#like i was cleaning for two days in a row and all i listened to was tally hall

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently

Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance

It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.

“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”

“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”

You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.

“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”

“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”

You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”

“Great, see you in a few.”

“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.

You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.

Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.

With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 

Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 

It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.

Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.

He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.

Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.

Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.

The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.

You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.

He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.

“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 

He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”

You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 

“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.

You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”

He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”

“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”

You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.

“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.

“Well,” you laugh.

“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”

You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”

“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”

“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”

“That could be forever, for all you know.”

“That’s fine with me.”

You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”

“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”

He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 

“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 

“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”

“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”

“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”

He smirked. “I noticed.”

You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”

He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”

“And then come back here for a movie?”

“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 

The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”

“…kind of.”

“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”

“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”

Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.

The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.

[awfcspencer]

reader feels ugly and just upset and leah comforts? pure fluff I beg xx

Don’t Listen To Them || leah williamson x reader

prompt: requested! Social media can be a cruel, cruel place.

warnings: self confidence issues

a/n: hope you enjoy it! happy v-day to those who celebrate <33

Inside your shared home, you and Leah decided to stay in and build a charcuterie board as a snack before you both cuddle up together and watch a film. For dinner, Leah had lit some candles and put on some slow music while she watched you cook her favorite chicken alfredo pasta recipe. The both of you decided to pop a bottle of red wine as a nice way to end the jampacked week. Dinner was relaxing, enjoying one another’s company and talking about miscellaneous topics. Leah cleaned up the reminiscent of dinner as you began on the board. Organizing the charcuterie board was pretty simple, you had found a Pinterest photo to recreate, and Leah had accompanied you to the grocery store to collect the items you would need.

 Placing the finishing touches on the board, you grabbed your phone located on the other side of the kitchen island. The board had taken you a lot longer than you assumed it would, but you wanted it to be perfect, so you found yourself examining the picture intricately and making sure everything was placed exactly. 

Leah had become bored roughly about 10 minutes into creating the board, she paced back and forth around the kitchen and occasionally sighed loudly to really get the point across that she was bored.

“Wait let me take a photo first Lee,” As you swat her hand away for what felt like the hundredth time tonight from the perfectly aligned board that she had been secretly picking at each time you would set a row of crackers or stack of pepperonis in place. Each time she would eat off the board, you would have to replace the food and scold her. It was like baking a cake with a toddler who would lick frosting off the spoon when you weren’t looking.

“Oh silly me how could I forget Instagram eats first.” Rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote in the living room to put on a movie. “Mamma Mia tonight?” It was always a go-to in the home. You loved the cute little plot and Leah liked singing the ABBA songs loudly in your ear.

“Perfect idea baby,” nodding your head towards the blonde. Carefully balancing the food in your left hand as you make your way towards the couch after you took the perfect photo. Then remembering that you have to get back up and grab the two red wine glasses the two of you had been nursing before. Placing yourself between the defender’s long legs on the L-shaped couch, leaning backwards into her as she placed her head on your shoulder, placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t start what you can’t finish Williamson.” Whispering as you kissed her now reddened cheeks.

You grabbed a few of the pepperoni’s and tossed them into your mouth, reaching your hand back and allowing Leah to have a few after she made a toddler-like gesture and a huff indicating that she wanted one.

“I sometimes think you are a 26-year-old stuck in a toddler’s body.” All night Leah had managed to find some way to annoy or antagonize you, all in fun though. 

Pretending to be offended, “Well toddlers don’t cuddle so maybe I should get up.” Making a move to get up and sit on the opposite side of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t get up, I am comfy, and you are warm.” You plead out in a joking manner, turning towards her placing a kiss on the tip of her nose as you forced her back down to her original position.

“So nice to me now but less than 30 seconds ago you were mean.” Folding her arms across her body and a stern look on her face. You wanted to make a comment about the state of which is looked right now, how it was so toddler-like, but you refrained, settling with a loud laugh.

“Momentary lapse of character” Reaching out to grab a peace treaty as an apology, “Olive?”

“You know the way to my heart, apology accepted.” As she takes it from your grasp and plops it into her mouth, pulling you back closer to her from her previous fake exit as you leaned into her chest.

Opening Instagram to post the pictures you had taken throughout the night. “Do you want me to tag you?” Organizing the selected photos on the screen and applying final touches on the photos. Ending it by adding a song in the background that had been playing when Leah grabbed you away from the masterpiece you had been creating and pulled you in for a quick salsa twirl and leaned you backwards and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah so I can repost it” as she watched you create the post. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few months, baking in the privacy for a bit before you let the whole world know. Each week that had passed, you and Leah got less and less subtle, performing a ‘soft launch’ through similar locations but different angles or the way she would repost your stories. This specific collection of photos was new though as it featured a slide of a side profile of Leah looking down at the board. It also had only 2 dinner plates, 2 sets of silverware, and 2 wine glasses in one of the photos, indicating it was in fact a date.

The fans had started to catch on and for the most part, the reactions had been mostly positive. Opposite of your life, Leah’s life was in the spotlight. Everything she did, everything she said, and everywhere she went was documented on some sort of social media outlet. Your account had maybe a few thousand followers, most of them you had gained from when Leah first started reposting your posts. So this post would set in stone that you and Leah were officially an item. 

Clicking upload and then facing your phone downward on the table, cuddling backwards more into Leah with your back into her chest. Baking in her warm body, strong arms, and vanilla scent. “Omg who is this beautiful blonde in the third slide?” Gushing over herself as she quickly reposts your photos and places her phone next to yours, pulling you in tighter. “Always so humble Lee” gently swatting her on the thigh as she clicked play.

Every few minutes throughout the movie, your phone would go off, a little buzz that at first you just assumed was a few Instagram likes but after what felt like your phone was vibrating every second, you untangle slightly from Leah and grab your phone.

Your post had over 100,000 likes and several comments from people who you definitely did not know. You scroll casually through the notifications on your device. A few negative comments stuck out to you and when you opened the app, you were greeted with hundreds more.

‘Can’t believe she is dating THE Leah Williamson.’ 

‘Leah definitely downgraded.’

Several comments simply just said, ‘ugly’. The hurtful comments went on and on.

Private accounts and faceless profiles, people would say anything they desired behind a screen when there were no direct consequences. Harsh words that initially you were able to push to the side, but each one that you read dug a little deeper. The response was overwhelming, there were new comments each minute, and almost none of them were nice. It hurt and each one you read felt more real. You could feel the tears coming, the emotions coming out, so you briefly excused herself saying you needed to use the restroom, desperately hoping that the way your voice cracked was unnoticeable.

The words felt true as you locked eyes in the mirror with yourself. Where you enough to be with someone like Leah? I mean she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and what were you? Staring at yourself in the mirror you noticed each and every blemish, freckle, or pore on your face, and the tears began to fall. The grey sweatsuit that you had initially put on for the chill date now felt ugly on your frame, you wanted to rip the clothes off. Someone who was dating Leah Williamson wouldn’t wear such an ugly outfit.

Back on the couch, Leah was beginning to get worried at the amount of time you had been gone. The part Leah knew was your favorite was coming up so she reached for the remote on the coffee table to pause it so you could enjoy it when you returned. In attempting to pause the movie, she noticed your phone open on your Instagram comment section. The vulgar comments made her sick. They were piling in with each minute that passed, and she felt angry, but then she felt sad. She quickly left the couch and rushed to the bathroom, desperately hoping that maybe the pasta didn’t sit right, or you were busy washing your hands. 

A soft knock on the door took your eyes off the mirror. “Hey babe, you all good in there?” the blonde questioned. Leah’s heart was beating out of her chest because she had heard the soft sniffles from outside the door as she walked up to it. She knew you had read the comments. She wanted to run in and immediately convince you that not a single one of those comments were true, but she didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Don’t come in.” You didn’t mean to scream at her, you weren’t angry with her, but you did not want her to see you like this, your makeup now smeared and tears freely falling from your eyes. You quickly locked the door and rushed to the opposite side of the bathroom. She would break up with you, she would realize the comments were true, you were ugly. You were fidgeting with your hair, a trait you’ve had since primary school when you got overwhelmed or nervous, it was a way to calm down.

“Baby please let me in, nothing any of those comments said is true. Nothing.” She pleaded, hoping she could convince you to let her in. She wanted to pull you into a big hug and say anything and everything she could to help you see that nothing they said was true or how she felt.

“You don’t mean that.” Your head was clouded, only being able to replay each and every comment in your brain. Your eyes continued to shift uncontrollably across different sections of your face or body that you felt ashamed of in the mirror.

“I love the way your baby hairs stand out even though you try and try to brush them down in the morning. I love the little crinkle in your nose when you get annoyed or confused about something. I love the way your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you are trying to focus really hard on something. I love your freckles, every single one, especially when you get some sun and they especially become vibrant. I love the way you lick your lips before you speak. I love the way each time you laugh or smile I can see the indent on your cheeks of your dimples even though you try and claim you don’t have them. I love the way you twirl your hair into curls when you get stressed. I love your eyes, it is like I can see a sparkle in them when you look at something you love. I love the way you close your eyes sometimes because you say it helps you think more clearly. I love you baby, every single inch of you. Those comments do not know you like I know you. They do not see how truly beautiful you are to me,” the compliments gushing out of Leah like it was second nature, truly meaning each and every word.

There was silence on your side of the door, taking in what Leah said. A click of the door as you unlocked it and Leah rushed in and to your side immediately. You sobbed into the defender’s chest as she rubbed large circles on your back.

“Thank you, Lee, really.” Your breathing had returned to normal and your heart no longer felt like it was racing. You felt safe and loved in the blonde's embrace.

“It is only you baby, you are my love. Don’t listen to them,” pulling you in tighter and placing a soft kiss on your temple as she forced you to look her in the eyes. She took her thumb and brushed over the final tears that escaped your eye. 

“I can’t believe I let social media get to me, this is so stupid. I’m sorry for crying and for ruining our date,” your voice no louder than a whisper as you look down at the bathroom tile. 

She forces your head back up with a finger under your chin, “It’s not stupid baby. I get it, it can be a lot. But anytime you feel like it all gets too much, I want you to talk to me. I want to know. And you never need to apologize to me, and certainly not for crying baby.” 

Another wave of silence fell over the bathroom. The two of you are still huddled in each other's arms, swaying slightly left and right as you come down from the major wave of emotions previously.

"I'm pretty sure we still have mint chocolate ice cream from last week," she quietly whispered, a small upward quirk of her lip that turned into a soft smile. She knew it was your favorite and that you rarely let yourself keep it inside the household because you would easily eat a whole pint. You matched her grin, locking her fingers with yours, and pulled her towards the kitchen.

Two spoons and one large bowl of ice cream was shared between the two of you. Leah had made the final touches by adding chocolate syrup and way too much whipped cream. You took your pointer finger to swipe the white cream and tapped Leah on the nose.

"Who is acting like a toddler now?" wiping her nose with a nearby napkin as you shrugged and placed another large bite into your mouth.

[theblueflower05]

Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

[bindeds]

[ BITE ME. ] : 1k words » LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — lucifer sees you reading dracula by bram stoker and apparently he thinks it’s one of the best things that came out of giving humans free will. so he indulges in it.

#tags. biting (obviously), vampire teeth, replication of the seductive nature of vampires, suggestive, blood sucking, blood, explicit consent

a/n. thank you so much for 100 followers! i was supposed to disclose what i wanted to do for 100 followers but i promise i pack a lot of punches! stay tuned for that post bc i will be doing a LOT of things for you personally!

mlist. request something! :>

You were completely and utterly trapped in the jaws that belonged to Lucifer Morningstar as he lifted your chin. His eyes dropped to half-mast as your neck had been exposed to him, the clean skin glowed under the odd lighting of the hotel.

“What’s that you’re reading, honey?”

It’s an amazing thing, whatever it is he’s doing to you right now. Forget the heat rising to your cheeks. Forget that you’d complied to the fact that your neck is very vulnerable in the current state he held you in; your delightful book had still been sitting open and comfortable in your lap with your hand still holding onto either side so as not to lose where you left off. And Lucifer …

Well, he kneeled before you on the bed you shared with him, but he most certainly kept that small distance from your book instead of putting it away.

He leaned back a little, and you get a good view of his striped waistcoat and the way it curved around his … well endowed chest.

He grinned. “Dracula. I like that about you.”

“Dracula?” You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “You like Dracula about me?”

“Oh but you must know that’s no laughing matter. Dracula … is one of the best things humans have ever done with their free will. Don’t even talk to me about vampires …”

Your breath hitched. His thumb froze where it hovered over your bottom lip.

“Vampires …” he repeated in a mutter, as if to think aloud.

You scrambled to hold up the book where you could see it, seeing as Lucifer still had your jaw held high and to the side. But the way you could barely keep the book from spilling from your hands had been more than enough to give you away. Fuck, in this pathetic state, you should have been the one kneeling.

Lucifer hovered just below your jaw. His lips parted, and you shut your eyes to embrace the sensory input of his touch completely; his breath fanned and spread across your skin like casting a thick fog over an abandoned island.

“Do you want to be bitten, my love?” His lips gave the faintest flicks against your skin as he spoke. “To be tasted?”

“Maybe,” you said, and it was nearly a sigh when the way he held you was a vice. Your blood vessels ached to be invaded, to be cut off course.

“Hmmm?” He dragged out the syllable like the tease he was. Then two ends like daggers poked you, threatening to tear through your surface.

They relented soon enough, gliding down instead of sinking into your skin. Your muscles blew ice cold at the lack of a threat.

“What about now?” Your name reverberated deep in his throat, the sound caressed your ear like the sweet thing you were in Lucifer’s hands.

You knew for a fact that this couldn’t have been real. Either that, or Lucifer had reformed his teeth just for this moment, in which case, the more you thought about it the more it didn’t seem all that surprising, the way he would do anything to get you flustered.

He pressed damp kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I could do this aaall day, my doll,” Lucifer hummed lightly. He finally let your chin fall to its natural position, only for your eyes to fall on him. His face.

His teeth.

Sure enough, they had turned a completely straight row from cheek to cheek except for the two pointed canines—they were the only teeth that shone in the light.

“Luci …” you sighed, releasing a breath like it was a prayer.

And Lucifer was listening.

He drew closer to you, his lips inches from your own.

“Your fantasies are mine to fulfill,” Lucifer soothed, his hypnotic voice slithering to your head and plucking every coherent thought you had left. “Anything is yours for the asking, you just name it.”

“Please, bite me,” you found yourself pleading softly. You bit your lip, averting your gaze. That was sudden, even for you; your tongue flicked faster than your brain could react. “I—I need you to bite me.”

“Good girl,” Lucifer beamed as his grin returned to him, and he wasted no time as he ducked down to your neck and planted chaste kisses in a concentrated spot where your jugular sat with anticipation.

You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and his hand instinctively supported the side you tilted on. You allowed yourself to rest in the warmth as your shoulders eased up.

“This is going to hurt, but only for a split second,” Lucifer warned in a deep voice. “Then, I will give you nothing but pleasure.”

You gritted your teeth as lightning struck your neck and your hand tightened on his wrist. He stroked his thumb up and down your cheek, and it did well in easing the pain before the dam of rigid pain gave in and pleasure took its place—took all the places.

His tongue lapped at the wound, teeth still anchored in your neck as you felt a bit of yourself, your cells, blood, muscle strength seep out of you steadily. Your head began to spin, but your limbs fell weak at the sensation that had you on the precipice of something you couldn’t name.

Then, his teeth slipped out of your flesh as his tongue took care of the rest—the forked edges covering more ground as if to seal the wound.

“How was that?” Lucifer pulled back immediately, a bright smile incorporated his face as thin trails of blood dripped down to his chin.

Your head had still been knocking against the edges of your skull, but you managed a smile and maybe a bit of a lightheaded chuckle nonetheless. When you readjusted your legs on the bed, trouble swiped cold between your thighs. Oh, well. What were you expecting?

“Kiss me,” you said.

“Sorry?” He asked. “Honey, there’s still blood on my HMMPH—”

You engulfed him in a kiss as you pulled him by the neck and fell back against the bed. He tried to stabilize himself but it didn’t even take another minute more before both of your clothes were as good as trash on the floor.

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Just For Research

Pairing: Professor! Rick Sanchez x College Student! GN! Reader.

Summary: When Rick discovers his top student is a virgin, he knows he must change that so she can write her paper on human pheromones.

Warnings: Smut, Intercourse (P in ?), Virginity Loss, Teacher x Student relationship, Age Gap, Virgin! Reader.

Writing Time: 30 minutes.

Word Count: 652.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 7.

A/N:

Woke up in the middle of the night and decided to just write this. Sorry for any mistakes, this is not proofread. I'm just really trying to make sure everything is written before October arrives so the quality is some fics might be lacking a little, this might be one of them. This is probably my shortest fic so far. Oh well.I also have completely forgotten what it was like in college. I did about 3 months of Combined Science in the UK before I dropped out for an apprenticeship instead and I don't remember anything about those 3 months. So this could be all completely wrong but tbh I really don't care.I tried really hard to keep it GN, which is getting harder and harder for me due to the lack of gender neutral terms in the English language but I'll keep managing.Hope you enjoy, I've been eager to write something for Rick for ages now.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober works.

---///---

Thoughts were swarming your head, making it almost impossible to think about what was currently happening.

'How did this happen?' You thought, 'This couldn't of been an accident, but how then did it happen?'

You let out a torn scream, but Rick was fast to cover your mouth and silence it.

"Shut up little Whore, or the whole building will hear you." He huffed.

Just a second ago you and Rick was discussing your college assignment. Your assignment was to write an essay about the human and animal pheromones that tell them to breed and compare the two. Something fairly basic for a Combined Science class and as the class's top student, Rick expected this assignment to be a breeze for you.

But he had been wrong. For a top student with a bright future in Science, you had no idea about pheromones. Especially the sexual kind. It was the one thing you hadn't studied yourself in your own time nor had you experienced it.

You had come to Rick after class to hopefully explain the subject better for you or give you good resources to look up but once Rick found out you was a virgin, what you got instead was a private lessons on pheromones that included an experimental or practical that would give you the experience.

So now you were bent over his desk taking all of him like the good little one you was.

"Please..." You whimpered, tired and stretched out to the max. It had only been a few minutes but this was completely new to a virgin.

"Please what, Whore?" Rick glared down at you, still thrusting in and out of you at an ungodly pace.

Rick didn't think this was exactly the best way to show someone who had never experienced sexual feelings what they were like, but to be honest, he didn't care. He was just looking for a reason to fuck you. His prettiest most innocent and intelligent little Princess/Prince who always sat in the front row, listening to him with wide ears.

But this had been a good lesson for you. Your sexual desire and need for Professor Sanchez now more than alive, it was insatiable.

"Please more Sir!" You cried.

Rick was a little shocked, but more than happy to oblige. And quickly increased his speed, you looked down and moaned into the once clean desk.

"Yeah? You like this cock? You want more of it, my little cocksleeve?" Rick groaned into your ears.

"Yes!" You nodded eagerly.

Obviously, you came first. You did so with a scream and giant smile. Rick came not too long after you onto your back, with just a few loud grunt.

You was pretty confident now you was gonna Ace this assignment.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[mariposa-writes]

Tears of Joy

Pairing: Captain John Price x wife!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Overview: John thinks you're pregnant, you don't agree.

CW: infertility, self blame, angst to fluff, john being an amazing husband

Author's Note: Please repost, comment, and like. It means the world to me! Let me know what you think and if there are any corrections i need to make. It's like 3am so I'm sure I messed up somewhere lol

Part 2

Price held your hair back, hand rubbing your back as you threw up in the toilet.  This was the third morning in a row that you’d woken up and ran straight to the bathroom. After you’d brushed your teeth and took a shower you meet your husband John in the kitchen.

You scrunched your nose, “What’s that smell?” You asked, trying to figure out what John was cooking.

“Eggs and bacon.” He said as he placed a plate in front of you. You looked at it with uncertainty, before pushing it away from you. “Not hungry, sorry.” You mumbled, not wanting to hurt John’s feelings after he made you breakfast.

Truthfully the thought of eating right now made you nauseous. Which was weird considering you loved eggs and bacon. Actually you loved all things breakfast, you could eat breakfast for every meal.

It was one of the things John loved about you. “Do you want me to make you something else?” John asked, worry apparent in his eyes.

You could always figure out how John was feeling just by looking at his eyes. He showed more than he realized, and after being married for three years it was easy to read him.

You sighed, shacking your head no. “I think I’m just gonna go lay down, I’m still not feeling well.” You got up from the table, placing a kiss on John’s cheek before heading for your shared bedroom.

John watched you retreat to your room. He was starting to get more worried by the day. He found it odd that you were sick, considering that you never got sick. He’d known you for 5 years and only once had you come down with the flu and even then you pushed through, not letting it stop you. Until he basically forced you to rest and give your body time to recover.

He ran a hand down his face, not wanting to think about what could be wrong. After he cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher he went to lay down with you. 

You were curled up in bed, as he climbed in next to you. Molding his body to yours, and pulling you close. His arm around your stomach. You nestled into him even more, just wanting to be close to your husband.

He traced patterns into your arm as you worked on falling asleep. “Babe?” He questioned unsure if you were asleep.

You hummed, letting him know that you were listening. “Do you think you could be pregnant?” He was hesitant to bring up the question, but it was eating away at him as he laid there with you.

“No.” You answered, already wanting the conversation to be over. You should’ve pretended to be asleep.

“When was the last time you had your period.”

You shrugged your shoulders, ever since you were a teen your period had been irregular. Your gyno had warned you that it might mess with your fertility, making it harder to have kids in the future. You’d warned John when you’d gotten together and again when things got more serious.

He told you that it didn’t matter as long as he had you. 

Despite all that it didn’t make it any easier, every time you had to look at a negative pregnancy test. You knew John wanted and family and so did you and no matter how much John reassured you that it wasn’t your fault and he was fine with it just being the two of you it didn’t help lessen the sting. 

After a while John started to notice the toll it was taking on you. After every negative you seemed to lose more and more of the light that shined in your eyes. He hated seeing how you seemed to be deteriorating no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

Eventually the two of you stopped buying pregnancy tests and dropped the subject all together. It’d been almost a year since you last took a test and John noticed how you seemed lighter without the subject hanging over you head.

“What if you just take one test?” John suggested. You heaved out a breath throwing the covers off of you.

“No, nothings going to change. It’s going to be negative.” He could tell you were growing irritated. He could tell you just wanted to drop the subject, but something about this time felt different. He had hope which was something he hadn’t had in a quite some time.

“Where are you going?” He asked, getting up to follow.

“A walk.” You said as you slipped on your shoes and a hoodie. “Don’t follow me.” You said before slamming the front door shut. 

You knew it wasn’t fair to John, but you hadn’t thought about having a child in a long time. You’d given up on the idea. You knew it was just as hard for John, but he wasn’t the one that had to feel like a failure every time a test came back negative. 

He never blamed you, but it didn’t matter. You blamed yourself and that was enough. Even the doctors said everything was fine, when John insisted on getting his sperm count checked. 

You were the problem, you were the reason you would never have a family.

John should’ve married someone that could’ve given him children, not you. You were standing in the way of his dreams.

These were the thoughts that made it difficult to get through the day. You felt bad for being rude to John, but sometimes it was easier to avoid the problem than confront it head on. 

You finally returned to the house once it started to drizzle. John was waiting on the porch swing, making sure you got back okay. 

He didn’t say anything as you entered the house, deciding to stay put and give you your space. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew that sometimes you liked to deal with stuff on your own and when you were ready you would come to him.

A few minutes later the door was opening. You handed him a container with yellow liquid in it. “Here.” You handed him the container.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but if it’s negative don’t tell me and don’t bring the test in the house and after this I don’t want you to bring it up again. I’m sorry for being rude earlier, but it just hurts to much.” He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into his chest.

“Thank you baby, I love you no matter what.” He kissed you, “You know that right?”

“I know, I love you too. Now go.” You said ushering him off the porch. As much as you tried not to get your hopes up, you secretly hoped he’d tell you the results. You hoped he’d bring the test into the house and you hoped he’d get to bring up the subject again.

You were in the living room, tidying up while trying to keep your mind busy when John returned. You didn’t even have time to process that he was home before he was picking you up and spinning you in a circle.

He had the biggest smile on his face as he kissed you. Butterflies appeared in your stomach, you didn’t even have to ask if the test was positive. You could tell by his reaction, the whole world would be able to tell if they were watching the two of you. After what felt like hours he set you down, his arms still holding you close to him.

“It was positive.” He beamed, as he stared down at you. The smile he had on his face might’ve beat the one he had on your wedding day. You didn’t even have time to respond, before his lips were on yours again.

You hadn’t felt this happy in such a long time and it was like this weight was instantly lifted off your chest. He kissed you over and over again, before breaking away. “Oh my god, I have to tell the team!” He was so giddy that it made you want to cry.

The pure joy radiating off of him, brought tears to your eyes. “Wait, why are you crying?” He asked, instantly becoming worried. He wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t know, I’m not sad. I’m happy, so happy.” This time you kissed him, bring him down to your level. You pulled back, “They’re tears of joy.” You laughed.

This right here was everything you ever wanted.

[thatsdemko]

neighbor - m.barzal

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol + mentions of first round 2023 playoffs

a/n: feedback is always appreciated xx

he’s your neighbor for Christs sake, but you can’t help but stare. ever since the very attractive brunette across the way started opening his blinds more, you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gravitate more towards that window.

and how could you not? half the time he’s in an unbuttoned linen shirt and sweatpants walking around his apartment, while the other half he’s dressed to the nines in a suit and tie. needless to say, he’s quite nice to stare at.

he hasn’t caught on, but every so often he pretends to stretch a couple feet away in front of the window to stare at you. he pretty much knows your morning routine, how you get up in nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants, you start your coffee pot first thing, and usually play with your cat for the next thirty minutes before you disappear to work.

he’s seen you in your outfits for the bars to your next morning hungover pajamas, and he’s even seen you when you think nobody else can. it’s okay, he won’t say a thing but he does enjoy the show every so often.

it’s two in the morning when he’s awake, playoffs just about to start his mind can’t help to wander. it’s prompted him to slip outside, enjoy the fresh air to clear his thoughts.

“you look cold.” you say watching his head snap in your direction, you’re met with none other than his eyes. the ones you made bets about how pretty they would be in person, and you were right, they were gorgeous.

“oh,” he says looking down at himself, he’s in nothing but sweatpants and a pair of slides. it didn’t take him until you said something to realize the weather outside his apartment is actually unpleasant, and rather chilly for a man who’s not wearing a shirt.

“I’m y/n, I think my window looks at yours.”

he nods moving over on the bench allowing you to sit, “I’m mat, it’s nice to finally put a name to your face.” he watches you take a seat all the way at the edge, a nervous smile placing your face as you two listen to the sirens and faint voices of the city.

“so why are you awake?” he bites first, pulling his arms across his chest to try and stay warm. it’s too early to invite you back to his place, sit inside his heated space, he’ll just have to make due to keep warm until it’s the right time.

you shrug, “lots to think about, you?” you turn to him and he nods, you watch him run his fingers through his short brown hair. you remember the day he came home with a buzz cut, your friends practically mourned the loss.

“yeah works getting a little competitive I’d say.” he sighs, eyes looking upward at the stars, only a few shine bright in the cities skies. it makes him miss home, the amount of stars he’d see in the sky are much brighter and clearer than the clouded ones of New York.

“is that why you dress up sometimes? sorry, I don’t mean to sound weird I just see you—“

his laugh cuts you off, of all those times you’ve seen him laugh you never expected it to sound like it does against your ears. it brings a smile to your face. “kind of, although I’m supposed to dress clean for work, bosses demand.”

“so that’s why you got a buzz cut?” you ask moving a little closer to him, you can see the goosebumps that decorate his arms.

“that was my own doing.”

“a poor decision if I must say so.” you snap back, watching him roll his eyes in response. he mutters a couple words you can’t hear but you don’t press to figure them out.

“I must say, you’re judging me a lot for someone who wears the same clothes three days in a row.” he sends you a playful wink and you’re thankful for the night lights that don’t cast over your red cheeks of embarrassment.

“I think I’m going to start closing my blinds from you.”

—

he moves in front of his window, suit jack and button up shirt holding two different ties in each hand. holding them up, you move to the window from the kitchen to point at the one you like the most. you’re liking this new found friendship, ever since that late night on the bench, things have been awfully fun and exciting.

you’d go to your window, hold up whatever decision you had and he’d answer with his opinion. you’d see each other on the streets more often than you expected, and sometimes he’d even walk you to your office for work. he was becoming a friend rather than just some neighbor.

“then my friends and I were thinking of going to the bars, you’re more than welcome to come! I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” you nudge his shoulder with your elbow listening to him hiss at the burnt coffee that split over his hand.

“I’d love to but I actually have a date tonight.” he proudly smiles, it’s the first you’d talk about relationships. you always assumed he was single. having not seen a single woman over in his place, unless it was his mother, so it makes since the bachelor was getting lonely in his nice pad.

you’re just not sure why you feel your throat closeup and the saliva in your mouth make it impossible for you to start a sentence.

“but if I change my mind you’ll text me the address?” he stops in front of your office, and all you can do is nod before bidding him a quiet goodbye before rushing up the stairs to the big doors of your building.

when you finally get up there, you heave out a long breath finally feeling your throat clear and salvia dry your mouth. boy, did you have a story to tell your girlfriends tonight.

they were rooting for you two, saying it’s a perfect trope of boy meets girl and boy next door. and yeah maybe you were also rooting for it happen too, because as time went on you developed feelings for him that were more than just a crush. you began to enjoy his company more and more, you just wish maybe he enjoyed it the same amount.

—

when he enters the bar of the location you’ve sent him, it’s not hard to find you. your smile brightens up any room, and can easily be spotted a mile away. after a shitty date, seeing you was all he wanted.

he moves throughout the sweaty bodies, couple of them offer pats to his shoulders congratulating him on the playoffs achievements, but none of those matter. he’s more focused on getting closer to you, and when he does a man that had been blocked by other bodies comes into focus.

he’s got his hand on your hip, as he yells into your ear, whatever it was made you laugh, but nothing like how mat made you laugh. he had the ability to get your full unhinged reaction, your body leaning forward and a snort or two. he thinks it’s cute.

your attention shifts when you recognize that familiar body that’s standing a couple feet away, “mat, you came!” you exclaim, motioning for him to come closer and he does.

“no way you know mat barzal.” the guy you’re talking to is stunned as he extends a hand, mat gladly takes it assuming he’s fan, “I fucking hope the canes destroy you guys.”

mat quick to withdraws his hand from the other guys grip, you give the two a confused look having no clue what they are talking about, “mat barzal, islanders player? please tell me you watch sports.” he laughs. you shake your head slowly looking up at your neighbor, who’s nervously playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“hey man congratulations though!” the guy you’re talking to excuses himself, and you’re pretty sure he won’t be coming back, but that’s fine. mat’s here and from what you remember, it means his date didn’t go as planned.

“so you’re alone, it didn’t go well?” you turn to him and he shrugs a slight nod. he watches you play with the tiny straws in your drink trying to slurp the rest of the liquid.

“how many of those you had?” he chuckles watching you nearly chug half the drink before he jokingly pulls it away from your lips, “easy now.”

“I don’t know, they’ve all been free.”

he laughs watching you sway side to side from the music, but the alcohol that’s following through your body, “why don’t I buy you a glass of water and we can go home?” he offers, you happily nod heading to say goodbye to your friends.

once you’re out the doors of the bar, he drapes his coat around your shoulders and he offers for you to come inside his place. you’re eager to see the rest whether you’ll remember it or not, but you nod following him inside saying hello to his doorman.

when you enter his place most of it isn’t what you expected it to be. it’s minimal decorations, only a few decorative pieces of art work hang on the walls, and a hockey stick hangs above his dinning room table.

“Crosby’s stick. he gave it to me after my first game against him. I nearly cried.” he laughs watching you move across his floors taking in his space, you stop at the infamous window and look inside your apartment.

you can se the hallway that leads to your bedroom, the cat tree where you cat sleeps in, and the living room where you spend most of your time entertaining your boring nights.

“I didn’t realize how much you see of me.” you turn to him, he’s seated on his cream colored couch shaking his head.

“I look over yeah, but I know when to look away.”

“like when?” you dangerously ask, moving to sit beside him on his couch, he positions himself to look at you.

“okay like when you get out of the shower and you have on no towel, I know to look away. I’m not a pervert.” he scoffs having remembered the time his mother was over and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of you.

you gasp, hand covering your mouth, “do not tell me you’ve seen me in nothing but my underwear and bra?!”

he gives you look of confirmation without even saying the words, you hide your face into one of his pillows hearing that beautiful laugh ring your ears, “oh come on! it’s okay, I’m sure you’ve seen me in my underwear before.”

you pull your face away from the pillow with rosy red cheeks, “yeah but that’s different! you walk around in your shorts and nothing on all the time!”

he smirks, “oh so you do watch me?” watching you shove your face into the pillow of embarrassment once more.

“it’s okay, I like knowing it’s you watching me rather than some other girl. I was beginning to think you didn’t notice.”

you pull your face away from the pillow tossing it aside, “what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, and it’s his faces turn to light up red.

“isn’t it obvious?”

you shake your head, “it’s as obvious as you playing a sport!”

he laughs moving a little closer to you on the couch, “I wouldn’t be asking someone which tie to wear if I didn’t like them a little more than a friend.” he places a hand against your kneecap watching you lean back against his couch.

“you like me more than just a neighbor?”

“I guess it’s not as obvious as I thought it would be.”

you shake your head, “you’re horrible at making things obvious, but it’s okay we can work on it.”

[bingbongsupremacy]

The Nanny Pt. 2

Pairing: Father! Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: I have never been on a tour bus. I've done a bit of research so I have an idea of what they look like. The bus portions might not be completely accurate, especially since they're supposed to be from the 1980-90's. Sorry if it's not 100% accurate. Also swearing.

Series Summary: Years ago you and Eddie used to be friends. After you graduated, you two fell out of contact. After years of not speaking to each other, Eddie offers you a job you can't resist; be a nanny for his little girl.

Part Summary: It's time to start your new job; nannying for the child of a rock star.

*Not Proof Read*

Tag List: @maskofmirrors @saucypeanuttt @hugdealer

******

Was this a good idea?

I stare up at the large bus looming over me. It casts a shadow over my body, leaving me feeling cold.

Can I handle this? I've never been away from Hawkins for longer than a few months. What if something goes wrong? What if I get fired?

" You can come in, ya know. " Eddie's voice startles me.

I look over at the previously empty door frame. Eddie's chest and head peek past the shiny black door frame. His style hasn't changed a bit. Still the same old Eddie.

Or is it?

" I promise we don't bite. " Eddie's voice is playful. It's comforting. Familiar.

" I hope. I'm really not interested in getting rabies anytime soon. " I joke back, trying to shake off the uneasiness. Eddie wouldn't hurt me. Not with his kid on board. Plus, I grew up with the other guys. They might look scary but I could beat their asses if it really came down to it.

Eddie's laugh is exactly the same. Warm and smooth, something that's so easy to listen to and get lost in. Something you want to hear over and over again.

Eddie moves out of the way so I can get onto the bus. " I was worried you got lost. Sorry I couldn't pick you up today. Rose decided it was the perfect day to get get marker on every possible portion of her skin. "

I let out a small laugh at the sight of Eddie's slightly frustrated sigh. " Oh no. "

He cracks a small smile. " Don't worry, I was able to get it all off. She's slightly less green now. I hope it wasn't too stressful getting here. "

As he talks Eddie leads me towards the back of the bus.

This place if fucking huge. I mean, they are global rockstars. Why wouldn't it be?

I had no idea a bus could hold this much stuff. It's basically a mini apartment. Everything looks brand new. The leather couches are glossy and luxurious, something I definitely couldn't afford on my own.

" It wasn't that bad. It's kinda hard to miss a huge bus in the middle of Hawkins. I mean, we don't get much action down here. But you know that, duh. You lived. " I don't know why I feel so awkward. So nervous. It's the new environment, it has to be. I'll get used to it.

We pass a few rows of what I assume are bunks. Clothes are scattered along the floor and partially hanging out of a few of the bunks. This is definitely where Gareth, Doug and Jeff sleep.

" This is the boy's area. " My suspicions confirmed. " Fuck. " Eddie mutters, nearly tripping over a hidden pile of magazines. " I told them to clean this shit up earlier. Obviously they don't listen. " Eddie reaches down and snags one of the partially open magazines off of the ground.

A nearly naked woman holding an open notebook to cover her chest stares back up at him.

" I'm gonna have to talk to him about this. Jeff can't just have this shit lying around in the open when Rosie's on the bus. " Eddie chucks the magazine into one of the bunks, shaking his head in disapproval.

We finally get to the last section of the bus, a separated room. " I just wanted to let you know about a few of the rules I have for Rosie. " He pulls a small slip of paper out of his black ripped jeans. " I didn't know if I should make a list. I've never really had a nanny before. I figured it's better safe than sorry. " His eyes scan over the ripped white sheet in his hands. The back has streaks of green and blue, something I'm guessing is curtesy of Rose.

" I really want to try to get her to bed at 8. 8:30 at most. I've been a bit lax about it the past few days since we're trying to adjust to the whole tour bus thing, but I read that structure's like really important for a kid so I'm trying to do that. As much as I can I mean. It's a little difficult on tour. " He lets out a small tired laugh. The past few days have definitely taken a toll on him.

" I get that. I'll do my best to get her to bed on time. " I reassure him, hoping to take some of the stress off of his plate.

" Thanks. " His eyes meet mine. " That'd really help me out a ton. I'm trying to keep cursing away from Rose. So please no curse words around her. "

" Oh my, Gareth, Doug, and Jeff not swearing? That's a first for sure. " I say in slight disbelief. I never thought I'd see the day.

Eddie chuckles. " It's a struggle. They slip up sometimes. I do too. It's hard not to, but I really don't want Rose to end up being that kid who curses in every sentence in class. At least not until high school. " Eddie hands the small slip of paper to me. " She's not allowed to have any photos taken of her. I understand that's going to be hard with the fuck-sorry, freaking paparazzi, but just maybe try to cover her face or something if they manage to find us or see her. People know what she looks like so if something does manage to get taken, I'm not going to flip out. I just don't feel comfortable with her face being everywhere on anything. "

I nod. " I completely understand. I wouldn't want my kid's pictures out there like that. I'll do what I can. "

" Thanks. Alright, I think that's really it right now. If something comes up I'll let you know. " Eddie opens the door and immediately a small head pokes out from one of the curtains blocking what I'm guessing are the beds. " This is the bunk room where everyone sleeps.

" You! " Rose squeaks, pointing a small finger at me. She jumps out of the bottom bunk she's on before launching herself in our direction. The small bunny from before is still tightly clutched under her arm, this time it's got a plastic pink necklace around it's neck and a bright purple bow squishing the two ears together. " Hi. " She grins up at me.

Faded green lines cover the tops of her hands. She's dressed in a small princess-like outfit, a stark contrast in color to the mostly dark bus.

Like her, her bunk is covered by a princess themed curtain, the only curtain that's a color other than black.

I smile down at the small girl. " Hey, Rose. How are you today? " I ask, bending slightly to meet her eye level.

" Good! I-I have a tea party wif- wif daddy and den we ated cookies! " She exclaims. " Daddy leted (Let) me play wif his gui-guigar (guitar) today too! "

Eddie chuckles, ruffling the wild curls of the little girl. " It's guitar, baby. "

" That's what I said! " She sasses, her face crinkling into an annoyed pout.

Eddie rolls his eyes. " This child. "

" I wonder where she gets that from. " I tease the man.

He places a hand on his heart. " Well, I have no idea. Couldn't be me. It hurt you'd assume I'm the dramatic one. " He pouts dramatically. His pout is nearly identical to the mini him standing inches away from us.

There's no way in hell someone could think they're not related. From the attitude to the hair, the genetics stand strong.

" This is your bunk. It's right above Rosie's. Your shelves are right here. " He pulls out three shelves on the right side of the bunks. " And this is your closet. " He gestures to the taller portion up top. " I'm right across from Rosie and usually the bunk up top is used for storage unless we have an extra guest or something. " Eddie leans back against his bunk. " It's a little tight in here but it's only temporary. We'll be outta here in a day or so and on our way to Texas. "

I pull open the curtain that hides my bed. A small fully made bed sits on the other side. A portable lamp sits neatly tucked in the top corner by a fluffed-out pillow. It's tight but there's still enough room to move around a bit. " Are we flying? " I ask curiously. I assumed that at some point or another, we'd be flying. That's something that's made me a bit anxious. I've never been on a plane before.

" Yeah-Whoa! " Eddie lets out a surprised gasp.

Rose giggles as she clings to her father's tattoo-covered arms. He's upgraded from the small stick n pokes to a few larger pieces. " Daddy I jumpted good. "

Eddie pulls Rose up to his chest, tightly hugging her while playfully swinging her around. " Yah you did kiddo. " He says with amusement in his tone. His gaze returns back to me. " I bought you tickets for all of the flights and rooms at the hotels we're staying at so everything is covered. "

" Thank you. " I smile at the guy.

He's changed. He seems...calmer. Less reckless than the kid I knew years ago. Having Rose' has probably changed that. He's mature now.

" Of course, you're doing me a huge favor. " He gently sets his kid back onto the ground. " By the way, if you need anything, please let me know. I can get it for you. Or let our assistant Gina know. She's got one of my cards too. "

" I feel like I'm getting more out of this than you are. " I say softly. " You're giving me so much. I feel bad for taking all of your money. "

Eddie shakes his head, his curles flying out. " You don't need to feel bad for anything. I promise. You're gonna help me out so much. I was stressing so bad trying to find someone to help with Rose. I was so worried I wouldn't find someone in time. I'm just giving you the resources to help you guys live comfortably. And you're not spending all of my money. I promise you. I wouldn't be doing all of this if I couldn't afford to. " Eddie says honestly.

" Thanks Ed. " I send him a small smile.

A part of me still feels a little bad but the other part is so excited. I've never done anything like this before. I can't wait to see what happens.

" The guys will be back from the gas station anytime soon and then we'll hit the road. It's probably best if you get all of your stuff put away so you're not flying around back here when we take off. " Eddie reaches into Rose' bunk where she's retreated back into. She lets out a loud squeal as she's pulled into the light by her father, her hands gripping tightly onto two small dolls.

" Daddy! "

Eddie chuckles at her frustrated shout. " I'm going to take this one on a walk to get her jitters out so she doesn't destroy the bus while we're on the road. " Eddie tickles Rose' tummy. " Isn't that right, baby? You're full of energy, aren't ya? Aren't ya? " His voice switches into a baby voice as he pulls his face close to his daughters.

She lets out a loud belly laugh. " No! Daddy Stop! " She shouts in between giggles.

Eddie sets Rose on his hip, careful not to bump her into anything. " We'll be back. " He says before leading her back to the enterence of the bus.

I watch as they walk away, a smile on my face.

This is going to be interesting.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#380

“Boy, that took you long enough.  Did it come out clear three times in a row?...  Good.  I don’t want no fag mud on my hog.  I will beat the shit out of you if I go to fuck you and you ain’t clean.  And it won’t be the fun kind of beating the shit out of you.  It will be your responsibility to keep your hole clean.  You understand?

“…You seem to be taken aback by what I’m saying, or when I told you to go clean out not one hour after we first met.  Look, I’m 63 years old, I don’t have the patience for beating around the bush.  I’m blunt.

“When Leonard assigned you to train with me, he knew that I only train faggots.  I know him, and he would not have brought up my name as a seasoned trainer unless he told you that I’m a fag fucker.  For the next 11 weeks, you will be the fag I mostly fuck.

“What did he tell you about me?...  That I have been ‘A truck driver for forty years and that I’m a total top.’  Ok.  Did he also tell you I have a fat sausage?  He probably did; I use his cunt from time to time, and he loved to brag to the other fags that he can take me.

“Oh finally, that car is pulling out of here…. 

“Strip….  I said ‘Strip.’  Now listen here you little faggot.  I don’t know what you thought was going to happen between us, but that’s my rig.  My rig!  It’s not the company’s.  I create the rules.  They are not negotiable.  At the end of the eleven weeks, you will be a damned good truck driver and well trained cum dump.

“Look you can see a mile up the road.  Not much on the road right now, we have plenty of advanced notice if someone should approach let alone pull off.  Now strip.

“Faggot, you are going to learn very fast that I think about sex just about all the time….  Wait, let me guess, you don’t like being called a ‘faggot?’  For fuck’s sake.  OK, I won’t call you Faggot.  Does that make you feel better… Cunt?

“Cunt you will leave this pecker alone.  Now turn around and show me that cleaned out cunt.  Whew!  That hole sure is pretty.  That prettiness won’t last a minute.  Spread your legs and put your fingertips on the asphalt.  Your master is coming in.

“One thing you will learn is, I love to fuck.  When I’m waiting for a load to be unloaded, I fuck.  When I have to refuel, I fuck.  When I am driving, I’m thinking about fucking.  I always have a small bottle of lube in my pocket for times like this.  Now hold still.  I’m going right to the root, and I expect you to scream your fucking head off.

“I love fucking a naked cunt outside in the middle of the day, especially far from anyone to hear the screams.  Now scream!  Oh hell yes.  Scream motherfucker.  You don’t want to hurt, then accommodate me!  Your focus in on my cock, always.  Always.  When we are driving across the country and you are tied up to the bunk with your cunt facing the front, your focus is on my cock.  When I am asleep and you are driving naked with a large butt plug in your cunt, your focus is on my cock.  When I bring you to a cruise spot and have anonymous men use your cunt, your focus is on my cock.  When I am taking a belt to your ass, your focus is on my cock.  When I bring you back to my home in Minnesota and install you under my rimseat, your focus in on my shithole first and then on my cock.

“You got all that?...  Cunt!  I don’t give a shit how much pain my dick is inflicting.  If I did care, the answer would probably be ‘Not enough.’  Don’t worry, after a day or two, you will be stretched out enough so that this is not that much of a struggle.  Hell, I already feel your cunt relax to accept me now. 

“This is your life for the next eleven weeks.  This is why you will be douching out daily.  I’m also going to control what you eat, that’ll make the clean out process easier.  It’s going to be pretty much non-stop butt fucking for you, with some blow jobs and ass eating to break up the monotony. 

“…What was that?...  You don’t eat ass?  You don’t want to stick your tongue where another man shits?  Believe me, I understand.  That’s why I don’t do it.  And when you get your own rig, you won’t have to. 

“Don’t you dare try to stand up when I am fucking you in this position.  Yes it’s an uncomfortable position.  I want it that way.  I said, don’t stand up.  In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t give a shit what you want or don’t want. 

“You keep up this idea that your opinion matters, I will give a shit….  Literally!  I am not into that scene, but I will totally shit in your mouth to get you to understand that your opinion is as useless to me as your pecker. 

“You know what?  Stand up.  Look at me….  Look at me Cunt.  Yeah, face slaps are my thing too. 

“I’m ready to end this now if you want.  I will walk back to my rig, and I will leave you standing naked in this lot.  You want to stay with me, you agree to do what I say when I say it.  No asking not to do anything.  And what I will give you is free driver training, free lodging, I’ll pay for your food, all the expenses along the way, and finally and most importantly all the sex you ever wanted from men like me. 

“I know where the active cruise spots are.  I have driver contacts across the country that like to fuck faggots like you.  I know where the last remaining truck stops that still have communal showers.  You’ll definitely get gang banged there.  There are some other places, like this biker roadhouse where faggots get used.  That’s only the beginning.  Summer is approaching, and the fag fuckers come out to play in a big way.

“This is the only time I will make you this choice.  You want me to leave you here or do you want to be transformed into a cum-guzzling and ass eating cunt, one that can drive a truck?

“…What was that?...  That’s as I thought.  But don’t call me ‘Sir’ as you haven’t earned the right to.  You are to refer me as ‘Master.’  Once you establish yourself with me, without future problems, I’ll let you call me ‘Sir.’  And if you do a real good job, after the end of the eleven weeks, I might let you address me as ‘Dad.’

“Ok get on your knees and suck your ass juices off my cock.  Don’t think.  Just do.  Stick it in your mouth.

“Atta boy.  You are taking your first step on the right path.

“I plan on taking you there tonight, to that biker roadhouse.  They require all faggots to be locked up in a chastity cage.  They have a guy there that will fit you with one exactly to my specifications.  You’ll wear it for your duration with me. 

“I will pay for your entrance.  They charge faggots to be used by them.  Faggots from all over the area arrive, pay, and get stripped.  They are secured in one of several stations for the night.  There’s one that is bent over to lick boots all night.  Another is on urinal duty.  There’s a glory hole station and a rimming station.  There’s a full toilet station.  Piss me off again, and you might be secured in there.  And they have ways of making the faggots comply. 

“Get up and get back into position with your fingertips on the asphalt….  There you go.  Fuuuuuck…  Cunt, your cunt feels so good.  You’re not screaming this time.  Good.

“For you, I was going to have you installed at the glory hole station.  I’m going to switch it up to the ass eating one, get you under one of their rimseats.  There’s this one that your lay down on a small platform in one room, and you scoot your head through a hole in the wall.  Your head comes out into the bar area under what they call ‘The Throne.’  Your legs are lifted up, spread, and secured to the wall, leaving your cunt open for any type of pussy play.  That’s sometimes reserved by faggots weeks if not months ahead. 

“I’ll contact the owner and the man that likes to sit on the Throne for hours on end.  He’ll let me know if it’s available.  Regardless, you will be installed at one station through the night.  I’ll use you early on, but I’ll go back to the rig to spend my down time. 

“The thought of that is really getting me going.  Can you feel my cock getting thicker?  It loves it with thoughts of faggots used in a way that god intended.

“We have about some time before we need to get rolling.  Now that you know what the next three months will look like, I’m going to enjoy my new accommodating cunt for a bit.  Try to hold your position.”

[ist4rgirlo]

Hi I have another Conrad fisher x sister request so reader goes swimming and her leg gets stung by a jellyfish and she gets out of the water and goes back to the house and calls Conrad from upstairs and he comes downstairs and makes her sit on the kitchen counter so he can clean it and he comforts her when it stings ( idk if u write for jere if u don’t forget this part if u do please add that he hears her crying downstairs and hugs her to help her move less to like hold her down and comfort her ) and throughout the day Conrad monitors her temp to make sure she doesn’t get a fever <3 ( this is long and so detailed idk if it’s a good or a bad thing I’m sorry also u don’t have to write it now or like at all if you don’t feel like writing platonic ik 3 requests in a row is a lot so tyt and write it when u feel like it <3 ) 

ONE SHOT !

Summary: Jeremiah and Conrad taking care of their sister.

Warnings: JUST FLUFF, maybe a little bit swearing and crying.

Requested by: Anonymous

───────────────────────────

''Connie!'' she exclaimed. I heard my mother yelling loudly, her voice sounded concerned -- here I was, being stung by a jellyfish and crying like a little baby because of the sting I got.

There were two of us in the kitchen when Conrad came running downstairs, looking for mom. The second he saw us, he immediately ran towards us, his eyebrows furrowed, and his voice filled with worry "What happened?"

"Well your sister was trying to surf earlier, I told her no because there would jellyfishes out there but she wouldn't listen!" Mom scolded me, I looked at Conrad with tears in my eyes -- his mouth frowning.

I saw Conrad going beside my mom, rubbing her shoulder, "She's going to be fine, don't worry. I'll clean it mom" my mom just nodded before she went back upstairs to continue cleaning.

─────────────────────────

"IT BURNS!!!" As I screamed, I got up from my seat and sat down on the floor, lying down there sobbing like crazy, I heard Jeremiah run down the stairs, he immediately running to the kitchen after hearing me scream.

"Connie please PLEASE make it go away" I yelled.

"What happened, Connie? y/n?"

"She got stung by a jellyfish"

"Oh you poor girl" Jeremiah frowned before walking towards me, holding onto me -- trying to keep me calm as much as possible.

Conrad panicked, "Shh shh, you're going to be alright okay okay". He went and grabbed me and sat me down on the kitchen counter while Jeremiah was by my side for emotional support.

"Okay, I have to clean so It might sting okay" Conrad said, going towards the cabinet to get some peroxide then kneeling down so he can see my feet better.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH" I yelled, accidentally hitting Conrad on the head. Jeremiah chuckled, laughing at me and Conrad.

Conrad winced, looking up at me and glaring at me. I just smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry" he just smiled and went back into cleaning my feet.

───────────────────────────

After Conrad had cleaned my feet, they decided to put me into a bathtub and soak my feet in hot water for a while.

He then set me down on the couch so that he could monitor me every so often and also see if I had any bad reactions to the sting as a result of it. After that he made sure that I was asleep.

Throughout the day, Jeremiah sat beside me till I felt better, he was just there comforting me, making sure that I'm okay. Conrad would come and bring me food and he would always check whether or not I was okay.

"You okay, sis?" Conrad sat down beside me -- patting my head. Jeremiah looked at me and smiled.

"I'm alright now, thanks to you guys" I smiled up a him and Jeremiah before leaning my head on Conrad's shoulder -- feeling myself drift to sleep.

───────────────────────────

this one is kinda short so im sorry about that !! im trying to work on something which i am very excited bout :)) if y'all have requests just lmk !!

[purplekissinger]

deardiarydeardiarydeardiary

Y/N's been acting strange lately. She may contain the urge to run away, but Tom holds her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks.

🎵alt-J - Breezeblocks🎵

TW: manipulation, mental disorder themes. This is a full blown angst.

The cover: smooth, soft, fine leather. It feels nice to run your hand over it and you do it from time to time. Sometimes it feels warm. The corners: gold, darkened with age. They taste slightly salty (yes, you chewed them at some point, let's not talk about that). The paper: rough, thick, slightly yellow, clean pages like muddy water (there should be a bottom somewhere, but it’s not visible). Tom: soothing, gentle, funny, sympathetic, loving, the best, scary, all-knowing, affectionate, scary, witty, did I mention ‘scary’?

“Nothing special happened today,” you wrote and paused, thinking about your next sentence. He will know if you lie, he has proven it too many times. It's better to  switch the topic quickly. “There is a small problem with the task on potions, maybe you can help me?..”.

Sometimes you use ellipses when talking to him. Poke, poke, poke. Writing lacks the timid intonation so you draw it with dots.

Tom doesn't buy it.

“And what was not special that happened today?”

You began to sleep worse and eat less.

‘Y/N, are you okay?’ - asks someone to your right. It takes you a second to realize that you are sitting at a table in the Great Hall and it’s unbearably noisy here. It takes two more seconds to turn your unseeing gaze to the girl on the right (is that Mary? Mary what’shername? Mary MacDonald? Do we know each other? Why is she talking to me? How did I end up here?).

“Yes, everything is great,” you smile weakly. “I’ll just grab something to eat and it will be even better.”

The plate in front of you is empty. Mary's face is distorted by some kind of emotion, and it takes you another three seconds to recognize pity and disgust in it.

“Molly Prewett said I've been weird lately.”

Molly Prewett said she's already seen you in that shirt for several days in a row. Molly Prewett said your eye is twitching. Molly Prewett said you scream at night.

“Molly Prewett? That fat red-haired girl?” - you can almost see his mocking smile through the pages, and you immediately feel better, as if the invisible fingers squeezing your throat have slightly loosened their grip. “Y/N, dear, please don’t say that she actually managed to hurt your feelings. You do realize why she says that, right? You are the most beautiful and the smartest girl in Hogwarts, and this ugly bitch is simply dying of envy. Damn, I'm dying of self-envy. I’m the luckiest bastard ever to know you. It's a pleasure talking with you. You yourself are a pleasure. Of course, she is jealous, the whole of Hogwarts is crazy about you, otherwise they are just blind. Do you have a mirror in your room right now? Come on, look in it. There’s a princess living in your mirror, go check yourself!”

In your mirror lives a princess who has lain in a coffin for a hundred years. Hair tangled, eyes dull, sweater inside out.

You walk along the corridor,  moving your feet mechanically. You won't be able to remember what lesson is next on the schedule even if your life depends on it. Your peripheral vision has gone and all sounds seem to be distant as if there were cotton wool in your ears. Step. Step. Step. Step.

“Tom, this is just wonderful! I struggled over this essay for two hours, and you sorted it out in no time. Wait, don’t remove the solution yet, I’ll copy it…”

“Take your time, honey. I want my best girl to study well.”

Last week, for the first time in your life, you got a Troll in Transfiguration, which you used to love. You simply went to the pulpit and stood there with an absent look for two minutes. After class, professor McGonagall touches your elbow gently.

“Miss L/N, if you feel like you need to talk, I’m always ready to listen to you,” she says almost in a whisper. It's the warmest tone she can muster, but you already have someone always ready to listen.

“y/n sunshine my beloved dear y/n y/n y/n y/n i love you so please don’t go y/n y/n y/n if you have a heart you won’t leave me you're such a kind girl y/n you won't leave me here you'll help me you'll talk to me you'll love me you'll help me i believe y/n y/n y/n you're the best in the world if i find out that you told someone you’re dead dead dead dead dead dead you don’t know what i can do what i’m capable of you can’t escape me you’ll rot in azkaban forever if you tell anyone y/n don’t even think of that y/n you’re my sunshine you open the diary and i can breathe again i breathe you i live by you i will die without you don’t leave me help me i’m begging you i love you so i love you so”.

Choking with sobs, you look at the jumping lines. The pages are wet from your tears.

“What do you want me to do, Tom?”

It’s 3 a.m. You haven't slept for two days. How are you still able to write? How are you still able to think?

“The toilet is on the third floor. Write me when you get there.”

[ambassadorarlert]

3:15 AM

genre: fluff, domestic bliss warnings: emetophobia (baby vomit lol) word count: 1k a/n: prompt list. i've been seeing a lot of dadmin stuff and had to chime in. this totally isnt a self indulgent. not at all.

The only reason you had gotten out of bed was because you could hear the desperate wailing of an upset infant down the hall, and Armin was nowhere in sight. Your instincts pulled you to follow and investigate. You peeped through the crack of the nursery door, watching and listening to Armin pace across the floor and shushing desperately. 

Armin was clearly struggling. You decided not to watch anymore, and opened the door. Armin jumped and quickly turned around when he heard the squeaky floorboard under your foot.

“What are you doing! You’re not supposed t-to be out of bed!” Armin gasped at the sight of you standing up. 

You were taken aback by his appearance too. His eyes were red and swollen, as well as his cheeks that were tear stained. The baby girl, so little and so frail in his giant hands and strong arms, was just as crimson in the face as her father was. Her shrill cries echoed off of the walls, you almost covered your ears. 

“Are you crying?” You asked. Armin blinked his eyelids rapidly. He looked between you and the baby, unsure of where to begin in describing the situation.

“I-” He stammered. 

Only three days had passed since your little girl had been born, and Armin was still learning how to handle and care for a new baby. So far, he felt like he had been doing a good job. He changed every diaper, made sure her bottle was not too hot or cold, and always made sure to support her neck. Armin had even made her smile a few times when he used his pinky to tickle her nose. 

Perhaps he thought that to himself too soon, as tonight she was quite unhappy. She toyed with Armin and the bottle. She’d sucked for a moment or two, then spit it back out. Maybe she just wasn’t that hungry, and she didn’t want to mindlessly naw on a pacifier either. Her pants were also clean. Armin sang, hummed, spoke to her sweetly. He asked her what the matter was as if she would outright tell him. No amount of rocking, swaying, or bouncing could satisfy her which made Armin’s anxieties spiral.

What if she was in pain? What if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch? What if there was nothing he could do? Or, worse, what if he was somehow the problem? The tears of defeat began to pour, he couldn’t hold them back if he tried. Intrusive and destructive thoughts fogged his vision. Was he really so useless that he couldn’t even make his own child happy? Armin wasn’t sure if it was just him, or if the baby's cries were getting louder. His elbows were growing sore from holding her for two hours straight. His temples were pounding like drums, and he was quite exhausted. This night would be his fourth all-nighter in a row.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong! She won’t s-stop crying, I’ve done ev-everything!” Armin hiccupped as he explained. His lips quivered and more salty tears raced down his cheeks.

“Let me take her.” You offered. 

You met Armin in the middle, reaching out your arms to take the baby from him. The only relief he felt was stretching out his arms. A dark cloud of fatherhood rained on his shoulders. Once you had the baby comfortable, the crying eased but not by much. Armin went in to explain all the things he had done to try and sooth her as he helped you sit in the rocking chair in the corner. From what you understood, he had done everything right.

“Sometimes babies just cry.” You said simply. Armin’s frown deepened.

“Just… because?” He wondered. 

You nodded. Armin found that hard to believe. He couldn’t imagine his precious little girl crying just because she felt like it. There had to be a reason, and there had to be something he could do. Armin twiddled with his fingers. He watched as you rocked back and forth, baby on your shoulder and patting her backside with your palm.

After a dozen or so pats, she let out a burp that could have come from a grown person. You both made shocked and unexpected faces at each other. You could feel her little frame deflate slightly against your shoulder. Silence suddenly fell, it made Armin’s ears ring. Bricks had been lifted from his chest. He let out a long, exasperated sigh. Before Armin could even ask, and you knew he would, you passed the baby back to him. He looked at you as if you had performed a miracle.

“You’re amazing.” He breathed, taking her back. 

Just as Armin was bringing her to his chest, she spit up right onto his shirt. The soiled shirt did not bother him. How could he be mad anyway, she was just too cute now that she had expelled her discomfort. You clapped a hand to your lips to stop yourself from blatantly laughing out loud. Armin chuckled awkwardly.

“I believe she just puked half her body weight onto me.” Armin half-joked. The redness in his face had faded to a flush pink, and his eyes had cleared.

You stood up, taking the soiled baby from his arms again.

“I’ll handle this. You go change. Then, try and get some sleep.”

“I’ll be back in just a second.” Armin softly promised.

He put a kiss to your forehead gently, and then to the baby twice as much. You snorted as he stripped his shirt off before he could completely leave the room. You looked down at your daughter in your arms. Her eyes were starting to roll back, sleep finally calling to her. She had your hair color, lips and chin. However, her nose, eyes, and eyebrows were Armin’s. A perfectly split image of you both. You gave each of her little fists a kiss, as well as the bottoms of her wrinkly feet. 

“You’re going to drive him mad, aren’t you?”

thank you. reblogs and feedback are appreciated! arlertwitch © 2023. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost any works by arlertwitch on any other platforms. violators will be prosecuted in accordance within the law.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Can i ask for some headcanons about Zack from final fantasy kissing the face of a s/o who is crying and comforting them? I hope it doesn't seem weird, I just thought it would be cute ♡ thank you for reading and I love sm your hcs its perfect!

Zack Fair with Crying S/O

pairing : zack fair x gn!reader

cw: none! zack is a cutie patootie and he deserves pure fluff.

it genuinely would probably take zack a hot moment to notice your crying at all.

i mean he comes home, all sweaty after a gruesome training session, muttering a soft, “hey baby,” and placing the gentlest kiss on the top of your hair, hand resting on the back of your head.

but he’s focused on hitting the shower.

so focused that when you try and wrap your arms around him for comfort, he’s pushing you away from him, “ah, baby y’don’t wanna touch me right now. i’m all sweaty and gross.”

he thinks nothing of it, it's not the first time he's rejected your touch to prevent you from smelling him after training. he's saving you from it, he thinks.

so he continues on to the bathroom, bag of equipment thrown loosely on his shoulder.

that is, until, he hears soft sniffles coming from behind him, making his shoulders droop.

zack has tuned himself to understand your emotions. a simple sniff could mean you were getting sick, or that it was simply dusty in the house and he would need to clean soon.

but multiple, in a row, followed by hiccuped breaths. not good.

suddenly he's regretting not accepting you hug.

he turns in an instant, dropping anything he holds to rush over to your side, sitting the two of you down on the couch, face to face.

“what happened baby?” “hey, hey, look at me, my love.” and while he means to comfort you, his words have your cracking and you breakdown in front of.

zack would take your cheeks into his hands, making you face him. his brows furrow when he sees the tears slipping from your beautiful eyes, running down past your lips.

though at first you refuse to speak, his thumb’s gentle caress of your cheekbone coaxes the reasoning out of you.

even while tired after a long day, he listens to what you say, following every word. gaze never faltering, hands on your face never dropping.

“awh, my baby doesn’t deserve that..”

“poor baby.” his thumb wipes a tear that falls from your lashline line.

he places the softest kiss to your cheek, then another in the same spot.

he notices an instant change, it seems to soften your breathing. and your sniffling subsides. you’ve calmed.

“that helping, love?” yeah it is. he knows.

so he places another. and another. and one more.

his lips covered the stray tears on your cheeks, kissing them away.

zack moves your face, giving him the perfect angle to any spot he wishes to kiss.

he covers your jaw, cheeks, forehead, in soft kisses.

at first it feels sporadic, like he’s calculating where his lips will land.

but in an instant he find a steady rhythm, planting kisses wherever his lips land on your face rather then picking a specific spot.

it has your face heating up, and your heartbeat leveling to a steady beat.

you push him away, with gentle hands, almost whining between giggles, “zackk stoppp.”

but he knows that really means, ‘keep kissing me please.’

when he notices a smile on your face, placing another kiss on your nose, he feels that his methods have worked.

“feeling better? yeah?”

zack looks at you with tired eyes, always on you, always giving his full attention. he would never dare to leave you feeling worse than before.

he places a final kiss on your lips, lingering, purely a selfish act now that he sees you have calmed down.

“come shower with me baby, that always helps me calm down.” and he grabs your hand, pulling you slowly from the couch.

[mlmxreader]

Johnny's Mansion | Kenshi Takahashi x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Heya! Can I have prompt #15 for Kenshi Takahashi? - @brymalibu ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Kenshi get invited to Johnny Cage's birthday party, which is all fine and dandy, but the music choices are certainly... unique.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Johnny Cage’s mansion, or as he called it, his “mojo dojo casa house”. You and Kenshi had been invited, as it was Johnny’s birthday and everybody simply had to be there, although neither of you were rather happy about it; usually, Tuesdays were often saved for your date night - you split it evenly between who chose to do what, and you were excited, as it should have been Kenshi’s turn.

But, neither of you wanted to let Johnny down; he was a good lad, really, even though he tried to hide it under his layers of ego and self-importance, and you both knew that he valued your friendships more than anything… except maybe the DVD collection of EastEnders from start to present that sat, always immaculately clean of dust, by his television.

Maybe he did love you both second best, after all… but he was still your friend, and neither you nor Kenshi wanted to let him down; he wanted you at his birthday party, just as he wanted Kung Lao and Raiden and Syzoth and Baraka. Just as he wanted Mileena, Sindel, Kitana, Sub-Zero, Scorpion.

The music coming from inside the home was so loud it made the ground shake as you and Kenshi entered it, holding onto each other’s hands tightly, not wanting to get separated or lost within the expansive rooms.

Why Johnny chose an open plan for his mansion, you would never know, and you didn’t really want to ask, either. Still, even when you went to grab drinks, Kenshi held onto your shoulder; without Sento, he couldn’t see a thing, and with the waves of partygoers, it was difficult for him to navigate the house the way he could when you visited Johnny on weekends.

‘1916’ by Sabaton played loudly on the speakers, and when you turned to pass Kenshi his drink, you gently tugged at the string of his hoodie to signal for him to bend down so he could hear you.

“It’s our song,” you told him.

He listened for a moment.

“I knew at the time that a year in the line was a long enough life for a soldier… we all volunteered and we wrote down our names and we added two years to our ages, eager for life and ahead of the game, ready for history’s pages, and we brawled and we fought and we whored til we stood ten thousand shoulder to shoulder, a thirst for the Hun, we were food for the gun, and that’s what you are when you’re soldiers…”

He smiled. “This is the one you played in the car when we first started dating.”

You grinned. “You remembered! Can we… can we dance?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“C’mon, take my hand and dance for once, have some fun,” you told him, taking your drink and his and setting them on the table. “Please? For me?”

Shaking his head, Kenshi buckled, and gave you his hand; he allowed you to lead the way, finding a clear spot near the speakers.

You took his hands in yours, one just next to your elbow, you dropped one of his hands and let him rest it on your shoulder while you grabbed his waist, gently moving him from side to side until he moved closer and rested his chin on your shoulder with a hum.

Listening closely to the lyrics. 

“I heard my friend cry, and he sank to his knees, coughing blood as he screamed for his mother, and I fell by his side, and that’s how we died - clinging like kids to each other, and I lay in the mud and the guts and the blood, and I wept as his body grew colder, and I called for my mother and she never came, though it wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t to blame, and the day’s not half over and ten thousand slain, and now there’s nobody remembers our names and that’s how it is for a soldier.”

He smiled, thinking of when he took you to see that exact band as an anniversary present; you had been so happy, forcing him to stand in the front row. He had never heard you sing so loudly, and he couldn’t say he was shocked when your voice didn’t work the next day.

He could still remember how tender his arm was in the morning thanks to you getting over excited and hitting his arm within a second of every song; naming it and telling him exactly what it was about. He would have given anything to take you back there again, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

You had been so happy, and Kenshi had a sneaky feeling that the music was Johnny’s doing when ‘The Unkillable Soldier’ started to play, making you gasp as you gently shook him.

“This one’s about Adrian Carton De Wiart’s career during the first world war!” You yelped, excited and rushing through your words. “C’mon, you know this one!”

Kenshi laughed softly, of course he did. You played it often enough when you were tidying the house. “At the edge of madness, in a time of sadness, an immortal soldier finds his home! Proven under fire, over trench and wire, forged for the war he’s unbreakable!”

You laughed, and Kenshi could have died right then and there and been happy about it; his favourite sound in the fucking world.

“See?” You nearly stuttered, you were so happy. “You do know it!”

“I only know it because of you,” he pointed out with a grin. “I only know any of their songs because of you… but I think Johnny did this.”

“What?”

Kenshi pulled you close to his side, resting his head on your shoulder. “I think you’ll find Johnny’s playing all of your songs because he knows we’re here.”

“Is that a problem?” You asked, frowning.

He shook his head, letting out a soft hum. “No, it’s not… I get to see you happy, I’m happy.”

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 24 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x fem!reader, roman reigns x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, slapping, marijuana usage, possessive!cody, unwanted advances

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

when cody walked back into his room and shut the door behind him, he didn’t expect ted to already be sitting at his desk facing the door with his hands in his lap. cody stared at him for a moment and silently cursed the world because he had actually wanted to be alone and listen to painfully sad music. “when did you get back?” cody asked instead of jumping head first into his mattress and screaming into his pillow out of frustration.

“at the perfect time. i saw you and y/n go back to her room all giggly and happy.” ted hummed, a knowing smirk on his face as cody sat down in his chair. “and when i walked by, i expected the door to be open, only to find it to be closed, and i know y/n usually has her door open, even if one of us were in there with her alone.” he continued, watching the way a blush had rose to cody’s cheeks.

cody didn’t have a bone in him that wanted to deny what ted saw. he already had enough on his plate already, especially knowing that y/n was currently in her room talking to roman about god knows what. “i like her.” cody admitted, pulling out his ipad and instantly opening up the spotify app so he could throw together a sad playlist for himself to listen to until y/n eventually gave him an answer. “i told her that i wanted to date her.”

“and…” ted dragged on the word, clearly expecting there to be a good outcome to the situation. he had front row tickets to watching his two best friends start falling for each other and had been waiting for one of them to finally admit to him that they had a thing for each other.

“and nothing.” cody sighed, already reaching for his backpack so he could pull out his airpods. “she’s in there talking to roman right now. if i’m honest, i don’t have much hope.” he admitted, visibly slumping in his seat as he put an airpod in one of his ears and began to put together a new playlist.

ted stared at cody in disbelief, watching the way his cocky, overly-confident, “i don’t have to try to get pussy because the pussy just falls right into my lap” roommate had retracted into a shell of uncertainty and insecurity. it was unsettling to say the least.

what was more unsettling was how far cody was in his insecurities that he truly believed that y/n wouldn’t choose him in the end. ted reached over and smacked cody upside the head, causing cody to look at ted with anger in his gaze.

before cody could retaliate and chew out ted, ted pointed his finger at cody and said, “you’re a fucking idiot if you think she’s going to choose roman over you.”

cody calmed himself down, turning his head to look back towards his screen as he sighed in defeat. “what makes you even say that?” he questioned, tapping away at his screen as he filled the playlist with endless songs to get cody in his feels. “man, i fucking start the day with her. every single day ever since we met. i tie her hair up so it’s not in the way while she does her skincare. and then i end the day with her. we’ve been fucking for the past week or so. i’ll tuck her in bed after cleaning her up, kiss her goodnight and leave even though i want nothing more than to just sleep with her by my side. but guess what, ted. roman’s still on her fucking mind.”

ted stared at cody with wide eyes. he certainly knew cody was leaving in the middle of the night to go fuck some girl, he had woken up to use the restroom in the middle of the night only to find cody’s bed empty. he just never would have guessed that the person cody was sleeping with was y/n.

“you took her virginity?” ted asked, remembering when y/n had admitted that she was a virgin. he watched the way cody nodded his head and open one of his drawers.

cody pulled out a pack of pre-rolled joints and his lighter. he took one of the joints out and placed it between his pursed lips, holding the box out to ted to offer him one. ted shook his head at the offer, watching as cody set the pack down on his desk and reach for his ashtray.

“were you her first kiss too?” ted asked as cody held the joint between two fingers and lit the end while rolling it. the question seemed to have put cody in a sour mood, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“roman was.” he muttered bitterly, bringing the joint to his lips after it was lit and drawing the smoke into his mouth. cody pulled the joint away from his lips as he held the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds before inhaling it into his lungs, exhaling as he slumped back into his chair.

ted nodded his head, turning away from cody as the man continued to puff, puff, puff, as if his life depended on it. ted didn’t even know that y/n had a bone in her body that was capable of “whoring” around, although it seemed he was proven wrong considering cody’s words.

“just trust that she’ll choose you in the end. it’s weird seeing you so insecure about yourself, man.” ted mumbled, not knowing how else he could reassure his roommate.

cody held the joint over the ashtray as he exhaled the smoke in his lungs. he tapped the joint against the edge, watching the way the ash fell on to the tray. he thought over ted’s words for a second before changing the topic, “roman texted me some weird shit. y/n texted him that she wanted to talk to him because… she told me she wanted to figure things out since she didn’t know what she want and i guess her first step is to talk to roman. but roman sent me some weird ass fucking text to me.”

ted looked over at cody as cody pulled up his messages app on his ipad. he tilted the ipad towards ted so that he could read over the message.

“last night was basement night at theta xi. i blacked out so i don’t remember a single thing, but something happened between roman and i clearly. there’s no reason for him to be so hostile. i don’t even know what i could have told her that’d piss him off.” cody groaned, already raising the joint back up to his lips once more.

ted sighed, shaking his head and turning the ipad back towards cody. “i don’t know, codes. clearly something bad if he’s threatening to kill you for talking to her. maybe ask randy if you said anything? i don’t think you should ask jimmy or jey, they’re loyal to roman.” he suggested.

cody nodded his head, remembering that y/n had told him that randy was the one to bring him back to the dorms. “yeah, good idea. i’ll text randy, he was the one that brought me back here. maybe i said some shit.” he hummed, already pulling up his text chat with randy so that he could send him a message.

across the hall in the other room was a very tense, panicked roman and a confused, fiery y/n. y/n had taken a seat in her chair, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest while roman stood in front of her.

“you haven’t said a word in the past 3 minutes. having trouble thinking up another lie?” y/n scoffed, finally cutting the radio silence that had filled the room.

roman didn’t know where to go now. he was already in a frantic state of mind, having just visited his baby momma that lived two floors down to try and convince her, yet again, to get an abortion. and now here he was in y/n’s room thinking of all the ways he could manage to salvage their… whatever they were… in order to secure his 500 dollars from jey.

he had jumped to conclusions when y/n texted, only thinking that the only reason why she’d want to talk is because cody had remembered what happened the night prior and snitched. he hadn’t even thought of any other reason that she’d want to talk to him.

“what did you want to talk about?” roman asked instead, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

“everything i heard from a little birdie, who isn’t cody, by the way. so keep his name out of your mouth.” y/n growled. and although she presented herself as demanding, on the inside she was internally freaking out.

there was no way roman was going to directly answer her questions about what he just said, and so, she took a page out of austin’s book and decided to put her drama club skills to use. improv was always her strong suit, according to austin.

she watched roman seem to tense up at the mention of cody, and confusion washed over his features when y/n said it wasn’t cody who had told her what she knew. of course, she didn’t know jack shit but roman believed otherwise.

“i’m an open book, roman. you know me, i’m not one to judge. it’d be better if you were just honest with me so i can hear straight from the person who’s in the center of all the drama instead of hearing multiple different variations.” she continued, watching the way roman seemed to be visibly fighting a war in his mind.

“how much do you know?” roman eventually asked.

hook, line, and sinker. y/n could practically hear austin’s voice humming in the back of her head.

“everything else besides whatever this is about another girl somehow being involved in the entire stint.” y/n replied, fully aware that the only piece of information she really had was the fact that roman had walked in here claiming cody’s a liar that there’s a girl that’s supposedly jealous of her and roman.

roman sighed, bringing his hands and rubbing his palms over his face. he had no idea how he’d get out of this one. it didn’t help that the stupidly expensive bouquet he had gotten her was still proudly being displayed on her desk. roman could feel a twinge of guilt tug at his heart.

he lowered his hands and responded, “an ex of mine.” he figured that was a neutral enough answer that wouldn’t land him in a deeper hole. he watched as y/n nodded her head and seemed to think of another question to ask him.

“alright if she’s just an ex of yours, then why does what she thinks about us matter?” she questioned. when roman could only stare at y/n with wide eyes, she knew that he didn’t have an answer that’d satisfy the both of them.

she sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch her nose. “you know what? i’m just not going to push it. i wanted to talk to you about ending things between us because i realized that i’m just really shit when it comes to dating and i need to take a step back from people.”

roman could hear the money leave his wallet, and god did he need those 500 dollars of his to stay in his wallet and for jey to cough up 500 out of his own wallet. “wait, what? was it something i did? is it because of her?” roman asked, trying to find some sort of doorway that was still open that he could slip himself into.

y/n let her hand fall from her face, letting it fall back against her lap. “no, i literally just told you the reason why. are you even listening or are you too stuck in your own head?” she asked. she knew she had roman right where she wanted him, watching the way he drew in a breath nervously and he began to fidget with the watch he wore on his wrist.

roman stared at her, trying to read her body language and the way her eyes seemed to hide something from her. however, he knew that he didn’t know y/n like that. whenever the girl would talk about herself, the man would simply pocket the information and focus on how sinful her tits would look in a specific shirt.

and it hit him.

she wasn’t even confronting him about the bet, which was arguably the most problematic part of the whole narrative considering that it directly involved her. she was bluffing about knowing everything. roman didn’t even know if she even knew about the fact that the “ex” he mentioned was pregnant with his child.

but that also meant she was deadset on ending things with roman.

“y/n, please. don’t we have a good thing going on?” roman asked, taking a step forward and reaching for y/n’s hand. when he grabbed her hand, y/n pulled her hand away from his so ferociously as if he had just burned her.

“roman, i know it’s such a shit saying but i really mean it. it’s not you, it’s me. i need to figure shit out, okay? i’m sorry if i lead you on or whatever, but i’m hurting someone that means a whole lot to me and it was sort of my wake up call that i can’t keep on going on dates with you while sleeping with somebody else entirely.” y/n sighed, unable to even look roman in the eye as she tilted her head downwards.

roman stared at her with wide eyes. she was actively sleeping with someone else while roman was out here trying to get her to sleep with him by going on dates. he, jey, and jimmy had clearly gotten the wrong narrative about y/n. they thought she was a goody two shoes through and through: the type of girl that would only sleep with a guy if they were dating. she had even turned down roman when he made advances towards her and told him that she’d have to be his girlfriend before they went any further.

“it could have been that easy all along?” roman asked, and the change in his tone had made y/n look back up at roman. she was confused by roman’s words, not knowing what roman was even referring to, but what had caught her attention was the way roman’s voice had deepened to a sultry tone. and suddenly, roman was crouching down so he was eye level with y/n, his hands on her knees. “look, no matter how good this guy is at fucking you to the point where you were so deadset on having me wait until we start officially dating, i can assure you that i’m better. just give me one night, doll.”

y/n stared at roman with wide eyes, and she roughly pushed his hands off of her knees when they began to travel upwards. “i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but i can assure you that i did not ask to talk to you just so you can ‘prove’ to me that you’re a sex god.” she huffed, scooting her chair back and standing up. “roman, if you want me to even think of you as a friend after all this, i think you should leave right now.” y/n suggested, watching the man stand up.

roman rested his hands against her hips, pulling her close to him and tightening his grip on her when he felt her press her hands against his chest to try and push him away. “come on, don’t be like that, doll. just one night.” he hummed.

y/n forcefully shoved roman away, stepping around him and opening the door. she turned to look at him, feeling the parts of her body that roman had laid his hands on begin to burn in the worst way possible. “get out. i’m not fucking you, roman. that’s not going to change my mind on ending whatever this is between us.” she huffed.

y/n hadn’t realized that across the hall, ted had opened the door to further air out the room because even with the window open, cody was absolutely hotboxing the fuck out of their enclosed space. he just so happened to have opened the door right when y/n had already turned back around.

“close the door, doll. it doesn’t have to be like this, come on. just one night and i can make you forget all about that guy and we can go back to having our little dates and what not.” roman continued to press, clearly not caring that ted was watching from his doorway. he walked towards her, placing his hand on her waist and already moving to shut the door closed before she smacked his hand away from her.

“stop fucking touching me, roman! how many times do i have to say it to get it through your fucking skull? you and me should go back to being just friends before i hurt anyone else. and if you still want to even be considered my friend, i suggest you walk your ass right out of this room.” y/n seethed.

roman grunted, “you’re being fucking difficult. so you’ll put out for some other dude but not me? come on, doll. stop being such a fucking prude.” roman placed his hand on the door and began to shut it, as he backed y/n into the wall, but before he could shut the door and y/n could push him away, the sound of a hand colliding with the door to keep it open rang throughout the hall.

“don’t call her that, roman.” ted called from where he stood behind cody, who was currently pressing his entire body weight against the door to push it all the way open.

roman took a step back from y/n, watching as cody stood in front of her protectively, swaying side to side in his doped haze. cody had a hand out behind him, keeping y/n tucked behind his frame as he glared at roman through his bloodshot eyes.

ted stepped in to the room, observing the obvious tension that had risen between cody and roman. ted knew cody would have probably said every insult that existed to roman and chewed him up if he were sober, but cody had gone nonverbal not too long after he had started smoking - a sign that the man was long gone in the clouds. even though the man was high out of his mind and couldn’t even hold himself up on his own two feet, something about hearing roman and y/n had made cody shoot out of his seat and storm over to the room before ted could even react - and ted was the sober one.

“ted. codes. it’s cool, i’m just trying to work something out with my girl. i’m not giving up on her. on us.” roman tried to reason. ted pulled a face when roman referred to y/n as his girl, while cody had visibly grown angrier.

“roman, if y/n is your girl then why don’t you just fucking listen to her and leave. we don’t want any trouble, man, and i’m sure you don’t want any either.” ted replied with a sigh, reaching out to place a hand on roman’s shoulder. roman shrugged off ted’s hand.

“look, i don’t care how close you two are to her. but what happens between me and y/n is none of your business. now, let me work things out with my girl.” he tried to get the other two to leave the room.

cody grabbed y/n’s wrist from behind him, pulling her in front of him and turning her around so her back was facing roman. he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep her pressed against his front as his other hand lifted the back of her shirt to proudly display the mark he had left on her lower back. y/n yelped at the sudden action, not knowing what cody was trying to do until she felt him lift her shirt and her eyes widened in realization. ted and roman both stared at cody’s name that had been engraved in her skin. the cut that read “cody’s <3” still red and irritated - a sign that it was a new addition to y/n’s body.

and when roman met cody’s gaze, he knew that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. cody narrowed his gaze at roman, and growled out a single word that could have been taken as a threat with how much malice it held.

“mine.”

|| next part ||