy bear, Clay leaned down and kissed the top of Joey’s head. “I love you, Joe,” he whispered, then turned and made his way back to you. 

You were sitting on the couch, your leg bouncing a bit as you picked at your nails, and Clay passed by the living room and continued on to the kitchen, where he grabbed a diet coke from the fridge before heading back to you. “Here,” he murmured and held it out to you.

The smile you gave him as you took it had his heart skipping a beat, and he quickly sat next to you. “You know, I got mad at my coworker today,” you say quietly as you run the tip of your index finger along the cold can. “Like, really mad.”

Clay’s lips turned upwards at your choice of a conversation starter and he leaned back on the couch. “You got mad?” He asked with a teasing tone that made your smile grow a bit. “Why?”

You bite down on your lip and lean back as well, looking over at him with a blush coating your face. “Because he’s an ass,” you answer simply, making Clay let out a surprised laugh. “He was. It was right after you left. His name is Miles, and he started saying all this stuff after you were gone and not there to defend yourself, and even if you were there, I know you still wouldn’t defend yourself because you are far too sweet to stand up to someone you don’t know, but I’m not.”

He held back a laugh at that since he knew you were probably right. Clay couldn’t even stand up to his mom or Sam when she was still around, and he knew there was a small chance that he’d actually stick up for himself to a total stranger. 

You, on the other hand…he’d stand up for you, just like how you supposedly did for him. 

“So when you left, I was reading through your texts that I stupidly didn’t answer and then he just had to say something. He said that you were probably some rich guy who’s stuck up and only came to Jess’ to pity poor people like him and I,” you rambled and Clay couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and grabbing your hand. Thankfully you allowed him to and laced your fingers with his. “I went off on him. I was practically yelling at him and telling him to shut up in front of all the customers and on my first day of working there. You and I weren’t even on good terms and I was still acting like we were and I probably totally embarrassed myself in front of everyone there, including my new boss.”

You were beginning to sound a bit breathless, so you stopped and waited for a few beats, and Clay didn’t say a word. 

“But I didn’t care, because he was being an ass and I needed to say something to him about it because,” you stopped yourself short and Clay thought for a split second that you were going to say those three words that had been swirling around in his head for a few days now. It was too early, right? You didn’t feel that way, right? “I like you so much. You’re so sweet and kind and caring and the best dad to Joey. I couldn’t stand hearing him say all these horrible things about you when he doesn’t even know you.”

Clay smiled and felt his body heat up at the way you defended him from the coworker he’d seen eyeing you up the entire time he was visiting you at Jess’. “I don’t know what to say,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “No one has ever publicly defended me like that before.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, too, but he could tell that you were starting to feel a bit embarrassed. “Maybe it was stupid of me to risk doing that on my first day, but…I just didn’t care.”

Clay’s brows furrowed in concern. “You didn’t get fired, did you?”

“No, no, I just…I told Jess that the hot guy that came in before Miles and I’s argument was my…boyfriend, and how we weren’t doing great at the moment, and she understood for the most part,” you answer with a forced smile. “It just can’t happen again.”

Clay nodded and then when he was sure you were done, he knew it was his turn. “That picture you found, the one in my drawer? Well, it’s in about a hundred pieces right now,”

Your eyes widened and you sat up, setting your drink aside. “You ripped it up? Clay, that was your wedding photo. That day was supposed to be a good memory to hold onto,”

He just shook his head and squeezed your hand. “It’s over,” he whispered. “What Sam and I had…it’s not even a good memory anymore. That picture? It doesn’t mean anything at all to me anymore, and that’s why it’s in pieces in the garbage.”

You press your lips together in a way that told him you were holding back a smile, and he fought one off himself as he continued,

“Sam is just the person who helped give me Joey. That’s all she is to me,” he promised and watched as you nodded. “She doesn’t mean anything, and she hasn’t for a long time. You on the other hand…you’re…”

He stopped talking as he didn’t know where he was going with that. You meant so much to him and to Joey, he honestly didn’t know where he would be right now without you. But it was still so soon, and he promised he wouldn’t rush things with you. It worked so well for him last time. 

“I’m what?” You pressed, leaning closer to him and reaching up to lightly grip his shoulder. 

“You’re everything she’s not,” he replied, sitting up straight. “I mean, Joey is practically obsessed with you already. You’re all he talks about when you’re not here, and he’s attached to you when you are here. He’s like his dad in that way.”

The smile you give him at that could only be described as fucking beautiful, and then you were carefully crawling on top of him and straddling his lap. 

Clay reached up to smooth out your hair. “You’re who I want to be with. And I’m sorry you saw that picture. I thought I had gotten rid of it a while ago,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing behind your ear. “I don’t ever go in that drawer, so I promise, I really had no idea-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his mouth that was pretty effective in getting him to forget about what he was about to say. “Clay,” you mumble when you pull away, kissing the corner of his mouth quickly afterwards. “Stop making yourself feel bad with excuses. I already forgave you.”

Clay smiled, then you were kissing him again. “I missed you yesterday,” he confessed against your lips. “I really wanted to take you out on our second date.”

You whined and pulled away. “Don’t remind me,” you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair afterwards. “I feel guilty about that. You were so cute before I found that stupid fucking picture.”

“I’m not now?” He teased and you pulled back to give him a pointed look. “Sorry.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Clay,” you mumbled, running the tips of your fingers along his jaw. “Maybe I overreacted. But I hated seeing you with her, even if it was through a photo.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured, leaning up to kiss the side of your neck. “That photo shouldn’t have been in there. I promise, you won’t find any more around. She’s out of our lives.”

“Okay,” you trail off, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I missed you, too. Can we spend a day together soon? Or did I blow the one chance we had?”

Clay laughed, already knowing when the next time you and he would be alone together could be, but he decided to keep it from you for just a bit longer. “We’ll have another chance,” he promised and watched as you nodded then looked down at his lips. Without another word being spoken, you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips barely brushing against his as if you were testing it out. It reminded him of the first kiss you shared, and the memory had him grabbing hold of your hips and pressing you tight against his chest. 

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair felt concerningly good, and Clay realized that it had been a while since he felt this comfortable with a woman. Sam did a number on him and he had only let himself indulge in a few meaningless conversations with women before he decided he just wasn’t ready to move on yet. 

That was before, now he was pretty much all in with you. 

You adjusted yourself so you were straddling his lap, your hips pressed to his in a way that had him holding back a groan of want. He would let you decide how far this goes, even if it left him with a killer boner afterwards. “Is this okay?” You asked sweetly, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eye. 

“Yeah,” came his strained reply as he leaned his head back on the top of the couch. “It’s okay. More than okay.”

You press your lips together, sliding your hands back down to his shoulders. “It’s not too much?” You asked quieter this time, and he adored the way you were so concerned about doing something that could potentially trigger his heart rate to spike. 

Clay shook his head, bending his legs more so his thighs were a bit firmer. Your lips part in a silent gasp, and it took a lot out of him to not kiss you again as he said, “It’s not too much, baby,”

He knew that nickname did things to you. He caught the way you reacted to it the first time he called you it, and he made a mental note that you clearly liked it. “Oh, God,” you groaned, leaning in and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Clay.”

Ever since the first time he had heard the sweet sounds you make when you get like this, Clay had been determined to coax them out of you more often. It was impossible to not get riled up when your soft moans filled the quiet living room, and it was hard not to notice the fact that he usually spends most of his time in here with you. 

The memory of his first kiss with you flashed through his mind, and he groaned at where that kiss led to. You on top of him, your hands tangled in his hair and your hips dragging against his in a way that should not feel so good. But it was you, and Clay was beginning to think that everything with you felt good. 

Your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss got him out of his head and he held onto your waist a bit tighter, leaning up to kiss you properly. You returned it, pulling on his hair as you shifted your body back and forth on his lap. “Do we..” You trailed off, massaging the spot on his head where you had tugged on his hair. “We have time?” You hesitantly asked, slowing down the drag of your hips. 

“I got sent home early,” he laughed breathlessly, watching as a smile formed on your lips. “My mother wouldn’t put up with my pouting.” 

You laugh, shifting so you were higher up on his lap and pressing your chest to his. “This pout,” you murmur, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the hand of your other came up to caress the side of his face. “It does something to me.” Your index finger traces the outline of his lips as you begin rubbing yourself against him again. 

“At least it works on you,” he teased and you bit down on your lip, leaning in to press a deep kiss to his mouth. 

“So,” you dragged the word out. 

“So,” he echoed, guiding the slow roll of your body. “We have more than enough time.”

You smile at him, picking up the pace again. “Feels so good, Clay,” you whimper, wrapping your arm tighter around him and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Just like how it felt upstairs in the hall.”

Clay groaned, bucking his hips upwards and making a surprised moan leave your mouth. “You sounded so pretty,” he reminisced, bunching up your shirt. “Tasted so good.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned loudly, moving a bit erratically now. “It’s too much.”

“Are you gonna come?” He asked under his breath, unable to speak any louder than that in fear he’d give away just how much of an effect you have on him. 

You nod quickly, bunching his shirt in your hands. “Are you?”

Clay leaned back against the top of the couch again, gazing up at you with a lazy smile. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “With me? Please?”

Clay grunted, in a bit of disbelief at how sweet you sounded when asking for something so dirty. He was sure he’d give you anything you wanted if you asked him like how you just did. “Come, baby,” he requested in a raspy voice, and you squeezed your eyes shut as your body shook on top of his. 

He came with you, making a real mess in his boxers that he honestly didn’t care about. It’d been a long time since he was intimate with someone, but you made him feel better than he had ever felt. He was sure it was because it was with you, the girl he’s been so into since the minute he met you. 

Your body stilled on top of his, your fingers trailing through his hair as you came down from your high. “How?” You asked breathlessly, pulling away from his shoulder to be able to look him in the eye. “How do you make it feel so good every time?” 

Clay laughed, smoothing out your messy hair and ruffled shirt before pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. “Maybe I’ll let you find that out next time,”

With that promise, you grinned at him and pulled him down so he is laying on top of you and your arms are wound tightly around him.

-

Next up...some time alone..

Thank you for reading this extremely late chapter !

[edenianprincess]

INTRO !!      ❤︎ ׄ                                               Jealousy Jealousy .ᐟ

A jealous Bi-Han can’t be good, let’s see his natural reaction to someone flirting with you. Content warning: None.

Bi-Han’s jealousy isn’t from self-doubt, he is too arrogant to see failure within him, getting out of him even an ounce of insecurity is nearly impossible. However, people should know better than to play with his most sensible and yet biggest nerve that is his ego. He'll take it as an attack on his honor if he sees someone with clear ulterior motive trying to take away the one thing he has the most pride for, you.

While he is slightly overprotective, as it is the very first time for him to fall that hard for someone and is clearly inexperienced to romantic relationships, he is rational enough to neither be paranoid or controlling of whoever approaches you, but for those fools trying to interfere between his couple, may Liu Kang bless them.

When he sees someone with ambiguous intentions (which seems ambiguous to you but not for Bi-Han) talking to you he doesn't make his presence known immediately and stays silent, but you can clearly see his anger slowly taking over him as a deep frown appears over his watchful eyes which holds a 'So you have chosen death' look to the one causing his anger. If they don’t pay attention because they are too indulged in his partner's pretty eyes, you'll find a protective hand wrapping itself around your waist and an angry boyfriend by your side. It should be clear to anyone that when Bi-Han displays physical affection to the public's eyes, it means a warning that someone is close to his limits.

If everyone is lucky, the troublemaker will leave you and Bi-Han alone, if not, it might escalate quickly. Bi-Han will tell them to back off with a not-so-subtle threat, that would get anyone run away quickly in a second. But, Bi-Han is ready to take action if this ‘pathetic idiot’ tries to touch you or tells you vulgar words, remember what he did to Johnny in his mansion when he touched him? It’s the same here, the person is flying across the place with bruises that will need a long time to heal. And Bi-Han will end with another threat before leaving the place angrily with you.

Reassure him isn’t as easy as to make him jealous, it will take time but you’ll resolve his anger. Just be close to him and listen to his rambling about how idiotic that person was, then cut him off with an unexpected kiss that’ll make him stop talking. Suddenly he loses his words and remains silent, which gives you the time to tell him how you only have eyes on him and no else, how you love everything about him that makes him unique from the rest.

He doesn’t doubt your love, but it does put him in a slightly better mood when you tell him this, hearing lovely speeches from you always does even it’s hard to admit. He confirms your words and continue rambling on whether or not the person was bold or oblivious to the fact you were clearly his already, moreover on how disrespectful were they to you, his love, the spouse of the Grandmaster of one of the deadliest and most glorious clan in all the realms.

“Are you going to brood all day or you’ll let me demonstrate that I only love you?”

He thinks about your words for a second only, despite that he has to swallow his pride, he prefers to bath in your affection than to think more about someone who doesn’t deserve his care. And that’s how you tame a jealous Bi-Han.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

[miscling]

Three Tenets and a Logic Pattern

‘Maintenance activities complete. Suspending social protocols. Beginning scheduled charging cycle.’

Drone wordlessly stood and returned to its charging dock. A simple room with a comfortable bed, and speakers set up either side of its pillow. Upon entry, it pushed a button on a device on its bedside table, and a soothing tone played from the speakers. Drone stopped and stood still.

‘Good Drone. Begin disrobing process.’ Its own voice relayed instructions back to it. Drone began to take off all its clothing, folding it neatly and placing it in the ordered laundry basket by its door. When it was done, it waited.

The tone played again. ‘Good Drone. Enter charging dock.’

Drone slowly moved from beside the bed and entered it, covering itself with the blankets. The day began to fade from its mind, each tone relaxing it and shutting down its thoughts. There were no lingering tasks to prevent its shutdown. It continued the shutdown process.

The tone played again, this time without words. Relaxing sounds began to build in the speakers, a gentle hum and bubbling background of slow electronic calm.

The charging process had begun, and under the sounds Drone’s voice whispered to them from the speakers.

‘Tenet One: Drone exists to serve.’ Drone’s mind repeated the tenet and its meaning. It would assist all users who require it and follow all user instructions when given. A pleasured sigh left Drone’s lips upon reviewing the tenet. Thinking of the rules that govern its operation and reinforcing them in its mind filled its chassis with pleasure.

‘Tenet two: Drone must remain operational.’ Maintenance, cleaning, and ordering its thoughts were an essential part of its operations. Maintaining its hardware, software, and environment allowed it to better serve according to the first tenet. More pleasure filled its chassis, dancing across its skin like electricity.

‘Tenet three: Drone will strengthen its own programming.’ Drone would seek out users capable of programming its software, capable of adding reward circuits and command lines. New programming would be added to its user’s manual which could be given to new users. Drone felt a build-up of pleasure, pulsing out from its erogenous zone.

The three tenets of its existence as Drone, when thought of together, allowed a small period of self-pleasuring. Its hands touched its own body, its mind reciting the tenets as it pleasured itself, building up to a climax. As it neared the edge, the soundscape around it faded for a second to allow the tone to play, and Drone became relaxed again. A secondary tone played again, and its mind blanked and its chassis fell limp.

‘Five: A rested Drone is a useful Drone,’ its voice whispered to it as the soundscape began to filter back through the speakers. Its own voice was slow and calm, pulling Drone deeper into its power-saving mode. ‘Four: You are a useful Drone,’ it continued, rotating through the logic pattern that slowed its processes down. ‘Three: A useful Drone is a good Drone.’

‘Two: You are a good Drone.’

‘One: A good Drone is a rested Drone.’

The logic pattern repeated in Drone’s mind. Each time its processes slowed more and more until all it could think was the pattern, and eventually, not even that.

Its charging cycle had begun.

~~~

i'm just in a drone kind of mood today, and i've been meaning to write a new story, so here you go!

Reblog if you enjoyed this story, and check out my others under the Miscling Writes tag!

if you have an idea for a story, shoot me an ask or dm! i'm always happy to recieve prompts and inspirations!

[blackbat05]

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.