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chuluoyi · 5 months

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

Text

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck. “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life. “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate.

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked. “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face. “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said. “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one. “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.

“Hey, there the fuck you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself. His name was Eddie.

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour. There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face.

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. “I gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along.

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face.

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink. “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table.

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours. “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it.

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare.

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence.

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped. But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

----

Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

#Dirty Metal Summer #dirty dancing au #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things fic #Steve Harrington #robin buckley

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dreamywriter143 · 11 months

Text

Breathtaking

Status: Oneshot?

Parings: Neteyam x Human Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Mentions of Violence, Some blood, Jealousy.

Summary: Y/n grew up with Spider. She played with him, fought with him, ate with him and slept with him. There is nothing they couldn’t do together….well, one thing. And that is leaving the base at any costs. Now, what will happen when Y/n does leave the base? Why had she been trapped in the base for so long? And why did a certain Na’vi take her breath away?

Word Count: 6k (Uh.....sorry😭)

A/N: Ok, I said I’d have my followers special out by now but everything is all over the place. I’m sorry😭😭 This is my first xHumanReader so please enjoy! I’m so sorry for the delay!

———————————————————————

“Then this huge viperwolf jumped on me! I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes until Lo’ak saved my ass” Spider chuckles nervously at the memory.

Currently he is seated in the medical wing as his arm is getting patched up. The gash wasn't too big, but deep enough to sting in pain.

Y/n frowns at his words, being mindful not to apply too much pressure as she wrapped the gauze around the wound carefully across his bicep. Y/n bites her lips at the stinging pain of worry strikes through her.

“You should be more careful Spider. You cannot be reckless all the time, you cannot expect Lo’ak to always have your back either” Y/n says softly, her eyes wandering over the tiny scratches over his body in worry. Spider scoffs out loud, rolling his eyes at her words.

“You worry too much Y/n, You don't even know Lo’ak, we have each other's backs” Spider assures, making Y/n sigh out loud. She holds the urge to nudge against his wound out of spite.

“Because I don't know him”

For as long as Y/n had known she had always been in the cold confines of base camp, what she knew to be her home. The only thing she had known truthfully.

Y/n was born shortly after the war, her father was unknown, but her mother who was a well known medical officer of the team, sadly passed upon her birth. She grew up following Norm and Max around the lab, as they were the only people she felt any sort of connection to. They knew her mother well and raised her alongside Spider, who also couldn't be transported back to Earth due to being so young.

Though Spider was younger then her by a bit, Y/n always trailed behind him within the lab. She had no other females around her age, it was natural to grow incredibly close to Spider over the years.

“Well, you should. Next time I'll introduce you! He'd love you, come with me next time I go out” Spider says nonchalantly, not taking notice how Y/n’s shoulders slumped at his words.

“Ha Ha , very funny Spider” Y/n spits bitterly, tying up the bandage before turning around and leaving him for the tiny sink where she washed her hands begrudgingly.

“O-oh,shit, I'm sorry Y/n…I didn't mean to sound…it came out wrong..” Spider apologizes, hopping down from the medical table to walk up to her. Y/n focuses on scrubbing her hands so she couldn't focus on the sadness bubbling within her.

Y/n grew up alongside Spider, they ate together, played together and slept together while growing up. But Y/n…was different.

For as long as she could remember, she had never set one foot outside the compound. Y/n even had her quarters on the farside of the base, as if they didn't want her near the entrance at any costs. That's why when Spider would sneak into her room to accompany her, she felt less lonely.

Over the years Y/n grew but not as tall as Spider. Spider was a hunk compared to her much tinier and delicate figure. Y/n always worked out within the base to increase her strength and endurance but she gave that up years ago when she came to the conclusion she would never be able to see the world outside the cold gates.

Y/n always wondered why she was deprived of something Spider was allowed to do so freely, she would always boil with envy when she walked Spider as close to the gate as Norm would allow her.

Watching him run off to his freedom only made her mental resolve crumble that much more. It didn't help when Spider would go on and on about his adventures. Y/n would always aggressively chew her food to drown out his words during communal dinners.

Y/n had learned to tune out his words from time to time, but how can she when he was living what she dreamt about day in and day out?

When she questioned Norm and Max why she couldn't leave, they would claim it's because she is too delicate, that there are toxins and dangerous creatures out there her body could not handle and Spider could because he left the compound at such an early age.

Y/n chalked it up to something deeper they are not telling her, based on the constant blood tests and X-rays they conducted on her for ‘check ups’ when she never even stepped outside the facility.

She never did question them too much on the tests, why would she? They wanted what was best for her, and she had no place to argue. Maybe she was, as they claimed, ‘delicate’.

When they compared Y/n’s stature and physical maturity against Spider, they claimed it was for her safety that she didn't leave. That she wouldn’t be able to defend herself and that her body is more delicate than others. She was the only girl her age, the only young human girl in Pandora and they didn’t want to take a chance.

Y/n always kicked herself for being room ridden in her early years that led her to not get used to the outside world. Always drinking in logs of her mother and Grace Augustine. She also convinced Max if she could see Jake Sully’s logs, which she was grateful for. The current Olo’eyktan, was a human like her. And now he is living his truth amongst his people out there.

“It's fine, I'm not bothered by it anymore” Y/n says harshly, spinning around as Spider grabs her shoulders. He looks down at her apologetically.

“No, it's on me. I shouldn't even be telling you about my day when you….” he trails off frowning.

“No! No, it's fine Spider. I love listening to your adventures. Honestly. It's my form of entertainment and I love watching you happy” Y/n says smiling up at the taller boy.

Despite this Y/n always tried to stay positive, always helping around with research, helping maneuver samples and making sure the tanks are full for the exo packs they would take outside for excursions and for Spider’s constant usage. Y/n tried to be as helpful as possible, all to divert her attention from the void she felt deep within.

Her free time always consisted of watching logs, watching how her mother spoke about the Na’vi with excitement. Her mother had helped the clan recuperate after the war, helping alongside Mo’at with the injured. Y/n’s mother had even gotten close with Neytiri, the wife of Jake Sully. Her mother was also involved in Neytiri’s firstborn’s delivery.

Y/n watched in amazement everytime memorizing how her mother spoke fondly about the world, the beauty that basked her in awe all the time. Y/n couldn't help but desire that as well. Fantasize about going out, running across the forest floor with no limits or the chance of running into a cold wall. She craved freedom. Craved adventure. Something more. Something beyond her personal prison.

“Y/n! There you are!” Norm peeks into the medical wing, his hand gripping a tablet as he eyes Spiders wrapped arm in worry. Spider shows a thumbs up to clear his concern as he turns his attention back to Y/n.

“Can you double check on the exo-pack’s when you have time? The filters need to be cleaned and the power supply pack needs to be changed. Think you can do that for me?” He asks, offering a tiny pleading smile. Y/n forces down her pent up sadness and manages a tiny nod.

“Max told me to check them earlier. I just have a few left” She explains to which Norm sighs out in relief. “Good, did you fix pack #8? That one was almost busted the last time I saw it” Y/n waves him off, she wasn't in the mood to go back to recharding and cleaning the exo-packs, the very thing they needed to survive the outside world. The very thing she wishes she had the opportunity to use.

“Yes, no worries. I’ll get them done!” Y/n reassures as Norm nods once more before ducking down to head for the laboratory. Y/n sighs out once he is out of earshot. She turns to Spider who had been quite the entire time.

“Ok...wanna have dinner together?’ Spider asks, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. Y/n smiles at Spider, her dear friend she grew up to love and cherish as a brother.

“I’d love that, my room or yours?” Y/n asks, taking his larger hand into hers as she tugs him towards the kitchen.

“Yours, you have a more comfortable bed”

~~~~~~

“I’m off!” Spider calls out quickly grabbing an exo pack and securing it tightly against his face. Hearing his declaration and watching him walk towards the exit, Y/n scurries to his side, glancing at the watch on her wrist as she frowns deeply.

“Are you insane! It's already nightfall!!” She hisses. She rolls her eyes noting how Norm and Max didn't seem bothered by the fact that Spider wanted to go out again, and this late into the day, the sun had already set a while ago which meant the dangers of the night would be out on the prowl.

“So what? Kiri wanted to show me some cool bioluminescent plants. We can only see them when the sun has set anyways” Spider shrugs, tightening the pack against his back. Y/n bites her lips furiously, her nostrils flaring in a mix of anger and worry for the boy.

“Spider, seriously? It's only been 3 days, and your wound hasn't fully healed yet. What if you run into trouble?” She rants, trying to stand in Spider’s way crossing her arms in frustration. Spider sighs out loud, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“We won't be going too far out and I have this-” He gestures to the bow slung across his chest. Y/n raises an eyebrow, glancing at his injured arm as if to answer his statement . He playfully rolls his eyes, sidestepping her and quickly walking past her.

“I’ll be fine Y/n, quit worrying!” He calls back, walking towards the entrance with determination. Y/n sighs out realizing she wouldn't hear the end of it if she took another step closer to the entrance especially since Norm and Max were in her line of vision. She throws her hands up in annoyance, turning to Max who simply offers a tiny smile.

“Seriously? You're allowing this?” Y/n asks her cheeks flushed in worry.

At this point Y/n didn't know what egged her to react in such a way. Was it a worry for Spider’s safety? Was it anger towards the ‘adults’ in the lab that allowed him to venture out so late? Or the more likely option, was it jealousy? Jealous over the fact that Spider could go out, and she can't.

“Relax Y/n, it's not the end of the world. Let the boy live a little” Max says teasingly which caused the tiny girl to fume.

‘Then, why can I live a little?’

Hearing the entrance lock from a few feet behind her Y/n whips around to leave the lab, intending on going to her room to watch her mother logs. Watching her mothers calming logs always helped calm her down.

“Wait! Y/n?!” Norm calls from his seat, causing the girl to stop right outside the door. She glances back, her eyes cold and unwavering.

“Yes?” she asks in a monotone, not feeling in the mood to listen to what he had to say. “Did you check the exo-packs like I asked the other day?” He asks, not noting how Y/n looked ready to kill at this point.

“Of course, now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go to my room” Y/n easily lies before marching out of the lab. Max glances at Norm who had a questioning look on his face.

“The rebellious stage?” Norm asks, tapping his pen against his lips

“I'd say more like just fluctuating hormones?” Max offers, glancing back at where she had stormed off to.

“Thank god I don't have children of my own”

“Norm….Y/n and Spider are practically our children…”

~~~~~

“No”

Y/n’s hands scurry over the hanger, rechecking the packs in her arms, her heart beating a mile per minute.

“No, no no no, where are you?” Y/n whispers to herself, her eyes jumping around as if it would magically appear in front of her.

After gloating in her room for half an hour Y/n decided to finally finish up her duty to clean and recharge the exo packs. She had been rather lazy the past few days, lazy to the point she kept putting off the chore entirely.

The moment she arrived back to the lab it was empty, everyone must have left for their quarters or for dinner, a perfect time to quickly finish her work and be on her way to her room again. But unfortunately for her, life wasn't going to be that easy.

She remembered leaving a few packs to do later, but one was missing. The very same pack Norm had emphasized on, the defective and nearly beaten up exo pack. #8.

She looked around aimlessly, double checking the logbook to see if anyone had mistakenly taken the pack out. But she knew no one would be out this late. And if things couldn't get any worse, there were no loose packs lying around. No one would have mistakenly placed it anywhere. And the recycling system didn't have it either so no one decided on throwing out the defective pack.

Which only left one, bone chilling conclusion.

“Shit…Spider”

Y/n looks at the entrance a few feet away. Before the entrance seemed to shine, it seemed to always glow in her eyes. But right now, it looked menacing, scary even. It was the very same door Spider had run out of not too long ago, wearing the defective mask.

Y/n feels sweat drip down her forehead, her eyes widening in fear. Due to her laziness, her foolishness. Spider was going to die. And all because of her.

The exo packs would be good for a few hours even if they are near to running out of power, or even if the filter needed to be changed. But Y/n knew about that mask, #8 was defective. That mask should have been discarded weeks ago. And she knew Spider didn't have hours, he had minutes left.

“What have I done? '' Y/n shakily covers her mouth, covering up her sobs as she feels the weight of her mistake weigh down on her. She couldn't seem to form a coherent thought as she sobs out of sheer pain and guilt that shook her body.

Just as her sobs die down she glances at the entrance one more time, before mindlessly grabbing two exo packs. She slings one across her arms carefully while placing the other one over her face, securing the mask snugly and slinging her arms through the power pack. She held the extra pack close to her, taking tentative steps towards the entrance. The closer she got, the faster her heart rang against her chest.

She knew Norm and Max would be devastated if they found out Spider was in danger , or worse dead because of Y/n. And she couldn't, wouldn’t live with his blood on her hands. She nears the entrance, her hands shakily reaching out to firmly grasp the cold handle.

She didn't know how, she didn't know if she had the ability. But she would rather die trying than sit in the lab waiting for the inevitable.

She was determined to find Spider. Wherever he may be.

Glancing back at the empty lab once more she turns her exo pack on, taking in a deep breath. The hum of the power supply working flawlessly vibrates against her back comfortably.

Locking the airlock she opens the door, shutting it behind her with force as she runs into the unknown forest ahead.

Not sparing a glance back at her so-called; prison.

~~~~~~~~

Y/n had been wandering around aimlessly as her feet carried her deeper and deeper into the forest. She didn't have the time to bask in the beauty of the forest she had desired for long as her worry and fear for Spider clouded her vision.

Her eyes darted around, the bioluminescent plants aiding her in her quest through the dense forest filled with twigs and foliage that crushed under her hurried steps.

“S-shit”

Y/n comes to a stop in a clearing, resting her hand against the tree beside her to catch her breath. She had never run so far, and for such a long duration in her entire life. She felt her legs tremble under form as if it couldn't hold her upper body weight any longer. Her breaths came out in gasps occasionally fogging up her face plate.

At the rate she was going she didn't know if she had a chance to even find Spider. Feeling all the adrenaline drain from her body, she slumps against the large tree, sliding down to sit on the cold forest floor beneath. Her eyes trail over the beauty as she tries to regulate her breathing, her eyes glimmering with mild excitement.

For a moment, she forgot that Spider was in danger.

For a moment, she felt like she was dreaming.

Her fingers clutch the leaves underneath her, they felt so soft yet rough at the same time, her eyes catching the various plants that glow and glimmer in the dead of the night. It was an indescribable beauty. Y/n found herself realizing her mother had not done justice when describing the beauty of Pandora in her logs.

Pandora was not simply beautiful; It was breathtaking.

Y/n smiles softly to herself, her eyes taking in the beauty of the night. She couldn't imagine how it would look during the day. What she would do to stay out and wait it out till day break.

Her thoughts are cut short when she notices a small glittering thing float down to her from high above the treeline. She watches curiously, her legs regaining some strength as she shakily stands up, her grip on the extra exo pack for Spider secure. She stands to her full fight as if to meet the floating object halfway.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips as realizes the beautiful being was floating down to her, her face flashing with recognition. The seed came mere inches away from her face.

Y/n shakily lifts her free arm towards it, facing her palm up. Staying perfectly still. The pure spirit hoes on to land on her palm swiftly, as if it intended on landing on her hand in the first place. Y/n giggles softly feeling the tiny tendrils tickle against her bare skin.

“You're a Atokirina” (Woodsprite) Y/n whispers out quietly, as if weary of scaring the delicate being. She watches how the seed stays on her hand, fluttering occasionally but staying put. What a beautiful sight, she felt her heart soar.

Y/n had learned a lot through her many ‘lessons’, from Norm and the logs. About the importance of a woodsprite and its meaning. She had also learned they were pure spirits and considered scared. Y/n bites her lips softly as a thought crosses her mind. Taking a moment to contemplate her question she takes a deep breath.

“I've lost a dear friend of mine…Spider, will you help me find him?” Y/n whispers, feeling silly for asking a favor out loud. She watches how the seed flutters at her request, floating up at her words. Taking this as a sign, Y/n pushes her wobbly legs to follow the floating woodsprite across the clearing and near a patch of bushes.

She comes to a halt noticing how the woodsprite started to float upwards, floating further and further away. She tilts her head in question. Did it want her to continue on straight? Straight through and deeper into the forest?

Y/n glances back at the bush in front of her, her eyes catch the slight movement between the leaves. Her heart jumps at the movement. Was it Spider? Was he in the bushes?

Feeling like she had no other option she slowly comes closer towards the bush, watching the rustling increase the closer it got. She couldn’t help but feel fear ping inside of her as she came closer, her feet practically tip toeing against the forest floor.

‘If it was Spider, why hasn't he come out yet?’

Gulping loudly she reaches out her free hand to move the leaves for a better view but within a blink of eye she is harshly pushed down to the ground.

The extra pack flies away at the impact of her landing harshly against the forest floor, her back pressed down by a heavy weight. The deep growl makes Y/n’s blood run cold.

Her eyes widen in unbridled fear as she stares into the eyes of an angry viperwolf. Out of fear she trashes against the beast, screaming in fear which only agitated the creature who snaps its fangs at her.

Tears pool along her irises as her body gives in, to warn out to fully fight back. She feels the creature get closer to her face, the warning growls disappearing as its eyes square down into her smaller form.

She scrunched her eyes shut, waiting for it all to end in a second.

Spider was right, your life does flash before your eyes. And all Y/n saw was her sad self, staring at her own reflection with no purpose. An empty shell of herself. No goals, no ambitions. Nothing. All because she was denied such freedom.

Y/n feels her body relax. Maybe this was what she needed? Maybe this was meant to be?

She silently prays when all of the sudden the weight is lifted off of her.

Her eyes snapped open as she scurried to sit up. Y/n eyes widen in shock, her jaw going slacked as she watches the viperwolf snap defensively against her saviour.

She drinks in the sight of a Na’vi male, and not just any male. A really tall Navi, his broad back facing her as he wrestled against the viperwolf. She catches a glint of a knife that was lodged into the creature as it whines in pain.

Y/n had never seen a Na’vi up close before, sure she had scanned over files and pictures. She even got to interact with some of the avatars. But this. This was new. This was a true Na’vi. And he had saved her.

Y/n crawls over to the abandoned exo pack that had gone flying when she was thrown to the ground, making sure it wasn't damaged as she looks it over. Sighing in relief, she glances over at the Na’vi as he looms over the now dead viperwolf, whispering something in their native language as he pulls out the knife. Cleaning it if it’s blood.

“T-thank you”

Y/n whispers, taking tiny straps to get a bit closer to the now crouched male. At the sound of her voice he visually stiffens, his grip on the knife tightening as he sheaths back into its casing across his belt

Not receiving a response Y/n clears her throat, she wanted to wipe her face of the tears that had slipped past her eyes at her near death experience. But the mask proved to be a barrier at the moment.

“Thank you for saving me” Y/n tries again. This time she takes a cautious step back when the male whips around, standing up immediately to his full height towering over her. Y/n craned her neck to get a glimpse of his face, her breath hitched upon taking in his features.

He must have been the most beautiful, handsome Na’vi Y/n had ever seen. The markings and stripes along his face displayed beautifully, his yellow eyes shining bright as they pierced into her soul, his locks braided neatly and laying past his shoulders. Decorated with beads and pearls.

And his lips, so nicely shaped and perfect, Y/n found herself getting lost in them. But from the looks of it, he wasn’t smiling at her. No. He was frowning, his eyes burning with what looked to be anger.

“Thank??” He growls slowly, pointing his index finger towards Y/n in accusation. His English accent thick.

“You thank?? For this?!” He hisses, his ears flattened against his head. Y/n flinches at his tone, looking over at the viperwolf that attacked her earlier. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she realized he had killed a creature, a native creature for her.

“I’m sorry…I-”

Y/n looks back at the handsome stranger, noting how his shoulders relax a bit at her apology.

(A/N: The rest of the dialogue is in Navi)

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way. Create a…conflict” Y/n says in Na’vi. Though it was broken and missing some words, the male seems to relax fully once she speaks to him his mother tongue.

Once she had grown interested in the Na’vi culture Y/n had made Norm’s life a living hell until he taught her how to speak. She could understand almost everything after many years of practice, it was her speaking that needed improvement,

“Why did you save me?” She asks, her voice shaky from the event that had unfolded. The male grunts at her question, choosing to look anywhere else but her. His tail twitches under her stare.

“Because Ewya seems to have chosen you…for what. I don’t know” he explained. Y/n eyes widen at his words. Had he been watching her the entire time? From the moment she walked into the clearing? And she hasn't known of his presence? He must be a warrior, judging by his stature, his precision and skills.

“I’m truly sorry, it was foolish of me to provoke him…” She wipers apologetically. The male's eyes twitch upwards, taking in her world.

The male shuffles a little, the storm behind his eyes seems to calm down at her words. He seems to contemplate something before looking over to her, his expression much more relaxed than before but still hard.

“Where are you from?” he demands, but much softer than before. He looked stiff, ready to defend himself if need be, but the original hostility had dispersed once he saw the sincerity behind her apology,

“I-I’m from the base camp, a good way away from here. I work with…Norm and Max?” Y/n explains, peering up at the giant. Y/n thought it best she use the names of her guardians who she knew were known amongst the Omatikaya. She used their names hoping for the male to calm down, and luckily it worked perfectly,

The male's tail twitches at the names mentioned, a flash of recognition crossing his face. He lets out a grunt as he glances around the clearing.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone tawtute. I will escort you back so you may not cause anymore trouble. Is that clear?” (Human) The male says sternly, his eyes completely calm but filled with authority. Not waiting for her response he turns his back on her, taking two strides waiting for her to follow him.

Y/n thought he was around her age, but his tone and choice of words, how he held himself made him seem older. That, or he was that of nobility.

“I can’t!” She quickly objects.

The male halts his steps, peering over his shoulder with an unamused look on his face. He sighs out,

“Why not tawtute. Do you want to die? It’s dangerous and you have nothing to defend yourself,” he warns.

“My friend….My friend is in danger, I’m looking for him” Y/n holds the extra pack up as his eyes trace over the human invention. His nose slightly scrunches at the sight but he waits for her to further explain.

“He left with a defective exo pack, if I do not deliver this to him in time he will die.” She says stepping closer to him. The male stiffens at her close proximity, his heart rate quickens as his nostrils fill up with her scent, which he chooses to ignore.

“Another tawtute? In the forest? It’s really late in the night, he’s probably already dead” he states, his tone holding traces of sympathy.

Y/n eyes widen at his words. Had she truly been late, it’s true it’s been a while since he had left, the exo pack couldn’t have malfunctioned at any time. Was it all for nothing?

“N-no! I can’t let that happen. He’s alive, I feel it-” Y/n places her hand over her heart for emphasis. “Spider, he can-“

“Spider?!” The male jolts at the familiar name. His eyes light up on high alert causing Y/n to be taken aback.

“Y-yes, Spider! Do you know him!” She confirms, taking a step closer to the Na’vi. The male glances back at the exo pack one more time before offering his large hand out for her.

“Come”

~~~~~~~

The male Navi pulls Y/n along with him as she walks quickly through the forest. Y/n desperately tried to keep up, her lungs burning at the sensation of her rapid pace.

Y/n tried to get the male to give her some space, to let her run freely by his side as him pulling her seemed to pose a problem. But the only response she got were grunts of acknowledgement and nothing more,

“C-can we slow down?” Y/n asks, her chest heaving with every breath she tries to take. The male stops, turning towards her. His eyes burning with determination, his tail swishing behind me.

“You tawtute are slow, weak. If you don’t hurry we won’t find him” the male hisses. Y/n realizes this male must be one of Spider’s friends. He recognized him the moment she mentioned him, and the urgency in his actions proved he cared for him.

“I’ll try to keep up. Can I please walk on my own?” Y/n pleads, the arm that had been tugged at for the past few minutes throbbing with pain.

The male scoffs, the tiniest smile playing along his lips. “Fine, do what you want tawtute, but move with haste” the male turns around taking a few steps but much slower this time to accommodate her speed.

“I have a name!” Y/n huffs out.

“Oh? What might that be?” There is a small trace of amusement in his tone as he keeps walking forward. Y/n glances down at her footing. Being mindful where she placed her feet on the huge branch as she didn’t want to fall. It wasn't a big drop, but it was big enough to break a bone or two.

“Y/n. My name is Y/n” she wheezes out. The male hums at her response, satisfied that she answered to him so quickly,

“Y/n…Mhm…” the male says her name causing Y/n’s steps to falter. The way her name rolled off his tongue, so elegantly it seemed to cause her heart to skip a beat. The deep baritone voice only made him sound that much more….attractive.

“What's your-”

Y/n was so lost in her thoughts she misplaced her next step. Y/n screams in fear feeling her leg slip from under her, she is able to see how the male Na’vi whips around to the sound of her scream, rushing to catch her in time but to no avail. Y/n’s fingers slip past his by a few mere centimeters as she tumbled towards the forest floor. She landed with a huge thump, landing on her face.

“Y/n!”

Y/n groans in pain, struggling to sit back up. Luckily nothing felt broken, but her entire body screamed in protest as aches and pain took over her body. She held her breath to calm her racing heart. Just as Y/n tries to stand up, the male jumps down to her side. He crouches down to her level assessing her for any injuries with a worried look.

“Woah, that was a scare! Talk abou-hmpfhghaa?”

Y/n’s words get caught off as the males' large hands cover her mouth. Y/n eyes widen at the action, her face heating up at the feeling of his warm hand over her mouth. His hand was big enough to cover her entire face if he wanted to. But all she could focus on was the way his body heat radiated off of his soft hand.

‘He feels so warm…..wait…warm?’

Y/n feels her heart drop to her stomach realizing why she felt his hand press firmly against her mouth.

Her mask had broken clean off. Her face was fully bare.

If it weren't for his hand she would have inhaled the toxic air. Dying in an instant.

“Mhdgjpfff!”

The male's expression is filled with worry, his eyes dancing around for the extra pack she had with her for Spider. Unable to find it near them he growls in frustration. It might have slipped from Y/n’s fingers when she had fallen. Such luck.

“Can you hold your breath? Do you think you can hold your breath till the base Y/n? Forget Spider, let me carry you back to your base!” The male says urgently, his face showing emotions he didn’t show earlier. Y/n ignored how her heart rate accelerated at him saying her name so freely.

Her eyes mist over realizing this was the end. She shakes her head, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it, and with the extra pack not in sight it was as if she was meant to perish. Like everything that has happened today, happened for a reason.

The Na’vi shakes his head in denial, refusing to take no for an answer.

“No, there must be something. Another way” He glances at the sky, he would call his Ikran but the question still stands. Would she be able to hold her breath for that long?

Y/n smiles at the male, her tiny fingers reaching up to grab his hand, trying to tug his hand free from his hold. .

The male shakes his head, refusing to remove his hand. Y/n feels herself get light headed from the lack of oxygen. If this is what fate had in store for her, she was willing to allow it.

Noticing how her eyes got droopy, the male pulled Y/n into him, having her head rest against his free arm while she sat against his lap.

He looks down at her with sadness, his eyes staring into her e/c eyes realizing there was nothing he could do. He felt utterly useless.

Y/n nods assuringly as she is finally able to pull away his hand. The male closed his eyes, he didn’t want to watch her in physical pain in her last few moments. A shaky sigh escaped his lips. Y/n looks up at the star's above, her eyes closing to a shut.

Y/n thanks the gods above for letting her see the forest for the first time, and for meeting a Na’vi at the first try. In a way she got to experience everything she desired in the span of one day, and that made her happy.

She takes a deep breath and……

Nothing happens.

Her lungs fill in with the air around her as her eyes snap open. The male peeks his eyes open as well hearing her gasp in surprise, his widened as he watches her able to breathe the air around her. His air. The air that was supposed to be…toxic.

Y/n smiles wide, sitting up straighter. She can breathe fine, in fact the air seems lighter as it travels through her, better than oxygen! She could breathe Pandora air! Had the great mother spared her life?

“W-hat?!” Y/n sits up fully now, still within his grasp. The Na’vi’s eyes bore into her in shock and surprise as she wiggled what was left of her mask off her face. She adjusted her hair and moved it from face as she inhaled deeply.

“I…I’m not dead!” She declares, turning to fully to face the male. She squeaks in surprise when she realizes how close their faces were from one another as she is practically resting over his lap. She shyly looks into his eyes, him staring back at her in awe.

The male's eyes widen at her , fully taking in her beauty. He hadn't noticed her when he was blinded by anger, or when he began to worry over his friend Spider.

Now that he had her in his arms, he realized he didn’t want to let her go. He was able to see everything, and up close. The mask that seemed to hide her beauty finally gone, showing him what he had missed. What he had been blind to see before.

“W-what’s your name?” Y/n asks, beginning to shy away from his intense stare up close. Maybe she looked silly with her messy hair and puffy eyes?

The male breathes in, a genuine smile twitching along his lips.

“Neteyam,…my name is Neteyam”

And for the first time in forever, Neteyam felt completely breathless.

___________________________________

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think and if you'd like a Pt2?

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hairyjocktf · 15 days

Text

Spring Break

Noah was pissed. Today was supposed to be the beginning of the best spring break ever. He’d planned a week-long trip with his college friends to New York City. They’d had it all lined up- museums, restaurants, sightseeing, it was perfect. But about a week before, Noah’s mom had called and delivered devastating news. They were having a family reunion that week. In rural Florida. Attendance was not optional. She’d bought his ticket already and there was no way out.

The day had arrived, and he solemnly made his way to the airport and flew to Tallahassee. They were meeting at his relatives’ place in the Florida panhandle, in the middle of nowhere. He’d been once as a kid and vowed never to go back. After a two hour drive from the airport he made it, driving up a dirt driveway to the massive, yet ramshackle, house in the forest. The next hour was a blur of greeting extended family, most of whom he barely remembered since they tended to stay out here in the country. After that settled down his mom came up to him, clearly very excited about something.

“Noah! You’re not gonna believe this, but since it’ll be a few more days before everyone’s here, your cousins Chevy and Logan are gonna take you out on a hunting trip! Just for a couple days,” she was nearly bouncing off the ground.

Noah groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He had nothing in common with his cousins, and certainly did not want to spend time alone with them out in the swampy wilderness. His mom was not hearing any complaints from him though, and she dragged him out back to reacquaint him with his cousins. Chevy and Logan were chatting with each other on the patio, beers in hand, decked out in the camo hunting gear Noah assumed they lived and slept in. They were only a couple years older than Noah, but looked quite a bit older compared to the baby faced city boy.

“Ayyy Noah! What’s up, it’s been a while man,” Chevy walked over and gave him a bear hug, spilling some beer on his back.

“Hey Chevy, nice to see you too. I heard you guys were uh, taking me out camping,” Noah said unenthusiastically.

“Not just camping my guy!” Logan butted in, “We’re talking full on country backroads hunting boy’s trip! We’ll show you what you’re missing by being cooped up in the city.”

Noah’s heart sank; it was worse than he’d thought. They were gonna drag him out there and make him hunt? He didn’t like killing anything and worse, having to deal with the aftermath. He put on a forced grin since his mother was right there.

“Wow, that sounds real great guys, I can’t wait,” he said through gritted teeth. His subliminal messages to them were entirely lost.

“Hell yes bro! Here’s a pack with some of our extra hunting clothing, you won’t want a whole suitcase out there,” Chevy said, handing Noah a backpack. “We’ve got some extra gear that should fit you, it’s already in the truck. We’ll leave in 30 minutes, so get yourself ready.”

30 minutes?? That was immediate, he wouldn’t even have time to plead his case to get out of it. Begrudgingly he went back inside to get his stuff together. The next thing he knew, it was time. The boys were out front in their pickup truck, the back full of tents, camouflage gear, and who knows what else. Logan laid on the horn.

“NOAHHHHHH! It’s time to scram, let's get outta here!” Logan shouted over the blaring horn.

Noah groaned, this was setting the tone for the whole trip. He looked at himself in the mirror, the camo pants and hoodie just looked wrong on him. He for sure didn’t want his clothes getting covered in mud though, so he sucked it up and headed out front. Chevy grabbed his bag and tossed it in the back before climbing in shotgun, leaving Noah in the cramped back seats. And with that, they were off.

“There’s a real nice game area ‘bout an hour, hour and a half from here,” Logan said. “We’ll get in, set up a nice camp, then relax. Then at sunrise we’ll start you off with somethin easy, maybe a deer or boar,” he turned and looked at Noah, grinning.

Noah bounced around in the back of the truck as Logan drove through the forest on bumpy dirt roads. Chevy had put on some country music up front, and they were practically yelling to have a conversation over it. They tried talking to Noah about what he’d been up to, but Noah was sulking and gave only short answers. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky when they pulled off, offroading through some clear land towards a spot they’d clearly been to before. They stopped at a neat little clearing near a creek. It was objectively a beautiful little spot, but Noah was not in the mood to appreciate it, already swatting at mosquitoes swarming him.

“Alright man, you ever pitch a tent?” Chevy asked Noah.

“Uh, no, I haven’t”

“Well here, I’ll help ya out,” he said earnestly. “We’ve already got a well used spot here, so first we just lay out this footprint, and here let’s have you start with the poles.”

Noah fumbled around with the metal poles before eventually getting them together. He was frustrated, why would he ever need to know this? Chevy took the poles and got the tent up while Logan was still unloading the back of the truck.

“Alright we’re nearly done, just gotta secure it with these stakes,” he handed them to Noah. “Just stick these through the corner, make sure they’re deep in the ground now.”

Noah took the stakes and tried pushing them into the dirt, but they only made it about an inch in. He tried scraping the dirt away with his hands but that didn’t help. Chevy tapped his shoulder, holding a mallet as a suggestion. They’d just gotten here and already Noah was annoyed despite his cousin’s encouraging attitude. His hands were covered in dirt too, he hated being dirty! And he had no escape from all of it. He stormed off to the water’s edge in a huff while the other two finished putting their site together. The sun was really setting by then.

“Ey Noah!” Logan called, “Come have a beer with us man! We’ve got some chili cookin’ too, ya gotta eat somethin,” he laughed. Noah sighed. There was no point in sulking the entire trip like this, even if he wanted to. He walked back over and pulled a beer out of the cooler they’d brought and sat down.

“It seems his highness has decided to grace us with his presence,” Chevy mocked. Noah chuckled. He’d make it through this, even if it took all the beer in that cooler. The boys ate dinner and talked as the sun dipped below the horizon, with Noah actually giving some substantial answers this time. He was exhausted, having flown in and driven all day. He climbed into his tent to hit the sack. If he’d had a mirror in there, he would’ve noticed what looked like some dirt smeared on his face, just on his upper lip and the sides of his face by his ears.

Noah was abruptly awakened by Chevy shaking him. “Hey bro! It’s just starting to get light out, let’s get moving.” Noah groaned, it was his vacation and he was getting woken up at five something in the morning. He crawled out of his tent, banging his head on the pole; was it really that small last night? The boys were up and moving already, and Chevy handed Noah a granola bar to eat. “It’s a light breakfast I know, but we don’t wanna miss the prime time of the day,” he said softly.

Despite being exhausted, Noah’s annoyance was fading quickly. Maybe this would be a little bit of fun; at the very least it would be something different from normal. He scratched at his chin, his fingers brushing through the smallest bit of stubble that had sprouted overnight. Noah had never been able to grow facial hair, but for some reason this didn’t alarm him, it felt natural even. He put on his hat to hide his messy hair and began to chow down on that granola bar. As he did, that small amount of stubble began pushing out more, giving Noah a shadow across his jaw. It grew thicker, sticking out further until he had a rough, patchy beard. It made Noah look more natural in his hunting gear, aging him up just a hair. His clothes had also grown less baggy on him, attributing to an extra inch or two in height and some mass he’d never been able to pack on before.

Within a few minutes, they were off, trekking through the tall grass into the brush. Logan guided them to a denser pocket where they set up watch and waited for some wildlife to show up. Logan had told them he knew there were deer that tended to feed nearby, so they just had to be quiet and wait. The tension grew as time passed, and before he knew it, a buck had shown up in the clearing. Chevy had prepared him for this, and he took the shot. The deer went down, and Chevy and Logan cheered.

“Hell yes dude! Nice shot, especially for your first time,” Logan patted him on the back.

Chevy gripped him with joy, “It must be in your blood bro, you’re a natural.”

The adrenaline was coursing through Noah’s veins and to his surprise he was actually having a good time. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t wanted to spend time with his cousins, they were chill, and this was turning out to be better than being cooped up in the house. The three of them carried the animal back, working together to hoist several hundred pounds. The sun was fully up now and it was humid. Sweat ran down Noah’s back, and he could smell the putrid stench coming off Chevy in front of him. He didn’t mind though, after all, that’s what a working man smells like.

The sweat was clinging to Noah’s damp skin, beading on his forehead. As he slogged ahead, carrying this massive weight on his shoulders, his body began to adapt. His twig like arms expanded with new muscle, his thighs exploded with size, and his chest produced an impressive set of pecs before softening with a layer of fat. The sweat and smell really began to soak into his skin, and under his sopping shirt small brown hairs poked up around his nipples. Those soft, small hairs didn’t remain so for long, sprouting from his chest, covering the expanse in a curly rug that was slicked down with sweat. Noah’s stubble was not to be left out, pushing further out of his face. Hairs wriggled out in the gaps between old ones, leaving him with much better coverage on his cheeks. Around his chin it even started to fluff up a little, coarse hairs puffing out.

They finally made it back to their camp, dropping the load and slumping into the chairs they’d left around the fire pit.

“We’ll have to gut and clean that in a minute, but here champ,” Logan handed Noah a beer. It was cold, and exactly what Noah needed against the oppressive humidity. “Here’s to many more,” he toasted, before chugging his own down. Noah was finally able to take a breather, and thats when he noticed.

He STUNK.

He raised his arms back behind his head, airing them out. The sweat drenched pits aired their stench to the world, but to Noah, he just matched his cousins now. The exposed pits had a few hairs plastered to the skin. As he sipped the beer and relaxed, more wisps of hair shot out from his skin, growing thick and wiry. What started as a few extra hairs quickly blossomed into a thick forest of hairs, tangling together and poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt. The hairs itched as they grew in, prompting Noah to dig his fingers in there, scratching through the sweaty, smelly hairs. He didn’t question it, as far as he remembered he’d had hairy pits since middle school. The hairs spread out of his pits, connecting to the dense coating on his chest. The rug on his chest had started creeping upwards, reaching with thick tendrils of hair towards his burgeoning beard.

After a short reprieve Noah was back on his feet, jumping at the opportunity to learn from his cousins how to clean their kill. They were eager to teach him, to fold him into their ways. Noah’s distaste for his cousins, the country, hunting, all of it was evaporating. He felt like he had so much in common with them now, how had he never realized?

The rest of the day Chevy and Logan took Noah on a whole laundry list of activities they’d planned. Fishing, mudding, you name it. All hesitation had disappeared, Noah was in deep now. He kept drinking with the boys, not noticing that his gut was pushing tight against his shirt. In fact, his whole upper body was stretching out. His shoulders pushed out, growing broader. His frame was massive now, bigger than either of his cousins. He stood out on the edge of a pond in the harsh sunlight fishing, his shirt absolutely soaked with sweat that dribbled down his massive back. As it reached his waistband, it began fertilizing the growth of a new patch of hair right above his plump ass. The hairs sprung out of the wet skin, shooting up his spine in minutes. Before long the hairs had spread out across the wide expanse of his lats, pressing against the tight shirt. The fields of hair were thick, dense enough to darken the shade of his skin, and definitely didn’t help with the sweat situation. The hairs continued to spread, climbing over his round shoulders and down his arms, coating him with a wild fur that cemented his place out in the country. He was really starting to look like his cousins now, between his camo gear, hairy body, and beer gut.

When the three of them returned to camp that night, Noah was exhausted. He grabbed another can from the cooler and cracked it open. Putting up to his mouth, he tilted it a little too far, spilling foamy beer down his face and into his chest hair. He chuckled and half attempted to wipe the foam off. Where it sat in his beard, the hairs began to thicken and sprout. His mustache grew incredibly thick, making itself known above the rest of his scruff. His chest fur also took to the growth, turning into a real carpet that climbed up and out of his shirt collar. Noah let out a massive burp in response.

“Yo Chevy, we really gotta head back tomorrow? Shit rocks out here,” Noah said with a deeper voice than he’d ever had previously.

“Yea bro, Ma will skin us if we miss the reunion. But don’t worry man, I know you’ll be back out with us in no time,” he flashed a grin at Noah.

Noah went and dug through their bags, finding a lighter and pack of cigars. Now that the sun was going down, it was cool enough to enjoy being outside. He lit it up and took a hefty puff, his huge, hirsute body taking it in like a champ. Any thoughts about his old spring break, his old life, had been dragged through the mud and stamped out. All he wanted to do now was relax, listen to the sounds of the crickets, and spend time with his bros.

#male tf #hairy tf #bear tf #redneck tf #hair growth #hairy #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #beard #my writing

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stars4gojo · 8 months

Text

Used to it

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // young Megumi and Tsumiki // 947 words

Leaving home comes easy for Gojo except now he has three reasons to come back

More of my work 🤍

When you and Gojo first took tsumiki and Megumi in your house, many people told you how difficult raising two children was going to be. You remember Gojo dismissing them with the wave of his hand, even when your own mother freaked out at the thought of you two adopting children without getting married (she seemed to ignore the fact that you two were only 17) Gojo reassured her, saying how it couldn’t be so difficult and since he’s the strongest he would have no problems at all.

However, being the strongest doesn’t seem to matter at all in this house. Gojo, without question, was at the bottom of the food chain and the two children were alarmingly at the top of the household.

Your mothers fears were only confirmed when Megumi refused to eat any vegetables for the first six months of his stay and had thrown them directly at Gojo’s face MULTIPLE times so he just had to get used it, turning on his limitless everytime Megumi reached for the greens that were taunting him on his plate. Or that one time Tsumiki got stage fright during her ballet rehearsals so Gojo, a grown 190 cm tall man, wore a tutu, definitely too small on him and performed next to the little 9 year old girl, who would then take first place at the rehearsal only at the cost of getting dirty looks and hushed whispers from other parents. He had then begged you to take Tsumiki to her classes which you obviously refused as everytime Gojo would take her to her classes she had the expression of a 9 year old who just took over the whole world so he just got used to it.

But one thing, even after 2 whole years, he could not get used to was leaving for longer business trips. When it was just the two of you, he would begrudgingly leave with a reassuring kiss to your forehead, letting you know that he would return.

The first time he left for his business trip he didn’t expect the children to even bat an eye, but soon the day came and when he went to say goodbye to Tsumiki and Megumi they didn’t seem to have a reaction, too invested in the cartoon they were watching on their iPads that Gojo got them despite your efforts to stop him talking about the bad effects of screen-time that he chose to ignore so they wouldn’t bother you two during your alone time.

“Hey cmon now, at-least look at me when I’m saying goodbye you won’t be seeing me for a while now” Gojo said with a little smile tugging on his lips.

The two children went wide eyed as they turned towards Gojo, the realisation was almost comical and you stifled back a laugh. However, the laughter soon became shock as they both immediately became teary eyed and rushed to get off the couch and run towards Gojo.

Gojo was more taken aback at the sudden outburst of emotions from his normally moody children.

Gojo bent down to their eye level as they rushed to give him a hug.

“What’s wrong???” Gojo asked in slight surprise.

“Please don’t go” A muffled voice voice was heard that belonged to Tsumiki as her arms became tighter around his neck.

“We’ll be very nice please? Megumi will eat all his vegetables! Wont you Megumi?!” Tsumiki spoke fast as she nudged Megumi who was standing behind Tsumiki, observing the situation with tears forming.

Megumi nodded in response and Gojo only smiled in response.

“You guys..” he started off with a chuckle and you slightly hit him on his back so he could take them more seriously.

“You guys do know that I’ll be back in 2 days right? It’s just a short trip I need to make for work?” He spoke softly as Tsumiki let go of him.

Now you went to Megumi who was still at the verge of tears and picked him up so he could rest on your hip. You wiped his tears as he cuddled into your neck obviously embarrassed of his little outburst of emotions.

“Satoru is going on a business trip, he goes on them all the time and always comes back” you spoke with a little giggle as you watched Tsumikis sad expression turn into embarrassment.

“I’m glad to know I’m still wanted in this house” Gojo spoke as he got back on his feet.

“Now all of you come here so I can give you a little goodbye kiss” He added while making comical kissing sounds.

Megumi was quick to want to be put down and run away with Tsumiki as their little feet pattered across the apartment floor with little giggles. You watched as Gojo chased after them and grabbed them both in his arms in the same time to give them both a disgustingly kiss mixed with saliva.

“GROSSSS” the two kids shouted but you could tell there was no real bite to it.

“Now..” Gojo started with a sinister grin

“Oh no.” You thought.

“WE ATTACK NOW!!” Gojo shouted as all three of them ran towards you almost knocking you down as they attacked you with soft kisses in between laughter.

Now, Gojo could say in confidence, maybe there were sacrifices he had to make, some things he had to get used to. But, he wouldn’t change it for anything because Gojo Satoru was the strongest and being with the three of you only made him stronger, his motivation to fight and protect.

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kookieskookiejar · 8 months

Text

Alpha! Jeongguk x Omega! Reader

This is a part two of Don't Blame Me, but can be read as a standalone as well :))

Synopsis:

It's been two years since you've moved in with Jeongguk, and since then, the global tour your dance academy was on has since ended long ago, allowing you to have more time to spend with your boyfriend. However, Jeongguk still feels like the two of you have been going around in circles in terms of where your relationship is at. Should Jeongguk make a move to ask you about it? Or is he just being worried for no reason and should just let the relationship grow at its own pace?

Warnings: unprotected s*x, upcoming rut mating, marking, knotting, bre*ding k*nk, really fluffy.

A/N: sorry this took soooo long, mental health has not been looking good lately so...yeah, I hope you guys like this!

Everyday Jeongguk wakes up feeling like the luckiest man in the universe, he can’t believe it’s been two years since you’ve moved in with him.

Your job hasn’t gotten any less busy, and Jeongguk respects that, he’s gotten busier lately too, and recently he just wrapped up a long term project, and now they’re out to celebrate with his friends, and that consists of you, his sister, Jihyo, his Namjoon hyung, and his girlfriend of two years now, yes, the resident third wheeler of the friend group is finally dating, Jihyo’s still doesn’t want to settle down yet, and that’s perfectly fine, in Jeongguk’s opinion, she needs some growing up to do before she sends someone to therapy.

To put things in perspective, he feels like everyone around him, other than his sister, have started the next chapter of their lives, okay maybe that’s a stretch, he’s just feeling a bit stagnant with you after hearing Namjoon talk about how he and his girlfriend are planning on getting a matching couple tattoo after sealing their mating mark.

Is it considered quick to seal the mating mark after two years? Maybe, but they are planning to get married next year, so it wasn’t a hasty decision, Jihyo even chastised them for making the decision only after two years, to which she deemed, too impulsive, so maybe two years is seen as hasty in this time and age, but that doesn’t make Jeongguk feel all that much better about the pace between you and him, not that he’d ever voice that out, he knows you want to take things slowly, you’ve always been a build the foundation type of person.

However, you and Jeongguk have been dating for four years now, and you haven’t brought up about the mating marks before, you did talk about it briefly, but it wasn’t even a serious conversation, although you sounded very much sincere.

So now Jeongguk’s sulking in the pub where all his friends are laughing about something they’re reading on Jihyo’s phone, absently, a pout is on his lips, and his hyung notices it immediately, snapping Jeongguk’s attention away from staring at the rustic decor of the pub.

“Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you? You haven’t been talking all that much tonight,” Namjoon points out, his brows furrowed, he’s always seen Jeongguk as his little brother, brothers from a different mother.

“Nah, I’m okay, I was just spacing out,” Jeongguk dismisses, finishing his drink.

“We can leave if you want,” you say, immediately, preparing to get up from your seat, grabbing your purse.

“Yah, he said he’s gonna buy us drinks with his bonus, don’t you try skimming out on us,” Jihyo complains, arms crossed.

“He’s tired, Jihyo ah, I’ll buy you drinks next time okay,” you promise with that sweet voice you use to get things out of both the siblings, something that Jeongguk can never say no to, to which his sister sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“Be grateful she loves you, can’t believe my brother stole my best friend,” she says, obviously joking, and Jeongguk nods absentmindedly, letting you lead him out of the pub.

Jeongguk heads home to sleep off the fatigue, but it was probably due to his bad mood and the alcohol that made him sleepy.

When Jeongguk woke up the next morning, he was feeling hot, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him, it is summer after all, but what had him questioning was the fact that you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen instead of going for your morning run with Jihyo.

Jeongguk clambers out of bed, messy hair and everything, hurrying to wash up, eager to have your cooking as breakfast.

“Hey. you’re up earlier than expected,” you joke when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck, lips almost slobbering near where your mating mark should be.

“It’s 9.30, of course I’m up,” Jeongguk says with a whiny voice, you just love to tease him, says that he sounds and looks cute when you do, so he indulges you.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d be more tired when you’re near your rut.”

Jeongguk freezes up at your comment, he was so busy that he hadn’t even noticed his scent had some minor changes over time, and he doused himself in cologne last night, craving for the scent of fresh laundry over his natural scent, so that’s probably why his friends hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I know you’d tell me to sleepover at Jihyo’s,” you say, turning around to run your hands over Jeongguk’s arms comfortingly, the act so sweet, but it instantly has Jeongguk hard.

“But, we, what if I accidentally mark you? What if your heat gets triggered? Then we’d have to-

“Hey, I’m ready, and I’m ready to have our mating marks now, I think it’s time, if you think you’re ready,” you reassured, you know he’s wanted this for quite some time now, but you were nervous, it isn’t an easy decision, choosing to be connected to someone in the closest way possible.

“But you’ll go into heat a bit later, don’t you have any performances lined up?” Jeongguk asked, eyes darting to every corner of your face to make sure you weren’t doing this out of obligation.

“I called out of work once I realised you were going into rut, and I’m really ready, Jeongguk, unless you’re not,” you look at him quizzically, but both of you know there’s no malice behind your tone, and the slight bossiness of your tone is certainly waking him up in more ways than one.

“How long till the brownies are done?” Jeongguk asked with a fluttering heart, he loves your brownies, and making it for breakfast is weird, but you love how weird he is, and you actively indulge in his quirkiness.

“About 20 minutes, think you could make me cum before they’re done?” you ask with a challenging tone, quickly taking off your apron.

“You bet,” Jeongguk says before he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you back to the bedroom where he emerged from not too long ago.

Jeongguk throws you on the bed lightly, getting a giggle out of you at the bounciness of the bed.

“Let’s see if you’ll be laughing in a bit, baby,” Jeongguk teases before he captures your lips with his, his lips still taste minty fresh from brushing his teeth.

Jeongguk breaks off the kiss to take off his shirt, his abs looking like they’re sculpted by greek gods under the morning rays.

Jeongguk manhandles you onto his thighs, he’s not a horny teenage alpha who can’t control his urges, but he just enjoys the process of having your cute butt grinding on his clothed cock.

You got the message quickly, rotating your hips in circular motions, arousal dampening Jeongguk’s sweatpants once his length starts to grow under your ministrations, getting turned on by the fact that you’re the only one with this sort of power over him.

“I need you fuck me, Jeongguk, 20 minutes, remember?” you remind him after having caught a whiff of the scent of chocolate mixing with your scents.

“Yeah, sure, baby,” Jeongguk promises, tugging your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts, your nipples pebbling up from the cool air of your shared bedroom, the AC still lingering in the air after you turned it off before leaving the room, catching the attention of your boyfriend, who quickly envelopes the closest nipple he could get to, sucking diligently, his other hand occupying your other boob, twisting, sucking, and licking, your back arching off into his hold, his free hand’s fingers dipping into the curve of your back, he tightens his hold on you before he ceases all actions.

“Present yourself, baby,” Jeongguk says, his voice dropping into a lower octave, his eyes flashing red, he’s not using his alpha voice, Jeongguk would rather chop off his dick than force you into having sex with him, he just knows you get your panties drenched whenever you hear his ‘sexy voice’, as you often call it, which is why you’re quick to get into position, hands and knees on the bed with your ass perched high for Jeongguk’s taking.

Jeongguk mutters curses under his breath at the sight of you, your pretty pussy shining with arousal that flows down to your smooth thighs, Jeongguk is definitely a lucky man.

When he starts dipping his fingers into your core, you whine.

“Just put it in, Guk, I’m ready,” you complain with a whine as you wiggle your butt enticingly, and it worked like magic, his hands smacking one of your cheeks, that recoil is going to kill him.

Then you feel it, the blunt tip finally breaching your walls, if your heat hasn’t started, it definitely has, with the way you get wetter with every inch Jeongguk feeds you, your omega accommodating to your alpha naturally.

When Jeongguk finally sinks his entire length into you, your toes curl at the feeling of being full.

“Can I move, baby?” Jeongguk asks, he knows the two of you are in a time crunch, but he’d rather let his favourite dessert burn than hurt you in any way.

“Yeah you can move,” you say breathlessly, Jeongguk steals your breath away at any situation, whether it’s because he’s fresh out of the shower, dressed up for a date, or merely cooking, he looks flawless executing what he does, especially in bed.

Jeongguk starts off with shallow thrusts, biting on his lower lip at the way your walls hug him right back deeper at every movement.

When Jeongguk feels your walls finally accommodating his size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, groaning when he feels you clenching onto his length when he finally hits that sweet spot that has you whining and body coursing in pleasurable ecstasy, your back arching into his touch, the sight of your round ass catching his attention, smacking your ass, hands grasping for a bit before he lets go, choosing to make his way to your pretty little clit.

Jeongguk knows you’re close, it’s written in the way you’re gripping him in an almost death grip.

“Cum for me, baby, need you to drench this cock so I can pop my knot inside you, fill you up with pups,” Jeongguk says with a groan by your ear before he feels his knot swelling, the added girth pushes you over the edge, your body spasming as you feel your breath being knocked out of you.

Soon after, Jeongguk’s knot starts to deflate, gushes of cum spilling into your womb, and that feeling kick starts this carnal need inside you.

“Need you to mark me, Guk, I’m ready, ready to be your mate,” you confess, still clenching onto him.

Jeongguk halts his movements, but the jerk of his cock gives him away.

“Please, your omega needs you,” you plead, stretching your neck to reveal the tempting expanse of your neck.

“Baby, we should talk about this-

“No, please, I’ve thought about this for a long time now, I’m ready,” you reassured.

“O-okay,” Jeongguk finally agrees, his alpha growling in agreement.

Jeongguk continues on with shallow thrusts while he rubs your clit in quick circles when he finally bites down on your neck, sealing the two of you together, and you would’ve never imagined this feeling.

The feeling of a weight lifted off, your omega that used to feel so restless, now being a part of you and your alpha.

Jeongguk quickly laps up the wound, easing the healing process before he pulls you sideways, wrapping his arms around your figure.

You curl up next to him seamlessly, sighing in contentment.

“When we’re done eating the brownies and your heat strikes again, you have to promise to give me my mating mark too,” Jeongguk says with a slight whine to his voice, the alpha image dissolving right before your eyes.

You weren’t surprised he asked for his own mating mark, the last time you guys discussed about mating marks, he had insisted on you marking him.

“I promise, now hurry up and deflate your knot or my brownies are really going to burn,” you say with a huff.

“Hush, there’s still 9 minutes left, we can just waddle to the oven together,” Jeongguk teases, which earns him a playful slap on his butt that’s conveniently within reach.

You definitely won’t regret being Jeongguk’s mate.

#jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic

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akutasoda · 2 months

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Hii! I absolutely love your writing!

Could i request dazai (and any other characters if youd like) with an softhearted s/o whos mother is very manipulative and just falls into it like she deep down kinda hates her mother cause her mother has all control of her life whenever shes around her and she has to put on an act of being perfect 24/7 for her mother and she cant even tell her mother that she feels horrible and tired becouse of this cause of the manipulation and she would feel bad for her mother

Im sorry if its confusing or written wrong english isnt my first language!

mother knows best

synopsis - when their s/o has a manipulative mother

includes - dazai, chuuya, nikolai

warnings - gn!reader, reader has a controlling mother, fluff, angst with comfort, hints towards murder, manipulation, wc - 717

a/n: hii! thank you! :) just wanna say if anyone has a similar situation to this please speak up, i know it may seem difficult to do but it helps so much

osamu dazai ★↷

↪he absolutely loved how genuinely kind and sweet you were. he found it hard to believe somebody like you really would date someone like him.

↪he thought it was rather nice that you're mother always reached out to you and checked ok you often. but from around the second time he saw your mother around you he knew something was up.

↪he would catch the very quick tenses and looks of gatred before you put on your best smile and continued being kind. he never said anything because he felt like it wasn't his place to get involved in your family affairs.

↪but he really couldn't help but ask after your mother always seemed to decide what you were doing and when - especially because you became so tired looking.

↪and when he asked you really couldn't help but finally let it all out. all the years of your mother controlling your life, making you feel horrible and how you felt so helpless. all dazai could do was hold you and let you get all your feelings out.

↪he knew a thing about manipulation and so had no issue in stepping in himself and started to remove your mother's control. little by little ridding you of the manipulation from your mother until she could finally leave you alone.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

↪he really felt someone as sweet and kind as you shouldn't end up with someone in his line of work but he'd allow himself as he really loved you.

↪seeing how close you and your mother were made him feel happy for you. he did think it was really sweet and he could only wish for that sort of relationship with family - that was until he started seeing some signs.

↪he started getting an off feeling whenever your mother spoke for you, deciding what you were doing. he started really disliking your mother after seeing how tired you were becoming.

↪he wouldn't hesitate to voice his concerns to you and your mother and hated the fact that she still answered for you. so instead he asked you directly and wanted an answer, he wouldn't want you to be hurt by your own mother.

↪and when you finally let all your feelings go he only offered you his undivided attention and support. he absolutely hated how someone that was your family could do this too you and so would happily intervene.

↪if you allowed him, he would be brutally honest. sparing no sympathy in his words and telling your mother outright to leave you alone and to let you be your own person and wouldn't let up until she got the message.

↪if you didn't allow him, he'd begrudgingly step back. but he'd still oppose your mother very happily and would always make sure that she let up her control of your life slowly and subtly.

nikolai gogol ★↷

↪he thought you were the absolute sweetest. your genuine kindness would be something bew to him and he quickly learnt to happily indulge himself in it. he practically clings to you for affection

↪he also liked how close you were to your mother. he admired that connection to your family and always thought it was sweet. but he very quickly started thinking the opposite.

↪he would note how she always spoke for you and decided what you did. how you always seemed more fake when she was around, which was often, and how sometimes you'd even become tense.

↪he would have no issue in asking about the whole situation but he gathered it was probably sensitive so he would wait to ask you in private. he would listen diligently to your worries and how tired you were.

↪hearing about how your mother controlled you made him quite upset. it really went against his whole desire for freedom and so he'd be willingy to do absolutely anything to help you regain that freedom.

↪if you were fine with it, he'd happily be brutal with it. now i wouldn't go into details but he hasn't exactly got a moral compass and would happily dispose of your mother.

↪but if you disagreed with his methods he'd become more subtle. removing your mother's influence bit by bit until you could completely remove her influence over your entire life.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader

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emeritusemeritus · 2 months

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Idk what you think BUT I need the quirky shy reader with glasses who's being bullied for being obviously a virgin and Fred stepping into it because he hates to see her suffering and obviously filling the cliche of falling for her. Hope you like this idea 🥲

My pleasure dear Anon 🖤

Warnings: bullying, sexual harassment, sexual references, love triangle? So many tropes. Insecurities and negative thoughts of self. Fake dating, dating for status, kissing. Love confessions. Inspired by one of my favourite films.

Word count: 3k (oops I got carried away)

"School doesn't have to be the worst years of your life."

Your mother had repeated as you begrudgingly stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express about to start your fifth year, letting your insecurities get the better of you once again. You'd made friends during your years of magical education sure, but you were shy, almost to a fault and you knew you were far from the most attractive girl at school. You had glasses and were quiet, the usual suspects that made you unattractive in society's eyes. You longed for the moment you could transform like all the quiet, nerdy girls in muggle films that suddenly take off their glasses, let their hair down and were considered the hottest girl in town. Instead you would still just be you, without the ability to see.

The teasing had begun not long after your fourth year, the boys of the quidditch team trying to get a rise out of you, deciding that your quiet and unassuming presence was somehow offensive to them. You were bullied for simply existing and for being you.

"Oooh look, here's Mary," one had said, his acne covered face repulsing you without even having to open his mouth.

"Very original," you'd muttered under your breath, holding back a roll of your eyes at the stupid nickname. Mary was the ultimate virgin, the definition of the good girl, your new apparent namesake.

"Hey virgin girl, can I have your notes?"

"Oi Virgin! Let me break the seal!"

It was incessant, humiliating and utterly soul destroying. The other girls seemed to get away without any of this, Virgin's or not, but you were always singled out, always teased.

You dreamt of becoming the stereotypical bad girl, sleeping around, partying all the things that would alter everyone's perception of you but the thought of even attempting to talk to someone with the aim of having sex was terrifying. Plus, it just wasn't who you were.

Today was a bad day. It had started almost as soon as you walked into the common room, not even fully awake yet when you'd heard someone mutter your despised nickname to one of their friends. You'd been approached by two Slytherin students in the year above who had tried to tease you, to chat you up and feign interest only to laugh at you once you bit back, only you didn't bite back, you walked off and ignored them- not falling for their tricks.

So when Fred Weasley approached you just after study hall, you did the same. Walked off, looked down and didn't even give him chance to speak, preempting the usual conversation.

He tried again later that day and you rolled your eyes, starting to get frustrated with his determination to make a fool out of you.

You knew the Weasley twins and their pranks and you weren't about to have your hair dyed blue for the entertainment of your peers and so you avoided him completely.

"Y/n, wait," you hear once again and pause to take a deep breath followed by an exaggerated sigh.

"Fred, what do you want?" You say, not holding back in frustration.

"I want to help," he says, catching his breath as he jogged across the deserted corridor to catch up with you.

"Why?" You asked bluntly, still not falling for whatever he was trying to do.

"Because no one should feel like they're making you feel," he says honestly, his eyes looking almost completely sincere.

"And that's your concern because?"

He shrugs, "it's not, but I think I can help."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Date me."

You instinctively roll your eyes, huffing and trying to move away from him but he steps around you, blocking the way. "I mean like fake dating, I'll pretend to be your boyfriend and hopefully they'll leave you alone. I'll be honest with you, there's a girl I've got my eye on and."

"Angelina," you say, making him pause and look at you with a shocked expression. "I might wear glasses but I'm not blind."

"If she thinks I'm dating someone then she might get jealous? Never mind it's a terrible plan. Just forget I said anything."

"Fred wait," you say, calling out to him after he changed his mind halfway through, beginning to walk off. "You think it would work? You ask, showing a little bit of vulnerability.

"Can't hurt to try."

Fred had stuck to his word and after a little bit of sorting out, discussing boundaries and so on, you'd gone public with your 'relationship' nearly a month ago. Immediately the teasing had dwindled down to only the harshest of bullies but even then you were never mocked in Fred's presence. Angelina had been affected by the news, as Fred had predicted and he found that he did get more attention from her, making your agreement mutually for both of you.

George was in on it of course, and you'd genuinely enjoyed your 'fake dates' where you would accompany them to Hogsmeade, help them with their products and listen to their dreams of opening a joke shop, like zonkos but better.

They were nice people, as were their friends and siblings, at least the ones you'd met and for once it was nice to feel included and genuinely cared for, even if it was under false pretences.

It was all going well until Cormac McLaggen put a spanner in the works. You'd been walking back from potions last off on a Friday afternoon, eager to meet with Fred for dinner when Cormac had cornered you in the empty corridor, spouting a load of shit about being attracted to geeky girls, that glasses were a turn on for him. He'd tried to kiss you, manoeuvring you until you were backed up against the wall to try and swoop in but you'd managed to push him off just in time and run away. The whole thing had left you shaken and rightfully so, skipping dinner to cry into your pillow.

Fred found you in your dorm, worried because you hadn't shown up to meet him as you'd promised. Upon seeing your tear stained face and little sobbing body he'd immediately rushed over and pulled you into his arms trying to soothe you.

"What happened?" He asked gently, trying to get you to look at him but you couldn't.

"Cormac," you managed to get out, sniffling pathetically, "he tried to kiss me."

"That bastard," Fred said, quickly turning angry once he figured out what you were saying. "Who the fuck does he think he is? I've half a mind to."

"No Freddie please," you said, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him from acting out. Truthfully you were surprised by his reaction, even if you had grown closer over the past month but you didn't linger on it, instead trying to calm him down. "It's not worth it, I just," you paused, embarrassed by what you were going to say.

"What is it?" Fred says gently, listening to your pleading as he pushed down his anger.

"I couldn't let him be my first kiss."

The silence that lingered felt painfully awkward as you sat cringing in embarrassment, having to admit that out loud.

"Let it me be," he says suddenly, speaking a little too quickly as the words were jumbled and rushed. When you looked up at him in surprise, he seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking. "Let it be me," he says again, much more slowly and quietly now. You don't reply other than to frown up at him in confusion, which he notices and smiles gently at you. "Just a thought, but if you want it to be with someone you can trust, someone who cares about you then let it be me."

The second your lips meet his, it's like he's accidentally set off a full case of whizzbangs around the room, sparks flying in your mind as you feel his soft, puffy lips on your own. It's a little awkward at first and you're self conscious about wether he can feel your glasses, if they'll get in the way but if it seems to bother him, he doesn't let it show. You expect the kiss to only last for a few seconds but it lingers, deepening as you let him guide you. When you finally pull apart, you look up at him with a blank expression, somewhat shaken by how good that felt. You expected him to crack a joke or give you notes or something like that to break whatever spell had been unknowingly cast between the both of you but he doesn't, he simply looks at you with a man expression you can't read, a softness.

The door opening makes you both jump back and the light, pleasant feeling you had felt only moments ago disappeared instantly when Angelina walked through the door. You felt guilty like a child that had been caught stealing a cookie from the kitchen counter. Fred looked stricken, knowing that Angelina had most definitely known what you were doing, if she hadn't seen.

"Don't stop on my account," she'd said in a rather harsh tone, going over to her bed to grab her quidditch stuff before turning to look at Fred, ignoring you completely.

"Practice is at 4, don't be late," she says bluntly, pausing to give you a dirty look before she turns back to Fred as she walks out. "Unless you're too busy."

"Fred," you said quietly as you watch him walk out without so much as another look in your direction. He was mad, and you knew he had every reason to be.

The rest of that week went by in a miserable blur. Though you hadn't officially 'broken up', rumours were flying around the school and the old teasing had begun to reappear, only to change to anything from 'slut', 'Weasley fucker' and 'Fred's ex whore'. You were even more miserable than before; this was so much worse than being called a virgin, because despite what everyone thought, you still were. But now you were completely without the one person who made you feel wanted, safe and the person that you'd stupidly fell for.

Ginny had been surprisingly supportive throughout everything, remaining your friend when you felt lost and cast aside. She'd convinced you to stop moping and join Hermione to watch their Quidditch practice after classes had finished, with promises that they wouldn't mention Fred's name once.

It was all well and good until you spotted Angelina and Fred laughing together, stood next to each-other as she grabbed his arm, both of them so invested in one another that they forgot Quidditch practice was happening around them.

It hurt to see them so happy, to see Fred with someone else even though your relationship had been fake all along. This was what he wanted all along, she was what he wanted, not you. No one would ever want you.

"I'm sorry," you said to Hermione as you shuffled out of the pitch side stands, trying to get away, not wanting to watch this anymore when it hurt so bad.

You'd come so close to successfully slipping out without anybody noticing until a singular loud voice called out, disrupting the peace.

"Where you off to Weasley fucker? Your boyfriend's that way!"

You froze, hearing the laughter of his cronies behind him and reared up, no longer feeling meek and timid but instead wanting to give him a piece of your mind, completely past the point of being able to take this shit. But you couldn't, because as you turned, Fred caught your eye. He looked at you with such a heartbroken expression that it instantly made your resolve crumble, any braveness you held seconds before disappeared under his gaze. So you did the only thing you could do- run away.

You successfully avoided pretty much everyone for the rest of the week, spending most of your time in the library. It was easier to just disappear than having to face the torment from your peers or watch Fred and Angelina together; truthfully you didn’t know what was worse.

The plan with Fred had been an almighty fail, almost comically so. Instead bring of quiet, bookish and virginal you were now quiet, bookish, slutty and scorned, a laughing stock with the addition of having real feelings for someone that would never reciprocate them.

It was the final quidditch game of the season that night, the finale to decide who would win the house cup before summer began. You had absolutely no intention of attending and instead had planned to get an early dinner, pack up your belongings and try to convince Madame Pince to allow you to check out a book over the summer.

Both Ginny and Hermione had tried to get you to come but you’d turned them down, really not wanting to watch Fred parade around the pitch on his broomstick. George was the one to convince you in the end, catching you between classes and asking for you to come and watch them, sad puppy eyes and all.

That’s exactly how you found yourself in the loud, crowded stands, surrounded by the entire school and faculty to watch the House cup deciding game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, the most tense final imaginable. You stood with Hermione and Neville, much quieter in your celebration than the people around you as you watched the Gryffindor team approach the pitch, dressed in their signature burgundy and gold uniforms and carrying their brooms in procession. The Slytherins appeared mere moments after and with a brief speech given by Dumbledore, the game commenced.

Each goal brought an uproar of cheers from the people around you, as did each save from the keepers. You couldn’t take your eyes of Fred, as much as you wanted to. His precision with the bat, the way in which he made it looked so effortless and fluid was pretty spectacular.

The sky was clouding over, heavy and dark with all the signs of rain but you prayed in held outside long enough for the game to be over, the seekers doubling down their efforts so that they could see the snitch amongst the thick clouds.

A ruckus on the pitch dragged your attention back to the game when you saw an altercation breaking out against the teams, the whistle blowing repeatedly as the referee tried to break them up as the game pauses. The entire crowd was booing and there was a portion of the stands on the first Gryffindor tower that seemed to be stood up, everyone rushing out of the way.

“That was a foul that!” Seamus says from behind you.

“Goyle! He just Bumphed the crowd! Surely he needs sending off for that!” You heard one of the Patil sisters say, alluding to the Slytherin beater.

Suddenly, something else draws your attention away as you watch Fred dismount his broomstick, rushing over to Goyle who looks to be mouthing off at him. George is quick on Fred’s heels, trying to hold him back as his temper flairs, lunging at Goyle. Snape appears from the sidelines, gestures for Crabbe to take over and drags Goyle away from the pitch as McGonagall steps into the pitch to deal with Fred, though you find moment later that he’s allowed to carry on playing.

The whistle blows for the match to resume as the entirety of Gryffindor begins chanting Fred’s name in victory for his dealing with Goyle, gearing up for his turn to take the penalty shot.

It’s too much, to hard to hear everyone chanting for Fred, his name echoing around you until it makes you feel dizzy. You see Hermione cast a sympathetic glance in your direction and when you turn to her, she gives you a little nod, signalling that it’s alright for you to leave. You look around at the supporters, in their finest school colours, faced painted, signs made and chanting Fred Weasley’s name and you feel completely out of place, wishing you were anywhere else.

Once again you try to slip out undetected, wanting some air and a break from everything, just as the first rain drops begin to fall. They chant Fred’s name over and over and you just wish he’d hurry up and take the penalty already, to just get it over with.

You get the side steps of the stand, battling your way to squeeze past the cheering crowds until you’re nearly free. Until you feel the cold whoosh of something nearby, making you pause.

Fred.

He dismounts his broomstick, handing it to someone in the crowd that he’s not even paying attention to, climbing up the stairs quickly to get to you dressed in his complete quidditch outfit, leather pads and all. He tosses off his goggles and drops his bat, discarding them on the way to get to you but he doesn’t seem to care.

He appears in front of you and you’re frozen, not knowing what to do. You can feel the eyes of the entire pitch full of people on you but you don’t care in the moment, too confused by his actions.

“Fred? What are you doing?” You say, eyes briefly pulling away from his smiling face to look at the pitch, seeing the entire quidditch team suspended in the ear carefully watching.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he says, looking all over your face with a smile before his gaze focuses on your lips.

His lips feel incredible against yours as he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, pulling you into his body to hold you close as the crowd roars around you. You feel the thick droplets of rain beginning to descend around you but you don’t pay it any notice, your entire attention focused in on Fred.

The rain begins to pour, the sky opening up and drenching you in what seems to be seconds.

Fred pulls away first and smiles at you, before leaning in once again, capturing your lips and wordlessly giving you everything everything you ever wanted, making you realise that your mother had been right all along.

School doesn't have to be the worst years of your life.

*Alexa play Hear Me Now by Jimmy Eat World*

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #requests #anon answered

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kckt88 · 5 months

Text

Take My Breath Away III

Summary:

The time has come for Vaeryna and Aemond to get married. A lie is uncovered and truths are told.

Warning(s): Swearing, Angst, Marriage, Consummation - P in V sex, Dubious Consent, Regret, Mentions of Death.

Word Count: 3487

GREENS WIN - SLOW BURN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Kings Landing was a buzz with activity. The guests were arriving, the preparations had been made and it was finally here. The day Vaeryna and Aemond would stand together in the sept and get married.

Vaeryna was so nervous that she decided to skip breakfast, as she wasn’t sure that she could actually stomach food.

After bathing, Vaeryna’s maids began to help her get ready. Her long silver hair was brushed and twisted into elegant braids, her mother’s Valyrian steel necklace was fastened around her neck, and she placed her father’s gold Targaryen sigil ring on her finger. They couldn’t be with her in person, but they would be with her in spirit.

Now the wedding dress had been an issue from day one, Alicent wanted her to wear some green atrocity and Vaeryna promptly refused and when her soon to be good mother wasn’t looking the dress accidentally landed in the fire.

Alicent of course wasn’t happy, but Vaeryna couldn’t give two shits, and promptly went to the King and asked for his permission to design her own wedding dress, which he readily granted.

In normal circumstances, Vaeryna might have been shocked by the King’s willingness to grant her request, but she quickly came to realise that he just relished in the opportunity to cause trouble.

Perhaps what surprised Vaeryna more, was Aemond. Since their confrontation in her chambers, he’d taken to point blank ignoring her whenever she was in his presence which suited her just fine. But he hadn’t told his mother or Aegon about her relationship with Jace.

He was obviously keeping that little bombshell to himself for a reason and Vaeryna had to be cautious.

But the wedding dress she’d designed was modest, might have displayed a little too much cleavage for Alicent’s taste but Vaeryna wanted the guests to see her mothers necklace and know that Rhaenyra was still amongst them.

Of course, Vaeryna honoured little Jaehaera and had white butterflies stitched into the train of her dress. Some of them, Jaehaera had even stitched herself.

It was hard to believe that sweet little girl was truly Aegon’s daughter, she was entirely Helaena and Vaeryna made a silent vow to her aunt that she would always look out for her little girl.

At the waist of her dress, Vaeryna had dragon scale pattern stitched into the fabric, she of course wanted the guests to know that she was a true dragon. She would not forsake her Targaryen heritage for the seven.

As soon as the gown had been buttoned and her maiden cloak tied. There was a soft knock at the door. It was the King.

“I’ve come to escort you to the sept and walk you down the aisle”.

Vaeryna nodded and took a deep breath as she took Aegon’s arm.

Admittedly the sept was decorated beautifully, but it was Alicent’s expression that really brought a smile to Vaeryna’s face. She looked positively scandalised at the wedding dress she’d chosen.

Aemond was stood beside the high septon. He was elegantly dressed, his black tunic decorated with silver dragons and his Targaryen cloak tied loosely around his shoulders. His long hair tied back in its usual half up, half down style.

The horns signalled the beginning of the ceremony and begrudgingly Vaeryna took Aegon’s arm again.

“You look beautiful, my brother is a lucky man” said Aegon.

“He’s certainly something” muttered Vaeryna.

“Thank you for escorting the bride Your Grace. If you would be so kind as to wait for the Princess to remove her maiden cloak” said the Septon.

Vaeryna undid the ties of her maiden cloak and handed it to Aegon who bowed respectfully to the Septon and resumed his seat next to Alicent.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection” said the Septon loudly.

Aemond removed the cloak bearing the colours of house Targaryen and draped it around Vaeryna’s shoulders.

Aemond then took Vaeryna’s hand and smiled as the Septon tied their hands together by a ribbon.

“In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Now you may look upon one another and say these vows together” exclaimed the Septon.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days” said Vaeryna.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days” declared Aemond loudly.

“The vows have been spoken and the rings exchanged. You may kiss your bride”.

Aemond leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaeryna’s lips.

The celebration after their wedding was in full swing.

King Aegon was sat at the head of the table, with a smiling Alicent and Jaehaera by his side.

Vaeryna sat next to Aemond near the head of the table, smiling as many Lords and ladies came up to wish them well and bestow gifts upon them, while also enjoying the food of their feast. Borros Baratheon who glared pointedly at Aemond, Tyland Lannister, and one that seemed to linger, Dalton Greyjoy.

The young lord was similar in age to both Vaeryna and Aemond.

"Many good wishes, Princess Vaeryna. A match many shall pray for a fruitful outcome. I must admit Princess, the tales of your great beauty have not been exaggerated. Your skin is as beautiful as the freshly fallen snows of Winterfell and your eyes are more pretty than anything I’ve ever seen".

Vaeryna shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Aemond scowled.

"Thank you," nodded Vaeryna politely.

A sudden loud roar spooked everyone as Cannibal flew over the Red Keep.

“Ahh yes, your Cannibal. I’ve heard he’s an impressive beast”.

“My Cannibal is not a beast” huffed Vaeryna.

“His ferocious nature is well known. How is it that you managed to claim such a creature?”

“I wouldn’t expect a Greyjoy to understand even the basic fundamentals of how a Targaryen claims a dragon” retorted Vaeryna.

“If you ever find yourself bored of Kings Landing, you can always visit the Iron Islands. I’m sure I can find something else for you to ride” replied Dalton smirking.

Aemond slammed his fist into the table as he rose sharply from his seat.

“You dare speak to my wife like that” snarled Aemond.

“Relax kinslayer. I was only jesting,” laughed Dalton.

SMACK!

Suddenly Dalton Greyjoy crumpled to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose.

“Never speak to me like that again” snarled Vaeryna.

“Y-You broke my nose” exclaimed Dalton.

“A broken nose will be the least of your worries if you do not remove yourself from my sight”.

“Vaeryna” gasped Aemond, his single amethyst eye wide in surprise.

“A kraken is no match for a dragon” exclaimed Vaeryna suddenly becoming aware of everyone staring at her.

“Quite right good sister. More wine I think” declared Aegon loudly as he handed Vaeryna a full goblet of wine and staggered away to get more.

“That was quite impressive” muttered Aemond.

“I am blood of the dragon, and I will not tolerate slanders” said Vaeryna.

“Hm” muttered Aemond.

“I wish to toast my brother Prince Aemond and my good siter Princess Vaeryna on their marriage. May it be long and fruitful” said Aegon loudly as he raised his cup.

“Thank you, Your Grace” said Vaeryna as she bowed respectfully.

“I think it’s time that we retired our chambers” muttered Aemond.

“-Yes brother. Time for the bedding” exclaimed Aegon eagerly.

“Don’t even think about it” snapped Aemond as he took hold of Vaeryna’s arm and marched her out of the Throne Room.

This was the moment that Vaeryna had been dreading. As Aemond had oddly enough refused a traditional bedding ceremony. They were able to walk to their shared chambers without a fuss.

After they had entered their shared chambers, Vaeryna stood in stoney silence as she stared at Aemond, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was no sense in prolonging the inevitable.

“Would you help me with the gown, husband?” asked Vaeryna as she turned from him and swept her hair away from her back to reveal a great number of fiddly buttons and laces.

“Of course,” replied Aemond as he reached forward and began undoing his wife’s wedding gown.

Soon she was stood in nothing but a thin shift and Aemond felt his heart quicken in his chest at the sight of her nipples through the sheer fabric.

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, he believed whole heartedly that Vaeryna belonged to him, she had returned to Kings Landing of her own volition and accepted the terms offered to her.

However, her brazen and openly defiant attitude was unbecoming of a lady, and the way she spoke to him, angered him greatly. She was rude, disrespectful, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

She had invaded his senses, driving him to the point of madness.

But then he discovered her involvement with Jacaerys, and he’d been consumed with anger and jealousy.

He was going to erase the memory of that bastard strong boy and make Vaeryna his.

Aemond began pulling off his own clothes as Vaeryna slowly sat on the bed.

He noticed that she trembled slightly as she pulled off her shift, revealing her naked body to him.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” asked Aemond as he discarded the last of his clothes.

Vaeryna shook her head slightly, avoiding her husband’s gaze.

Aemond placed his hand on Vaeryna’s shoulder and directed her to lay down.

He laid between his wife’s open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against his wife’s entrance.

Vaeryna shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

Aemond stopped as Vaeryna shrieked loudly in pain. He lifted his head and noticed that she had her eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t understand, she told him she’d bedded Jacaerys.

Aemond then pulled back slightly and looked down, his eye going wide at the blood staining his cock.

“-Y-You’re still a maid?”

Vaeryna didn’t answer she just turned her head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

“You lied to me. Why?” asked Aemond.

“You know why” replied Vaeryna, closing her eyes again as she felt Aemond’s cock twitching inside her.

“I-I can stop. If it’s too much” whispered Aemond.

“Just get on with it” muttered Vaeryna.

“Not if I’m hurting you”.

“Aemond stop being a girl and get on with it. You know as well as I do, that we must do this” snapped Vaeryna.

Aemond moved forward and grimaced at Vaeryna’s whimper of pain.

The tears rolled down Vaeryna’s cheeks as Aemond rutted against her.

All she could think of as Aemond continuously thrust his hard cock into her was Jace. Her first time should have been his, but Aemond had taken it and now she would never get it back.

Aemond gave a surprised moan as she involuntarily clenched around him.

Vaeryna dug her fingers into the sheets, not wanting to touch Aemond as the pace of his thrusts increased.

He buried his face into her neck and let out a long low groan as he spilled his seed inside her.

Eventually Aemond pulled his softened cock from her and sat on the edge of the bed.

Vaeryna rolled to her side and began to cry.

Aemond took his robe that was haphazardly thrown across the back of a chair and pulled it on.

He gazed at Vaeryna’s shaking form and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach, he wanted to erase the memory of Jacaerys, to make her his. But not like this.

He went to the privy and threw up. The wine he’d consumed earlier was now bitter and putrid on his tongue.

The gnawing feeling of disgust swirled in the pit of his stomach as he could still hear the sobs of his wife through the closed door.

He didn’t know how long he’d been in the privy, but when he returned to his chambers, Vaeryna had fallen asleep.

Aemond could see the blood stain on the sheets, and he was filled with bitter regret, he’d been so blinded by his rage and jealousy that he had taken what he wanted and never spared a thought for how she would feel.

If he had known she was still a maid, he would’ve been kinder, he would have prepared her and made sure she was comfortable.

He stood at the foot of the bed for what seemed like an age, simply staring at Vaeryna as she slept.

He once thought that he’d feel delighted at the sight of her tears, especially after she had mocked him for his involvement with Alys, but this wasn’t what he wanted.

As he pulled on a pair of loose breeches, he contemplated sleeping elsewhere but he knew if he did that, word would get back to his mother or the King, so he decided to stay.

After discarding his eyepatch on the nightstand Aemond slowly climbed into the bed and gazed at Vaeryna.

He could still see the faint tracks of dried tears on her face, and with a shaking hand he reached out and gently stroked her cheek.

“I’m sorry” whispered Aemond as he turned over and closed his eye.

The next morning Aemond awoke to the maids setting up breakfast in his chambers.

Aemond groaned as he pressed his face into his pillow, it was the worst night sleep he’d ever had.

“Apologise My Prince, I do not mean to disturb you, but your breakfast is ready”.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he sat up, his palm pressed to the side of his face.

Once he’d slipped the eyepatch over his head, Aemond looked over his shoulder and frowned as the space Vaeryna had occupied last night was empty.

“Where is my wife?” asked Aemond as he rose from the bed.

“The Princess left early this morning, she’s with her dragon” replied the maid, her gaze lowered to the floor.

Rather than deal with the fall out from the previous night, Vaeryna had chosen to flee and seek solace with her Cannibal.

“Apologise My Prince but I must strip the bed, the sheets need to be presented” muttered the maid.

Of course, the blood and seed stained sheets would need to be displayed as proof that he’d done his duty and consummated the marriage.

Aemond nodded and sat at the table, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat.

He found himself thinking of Vaeryna and he hoped that she was ok, he briefly entertained the notion of mounting Vhagar and seeing if he could find her but he quicky dismissed that idea.

She had obviously fled the Red Keep because she wanted to be alone, and if that’s what she wanted then he would grant her that courtesy at least.

For the rest of the day Aemond tried to distract himself, he attended his usual training session with Ser Criston, but that did nothing to quell the feelings of disgust and uncertainty swirling within him.

He tried to visit the library and spend his usual hour reading, but he could not concentrate, the sound of Vaeryna’s pained whimpers had etched themselves into his mind.

He of course made sure to avoid Aegon at all costs, he couldn’t deal with the teasing japes his brother would no doubt levy against him.

The only place Aemond seemed to have any reprieve from his thoughts was the sept, he knelt at the alter and bowed his head, praying for forgiveness.

He remained on his knees until they began to ache, he figured it was his penance for the pain he’d inflicted upon his wife.

Eventually Aemond returned to his chambers, he’d skipped breakfast and lunch, and now he was starving.

He declined his mothers invite to dine with her and Aegon, claiming he preferred to dine alone with his wife.

Of course, his mother knew that Vaeryna had spent the day with Cannibal, but she didn’t comment further, and he was glad for it. He wasn’t sure he could deal with her lecturing him.

Aemond opened the door to his chambers and came to stop as he spotted Vaeryna sitting at the table.

“I think we need to talk” muttered Vaeryna.

“Yes. We do” replied Aemond as he took a seat across from his wife.

“I didn’t know what food you would like so I just asked the maids to bring everything”.

Despite his hunger, Aemond didn’t reach for any food. That gnawing feeling of uncertainty raising to the surface.

“You were married to Jacaerys?” asked Aemond.

“I was” replied Vaeryna.

“Yet you did not lay with him. Why?”

“We wanted to wait until the war was over, at the time he was still betrothed to Baela, and we couldn’t risk Corlys finding out. Mother needed her alliance with the Velaryon’s. We had this dreamy idea of having a proper ceremony later and then we could be together” said Vaeryna.

“You should have been honest with me”.

“You were angry because you thought I had bedded my brother and yet you seem angry that I didn’t. I thought you would have preferred that I was a maid” replied Vaeryna.

“Had I known I would not have been so careless. I hurt you and I bitterly regret it”.

“Wasn’t that what you wanted-to hurt me?” asked Vaeryna quietly.

“No, despite the fact that you infuriate me beyond all reason, I had no such desire to hurt you” said Aemond sadly.

“I-I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth” muttered Vaeryna.

Aemond simply nodded his head as he reached forward and began to fill his plate with food.

“You said you married Jace in the Vale”.

“Yes, I don’t think the ceremony could be classed as being official. As it was just us” said Vaeryna.

“D-Did you love him?” asked Aemond.

“Yes, I did. Very much” replied Vaeryna.

“Hm”

“Did you love Alys?” asked Vaeryna.

“I thought I did” said Aemond.

“I met her you know”.

“Y-You did?” exclaimed Aemond.

“I flew to Harrenhal just before my father abandoned it and I saw them together”.

“That must have been difficult” muttered Aemond.

“It was, but in truth my mother and father had began to drift apart after Luke’s death and what happened to Jaehaerys-“

“-She knew about it” said Aemond sharply.

“I’m not sure what you were told, but my mother didn’t know about Blood and Cheese until after Jaehaerys was killed, she was lost in her grief for Luke” replied Vaeryna.

Aemond reached for his cup of wine and took a large sip.

“She went to Shipbreaker Bay”.

“What?” asked Aemond.

“After she received word of Luke’s death, she took Syrax and spent hours searching for his body".

“Oh” whispered Aemond, lowering his gaze.

“When you killed him, not only did you commit the gravest of sins, but without Luke’s body, my mother was denied the solace of honouring the traditional customs of a Valyrian funeral”.

“-And that warrants the murder of my nephew?”

“No. It wasn’t the murder of Luke that facilitated your nephews murder, it was the blatant disrespect that Aegon showed by throwing a feast and celebrating what you did. Not to mention you broke the law by killing a messenger. Aegon has the nerve to call himself King, yet he does nothing to uphold the laws of the land. If he had half a brain, he should’ve had you imprisoned and immediately sent his apology to my mother. Yes, you killed my brother, but it was Aegon’s own incompetence that contributed to the death of his son” said Vaeryna.

Aemond sat there stunned to silence as he processed what Vaeryna had just said, and he was ashamed to admit that in part she was right. Throwing a feast to celebrate was not only disrespectful but it made it look like Aegon had authorized Luke’s death.

In all his guilt, anger and regret he never once considered other factors that could have contributed to what happened to his nephew, it was just easier to blame Daemon and Rhaenyra.

“She spoke to me. Alys-I mean” said Vaeryna.

“W-What did she say?” asked Aemond.

“Told me that my silver haired babe would be King one day. Of course, at the time I thought she was referring to a son that I would have with Jace, but now I realize that she was referring to my son with you”

“Do you think that means you are with child?”

“Too soon to tell, but I guess well find out in a few weeks if your seed has taken root or not” said Vaeryna softly.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #hotd smut #prince aemond #aemond #aemond smut #aemond one eye

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snarky-art · 10 days

Text

Chimera and Cassandra!

In my rewrite, they’re both Lunarian , aka Deliosians (the actual name that most of them use to refer to themselves as)

Cassandra does indeed use Valtor’s influence to get them a higher ranking, in fact, the highest ranking one could get under Solarian rule.

Chimera is just a pawn in that, and although isn’t enthusiastic, is non the less shunned into obedience by their mother.

Info on their general storyline, content within my lore, and why I drew them Cassandra with a different skin tone and Chimera with a different hair texture below!

Cassandra ends up tanning to pass as more Solarian since they have an ethnic ancestry from those who stayed underground on Lunaria, which in my thing, results in them tending to have a paler complexion as well as increasing the likelihood for a paler hair color. Blond is considered a Solarian trait by those from Solaria, although the lightness of it would be considered Lunarian. Cassandra can just pass it off as being the result of some “impure Ancestry” though and that she’s mainly Solarian because,, the color of her hair, you see? Blond! And her iris color (also Lunarian, but she can claim the paleness is because of the small Lunarian part “tainting” it and resulting in phenotypic traits being less intense in hue) and that combined with her tan, she can prove she is Mostly Solarian,, right????

Spoiler alert: she’s totally 100% Lunarian.

In my thing, Stella will realize fairly quickly that Chimera is not someone who has much choice in this. On top of not being a willful participant, they hate pretty much everything about it. They straighten their hair because it’s easier than curling it to the 3c and various 4 texture curls that Solarian’s can have, but they still hate it. They refuse to tan or add glimmers or contacts to change their eyes. They don’t want to. Why should they?

Cassandra allows it, VERY begrudgingly. She can blame it all on Chimera’s father anyway (he had an ancestry from those who lived above ground hilariously enough, meaning his skin tone and hair color were darker overall, and he could’ve passed better as Solarian if he wanted to ((he didn’t for obvious reasons. Fuck Solarian Imperial rule.)) but shhhh he’s not in the political sphere there’s no reason for that information to pop up ever).

Even with all of this though, when all of this stuff is said and done, Stella can’t even really blame Cassandra.

For Cassandra, yes it is an attempt at a power grab, but, Stella also kind of Gets It.

“Well,, I can’t really blame her for this at the end of it all. I understand why she would want that power. How else would she get it? She’s Lunarian.”

She’s still pissed at her for doing what she could to get rid of her obviously and she thinks she’s a shitty mom, but the actual goal of trying to get on the throne? Stella goes, “well I think it’s fair to see why she would want more power. It’s not like they have much compared to me. To Solarians.”

And people are pissed she’s saying this, it was cute she was trying to play Dress Up and shit (how they referred to her connecting to her heritage from her mother, wearing actual Deliosian garb and paying respect to the Moons equally as much as the Suns). But she’s taking this seriously? Cassandra was just another power hungry Lunarian trying to get into court in a higher position. They’ve always wanted more than they have, say the Solarians in power.

Stella’s response? It’s because what they have isn’t equal.

The rest of the panel she’s speaking to during the court session: well,, I mean, that’s not the same as wanting equality-

Stella: why not? Because you’ve refused to give them independence. This wouldn’t be an issue if you did that. Or are you actually going to concede and give them equal representation?

The panel:…..

Stella ends it by pointing out she’s just as much Lunarian as she is Solarian. The panel hates it.

Stella and Chimera end up as sisters when everything is done, with Stella and Chimera referring to each other as such, and Chimera becomes one of the loudest people and a head representative for the Delios Independence Movement.

Cassandra is still in court sessions as a political figure, but is given shit for being such an ass to Stella and being seen as a shitty mom, forcing her daughter into this and using her mainly for a political pawn. It’s too soon to let her continue to hold influence though after the Valtor incident the others present decide, and she’s kicked out for a while. She’s still shit talked for the reasons previously mentioned, and for being a Lunarian that dared to want power, according to the Solarian Imperialists in court.

Stella invites her back after a time. Stella appreciates her thoughts on how to make things better for those of Delios because she knows Cassandra will never hold back on her real thoughts and feelings. Chimera and Cassandra don’t really talk after everything for a while, but eventually things do get better, and they do resume regular correspondence and communication. They’ll never be super close, but they know they can rely on each other when it counts.

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plooto · 6 months

Text

it broke your heart to watch the sully family leave. there was nothing you could do to help. help their family, help your best friends, help your mate.

neteyam’s breathing was fast, uneven. he wanted to tell you everything..and yet nothing at all. he cupped your face. your union was recent, only mates for the last few moons..

“ i will come back, if it is the last thing i do, tiyawn. ” your heart pounded in your ears, tear stained cheeks speaking more volume than yours words could ever have. you didn’t want him to leave..you could bear him to. his hands cupped your face, eyes never leaving yours as he clung to this moment—the moment that very well might be the last time he sees you. he rests his forehead against yours, sucking in a breath, encouraging himself to speak he has to get off his chest—no, needs. words that were no longer able to be said tomorrow. words he so desperately needed to change the outcome of his future—your future together..

“ neteyam. ” your ears rang as you watched neteyam’s lips move, you couldn’t hear anything. not over the sound of your heart sharing into millions—no, billions—of tiny little shards. neteyam pressed a longing kiss to your lips, wishing to freeze this moment forever. to stay in here with you, to stay with you, to grow old with you. his hands lingered, his father calling him again. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, hands gliding down your arms before he turned. begrudgingly stepping to his ikran, he glanced at you one last time before flying off, following his family.

“ you skxawng. i’m shot.. ”

even with growing anxiety for neteyam’s well being, the sully family pressed on. however, quaritch was the last of their problems.

meanwhile, your heart burned, body shaking with pain as you fell over. eyes barely open, you muttered,

“ neteyam.. ”

his mother cried as his eyes fluttered open. everyone—jake, tuk, even ronal, let out a sigh of relief. lo’ak’s eyes blurred, unable to hold back his emotions anymore, he hid his face in his hands as sobs shook his form. the injury he caused.

kiri’s arms wrapped around him, “ eywa has grated us another chance with him, brother. ” lo’ak nodded slowly, the image of his hands stained with his brothers blood slowly flowing into his mind. voices, shouts filled his head, overthinking at its worst.

“ lil bro, i am fine. ” neteyam mumbled, slowly listing his arm to place it on lo’ak’s shoulder. the younger brothers eyes darted to neteyam’s, clouded with tears of doubt. neteyam’s chest throbbed, not just from healing pains, but feeling his brothers pain. neteyam pulled lo’ak in for a hug, gently, not to put a halt to healing the holes in his body.

“ i- i’m sorry, neteyam..it- it’s all my f- fault. ” neteyam choked on a laugh, wincing in pain. moving a hand to the back of his brothers head, he spoke again, sighing.

“ why must you always make things so hard..? ” he asked, tugging on his younger brother’s kuru with three of his four fingers. lo’ak hissed in return. the family laughed, relieved that their relationship has not changed a bit.

“ y’n will be happy to see you again, son ” jake rested a hand on neteyam’s left shoulder, long fingers resting at the base of his shoulder blade, giving it a reassuring squeeze. neteyam’s eyes flickered to his father, grown out braids swaying to the side as the tilted his head in confusion.

“ y’n, w- who’s y’n? ” neteyam stuttered, eyes blinking rapidly. the sullys fell silent, ronal even excusing herself to avoid the tension. the family’s silence lasted longer, growing louder as no one spoke up, too surprised from the words he just spoke. neteyam’s eyes scanned the room, waiting for someone to explain just what was happening.

“ guys..seriously, who is this y’n person? ” neytiri drew a sharp breath in, the reality of the situation finally sinking in as she glanced up at her mate.

kiri broke the silence, voice sure but wavering as she explained, “ brother..y’n is your mate back home.. ”

ext . 2

published . october 22 , 2023

#neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #atwow x reader #rae’s hiatus ⏹️#rae’s tiny thoughts 💭 // drabbles #. character // neteyam sully

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lullaebies · 2 months

Note

Aegon III/Jaehaera prompt/request: Jaehaera bonds with a new dragon (they're both teenagers in this) and Aegon tries to overcome his fear for her.

(also Aegon II is still alive because I said so)

“You don’t have to do this,” Jaehaera tells him. Her face is even but her palms are troubled, fingers fidgeting together as they enter the dragon pit.

“You will find your father doesn’t share that view, Haera.” Aegon answers. His own hands are clammy as well, his heart speeding up as the steel gates of the entrance close. It is a jest in some way, but a reminder to himself as well. Aegon the Elder had begrudgingly agreed to a betrothal between them after a long while of refusing profusely.

The many changing lords of the Small Council had been making cases for it for years on end, but it was only Jaehaera that had her father swayed. Her request was tender, one he wouldn’t forget, but her father has never been sweet on him as a good son. Trials and tribulations were due, he has known.

“If you can’t stand by my daughter's dragon, how could you stand by her?”

On one hand, he wanted to shout. He and his future good father shared a name but no favours with one another. But on the other hand, it was undoubtedly true that they share care for Jaehaera, and that he needs to stand with her in all aspects of life. His mother was a Queen, with a husband that had left her alone until she lost herself; Jaehaera will be Queen next after her father, and he mustn’t be a craven who cannot stand by her in tough times.

Jaehaera has been brave against her father, when he wanted to send Aegon to the Wall. Jaehaera had been brave against her father when she called for him to keep Viserys in the Keep when he came back, too. They were threats to her, he and his brother, as her father and her uncles were threats to Aegon’s mother.

Perhaps there was never a choice but them marrying, when her mercy has won over against a concern of another succession crisis. But his heart has chosen her at the same time, in spite of it all. Ironic and inevitable, all at the same time.

I want us to be different. I want there to be no tragedy.

Jaehaera sighs, and reaches out to hold his hand. “I am sorry. I never meant for it to hurt you. I didn't think I could claim another after Morghul, but…”

“You were happy for it,” Aegon says, not letting her finish. “You wanted it. I will not rob this of you.”

It is not as if she is never scared herself. Strange men with daggers about them had her weeping for her brother. When Viserys’s retrieval party came, gruff, burly, and roaming throughout the Keep loudly at night, she cried her panicked state into silence on his tunic.

They are a fearful duo, scared of fire and blood. But that never means they will falter at the sight of it.

Jaehaera gives one of her small, gentle smiles. “I love you.”

He whispers it back, and kisses the top of her forehead. Small, but she makes waves in him with one pip.

The voice rumbling is heard, and dragon keepers announce the entrance of a dragon. Aegon swallows, the dread setting in him. Often when he hears dragons, he feels breathless. He feels the heat of fire, and the yells return to his mind. He closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Jaehaera’s. Calm, calm.

“Lykiri,” Jaehaera calls for the dragon, but it almost feels like it is for him. Be calm. The steps of the beast soon come closer, and Aegon does feel his lash line water. His heart is thundering in his very chest.

Jaehaera inhales loudly, with him. Her breaths guide him away from erraticness in the same way his lips guide hers in every stolen kiss of theirs. It even ends the same, with her nose brushing against his, telling them it is time for both of them to open their eyes.

Aegon holds her hand as he opens his eyes. Eyes of dark amethyst open to see his betrothed new dragon.

The dragon is a dusty, greyish-white in color, with dark blue eyes to match. If Aegon the Elder’s late dragon had been reminiscent of a scorching, destructive sun, Jaehaera’s dragon had been a dim moon in the night’s sky. A tear trails down his cheek; as the dragon croons for attention, he almost reminds him of Stormcloud.

Jaehaera wipes away the tear with one palm, and uses the other one to lift his hand. Carefully; her big eyes are requesting. Aegon swallows all his fear, looking at her crinkling violets. I will not be hurt; she will not be hurt. It’s okay.

He lifts his palm with hers, reaching out to the dragon’s snout. Their hands brush through the scales together, and the dragon coos, leaning against the touch. Aegon sighs aloud as their hands keep petting it. I will not live in fear, mother. I will not live in tragedy.

“He’s… good,” Aegon sniffles out, but it’s a nearby laugh, even as his heart is still too fast-paced. This dragon had been a newly sighted dragon from Dragonstone; he hadn’t thought it would be so calm. Jaehaera is petting his hands more than she pets her dragon, and he slowly wills himself to relax, trying to focus on it. “Have you decided its name yet?”

Jaehaera smiles at him. “Yes,” she says. “I may have doomed my former dragon, naming him nothing less than death,” she says softly, and closes her palm on his. “But now I’d like to wish the opposite, for this one. For me, and for us, too. His name is Glaeson.”

Life.

Aegon allows himself a smile. They will not live in fear of fire and blood. They’ll live, overcoming, together. The dragon chirps for attention, and while Jaehaera moves her hand to pet its chin, Aegon dares to scratch his scales lightly with his index finger.

#once again alice write till 1am incredible #BUT I LOVE THIS PROMPT THANK YOU AI #aegon iii x jaehaera #jaehaera x aegon iii #jaehaegon #jaehaera targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #my fics #reqs #answered #ai megurine #aegon ii targaryen #(technically? lol)#anywayyeahhhh i love my bbies. now gn

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skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Slashers With A Strong S/O✦

✦Note; Gender Neutral Reader, fluff, no warnings! I added a few for my own enjoyment, hope you don't mind!

FOR SOME FUCKIN REASON THIS POST GLITCHED OUT HELLA HARD, SO I'M REPOSTING IT JUST IN CASE. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS I'M SORRY YOU DIDN'T GET NOTIFIED RIGHT AWAY. TUMBLR'S A BITCH

✦Michael: He/Him, Jason: He/Him, Billy: He/It, Bubba: He/They/She, Bo: He/Him, Vincent: They/He, Danny: He/They

❀Michael Myers❀

Oh, he has no idea how to feel. This is OG Myers, he's got a pretty average build. 5'10", 190-somethin' pounds. Though he has super-human strength, for some reason, there are certainly people bigger than him. He knows this...he doesn't have to like it though. He likes being this strong and imposing figure that makes hearts sink. The fact he likes you is amazing as it is, the fact he doesn't feel a little threatened by you is even more bewildering.

Do not try to pick him up for no reason/out of nowhere. Not in the beginning, at least. You don't want to push your luck. As strong as you may be, he's immortal, so he'll find a way to ensure you know your place. He doesn't like being overpowered.

That being said, there are certain scenarios where your strength comes in handy, and it's in these times he'll begrudgingly admit to himself that he likes it. For example, when he's wounded enough to actually affect his ability to walk. Don't tease him as you princess carry him, but he is silently appreciative, as embarrassing as it is.

Michael's just very aware when he's in a position that's vulnerable. He's never liked that feeling, so it'll take a long time for him to be comfortable with the knowledge that you're powerful enough to hoist him up without breaking a sweat. Give it some time though and he'll start to enjoy it. He'll never admit it though.

Don't expect him to koala you, ever. But at some point, he'll start to be okay with you carrying him up the stairs when he's hurt from a hunt, or moving him to the couch during those rare times he gets sick from his poor wound care.

All and all, he'll never admit to liking your strength, but eventually, he'll come to find it useful. Just don't push your luck. He'll still stab you if you forget his terrifying reputation.

❀Jason Voorhees❀

Well, if he likes you, he trusts you a whole lot. Jason's all or nothing when it comes to comfort/trust. This means, unlike Michael, he doesn't really have any worries or insecurities over your strength. He thinks it's rather impressive actually! Depending on your height, if you're like...under 5'8"? He's gonna be double impressed.

Living in the woods and being self-sustainable is hard work. It requires a lot of physical labor. Carrying lumber around, building things, carrying heavy metal to set up his traps, fixing up the cabins. Jason can do it with ease, but it can get pretty tiresome when that's all he does. Lugging around logs of firewood and dead bodies. A corpse doesn't pull its own weight, after all.

Having you around and willing to help is extremely helpful! He's too polite to go out of his way to ask for your help, but when you do it anyways, it makes his stomach feel all weird. What gives him the shock of his life...(afterlife?) is when you lift him up for the first time.

He lets out a surprised grunt and looks around like a freaked-out cat. Processing the fact his significant other hoisted his 6'5", 200+ pound ass right off the ground without any struggle. It makes him admittedly a bit flustered.

He'd prefer if you gave him a little warning before you do it, it kinda freaks him out when you lift him all of a sudden, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. Quite the contrary! He won't ask for it but when you lift him up and hold him there, it makes him feel safe. It reminds him of being a kid, when his mother would carry him virtually everywhere. Bringing back those old memories before he lost her is an easy way to make Jason melt.

He'll constantly worry about being too heavy, and he'll weakly insist you stop lifting him. He doesn't want you hurting yourself! Of course, you know better, and it makes his heart happy that you insist on doing it anyway.

❀Billy Lenz❀

Billy's a bit iffy with touch. Sometimes he can't get enough, other times he shuts down completely at the lightest tap. But he trusts you which means you get a pass more often. It likes your touch! Your touch doesn't mean bad things!

Billy's not very heavy or big. It's rather slim, actually. Bit of a twig, really. About 5'6", not including the heels on his boots, and maybe around 125 pounds soaking wet. Picking him up really isn't that difficult, to be honest. Still! It'll make him light up when you hold him aloft like a cat. On an excitable day, it'll squirm and giggle relentlessly.

On days where he's really not lucid, but not hyperactive either, he likes to cling to you like a koala. It doesn't matter if he's in the way, he's stuck to you for a while. It's probably the best time to cuddle it in all honesty. He won't talk much, doesn't really move either, just settles against you. Letting you be the anchor in reality so he doesn't drift off into space. It prefers that dynamic much more than panic attacks.

He tries to pick you up once and he fails, absolutely. Billy's a climber and he can hoist his own body weight just fine, but it's a different scenario when lifting someone else. Though the experience definitely makes him like how strong you are a lot more than before. Now it's twice as impressive.

Sometimes he squirms around when you lift him up. Be cautious of his legs, especially if you got a pair of nuts. Those boots are pretty damn effective at crotch shots.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Oh, Bubs is so flustered so quick, bro. Bubba is a big, big baby. Just shy of 6'6" and over 300 lbs. No one can just lift him. They haven't been lifted up since they were a kid, and even then it was rare. He's always been heavier set and his eldest brother often insisted it was a pain to lift him.

Here you come though, buff as hell, raising her off the ground like she weighs nothing. It definitely makes them all giddy. Bubba will start squeaking and squealing, flapping his hands all excitedly. Please carry Bubba like a princess, they'll swoon so hard.

It's guaranteed he'll be really worried about your back though. He's been hyper-aware of his weight for a long time, it's an insecurity they've always dealt with. All of her brother's comments definitely make her worry that you'll hurt yourself trying to carry her.

As a result of this? Carry him more, it'll make him melt completely. Go ahead and shower him with compliments while you hold him off the ground. It's the easiest way to make Bubba fall for you even harder. If y'all weren't already married, you will be now, it's sealed.

Sometimes Chop-Top & Nubbins will bother you to do the same with them. Bubba will let out little noises of discontent, they like to be the only one you pick up and carry. It's special for them! Though they won't insist you say no to his brothers, he will feel all fuzzy if you insist it's a Bubba-Only Privilege.

No matter your size, weight, or height? She'll return the favor. Bubba's used to heavy lifting, he's a butcher farmhand! It's only fair he share the experience, plus, it feels nice to have you close to him all day. Worry not about her arms, she was built for this!

❀Danny -Jed Olsen- Johnson❀

Ghostface is all over that shit man. He's so into it. If you're a victim, it's annoying, because it makes his job harder. But you're not! Not anymore, anyway, so he gets to appreciate all that strength. The knowledge you could probably whoop his ass definitely gives him a feeling of warmth in his face...and groin.

Danny's athletic and fit, but he's not Pyramid-Head levels of buff by any means. 5'11", bout 190 somethin' pounds. They're strong enough to lift twice their body weight with minimal struggle, but it's not every day you come across someone who can carry you like it's nothing.

I imagine you probably did it first in order to prove a point. Danny likes to tease, they probably make a little comment about being stronger than you, only for you to pick him up like it was nothing. It definitely catches him off guard for a bit, which is hard to do! As soon as it processes though? He's back to flirting with a smug-ass grin. He's a little shit.

After that, they'll try to get you to do it again, usually by annoying you or insisting it was a fluke and that you're not as strong as you look. It's only because he's secretly too embarrassed to admit he just likes being held. Danny's a switch and you can fight me on that. He won't admit it but he likes being carried like a pretty princess sometimes, makes him feel all cute.

One day, he'll come home all exhausted and annoyed. A day when their job was stressful, probably his coworkers being bitches, the coffee machine wouldn't work. It's times like that when he wants to go batshit crazy. Drop the Jed persona and stab everyone in sight.

They won't say a word when they walk into whatever room you're in, storming up to you at great speed. He stops right in front of you and stares at you for a bit, then after a beat of silence, he opens his arms and makes the grabby hand motion. Tips of their ears are bright red. He'll hush you really dramatically if you make a comment, but he melts when you pick him up. Just kinda chills there until the annoyance of everyday life finally settles back down. This one instance turns into a habit, for sure.

❀Bo Sinclair❀

Did someone say FRAGILE MASCULINITY?! Yeah, Bo's gonna be real fuckin' huffy for a while. Like Michael, he doesn't like the idea of being vulnerable, nor does he like the idea of his significant other being stronger than him. He's been conditioned into a traditional headspace. He's the provider! He's the stronger one! That's the rule!

It'll take a long time before he's completely comfortable with the fact he finds how easily you lift heavy things attractive. Given that's essentially the complete opposite of his usual "type". Weak, submissive, someone easy to assert power over. He was raised in a circumstance where he was always weaker, so as a result, he tries to pursue the other role. Being the strong and imposing figure.

It'll probably be like two years before you can lift him up without Bo getting genuinely upset. Doing it before then will probably lead to a fight that he'll brood over for a few days.

Man still bitches when you do it though, he just won't insist on screaming at you for hours. The best case scenario to do this is probably when a visitor goes rogue and hurts him enough to where he needs help walking. Complaining the whole time, he'll let you carry him back to the couch, as long as you ensure his brothers don't see.

Like with Jason, if you're on the shorter side, it'll confuse him. Wondering where you keep all that strength in your little body. He'll get a bit competitive, but he won't inform you that you two are competing. It makes him frustratingly turned on when he sees you toss a body like it's nothing, or lift a giant truck tire without breaking a sweat. Bo will deny it up until he literally can't anymore. He'll spill it to you but if you make a single teasing comment, he's kickin' you in the shin and storming off.

Oh, and bonus? You have a secret advantage at tapping into that well-guarded sub-space portion of Bo's brain. Just be gentle cause he is EXTREMELY fragile, a lot more than he lets on.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Well, you probably started as a visitor, which means they have to kill you. So in that situation, he finds your strength extremely aggravating. It's very annoying. But! You're not a victim anymore and so now he has no trouble admitting they find it incredibly attractive.

Between both of his brothers, he ranks second in physical strength to Bo, but that doesn't mean he's weak at all. We all saw how easily he can cut off a fuckin' head with two knives. Or impale a skull with a broken pipe. They're extremely dangerous and strong. Now that being said, you being stronger than them makes them feel...well, it makes them feel something for sure.

Lifting Vincent up isn't that hard. He's not light necessarily, but he's not that heavy either. No, it's the fact you can carry him around that makes them all flustered. It's one thing to lift someone, but to continuously support their weight whilst walking around like it's nothing? It's something Vincent hyperfixates on every time you do it.

Vincent's very touch-starved. Like, extremely. Though it makes his face burn when you throw them over your shoulder, he melts all the same. He won't actively encourage it like Danny, but he will try to subtly hint when he wants to be picked up. Hoping you'll notice the signs and do it on your own to save them the embarrassment of actually asking.

If Bo isn't around, Vincent loves nothing more than to cling to you while you do household chores. Admittedly, he gets a little too into it if you switch his weight onto your hip and hold him up with one arm. As if they needed any more confirmation that you're buff as hell. You'll probably hear them squeak and quickly try to force down the embarrassment. He's never considered himself the submissive type, somewhere in the middle instead, but you DEFINITELY MAKE THEM QUESTION.

When doing maintenance on the House of Wax, sometimes you'll lift them on your shoulders so they don't have to break out the ladder. He'll struggle to lose himself in the art of wax with your hands holding his thighs steady. And Bo never lets him live it down if the man notices just how much Vincent likes you showing off how strong you are

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Goodbye Cooking Crush

Aw man, I am so sad this wonderful little show is over. It delivered everything I needed and held up all the way through its run. Everything came together in this finale for some great final payoffs, and the characters stayed true. When we were watching the finale I said to @neuroticbookworm and @twig-tea that this show is writing porn, because all of the narrative threads build and converge in such a satisfying way. I posted a couple weeks ago that this show is exactly what you want from a good romcom, and I stand by it. Great outing for OffGun and a very rewarding show that I will surely be rewatching many times.

As expected, this week delivered a solid, nuanced ending for Ten's family conflict. I loved the way Ten sat Prem down at the family table, took the chair opposite his father at the other end of the table in a clear power move, and told him in no uncertain terms that Prem was his boyfriend and he had to accept it. And his dad did not have a sudden personality transplant; he pushed back and challenged Prem to prove his integrity. It made sense to me that Prem wanted to pay that money back; the money scam from the beginning of their relationship has been weighing on him the whole time, and he doesn't want any shred of doubt lingering over his relationship with his in-laws. My favorite part of that whole sequence was Prem's grandma finally finding out about the money and getting out her switch; this was never Prem's burden to bear alone and I'm glad he learned his lesson about not asking for help.

So Ten's dad was forced to accept Prem when he came through on his promise, and he even offered a classic Asian parent version of an apology by coming to Prem's restaurant to acknowledge him, which is more than I expected from him. My favorite thing about that final scene at the restaurant is that Ten's dad hasn't really changed and he and Ten are not suddenly getting along; their conversation was still adversarial even as he finally explained a couple things, and in the end he was left to eat at the table alone. No unearned parental 180 here. They are not suddenly a big happy family, but they've settled on a detente everyone can live with. It feels right.

And in another family drama, Fire finally found the courage to tell his mother how much she has hurt him, and after an initial rejection, she realized she didn't want to lose Fire and offered him acceptance. I would have liked a bit more breathing room in this plot because her turn felt a little too easy, but it's a side story so I get that they were time constrained. It was nice to see Fire finally stand up for her, and Dynamite begrudgingly accepted into the family. I liked that Dy's family didn't magically appear; not all families will accept their queer children, and that is the reality he has to live with. But it must have felt somewhat healing to see that happen for Fire and know he was a big part of giving Fire the courage to finally come out.

Meanwhile, the Three Must-Eat-Ers lost the cooking competition but won the hearts of many with the touching story of their final dish, and built careers bolstered by their show fandom. I was so pleased to get the flash forward to show us that Prem did get to open his chef's table restaurant, with Ten's full support (and with rings of some sort on, not sure if they're engaged or married but they are definitely committed). It was the very sweet cherry on top of the ice cream sundae of their romance. Ten and Prem, Communication Kings, are going down as one of my all-time favorite bl couples.

I am agnostic on the final Samsee/Pang reveal, given my hopes for a Samsee/Metha pairing. I'm not mad at the show for not going there--it would definitely have been pairing the spares to put Samsee and Metha together, which I generally do not go in for--and am mostly happy that Samsee found love and Metha is still part of the gang. I would have also loved to see those bullies get some comeuppance, but honestly, bullies often win, and it didn't feel like a true loss for our boys so I'm good with it. This was a solid finale for a feel good show and I will miss it dearly.

#cooking crush #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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renjunniex · 8 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

______________________________________

"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

___________________________________

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

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