#look ma an attempt at writing

[thetomorrowshow]

hubris killed the god - ch 2

first chapter

sorry this one took so long folks! while i’m on my tumblr break i’m only uploading once a month, and this fic got pushed back farther than i would’ve liked.

cw: talk of death, illness/plague, implied animal death, religious setting

~

Scott tries to sleep. He really does.

But every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is a darkness more sinister than what he knows lies in Sanctuary.

Every couple of minutes, he can’t stand it—he opens his eyes, sits up, and scans the dark room.

Every time, there’s nothing there. He’s safe.

But it’s terrifying, lying alone, alone the way he was for the past weeks in his house as the plague closed in around him.

Eventually, Scott can’t handle it any longer. He slips out of bed and into his boots, wrapping the soft spare blanket (a fluffy tan thing that he’d found under the bed) around his shoulders like a cloak.

Scott eases his bedroom door open, slowly and carefully to avoid any squeaking that might wake someone. He’d heard several people pass by earlier as he prepared for bed, so he knows he isn’t alone on the floor.

He sneaks out and down the stairs, wincing at every creak his boots make against the wooden steps. There’s nobody in the public section of the inn, all candles blown out and leaving the room eerily silent in its emptiness.

He chooses not to stay. The dim light of the stars, the wind in the trees, the sounds of animals—all a much preferable peace to this. And there’s a cool breeze, a fresh scent on the air, and the distant shadowy figure of someone standing by a campfire at the edge of town past the church.

Scott doesn’t approach them—he’s sure it’s one of his friends, out keeping watch, but he’s afraid that going over there will bring him into sight of the mites, and thereby set him up for a sleepless night.

Instead, he turns to the church.

The foyer is silent, the blankets and pillows in the corner abandoned. There’s still a lamp burning, though, which gives Scott hope that someone might be here, if not awake.

He pushes open the door to the chapel and steps inside.

Sure enough, beyond the rows of simple pews, setting up a candle at the altar at the front is Sausage.

Sausage turns at the noise, his face breaking into a smile as he sees Scott. He abandons what he’s doing, strides down the aisle.

“Scott! You’re here, I’m so happy you’re here!”

Sausage wraps Scott in a big, warm hug, and Scott just melts into it, gripping Sausage as tightly as he can. Sausage smells just as he always does, a bit smokey mixed with some sort of incense, and it’s more comforting than anything else he’s been through today.

“I’m really glad you’re safe,” Sausage says, drawing back to examine him. He frowns. “Te ves consado, Scott. Haven’t you slept?”

“Not really,” Scott admits, drawing his blanket closer around himself. He doesn’t want to talk about his lack of sleep, though, instead gesturing toward the stand. “Are you . . . lighting a candle?”

Sausage perks up. “Oh, yes! I do most of my worship at night lately—Santa Perla is strongest then, you see!” He takes Scott gently by the elbow, leading him up to the front of the chapel. There on the altar is, indeed, a plain unlit candle, flint n’ steel beside it.

“I didn’t know candles were involved in your religion,” Scott says curiously. He’s sat in on a few worship sessions and a sermon or two, more out of support for his friend than any real interest, and in all his recollections he can’t picture a candle anywhere in the service.

“They aren’t,” Sausage says. He kneels there, in the same spot as earlier, and strikes up the flint n’ steel. Carefully, he lights the wick of the candle, coaxing a flame to life. Scott waits in silence, watches as Sausage raises his eyes to the image of Saint Pearl, mouth moving soundlessly in prayer.

“I saw it in a vision,” he says eventually, when his prayer is finished. “A friend, I think. Someone who helped the dead pass on by lighting them a candle. And I figured, well, it can’t hurt to give them a helping hand! That’s what we’re all about here in Sanctuary.”

Sausage reaches under the altar into the compartment there, where he retrieves a second candle. “The first one is for Joel,” he says. “This one is for my people who have passed on.”

Again, Scott waits patiently as Sausage lights it and prays over it, quiet until Sausage begins to stand.

“Do you believe in it?”

Sausage shrugs. “I believe in Santa Perla,” he offers, eyes flicking up. “And I believe if she wishes this to be one of her many ways of helping, then she will accept my offerings. And if it doesn’t actually help them?” he shrugs again. “At least it’s something to remember them by.”

Scott thinks about that for a moment. It’s . . . it’s really a beautiful sentiment. Whether he believes that the flame is genuinely helping to light their path to the afterlife, or whether it just represents their life here on earth, it’s something that he likes. Neither explanation is less spiritual, less meaningful.

“Do you have a third?” he asks quietly, and when Sausage nods, he kneels in Sausage’s place and lights a candle for his llamas. He stares into the flickering flame as Sausage murmurs a prayer over the candle, imploring his saint to ensure the safety of those passed, if she is able.

“Do you mind if I just. . . .” Scott gestures to the pews when the ritual is done, pulling his blanket a little tighter around himself.

Sausage nods. “Oh, go right ahead! There’s a little room off to the side where there’s a bed, if you want, but it’s fine if you stay in here! There’s always blankets and pillows somewhere!” Scott turns to go, but Sausage catches his shoulder. “If you hear little footsteps in the morning, don’t worry about it,” he says, eyes twinkling a little. “That’s just Hermes running in to relight his daddy’s candle. Don’t let it wake you!”

Scott realizes, for a millisecond, the absolute magnitude of being a child in this apocalypse.

And then he moves on.

Scott does wander for a moment, finding the room spoken of, but he decides fairly quickly that he would rather stay in the chapel with Sausage, where the lamps are low but lit and there’s a person awake to make sure all is well.

He grabs the pillow and another blanket from the foyer, drapes them across one of the pews sort of midway between the doors and the stand. He spares a quick prayer of thanks to Saint Pearl (which consists of “Hi Pearl, thanks for Sausage making these pews cushioned, amen.”), then lays down with the blanket from his room draped over him.

With the mutterings of Sausage’s worship and the slight spicy smell of incense and the warm, soft glow, Scott falls asleep easily.

-

It’s only two days later that they’re gearing up to rescue Katherine.

In those two days, Scott’s learned a lot—fWhip walks him around the invisible perimeter, warning him that if he ever crosses it, he’s no longer protected by Sanctuary’s magic. Which is stressful to hear, especially considering the marking is less of a fence and more of a slat of wood sticking up in the dirt every couple of feet, but fWhip assures him that he won’t be on watch by himself for a while.

Scott has his first watch with Gem, and together they keep an eye out until midnight, when Jimmy relieves them and Scott returns to the church to sleep in the cozy warmth of Sausage’s presence.

He at first wonders why they patrol at all, but Jimmy explains that the noise of their footsteps keeps the mites from attempting to get through the perimeter. There are also various times set apart during the day to patrol, make sure that everything is in order.

Sausage sleeps during the day, so Scott’s careful to be quiet when he finds himself in the church foyer. His companions don’t seem to take the same care, though, particularly fWhip and Gem, and Scott finds himself staring at them frequently, recalling the ominous note he’d found in his room.

The group meets at mealtimes, where they share food either in the foyer of the church, or at the outpost (just a campfire with some logs around it not far from the church), seemingly interchangeably. It’s then that Jimmy will ask someone to get in a patrol before the next meal, or ask about certain capabilities that might help in a rescue. It’s during breakfast in the foyer that Jimmy announces his plans for rescuing Katherine.

“I’m thinking a team of me, False, and Gem,” Jimmy says that morning, just two days after Scott’s arrival. Jimmy nods toward Scott when he looks up.

“Scott, if you want to see how these sorts of things go, you could tag along. fWhip knows how to run the place, I just figured he shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Which is something that really irks Scott, because why would fWhip be running Sanctuary in the first place? Sure, Sausage sleeps for a good part of the day, but it’s still his land.

Scott opens his mouth to say something about how he wants to go, then reconsiders. It’ll just be him and fWhip and Sausage out of the main group here. Maybe he can do some investigating, sneak into people’s rooms. After all, the note from behind his mirror is still nagging at him.

And maybe it’s selfish, or cowardly, but he really doesn’t want to go out into the world so soon after being saved from it. Seeing the masses of mites that wait just outside Sanctuary’s safety seems like something that he isn’t prepared for. He can only imagine how embarrassing it would be to have a panic attack in front of the rest of the party, when he’s meant to be proving he's worth keeping around.

“I’ll stay back,” he says. “I can do some patrolling, keep learning my way around.”

Jimmy nods, then continues laying out the plan.

The next day, very early in the morning, the three set off on False’s airship for Glimmer Grove. Scott waves to them, even though no one looks back.

And then he gets to work.

It isn’t hard at all to shake fWhip off, seeing as fWhip heads out almost instantly for a patrol. So Scott, claiming he’s tired and going to take a nap (he is tired, the pews are less comfortable the longer one lies on them and it’s taking him longer and longer to fall asleep), heads into the inn, ready to break into his companions’ rooms.

Which isn’t hard. None of them were given keys, apparently, and only lock the doors from the inside. Not that any of them have any valuables, but Scott has taken to carrying his coat and fedora with him everywhere, just in case of a robber.

He checks Gem’s room first, sliding in and easing the door shut behind him near-silently. Gem’s room is decorated in mostly orange hues, a soft orange rug beside the bed, an auburn duvet spread across the bed. It’s nice, home-y almost, but he doesn’t have time to focus on it.

He makes quick work of going through the wardrobe—there isn’t much but a few changes of clothes—and a random boot thrown in at the bottom.

The boot doesn’t match any that he’s ever seen her wear, strangely enough. Scott tugs it out, turns it every which way. It looks like something Katherine made, and sure enough, the sole of it has two imprinted ‘G’s curling around each other in her familiar logo.

None of that is too strange. What’s strange is that it’s not made out of the typical supple leather. This boot is stiff and rubbery, made for walking through mud and puddles without getting the foot wet.

He searches through the rest of the room, ducking down to check under the bed. There’s no match.

Why on earth would Gem have a specially-made boot for traveling through mud and marshes, when she lives in a perfectly dry part of the world and would have no practical use for it? And only one?

And Scott doesn’t know the sizes of his friends’ feet, but this looks a little small. Is it too small for Gem? If it was crafted by Katherine, wouldn’t it be made to fit?

He realizes with a start that he’s been pondering the boot for at least ten minutes. He tosses it back into the bottom of the wardrobe, draws the doors closed, and leaves. There’s nothing else to look at. Time to move on.

Jimmy’s room is the next down, and it’s a decent bit larger than either his or Gem’s. The past few days have made it fairly clear that Jimmy’s the leader of their ragtag group, but Scott would bet that the room size is less Jimmy throwing his weight around and more like first come, first served. Still, he can’t help but feel a bit miffed when he notices that Jimmy’s bed is nearly double the size of his own.

There’s no rug in Jimmy’s room, but his bed has plain white sheets and a grey comforter. Jimmy has a wardrobe and a set of drawers, which Scott finds aren’t empty—there’s several papers in the top drawer, mostly maps and half-baked rescue plans. There’s one big, thin book (an art book, by the looks of it) atop the dresser drawers, a couple of sheets of paper and a pencil atop that. The rest of the drawers are empty.

A couple of shirts and an extra pair of jeans are hanging in the wardrobe. Scott feels around the top shelf (he’s too short to properly see it; Jimmy’s wardrobe is taller than his) and finds two items.

The first is a well-polished badge, ‘Deputy Norman’ inscribed in the middle. Scott puts that back, grabs the second.

This is a huge circlet of dull gold, a laurel crown that Scott recognizes immediately.

Joel.

He hadn’t thought that there must have been a period of time during which Joel had been a part of the surviving rulers group. A time when he joked with them, went on rescue missions, stood guard.

Scott remembers the way Jimmy had looked away, face drawn, when he said that hubris had killed Joel.

He wonders how risky it must’ve been for Jimmy to take his crown after whatever had happened to take him down. He can imagine the god’s giant body, swarmed with mites. And Jimmy had gone for it anyway, just to keep a piece of Joel with them.

Or maybe it hadn’t been like that. Maybe Joel had died slowly, in Sanctuary, succumbing to the plague little by little. Maybe Jimmy keeps hold of the crown as a reminder of what they’ve lost, and how careful they need to be.

Whatever the reason, Scott slides it back into place on the shelf, closing the wardrobe doors on it. He doesn’t need to dwell on death. He doesn’t have time.

fWhip’s room is next, and Scott is considerably more cautious with this one. fWhip usually spends the day in the church, using it as a hub of sorts so that if anyone needs help, there’s someone right there, but there’s every possibility that he might need something from his room.

fWhip has just the one change of clothes (and Scott remembers him mentioning it, talking about how he’s a generally strange size and has been having to take in spare Sanctuary clothing in his spare time) in his wardrobe, but the only really notable thing in his blue-themed room is the rocks.

There are rocks piled up in the wardrobe, so precariously that Scott thinks if he even touches one all the rest will fall down. Most of them are run-of-the-mill pebbles and chunks of brick, a couple bearing the distinctive craggly features of dripstone.

Under the bed is a bit of a different story, because fWhip appears to have stripped his bed of the covers and pillows and built a bed underneath the frame, pillows neat and blankets folded. A couple of geodes and cooler-shaped rocks surround the space (which Scott would normally think of as a nest, but it’s far too organized for that).

He hasn’t really found the move from Chromia to Sanctuary to be too difficult to handle—maybe that’s because he’s a traveler by nature, or maybe that’s just because he’s been putting off processing the traumatizing events of what’s gone on. And sure, he’s been hunkering down every night in the chapel, lulled to sleep by Sausage’s murmured prayers, but overall he doesn’t feel too homesick.

fWhip must be a different story. The guy hides it well, but he must miss the caves of Gobland more than he gives away.

Scott doesn’t disturb the bedding, not wanting to give away that he’d been snooping, but he catches sight of something . . . out of place. A rag, by itself, beside the rocks of the bed. A rag that looks like it’s crusted-over with a reddish-brown.

With blood.

Scott doesn’t touch it, of course. He’s not an idiot.

“Okay. Okay. Blood. That’s fine,” he mutters to himself, more to keep his stomach steady than anything else. He really doesn’t want to investigate further, so he crawls out from underneath the bed and heads to the next room.

Two doors down is the next one that’s occupied, and Scott stands in the doorway for a long moment.

This is Shelby’s room. The oversized witch’s hat on the bed makes that clear.

Scott’s careful in his perusal of her room, some irrational part of him telling him that Shelby’s spirit is haunting the room, ready to attack if he breaks anything. Not that there’s much to break, really.

Instead of a wardrobe, Shelby has a set of drawers, and Scott opens each one. The top drawer has a couple of potion bottles, two full of shimmering liquid and one empty. Beside those is a bundle of dried netherwart, some loose golden powder making a fine silt at the bottom of the drawer.

The middle drawer is clothes. Scott hadn’t been terribly close with any of the rulers, but Shelby had been one of those he considered a friend. Opening the drawer of clothes also unleashes a familiar scent, the smokey smell common of brewing businesses intermingling with a sweet melon that is so very representative of Shelby that Scott almost instantly shuts the drawer again. He can’t handle whatever emotions are tied to that.

The bottom drawer is empty. The bed is made, purple duvet a little wrinkled where the hat lies on it. Beside the bed is a congealed, drying-out bucket of slime.

Scott exits quickly, moving on to the last room in the hallway, which must belong to False.

That door is locked.

Scott twists the doorknob this way and that, jiggling it to make sure it isn’t just stuck. No, it’s well and truly locked, which Scott can’t help but find inordinately strange—nobody else even has a key. Why does False have one, when no one else does?

He bends down, peers through the keyhole—he can’t see anything. He adjusts positions, switches eyes. Even his magical eye sees nothing.

There’s something placed over the keyhole to make it impossible to peek in.

Scott leans back, chews on his lip. There has to be a way into that room, right?

The window.

Scott jogs down the hallway then the stairs, taking them two at a time. He makes a note of which side of the building False’s window will probably be on—the back—and hikes around to it, kicking through grass to gaze up.

There’s his window, he thinks—he remembers leaving the curtains open. Gem’s beside it. He tracks down the line, finds—

Nothing. What should be False’s window has the curtains closed. There’s no way to see in without the woman letting him in herself.

Which shouldn’t be suspicious. It really shouldn’t be suspicious. If anything, Scott’s the suspicious one for snooping around in everyone’s rooms while they’re away.

It’s just . . . the note, that he found behind his mirror. During every moment of free time, his thoughts return to it. Who left it? Is it recent? Is it about one of his companions?

Whoever the notes was about, it said they would kill again. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth to imagine—someone (possibly someone that he knows) has killed a person, and is looking to do it again.

He can’t imagine any of his friends as a murderer.

But it’s the apocalypse. Who knows what they’re capable of?

fWhip. Constantly trying to please, smoothly redirecting conversations when they go places he doesn’t want them to go. Jimmy, the leader and a dead-eye shot, stubborn and quick to anger but quicker to forgiveness. False, stoic and private, her room blocked off and thoughts kept to herself. Gem, careful not to offend, but judgemental and self-important. And Sausage, up all night praying, apparently sleeping during the day—but for some reason, none of the others ever want to see him or talk about him.

Actually, Scott can imagine all of his friends as murderers.

And isn’t that a comforting thought?

-

“We’ve got another sick one,” fWhip tells him as they walk down the main road of Sanctuary. Scott glances down at him, then back to the street ahead. There are a couple of people milling about, talking with neighbors in hushed tones. Their eyes follow Scott and fWhip as they pass, boring holes into the back of Scott’s head.

“A youngling girl,” fWhip continues. “Refugee with her older sister from Dawn. I wish we could do something.”

Despite himself and his suspicions, Scott’s curiosity is piqued. He’d just thought his llamas had a normal illness when he first noticed it. Are there unique signs? The plague probably presents differently in humans than it does in llamas, right? “How can you tell she’s got it? It’s not just some normal illness?”

fWhip chews on his bottom lip. “I’ve seen . . . five people get infected since being here, I think. Jimmy said he’s seen twelve. If one of those things touches them, they leave a little red mark. A fever spreads from the mark. Usually the first sign, though, is hallucinations.”

“I thought hallucinations were a symptom of a fever already. How can you tell the difference?”

“Well, they don’t get the fever right away,” fWhip explains, stopping as the main street dwindles away. “It starts with hallucinations. The fever comes a day or two later. And then they just . . . go downhill. Slowly, sometimes. It depends on how willing they are to give up, I guess.”

“How long has she been ill?” Scott asks.

“Her sister noticed the red spot on her leg this morning, but apparently she’s been acting weird for a couple of days. It’s. . . .” fWhip draws in a shuddering breath. He doesn’t continue his thought, but after a moment, he says, “Kids are the hardest. They think they’ll be fine if they accidentally play outside the border. They don’t even notice it, sometimes. And every time, one of them dies.”

Scott doesn’t even know what to say.

He woke up in the chapel this morning to see a little boy with curly brown hair kneeling at the altar, shifting his weight back and forth, whispering a prayer that echoed through the hall.

“Santa Perla, por favor bendice a mi papá. Gracias por mi padre, quien es en el paraíso. Por favor ayúdame con mi español lecciones. ¡Te amo, padre!”

Hermes had finished his prayer and bounded out of the church, face shining and calling for his papa.

He can’t imagine that little boy lying in bed, hallucinating and feverish and on death’s door. He can’t imagine how destroyed Sausage would be were that to happen.

“And there’s nothing we can do?” he asks, fighting to keep the hopelessness out of his voice.

fWhip sighs. He doesn’t say anything.

It tells Scott all he needs to know.

-

The missing members of their little party return that afternoon, accompanied by a familiar face.

Katherine hops down before False has even quite landed the airship in the field beside the church, striding toward Scott, dropping her huge battleaxe beside her. She pulls Scott into a hard hug as soon as she reaches him.

Scott hugs her back, doing his best to ignore her sweat sticking to him. She’s battlestained and gross and looks exhausted, but Scott holds her tight, trying not to let his arms shake, until she pushes away and hugs fWhip.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott says, reaching over for her battleaxe—the least he can do is carry it for her. As soon as he lifts it a couple of inches off the ground, he has to let it fall again with a grunt. He pauses, staring at the massively heavy axe in shock. He’d barely even been able to get it off the ground! How does Katherine even use it?

He heaves, manages to pull it up under both arms, carrying it like a baby rather than a weapon. Who on earth needs an axe this heavy? How much can Katherine lift?

He totters this way and that with the weight of it, following fWhip and Katherine toward the church—Jimmy comes up beside him, takes half the weight of the axe. Together, they carry it inside and lean it against the doorframe. Then, with a jerk of his head, Jimmy exits once again.

That probably means he wants Scott to follow him. Scott bites his lip, glances back at Katherine—she’s already sitting at the table, ravenously attacking a bowl of chicken and rice.

He can talk to her later.

Scott follows Jimmy out of the church, jogs to catch up with him at the edge of town.

“What’s up?” he asks. Jimmy shrugs.

“Just wanted to tell you about the mission. Katherine was pretty much in the same position you were, closed down to just one house.”

“Why’d it take longer to spread to her?”

“Probably something to do with the fact that Katherine’s a known monster hunter, and you were defending yourself with an old iron shovel,” Jimmy laughs, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “She had some tricks up her sleeve. That’s actually why we went for you first—we figured Katherine could hold her own longer.”

“Well, now I’m offended,” Scott says, not actually offended. He’s fully confident that Katherine is more capable than he is against these things.

Jimmy kicks a stone absently. Scott’s eyes follow it as it rolls away, just passing out of range of the border. Jimmy goes to kick it again; Scott throws an arm across his chest to stop him.

“That’s the border,” he points out. Jimmy frowns, points beyond it a couple of feet to where a slat of wood sticks out of the ground.

“No, that’s the border,” he contradicts. “We marked it.”

Scott blinks, stares at the wooden slat. Because, yes, when he got shown around the place, fWhip had made a point of referencing the wooden markers, set two or three meters apart, keeping an eye on where the border was. Apparently Sausage had laid them out before they even arrived, just to make sure none of his villagers ever crossed them.

And yet, Scott’s certain that the border does not fall in place properly.

“Jimmy, I don’t know how to explain this, but I’m certain that the border is . . . here,” he says, pointing to where it is. “This marker must be off, or something.”

Jimmy shakes his head doggedly. “No, Sausage placed them himself. And he can sort of sense the border, since it’s his magic.”

Right. Magic.

Scott closes his right eye, surveys the area closer. Sure enough, just looking through the magically-inclined eye allows him to see a slight shimmer in the air, right where he feels the border is.

And if Sausage had been able to see it too, there’s no way he would’ve gone outside of it to place a marker.

“We need to get Sausage,” he says, and ignores Jimmy’s questions as he runs back to the church.

-

“Yep, it’s moved,” Sausage announces to the gathered crowd—rulers and villagers alike—, straightening up and dusting off his knees. “About three feet here. I’ll check everywhere else—it looks mostly the same, luckily! So you all can go about your day and just know that there’s new boundaries, so stay far away!”

They wait a moment longer, but Sausage turns away and crouches back down, inching his way down the new border, feeling with his hands as to where the line may be. The crowd disperses with a bit of anxious whispering, villagers back to their jobs and homes, rulers back to the church.

Scott kneels down beside Sausage, watching his fingers carefully search out the border. “Can’t you see it?”

Sausage sighs. “A little bit. It’s easier at night. But I can feel the threads that sew into the ground, which is a better way of telling, usually.”

“I can see it,” Scott offers. “My gold eye. It can see magic. Would that help?”

Sausage doesn’t pause in his searching, just nods. “If you wanna go along the border ahead of me and put rocks where you think it is, that would be awesome! I just wanna be totally sure.”

So Scott does that, trailing all the way around Sanctuary in a slow patrol, with an armful of pebbles that he picks up and places down in a line on his way around.

In most places, it’s barely moved. Five or six inches, usually, on rare occasions a foot. But it’s movement, it’s the magical border adjusting against the mites, and more than once as he lays down his line of stones he notices mites right along the border, often piled up against the invisible shield where it bows inward the worst.

The boundaries of Sanctuary are giving, little by little. Scott doesn’t know how long they’ve been up, exactly, but it can’t have been more than a month or so. They’re bending inward, the space stolen little by little and it may be moving slowly right now, but the three feet lost where Scott had first noticed the difference isn’t a small amount. Some points are weaker than others, and those points are a significant blow to their defenses.

If the trends continue, Sanctuary may not be a sanctuary much longer.

He and Sausage finish mapping out the boundary just as the sun completely disappears over the horizon. Sausage turns in, hoping for a few hours of sleep before the moon rises, and Scott stays out, taking first watch and kicking back at the campfire. He’s joined, once again, by Jimmy.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” he asks absently when Jimmy sits across from him. Jimmy shrugs.

“More important things than my sleep.”

“At least tell me you showered. You guys came home all sweaty and gross.”

The way Jimmy’s eyes slide guiltily to the side tells Scott all he needs to know. He rolls his eyes. “Look, Jimmy, you know I love authentic, but you don’t have to be covered in mud to be a cowboy worth my attention. Actually, I think that makes it worse.”

Jimmy groans and buries his face in his hands. “You’d best not be flirting with me,” he threatens. “I get enough of it from fWhip and Sausage already.”

Scott spreads his hands. “I’m just saying, that vibe makes you a pony express that I definitely will not be riding.”

“Scott, stop!” Jimmy sounds very put-out, but when he raises his head, he’s laughing. “You are something else, I’ll tell you that. Go walk the perimeter or something, leave me alone.”

Scott stands obligingly, chuckling, though he’s fairly certain Jimmy doesn’t mean it. As he passes Jimmy, the man catches him by the sleeve.

“I’m really, truly glad you’re here,” he says seriously, smile shadowed a bit by some emotion Scott can’t quite make out. “I know it’s a bad situation, but you’re a good one, Scott. We need you.”

“Thanks,” Scott tells him, touched. Jimmy’s the kind to be open with his feelings, to wear his heart on his sleeves, and it’s been strange to be here with him so closed-off and distant. This is more what he’s used to. “Really, take a night off. I’ll be fine.”

By the way Jimmy nods and dusts off his knees, Scott knows he's just pretending to get up.

And sure enough, when Scott swaps with fWhip for the next watch, there's still the lanky silhouette of a cowboy sitting by the campfire.

Scott actually goes back to his room that night, hanging his coat and fedora in his room and stripping his bed of another blanket before heading to the chapel. This blanket is fully tucked in, and Scott strains for a moment against it before it pops loose.

There's a bounce and a rattle and a little bit of a squeak when he does so, and Scott pauses.

Did that—did the blanket just make noise?

He shakes it out, hears nothing else. He scours the bed, and there's nothing there, peers around the side—

And there, on the floor, dislodged when he moved the blanket, is a little toy mouse.

[luvjunie]

heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment

— 2:00 AM

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes

summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205

a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3

Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.

He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.

He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.

It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.

He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.

He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.

He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.

He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.

“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.

You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.

”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.

“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.

You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.

“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.

”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.

“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“

“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.

“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.

You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.

“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.

“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.

“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.

“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”

He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”

His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.

“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.

Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.

“Miles?” you questioned gently.

Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.

[satoruscursedbandages]

୨ . ࣪ Deal . ﹚ 🍙 !

MENTIONS — NSFW VER, FTM!Reader, jealous Toji, mentions of Cunt/Pussy!, name calling(slut,whore,etc), degradation, Bleeding(from biting nothing serious!), Teasing/Taunting, Tummy bulge, cream pie, scratching, rough fucking.

i think i write about him a little too much..oopsies!

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“I’d never approve of anyone touching ya’, holding ya’ or being as close to ya’ as I ‘m right now.” Toji spoke in a deep tone, he seemed a bit upset. You just came home 10 minutes ago from a party with your friends, co workers. But Toji knew this one ‘friend’ of yours liked you but you were too naive not to think anything of it, you smelt just like that other guy and it drove him crazy. He knew you would never cheat on him that you would never betray his trust, he treated you amazingly..better than any man, woman, or person could. “I should fuckin’ kill that man. I don’t wan’ you hangin’ out wit’ him again.” He told you looking you dead in the eye, he was clearly jealous and he had every right to be.. another man trying to steal Toji’s man away from him? Unacceptable.

“Toji, it’s not like that I swear..“, you tried to protest but he interrupted you speaking once more, “I know you’d never do such’a thing. I just don’t that motha’fucker near you. You fuckin’ smell like him n’ that’s drivin’ me ma—“ you cut his long rambling of jealously off with a kiss, a slow deep passionate kiss hoping to ease him a little, and it worked. Toji had slipped his hand under your shirt harshly and firmly grabbing onto your waist pulling you closer to him as his other large hand rested on the side of your face. Toji kept his eyes open as he looked at you through out the kiss..he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he may have been angry at the moment but that doesn’t change the fact he still loves you and views you as his.

The kiss quickly ended with the both of you slightly panting, you looked up at him noticing the look he had in his eyes. Was he upset?..no..was he weirded out?..absolutely not. He looked completely aroused and looked like he was about to take you in the fuckin’ kitchen. “Hey..what’s with that look Toji?” You asked him with a bit of concern in your tone..that sense of concerned washed away when he suddenly kissed you again, pinning your back up against the counter and spreading your legs open. He stood in between them pressing his slight hard on against your clothed cunt, the energy in the room was soon to be replaced with lust and desire. He wanted to teach you a lesson. A lesson not to hang out with that co-worker with the title of your ‘friend’. He wanted you to lose to ability to walk just so you wouldn’t attend work, he didn’t want you near that man ever again.

Toji stopped the kiss once more to say, “Don’t..fuck with’m. ‘M bein’ serious. Don’t fuckin’ talk to that guy again. I’ll even help ya’ look for a different job just..don’t go near him.” He quickly smushed his lips onto yours kissing you, again. And again. He didn’t stop, he didn’t care if you were struggling to breathe he made sure there were no gaps for you both to stop the kiss, he grabbed your face with one of his calloused rough hands and made sure you couldn’t turn away..he continued to kiss you as he rubbed his erection onto your cunt.

Small little moans could be heard out of your mouth as you both kissed, you attempted to push him off but he was too strong, he finally stopped the kiss though so you could breathe..you panted and breathed heavily as strands of saliva were the only thing keeping your lips connected.

Toji gave the most shit eating grin he could give you, you punched him in the chest with a slightly angry look. You weren’t actually angry with him, you could never be angry with him. You just wanted to beat his ass for getting you into such a position..”ya’know baby, I think you need to’b taught a lesson.”

You tried speaking but was in shock from when he suddenly ripped the part of your pants that was covering your cunt, you weren’t wearing any type of undergarments what so ever and that made his cock twitch. “Oh my. So we aren’t wearin’ any panties now are we? Fuckin’ slut.”, “H—hey!! You can’t just— ah..” you whined when he pressed his thumb against your clit, he used your slick to make his thumb slide up and down on your clit with ease. “Sorry huh? Couldn’t hear ya over the sound of yer moans.” He said in a teasing voice, he chuckled.

His thumb was moving in a circular motion, “so wet f’me. You better only be thinking about me and not him. So help me—..”, “I’m not, I—I can only..think about you.” You struggled but managed to get out as he continued to rub your clit. He sighed looking back into your eyes, he softly kissed the center of your forehead and whispered an apology for getting slightly angry but he continued to tease your clit. You squirmed and wiggled around trying to break away from him but Toji leaned forward laying his body on top of yours so you have no means of escape.

You felt his fingers apply more pressure onto your clit as he rubbed faster in’a circular motion, his mouth was latched on your neck as he suck and nibbled on it leaving dark marks such as hickeys and bite marks. He slightly broke skin licking up the blood. “H—Hngh..haah..Mmph..Toojii..” you were softly moaning his name, your legs wrapped around his waist pulling you closer feeling his erection rubbing up against your cunt.

“Shhh. I know baby.” Toji shoved two of his fingers into your mouth making you gag on them, he used his other hand to pull his cock out of his pants placing them in between your wet folds. Rubbing his cock on your cunt having his tip tease your sore clit once more, you placed one of your hands onto his wrist, gripping on to it. You softly nibbled onto his fingers letting out a soft giggle, he continued to thrust his hips as his cock kept moving back and forth slowly..it drove you mad. You needed it inside you, to stretch you out, to fill you up, to fuck you.

“S-Stawp ttweasing..I-I..can’t take it. Please..i-in!..put it n’me..” you whined begging for his cock to pump deep inside you. Toji didn’t utter a word, he was quiet only thing that was heard were his quiet groans, his low husky groans. Music to your fuckin’ ears. “P—pleeeasee…” you kept trying to plead with him but he still wouldn’t budge, he kept teasing you. His cock only rubbing more and more against your wet cunt, making you whine and tear up..you wanted him so bad. So so so bad and he wouldn’t give it to you..such a fuckin’ bully. :(

“Mm. Sorry baby you’re gon’a have t’wait.” Toji let out a soft chuckle, his tip was poking at your hole but he didn’t slid it in, you kept wining and letting our small sobs but he didn’t care. He was teaching you a lesson..you’ll take what he gives you and you wont throw’a fit.

You felt the tip of his cock keep moving in and out, making you shudder and squirm each time it poked at your wet entrance. You wanted more so bad but you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Your juices were leaking onto his cock, he placed your legs over his shoulders as he brought his hands under your shirt squeezing your breasts. He pinched and tugged on your nipples earning a cute moan from you, his lips curled into a devious smile. The state you were in made him laugh, you were a hot fuckin’ mess just waiting to be broken and messed with.

“T—Toji! M’..fuckin’ take..it anymhore..! *sob* Plwease…i—i.. i wan’ *hic* yuu..n’me…” you cried out in between broken moans trying to speak but couldn’t. He knew what he was doing to you, he was going to break you before he fucked you, he liked it like that. You barely being able to speak, going cross eyed, only moaning his name like a dirty slut. He knew you liked it. “Toojjii..s—stawp..givin’..me the..silent..trweatment..” you sniffled looking at him with your big wet eyes, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. The way you looked at him made his cock twitched, he sighed then finally speaking up, “sorry baby, but ya’ know ‘m not gon’a give in n’ give ya’ what ya’ want. But keep looking at me n’ i just might..do sumthin’.” And with that he squeezed your chest more fondling with your breasts, “but i guess I’d feel bad if i kept seein’ m’ baby cry. So that this like a good boy, ‘kay?” Toji kissed your forehead as he then slowly slid his cock inside your wet pussy, your eyes widened as you screamed out his name. He didn’t stretch you out so it did hurt a bit, but you also liked it..it hurt so fuckin’ bad but it felt so good. You scratched the back of his neck leaving scars that’ll appear tomorrow morning.

“T—Toji!! Tojii!!.. kngh..agh~!..” he let his cock go in all the way before thrusting his hips slowly not wanting to go rough on you right away, you instantly came on his cock, leaving a big fucking mess on it. “My’my..barely put it in just for’ya to instantly make a mess on me? Dirty slut.” He brought a hand to your clit slapping it harshly, you whimpered from the harsh sensation. His cock was slipping in and out slowly with ease, he used your pre as lube since you were already so wet for him. It was easy for him to move his cock in you, his cock was finally all the way in you. A small bulge appeared on your stomach, your shaky hands went to place your hands over it so you could feel him even more. “Damn boy. Yer massaging m’so fuckin’ well. Tight ass fuckin’ pussy.” He grumbled lowly, he began to most a little faster in you as you slowly got comfortable to his length and girth. You let out such lewd moans you guys were probably gonna a noise complaint from your next door neighbors.

“Ffuck.” He groaned out, you were incredibly tight to him, each time he tried to move his cock a little bit out he couldn’t, your tight cunt wouldn’t let him go. “Mmph..haah! Ah, ah!!.. kyaah!!” You kept on moaning not being able to even speak properly you felt like you were in heaven. Who wouldn’t though? His cock was ridiculously fuckin’ big hitting every damn spot in your pussy, any man, woman or person would lose their shit to this. You grabbed the back of his head slowly and weakly pulling him towards you pulling him in for a sloppy messy kiss. It took him by surprise a bit but he didn’t mind, he kissed you back. Just as sloppy as you, shoving his tongue in your throat, sucking on your tongue, biting your lips until they were bruised. You felt a devious smirk curl in his lips once more as he kissed you, you were laid out onto the counter as he fucked you on it, completely forgetting about everything that happened earlier, all of your attention and focus was on him. A few more seconds later you broke the kiss to breathe..you quickly gasped as you felt his cock enter your womb. Toji started fuckin’ you dumb, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched as much as it could. “That’s m’ boy. Ya’ never disappoint. f..fuckin’ ya’ feel incredible.”

There was another feeling of a knot in your stomach, you needed to come so bad. You needed that release..Toji moved his cock faster hitting every spot in your tight cunt, the way you gripped him made him feel like he was also about to cum. “‘M ‘bouta cum. Shit. A little more.” He pumped himself inside you harder and faster a couple more times. “Ya’ don’t mind if I cream pie you, right? Of course you don’t. That’s what ya’ want, right?” You nodded like a dumbass, barely comprehending what he said you just nod to anything he says, you were drunk on pleasure, drunk on his cock. You moaned and begged him to go faster to not stop, he did exactly that. He was getting closer and closer to his release, his thrusts becoming more rough and faster. “Better take ‘t all baby.” He came inside you, filling you up to the brim. Toji’s warm sticky cum filled up your needy hole, some of it seeped out of your pussy but his cock stayed in as a plug to make sure it all stayed inside. You felt so full..so full of his cum. But you needed more. You wanted to feel him more. You needed to cum more, you wanted more of his cum inside you.

“T—Toji..don’..stawp…p—plwease..f—fill m’ up..im yer slut..d—daddy..” you said in between broken moans, soft little sobs escaping your pretty lips. What you said brought a big ass smile to his fuckin’ face, “ya’ sure that’s what ya’ want?” You nodded quickly and with no hesitation Toji’s cock moved once more inside that tight, cum filled, pussy of yours. He continued to hit every spot like he did previously, only more rough than the last time. He had such a harsh grip on your hips, pounding himself inside you as he moved your hips, using you like a toy. You were his after all, you were such a good boy you could take this. You wanted to be a good boy, his good boy. You wanted to please him..you felt yourself closer and closer to your release..each thrust he did drove you mad, you felt your hips bruising and getting sore from how aggressive he was. You felt yourself cum onto his cock, your cum and his cum mixing together as you both made a big mess on the counter. Your whole body went limp, you were paralyzed by pleasure. You felt so good, your jaw was hung open as your eyes were also closed. Toji held you close to him as he kept on pounding himself deep in you, his tip kissing your cervix. “I need more..yeah. All mine. Yer all fuckin’ mine. Shit.” He whispered lowly into your ear as he did a small growl, he felt like he was about to come again, with the amount of cum inside you, you felt like you could get pregnant with 3 of his kids.

Though that wouldn’t happen since your always made sure to stay on the pill, especially from the amount of times a day he fucks you. You both are like two bunnies fucking like there’s no tomorrow. Just like right now..he’s fucking his dumb slut just the way you want it, you’re like a fuck doll getting fucked but its owner, except you’re real. And he can feel when you try to grip onto his cock. “S’fuckin’ tight..feel like ya’ gon’a knock me out cold wit’ this pussy baby boy.” Toji grunted out, his groans were becoming moans, you could hear his slight desperation of another release. He wanted both of you to orgasm at the same time, “don’ fuckin’ cum till I tell you too.” He ordered you, you listened..you knew better than to not listen to him. “Shit. More..fuck. More. I need more, yeah. Yer mine, all fuckin’ mine. You belong to me. Not that fuckin’ prick. I’m gonna make sure my scent is all fuckin’ over ya’ so he won’t even go near ya’. I wan’a fuckin’ kill that prick.” His fucking was more rough, his nails dug into your hips causing them to bleed a little. He was going to mark you, make you his..his grip on you hips were harsh, keeping you in place as he fucked you like a wild animal, “don’ forget this, ya’ better not. You know how I ‘m wit’ya. This’ll happen a lot more when ya’ least expect it..betta’ look forward to it. Don’ have any expectations eitha’..I’ll break them. One by fuckin’ one. Deal?”, his greenish-blue eyes glowed in the low lit room, you responded weakly, “y—yesh..I—I…understwand…m—mph..please…I wa—wana’ cuumm..”

“Mm? Ya’ wan’a cum? Do ya’ deserve it?” He asked, at this point he was toying with you. You wanted to feel him fill you up again, you wanted to cum with him SO fuckin’ bad. You nodded like a dumbass..unable to speak. You were stimulated with pleasure, pleasure that you couldn’t stop feeling. You felt his cock hit every spot inside your pussy, it felt so fucking good. The way it would throb inside you, the way it would tickle your cervix, the way it fucked your womb. “Fine, betta’ take’t like a good slut.” He came once more, filling up your already full hole, you came along with him. The cum had dripped out of you, onto your thighs, to the counter, and onto the floor..that was gonna be a bitch to fuckin’ clean out but you’ll worry about that later. Your back was sore from arching so much you laid completely on the kitchen counter, gasping and panting heavily hoping that he was done, he was. Thank god.. you weren’t able to speak but you nuzzled your head onto his hand and kissed the palm of it out of appreciation before slowly falling asleep on the counter. You were so exhausted but at least now you knew better..he didn’t want you smelling like other men or being around ones that purposely tried to take you away from him. Toji smiled, he picked your sleeping body up bringing you to the bed room, he was going to clean you up later but you needed rest and so did he. You were both exhausted.

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[virgincels]

r/AmItheAsshole

u/bwckennedy77 ・ 15h

AITA for having sexual relations with a girl that looks like my daughter?

Asshole

(tags - daddy daughter incest, facial, oral sex, some coercion, bad writing bc i’m tired and can’t execute the idea properly, be nice and don’t look at any mistakes!! leon small dick ik but he’s big for my sake here.)

Hi Reddit! New to this thing, first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why. Now, to cut to the chase, my wife left me this year a little after our daughter (20) moved out. Our marriage (M47, F46) had been strained for a couple years prior so I understand why she ended things. I’m stretched thin with an intensive job that requires me to be away for days and weeks at a time. I thought she would get it considering it is related to the military/government, but I guess all those missed birthdays really got to her! I have no qualms with this and totally understand her reasoning haha.

I don’t get the time to go on dates because of work like I said before and I really don’t have the energy to go on them anyway. I have a bit of a drinking problem if I’m completely honest which is where my actual story starts I guess.

I was at a bar and I don’t usually attempt to pick up girls but sometimes they come onto me I don’t think I have the worst face in the world, some call it easy on the eyes. Long story short this girl comes up to me she’s pretty young, I don’t usually go for younger girls. I mean I don’t go for any girls at all because I was married up until recently obviously haha, but I’m not one to say no so I took her back to my place.

Chick got super freaked out and started getting her things when I bent her over in the bedroom. Thought it was just reality hitting her or some shit. She was calling me a creep and she left as my daughter let herself in, she’s back in town and only just arrived at that moment.

They looked at each other and it hit me. They looked the same. That chick saw the photo I have of my daughter on the cabinet and flipped. The chick leaves and my daughter gets super mad at me starts calling me names and she went up to her room and she won’t speak to me now. Didn’t think that it was that big of a deal you know? Don’t really know what I did wrong since it wasn’t intentional or anything but with the way she’s acting I just feel like a dick so AITA?

⇧ 52478 | ⇩ 💬 27821

Killer_RedQueen79 ・ 14h・ Supreme Court Just-Ass [124]

I hope to fucking god this is not you Leon.

bwckennedy77 OP・ 11h

I don’t know any Leon’s sorry

DuckieUnderWater ・ 13h ・ Partassipant [2]

Dude why the whole fucking life story. Title alone was enough for me to know that YTA and a fucking creep.

bwckennedy77 OP ・ 2h

I think you’re all taking this out of context! I didn’t want her because she looks like my daughter, I’m just easy!

NeonGenesis738 ・ 12h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]

first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why

I could name a few fucking reasons why you sick fuck. YTA. She should call the cops and go non contact.

bwckennedy77 OP ・ 5h

I am a super cop buddy! Very high rank!!!

NeonGenesis738 ・ 2h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]

Of course you fucking are

YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA.

Leon scoffs, reading glasses slipping down the slant of his nose as he squints at his screen. He is not the fucking asshole here. No one is. You’re just a bit of a drama queen. Just like your ma, but you haven’t quite reached the levels of hysteria that Leon has managed in his day to day life.

Man, there’s never a clean slate. Just more and more shit piled on top of shit and more shit—Enough to break the ozone layer or whatever it is that’s going on in this little world. The other problems that he can’t save it from.

It has been two meandering days since you’ve talked to him, you move like a ghoul in the night to avoid a one on one Family Meeting that Leon has been itching to suggest. Reddit, as Claire suggested - not for this occasion, but for when he generally needs a variety of opinions - is unhelpful. Reddit is a crowd that wields its pitchforks at anything that passes by.

Like, seriously, it’s not like Leon picked her out of the crowd, he didn’t sit there waiting for her to show up—Well, he did let down the shortstack that approached him first, and the blonde with the hollow face, and the dude who bought him a drink. They just didn’t tickle his fancy and that’s alright. Can’t help having a type, and to clarify that type is not his daughter.

Divorce is tough, alright? Leon’s always looking for a friendly face, hers probably came with all those memories of you attached and he subconsciously picked her out. Fuckin’ made him release endorphins or some shit. And she was cute. Because you’re cute. Not in a weird way, just subjectively, you’re a cute girl with a nice body you can owe to him. Christ, it all sounds so wrong when he puts it into perspective, but that was never his intention.

He fucked his wife whenever he could get it up, he fucked her for a long fucking time for a number of years. Leon wouldn’t fuck a woman he finds ugly, he found her pretty hot, actually, and it just so happens that you look like your ma. So, you’re a good-looking kid—Not in a weird way. Never in a weird way.

That’s how it works, isn’t it? Kids look like their parents and parents can admire that and it doesn’t mean they want to fuck them.

But that girl was—She was hot, god damn it. He had her tits in his hands, squeezing them so tight she squealed, pushing them up and down, slapping them left and right, fat spilling past the gaps in his fingers. And so what if Leon thought that they looked like yours.

Maybe he thought about that time at the beach, when your string bikini did exactly what good string bikinis do - come undone.

(He had lowered his sunglasses and looked right at you.)

Maybe about that time you needed a towel and Leon took a peek at your body through the steamed glass when he tossed one over the shower door.

(“My eyes are closed, sweetheart!” He had promised while staring at you very open-eyed.)

Or when he sent you off to bed with a smack on the ass ‘cause he just wasn’t thinking too hard, Leon hardly ever thinks at all. He played it off as sportsmanship or whatever. Game got him amped up.

(You look like your mom from behind, he couldn’t help himself, it was an impulse—It was only natural.)

Leon has the bright idea to pass the time by watching porn, because honestly he’s been pent up since it happened. First time his dick kicked in weeks and she walked out on him all ‘cause she looked a little like his daughter. Weak. Freud never mentioned anything about this—Not that Leon knows much about that guy, nothing at all actually, but from what he’s heard, no dads crushing on daughters have ever been mentioned. Or maybe he's got reading to do.

Porn is usually a quick and easy fix. It is for everybody. Not Leon though, he’s gotta search hard for shit he likes, it’s not on the front page and it takes him forever to find one that’s suitable. Some of ‘em have too much dick, some of the positions just look painful, some of these clits aren’t being touched, and some of these girls are just plain ugly.

Then he finds one, she’s real cute, that’s all. Nothing is familiar about her eyes and nose and lips and body and hair. Not the way she smiles over her shoulder at him. Nothing at all.

He falls asleep with the tab open and a hand down his pants.

To avoid detection, you creep around the house when it’s lights out. Dad wakes up easily, military training and whatnot. So you’ve gotten used to this, sneaking leftovers from the fridge past midnight, watching the TV on silent, squinting to read the subtitles.

He didn’t mean it. You think. You hope. Leon is so… So harmless. Your dad is sweet and a little stupid, he’s kind and clueless and all of the things most dads are. He buys you an abundance of apples when you tell him you like apples, he throws out the oranges when you tell him you don’t like them ‘cause they make your hands smell funny. He stands on the porch watching the clouds, he sleeps alone in his king sized bed and hugs his pillow tight. He keeps his wedding ring on his bedside cabinet next to a picture of you

But that was weird. Seriously, you thought he put a mirror in the hall for a minute. Or that you were in some strange dreamscape. Or in a coma. Or all of the above.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he just brushed you off like it meant nothing. Like that girl wasn’t your long lost twin, a sister he and your mom put up for adoption twenty years ago. So, yeah, you got a little pissy at him. ‘Cause it’s nothing to act nonchalant about.

Okay, and what if this is a little bit of a projection.

You got mad at him, real mad, ‘cause maybe you were a little jealous and maybe you like knowing that your dad is single and not fucking—Maybe you think about that time you went to the sauna together, all that sweat, beading along the firm lines of his abdomen, dripping down and down and down and melting into the fabric of his white towel. Maybe you wanted to see what was under there. Maybe you mix up the laundry on purpose, make it so he can’t find a nice shirt to wear and he gives up and does without one all together.

Maybe you do all those things. Maybe you don’t want to be a bad person, and the guilt outweighs your desires.

Or maybe you are just a very regular girl behaving in very regular ways to the sight of your dad fucking your lookalike. Maybe it’s that. God, please be that.

You wander into his room with a very dire problem. There’s a spider in the shower, and maybe you're ready for that Family Meeting now.

He’s sleeping, the blue light of his laptop casts a glow on his face, head tipped back, lips parted as he snores loudly. You almost don’t catch it. Then, when you go to shake him awake gently, you take a good look at his screen and find the weight of the world is not enough to support the wave of anger that rips through you, a tsunami tearing a nation in half.

No fucking way. No fucking way. No fucking way!

He’s watching porn, whatever, he can do that. Your dad is a grown man, and while you don’t exactly want to know about his tastes, you sorta had him figured out. The kind of man who watches corny studio porn with unwet pussy and dicks so big they shouldn’t be allowed within 10 feet of a vagina.

The girl on the screen—She looks like you. Albeit a little plastic in the way most professional pornstars are. Too-firm tits, filler migrating into the space above her lips, it hurts for her to smile and—Well, none of this fucking matters because she looks like you and your dad is watching her take two dicks in one hole.

And wow. She’s taking them well. Really… Really well. This isn’t so bad, you salute his taste a little more—Oh, wow, that guy is kind of… You recognise him, something about his face is familiar.

You press rewind.

It starts cheesy and devolves into something cheesier. It starts dirty and it ends with a dick in her pussy and one in her mouth, they might end up meeting in the middle, kiss tips in her guts.

It’s the loud one—The one that says all the dirty shit and spits in her mouth and slaps her tits and knocks her around—He looks like dad.

Mainly from the side, the straight edge of his nose, the way his eyes crease when he smiles down at her all mean.

(You skip anytime he faces the camera head on.)

“You’re really enjoying that, huh?”

“Jesus Christ—“ You jolt and knock your head against the headboard. “Dad!”

“Baby!”

“You scared me,” you say, elbowing him in the gut as he sits up, “I wasn’t—Why’re you watching this?”

“What? I can’t watch porn in my room now?” Leon pauses the video, he’s not upset, amused but not upset.

“No—I mean you can, do whatever you want, but why is it… She looks like…” You wave your hand at the screen like it’s a hologram and it’ll go if you wave it away. It’ll flicker if you stare at it long and hard enough.

“Like what, sweetheart?” He drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulls you into his chest as you stammer like a fucking idiot. “Go on, you’re a big girl.”

“Let go of me,” you tell him weakly, a shoddy attempt at sounding horrified. Like you should when you’re caught watching porn—Your dad’s porn nonetheless.

“No, that’s not what it is, baby, answer my question.” He holds you in place, hand running up and down your side, rubbing circles into the fat of your hip. “Who does she look like?”

“Like… Like no one.”

“No, I don’t think that’s right, c’mon, I’ll give you one more chance, baby.” Leon’s fingers are cool on your skin, slipping under the hem of your shirt and settling on your waist. “Who does she look like?”

You turn your head, but he catches your chin and forces you to stare at the screen, right into her face—Your face. “Like me…”

“See, baby?” He kisses your forehead like he has a million times before. “Knew you could do it, my good girl,” he says like he does after you ace your tests, when you learnt how to ride a bike, and now he’ll say it while you learn to work his dick. “And who does he look like?”

“…Like you, dad.”

“Well done, baby,” he coos, kissing your jaw, “you’re so smart, aren’t you, baby?”

“Stop it—“ Your body catches alight when his hands slide upwards, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing so tight they might pop. “Stop it, dad—I don’t…”

What if, and this is a big what if, what if you get pregnant and the punnett square is one-by-one—It’s a punnet rectangle at that point.

What if your mom finds out?

What if you like it?

That’s the worst part of it all - you will like it.

You’ve wanted this—You can’t even keep up the lie anymore. You’ve wanted him for so long you couldn’t hold back a smile at court, when they signed those papers and when mom moved out you kept smiling. Fuck. What is wrong with you?

“You liked that didn’t you?” Dad says in your ear, his breath is hot and he smells like soap and sweat. His stubble tickles your skin when he presses a wet kiss to your neck. “Bet it got your little pussy all wet.”

“No it didn’t.” You try to level yourself, taking a shuddering breath when his hand dips past your navel to toy with the bow that lines the middle of your waistband.

“Okay, prove it.”

“How am I meant to prove that, dad?” You click your tongue, lay the annoyance act on thick, but make no attempt to leave.

“You gotta show me, baby.” He flicks your forehead with his free hand, the other cups your mound. “Can feel you already.”

“Then I guess I don’t need to show you,” you breathe out, placing your trembling hand on the arm that’s wrapped around you while his fingers run up and down your clothed slit.

“Nah, think I need to know for sure.” Leon’s teeth nip at your ear lobe, tugging lightly as he pulls your panties taut to your cunt, a makeshift g-string, caught between your pussy lips. “So fat, baby, whatcha been feeding her?” Your dick. Your dick. God, please, feed it your dick. He pinches your cunt, pushing your lips together and your clit throbs so hard you think it might burst.

“Dad,” you gasp, back going ramrod straight as the fabric rubs up against your swollen clit. “Don’t say that—So weird, you’re so weird, actual fucking weirdo.”

“Look at you.” His shirt slips from your shoulder as you rut your hips up, his grip on the waistband tightens, bunches up even further, pushing against your clit so hard it might split in half. “Dirty little girl, why you doin’ that?” You feel dad’s smile on your neck.

“‘Cause…” You grab at his arm, pushing your face into his bicep to muffle an embarrassing whine and it’s so fucking big. Muscle cushioned by a layer of fat, when you dig your fingers into it, his skin dimples.

“‘Cause..?” Leon taps your clit, lets go of your panties to let your pussy breathe. “I’m waiting, baby.”

“Feels good, dad,” you whimper, hanging your head in shame, pressing your nose into the crease of his elbow as he slides your panties to the side.

“I know, baby, you can’t help yourself, can you?” Dad drags a finger along your slippery slit, pussy clicking wetly when he dips a finger inside your tight hole. “Think daddy spoiled you too much.”

“Not… Not true…” You stifle another noise into his bicep, suckling on his skin to taste it.

After this is all said and done, you might have to leave and never look back. You might have to emancipate yourself so you can marry him, take back your last name and pretend it was never yours to begin with.

Slowly, Leon rubs figure eights into your twitching clit, you grind into him, ears burning at the squelch of your drippy cunt—He isn’t even in your hole, he’s just playing with your clit and you’re making a mess, pussy all sloppy and noisy.

When you cum, it’s a gradual burn that washes over you like waves lapping at your ankles. Your toes curl and there’s a strangled noise in your throat as your pussy drips slick into the cupped palm of his hand.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Leon coos, “that’s what you needed, hm?”

You rock your hips into his hand as your high melts away, leaving half-guilt and half-regret and a wet pussy that’s perfect for fucking.

Dad lays you down, he still keeps mom’s perfume, he still sprays it on the bed sheets. It's the first thing you smell when your head hits the pillow with a soft thump. This is the bed you were made in, it’s the bed you slept in on sick days and nights when thunder was particularly loud. It’s the bed you slept in when dad was away and you and mom only had each for warmth.

What are you doing?

Well, you’re lifting your hips in the air so dad can take your panties off. Then you’re spreading your legs as far as they go so he gets a clear view of your pussy, glistening under the dimmed bulb, slick coating your puffy lips and drying on your inner thighs.

His sweats are lowered, cock springing up and smacking his abdomen, the tip drips and drizzles him in honey. Oh, god—It’s like big? You didn’t expect that, actually. You’d like to say you haven’t thought of it all, but you have and you do often.

“Think you can take it, baby?” Leon asks, tapping the fat head on your bud. Heart to heart, tip to clit. “Or does daddy need to eat your pussy?”

“I can take it, dad…” You nod, giving an earnest nod of your head and sizing up his cock, doing some mental mathematics as you try to calculate how many inches deep your pussy is and how big that fucking dick is. Although… You want his mouth on you—But that cock is more important right now.

“Atta girl.” He never pushes it in. You ache and shiver with each drag of his cock along your pussy, it bumps your clit and your whole body jolts.

For a moment, your mind and body disconnect, you’re watching a terribly taboo porn video and taking gross amounts of pleasure in it—Living out your fantasy through the bodies of others because it’s the closest you’ll ever get. But this is very much real and it is very much wrong.

When dad slides in, the fat head of his dick breaching your walls, the second he bottoms out, your pussy forces him back out as you cum for a second time, fucking gushing from the weight of his dick bumping into your cervix.

“Oh, baby, is it too much for you?” Sweetly, Leon presses a kiss between your tits as your chest heaves. “Is your pussy too little, daddy can try again another day, sweetheart.” He’s winding you up.

“Noo—Dad, please, ‘m want it so bad, please,” you beg incoherently, cunt dripping with your release.

“Okay, baby,” he abides, pressing the tip to your hole and pushing into you inch by inch. Being torn in half has never felt so good. “Only ‘cause I love you, my spoiled girl, huh?”

“Oh, fuck,” you sob, fat tears catching on your lower lashes as he stretches you out, “dad—daddy!”

“I know, baby, daddy’s right here,” Leon hums, he lowers his face to press into your tits, taking a peaked nipple into his mouth and popping off to suck on the other. Then he fucking motorboats you. Because of course he does.

You cry out, pushing at his head. “That’s so embarrassing, dad!” You manage to tell him through each of his mean thrusts, poking at your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your guts.

“‘S not, baby, dad just thinks your tits are real cute.” He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulls until you squeal, smacking a fist against his chest.

Each drag of his dick inside of you is like—Gosh, you don’t know, it’s like heaven on earth or whatever the best feeling in this godforsaken place is. The smell of dew in the morning, a can of soda with a burger, the scent of cinnamon apple candles during Christmas time. It’s his dick rabbiting into your pussy with enough force to fuel a fucking rocket ship.

The schlick of your pussy goes unheard as his balls slap against your ass, and you dig your nails into his to push him deeper, it’s so fucking soft—Why is his ass so soft? 

“So little, baby.” Dad pouts down at you, one big hand on your tit and the other cups your cheek. “Daddy can’t even fit inside.”

You squeeze down on him, and your greedy cunt sucks his dick in to the best of your abilities, but there’s still an inch or two that you can’t possibly fit. The base of his cock is coated in a milky white ring, it drips down his balls and—God, you’re about to cum again. His thumb finds your clit, and thank god it does. You cum so hard you see stars and all of Saturn’s moons.

“Aw, baby, you needed that.” Dad continues to hump into your cunt, his furrowed brow and the puff of his breath on your face is almost too much for you to handle. “My baby, always mouthin’ off at me, you just needed some dick, didn’t you? Jus’ needed dad to play with this spoiled little cunt, hm?”

“Mhm…” You nod because what else are you meant to do? Say no? The man is right.

He pulls out and you whine, pussy gripping him so tight Leon groans as hm the head pops out with a lewd, wet sound. “C’mere, baby, come on.” He urges you to sit up, so you do, using your elbows to push up as you’re met face to face with his fat cock.

Leon smears the tip on your lips, and you swear to god you’d finish off a cute lip combo with his pre. You take the head into your mouth and suck on it, it’s velvety under your tongue, you wrap a hand around his shaft to make up for what you can’t suck. It’s uncut on the fat, skin folding and creasing each time you pump him, peeking out from underneath the hood so you can tongue his slit. He tastes like your pussy and something muskier.

He groans all deep and nice and smooth, low in his throat, makes your pussy tingle. You jerk his wet cock off, mouthing along the base of his cock until you suck on his sac, slurping and smacking like you oughta do for a dick like this. His balls plap, plap, plap against your hand and they tighten before he cums, thick sticky seed spilling from the tip like the slow trickle of honey. It paints your face white, dribbling down your cheeks and chin to stain your tits.

“Put those cute glasses on next time, baby.” Leon kisses your mouth, licking into it and tasting his salty cum. “The ones you wear to class.”

Dazed, guilty and giddy all at once, you look up at him with a frown. “Why?”

“‘Cause I wanna cum on them, stupid.” He flicks your forehead again, sends you out of his room with a hard smack on the ass.

“Wait, dad!” You hold onto him before Leon makes you leave.

“Hm?” He strokes your head as you pout up at him, softening so easily. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, can you get rid of it?”

“No,” he scoffs, “get outta here, ‘s all you use me for.”

“Dad!” You whine, latching onto him, “daddy, please, it’s so big! Please, we can… We can do it together, um, shower together not—not kill the spider together.”

Leon grumbles the entire time, he squashes it with a tissue and flushes it down the toilet, but any qualms are washed away by the hot water and your plush tits pressing to his chest as you stand facing him.

You could get used to this. You shouldn’t, but you will.

r/AmItheAsshole

u/bwckennedy77 ・ 1m

AITA for fucking my daughter?

[redeyerhaenyra]

Imagine being a porn couple with Soap

Summary: Headcanons of being a pornhub couple with Johnny :3

Warnings: Smut duh, recording sex, sex tapes, public sex, roleplay n costumes, Johnny is handsy, Johnny is kinda pushy w reader, oral (f receiving), fem coded reader, an English lass attempting to write a Scottish accent is its own warning 😭

Notes: Johnny in a kilt save me. Save me Johnny in a kilt.

Oouugghhhh

This vision appeared to me in a dream

So imagine you n johnny are a couple

And overtime he slowly convinces you that the many, many recordings he's made of you two fucking should get posted online

"Ah you'll be so popular hen, you've no idea, just imagine, so many drooling over what only I can touch."

He's kinda a pushy, needy asshole about it but I'll elaborate on that in a later post 🤷🏻‍♀️

Eventually you agree, and Johnny is soooo giddy

Gives you a big, crushing hug and and a wet, messy kiss

He makes you both a pornhub account, posts a few videos he's got saved, and waits...

Within hours you get soooo much interaction

Johnny proudly shows you all the comments lusting over you

"Look! Look! See! Ah told ya didn' ah?"

He's so dog coded 😩

Johnny gets such an ego boost from it all, he gets new ideas of what you should post all the time

DEFINITELY has several videos of him in his kilt

Probably has a playlist featuring various kilt related scenarios

"Just showin' off ma heritage hen.."

The on thing i will not budge on is this:

He has DEFINETLY bought you some kind of cosplay peasant dress, driven you all the way out to a forest and fucked you there. Titles the video "English farmgirl gets fucked by Scottish brute."

He's extra mean that day, pushes your face into the dirt and growls and you and cums on your face :(

To make it up to you, you both film another video in the car afterwards where he eats you out so sweetly 😇

He gets so handsy in public too, he just LOVES filming you

You think he's just being cheeky then BOOM you see under the table he's recording his hand creeping up your skirt

There is a less than zero percent chance he's used that phat military paycheck on a really expensive, high quality camera and tripod

[moondirti]

Your ghostsoap x preg!reader!!??? I'm in love I need more of this. You have more thoughts for that universe? I just fell in love with your writing.

Let me camp in this corner of your blog, I'm friendly and don't bite (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

they're all i've been able to think about all day. of course i have more to say <3 if you're curious, anon is referring to this, which should be read before this part.

tags: DARK FIC. manipulation. vehicle tampering. planned abduction. pregnant fem!reader. established ghostsoap – who are not the fathers but would definitely like to be. mentions of somnophilia

Delusional as they might be, it's hard to justify something as egregious as blunt-force kidnapping. Though it briefly occurs to Simon – to pluck you from the parking lot and drive off the hour after they decide to keep you – the logistics don't iron out. Of chief concern, you're six months pregnant. What they'd typically use for POW's thus become's inconsiderable for you; Johnny's the wiz, but even he knows the effects chloroform can have on a foetus. The alternative isn't any better, either – his partner just balks at the idea of tying you up and throwing you in the trunk. (She'll never git ower it, Si. Dae ye want her tae hate us?)

So, things unfold in a far subtler manner.

They go home that night they first meet you. Can't coordinate without resting on it, they rationalise, without scoping their place to assure it's suitable for their soon-to-be-mother. They tuck away the knives laying on random countertops, air out the quilts gifted to them by Johnny's ma in an attempt to make their room cozier. And when they sleep, they dream of you tucked in between them, knocked out, sex-drunk. Dressed in nothing but a shirt, cunt bared for either of them to toy with throughout the night.

Hours upon hours later, well into noon the next day, Simon wakes to find his boy rutting into his thigh, still somewhat comatose, and sneaks a rough hand into his boxers to tug the tension out of the poor thing. They only get up as the fissures of dusk begin to spread across the sky, loading their car with a toolbox and making the drive back to The Dahlia, staking out in the parking lot as they wait for you to arrive for your shift.

(Johnny had deployed the old charm as you brought out their food in two baggies last night, disguising the trap with a lilting laugh as he audibly wondered why you picked up such a late shift.

You’d only shrugged and said you preferred to work nights.)

Sure enough, you pull up in a beat-up Kia at 2200, fussing with your bag as you stumble to the back entrance of the roadhouse.

"Forgot to lock it." He mutters, following your form until it disappears from view. Johnny only frowns, tightening his fingers over his thumb. A little nervous tick.

"Should we be doin' this?"

"And what is this?" Simon turns to appraise the scotsman, larger hand enveloping his, calloused fingertips smoothing over scarred knuckles. "Y'think they'd be kinder to 'er? The type of scum we know grace this earth? It's a wonder she made i' this far, Johnny."

He isn't convinced.

"Look a' me." Blue eyes widen to meet his, dark as their owner battles intuitions that have always been straighter than the Ghosts'. "Wanna give 'er a good life, yeah?"

"Aye. The best."

"Would she be so convinced?" But he knows the answer. They both saw the way you withdrew after being hit on, losing the effusiveness you initially greeted them with. Avoidant. Classic case of hyper-competency, perhaps the very reason you put up with such shitty circumstances to begin with. A stubborn knot they'll have to undo themselves.

And Johnny likes the challenge.

"Lass's got something tae prove." Moments pass in silence. Then: "Ah’ll get th' wire."

"Atta' boy."

They only enter the establishment an hour before the end of your shift. It’s 0600 and space is sleepy. At a point that had escaped their notice, someone had made the choice to shut the overhead fluorescents, and so all that functions to illuminate the dinette is the pale dawn outside. Johnny finds he prefers it like this, grumbling a tired endorsement, before branching off in search of the bathroom, hand rubbing the sore column of his throat.

The softening mass in his pants jumps once Simon catches sight of you, balancing two trays in one hand as you wipe down the serving hatch. He doesn’t need to say anything. You catch the dark blur of him in the corner of your eye, shuffling into a booth, where he occupies an entire side with the mere spread of his legs.

“Hello again. Just you today?” You’re twirling your pen, cradling your belly, and he notes the perpetual shadow cast under your eyes. Poor pet.

He shakes his head, then cocks it toward the loo. “Think he’ll have a go at the toastie today.”

“Good choice. Hard to fuck up.” You give him a tired smile. “And for you?”

“M’good.”

“You sure? Look like you’ve been on the road again, and-" You pause, the water of your eyes rippling as you appraise his mask. Something seems to click just then, because you nod and tuck your notepad away. “I’ll ask again at the end. Maybe you’ll want something to-go.”

In the end, they do take something to go.

Not as greasy as the toastie Johnny spends the hour tearing into, glossing the pads of his fingers with oil. Nor as sour as the coffee he sipped on last night, burnt and way past freshness, just like you’d warned them about. But a much, much sweeter keepsake. Something that’ll sate them for much longer.

You’ve already clocked out once they leave The Dahlia, faces grim but as innocent as they can possibly muster. Sure enough, you’re out standing by your car, wiping tears with the back of your hand. They’re close enough that they can catch snippets of your conversation on the phone (No, I don’t– and It is old but never–).

They wait until you grow desperate, hiccuping – Don’t have that kind of money. Please – before intervening.

“Hey. What’s the matter, hen?” Johnny approaches first, concern no faux thing, smoothing a hand down your arm. What Simon said earlier comes back around (Wanna give 'er a good life?) and his chest tightens at the sheer despair he sees etched across your face. You shouldn’t be this stressed about anything this far along, should have someone taking care of you.

He, they, can be that for you. Could give you everything you ask for and more.

“M-my car. I-I don’t– I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with it, and–”

“Shhh, issalright. Not starting, eh?”

“No. And I have to- to get home before… before–”

Simon steps in, crowding you against the side of your car. You don’t have it in you to look for the red flags; the glances they throw one another, the subtle crinkle in the masked one’s eyes as he smiles. No, you don’t– can’t consider it dangerous. Not when these two wonderfully kind men, who tipped you 100% of their bill both times they came in, are one of your only means of getting help.

“Where do you live? We’ll drive ya if it’s on our way.” A lie. They’ll drive you regardless, and you won’t be taken home.

“Oh- no. That’s okay, really. I’ll just a-ask my boss if I can get a sub on my pay, and–”

Johnny smooths a finger across your cheek.

“Nonsense, hen. It’ll be a skoosh.”

next part

[i23kazu]

SLEEPY PAPA CUDDLES

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help guys i literally cannot stop making daddy neuvi content | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

on the days when some of the melusine get sick, neuvillette wishes he could stay home.

the heartbroken wails of his sick littlest ones pierce his heart – but as chief justice, he rarely gets to take the day off. even after scouring the pages of the fontainian law books, he finds nothing that allows him to take parental leave because his child is sick... because you're a stay at home parent.

(therefore, the responsibility falls onto you to take care of the little ones, as much as neuvillette would like to share it with you.)

early in the morning, you feel some sort of movement within your bed... you sleepily turn to look at neuvillette getting up and walking to your littlest's room.

"it's alright, ma trésor... papa's here." you can hear him attempting to soothe little puca.

puca's cries resound through the halls of the house, neuvillette's quiet shh-shhs soon following. it's not long til you hear the sobs that turn to whimpers, a sweet picture of puca laying her head on your husband's shoulder forming.

it doesn't get better when everyone is awake. iara, puca, and mela are all now down with the same cold puca cried her little lungs out for last night, and all three sweethearts sniffle at the dining table, hot soup freshly ladled out in front of them.

"papa, don't go! please?" iara cries, tugging on neuvillette's sleeve. justice has no time left to waste, and neither does your husband.

"i'm sorry, ma petit ange, but i have to go to work," neuvillette responds remorsefully, picking up iara and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"but i don't want you to go! stay home! i want to stay with you!" iara wails, burying her head in neuvillette's shoulder. he begins to bounce her gently on his hip.

"i'll see all of you tonight, ma chérie. alright? i'll come back early today."

at last, little iara's hands seem to finally let go of neuvillette's shirt, her sobs still wracking her frame.

"come here, sweet girl," you gently hug her from behind, gathering the little melusine in your arms. iara bursts into wails once she hugs you tightly, heart broken over feeling sick and having to say goodbye to papa.

you distract the children while neuvillette slips away to work, undetected. the rest of the day goes somewhat smoothly, with the older ones helping out around the house while the younger ones rest in bed.

by the time the clock says that papa was about to come home, all of the little melusines that lived in your household were all fast asleep, hands softly tucked under the covers.

"i'm home-" neuvillette walks in, setting his work bag down. why was it so quiet? a typical day included a chorus of "welcome home, papa!" and the pitter-pattering of melusine feet padding to the doorway.

"mon cœur! please, calme– i just got the bébés to take a nap," you shush him, cracking open the door to the melusine's room, just a touch.

neuvillette wants to laugh. never in his... centuries? eons? of life, did he ever think he would have evolved to be a man of domesticity.

i know nothing of french all of this was google

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @aqualesha (send ask to be added to taglist)

[worldlxvlys]

can you do more texts w toxic!gf!reader + chris? u write them so well 🫶🏻

texts w/ chris who has a toxic! gf (part 3)

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, chris is in a toxic relationship

INCOMING CALL: CHRIS <333

accept decline

“hello?” he answered, his voice cracking slightly.

“hey, you doing ok?” i asked.

“are you?” he asked, trying to shift the focus off of him.

“nice try, but i asked you first” i said.

he chuckled lightly at that, before answering, “i will be when you get here. just seeing that pretty face is enough to cheer me up”

my face broke into an embarrassingly wide grin, and i tried my best to regain my composure.

“good, cause according to find my friends, i’m a minute away”

“i think your phone is slow cause i see you” he spoke.

my eyes scanned the streets through the windshield, looking for the green fresh love crew neck he had on when i dropped him off.

finally spotting him, i drove to him and pulled over.

he hung up the phone as he opened the car door, climbing in.

without a word, chris leaned over the center console and pulled me into a hug.

i gently rubbed his back and pressed a light kiss to his neck.

he took a deep breath in, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck.

“i love you so much, chris” i whispered to him.

although he didn’t realize the deeper meaning behind the words, it still felt good to get it off of my chest.

“i love you too, ma. more than you know” he whispered into my neck, his breath tickling my skin.

“she’s a fucking idiot” i spoke as i pulled away, looking him in the eyes.

i brought my hand to his cheek, lightly rubbing it.

“she doesn’t deserve you, chris. i swear to god if i was her, i would never treat you like this” i glanced down at his lips quickly before letting them return back to his eyes.

“you deserve someone who cares about you. someone who’ll look out for you, and be there for you. someone-”

“like you?” he cut me off.

my breathing began to pick up as he stared into my eyes, both of us waiting for the other to make a move.

“chris” i whispered as he leaned in slightly, our noses touching.

suddenly, chris’s phone loudly rang out, signaling he was getting a call.

we both jumped away from each other in surprise, being caught off guard.

“shit” he breathed out, before answering his phone.

“layla? what the hell do you want?” he spoke.

i leaned back in my seat as he continued to talk to his girlfriend, and i attempted to collect myself.

hearing her name was a painful reminder of the reason why i’ve been shoving my feelings for him aside, he has a girlfriend.

i swallowed harshly, trying not to let my face reflect how hurtful the reminder was.

when he finished, he turned to face me.

“did she apologize?” i asked, already knowing the answer.

“no, she didn’t. she pretty much just told me i was overreacting and to come back” he spoke in an annoyed tone.

i rolled my eyes at this, “of course she did. she doesn’t care about anybody’s feelings but her own”

“she’s not always like this, you know? i think she’s just dealing with a lot right now” he spoke up.

“yeah, well, that doesn’t give her the right to take it out on you. and it’d be one thing if she apologized to you and took accountability, but she doesn’t even think she’s doing anything wrong”

he let out a heavy sigh, it was clear that he was overwhelmed. “i know”

“alright, it’s fine. let’s go do something to take your mind off of it. where are we going?” i asked as i buckled my seatbelt.

he followed suit, pulling his seatbelt on. “no clue, got any ideas?”

after thinking for a minute, i spoke “well, i know you’ve been wanting to do a picnic date for a while, whether you’ll admit it or not” he smiled at the thought of it. “and it’s pretty early in the day still”

he raised his brows at me, urging me to continue. “so, how about a picnic date with me?” his eyes widened.

“as friends of course!” i rushed out quickly, “since you…have a girlfriend” i awkwardly trailed off.

“yeah, sounds good” his smile faltered the slightest bit at the mention of her, but quickly grew again.

“aww, you do pay attention when i talk” he spoke.

“of course i do” i looked at him weirdly, before continuing. “looks like we’re getting some food” i grinned.

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[atokirina-writings]

“Omatikayaru tìhawnu sivi”- Protect the people.

sully family x reader

shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me the idea for this fic, i hope i did it justice :)

pairings: sully family x reader, neytiri x daughter!reader, jake sully x daughter! reader, neteyam x twinsister!reader etc.

notes: this is set during the events of avatar twow and I had sm fun writing this! this fic is 2k+ words so be prepared

synopsis: you’re the twin sister to neteyam. growing up you served as the families little bit of peace, even when quaritch threatens everything you know and love.

…Mìpa tìreyti, mìpa tìkanti. Lawnol a mì te’lan.

One of your earliest memories was your mother and father cradling you and your twin brother Neteyam, while your mother sings her songcord. Your mothers voice always had an affect on you from a young age.

“y/n, please stop fighting with your brother.” You always listened to what your mother had to say, even if it was a scolding. You loved your dad endlessly but you were a mama’s girl at heart, and everyone knew it.

She sees a lot of her late older sister in you. Your compassion for Pandora’s animal life, your strong will, and your love for the people.

“Ma' ite, she is beautiful.” Your grandmother constantly reminded your mother how happy she is that you’re her first grandchild. Your whole family adored you and that continued even into your teen years

“Ma sempul Lo’ak has done nothing wrong, let him be.” You never failed to stand up for your younger brother to your father, even when what he did was truly stupid. You never let your brother feel like he was not supported by you. Today however, was different.

When you got the message that Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider, and Tuk were at the old shack with sky people present, you felt could not defend him. He had put himself and your siblings in a dangerous position.

After rescuing your siblings from Quaritch and his people, you couldn’t help but to let your anger with your brother dissipate. Your gratefulness for their safety was a stronger feeling than your anger for them being in that situation in the first place.

꧁꧂

Later that night after finishing a conversation with a few of your friends you make your way back to your families tent. You catch your siblings seated outside of your home seemingly listening to someone’s conversation. “Guys what are you do-” Kiri sushes you, gesturing for you to sit down with them.

“I can not, you can not ask this. I can not leave my people, I will not!” Your ears perk up at the mention of leaving the people. ‘What’s going on?’ You wonder. Your father says something about him targeting your family. You immediately know who he’s referring to. “You can not ask this! The children everything they’ve ever known, the forest, this is our home!” Your mom bites back. Tuk winces upon hearing your mom yell at your dad. Placing a hand on her shoulder you nod at her, giving her a faint smile attempting to keep her grounded.

“My father gave me this bow as he lay dying. And he said ‘protect the people’ you’re Toruk Makto!” At this point you and your siblings are all on edge, as you begin to understand what your dad is insisting. Tuk wraps herself in your embrace as you attempt to soothe her irregular breathing. Kiri has a hand over her mouth as she lets out quiet sobs. Your brothers have serious faces on with saddened eyes.

“But I know one thing, wherever we go this family is our fortress.” You and your siblings make eye contact sharing a knowing look. Your father has never given your family any reason not to trust him, this is no different.

꧁꧂

Turning back you’re met with the forest, your people, and your home getting smaller and smaller as you ride off with your family to a new region of Pandora.

You learned how to hunt there, you bonded with your Ikran there, you attended Tsahìk lessons with your grandmother there. The forest is your home and your life’s first love. Nowhere could ever replace it.

Although if this is truly the best choice for the safety of your family, you’re willing to go as far as it takes.

꧁꧂

Arriving at Awa'atlu, everything felt wrong. You felt outcast for the first time in your life. You and your siblings immediately being subject to the bullying of the Olo'eyktan’s son Ao’nung and his friends didn’t help the feeling either.

“Leave us alone!” Your ears perk up, your head swiftly turning to where you’re hearing the commotion. Your eyes land on the sight of Lo’ak and Kiri being harassed by Ao’nung and his friends. Making eye contact with Neteyam you both make your way over to your younger siblings.

Roughly shoving Ao’nung away from your brother and giving him a deadly stare, your eyes narrowing at him. “You heard what she said, leave them alone.” Neteyam demands. One of his friends attempts to talk back to him and before you can respond to him Ao’nung raises his hand infront of is body, silencing him. “Back off now!” You hiss tilting your head, daring him to say anything back. Ao’nung then raises his hands in surrender. “Smart choice, and from now on I need you to respect my siblings.” Checking to make sure all of you are ok you begin to retreat back to your marui pod.

Walking away they begin to talk more shit under their breaths about your family. Lo’ak stops walking with us and turns back. Neteyam warns him to stop but Lo’ak dismisses him and continues to walk over to the group. Neteyam makes eye contact with you, clearly confused as the two of you watch the scene unfold.

Suddenly Lo’ak punches Ao’nung in the face twice, and he’s sent back by the blow into the sand. “It’s called a punch bitch!” They immediately gang up on your brother, he starts losing the fight and fast. “Teyam do something!” You whisper yell to your brother. He looks at you scratching his head contemplating getting into a fight for his little brother, ultimately deciding to jump in to help him.

꧁꧂

After all the fighting Lo’ak and Neteyam returned home all bruised up. Your father was not having it, ordering you all to go make peace with Ao’nung. Once your brothers left with defeated faces you stick behind to talk with your dad.

“Lo’ak was only defending Kiri, Sully’s stick together and that’s what he was doing. The execution wasn’t the best sure but he still stood up for her, don’t be so harsh.” He sends you a sympathetic smile and pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in his strong arms, and kissing the top of your head. “Alright babygirl.”

꧁꧂

The peace that was made between the two families was soon destroyed when Teyam comes in dragging Ao’nung by his arm “Tell them what you told me” Looking at your parents in confession you listen to what Aonung has to say.

The color drains from your face he reveals what has happened with your brother. Throughout the night you wondered where he had gone off to, figuring he was out doing his own thing with his new friend Tsireya you brushed it off.

When your little brother returned home you ran to him trapping him in a tight embrace, thanking Eywa for his safety. He relaxes in your embrace but quickly tenses back up at the sight of your enraged mother.

꧁꧂

The following weeks at Awa'atlu were rather peaceful for you. Lo’ak told you all about Payakan, the clan shamed him for it but you found it interesting and agreed with him that Payakan is a hero. So did little Tuk, she constantly asked him about his new found friend.

The Tulkun returned home, and you swear to Eywa it was the most beautiful sight. You got better and better at riding your ilu and holding you breath thanks to Tsireya’s lessons. Things for your family were starting to look up.

꧁꧂

You were cooking dinner with your parents when you got the news that started the spiral that sent everything downhill.

You and your mother were laughing at your father’s corny jokes, simply enjoying one another’s company when Tonowari walked past your marui pod, causing you all to fall silent. Your mom gave your dad a questioning look as he makes his way to Tonowari.

꧁꧂

Ronal’s spirit sister and her baby were killed by Quaritch. Noticing how your mom’s heart clinches at Ronal’s cries reminding her of when her own sister was taken by the sky people, you place a hand on her shoulder trying to soothe your mother.

When the clan gets word on what has happened, all hell breaks loose. Your father attempts to reason with them that attacking the sky people will end in defeat but they persist. “Please, listen to my father!” You beg the people to hear him out but their war cries only grow louder.

Your father shows off the tracker to clan, silencing them all. It is decided that the clan will warn the tulkun and tell them to leave. The clan thinks this is about the Tulkun but your family knows it’s really you being hunted.

Lo’ak runs off to the docks, Neteyam and you following after him knowing he’s going to warn Payakan. Lo’ak argues with Neteyam about him being the perfect son he’ll never be and it hurts your heart. He jumps into the water and takes off on his ilu. Neteyam and you yell his name in unison as you jump in after him, commanding your ilus to follow him.

꧁꧂

When you find Payakan, he has a tracker lodged in his arm. Using the strength of You, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Rotxo, Ao’nung, and Tsireya you manage to pull the tracker out. Successfully rescuing him.

In the process Kiri, Tuk, Lo’ak, and Tsireya are captured and bound the the ship. Your parents along with the metkiyna warriors arrive aiding in the fight, Payakan does too.

Dodging every bullet from underwater effortlessly, you make your way to the ship. Emerging from the water you run to Lo’ak cutting him loose while Neteyam frees Tuk and Tsireya.

“Did ya miss me little bro?” You tease. Rolling his eyes and shaking his bound wrist “Just hurry up!”

Cutting him loose “Cmon bro lets go.” Neteyam and you begin to exit the ship but Lo’ak turns back, taking a gun from a dead sky person.

“They have spider” Lo’ak begs you and Neteyam to save him. You know how much Spider means to him, they grew up together after all. Sharing a look with Neteyam he groans and reluctantly agrees.

Together You and your brothers take out every last human in the area seamlessly. Using your knife to puncture one of its oxygen mask while kicking the back side of their knee bringing them to the floor, slitting their throat. Successfully retrieving Spider you rest your hands on your knees trying to calm your uneven breathing, “Nice kill sis!” Lo’ak praises, hitting the back of his head in response annoyed by his joking in a serious situation.

“Guys go! go!” Neteyam shouts,redirecting your attention to the avatar shooting at the three of you. Once the four of you reach cover you take the gun out of Lo’ak’s possession, firing back at your attackers.

“Lo’ak jump go!” You order and be wastes no time jumping off of the ship into the water below, the other two boys following right behind him. You stay behind continuing to fire bullets at the group shooting at you, you’re out numbered now. Quickly reciting a prayer to Eywa you dive into the water.

When you emerge from under the water you gasp at the stinging sensation in your shoulder.

“Oh shit y/n.” Spider gasps and everyone’s attention is on you in an instant. You feel yourself being pulled onto an ilu as your eyes start to feel heavy. “Y/n hey, hey, stay awake ok?” Lo’ak pleads as he cradles you in his arms.

꧁꧂

“Watch her head! Watch her head” You hear someone frantically yell. You gather that you’re being pulled onto some form of land. Feeling strong hands grasp your shoulders examining your body, your eyes flutter open. “Babygirl? Hey sweetie keep your eyes open for me yeah?”

You feel heavy, your eyes are clouded with tears, everything hurts. As you blink in and out of consciousness you notice everyone is hovering around you in a circle, and a new figure emerges.

“Oh my sweet girl, Eywa please.” She begs “Momma i’m scared, I want- I want to go home.” You choke out, through the pain getting worse and worse by the second. “We’re going home baby, we’re going home.”

Your eyes unfocus from the world around you.

You can hear cries from over you but you no longer have the energy to inspect it.

꧁꧂

Your eyes open to Tsireya and Ronal kneeling over you. You groan at the light beaming painfully into your eyes. “She is awake, everyone she is awake!” Tsireya calls out and in an instant your family rushes in.

Your mother walks up to you falling to her knees at the sight of your hurting figure. “Thank you great mother, thank you.” Hot tears fall from her face onto your chest as she litters kisses on your forehead.

Looking to your other side you see your dad staring at you with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Dad it’s ok, i’m ok now.” You reassure. Your voice is hoarse and dry, from the lack of talking you’ve been doing.

“I’m just happy so you’re safe baby.” Your dad says sending you a close lipped smile. Using all the strength in your body you extend your arms out to your family, inviting them into all into a hug.

Your parents place their foreheads on yours, your brothers hold each of your hands, and your sisters rest their heads on each of your legs.

Melting into your family’s embrace, burning this moment into your memory.

Sully’s stick together.

tysm for reading! a like and reblog is deeply appreciated <3

Taglist: @multifandomgirllol @23victoria @avatar4eva @simp-erformarvelwomen @themysteriousslenderman @hannahboobanna @uglymammoth @onlytays @bvbblepopp @lets-candice @mrs-sullys-blog @ssc7514 @neteyamforlife @iloveavatar

[jyoongim]

I love your writing and i will readily sell you my soul for drunk Alastor crumbs like fluffy smutty platonic take your pick i just wanna see this man all flushed and drunk and maybe hiccup once please please please

this is the second request i got for this so i must give the people what they want!!!!!

This is super short I’m sorry

All fluffy

The low sounds of static greeted your ears as well as the sound of the lobby door closing.

You closed your book as your stood to watch Alastor sag against the door, sighing as his red eyes looked around. 

Your nose wrinkled at the smell of whiskey as he lazily approached you, arms wrapping around you. A soft smile on your lips as he buried his head in your shoulder.

Alastor was always touchy when he drunk enough. You thought it was adorable.

A drunk man don’t tell lies.

”Baabbyy” he purred in your ear, claws pawing at your hips.

Alastor had went out for the night. You hadn’t mind, knowing he was just going down to Mimzy’s club to have a little drink.

Alastor was the man you knew who could pound whiskey and still be a functioning person.

And now it seemed he wanted to pound you.

You walked him to your shared bedroom, ignoring his cute little attempts of flirting.

You slapped his hands as he tried to pull you into his lap, opting to help him undress. You mentally groaned at having to send the suit to the cleaners at the way it smelled. 

“In Hell’s name did you do all night Al?” You hissed, unbuttoning his shirt, unclicking his garters, and taking his shoes off.

He hummed, slow blinking as he watched you. A dopey smile on his face as you grumbled and nagged.

Alastor usually could hold his liquor pretty good. You dont know how much he had drank, but it must have been a awful lot as silly radio sounds and tracks played off record.

You sighed as you gestured for him to get under the covers, ignoring the lidded gaze that followed you as you waltzed around the room, conjuring a glass of water for when he would definitely be thirsty.

His shadow danced on the wall, a sad look on its silhouette as you shot it a glare when it tried to slither around you apologetically.

You were gonna give Alastor a mouthful when he sobered up, but you had to admit the Radio Demon was quite cute drunk.

Ears flat to his head and face flushed.

A hand wrapped around your wrist as you began to tuck him in, you looked up to see Alastor giving you a soft smile

”I love you know you ma cherie” he said, pouting as you laughed softly.

You pressed a kiss to his burning cheek

”Yea I know baby.”

He definitely wont remember this in the morning

[slttygeto]

MORE THAN THAT— LO’AK SULLY.

pairing: x fem! reader.

tags: childhood friends to lovers, a little bit of angst towards the middle, insecure lo’ak, reader is mad at him, lack of communication because i love pain, they’re both 18 during the second half! a little suggestive towards the end, this is a long one btw :].

word count: 7k (my longest fic!!!)

note: ive been writing this for about a month (on and off obviously) and i thought i might share it now that i finally decided where to end it (?), it’s not entirely proof-read, my amazing best friend @aurelianamu (check her neteyam piece its amazing) read some of it and told me what to fix, so the rest will be corrected along the way. thank you for reading!

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

You are ten when you first meet the Sully’s, family of Toruk and Palulukan Makto.

Being the newest friend of Kiri, the second oldest didn’t hesitate to introduce you to her family, proud of the fact that she managed to make a friend so easily. You were shy, closed off and unsure of how to behave in the presence of the man that your parents told you many stories about. Your little child brain was curious to know as to how he behaved with his family, if he would be nice to you or strict and harsh, even if he had no reason to show anything besides kindness to his daughter’s newest friend.

“She is the same age as Lo’ak,” Kiri exclaimed with lots of excitement, holding your hand tightly while standing in front of her parents.

“Is that so?” Kiri’s mother, Neytiri, spoke with a gentle tone, smile adorning her lips which was unusual since she always seemed to be sporting a serious look on her face around The People.

“Who is the same age as me?” A voice spoke from behind you and suddenly, you were very aware of the fact that Kiri had more siblings than you—in fact, you had none. So you jumped slightly, a little surprised by the proximity of the boy.

“(Name), my friend!” Kiri’s excitement while introducing you warmed your heart but it also made you hyperaware of the looks you were receiving even if they weren’t malicious.

“Your friend?” Lo’ak stated in question, eyes scanning your face before puffing his chest out proudly like a peacock. “I bet being my friend would be more fun!”

Now, you weren’t expecting that. Kiri let go of your hand to push her brother back, almost telling him off at his attempt at stealing you away from her and you could only watch in horror as the bickering turned into hair pulling.

“Hi, I’m Neteyam.” Neteyam’s voice was soft and gentle, very similar to his mother’s and it made you relax for a moment before you realized you had to introduce yourself as well. Yet before you could speak, he was cutting you off with a nod. “(Name), I heard Kiri introduce you.”

You nodded back at him, eyes falling on the scene unraveling before you; Lo’ak and Kiri being scolded heavily by Toruk Makto himself, his eyes warning them that if they tried to say one more word, they would get grounded for a whole month.

“Ma Jake, be nice. We have a guest.” Neytiri tried to console.

“Exactly, so they should learn how to behave,” Jake Sully grabbed his kids and made them stand in front of you. “It’s up to her if she wants to befriend either of you, okay?”

“But dad! I found her first!” Kiri’s bottom lip quivered and you stepped towards her with a look of concern.

“Kiri, you’re my friend.” Lo’ak huffed at this, head dramatically turning to the side making his hair move with him. “Lo’ak can also be my friend.” Said boy’s ears perked up at this, face slowly turning to face you while scanning for any possible clues that you were just kidding.

Jake smiled at this, hand resting on top of your head before ruffling your hair. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind befriending this knucklehead?”

“Knucklehead?” Your confusion only added to the fun of it and Jake chuckled before standing up straight.

“It means he needs someone to look out for him at all times.”

“Dad!” Lo’ak whined at the statement yet you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

“Friends look out for each other, right?” Your question earned a nod of approval from Toruk Makto and that was all you needed before stepping forward, firmly holding Lo’ak’s hand in your own.

“Lo’ak and I are friends then.” The youngest boy stared at you in awe, feeling the tips of his ears warm up at the sincerity of your voice.

“Friends.”

You are twelve when you learn what a pinky promise is.

You loved hanging out with Kiri, yet she and the rest of her family couldn’t deny the obvious chemistry between you and Lo’ak.

Despite the youngster’s stubborn personality and disobedient nature, he became more tolerable around you. That didn’t mean that he stopped from causing trouble, but he was seen around you sharing toys, passing you bits of food that was handed to him by his mother and even went as far as to to grab a giant leaf from a tree to cover you when you curled yourself into a ball to sleep.

The same could be said about you, yet your personality was never a problem in the first place. Kiri knew you as the kind hearted young na’vi that you presented yourself to be and you didn’t change around any of her family members. Although, she was able to notice the way you let things slide for the sake of being close to Lo’ak, such as letting him near your personal space, allowing him to touch your hair and look at the beads while proudly showing off your mother’s choice of colors and even letting him redo one of your braids as you two sat in silence.

Kiri wanted to feel jealous of this, she did befriend you first but she couldn’t help but let her heart feel at ease. Her brother and closest friend got along and it was worth more than anything in the world.

“Lo’ak, aren’t all sky people bad?” you were currently in the middle of your play session with the young na’vi, and the latter halted his actions at your words to stare at you with furrowed eyebrows. He noticed your stare, how it lingered on Spider, their human companion for as long as they could remember, before returning his eyes back on you.

“My dad was once a sky person, he isn’t bad at all.”

“Your dad is Toruk Makto!” you exclaimed almost in disbelief at the fact that Lo’ak was insinuating that you were even thinking of lumping his dad with those terrible people who had once destroyed your home.

“I’m just saying, if my dad is nice and he once was a sky person, then it means there’s a chance good sky people exist.” Lo’ak answered with a shrug. He trusted easily, that was something you envied him for. You couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling whenever you stared at Spider and a part of you felt bad that your brain didn’t allow you to relax in the presence of a boy who had done nothing to you, his only crime was to belong to a race that caused you great pain and suffering.

“It could be true…” Your friend was able to sense your anxiety just by looking at your body shrink in its spot, your arms hugging your knees closer to your chest before resting your head there. He might’ve not been the softest out of his siblings, but he knew that you needed comforting ; any kind that is.

“Hey listen,” Lo’ak put his toy down next to you before leaning down to your level with his pinky finger up. “I promise that I won’t ever let sky people do anything to you, okay? Pinky promise.”

Despite the feeling of warmth that you felt at his words, the obvious confusion on your face was a telltale sign that you didn’t know what a pinky promise was.

“Pinky… promise?” your voice came out soft, hesitant as you mirrored lo’ak’s actions and the moment he hooked both of your pinkies together, you felt your heart strings tug in your chest.

“Yes. A promise that is never meant to be broken.”

At your silence, Lo’ak realized that you had been staring at his hand. Hard.

Upon figuring out what was so fascinating about his hand that it silenced you, he immediately tried to pull it back on his lap, regretting a little the fact that he got too comfortable showing you his hand, his filthy demon hand.

“No,” you started with a stern look, grabbing his hand to pull back next to your face and held his pinky finger up with much concentration on your face.

“I don’t judge, I like your hands,” you hooked your pinky finger once again with his and Lo’ak wasn’t able to shake off the funny feeling in his chest, how his heart leapt as he nervously gulped down the lump in his throat.

“Pinky promise?” His voice came out as a whisper, almost in disbelief that you were accepting of who he was and who he came from. he did believe that his father was the exception to use as an example to justify good sky people existing.

“Pinky promise.”

Fourteen and fifteen were an easy age, you got along most of the time and everyone was scared when the both of you teamed up against them. Yet sixteen and seventeen had proven to you that you were both strong minded and that made you butt heads often, only in harmless ways.

You two are eighteen you realize that the bickering and butting heads was just a love language of yours, that your disagreements would never take away from how much you cared for each other.

“You have got to be one knucklehead to do something like that!” You hiss at the boy who could only stare back at you with an equally murderous glare, clearly disliking the vocabulary you were using.

“I am no knucklehead if I just wanted to have fun.” He hissed in return, and it quickly turned into a groan when your hands tugged harshly at the bandage circling his arm, sending him a warning that you weren’t going to let it slide easily just because he was wounded.

“Fun on the war zone? I didn’t know that playing with your life is the newest form of entertainment.” His family watched in absolute entertainment as you two bickered back and forth. The argument kept shifting from humorous to serious and they didn’t know where to stand.

On the outside, it seemed as though you disliked one another, yet this was just another day for the Sullys where you and Lo’ak bickered so much, they had to get you two separated to make it stop.

“Shit- stop! that hurts!” he almost wailed, leaning back against the tree when you applied the ointment to the cut on his face and given the expression of disapproval you had on yours, Lo’ak could only mutter under his breath as he fixed his posture.

“Man, am I not allowed to complain now?”

“Lo’ak,” you started, and he could immediately sense your change in demeanor by how visibly deflated you looked.

“I’m okay,” He cut you off with a firm stare, but his hand held a warmth to it, a gentle reminder that he could never be mean to you for a long time as he rested his palm on top of your hand. “Really, it was just one reckless moment that is all.”

“You’ve been saying this for— Eywa knows how long, Lo’ak, it’s serious. You need to watch out.”

“You don’t trust me?” With his tone, you could tell he was genuinely curious to know what you felt about him as a warrior and his heart was ready to shatter into pieces, waiting for the usual answer that was chanted like a mantra by his father.

“I mean, I’m not as strong or as cool as big brother Neteyam, but I can be helpful on the field and–“

“Lo’ak, I trust you.” You were never one to lie, especially not when you let your eyes fall on his. Flashing him a small smile, your fingers applied the ointment on the rest of the cuts on his face in a much more delicate manner, taking in how his tail was swaying from side to side at your comment.

“Someone is a little happy,” you teased, hands gathering all the medical stuff that his grandmother had given you to put them back in their spot.

“I will push you off my Ikran next time we go on a ride.” the glare on his face was playful and you couldn’t help but pat his head affectionately.

“I can always call for my own Ikran you idiot.” He wasn’t even able to push you away when you leaned down with your pinky up to his face.

“Pinky promise, by the way,”

“Pinky promise?” You didn’t let him stay confused for long before grabbing his wrist to intertwine your pinky fingers together.

“That I trust you. With all of my heart.” and with that, you took off with your tail swaying softly from side to side.

Lo’ak observed you for some time after you left, ignoring how his face still stung a little from you tending to his small wounds. Sighing in exhaustion, he ignored the looks he was getting from Kiri who sat only a couple of steps away from him.

“Shut up.” He turned his head away when he saw his sister approach him with a teasing grin, ready to tell her off for the umpteenth time the same week for teasing him about the usual topic.

“I haven’t even said anything,” Kiri plopped herself next to her brother, immediately taking notice of how Lo’ak was able to see you every move from his spot.

“I know what you will say and you’re wrong.”

“So you’re just going to keep denying the obvious heart eyes you have for my best friend?” The girl na’vi raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“I don’t have heart eyes for my best friend too, if you haven’t forgotten yet, I would never do anything to ruin the friendship.” To say that Lo’ak was an idiot was an understatement.

Kiri had told him that a crush would never ruin the friendship but Lo’ak saw it differently. You were a comfort he never thought he could have in a person beside family, a safe space for him to runaway to whenever things got too stressful with his father, Jake, and most importantly you were a best friend, a ride or die and someone who cared about him too much for him to risk watching everything fall apart.

His heart squeezed at the white lie he told his sister, another moment of denial where he forcefully swallowed down any possible trace of romantic feelings for his best friend and Kiri sighed in defeat, having already given up on the topic for the day.

“If you say so, don’t be disappointed if she finds someone else.” She stood up from her spot on the tree, looking down at her brother who visibly flinched at the mention of you possibly finding a mate, a lifelong partner and someone who would proudly show you off before Eywa.

“I would be happy for her,” Lo’ak almost bit his tongue at his attempt to fool his own heart, to halt it from hammering so strongly against his chest and stop himself from feeling so upset at the thought.

“Brother, you’re a fool.” Was all what Kiri said before walking away towards you and starting a casual conversation as usual, asking you if you wanted to go on a ride on your Ikrans after making sure every warrior was safe and taken care of.

And Lo’ak could only watch with a tight jaw, flexing his hand in an attempt to stop himself from possibly punching himself in the face.

Maybe Jake was right, he was a disappointment. Someone who isn’t even able to maintain a proper friendship without falling hard for his best friend, and the uncertainty of keeping things strictly platonic with you was eating him up alive. He hoped that Eywa would make his worries go away, and perhaps find a solution to the mess he had created inside his head.

Eywa didn’t take long before answering his prayers, but it came with a cost.

Longing stares and hours of talking to one another way past curfew after sneaking out turned into cold shoulders and short conversations. The effort was barely there and you could tell Lo’ak didn’t even want to acknowledge your existence whenever you came around and it hurt, it pained you that you didn’t even know what you had done wrong to suddenly lose a person whom you held so dear to your heart.

Your lip quivered as you stared at the plate of fruits you had freshly cut up for Lo’ak, tears threatening to spill from your eyes when you remember how he harshly rejected your offer at spending time together.

“I have a meeting with my father. Later.”

“But Lo’ak we haven’t–“

“Don’t be so clingy, I said later. Go find someone else to eat the fruits with.”

Clingy? Someone else?

You didn’t want to eat them with anyone beside him. Having him call you clingy when he used to get excited to spend time with you, saved you the last bits of his food and would talk your ear off about his schedule, it was all confusing. You didn’t know what you had done wrong and if you were even able to fix it given how it was painfully obvious that you were the source of the miscommunication going on.

It felt like Eywa wasn’t on your side the past few weeks, and your heart squeezed in disappointment at how your strong faith was being questioned by such tough times. You never doubted your deity, believed that everything happens for a reason but what could possibly come out of being so abruptly separated from Lo’ak?

You headed back to your hammock and set the plate aside to grab your pen and paper. When everything felt like it was falling apart, writing seemed to be the safest option. You found comfort in spilling your worries to a sheet of paper and weren’t ashamed of it, in fact, you were praised greatly for it by Kiri who had told you that her mother would’ve definitely developed an interest to you and your ways of distressing.

Oh Eywa has it been difficult to breathe as of late. Lo’ak hates me, that I am sure of. I have been nothing but a good friend to him and I’m confused and heartbroken, I don’t know what to do Eywa and I want to talk to him, to ask him what caused to hate me so strongly. Maybe it’s my strong love for him? Have I pushed it too far?

To be truthful, you had been in a state of denial for quite some time now. You were a friend to Lo’ak, a companion and a person who was always by his side but your heart craved more.

It was the way your heart leapt whenever Lo’ak came around, throbbing when he sat next to you, leaving no space between the both of you. How your body tensed when he would place his hands on your shoulders and he would stare at you with concerned eyes, wondering if he had smacked your skin a bit too hard.

But you knew it was wrong. It was unacceptable for you to feel this way for your best friend, even more horrible to crave him in ways only two people who are mated want one another.

You felt rustling behind you and jumped at the noise, head whipping back with fearful eyes only to relax once you realized that it was just Neteyam.

You had grown to enjoy the boy’s company over the years and he was nothing but nice to you. The two of you had short yet sweet conversations and you could tell that Neteyam saw you as a sister, someone who belonged in the family more than anyone else.

“Thought you had a meeting with Mr. Sully?” your voice was small as you scribbled on your paper, lips pressed in a thin line and posture slouched as you leaned against the tree.

“Fix your posture, you’ll feel like you’re eighty when you’re twenty.” Neteyam tried to brighten up the mood, only to realize that it poor timing since you only flashed him a weak smile before giving a half assed attempt at sitting up properly.

“So no meeting, he just didn’t want to see me?” The boy flinched at your words and he wished you didn’t notice, but you were smart and you had a sharp eye. Things like body language and little white lies didn’t go unnoticed by you and yet Neteyam was confused on how you weren’t able to see through Lo’ak’s poor attempt at pushing you away because of how much he wanted you.

“He’s an idiot, but I promise you that–“

“Don’t…Don’t promise me something that might not happen,” you cut him off with a sharp intake of breath, your chest tightening and tears threatening to spill at any moment. You were growing tired of everyone reassuring you with words, only for Lo’ak to shatter any hope you’ve had that you two would make up from the nonexistent fight that you had.

“He thinks what he’s doing is the right thing, but it isn’t,” The eldest of the Sullys took it upon himself to wipe your tears away, thumbs caressing your cheeks in a delicate manner. “He is an idiot, but I want you to know that it’s paining him just as much,“

You scoffed at the words but never pulled away from the boy’s touch. “It pains him just as much? He’s the one who started it.”

“I know but–“

“Teyam,” your hand wraps around his wrist, and you gently pull it away from your face before holding his hand in your own. “It’s alright, I know you want to defend your brother and you have every right to do so but he hurt me, he’s causing me so much pain from a situation he created,”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides, but I’m also not going to let my pain get invalidated. I’m the one hurting here because he woke up on the wrong side of his hammock three weeks ago and decided not to utter a single word my way ever since.”

Neteyam could only sigh at your words. You were right, the situation was much more complicated than a simple disagreement between you two. Had you known the full story behind what was going on inside Lo’ak’s brain, maybe then it would feel fair to tell you that the boy was also in pain.

“Just do what feels less painful to you.” As if that was going to be easy, but the more you interacted with Lo’ak, the tighter your chest felt. You needed a break from the boy even if you knew that seeing him was enough to reassure you that he was doing okay.

This was the longest Lo’ak had ever sulked in a corner and everyone was starting to grow tired of it.

The boy was almost lifeless, barely engaging in any conversation with his family members. He ignored Tuk’s nagging and consistent request to play with her, brushed off Neteyam’s suggestion to go on a ride with their Ikrans and wouldn’t even talk back to Kiri and Spider.

He was unrecognizable to say the least.

Neytiri nudged her husband with a concerned look on her face, eyes silently begging him to do something about the boy who went from being the loudest to the most reserved.

Jake could only awkwardly shuffle in his spot before coughing to catch his children’s attention. Talking to his sons wasn’t his virtue, it felt easier to console his little girls but given how strange Lo’ak had been acting, it was finally time to have a heart to heart with his son.

“Son, let’s ride our Ikrans after dinner.”

Lo’ak didn’t even raise his head at the sentence, simply thinking that Jake wasn’t referring to him. It wasn’t until the silence had felt too long that Jake called again, this time making sure that he heard him.

“Son? Lo’ak?” said boy raised his head with a perplexed look, and Jake noticed how his food was basically untouched.

“Yes sir?”

“We’re riding our Ikrans after dinner.” Jake repeated, setting his plate to the side before nodding at Neytiri as a way of thanking her for the food.

“We?” the boy looked at his brother, unsure if he was hearing his father correctly.

“You and I, son.” Lo’ak grew nervous at this. He and his father weren’t on best terms most of the time given how their personalities clashed with one another, but he thought that giving it a try wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Okay dad.”

After a poor attempt at finishing his food, Lo’ak finally decided to join his dad after hopping on his Ikran. He wasn’t entirely sure of what his father wanted to talk about but he hoped that it wouldn’t cause the two of them to start fighting as usual.

“You closed off on yourself,” Jake didn’t bother with trying to ease Lo’ak into the topic, he immediately pushed him inside. He could tell he caught his son off guard given the wide eyes and how his lips struggled to find the right words to say.

“And you’re not only hurting yourself but you’re also hurting people around you,” Jake wanted to see how far he could push his son before making him admit his obvious feelings for you, the one girl he and Neytiri were very sure that she was going to be their son’s future mate.

“I don’t have that many friends,” Lo’ak’s sarcasm could be sensed from miles away and Jake held back a sigh at how similar he and his son were. He hated that sometimes. seeing in his son a version of himself he was ready to bury.

“I’m glad that you’re acknowledging that (name) isn’t just a friend.” The eldest pushed his son a little further and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how nervous and awkward his son got.

“She is just a friend…”

“We’re definitely different when it comes to this,” Lo’ak raised his head at his father’s words, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I married your mom not long after I met her, didn’t have time for all this being in denial bullshit,”

“Mom wasn’t a childhood friend.”

“Yet I think if she was a childhood friend, it would’ve made me want to marry her even more.”

The beauty of growing up together, getting to tell the next generation that you’ve known who your soulmate was at a very young age is a privilege not a lot of people have, not when most Na’vi have their mates chosen for them. And Lo’ak was very much aware of that and yet he couldn’t help but think that no one would choose him, not when he was so… like himself.

“I just think…she can do better,” Sharing his biggest insecurity was challenging enough as it was, but doing so with his father felt rough on his heart strings. Lo’ak’s throat tightened up and suddenly he became hyperaware of his fast heartbeat and sweaty palms, wishing that he had chosen something else to say to save him from the discomfort he was feeling.

“Is that truly up to you to decide?” The boy blinked once then twice, trying to register the fact that pouring his heart out was easier than he anticipated. He couldn’t bring himself to formulate a sentence for a good ten seconds before he was looking away from Jake, the latter’s words finally getting to his head.

“Does it even matter if I let her decide?”

“Would you have wanted her to let you feel the same if roles were reversed?”

“Roles could never be reversed cause she isn’t a freak like me,” Lo’ak almost snapped back in response and he visibly tensed at how defensive he was getting.

“So you think she deserves better than some five fingered freak like yourself?” Jake was blunt as he responded, eyes boring into his son’s who could only nod in response, not catching onto the sarcasm lacing in his words.

“Seems like you don’t know her as well as you claim to do.” Jake dipped down with his Ikran and Lo’ak followed shortly after with his own companion, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the words coming out of his father’s mouth.

“Of course I do know her, she’s my best friend and I’m sure that she—“

“The reason why you like her so much is because she never cared about stuff like this. It’s been this way ever since you were a child, son.” Toruk Makto was now face to face with his son as their Ikrans came to a stop mid air. “For you to make her go through so much pain because you suddenly decided that she wanted to change her ways and morals is unfair in my opinion, both for her and yourself.”

“But to ruin the friendship—“

“Again, those are only assumptions you have made based off of pretty weak evidence—made up one since you didn’t even question her on whom has her attention or better yet, her heart.”

The picture was slowly coming together to Lo’ak now and the clearer it got, the more he realized just how badly he fucked up.

Three agonizing weeks of ignoring you, stopping himself from joining a conversation you were in and suspending any attempt you had thrown his way to hang out together, catch up and possibly ask him what was so wrong that he refused to talk to you.

Sure, it pained him so much but he knew how sensitive you were. In fact, he could tell from your big yellow eyes how deeply hurt you were everytime he rejected you, and Eywa, did it make his heart squeeze, almost shatter at the sight of tears brimming your vision.

Lo’ak knew he fucked up, and he could only pray to Eywa that he would be able to fix what could possibly cost him a friendship and perhaps his childhood sweetheart.

You had every right to be ignoring Lo’ak right now. That, he is totally aware of, and even knew that it was exactly what he deserved after ghosting you for no apparent reason.

But at this point, you were just torturing him.

Tonight, the Omaticaya decided that it was time to hold their weekly party at the end of the week, distressing and letting loose after a long week of hard work.

Those parties were fun, they were what everyone needed—what you needed most importantly and you weren’t going to deny it, you were looking forward to it even if it meant having to encounter Lo’ak since he was Toruk Makto’s son.

Things had started pretty well with everyone chatting and discussing thing such as how great of a leader Toruk Makto was, how they haven’t felt this safe in quite some time and that everything being under his control was something to be proud of as forest Na’vi.

And while Jake and Neytiri soaked in all the attention, the kids were doing their thing. Mostly chatting with their friends or in some cases, stalking some.

Lo’ak was aware of how creepy he looked just staring at you with an unwavering gaze but he was determined to have you lock eyes with him. If he wasn’t going to approach you, getting to see your eyes for the first time in a while would mean the world to him.

“You’re looking a bit menacing, brother.” Neteyam placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, staring in your direction as well with a small smile on his lips.

“Huh? Well, I guess it’s not menacing enough to have her look my way.” Lo’ak mumbled under his breath, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Neteyam who could only pat his shoulder before squeezing it.

“You don’t want to look menacing or creepy, you want to look apologetic.” Lo’ak glanced at Neteyam after hearing those words and he knew how right his brother was but how? how was he supposed to look more apologetic than he already feels?

“Just walk up to her and see what happens.” Yeah, easier said than done.

“I will tell you what will happen. I will go up there and make a fool of myself because one, I don’t really know what to tell her and two, she will ignore me either way and I absolutely deserve it after treating her like shit because of something she’s not even responsible of,”

Lo’ak was frustrated but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it or even let himself feel this frustration without guilt washing over him.

It must’ve been horrible for you. But enough of feeling bad for you, he knew that despite what could possibly happen, he still had to confront you one way or another.

“Good luck,” was all what Neteyam said before walking away to let his younger brother decide on what he was going to do.

Luck

“Shit, I’ll need plenty of that.” Lo’ak mumbled before heading towards you through the crowd.

You could see Lo’ak and Neteyam from the corner of your eyes, you weren’t blind or clueless. You knew the two were talking about you just based on their body language. How unsure Lo’ak seemed and how playful the older brother was being and despite the fact that you thought it was endearing, you were still very mad at Lo’ak, and rightfully so.

It took them a couple of minutes to finish their conversation before Lo’ak was walking towards you and in a state of panic, you let go of whatever was in your hand and started heading out of the crowd, to a more secluded area. Anything to get away from Lo’ak as soon as possible.

You didn’t dare to look back, footsteps fast and unfaltering as you walked deeper into the forest with Lo’ak right behind you. Maybe if you didn’t perceive him, he would magically disappear.

“If anything, you know I’m the fastest runner between you and I,” his voice was uncertain, as if he was testing waters while still half-chasing you and you completely ignored his words, very determined on getting him to get off your tail.

“Going deeper into the woods won’t make me lose sight of you,”

“Did your tail get prettier?” was he staring at your tail?

Lo’ak was taken aback when you abruptly came to a stop and whipped your head fast to look at him and he wishes he could take back every bad thing he’s done to you, he wishes he could undo the past few weeks but he can’t, and he certainly can’t erase the pain in your eyes, how utterly confused and broken you must be feeling now that he’s suddenly trying to talk to you again.

“Listen-“

“No, no- you will listen. Because clearly that’s not what you wanted to do for like a month.” Your index finger was almost in his face but he didn’t back away or flinch, he let you be as mad as you wanted to be.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve what you did to me. I was a good friend! I was patient and forgiving, I kept finding stupid excuses for your lame ass while you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were openly ignoring me for whatever reason!”

Lo’ak could tell you weren’t breathing properly while talking, and he wanted to hold your face and get you to calm down but touching you seemed off the table right now.

“And you come back and tell me my tail looks prettier?”

“I was just-“

“I’m still talking.” Your stern voice made him seal his lips shut, but he couldn’t help how his heart leapt a little in his chest. He had to fight the smile that was forming on his lips because he really didn’t want you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“I appreciate you telling me my tail looks prettier but that does not and will never compensate for how shitty you made me feel lately.” Your voice was less harsh and smaller. He could tell you were slowly letting the tough façade fall apart because you weren’t used to getting hurt this badly. It drained you so much having him hurt you like this, and it made Lo’ak drown deeper in the guilt.

“I know it won’t, but I promise it hurt me just as much.”

“Then why did you do it?” Eywa, he wishes he could tell you.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then we cant be friends again.” Your response was quick and dry. Lo’ak felt like he was quickly losing you the more he spoke and that absolutely terrified him.

“No, you don’t get it. If I tell you, I will lose you.”

“Is there anything to lose at this point?” Lo’ak was starting to realize how badly he fucked up the moment you said this.

“Wha- of course there is?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down at you and for the first time, you weren’t glaring at him. Your eyes were slowly filling up with tears, breathing getting quicker by the second.

Lo’ak reached his hands towards your face to test the waters and when you didn’t flinch or pull away, just kept your eyes locked with his, he knew just how badly you needed to be held.

“Oh I’m so terrible, aren’t I?” He almost cooed at you, hands holding your face with his thumbs caressing your cheeks and your little nod before blinking some tears away.

“So… so terrible.” you nuzzled against his hand, a hiccup escaping your lips as you held back a sob.

“Eywa,” Lo’ak whispered, stepping a little closer to you so he could rest his forehead against yours. “You mean so much to me and it’s… terrifying.”

Your confusion only pushed him to continue, his nose brushing against yours and suddenly you were aware of how close—how intimate the position you were in. But you didn’t mind, your heart was racing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away this time.

“If I mean so much to you, why hurt me?” your voice was small, almost too afraid to speak louder and ruin the moment.

“I thought hurting you would get you to hate me,” Lo’ak swallowed hard, eyes focused on your lips before staring right back at yours once again. “and you would realize that you deserve someone better than me.”

“And you think you have the right to choose for me?” your hands slowly moved up towards his shoulders and at first, he thought you were going to push him away. It wasn’t until he felt you press your body closer before wrapping your arms around his neck that he realized that you were doing the complete opposite.

“I chose you—Eywa chose you for me, and she is never wrong.” And you were right. As if your skin glowing in the dark wasn’t already beautiful, the forest decided to bless your moment even further.

Seeds of the sacred tree were floating all around you both, the pure spirits giving Lo’ak the reassurance and the tiny push he needed to finally close the distance between you two.

Your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush against yours, but you were growing impatient with the small amount of hesitance left in him.

“Promise me that you won’t hurt me again,” your words were hushed, breath quickening when you felt him pull you in closer by your hips.

“I promise.” the stars illuminated the sky and the night was threatening to get colder. But when Lo’ak was pulling you impossibly closer, your cheeks flushed with heat. His fingers traced the skin on your hipbone before digging in harshly, your sharp intake of breath making his eyes wander down to your lips once again.

“It’s unfair…“ your whisper caught him off guard and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they rose high when your hands slid down to caress his arms, gently moving towards his chest to rest your hands there. You looked up at him through your lashes, and if Lo’ak wasn’t aware of his feelings for you, he would think you were trying to make him fall deeper in love with every bit of you.

“What is unfair?”

“That you’re taking so long to kiss me,” your hands gently grabbed his face, holding his jaw to tilt his head down towards you. “I see you, Lo’ak.”

You didn’t need for him to say it in return—he wasn’t exactly able to with his lips pressed against yours in dizzying manner. You never thought you could grow more nervous around Lo’ak yet he seemed to have a knack for surprising you everytime, especially with his hands gripping the back of your thighs to pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I see—I see you too,” when he pulled away, panting from the kiss and eyes glazed with what appeared to be a mixture of lust and admiration, you could only squeeze your legs around his waist with a small smile.

“Already so out of breath?” your lips brushed against his nose in an endearing manner, fingers tracing his cheek to take in every little detail that made him who he is—yours.

“You dont know what you do to me,” he slowly backed you up against a tree, your cheeks flushing when you realized just how intimate the position you were in.

“Maybe I would like to find out,” Your teasing, your playful tone and your eyes that were clearly so lost in his, were constant reminders of how special he felt around you.

He, who had the honor of being your one and only, could only pray that Eywa approved of his love and devotion for you.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[verstappensrealwife]

Perks of The Job - Max Verstappen x Assistant!Reader

Fluff

approx. 1300 words

warnings: kissing! a slightly different writing approach! Not proof read- when is it ever?!

max verstappen masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

"First task...!" Max begins, but you quickly pick up the phone, assuming your role as his assistant. "Hello, Max Verstappen’s Assistant speaking—oh, what did you say your name was again?" you inquire, trying to catch the caller's name as Max urgently tries to signal you with frantic gestures.

"Charlotte Pendlebury," comes the response from the other end of the line.

Max's reaction intensifies, his gestures becoming more urgent as he tries to silently communicate something to you.

"I... Um, no, he’s not here at the moment. Can I take a message?" you respond, attempting to keep the conversation professional despite Max's silent panic.

Finally, as you finish jotting down the message on a nearby post-it note, Max settles into the chair opposite you with a relieved sigh.

“So… You ghosted her after you... um, had relations with her,” you remark, trying to make light of the situation.

"Okay, new clause in your contract: don't judge me," Max quips with a playful grin. "Just make sure she doesn’t find me."

-

Months pass, and on one alcohol-fueled evening, you find yourself drunkenly texting your ex—or at least, who you thought was your ex…

When your boss unexpectedly shows up, in your inebriated state, you can barely distinguish between him and your ex. Following him clumsily through the bar and outside to his car, you boldly suggest a rather inappropriate proposition to do while he drove, only to be met with a surprised yet amused refusal.

As you stumble into Max's apartment, your mind still foggy from the alcohol, you're taken aback by the cleanliness of the space. "You moved?" you blurt out, surprised by the tidiness of the bachelor pad.

Max turns to you, a bemused expression on his face. "Y/N, look at me and tell me my name," he says, his tone gentle but firm.

Your thoughts muddled, you start to respond automatically. "Ma– Oh! Max- Mr. Verstappen- I- Am so sorry," you stutter, finally realizing your mistake.

Max chuckles softly, his amusement evident as he guides you further into the apartment.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude, you mumble your thanks as you sink into the cushions. Max disappears briefly, returning with a glass of water and a concerned look.

"Here, drink this. You'll feel better in no time," he says, handing you the glass.

Taking a few sips, you feel a bit more coherent, though still mortified by your earlier behavior. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I don't know what came over me," you apologize, feeling the weight of your actions.

Max waves off your apology with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. We've all had our moments. Just focus on feeling better now," he reassures you, his kindness washing away some of your embarrassment.

Grateful for his understanding, you nod, silently vowing to be more careful with your alcohol intake in the future. With Max's support, you start to relax, the tension of the evening slowly dissipating as you settle into a comfortable silence together.

Feeling surprisingly refreshed considering the events of the previous night, you cautiously explore Max's apartment, your mild headache a small reminder of your intoxicated antics. As you rummage through his cupboards, searching for something to alleviate your thirst, Max's voice startles you from behind.

"You're awake!" he exclaims, catching you in the act of snooping through his belongings. His tone is light, lacking any hint of reproach.

Caught red-handed, you quickly straighten up, turning to face him with a sheepish grin. "Uh, yeah, just... looking for a mug," you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep into your cheeks. Max chuckles at your flustered state, gesturing towards the cupboard. "The mugs are on the right," he offers, his amusement evident.

You nod gratefully, relieved to have a legitimate reason for your nosiness. Retrieving a mug, you fill it with water from the tap, taking a long sip as you try to compose yourself.

"Thanks," you murmur, feeling a bit more at ease in Max's presence.

He smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No problem. Help yourself to anything you need," he says, gesturing around the apartment.

Feeling a sense of gratitude for his hospitality, you nod appreciatively. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Max's easygoing demeanor puts you at ease, allowing you to relax into the unexpected morning after.

As the morning progresses, you and Max find yourselves drawn into each other's company, the tension from the previous night giving way to a newfound sense of closeness. You chat effortlessly, sharing stories and laughter as the hours slip by unnoticed.

At some point, you realize how comfortable you feel in Max's presence, the awkwardness of your earlier interactions fading into the background. His easy smile and genuine interest in your conversation put you at ease, igniting a spark of attraction that you hadn't anticipated.

As you sit together on the couch, the air between you charged with a palpable energy, you feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. With each passing moment, the distance between you seems to shrink, until you're practically pressed against each other, the heat of his body warming your skin.

Caught in the moment, you find yourself drawn to him, your heart racing with anticipation. And then, as if guided by an invisible force, your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that has been brewing between you since the moment you met.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation, the world around you fading into insignificance. In that fleeting moment, there's only you and Max, bound together by a shared desire that transcends words.

When you finally pull away, breathless and exhilarated, you meet his gaze, finding a mixture of surprise and longing mirrored in his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" you blurt out, feeling a surge of panic and embarrassment flood through you. "That was stupid—unprofessional—I—I should go," you stammer, scrambling to your feet and making a hasty move to leave.

But before you can make your escape, Max is quick to catch you by the wrist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Did you not like it?" he asks, his voice soft but laced with uncertainty.

Your heart races as you meet his gaze, torn between the desire to stay and the fear of crossing a professional boundary. "It's definitely not that!" you insist, your words rushing out in a frantic tumble. "The kiss was—I mean—great but—"

"Then why can't I do it again, and again, and for the foreseeable?" Max interrupts, his tone earnest and determined.

You're taken aback by his boldness, the intensity of his gaze leaving you momentarily speechless. But deep down, you know that you can't deny the pull you feel towards him, the undeniable chemistry that crackles between you.

Slowly, hesitantly, you allow yourself to lean in, closing the distance between you until your lips meet once more in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, all doubts and reservations melt away, leaving only the two of you entangled in a whirlwind of emotion and desire.

And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you realize that sometimes, the most unexpected connections are also the most powerful—and that perhaps, this kiss is just the beginning of something extraordinary between you and Max.

El fin.

ITS SHORT I KNOW SUE ME IT WAS LAST MINUTE AND ITS 00:12

[amberpriesta]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom! chris x sub! fem reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: chris finds out y/n is going out on a date and decides to punish her

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: masturbation (fem), vibrator, edging, teasing, overstimulation, spanking, fingering

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 588

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first time writing smut, hope yall enjoy! 🤍

! 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 !

chris's gaze hitched over the short dress you were wearing, his eyes glazed with anger, staring at the black tight outfit. nick and matt went over to visit madi, leaving you and chris behind but you were soon to be gone.

"where are you going?", he questioned, voice laced with jealousy.

you found interest in the ground, muttering a simple "nothing", heading over to the door. your hands reached out for the phone in your pocket, realising that you must have left it on the dining table, so you walked over quickly.

"fuck nothing, you're going on a date?"

looking over at the boy, eyes lowered, you simply nodded your head, attempting to pull the phone from his veiny hand. chris tilted his head to the side, indicating for you to follow, your steps trailing his.

the door to his room shifted open slightly, bed unmade, clothes scattered around the floor. he handed you a small red vibrator, smirking at your confused face, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

he leant over to your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck, "put in your panties, take it out and you'll get punished".

you nodded your head quickly like a bullet from a gun, rapidly rushing out the door towards your dates car, apologising rushingly as the vibrations started on my core.

the restaurant came into view, salvatore's hand reaching over to mine, walking over to the diner. you took a seat at a table by the corner, the buzzing starting again, a slight whinper escaping your lips.

salvatore turned your way, looking at you in a way to see if you're okay, chuckling slightly. the vibrations leisurely started to increase, it's light buzzing fainting above the chatter, salvatore and your talk maintaining quietly.

"fuck", you lightly moaned, salvatore looking at you cluelessly, the levels increasing to its max limit.

once the food came, you excused yourself to the bathroom, pressing your head against the cold wall. vibrations of a phone rung in the background, chris's display flashing against the darkness, his name contiously showing up.

"hello, chris?", you answered, out of breath.

your fingers moved down to your lace panties, toying with them, pressing one against your throbbing clit. pulling out the vibrator, you thrusted your fingers in and out of yourself, head thrown back.

"touching yourself, ma?"

moans of his name fled past your lips, ricocheting off the walls, your high coming near. white liquid leaked down your hands and thighs, standing up slowly, wincing at the smallest of pains.

"chris, fuck", you whispered, out of breath, his chuckles in the background.

after coming out, you excused yourself of your date, making an excuse saying you felt sick. hurrying your goodbyes, you rushed home, mentioning many sorry's.

"you took it out", a hoarse voice boomed, chris's eyes laced with lust.

grabbing your legs, he pulled you over his shoulder, yanking up your dress. his hands caressed your ass, a sharp stinging pain coming into you as he hand came into contact. you whimpered when he threw you onto his bed, face down with your ass up, pink lace panties in view for him.

"count for me, mess it up we'll start again"

a hand came into contact with your ass, the pleasurable pain flooding inside your nerves, relieving yourself.

"one"

another slap, "two".

"three"

"f-four"

chris continued another four times, his mischievous smirk on his face as your body squirmed against his touch. after pulling down your dress, he ran both of you a bath and cuddled you to sleep.

[kumkissed]

Your writing>>> I love the way you write slightly subby aot men, can I pretty please get some for Ony and Connie?

Tysm baby! Ask n u shall receive, I'm writing this before I sleep so it won't be the best sorry! 🫂

Adventures w Ony n Connie!

c/w: creampie, slight sub ony, slight sub connie, slight dom reader, ain't proof read, made w my love n affection,, consumption of aphrodisiac, PRAISE HEAVY

Ony!

Ony's been beating your shit in from behind the past 20 minutes, your face being flush to the sheets muffles the moans you're letting out. "Ma, lemme hear you please" you roll your eyes biting your lip to further silence your moans making him frown and whine. He reaches down pulling you to his chest, hoping it gives him more access to hear how's pleasuring you.

In return he only receives light grunts and slight moans here and there “Fuck…you feel so good.” He moans in your ear, your pussy tightening at the sound making you no longer able to keep your moans to yourself. “You’re making me f-feel so good pa keep going.” Ony bites his lip at your praise, eyes almost rolling back at the sound of your voice “Only I can do this ma, O-only me.”

He hugs you even closer, going deeper than before and it has you seeing straight stars. He’s leaving you a babbling mess, and he can’t help but grunt and moan at the sounds you’re making. “You’re soooo good for me Ony” you practically scream out (neighbors will b at ur door in the AM), it’s then Ony stills letting out a feral growl as he cums deep inside you. He continues to thrust until he’s too overstimulated, opting to stay deep inside.

"Ima be good just for you Ma I swear."

Connie!

You can recall how many times you and Connie have came now, after eating that aphrodisiac chocolate your homegirl gave you, you just wanna eat Connie (and his cum)all up. And that's exactly what you do. Riding him like never before, both you and him are overstimulated but you can't get enough. "That's e-ennghough mamita m'k?" He practically begs you, tattooed hands attempting to move you off of him get slapped away. You tilt your head with a frown sticking your bottom lip out "But Con... you said you would fill me until m' satisfied!"

He's nothing but flustered at your reaction. Even when he tries to stop himself he finds himself thrusting up into you, knocking the air out of you and filling you up with his warm speed once more. "I'll give you whatever, j-just take it all." Brown eyes interlock with silver ones before you lean down, sucking a mark onto his neck causing his eyes to roll back; indirectly causing a particularly harsh thrust.

You moan in sync with your lover, feeling your walls get painted once more has you in a frenzy "fuucckk con you're the best" you moan into his neck as you cum on his dick. In a daze, you've stopped riding him but he hasn't stopped thrusting. Slowly, you push yourself off of him; seeing those silver eyes look like they're begging for your appreciation, your admiration. But he's so deep it's leaving you breathless, your only option being to rub your body against his own. Your boyfriend is a sucker for physical attention, the action has him thrusting even faster, cumming in you again. By the look on his face y'all gone be here a minute.

"Am I satisfying you mamita?"

[majornaxxx]

"You're mine you stupid slut."

ღ "Can you write a toxic baby daddy neteyam finding out reader went out flying with her boy bsf and he argues with her just to manhandle her and fuck her?" Req from @lowryv

ღ. I ENTIRELY FORGOT ABOUT THE BABY DADDY PART UNTIL I FINISHED WRITING IT I'M SO SORRY

But this has been the most fun (and most challenging to write) to date! I hope I did the prompt justice! (Please enjoy im sensitive (jk))

ღ Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, a little dubcon??, ooc Neteyam OOC NETEYAM OMG ,P in V, possessive Neteyam, Name calling @ reader (stupid, bitch, slut, ma,), Name calling @ Neteyam (Daddy), slapping, hair pulling, brief choking, rough blowwjobsss, reader no get to cum :(( (It made sense to me), mentions of Y/n

The view in front of you was beautiful, various shades of orange and pink, the night sky just slightly peeking out from above the clouds. You sailed through the air atop your Ikran, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush you were coming down from. An excited yip sounded behind you, and you turned to see a figure passing you. Large wings flapped gently as the creature dove down to land on a rocky ledge, the rider hopping off and turning towards you. He yelled something and waved his arms above his head in a "come here" motion. You obliged and began your descent, landing beside his Ikran.

When your feet touched the ground, he playfully punched your shoulder with a wide grin. "Y/n, that was incredible what you did!" Atu'ran exclaimed. "It was nothing!" A short-winded laugh left you as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. "Oh, nonsense!" His tail lashed behind him as he described your adventurous escapades from hours before. He excitedly chatted on, his arms and hands creating big gestures as he acted out the scenarios he narrated.

Atu'ran had been your best friend since childhood. Your parents had been best friends long before you were born, the relationship trickling down to the two of you. Today your friend had convinced you to go flying with him all afternoon. "Calm down, Atu'ran." You laughed as you stretched your arms and wrists, grunting at the soreness from holding the harness for hours. "Now, why should I?" He extended his arms above his head and slid down onto the ground with his legs crossed. "I can barely get you out anymore."

"Bullshit.." You'd learned the word from Neteyam, the unfamiliar human syllables rolling off your tongue. "What makes you think that?" His expression changed quickly, and he sheepishly ducked his head. "Well.." He started. "He's been taking up a lot of your time since the announcement that you are to be mated. In all honesty, it's begun to worry me."

For some reason, his statement irked you. "Spending time with my future mate is not a crime, Atu'ran." You said, turning back to your Ikran to fiddle with the harness. "Of course, but you two are attached at the hip. I worry you're, I don't know, losing yourself to him?" You sucked a sharp breath in through your nose and turned back to look at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"N-Nothing bad, of course!" He waved his hands in front of him as he looked up at you in an attempt to save his ass. "You're just- You've changed." He was not helping his case. You rested one hand on your Ikran and the other on your hip as you looked down at him. "Neteyam and I spend a perfectly normal amount of time together." Your eyes narrowed.

Atu'ran frowned and slowly stood up, standing an entire foot taller than you. "I just-" He hesitated. "I care about you, Y/n. I only wish for the best for you."

"Atu'ran-" Your voice cut off as the screech of an Ikran echoed around you. As the massive creature soared overhead, you instinctively shielded your face with your arm. The winged creature landed beside you, and the rider quickly dismounted. You barely had a moment to see who was coming towards you before they shoved Atu'ran to the ground. "Back the fuck off!" They barked.

Oh, Eywa. "Neteyam!" You flitted forward to grab onto his arm. "Leave him alone!" He paid you no mind and continued to reprimand your friend. Atu'ran shuffled his way back towards his now growling Ikran as Neteyam yelled. "Neteyam, we can talk about this-" Your future mate promptly cut him off. "If I catch you around Y/n again, I will hang you as an ornament in my hut!"

He suddenly stood on his feet, baring his teeth at the warrior across from him. "Over my dead body." His sudden boost of confidence was seemingly a death wish. "She is MY mate-" "and you have done nothing but puppet her to do whatever you desire." Atu'ran cut him off. It felt like forever as the two men stood, gaze locked on one another, expressions filled with hatred. Atu'rans gaze flicked towards you, silently posing the question, "Whose side were you on?"

"I-" Neteyam turned, his gaze boring into you. His eyes sent shivers down your spine, and you twiddled your thumbs as you lowered your head. "Atu'ran, he IS my mate.." Your friend scoffed, turning his head away. "I expected more from you, Y/n." He said, grabbing onto his Ikran harness and pulling himself onto the beast. "Wait! But-" "I'm done waiting." He scoffed, yipping and sending the Ikran flying into the distance.

After a moment of silence, Neteyam turned to you. "You were late." You could hear irritation in his voice. "W-We just went flying, 'Teyam!" Your voice cracked as you shrunk into yourself. "Just flying my ass." He hissed, snatching your wrist and pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want you around him, Y/n."

"He's my friend!" You exclaimed. His grip tightened around you at your words, causing you to suck a sharp breath through your teeth. "You're mine. Do I need to spell it out for you? You do what I say," His free hand slid into your hair, "When I say it." He suddenly gripped a chunk and pulled you closer to him. "Look at me, Bitch." The action caused you to cry out, eyes squeezing shut. His breath was warm against your face as he growled. "Now." He pulled harder.

Your eyes shot open to stare into his. "Stupid fucking girl.." He chuckled. He let go of your arm, running his fingertips down your sides and stopping at your hips. He suddenly brought his hand down on your ass, firmly grasping the flesh, causing you to gasp. Knees wobbled, and your bottom lip quivered as the action sent electricity between your legs. "Who do you belong to?" He sighed, ducking his head down to your neck and running his tongue across your collarbone.

Your attempt to pronounce his name failed as you trembled. He released your hair, running his hand down your back and stopping to untie your top. "Who do you belong to, Y/n?" He suddenly nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing you to yelp. "I- You! You, Neteyam!" Your hands flew forward to grab onto his shoulders. The loss of his warmth as he drew back caused you to whine, the noise cut off by a slap across your jaw. Before you could grab your face, you were turned around and bent over. Your arms bent behind your back, Neteyam held your wrists with one hand. "Who do you belong to, you stupid slut?!" He snarled, his free hand cracking down on your rear.

"You, Daddy!" You cried out as tears pricked at your eyes. He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he began to grind his hips into you. Somewhere along the way, his tewng had ended up by his feet, his bare erection rubbing against your ass. "You need a reminder, Ma. A good fucking reminder."

You shivered as he slipped your top off, reaching around to squeeze your breasts as he continued to grind against you. "Don't move your fucking arms." He demanded and promptly let go of your wrists. After a few moments, your uncomfortably wet tewng was slid down your legs, exposing your pussy to the evening air. You sighed, the noise cut short by a squeal as he slipped his cock between your thighs. You whined as he dragged his length overtop your clit, avoiding properly fucking you. He groaned, rolling his head back as he felt your warmth against his cock. "Fucking wet…" He moaned deeply. Suddenly, he pulled his hips away entirely, causing you to whine at the loss of friction between your thighs. "Nete-" You started, crying out when he suddenly thrust forward, filling you up entirely.

"Fuck!" You whined, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Neteyams hand found leverage in your hair once more, causing you to yelp as he began to fuck you. His free arm wrapped underneath you as he held you up and against him. Your legs trembled and shook as his cock hit deep inside of you.

His breathing was rackety and hot against your ear with every movement he made against you. Your hands scrambled to find something to grab onto, eventually grasping onto the arm he had put around you. "You wanted this right? You hung around Atu'ran all afternoon just because you wanted to be fucked?" Neteyam hissed. "N-No! 'Teyam, I didn't!" Your voice cracked as you spoke. "Don't lie to me, Y/n. You just wanted to get filled like a stupid fucking slut." Cries and whines escaped your lips with every thrust as he continued to accuse you. His hand released your hair as he wrapped it around the base of your throat. "Talk to me, Ma. Don't just sit there."

A sob escaped your throat as the tears that had been building up cascaded down your cheeks. "I swear! I didn't want Atu'ran!" Your nails dug into his skin as his cock continued to abuse your sopping cunt. "I don't believe you." The hand he had used to squeeze your throat ducked between your legs, his index and middle fingers making circular motions over your clit, the onslaught of new sensations making you quake.

"I guess I'll give you what you want, right? To be fucked stupid? Only Daddy will do it better than that cuck Atu'ran ever could." He snarled into your ear as he continued abusing your poor cunt. "Fuuuuck, you're so much better than Atu'ran, Daddy!" You slurred as your vision became blurry, eyes half-lidded.

"That's right, Ma.." He chuckled as he laid another slap across your ass. "You're mine." Your legs shook as you began to recognize you were close to cumming. Neteyam seemed to realize, his thrusts slowing down to a painfully mundane pace. "N-No! Daddy, please, please let me cum!" You began to whine as he took away your release. "Stupid girl, did you forget?" He slowly pulled his cock outside of the warmth of your pussy and groaned. "You don't cum until I cum."

Your wobbly knees caused you to topple onto the smooth stone, panting and shaking. Neteyam's name spilled from your mouth in mumbled gasps as the disappointment sunk in, knowing you wouldn't get to finish. You sat on your hands and knees as he let you go completely. Carefully observing, he walked to stand in front of you, slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Your head snapped upwards to look at him with teary eyes as he chuckled, sliding his hand under your chin to grasp your face.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, and you shivered as his touch sent butterflies to your stomach. "So fucking pretty when you listen to me." He purred before sliding his hand to the top of your head. "Listen to me, and you'll get to cum." He said as he stood. Neteyam wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before positioning himself in front of you. He tapped it against your lips a few times before you opened up in an "o" shape.

His grip suddenly grabbed a chunk of your hair as he pulled your head down. You let out a choked squawk as your hands flew up to grab onto his legs for leverage. Neteyam settled into a quick pace as he started to fuck your throat, grinning as you looked up at him with teary eyes. "Hows my cock taste, slut?" The taste of yourself on your tongue from your earlier activities sent warmth between your thighs as you continued to swallow him whole.

He laughed as you answered his question with a muffled "mmhmm..", obviously unable to properly answer due to your throat being stuffed full. He balled his hand into a fist in your hair and began to push your head to meet him in the middle, groaning and allowing his head to roll back. You picked your hand up to cup it between your legs and he yanked you backward, his palm striking across your cheek. "You don't fucking listen." He hissed and grabbed your head with both hands. His palms on either side of your head, he began to thrust into your mouth at a quick pace.

Finally, you were able to tear your head away, gasping for a breath. "'M sorry Daddy.. I'm so sorry Daddy.." You panted as you forced yourself to meet his eyes. "Stupid slut." He snatched you and began to manhandle you as he fucked your mouth, causing you to squeal. "Not getting away from me now, bitch." Neteyam growled.

Nails digging into his thighs, tears fell down your face as he filled your throat. "Drink every fucking drop for Daddy." He grinned as his thrusts became inconsistent, eventually stopping as he came. You let out a muffled hum, Neteyam pulling your mouth off of his cock with popping noise. "Swallow it." You nodded, coughing, but swallowing and opening your mouth to show him nonetheless.

"Good fucking Girl.." He exhaled through his nose with a groan. His hand slid underneath your chin to tilt your head upwards, wide teary eyes meeting his. "Bet you'd spit Atu'ran's out." He chuckled, your face turning pink suddenly remembering your scorned friend. "Stand up." He commanded, and you scrambled to do so, wobbling on your feet. "Get on your Ikran. We're going home." Neteyam reached down and tossed your clothing back at you.

"W-wait, what?" You stuttered. "What about-" "If i'm going to let you cum after what you did, it's going to be in MY bed, Y/n." He spun to look at you, deep eyes boring into you and sending shivers down to your pussy. "Yes Daddy-" You squealed as you began to frantically tie your tewng back on with shaking hands. Neteyam yipped, and the two Ikran who had previously flown off returned to land in front of you. His squawked, and Neteyam laughed with the large winged creature.

He pulled himself onto the back of the beast and turned to face you. "Be quick. I won't let you cum if you aren't back within the hour." The statement made you immediately turn to him to protest, "Wait! But I can't get there in ti-" "Within the hour, Y/n. Unless you want to get Atu'ran to take care of it? I'm sure he knows your body well." He remarked. "N-No! No, I'll be there!"

"An hour." He stated before taking off.

ღ

[readychilledwine]

hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍

I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️

No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙

Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold

Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.

Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)

A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜

Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.

Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."

Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.

"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.

He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.

"Were they even trying?"

Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."

The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."

The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"

The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."

Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"

Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."

You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.

Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.

"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"

"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.

Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."

You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."

"3," he whispered back.

6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.

"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."

You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"

"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"

Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."

You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.

Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.

"Az-"

"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."

You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.

The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.

It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.

Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.

"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"

"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."

The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.

Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.

Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."

Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."

Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."

You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.

"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"

"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.

*3 months later*

You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.

"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.

"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."

"You say that until they poop."

"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.

He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."

He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."

You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, y/n."