#holding him NOT GENTLY AT ALL. HIS NECK WILL BE BROKEN IN 5 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelfoureyes · 1 month

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 6)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 6 Learning

Another night in bed with Alastor, but one that doesn’t feel quite right. You’re both learning about each other still. Unfortunately, it seems you’re not alone in finding out new information.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, blowjob, riding, swallowing CUM, mostly sex honestly, greenhouse , discussions of murder and dead bodies, nervous smoking, a nervous Alastor, tenderness, plants」

The tag list is broken, it wont let me copy and paste them as actual tags so I am manually adding them 😭

Minors DNI 🦌 🚘

You reached for the chain of the ceiling fan light, Alastor removing his clothes except his boxers as it was still too warm for pajamas. He pulled your clean slip from the drawer before making sure the window was locked but the curtains open. The bed softly illuminated with moonlight.

Oh no. It felt strange. You would think this was a scene you’d seen before, perhaps in a photo beside the definition of home.

“Dear?” Alastor pulled back the blanket and sheet, “Everything alright?” You arm was still extended and holding the chain.

No. I’m too comfortable here already. I don’t feel like a guest.

“Come to bed.” He patted your side of the bed. You got changed, feeling him watching you.

“It’s nice to get undressed with an audience in a…boring way.” You huffed, the ache in your feet still with you.

As you lifted your dress to unhook your garter, Alastor asked you sheepishly, “Would your stockings and garter be uncomfortable to sleep in?” You opened your mouth to answer before you realized what he was actually asking you. Fingers stopping, you let them be.

“Not terribly, no.”

When you slid into the bed in your slip and garters you caught how he grinned at you and suddenly you felt so shy. He always made you feel like it was your first time alone with a man when he looked at you with that smile, with those sharp eyes. You felt naked, deeper than just clothes.

Alastor scooted closer to you, arms wrapping around your waist and dragging you to meet him in the middle. Kisses to the side of your face until you turned, lips captured. As his hand came to your neck, large palm resting on your upper chest, you willed your heart to calm down.

His mouth was hungry, tongue reaching for yours. You tried to breathe through your nose but couldn’t find the timing. When he pulled away, your mouth still open, he let his nose rub at yours. “I want to spoil you.” His hand slid down your front, fingers making a line through the center of your torso before coming to rest below your belly button. It was more intimate than you thought he realized. His hand sat heavy. “We can do as little or as much as you’d like.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to cuddle in your fancy—,” you stretched your arms, “two person bed. Don’t worry about me.”

He kissed where your jaw ended, breathing into your ear a husky, “I don’t want to cuddle. I want to make a new memory in my home.” In truth, he was desperate to feel you still wanted him. Despite what had happened.

That was all you needed. Throwing your leg over him you straddled his lap. You reached down to make sure his soft member had room to grow. His hands came to your hips but you brought them to your face and leaned down to continue greedy kisses. Hips rolling forward against him, your little moans into his mouth earned you sighs in return.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You felt him growing under you as you rubbed against him. Catching his bottom lip in your teeth you gently tugged.

Leaning back, you took his hand and sucked one finger into your mouth. Pulling it out you added another, your teeth coming to rest well past his knuckles. A raspy groan coming from deep in his chest. Your hips kept rocking, tongue twirling as you slowly pulled him out of your mouth again. He fought the urge to say thank you.

“Fellatio, Alastor.” You maintained eye contact, hips grinding as his golden brown eyes became wide, “Can I?”

His cock was twitching against you, but you needed a verbal yes before giving it your full attention.

“I’m not a huge fan of feeling my release on my skin.” He was frowning. An honest to god frown like a bummed out child. You couldn’t help but find it cute. He was usually smirking so the frown felt like seeing the Easter bunny smoking. Just, so out of place.

“Well hun I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you.”

A gasp, he opened his mouth to say something about your unsurpassed ability to surprise him for the nth time, but his mouth had gone dry. He was sure you could feel him growing harder against the silk of your slip. He squeaked out an “Okay, yeah. Let’s try.”

You kissed his cheeks, feeling his blush heating your lips. Finally, you could be the one making a mess of the other. Moving down, you settled your own warm cheek in the crook where his thigh met his hip and let your hand lazily stroke him.

Dicks were remarkably ugly things, possibly done so animals would bury them every chance possible to avoid having to look at them. But Alastor’s cock was pretty. Tan and pink, long and slender with a slight curve up that seemed biologically strategic. It was a shame he didn’t show it off more, but that was none of your business.

“I missed you.” You cooed.

Alastor lifted his head from his pillow, he had been trying to not look at you because he already knew it would be too much. Sure enough, your barely lit face was looking at up from his lap. Eyes aglow with the dying summer moonlight and hand so tenderly touching him. What was he doing again?

Oh that’s right. You’d said something.

“Hmm?”

You kissed his tip, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

His head fell back down, making a noise that almost sounded like a word. Another peck of a kiss. Then a longer one. Your lips parted and his hands lightly gripped the sheets. Hot and wet, but a different version of wet heat you’d already allowed him to lose himself in. A firm palate and soft tongue running past his head and down his length.

For the life of him he couldn’t understand why you wanted to do this. The truth was you were already soaking through your panties, his little hip ruts and sharp inhales going straight to your core. You’d never wanted to please another person so much in your fucking life. Pornography made sense now, you’d pay to see photos of him spread out with a lusty face. But luckily your cost was minor, an express ticket to hell.

You took him down to the base before lifting your head again.

“I want you to make the pace.” You brought his hand to the back of your head. His normally sharp features now soft and squiggly. “Fast or slow, little bit or all of it, you can stop me entirely whenever you want.”

His hand was riding your head as you bobbed on his cock. Tongue running along the underside, pressing up as you moved. A muscle twitched in his thigh which you found impossibly arousing. Every time you took him all the way into your mouth you couldn’t breathe and it only made you think of how deep he’d reached inside you before.

Doting on his swollen head you licked his leaking precum from the slit. The look in your eyes promised to devour him as you sucked in your cheeks and made shallow moves, letting your hands slide down his shaft and balls. The weight of them in your hands had you twitching around nothing.

Alastor’s breath was rough and strained, but his moans soft. You released him with a pop.

“Alastor.”

His eyes were focused on the ceiling, fingers stroking mindlessly at your hair. “Yes?”

“Are you not comfortable with moving my head? You’re just petting me. We can stop or—?”

Alastor let his hand come down to your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, “No, no I don’t want to stop,” the look in eyes made you believe that. “I don’t know how to set the pace. You just want me to move your head? I’m not used to this and my brain is completely empty. Tell me plainly what you want and I’ll do it.” It sounded like a plea, almost begging for you to give him instruction. Because he was. He was pleading for you to tell him how to make you happy in new ways. “I want to do it.”

Plainly? Okay. This was one area of life you could manage to be completely straight. “I want you,” you kissed the tip of his cock again, “to guide my head on and off your cock,” a kiss down his shaft followed by another, “until you come in my throat.” You kissed the dark hair around his base, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of his manhood. “I wanna do it at your speed.”

A whimper, his dick bouncing up with a twitch and hitting your cheek, “Fuck.” He nodded, “I won’t last long when your mouth is so skilled verbally and physically, my dear.”

You hummed as his hands guided you back down, was this still letting him take the lead? The lines were blurred of who was leading who. But that was fine, maybe two people could move forward in tandem.

It made your pussy clench with a need to be filled when he finally pressed your head all the way down. With some difficulty you kept your teeth from scratching him while hollowing your cheeks again.

Hands busy cupping and caressing his balls, you let him quicken his pace.

A pleasant surprise as his hips began to buck up with his increasingly strident groans. You moaned around his cock, taking quick breaths through your nose whenever you were pulled off before his thrusts and pushes choked you again. Your eyes were watering, glossy as you tried to focus on his face. Looking down and across his tightened stomach his eyes met yours. The way his mouth was open was one thing but the moan of your name as his eyes lolled back made you feel feral.

You shifted your hand to pumping his unsheathed length faster as he focused on his head hitting and sliding up the back of your tongue. You were confident he was almost at his peak. Seeing his eyes roll made you hungry to bring him to orgasm. The characteristic lost rhythm of his hips was a dead giveaway as much as the slowing of his hand bobbing your head that you were on the right track.

When you rolled your tongue Alastor loudly moaned in earnest, he seemed caught off guard by the sensation and his own response. The sound made you whimper around him. You wanted to make him make more sounds. More glimpses of him enjoying himself without restraint.

“My love… please,” he sounded like he was holding his breath, “Can I?” He felt insecure, he’d only entertained fellatio twice in his life and both times he found the sensations bordering disgusting and the aftermath humiliating. One partner dribbling his cum back onto his stomach, the other spitting it into his handkerchief. No one seemed happy with any part of it. But your mouth didn’t feel wrong. No part of you made him feel like a chore. Nothing about you ever made him feel put up with, instead in that moment he felt like you enjoyed him. He felt delicious in your mouth.

One hand on the back of your head pushing your head down onto him quicker as he was just at the cusp, the other where your jaw and ear met lifting you off him slightly slower to languish in the drag of your tongue over his cock.

You hummed an affirmative and braced yourself, a thick and salty shot of his release hitting the back of your throat with force. You took him down to the base again, swallowing around his head as much as his size allowed. He hissed, hips rising off the bed. You didn’t stop swallowing despite his whines and spasms, shoulders jerking up and off the pillows as he folded in over your head. The silence of the night interrupted by his overstimulated gasps spilling out around you.

Only when he stilled, body no longer twitching as he lied back down, did you let up.

He was almost scared to look at you. Flashes of a long forgotten face of disgust behind his eyes.

“Alastor?” Your voice was so sweet, more so than usual. He dared to look.

A smile that reached your eyes. No mask, no grimace, no disappointment.

“You okay, doll?” You took his left hand and kissed his palm before setting your cheek against it. “Was it too much? Uncomfortable?”

What a silly question. He was the one who pulled you into murder, who left you vulnerable to dangerous men, who hadn’t ever considered how loving someone like him could put you at risk of terrible heartbreak. You had never been too much, he was the one spilling out of his canvas and staining you.

“We don’t have to do that ever again, okay?” You kissed his hand again, misreading his face entirely. Odd, you were usually so keen to the finer details of his mood. But when it came to sex, to his preferences, you knew you were better left always giving him room to ask for more, not less. Never make him need to ask you to stop. Never push past an absolute certainty of comfort, or put him in a position where he felt obligated to continue.

You’d decided some time ago you’d close your legs for good if it meant sharing a blanket with him. Your list of needs were rearranged the moment he pushed you into that bathroom, not that had known at the time or that you’d admit it was so early in your meeting.

Alastor smiled, finally, “No, it wasn’t.” While it wasn’t his favorite way to spend his time, he didn’t hate it. He wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was obviously inexperienced or embarrassingly quick. His eyes did that thing again, flitting around your face like he was reading a difficult but intriguing book.

You moved your body up to rest flush against his chest with your own. Silk slip cool on his heated skin. “I am very grateful you let me indulge myself, but,” a kiss to his chest before smiling back at him, your feet kicking up and knocking the blanket off, “Don’t push yourself, baby.” Your finger traced little circles on his chest.

He sat up. Slightly caught off guard, you did too. From the shadows of his bed you couldn’t see it before, but as he kissed you in an almost frantic succession of lips crashing into yours you pulled away to look him in the eyes. Blown out pupils shining back at you again. He stole another kiss, you not noticing his hand coming to his lap.

“I want to go at your pace now.” When he attempted another kiss, a pleasure soaked sigh stopped him. Your eyes traveled to the busy hand between you both.

“You can ride me, I’ve been selfish these last few times.” his hand was stroking himself, trying to get as hard as he could without getting too close to cumming a second time.

Even in the dim light he could see your face clearly, partly why he didn’t remove his glasses yet. You looked genuinely concerned. His free hand’s index finger and thumb came out almost like an upside down finger gun, a promise, “I want to feel you come undone around me.” You hooked your index with his, thumbs touching. It almost made a heart. “You can use me as you need, I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

You’d accepted him but he wanted more. He wanted you to need him. He’d be happy with just a night of neediness, really. Just confirmation he could keep you happy.

A blush spread up from your chest. There wasn’t anything to say. He left no room for doubt with his purposeful request. Leaning back again he slid a hand between your thighs and into your underwear. “Oh, you really did enjoy yourself didn’t you?” He brought his shining fingertip to his mouth and let those love affected eyes take you in as he licked his digits clean.

Unkindly beautiful. He was upsettingly ethereal beneath you, skin a glow in a way that rivaled the sun’s own bloom. His soft hair uncharacteristically messy, glasses fallen just a bit down his nose. The usually confident and sure Alastor was demure and needy between your legs. You’d never seen him look like that, even the first time was a different sight.

How lucky you were to get to devour him twice in one evening. You lifted yourself up and kept your eyes glued to his face as you pulled aside your panties and filled yourself with him.

A moment of pause when you bottomed out, letting you both adjust. A confession of his own, “I’ve never let anyone on top before.”

You tightened around him, “You skipped straight to eating women out in bathrooms?”

A quick correction by him, “Not women. A Woman.”

You tightened again, knees riding up over his stomach. “Well, I hope you’ll trust me with every first.”

Fighting the urge to bruise your ass on his hips, you took a gentle pace at first, knowing he’d just orgasmed minutes before. He was still sensitive, evident from his hisses and jerky movements with every bounce. His mouth was hanging open again with already heavy and loud breaths, eyes glued to watching himself disappear into your cunt.

Leaning down, you switched to rolling your hips front and back and kissing at his clavicle. You worked up his neck, pausing to whisper an ask, “Does it hurt?” into the bruised skin of this throat. He said it was fine so you continued kisses up and then along his jaw. When his mouth reached for yours you dodged and kissed his nose. Another whiny whimper, hands rubbing down your hips and running over the place your skin met your stockings. His fingers ran up the straps of garters and back down again.

You kissed his cheeks, then the corner of his mouth. He looked at you like you were hurting him, like it pained him to not have your mouth on his. A moan pulled his expression from torture to ecstasy.

Alastor felt good, his ego unfurling in his chest with the sight of your pleasure. It was as if he were being worshiped and in worship of you at the same time. Your kisses were an offering, his moans a prayer.

No one had ever doted so sweetly on him during sex, perhaps he never let them. The very notion briefly floated by of past lovers kissing at his neck and it just as briefly made his skin crawl. Though he deeply enjoyed kisses when everyone was dressed.

Much like small beds, affection was made comfortable by your presence. He wanted to be possessed by you. He felt he would be stronger somehow if he was wholly yours.

Resting your forehead on his in the most loving act you’d ever offered a man during sex, you used his shoulders as a sturdy support to resume riding him in earnest. A workout you actually enjoyed, lifting your weight off of him and making a controlled descent to impale yourself again and again on his heated member. His swollen tip was sliding past your g-spot but it wasn’t hitting it as hard as you needed. But before you could move, you felt Alastor bring his arms up.

He used his hands like you’d taught him and grabbed the back of your head to bring you into a kiss. Lips on lips, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth.

You broke the kiss to sit back up, giving your thighs a burn as you tried to create enough friction to build up your orgasm.

Often times you closed your eyes during sex, not because it just felt so good, but because you didn’t know where to look that wasn’t terribly uncomfortable. But not now, your eyes were locked on Alastor’s, every time he bit his bottom lip and every furrowed brow sent tingles that rolled down your shoulders , slipped along your ribs and settled in your stomach.

You didn’t want to blink and risk missing a single reaction. The soft slap of your ass on his lap became more obscene as you got wetter. Slippery was the best word for it, Alastor trying to compare your mouth to the feeling of your twitching cunt. As you moaned his name and clenched around him, he knew he liked this more. Your mouth was free to make pretty noises for him. Sounds that made him twitch in you.

How you could be so soft and yet gripping him so tightly he couldn’t understand. He began to realize how little he understood about any of it. Normally not actually paying attention this much during sex, but he let deeper thoughts go and just focused on the way you looked riding him.

A moment shared between you both as your eyes caught again; static shock without the contact.

“Could you cross your legs? At the ankle.” You reached around and made sure his still heavy balls were safely above his legs. Alastor did it without asking questions.

You needed a new angle, but there was no way in hell you’d turn around. Leaning back with both hands on his thighs, you could angle his cock head to graze that bundle of nerves his hands worked so well in the past. Heavy breaths morphed into deep moans as you worked him into that spot repeatedly.

When you let a hand come forward and flick at your clit you had to sink down onto him, unable to keep your body up the same way. Shorter movements but a quicker pace to match your finger. Alastor tore his eyes from yours to watch your hand work, studying the way you moved so he could master pulling orgasms from you with his own.

Quiet, so softly you gasped and mewled as you quickly raised the tension in your lower belly. No more lifting, no energy or focus to offer, just grinding against him until you felt that snap of pressure and your muscles rolled around his cock. Alastor was quick to watch your face as he recognized the spasms making his thighs twitch again.

As your orgasm waned, the pleasure dying, you felt a clarity you couldn’t before. You looked down over Alastor, and found yourself worried. A small sense of dissatisfaction. You couldn’t put your finger on it so you let it go. Learning about Alastor carnally would take time, and you needed to allow that to happen naturally.

He was the one who suggested it, but it didn’t feel as satisfying as before. Even with his orgasm, you felt like you’d gotten more from the interaction. And you weren’t sure what that something was or what that meant. The feeling in the air the first time wasn’t there now, and you weren’t sure why. You planted a kiss on his lips, trying to feel if anything was missing. His lips moved against yours and his hands rubbed at your thighs. He felt just like Alastor.

“Feel good, my dear?” He didn’t open his eyes, instead kissing you before you could reply. You hummed into his mouth.

“I feel good anytime I’m near you.”

The right answer.

His smile widened, “That’s all I want.”

With a deep sigh, you unseated yourself and lied back in your spot. Your slip was sticking to your skin in various places from sweat, it was uncomfortable but you were too tired to even ask him about showering. He took off his glasses and rolled to face you so you rolled too.

Lying there and looking at each other, Alastor’s eyes adjusted to the shadows to see your face. “I feel like…women often over-act during sex. You don’t though. Or you’re a great actress.”

You nodded, “Yeah I can see that. I definitely have. Also I’m a performer, professionally.”

A nervous smile spread on his face.

“I actually really hate touching you.” You laughed. Alastor placed his hand on your shoulder and you faked a gag, “Disgusting. So strong and yet soft. The worst.”

“Unfunny.” Alastor quoted you.

“No, I don’t do that with you.” Your hand touched at his, “Lots of other people though. I guess we feel like we have to make the guy feel like he’s doing well.” You hadn’t thought before speaking and suddenly worried you’d said something unattractive. There was a relaxation to the way you were talking with him that reminded you of being backstage at the theater.

“I have definitely been on the receiving end of that.” Alastor grimaced, “Feels like making someone a meal you don’t even like, just for them to pretend to eat it and hum loudly with every fake bite. Why push for sex and then just pretend.” Alastor mimed bringing a utensil to your mouth, “Here’s that fried catfish you love darling.”

“Lostsa reasons. And I hate catfish.”

He dropped the fake fork, “Thank God for that, catfish is disgusting.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you just jumped into the fear, “Did it bother you, when I said ‘lots of people’ just now?”

“Why would it?”

You reached out and touched his cheek, “Just checking. Tell me about your day. If I fall asleep it’s a compliment to your voice and not an insult.”

It had been a boring day, save for his worry about you seeing his home. He rambled about work as boringly as he could until he heard the soft and deep breathing of a sleeper. And then he told you about how he cleaned, and changed the bedding, about how he swept the porch and stared into his fridge.

When he ran out of details, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The sound of your breathing was a new noise for his room. It was nice. His hand slid under the sheet until it found one of yours. It didn’t take long for his mind to settle and for him to fall asleep.

And then his eyes opened and it was bright in the room. He was on his side now, facing away from you. Alastor wondered if he was asleep still, but your breath behind him was evidence enough this wasn’t a nightmare. He was awake. He’d slept through the night without a terror or stressor plaguing him for the first time in, well, he couldn’t remember.

But the torment waited for him to awaken, a tinge of embarrassment washing over him from head to toe like a chill. Had he asked you to ride him? To use him? What the fuck was wrong with him? He was mortified, pulling the pillow over his face. He hadn’t even been drunk. He sounded like some horny teenager desperate to be touched. Not at all what he had been hoping to convey.

He managed to hide it well enough, through breakfast and to the patio where he could finally put his attention fully on something else.

“This is where I bring the bodies.” Alastor walked you to greenhouse doors. “There’s no one in there now. But,” he cleared his throat, “You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I’ll never have you help with this part.”

You looked at each other, his eyes taking in the places where you’d been bruised before. Bruises he could still see in his head. Your eyes staring at the blooming purples of his neck. You hadn’t seen them before, his normal collar hiding them well enough. But he wasn’t headed to work yet, so you got see him in a clean white t-shirt tucked into his usual pants. Only he could make that look like a state of undress.

You jiggled the handles, looking past the hardwater stained glass to barely visible green beyond, “If you don’t unlock this door right now I will break in.”

Alastor laughed, pulling the key he’d grabbed earlier from his pocket.

You considered making a joke about your skills with rocks but thought better of it.

When the doors opened, you were surprised to see plants.

Not because they were in there, but that it was all you saw. Alastor walked past you and to the left, “Most people naturally turn right when they enter a room. Buys me a little time just in case someone comes in.” You followed him past long and tall shelves of various potted plants and flowers.

“And most people would consider a shed more suspicious than an all glass greenhouse. Nothing nefarious about glass. The plants help obscure the sights and the hard water takes care of the view from ground level.” He pointed up and over to the house, “You can see it perfectly well from the second floor.”

“Aren’t you worried about neighbors?” He turned right to step through some plants then stopped in front of a large metal table.

“Nearest neighbors are at least several acres away on all sides, we don’t interact.” His finger slid across the clean and shining surface, “Dismember, drain, back in the car to then disappear them far away from here.”

Your short heel sank down into the dirt, a memory of Tommy at better times taking your attention away from where you placed your weight.

“The ground soaks up the water and blood. Bugs take what I miss. And it stays pretty warm even in winter, so the ground stays soft.”

Morbid. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t morbid as your eyes sank to the soil beneath your feet. Turning around you looked for anything out of place. You saw gardening supplies like shears, axes, hand saws, tarps. Plants everywhere, pretty flowers and small trees. It was a very full but very normal greenhouse. Approaching the table you lowered yourself to look underneath. Empty clay pots, bags of dirt, seeds. Clean and dry.

“It looks like a functional greenhouse.”

“Exactly.”

“No I mean— it, not a single trace of,” you searched for a good word, “impropriety.” You’d heard that shouted at you before. “Even the plants are cared for. How much time do you spend keeping this room perfect? When do you sleep?”

His head tilted, “I don’t sleep much. So, I have time. The long nights are just the ones when I have someone in here.”

“I promise my praise is coming but first — Alastor.” You stood, “Ya know you could have just slept last night. Like, a full night's sleep. We didn’t have to stay up. That’s two nights already you barely slept. On top of…years? Of this?”

A suddenly nervous energy, Alastor’s hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away. Oh no, that was a first you hadn’t considered.

Had you been too harsh? Sounded too much like nagging wife? You felt like one.

“Sorry. It’s not my place to speak on.” You sighed and set your hands on the waist height table. His back must hurt, he was so much taller than the table, he must be bent over quite a bit when he worked. You couldn’t stop imagining him, tired and hunched.

Alastor came to stand beside you, hands mirroring yours, “No, that’s exactly it. It’s become your place, hasn’t it? But I’m still acting like I’m alone.” You bit your tongue. “Yes we should have slept. I was tired. But, you did a lot recently. For me. Selflessly.”

Ah. His fingers on his left hand intertwined with your right, eyes searching for something in the scratched grey blue of the workspace.

“I want to provide for all your needs.”

A tinge of fear again ran through him. He needed you to need him. So you wouldn’t leave. He wanted you to see how he could give you everything.

You could have screamed in the best way, somehow feeling a spark in your lap, provide for you? Why did it sound like an act of service when he said it and not a threat to your autonomy?

“You’re already giving me so many things I need. Phone calls in the morning and kisses after work. Respect for my job and myself as a human, not just a woman. Your voice when I’m falling asleep,” you cleared your throat now, too saccharine of a speech already, “Someone to lick the blood off my face. An alibi. That kinda stuff. Ya know?”

“I’m not joking.”

The muscles in your back locked. You gripped his hand, you could feel him staring at the side of your face but didn’t want to see what expression he had. Unfortunately he knew you too well already.

“Look at me.”

Your natural reaction to being given an order was to do the opposite. But you couldn’t muster the petulance. You finally turned to look back at him.

He’d never looked so serious. Eyes brighter in the sun than you’d remembered them being bore into yours. Locked, you were frozen in his stare.

A deer in the headlights.

He wasn��t studying your face this time, he was staring into. Not through you, no, you could feel his gaze being soaked into the back of your skull.

“I’m learning. Be patient with me? And you can tell me when I’m fucking up. I want it be our places in each other’s lives.”

“Al-,” it came out a squeak, you tried again, “I’m not either. Joking, that is.” His intense look was blinked away. “I need all the little things most. I can’t get them from anyone else. I don’t want them from anyone else. The tender kisses, the hand holding, cuddling. I’m terribly happy.” A tentative kiss to his nose, “But I need you tiptop. Sleeping, eating, human things like that. Let me help you balance things. I want to provide, too.”

Arms snaked around your waist, forehead to forehead, his smile grew, small but still a welcomed sight as always, “Can I have that praise you mentioned earlier now?”

You nodded, listing all the brilliant ways he protected himself from detection. A long form good boy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Across the parish and downtown, a nervous woman fidgeted in a worn wooden chair. She had been woken up by a loud knock at her door when she was still sleeping off her late night.

“I thought this was all done with. Did you really need to drag me down here? Not a big fan of flat foots. You understand.”

He sighed, placing his hat on the empty chair beside him. His partner would be there if his partner was aware he was even doing this. But they had already written him off as obsessed with nothing, “Of course. Just finishing up some paperwork is all, miss. So, not a single enemy? I hear he had debts.”

“Well I mean,” her high pitched voice somehow creeped up into even higher an octave with her nerves, “We all had guesses but, no, never seen him fight with anyone except a dancer here and there. Mean right hook, that guy. I’m glad he’s gone. I hope he’s dead.”

He perked up, “He hit on ya’ll?”

“Once in a blue moon. But he really let Autumn have it before he up and left. Never seen him that mad before. She was bruised up for like a week after.” She ashed her cigarette in the bowl on the table between them, “He wasn’t normally like that. Just when girls refused dates. And Autumn really wasn’t playing along, if ya know what I mean.”

Detective Brady leaned over the interrogation table, “What dates?”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl , (50)

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel

712 notes · View notes

demonvibez · 11 months

Text

Showering with Lucifer

·Characters: Lucifer x GN! Reader

·Word Count: 1100+

·Rating: Mature/Explicit (Minors DNI)

·Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Smut

·Tags: domestic fluff, mentions of reader being sick, gender neutral body parts, oral sex, penetration, mentions of fangs and marking

·A/N: was gonna write this for all seven demon bros but I got carried away with Lucifer's part! Lemme know which brother/dateable you'd like to see in this scenario next ♡

Typically, Lucifer prefers to use the shower over taking a bath

Most of the time, he gets down to business in the shower; no time to dawdle about with distractions, he has a schedule to adhere to, titles to maintain and a House to oversee.

Very thorough, he has his showers down to a 5 minute routine in a very methodical order

He has always used the same set of products he enjoys, originally a gift - a Dragon's Blood bath set given randomly by Lord Diavolo; it works for him and he thinks it smells nice, so why mess with perfection?

However, things started changing the closer your relationship with him grew

At first he didn't really care to shower with you because he often didn't have the time and thought it would be more efficient to shower separately

One evening you find yourself feeling rather sick, which prompts Lucifer to insist on looking after you in his room, despite you already being comfortably curled up in your own bed

"If anyone is capable of bringing you back to health, it's me," he said with his arms crossed, his usual air of arrogance lingering around his words

He gathers up a few of your things and put them in the empty backpack hung on the back of your closet door, before slinging it over his shoulder and scooping you up in his arms

Of course he could keep a better eye on your condition in his room, safely tucked into his silky soft bed sheets

As he watches over you, shock and concern paints his features as he notices that your condition continues to get worse

You're running a fever that needs to be broken, so he draws you a bath and tends to you personally

Sat behind you in the tub as he leans you against his bare chest, he gently washes your hair with his shampoo, making sure to be careful as he rinses everything out, softly running his gloveless fingers through the strands

His gentleness to you while you're in such a vulnerable state brings the two of you even closer together than before, emboldened with a new sense of trust and familiarity

After that, you find yourselves becoming increasingly inseparable, which naturally results in you sleeping in his bed and using his shower quite often

Several of your favorite bath products now line the walls of his shower

Some random weekend mornings his hair will smell like your conditioner, and it will give him the most smug of grins for the entirety of the day

He's even more smug and prideful when you are the one wearing his scent, though

He usually tries to stay on task when you shower together, making sure you're both completely clean from head to toe

There are many nights, however, in which he finds himself unable to reign in his urges - to hell with paperwork, he'd rather lose himself in you right now

He lathers his body gel down your body, his hands caressing each of your curves slowly yet firmly as he further commits them to his memory, watching as the water cascades down your body to rinse the suds away

His lips trail soft kisses down your jaw, his fangs lightly nipping at your neck as he hungrily makes his way down to your collarbone, a mark or two of his slowly blooming across the surface of your skin

He continues his way down your body, briefly stopping to swirl one of your sensitive nipples around his eager tongue, before continuing down to truly taste you

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you up as he helps himself - lapping and sucking away at your sex, pushing you closer to your first orgasm with each deliberate stroke

Your hands can't help but to slide to his crown, gripping onto his horns in order to keep you grounded in reality as you try your best to keep your eyes locked on his

His crimson eyes gaze up at you as he worships every inch of you, and every drop of your sweet nectar on his lips fills him with a sense of pride that only your pleasure can bring, both of you riding those feelings into the stratosphere

After bringing you to climax, he pushes your leg down and slides up your body, hooking and holding your leg around his waist as he uses his other hand to line himself up with you

He slowly begins to push himself inside of you, strained groans splashing off the walls with the shower's rain as he gradually slides himself deeper

You feel so good around him that he can't help it when his wings unfurl the moment he finally sinks all the way into you, the last thread of control he had finally unraveling

He sets a slow and steady pace as he pours every ounce of passion into each individual thrust, his hand gripping your thigh as his thrusts slowly start to pick up in pace

And every thrust fills you with more and more pleasure, building up inside of you, the crescendo threatening to erupt at any moment as your eyes roll into the back of your head - you hear him whisper your name

"Look into my eyes…" he said in a husky tone as he put a hand on your sex and overstimulates it as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm growing erratic as he pushes you both over the edge into pure bliss

He locks his lips to yours as you both ride that high, wanting to make the moment last as long as possible

Even as you try to gently pull away from him, he whispers, "just a moment longer, my love," as he slides his hold around you just a bit tighter, a small laugh escaping your lips before you steal another kiss from him

As you wrap up your shower together, he helps rinse you off one more time, before offering a hand to help you out of the shower and wrapping you in a warm, fluffy towel

He dresses you in one of his bathrobes before setting off to grab you a set of pajamas, trying his best to hide his smirk when he returns with one of his own shirts and a half assed excuse - you knew you had an extra set in his bottom drawer, but you didn't even hesitate to grab his shirt and throw it on

Once you finish your routine, you both crawl into his bed

You find yourself in your natural place, snuggled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around you

As you both begin to drift off into slumber together, he presses a kiss to the top of your head

"I love you so much," he whispers, "sweet dreams, my little lamb."

And with his final thoughts of the night, he can't help but to think how much better you make even the tiniest aspects of his life, a smile on his face as sleep finally takes him

- demonvibez ♡ - likes/reblogs appreciated - do not repost! -

2K notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 8 months

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 5

WC:1063, Masterpost

CW: dissociation, self esteem issues, (past) dehumanization, referenced torture and experimentation

Danny flinched, again.

He felt bad for it, Red Robin was being as careful as possible sliding the rubber fabric between the collar and Danny’s skin, but it was just that having hands on the collar like that freaked Danny out. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the numbers of pi. He used to know over a hundred of them. Now he was only certain of about seventy-six or so. There were a lot of things that used to be so much clearer in his memory than they were now.

“Just the overlap now,” Red (the others just called him Red), said.

He flinched again as Red pressed lightly against his neck to overlap the fabric, but the hands pulled away after.

“Do you need a little break?” the other one, Nightwing, asked.

“No. I just want this off, please,” Danny begged. He had gotten used to begging in the last year. Years?

“We’ll get it off,” Red said confidently.

Danny tried to trust that. He kept his eyes closed.

A gloved hand slipped into Danny’s, giving him something to cling to other than the sheets. Danny recoiled at the touch at first, but when the hand started to pull away, Danny twisted their fingers together and held on tightly. He didn’t open his eyes to see who’s hand he was holding.

As Red started to work on the collar, Danny couldn’t help but tense. He’d been shocked by it so many times. He was like Pavlov’s dog, collar and all, he thought bitterly.

“Almost there,” Red warned.

Danny could tell the instant that the seal of the collar was broken. It was like moving a limb that had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles were everywhere, inside and out. It was agonizing.

It was a relief.

A damp cloth was dabbing under his nose.

He blinked rapidly and Nightwing came into focus. The hero looked so concerned.

“Wha…” Danny croaked.

“Nose bleed,” Nightwing explained. He folded the cloth and set it aside.

Moving slowly (though Danny still struggled to follow the motion) Nightwing reached out and places his hands on either side of Danny’s face. Gently, he tilted it this way and that. “You didn’t exactly lose consciousness, but you… went somewhere else.”

“I do that, I think,” Danny said. The hands started to pull away and Danny swayed after them. One returned to help keep him upright. Danny’s eyes fluttered closed. “It was easier… to be away than there.”

The thumb stroked gently across Danny’s cheek.

He could feel himself tearing up. When was the last time he had been touched with kindness? Why was he now? They didn’t know what he was, that’s why.

“You’re safe here, I promise. You don’t have to go away anymore.”

Jason looked up from the cutting board when Dick came out of the bedroom. Dick did his best to offer his brother a smile as he took a seat on one of the slightly rickety stools at the kitchen counter.

“How is he?” Jason asked. He had swapped his helmet for just a domino. (To Dick it was a pretty clear sign that Jason has already claimed the kid as theirs.)

“Better. The nose bleed stopped and he was fully conscious again,” Dick said. “He says he does that, goes away like that. It sounds like it was a defense mechanism for whatever those bastards put him through.”

“Fucking hell,” Jason muttered.

“Yeah. I’ll let the others know so that anyone looking over him knows to watch out for it. Especially if anyone takes him out shopping or anything…”

“Right,” Jason said with a grimace, clearly picturing how badly that could go.

Dick just gave a little nod. He dragged the table that Tim must have been using close and opened it to check on the rest of the family.

“You, me, and Cass?” Jason asked a few minutes later.

“What?”

“One of us three should always be here, right? Or Babs if we move to a different safe house.”

Dick hummed thoughtfully. “There’s something to be said for moving safe houses if the kid plans to wait awhile before wanting to see Bruce.”

This safe house was bearable, but it really was one of their worse ones. It didn’t even had a table to eat at or a television. They could deal with the one bedroom and a couch, but Dick got the feeling there would be a lot of Bats stopping by whenever possible and that it wouldn’t quite cut it.

“We can see how Kid is tomorrow after rest and food,” Jason said. “If he’s up to being in a car with us we can easily move to any of them.”

“Maybe the one on Rosserie Street?”

“Which one is that?”

“Upper East Side.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jason said with a little nod, pushing the things off his cutting board and into the large pot on the stove. “That one would work. More space and better stuff.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Dick said. It was one of their apartments set up for a long term hideout if one of them was too injured to be seen in public or supposedly out of town as cover. “And big enough beds people can share.”

Jason snorted. “I’ll stick to the couch. The demon brat kicks.”

“Do you think he’ll stop by?” Dick asked as he picked at the thick rubber case on the tablet.

With a heavy sigh, Jason crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Yeah, I think he will. I think he’ll need to, for his own sake. I’d rather it be when you were here, you’re the only one of us who can really control him if he gets… territorial.”

“He’s been better,” Dick pointed out.

“This is different and you know it. This is blood, even if it’s green. Hell, it being green might actually make it worse.”

Dick groaned and let his head thunk onto the tablet. “Yeah… I’ll talk with him and try to get B and A to also.”

“Yeah,” Jason said and reached over to pat Dick on the back.

Why did being a the oldest have to be so exhausting? And now there was another one. Not that Dick would trade any of them away, but he could really use a vacation, a drink, and a long nap.

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.

---

AN: Dick really really wants to hug Danny but is really really afraid of scaring him. Don't worry, he'll get hugs.

#dp x dc #city pigeons #batpham #trauma tuesday

1K notes · View notes

aphrodisiaxcunt · 2 months

Text

Fading echoes Finale

Keegan x GN!reader

Helping Keegan relax a bit as a way of bringing your relationship back closer together..🤭

Content: Finale, soft smut, cock suckin', fluff, happy ending, mention of past trauma and therapy

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, this is FINALE

If links dont work use masterlist

Keegan red, reader green

Word count: 991 Reading time: 4-5~ mins

After the crying on your hallway floor, you two decided couples therapy would be good. At first, Keegan thought it was all stupid - the tasks and games you'd have to participate in each session. However, it began to have a positive impact. He started to feel better, and your relationship started to improve. Recently, Keegan had become more clingy and protective of you, always keeping his arms around you, whether you were asleep or awake. As long as he is in the same room, you can feel his arms tightly wrapped around you. A couple of nights into the therapy sessions, you'd noticed his night terrors. Every night, they'd progressively get worse, and your worry for him only grew each time. You couldn't do much in that situation. Just let him work his way to you. One time, you had tried to wake him up, and he had nearly broken your nose. Today, though, today was a calm day. Neither of you had work, no chores to do, and almost half of the day had already gone to just laying in bed together. Keegans arms per usual wrapped tightly around your waist as he drew circles with his fingers against your lower back. Your head laid calmly against his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heart against his ribcage.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart.." his quiet voice above your head breaks the silence, moving his hand up your back to pull you closer to himself. You shake your head a bit against his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him in response to his embrace. You didn't blame him, of course you didn't blame him. You had also been close with a couple of the men he knew who had sadly passed away in different fights. "It's okay, I understand.." Your voice is soothing and smooth like honey, your hand tracing gently up and down his spine. You heard a shuddering breath escape his throat as you did so, tilting your head back to take a look at him blushing. "Fuck-.." his small mutter of a cuss was easy to translate. You couldn't deny that it had been a while since either of you had any kind of release.

You sat up and leaned down to kiss Keegans neck, his body automatically turning onto his back. His hand caresses your thigh as your lips work their way up to his jaw. His fingers dig into your thigh when you lift up his shirt to kiss his chest and down his torso to his lower stomach. "Baby- hah-..please.." he can't get much out from his lips, his whining like music in your ears when he begs for you. You start to gently palm his hard-on through his grey sweats, and his back arches off the bed in a desperate way of seeking more contact. More quiet whines fal from his lips, and you hush him, planting a track of gentle kisses along his happy trail. You slowly pull his sweats down to free his cock, Keegans hand coming up to his own face to cover his mouth.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, holding it up to your lips before kissing the tip carefully, kissing your way down the side of it and licking your way back up. Keegans breath hitches in his throat, and his neck tilts back, eyes closing as you take his attention deprived cock into your mouth. The taste isn't unpleasant. You've never been one to prefer blowjobs but if your partner, the love of your life, really needed it.. there's no issue in your eyes. Looking up at his flushed face from under your lashes, you start your careful work on him, making sure your teeth don't graze him and pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock.

His free hand takes a grab on a fistful of your hair, not forcing your head down on him but more of a support for him. Your eyes lock on his beautiful face as you take more of his length down your throat and slowly bob your head on it. His tongue seems tied, not being able to say anything except for small babbles and attempts at praise. You take a deep breath through your nose, trying to keep your eyes open and focused on him as you bottom him out to the back of your throat, holding a gag reflex down as you do so. He lets out a gasp before turning his eyes to you, seeing warm tears form in your eyes from suppressing the gag reflex. His hand leaves his mouth, cupping your cheek and wiping off the tears once they fall down your face.

"Careful sweetheart, no need to take the whole thing.." his voice is more collected now, guiding your face a bit up so you're not suffocating yourself on him. He mutters out more praises when your tongue slides up over his tip, closing his eyes and caressing your cheek lovingly. "You're doing so well.. I'm so close, baby.." he groans, you close your eyes and turn all your attention and focus on getting him over the edge. He grips a bit more onto your hair, pulling you off of his cock before cumming onto your face. Your head jerks back a bit, and you open your eyes in shock. Immediately, you turn your look back onto him, mouth slightly agape from the bitter surprise on your face. His mouth curves into a teasing smile as he starts laughing, chuckling out apologies as he wipes your face from the mess.

After getting your face cleaned and washed up, you're back cuddling in his arms. He still lets out small chuckles when he remembers your shocked face, and each time he laughs, he places a loving kiss on your forehead as an apology. There's still a long way ahead for you two and your relationship, but there's no other way from here than up.

■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■☆■

FINALLY, I am done with this, I'm so sorry I took so damn long I was stuck forever on how to finish this finale and then I fell asleep last night, I hope this was a satisfying ending to this fic and I'm so thankful for all the love this series got :3

If yall want more stuff my requests are open and my instagram @aphrodisiax_tumblr will have updates on upcoming fics!

75 notes · View notes

brbsoulnomming · 9 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 14

-----

Everyone does end up having to go home. Except him, obviously, and Steve, whose house Eddie has learned he's apparently going to be squatting in until they can figure out a way to clear his name.

Is it squatting if he's invited? Eh, whatever.

Nancy and Robin swing by to drop off the prescriptions they'd picked up for Eddie. Both of them linger, long enough that Eddie thinks they might just stay - kind of wants them to stay, torn between wanting to be alone with Steve and not wanting to be alone with Steve.

Robin hugs Steve really tight, and he folds her up in his arms and holds her close, just staying like that for a long, long few minutes, talking so quietly they can't be heard. Nancy takes both their hands and squeezes when they're done, and surprises Eddie by giving his hand a squeeze as well. Robin looks like she kind of wants to launch herself at Eddie and hug him, too, but she settles for ruffling his hair, and then grimacing when her hand comes away grimy.

He laughs at her, and they promise to check in tonight, then they both leave.

Mrs. Sinclair comes to pick up Lucas and Erica and Max, and Eddie stays out of sight with his heart hammering in his throat, but they don't venture beyond the front hallway. Eddie can't quite make out what she says as she picks them up, but her tone is low and worried, and there's an underlying note of a familiarity, a gratitude, as she speaks briefly to Steve.

Eddie wonders, again, how long they've all been doing this. How many times their parents have worried about them, how many times Steve has apparently brought them home safely, looking beat to hell.

Mrs. Henderson is much louder when she comes to collect Dustin, though she doesn't go into the living room either. He can hear her fussing over the bandages around Steve's neck, asking how bad it is, sounding only mildly reassured when he tells her that it wasn't as bad as Starcourt. She asks him to come stay with her and Dustin, and Eddie thinks he can hear something like longing in Steve's voice when he declines, promising to come to dinner next week instead.

Then it's just him and Steve.

Steve collapses on the recliner, tipping his head back. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the long line of his throat, the stretch of tendons and muscle broken up by white gauze.

His mouth goes dry.

"I've got a guest room ready for you upstairs," Steve says.

His throat works as he speaks, and it takes Eddie a moment to process it.

"Fuck," Eddie mumbles. "Stairs, really?"

Steve laughs softly, tipping his head back up. "Yeah. It's got an ensuite and the bed's decent, we can set you up a lot better in there."

Eddie swallows. He wants to ask why Steve's doing this for him, but he's a little bit afraid of the answer, so he just makes an exaggerated whine of complaint.

It works to make Steve chuckle again, at least, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll be glad once you're in an actual bed. Look, I'll get you some food and your next dose of meds first, just hang tight for a bit."

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, but honestly, Steve's probably right. He must doze off a little, because the next thing he knows, Steve is gently shaking him awake, helping him sit up, and giving him something.

"What's this?" he asks, blinking blearily down at the bowl Steve handed him. It kind of looks like chunky baby food, though it smells pretty good.

"Oh, uh, frozen shepherd's pie," Steve says. "Not a lot to work with right now, we'll have to see about a grocery run soon. But I figure it's probably at least better than snacks and hospital food."

Eddie shrugs. "Not exactly a picky eater over here," he says as he digs in.

It's warm, and tastes a hell of a lot better than it looks. Like meatloaf and mashed potatoes all mixed up together, all hearty and comforting.

"S'good," he mumbles around a full mouth, prompting Steve to make a face at him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, gross," Steve bitches.

Eddie feels compelled to stick his tongue out at him, still with some mashed potato remnants stuck to it, and Steve rolls his eyes.

"You make this?" Eddie asks, once he's swallowed the rest of the potato.

"Yeah." Steve scratches the back of his neck, just above the bandage. "Sometimes I'll freeze up smaller portions if I make something big, so I have stuff to grab when I'm in a hurry. Or when I've got recuperating metal-heads in my living room."

Eddie huffs a little laugh. "That a common occurrence? And here I thought I was special," he teases.

"You're something," Steve returns, though the grin he gives him is wide and fond as he reaches for the prescription bag Robin'd dropped off, pulling out the pair of bottles within and reading them over. "You're not due for your antibiotics yet, but you can have the pain meds."

He opens the bottle up, then pauses, frowning down into it. "Did they give you the wrong prescription?"

Ah.

"No," Eddie says, feeling exhausted.

"But we have the same meds, and mine is like. Four times this amount, even though your injuries are way worse, infection aside," Steve says, looking back up at him with his brow furrowed.

"They said it's because I left against medical advice."

Steve snorts. "That's a load of crap."

Eddie sighs. "What do you want me to tell you, Steve? You know what my side job is. The whole town does. Every time I go to the ER for something, to them, I'm just drug seeking."

Steve looks stricken, and god, Eddie's not sure he can take any well meaning pity right now. He kind of wants the couch to just swallow him up.

There's just silence, though, and then Steve's jaw sets in determination. He gets up, leaving Eddie floundering a little and staring after him as he walks into the kitchen, returning with a bottle that looks almost identical to the one Eddie was given.

He sits back down, popping them both open, and promptly tips his bottle to start dumping his own pills into Eddie's.

"Whoa, hey, what the fuck!" Eddie struggles to get up without hurting himself or dropping his bowl, gives up, and tries his best to glare at Steve from his position on the couch under the blankets.

"You need them more," Steve says stubbornly. "It's not like I'm going to take them, anyway."

Fuck, that's worse than pity, and Eddie feels his blood boil.

"No, of course not." Eddie sneers. "Is His Majesty above such petty things like pain? Would he rather muscle through on sheer meathead determination than turn to drugs like the lower class?"

Steve goes very still. "Do you really think that?" he asks quietly.

Eddie opens his mouth to snap that he doesn't have to think it, that Steve just showed him it, but - he looks at the expression on Steve's face instead, how it's gone closed off but it isn't hard, isn't angry. It's just blank. Abruptly, Eddie feels wrong-footed, like he'd fallen back on old habits and responded as the guy everyone thinks he is, to the guy he used to think Steve was.

"No," he says, just as quietly. "I don't really think that."

Steve's frozen exterior melts a little, and he shakes a pair of pills out into his hand, holds them out for Eddie to take. Eddie does, swallows them dry, and shovels another spoon of shepherd's pie into his mouth to keep it occupied. Steve looks like he's thinking about something, and Eddie doesn't want to risk saying something to throw him off.

"It's not that I'm trying to muscle through," Steve says, apparently coming to a decision. "I was drugged last time we dealt with Upside Down shit, it was a whole thing." He waves his hand. "I was high as hell for some of what was going down, and it was. Not a great time."

Eddie tries to imagine fighting off the demobats while drugged out of his mind, and goes a little pale. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Steve says. "I can't really do anything stronger than alcohol or the occasional joint now."

"Fuck," Eddie says, softer and with more feeling. "Jesus Christ, I'm such an ass, why do you even like me?"

Steve opens his mouth, and Eddie flails, slapping his hand over Steve's mouth before he can say anything.

"Nope, nuh-uh, this is an apology, not a ploy to get you to say nice things about me," Eddie insists. "Okay?"

Steve's laughing at him, he can tell just by his eyes, but he waits until Steve nods before he pulls his hand away.

"That's not what I think of you," Eddie says again. "I got defensive and lashed out, and it wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

The laughter in Steve's eyes fades, and he looks - caught out, all surprised and vulnerable, and he's staring at Eddie with something like wonder.

It makes Eddie squirm, feeling both like he doesn't know what he did to get that look and like he never wants it to stop.

"Thank you. Apology accepted." Steve's quiet for a moment before adding, "I'm sorry, too. I could tell you were upset but you didn't want sympathy, so I just."

He shrugs, and Eddie's going to press him more about what he just, but first - "You could tell?"

"Yeah. Your face does this thing - you're usually so expressive, but you just kind of shut down, like you're resigned."

Oh. Fuck. He hadn't realized Steve noticed him like that, and he focuses really hard on the other thing he wanted to push about to avoid thinking about it too much. "So you just?"

Steve gives him a crooked little smile. "Jumped to fixing it. Robin says I have this thing, where if someone I care about is upset and I don't know what else to do, I try to fix it. But sometimes how I try to fix it and what they want are different things."

Eddie's mouth opens, and before he knows it he's said, "I'm okay with that."

Steve blinks at him. "Really?"

Eddie'd shrug, but he's not sure his shoulder - or his entire torso - is up for the motion right now, so he just tries to look as casual as possible while half huddled on the couch, in hospital scrubs. "Yeah. People don't try to fix things for me, not unless it's my uncle. Might be kind of nice."

"Oh." Steve's got this look on his face like he doesn't know what to do with that - maybe he hasn't gotten many people who let him try to fix things for them.

Which, fair enough. Under any other circumstances, Eddie'd probably be one of those, just - he doesn't think he's lying, even not touching the fact that Steve hadn't reacted to what he said. "I'm probably going to be a dick about it when I'm not recovering from being half dead, though," he adds, just to be safe.

Steve snorts. "You've met just about all of my friends, man, that's nothing new. Usually I do a decent job at figuring out when they're just being dicks and when I'm actually going too far, but they're good about telling me when I don't get it right. They do it when I'm being too much of a dick, too."

"I can do that," Eddie decides. "Tell you if you're going too far."

He probably shouldn't make decisions right after leaving the hospital against medical advice, but screw it, he's doing it anyway.

"Okay," Steve says after another moment of consideration, then narrows his eyes at him. "I'm still taking a rain check on telling you all the things I like about you. It's getting to be kind of a long list."

Eddie gapes at him. Fuck, he can feel his cheeks burning, and he really hopes he can blame it on the bite wounds or the pain meds.

Hopes Steve won't ask, because he knows that would be a lie.

"Go away," he says, curling over his bowl so he doesn't have to look at Steve. "Let me eat my luxury baby food in peace before I have to drag my ass up all those stairs."

Steve laughs at him again, but it isn't mean, and he does leave, heading upstairs to - Eddie doesn't really know what Steve Harrington does with his free time when he's not ripping apart demobats or complaining about babysitting, actually.

Huh.

He thinks he might like to find out.

He shovels the rest of his shepherd's pie down methodically, then sets the bowl down on the coffee table and eyes the stairs. Despite his earlier words, he's pretty sure there's no way he's going to make it up them on his own. He pulls in a breath and lets it out, then calls, "Hey, Steve?"

Steve emerges almost immediately, a couple of towels tossed over one shoulder and an armful of plastic bottles. "You done?" he asks, tromping down the stairs.

Eddie eyes him. "What's all that?"

"The hospital did a pretty good job at getting most of the Upside Down grime off of us, but I thought you might want to wash it out of your hair," Steve says.

And fuck, yeah, Eddie really, really wants to - it's not just Upside Down grime, honestly, what with the whole being on the run for a week thing, and it just feels gross. Still, Eddie grimaces.

"Not, uh. Not really sure I can stand up long enough," he admits. "Plus I'm not supposed to lift my arms that high yet."

Steve's ears turn just a little bit pink, and Eddie struggles to keep his expression neutral, not to let his eyebrows raise up or to lean in too hungrily.

"I can wash it for you," he offers. "The laundry room's got a pretty deep sink, and I can pull up a chair and have you lean back a little."

He looks so fucking earnest that it makes Eddie flounder a little, once again having to restrain himself from asking why. Why is Steve doing any of this? Is it just because this seems to be what he does, because he thinks of Eddie as part of their Upside Down fighting group now and is focused on taking care of a party member? Were the handful of stolen moments during all of the fuckery and in the hospital real, or is Eddie just fooling himself that this is something he could actually have?

"Yeah," he says before he even realizes he's agreeing, while his thoughts are still a tangled up mess. "Appreciate it, man."

Steve shoots a smile at him. "Gimme a sec, I'll be right back."

He disappears down the hall for a few minutes, then comes back to help Eddie up. It's slow going, with Steve taking most of Eddie's weight, but he knows it's not going to be near as rough as the stairs will be, so he tells himself it's a practice run.

There's a low backed chair pulled up in front of the sink when they get to the laundry room, a folded up towel already pillowed on the edge of it. Steve guides him to sit down and tilt his head back, neck cushioned by the towel and hair spilling into the sink.

And then -

Fuck, Steve is close.

He's been close before, obviously, he let Eddie get all up in his personal space when they were walking through the Upside Down and he leaned over Eddie's shoulder a few times to watch what he was doing, and Eddie's literally been leaning on him to walk since he got here, but - with all of that, there was something else going on, some kind of other purpose or at least a buttload of pain he was trying to ignore.

Sitting like this, Steve leaning over him as he fiddles with the knobs to get the water to a good temperature, he's just close. Eddie can feel the body heat coming off of him, and he can count every freckle and mole on Steve's forearms, where he'd pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He's not trying to look, but he can still see the scrawl of writing that disappears under the sleeve of his left arm, can just make out I don't think. He can hear the heavy beat of his own heart and the way his breath quickens, and he forces himself to breathe slow and even, trying not to draw attention to it.

Then Steve's fingers are in his hair, gently sweeping it all together as he starts rinsing it out.

"Shit, man, this might take awhile," he says apologetically. "The water's coming out as black as it did for mine, and I've got less hair."

Eddie hums noncommittally, afraid if he says anything he'll end up telling Steve that's fine by him, they can stay like this all night if he wants to. There's the sound of a shampoo bottle opening, and on his next breath in he's hit with the scent of something, he has no idea what, like a honeyed summer day, all sunshine and sweet and clean.

And then Steve's hands are on him again, fingertips rubbing small circles over his scalp, blunt nails scratching in just the right way to send shivering goosebumps down his spine.

He's not proud of the way it makes him fucking whimper, but mostly because the sound prompts Steve to freeze.

"That hurt?" Steve asks softly.

"No," Eddie manages to get out. "It, uh. Feels nice."

Nice is an understatement, but not a lie, so it's the best he's got right now. It makes Steve continue, at least, so Eddie's taking the fucking win.

His eyes slide shut, and he thinks he might drift off to sleep right there if it weren't for the fact that he really wants to cling to how fucking good this feels. God, he can't remember the last time he felt a physical sensation that wasn't pain or discomfort, and he tells himself that's the reason that this is making him react so strongly.

No one's ever done anything like this for him before. No one's ever wanted to, even before the murder accusations, and between the exhaustion settling over him and the pain meds kicking in and the euphoria of feeling good - Eddie's dangerously close to begging, here. To saying please, just, please can he keep having this, please can this mean something, can this be because Steve wants to and not because he feels obligated.

"You okay?" Steve asks quietly as he rinses Eddie's hair out, and starts lathering up for a second wash.

Eddie hopes it's just a general are you okay, in light of the whole everything, and not a specific hey you look like you're going through something right now. Doesn't actually matter, he guesses, because he still has to say something, and he doesn't know what to say that isn't a lie or isn't something that's too much.

"Haven't, uh. Haven't had anyone do this before," he admits, because that seems like the safest thing to acknowledge.

He thinks what he means by this was pretty obvious, but apparently not, because Steve gives a thoughtful little hum.

"Take care of you?" he asks, cradling Eddie's skull in his hands so delicately it makes him want to weep.

Or shove him off and run until he can't anymore, but that's not any better.

"Fuck, Steve, not holding back any punches here, huh?" he asks, his voice a little raspy.

"I mean. We almost got eaten by demobats together, and we're in kind of a bathroom. That's prime bonding time, for me."

Eddie'd shake his head, but he doesn't want to do anything to dislodge Steve's hands, so he settles for heaving a pointed sigh. "No, Steve, people haven't been lining up to take care of the freak. It's not like I need it, anyway."

Steve makes this little sound - Eddie's not sure he's even aware that he does it, really, but it's like the verbal equivalent to rolling his eyes. "Everyone needs it, sometimes. It's okay to want that, especially after all of this. This isn't the first time some of us have stayed together in the aftermath."

"Yeah? Who looks after you, then?" Eddie asks.

"Robin, usually, sometimes Dustin. Why, you volunteering?"

He can't see Steve's face, but he thinks that was probably meant to come out as teasing. It doesn't quite land there, though, a little too soft, a little too genuine, and it makes Eddie swallow.

"Maybe," he says, feeling his heart beat in his throat.

"Oh," Steve breathes out, his hands stilling for a moment.

Eddie fights not to open his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, a little too carelessly, fingertips scratching back over his scalp again. "I look after you, you look after me."

That's not quite what Eddie meant, but he doesn't know how to say what he meant, so he just says, "You don't have to. Take care of me, I mean. Just because you think it's okay to want to be taken care of, you know, it doesn't have to be you."

He waits for Steve to point out that Eddie'd just said that no one else was lining up for the job, maybe make a joke about how it's him or nothing.

Instead, Steve says, "I know. I want to."

Fuck.

If this is the way Steve always is, Eddie can see why so many girls were into him in high school.

When he's reasonably sure his voice isn't going to shake, he says, "Thanks, man. For - all of this."

He's kind of worried Steve is going to tell him that he's doing it because he wants to again, but fortunately that seems to be enough talking about not quite emotions for both of them, because Steve just hums as he starts rinsing Eddie's hair again.

Eddie lets himself relax, sinking into the soft, floaty feeling that wants to pull him down, and just enjoying the feel of Steve's fingers in his hair, the edge of pain blurred and fuzzy from the meds, and finally, finally feeling like maybe he's safe.

It takes another round of lather and rinse for Steve to be satisfied with how clean his hair is, but Eddie sure as hell isn't protesting. Time kind of slips and wobbles, anyway, as he doesn't doze so much as just fucking melt into the chair and under Steve's hands, like all the tension from the last week plus is oozing out of him. He thinks Steve murmurs something about conditioner, but he honestly doesn't care, as long as he can keep sitting here like this.

Eventually, the water's shut off, and Steve's tilting his head up, draping his hair over a towel and gently scrunching it before wrapping it up.

"You awake?" Steve asks, voice a little sing-song like he's teasing.

"Depends on how you're measuring awake," Eddie mumbles back, not entirely sure he managed to get all those syllables out in the correct order.

Whatever he says, it makes Steve laugh softly. "Come on, Munson, up you go. Let's get you to bed."

Eddie's hindbrain immediately takes over, and the next thing he knows he's saying, "Fuck, yes please, finally."

Fortunately, Steve seems to take his eagerness as an eagerness to be in bed in general, and not in Steve's bed specifically, because he just says, "You gotta stand up for that."

Eddie whines, and Steve's hand on his elbow where he'd been tugging him to get up slips, and Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide.

Steve's staring back at him, and holy shit, Eddie might be high on pain meds and a boneless mess from what was basically a head massage, but he knows what desire looks like, knows Steve's eyes are probably a mirror of his own right now.

Then Steve's eyes are closing, and he visibly shakes himself like a fucking dog, before his hand finds its spot on Eddie's elbow again, nice and firm.

"Steve," Eddie murmurs, even though he knows he's missed his moment to speak, because Steve is already guiding him up and wrapping his arm around him to help him walk.

"Not too far, Eds, I promise," Steve says. "We'll be there before you know it."

"Steve," Eddie says again, and this time Steve pauses, swallowing once before he looks at him.

Steve's arm is still around him, and he's so close they're practically breathing the same air - so close he can see the flecks of hazel in Steve's eyes, see the way his lashes brush against his cheek, and Eddie -

He doesn't want to do it like this. Eddie knows he's pretty far gone right now, a little floaty and a little loopy, and he's honestly not sure what words he can even get out of his mouth, let alone if he's going to remember this tomorrow.

"This is gonna have to be mostly you," he says, not letting himself think about how it could mean more than one thing. "I'm barely standing after that, let alone navigating stairs."

Steve laughs softly, steering him out of the laundry room and towards the stairs. "Long as you keep your feet on one side of the steps, you'll at least have one up on Henderson last time I had to help him up the stairs."

"No promises," Eddie replies, but that does make him look down at his own feet, trying to be careful and deliberate about how he places them as they slowly make their way upstairs.

With the meds, it doesn't hurt as much as it probably should. It mostly just takes so much goddamn effort, feels like walking through jello, and Eddie's not ashamed to admit he's breathing heavily by the time they make it to what must be the Harringtons' guest room.

It's… well. It's boring, honestly, minimally decorated, but the bed looks huge and insanely welcoming at the moment, all the blankets turned down and the pillows carefully arranged to resemble the way he'd found was the most comfortable at the hospital. The lamp on the nightstand is glowing softly, and there's a glass of water and Eddie's bottles of pills next to it.

Clean clothes are laid out on the bed - a pair of black boxers, black track pants with a white stripe down the leg, and a dark blue Henley.

Another lump forms in his throat, and he swallows past it as Steve points out the door to the bathroom.

"I'm just down the hall," Steve tells him.

Eddie manages to mumble out a thanks, and only stares at him a little as he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Honestly, Eddie's too fucking exhausted to sort out anything about anything right now, so he just shuffles his way over to the bed. He strips out of the hospital scrubs, leaves them in a pile right where they fall, and struggles into the clothes Steve's loaned him.

Like the stairs, it doesn't hurt, but he knows that doesn't mean he can risk overdoing it. He's careful, moving gingerly to pull the shirt on and sitting on the bed to step into the boxers and pants. Then he collapses back, tugging the covers over him. His head lolls to the side for a moment as he stares at the lamp.

If he's honest, his decision to leave it on is part that it feels like too much effort to turn it off, and part that he's not sure he wants to be alone in the dark right now.

Maybe in a bit, he thinks, but he's asleep before he can think anything else.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 15

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie soulmate au #soulmate au #stranger things fic #this is pretty much entirely hurt/comfort #steve taking care of eddie #i'm so weak for this trope

276 notes · View notes

bendydudeinc · 1 year

Text

Hello, it’s bendydude absolutely wasted and thinking about Atsushi in heat and fucking me senseless with the prompt “keep your eyes on me.”

Inspired off of:

Please bear with me uh

Atsushi x AFAB nonbinary reader

Warnings: smutty smut smut breeding kink, praising / I have a voice kink, …..slight daddy kink? I get called baby, mutt I think, and shit something else accidentally just deleted it

Not really proof read !

I claw onto his back to try and ground myself, legs locked at the ankles around his waist and head thrown back onto the pillows. I’ll probably be sore tomorrow from all the manhandling. He snaps his hips harshly against mine in response, growling quietly in my ear. He trails his fangs teasingly over my neck, letting the tips drag into my skin and leave red marks, then, sinking them into my skin. He had summoned his tigers arms and legs to give him more control and power behind his thrusts, and man forgets his own damn strength I stg. He grips my hips hard, keeping me at that angle that makes me start to cry from how overwhelming it is, his cock completely destroying my insides. He gasps, letting out a loud choked moan, crying into the crook of my neck as he cums hard inside of me, slamming his hips against mine one last time and growling as my walls clench around him. I lost count how many times both of us had cum after 5.

And oh man- his beautiful sounds and whines-

“F-fuck yeah! *pant* Take it! Take my cum! gonna- *pant* fill you up baby…fill you up so pretty..”

He has the tiger dwelling inside of him to thank for his almost unnatural stamina during heat. He kept his dick inside of me, definitely not done yet. He watches with a grin as I pant and tremble, legs feeling like they might just fall off. And just when I think I may be getting a real break, he sees the mark he left on my neck with his fangs, and lightly runs his finger across it. I whimper his name in broken syllables, eyes glistening, and he goes crazy again. I gasp and whine in overstimulation as he slowly starts to thrust again.

“Jus- one more? Please baby~? G-gotta, ngh! Gotta make sure you’re nice and stuffed~”

He bends me so my back is arched farther, and I swear I mewl at the way his dick nudges past what I thought possible. My eyes roll back and close in ecstasy. A deep tone from Atsushi snaps me back to his gaze as his thrusts become frantic yet again. His tiger claws dig into my thigh and his other hand grips my chin to make me look back at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” His yellow eyes glow, staring deep into mine, as if reading my soul. I nod, liking the idea of seeing my boyfriends feral expressions as he fucks me full. And that, he does. His cock twitches as he grabs both of my legs, pushing them up slowly to the sides of my head and thrusting again before I have time to be surprised. We both cry out in pleasure, and he smirks as he watches my face contort in bliss.

But oh, HIS face would be magnificent.

He whimpers again and again through clenched teeth as his eyebrows furrow in. He rests his forehead on mine and moans out, cursing loudly. He’s close again. He starts a brutal pace, gripping my ankles tightly and practically folding me. My gaze turns hazy as I stare up at the pussy drunk man in heat above me. I feel my face turning red as we make the lewdest faces at each other. The quick, slap slap slap slap of our cum meeting between our hips being the only thing almost as loud as our moans. He hisses, holding onto his orgasm and snaking a hand down, rubbing a pad against my clit. Im seeing stars, screaming as he forces me to continue facing him when we cum together.

We’re both a panting mess. He’s collapsed on top of me, giving his tiger form a rest as I plant a kiss on his nose, cheek, and forehead. Then, one gently on his lips. He smiles softly, staring down at my lips before capturing them in a slow, passionate kiss that has me squirming under him.

“Fuck. Kiss me like that again and we’re going again honey.”

I grin, “I think we both know we’re going again anyway.”

#atsushi x you #atsushi nakajima #atsushi smut #bsd atsushi #atsushi x y/n #atsushi headcanons #beast atsushi #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #Spotify

297 notes · View notes

paintedstories · 11 months

Text

Apocalypse

♥ song of the story OWN MY MIND -maneskin

gif from @yonglixx ⚠: mentions of zombies: mentions of blood and death; mentions of Felix killing zombies; mentions of his family being dead(I'm sorry 🙏 its for the plot); mentions of readers family being dead(sorry again) ⚠: can be considered a fluff story if you don't mind the theme ⚠: Survivor Lee Felix x Survivor fem reader (she/her) ⚠: In this AU skz doesn't exist, meaning, that Felix doesn't know any of the members.

panting could be heard from the girl hidden in a long ago abandoned house.

"ahh, shit-" she breathed under her breath, exhausted from running, punching, and killing all day. She started searching carefully throughout the house, carefully to not make too much noise, walking and finding things that might be helpful. After putting all the things she found in the middle of the room, things such as cans of fruits and food, screwdrivers, knives, soap, and ladies' necessities, she decided to choose what she exactly needed and go on a run outside, maybe find some abandoned shops or hopefully a pharmacy, as she was in a new city.

while walking she stumbled across an alley and decided to go in it to rest, as she did not see or hear any of those horrifyingly disgusting creatures she sat down close to one of the big metal trash bins, fortunately for her, it did not smell that bad, as it has had not been used for at least 5 months. while she carefully opened one of the food cans she found, she suddenly heard something, or rather someone walking. Scared she rapidly put the can down and got up with her knife to kill who was coming next.

"hey- woah, woah, mate slow down, I'm peaceful!" he whisper shouted while putting his hands up making her put the knife down and look at him with a serious face. "I'm warning you if you try stealing from me, I won't hesitate to murder you," she said sternly while sitting down and starting to eat from the can. But he continued staying on guard next to her. "what are you doing?" she looked at him weirdly but he doesn't say anything, only smiles and sits next to her, after approximately 2 minutes the hands him the other half of the can that she didn't finish intentionally. "eat" she said not looking at him. "woh thanks!" he exclaimed and smiled brightly "didn't eat something non expired in ages haha" her face fell after hearing that. How, how, what happened here. she thought while slowly peeking to look at his shadowed dirty face. poor guy was all she could muster in her thoughts. "want more?" she looked at him while handing him another can, now with a different type of food. " no, no, I can't, it would be too much! I don't have anything in return!" he said while shaking his hands showing that he meant it. "No, really take it, I have more, found a house, 30 minutes away, very quiet no monsters, and it has a lot of food. maybe you would want to come with me, you know, two is better than one," she said while scratching her back of the neck.

"Really?- are you joking with me? because if not I'm coming!" he smiled while sitting up and holding his hand to her. As she took it, first time making skin-to-skin contact with the stranger she felt a spark in her heart and worms in her stomach, no she felt butterflies, she shacked her head gently and started to walk a little bit in front of him to lead the way.

On their way to the house, they chatted and found out that his name was Lee Felix, an Australian. They encountered 3 zombies too but decided to just run off, as it was night time and they wouldn't be seen.

Arrived at the house she shows him around, and he helps her to patch the broken windows and unnecessary rooms.

While searching for a good room Felix found a basement, the basement of the said house, deciding to investigate right then, as it was night and the zombies were mostly asleep and easier to kill. Big luck for them was that inside was only one, a guy, the owner of the house they declared. After y/n killed it and Felix helped by dragging it outside the house in front of the yard and throwing it on the fence, as protection from other fellow zombies, because if they smelled the blood of the said zombie on the fence they would pass the house and not get in even if heard any sounds from inside. Of course, it would smell bad but good thing that the smell didn't get too close to the house.

After rearranging the whole basement, meaning, getting all the things in the living room, then putting on a big bed for two inside the room, of course, cleaning it very well. They might have been in the apocalypse but to be clean still helps. good thing the basement was as big as the house, large enough to put some of the kitchen and bedroom furniture down, creating a little house, sadly inside the basement was only the installation for water, not the toilet too, so the bathroom remained inside the house. Not too big of a problem as the house looked like it never been touched by the filthy hands of those zombies.

"few, we're finally done!" Felix said happily while slumping on the bed."ey get your dirty butt off the bed, you need to change and shower....." she realized that the water from the bathroom didn't work anymore, only the one in the basement, the reason being that the installation was made so that water will work even without electricity, but that only in the basement. " haha shit, we got to wash with cold water" she sighed as she plopped next to the bed resting her back on the bed leg next to a now floor sitting Felix. "haha jokes on you, not washing with cold water" he laughed "then sleep on the floor"

hey, hey, hey! my cherry's hope you liked this story if you want part two ✌ tell me master list 📃 feel free to request your deepest desires!

166 notes · View notes

jadedrrose · 11 months

Note

congrats on 800! you deserve it, you write law so well!

5. with law would be so cute omg

“Don’t Go Without Me. Please”

Thank you so much! I think I made this a little more angsty but the ending is cute, I promise! I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: g/n reader, totally sfw!

Tomorrow, Law would be dropped off at Punk Hazard and you’d have to say goodbye to your lover, for an amount of time you didn’t even know. It could be months, he’d said to you.

Currently, the crew had a very somber goodbye party going for their captain. You couldn’t bring yourself to join them, however, as the dreadful thought of being separated from Law replayed in your mind. You were in his room, laying on his side of the bed, crying. You couldn’t even remember how long ago you’d gone in there. All you could think of was being away from him, all alone and how your anxiety would only amplify as soon as he stepped foot off the submarine. How could you not worry, being away from him for months and months, with absolutely no way to contact him?

The sheets were balled up in your fists, and you laid on your side, nose buried in the pillow that smelled of your lover. It was pathetic, honestly. That you already missed him so much that you wanted to only be surrounded by his scent.

At this point, your tears were drying up as you started calming down. With your mouth hung open as you softly breathed, you stared ahead at the wall, desperately clinging onto hope that he’d change his mind. But you knew he wouldn’t.

It was then that the door to the bedroom opened, startling you. You raised your head up, and the tears came flooding back, stronger than ever, as you saw Law standing in the doorway, looking heartbroken at the sight of you.

“Y/n… have you been down here the entire time?” He asked, voice heavy as though he was going to break at any second.

You could only nod, confirming Law’s suspicions. Not wasting anymore time, he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt off, climbing into the bed to hold you.

Your breathing heightened as you felt his warm arms wrap around your cold body, his breaths falling hot against the skin of your neck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come down here sooner,” he whispered directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. God, you’d miss his voice.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, closing your eyes before more tears came running down. “You should’ve spent time with the crew anyway, since you won’t be seeing them after tomorrow.”

“By that logic, I should be spending more time with you then.” He responded, one of his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into your arm.

“You spend every night with me, already. And then whenever we see each other during the day, so what’s it matter?”

Law sighed, understanding that you were simply distraught over his departure and not at all trying to upset him. He hugged you closer, gently squeezing your body against his own.

He hadn’t realized it for a moment, but you’d started crying again, which developed into your body trembling in his warm hold, quiet, broken sobs leaving your reddened lips.

“Y/n…” he whispered your name, turning you over so that you’d face him now. As Law pressed small kisses to your forehead, you could feel his goatee brushing against your nose. Another feeling you’d miss.

“Law,” you cried, biting down on your lip as you clawed at his skin, wanting to hold onto him forever so he couldn’t leave you.

“Don’t go without me. Please,” you begged, voice weak and hurt as you spoke through your tears. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous. I can’t be away from you for that long.”

Law seemed a bit taken aback at your words, but he considered them. To tell the truth, he’d been hurting just as much as you were. Though he was better at hiding it. Law thought about it, thinking that you could be helpful on his journey, but ultimately, he was scared about your safety. That he wouldn’t be able to protect you.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“I won’t.” You said, a bit more harsh than you’d intended to. “I… trust you. I know you’d do anything to protect me, and I’ll do the same for you. I’d rather fight alongside you and even die together than be far away on Zou, having no idea if you’re even alive or not.”

Law kissed you again, and you shifted your head backward to be able to look into his gray eyes. The sight devastated you. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, eyes darkened and glossy as tears threatened to spill. He was barely holding it together. For Law, this was extreme.

You nearly cried again, but you didn’t, forcing your puffy eyes shut before looking at him again, determined. “I’m going with you. Whether you like it or not, Law.”

He then nodded, as much as he could being laid against you and the bed, though. “You’re coming with me,” he repeated, a small smile forming on his face.

You grinned in return, connecting your lips with his, silently thanking him for listening to you. Law’s arms wrapped around you even more tightly, holding you as close as possible without suffocating you. You did the same, one hand landing in his messy raven hair that you began to play with as your kiss continued. With how physically close you were right now, it became evident that nothing could rip you and Law apart from each other.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #law x g/n reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece x reader #jadedrrose 800 event

168 notes · View notes

sturniolo04 · 29 days

Text

Gaming Chair M.S.

Bf!Matt x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which Matt punishes Jess for being a brat

Jess: Matt please! I cant take it anymore

she whines. Matt is sitting in his gaming chair at his computer with his dick inside her. He pulled her onto him when he sat down again.She complied thinking he was going to let her ride him while he plays, Was she wrong.

Matt: No Jess. I need you to be an compliant cockwarmer and sit still

he says as he continues playing as she leans forward placing her head in the crook of his neck. Her head spins looking at Matt diligiently playing his game not giving her any attention whatsoever. After 5 mintues, she's on the verge of tears.

Jess; you know what i dont care. what's the worst he can do?

she thinks. she raises her hips up and lets herself sink down onto him. Matt lets out a quiet groan. She continues riding him at a fast pace but suddenly Matt holds her waist forcing her to stop

Jess: Baby please

She moans out, tears threatening to fall for the denial of attention and pleasure.

Matt: Get off

he says as she looks up at him confused

Jess: Huh

Matt: fucking get off and lie on the bed

he repeats, his voice sounding threatening.she gets up quickly, whimpering at the feeling of being empty. she settles on the bed and waits.

Matt gets up from the chair pulling up his sweatpants

Matt: fuck that was hard

he thinks to himself.Having Jess riding him and moaning into his ear almost mad him break but he has to teach her a lesson. As he walks into their shared bathroom and opens the cabinet under the sink, he pulls out a vibrator and handcuffs. he gets up and as he's walking out of the bathroom he hears moans coming from the bedroom. He spots Jess on the bed fingering herself at a fast pace.

Jess: Matt Please

she begs

Jess: i need you to fuck me

her broken moans almost get to Matt but he manages to control himself. He walks over and cuffs her to the bed frame. A smirk appearing on Jess' face, thinking he's finally giving in. but she feels him push the vibrator in

Jess:Matt wha-whats that

she asks

Matt: since you wanted to be a fucking brat i decided to punish you

he says smiling darkly

Matt: if you can cum before i finish my game, i'll come and fuck you into the mattress. how does that sound?

he turns on the vibrator as he finishes the sentence.Jess feels the vibrations go from the lowest setting all the way to the highest. jacob turns around and goes back to his game.He can hear Jess moaning and struggling against the handcuffs making it very hard for him to concentrate.

Jess is moaning out Matt's name in hopes that he'll crack before time. She suddenly feels the vibrations turn down just when she was about to cum. Tears linger in her eyes once more as she loses that feeling. Matt chuckles in his seat still facing away from her.

He clicks the remote and the vibrations go up once more causing her to cum right then with a scream. he gets up and walks to her slowly. Jess is gasping and shaking trying to recover from her climax

Matt: well since you came before i finished, it's time for me to keep my end of the promise

he says smirking. Matt reaches over and undoes the cuffs

Jess: M-Matt t-the vibrator is s-still on

she moans out

Matt: oh shit sorry

he mumbles grabbing the remote and turning it off. she attempts to take it out but she cant reach it.

Matt: let me do it

he says pushing two fingers in causing Jess to moan and squirm. while trying to get it he accidentally brushes against her g spot causing her to gasp slightly.he manages to take the vibrator out

Matt: Jess i know youre tired so we dont have to- oh

he looks up and sees her fast asleep

Matt: damn

Matt picks her up and walks to the bathroom. he gently shakes her awake

Matt: babe you can sleep but i need to clean you up first okay

he says softly. she just nods her eyes not fully open. he sets her in the tub and lets a bit of warm water flow into the tub as he gently washes her body. After drying her off and putting her in one of his shirts. he gets in bed laying her on top of him and kisses her forehead

Matt: Goodnight baby I love you

he whispers closing his eyes. jess heard this but is too tired respond. so she just snuggles more into Matt

#matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic

36 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

After a very thoroughly singling out my favorite smut prompts, I'd like to request: Either 20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” or 5. “I can’t pull out when you wrap your legs around me like that.” (or maybe both? 👀) With a feral Hunter Sorry I couldn't decide 🫣 - I'm just down bad for him. Have a nice day

I'll Take Care of You

Summary: Hunter takes care of you when you fall apart.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x Reader

Word Count: 1492

Warnings: Smut, Reader has an abusive boyfriend, infidelity

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I don't know if I like this one. I think I might be to critical, but Hunter feels hard to write for me. Almost as hard as Tech. Dos it saw something about me that I have the easiest time writing about Crosshair? And now I actually do have to go, lol. My husband took a nap so I could write this.

You’ve been friends, or at least friendly, with Hunter for ages now. Since he moved with his brothers and younger sister to Pabu, actually. He’s always happy to offer his help around your house, though you’ve never actually asked for his help.

You like to joke that he has a sixth sense that’s directed towards knowing when you need help around your house.

He likes to joke that it’s called “big brother” senses, and that he just knows when the people closest to him need help.

And while Hunter is very attractive, and you kind of hoped for more than just friendship, his comment makes you think that you’re solidly in the kid sibling category in his mind. So you mentally shrug, and turn your attention elsewhere.

Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except when you did find a boyfriend, Hunter would scrunch up his nose whenever he came around you. Quietly, he admitted that you smell like your new boyfriend and it’s not exactly a pleasant odor to be exposed to.

And you felt so bad at the time, that you made sure that you showered whenever Hunter was going to come over, and you also made sure that your boyfriend never came over to your house. Should you have put Hunter over your boyfriend? Probably not, but you did.

It seemed to help, for a time. Hunter smiled a little more, and didn’t scrunch up his nose quite so much when he was around you. And it was going well…for a bit.

Until your boyfriend starts making demands.

“Spend less time with the clones.”

“Spend more time with me.”

“If you loved me, you would let me move in with you.”

“If you loved me you would give me half of your paycheck.”

“Since you won’t let me live with you, it’s only right that you pay my rent.”

“I can’t believe you spend so much time with other men. Stop being such a whore.”

It’s…a lot. Too much, really.

And it all comes to a head late one afternoon, when Hunter’s helping you repair your broken sink. You’re putting your clean dishes away, and you drop a plate, and it shatters into pieces.

And you stare at the broken plate while Hunter moves to get a broom and tells you to stay put so you don’t get hurt, and you just fall apart. Hunter, being the godsend that he is, manages to pull you somewhere safe, and then he proceeds to ignore the broken plate in favor of comforting you.

And as he holds you and strokes your hair and tells you that it’s just a plate, that it’s not the end of the world-

You spill everything. Every cruel word. Every demand. Every little thing your boyfriend does that makes you feel worthless. And his hands stop moving. His hands rest gently on the top of your head, and your face is pressed against his neck, and you want nothing more than to hide in him, because Hunter has always been you’re safe place to land, but he’s not yours-

And then Hunter’s hands are on your shoulders, and he pushes you back, just enough that he’s able to see your face. You have tears in your eyes, and on your cheeks, and he’s so furious that his lips are pressed into a thin line.

But his touch is so, so gentle when he brushes a tear off your cheek with his thumb.

He scans your face for a moment, “Stars, I’m fucked.” Hunter mumbles, and then his hand slides to the back of your neck and he crashes his lips against yours.

You’re surprised, but Hunter has always been your first choice, so it takes very little time for you to curl your hands in his shirt, and to kiss him back.

He releases a noise that can only be called a growl and he walks you backwards until your back bumps into your bedroom door. Hunter uses his lips and teeth and tongue to devastating effect, and it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before you’re whimpering and whining for him.

He pulls away from you just long enough to open your bedroom door, and then his lips are on your neck, biting and sucking marks onto your skin, as he walks you backwards to your bed.

You squeak as you fall back on your bed, and you blink up at Hunter as he doesn’t follow you to the bed. Instead he stands over you, his gaze dark with desire, as he pulls his shirt off and throws it to the side. “We should stop,” He rumbles low in his chest.

You reach out for him, “Probably,” You agree.

He climbs over you, and crashes his lips against yours, his hands sliding under your thin shirt, his fingers gently exploring your body, “Wanted to do this for ages,” Hunter mumbles against your lips, “Thought you were happy.”

You tangle one of your hands in his hair, “You were always my first choice.” You admit quietly.

He closes the distance between you, short as it is. The next time he pulls away, it’s only for long enough to peel your shirt off, and toss it somewhere in the room, before attaching his lips to your collar, intent to leave marks everywhere you allow it.

“My perfect beautiful cyare,” He groans against you as he slides down your body, removing your clothes as he does so, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you forget all about that bastard.”

You release a quiet whine, and you lightly tug on his hair to pull him back up so you’re able to kiss him, something that he’s more than happy to go along with, based on how he curls an arm around you, and impatiently kicks how own pants off his legs, leaving them sitting on the edge of the bed rather than fully tossing them out of the way.

He grinds his hard length against you and a quiet moan falls from you, “Hunter, please.” Your voice is soft.

He rains feather light kisses all across your face, “I have you cyare.” Hunter promises, one of his hands sliding down your body to lazily slide between your folds, “You’re so wet, mesh’la.”

You press your face against his neck at his words, feeling a flush of embarrassment, and Hunter lets you for a moment, “Don’t hide from me, cyare.” he coos, “Love it. Love how wet I make you. Wanna spend the rest of my life making you feel amazing-” He murmurs into your ear, and then he lightly pats your hip, “Lift up a little, cyare. Need to remove these,” He lightly snaps the elastic to your underwear against your skin.

You squeak, but do as he asks, allowing him to slide the flimsy material down your legs and toss them to the side.

The moment you’re both bare, he sits back on his heels and just stares down at your body. Hunter uses his hands to trail over the newly exposed skin, exploring you with his fingers and his eyes, and then he leans in to explore your body with his lips and tongue.

“I wonder,” He murmurs as his lips trail to your nipples, “Can I make you fall apart just like this.” It’s an absent comment, more to himself than you, and then his gaze meets yours, and you note the glimmer of mischief on his face. “I bet I can.”

And then his lips are around your nipple, and he takes his sweet time. Licking, sucking, and gently nips, paired with feather light touches across your thighs, and ghosting touches over where you need him the most-

It doesn’t take long for him to push you over the edge, his hair tight in your fingers and his name a prayer on your lips.

But it’s not enough. And a sly smile crosses his face when you, breathlessly, tell him so. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m nowhere close to being done with you.”

**********

The following day, there’s a knock on your door. And you, too exhausted from your night with Hunter, don’t even stir. Hunter, however, does.

So he pulls on his pants, and he saunters to the door. And when he opens the door, he leans against the frame and smirks at your now ex. He doesn’t even bother to try and hide the marks you left on his body.

Hunter’s voice is very pleasant, even if it’s a little rough, “I suggest you walk away.” The ex flushes, and opens his mouth to say something, only to get cut off by Hunter, “You made her cry. You made her feel worthless. You’re lucky I haven’t shot you. Leave.”

Hunter watches him stalk away, and then shuts the door. Only to hear your soft voice from the bedroom, “Hunter?”

A slow smirk crosses his face, “I’ll be right back, mesh’la.” He calls to you.

#star wars #tcw #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #18+ fic #clone thirsting #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

129 notes · View notes

thehusbandoden · 1 year

Text

Cold Alternative Ending- Dabi x Fem!reader

This is the alternative ending to Cold. Which is a Shigaraki x reader. | 553 words | fluff | hardcore Shigaraki angst

Warnings!: Mentions of a past toxic relationship, breaking up, Shigaraki breaking (mentally), mentions of blood and self harm (both from Shigaraki), kind of an opening ending.

Part One (Shigaraki x reader) | Part Two (Shigaraki x reader) | Alt. Ending

Reader's P.O.V:

Tears ran down your cheeks as you listened to Shigaraki's words. He was going to find you. You knew it. But he was going to kill Dabi. Not only that- but torture him?

"Hey y/n. It will be okay. He won't find us."

"Yes. Yes he will Dabi. And you will die-" I was interrupted as Dabi pulled me into his chest, head buried in my hair.

"Y/n.. I won't let him kill me. I have a reason to live."

"What!? Your mission in life?!"

"No! I don't care about that anymore. My reason is you. The one that I hold so dearly. The one that makes me want to turn my life around. The one that makes me swoon. The one that I love with all my heart."

At that, you gasped slightly, tears pricking at your already red eyes. "B-but I'd have to give him back his ring and officially break up with him." (So this doesn't feel like infidelity and Shiggy wouldn't get ntr'd)

"Would you.. be willing to do that?"

You nodded as tears fell down your cheeks, staining them. Dabi grinned at you before gently wiping them away, turquoise eyes stuck on your e/c ones.

"TOMURA!" You exclaim, voice reaching Shigaraki's ears immediately.

"Y/N!" He yelled, flinging himself toward you in a blind panic to get you into his arms. You swiftly avoided him, resulting in him face planting into the ground.

"Tomura. Listen to me." You demand, arms folded against your chest.

"What is it my darling y/n?" Shigaraki asked, crimson eyes glued to your heavenly form as he slowly etched toward you. You sighed before pulling him up, leaving your hands in his as you looked him in the eyes.

"Listen Tomura. It's been a good 5 years. And I love- loved you dearly."

At your change of word use, Shigaraki's heart dropped as tears fell down his face.

"But. You hurt me. A lot. You changed. Instead of being my Tomura, you became Shigaraki. The cold leader who loves no one. I don't like Shigaraki. In fact, I hate him. I love and miss my Tomura. But he's gone. And so, I'm sorry. But I can't do this anymore. I'm breaking up with you. And if there's an ounce of you that still loves me, take your ring back. And go on with your life. Goodbye, Shigaraki."

As you put your ring into Shigaraki's hands he broke. Falling onto his knees he yanked off his gloves before clawing at his neck, causing blood to seep into the ground. Shaking slightly, you walked back toward Dabi.

"He really let you go, huh." Dabi murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Yeah.. let's just go."

"Wait y/n-" you put a finger to his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Dabi. I know that part of me loves you. What I do not know is if it's platonic or not. Plus, I need time to heal. Please.. trust me with your heart, but let me keep mine until I'm sure that I can give it to you all the way. I don't want to hurt you."

Dabi nodded, turquoise eyes sad as he allowed you time, promising himself that he would wait all eternity for you, the one and only holder of his already broken heart.

Dabi's masterlist | Shigaraki's masterlist | Main masterlist | Requesting Rules (requests open and appreciated)

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #mha fluff #angst #fluff #mha angst #bnha x reader #mha dabi #mha shigaraki #dabi x reader #fem reader #female reader #open ending #dabi x reader fluff #shigaraki x reader angst #dabi fluff #mha x reader angst

103 notes · View notes

whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk · 1 year

Text

Hold You Till Forever

For @sjmromanceweek day 5 💕. Cassian made Nesta a promise on the battlefield. In the immediate aftermath of the war, Nesta goes searching for him to make him a promise of her own, having realised a few things in their brush with death. (Title taken from, and partly inspired by, the song Die Together by Amanda Tenfjord) (ao3)

...

I will find you. In the next world—

We’ll have that time—

I promise—

***

Nesta didn’t know what she had expected the aftermath of a battle to be like.

In all of the stories, all of the legends… there was silence in the moments after the fighting faded. Something sombre and weighty, heavy and sorrowful. A stunned kind of quiet as the world slowly knitted itself back together.

This was not that kind of healing. Not that kind of peace.

The world had, instead, descended into chaos. Had been sinking further and further into desolation as the sun made a slow path across the sky, golden light glancing off of broken shields, discarded swords. Even with the battle over, bloodshed reigned still as healers called for water, called for linen, called for bandages, and with the sun gilding the bloodiest parts of the battlefield, limning the pain…

Nesta searched.

Searched for the tent she needed— the warrior she needed.

She had walked away from the spot where she had driven a knife through the neck of a king. Where she had twisted and twisted, pushing until she could push no more, until she felt bone and sinew both yield beneath the edge of the blade. She had walked away from the place her father had died, the grass beneath her feet stained with so much blood it was difficult to tell if she stepped over the lifeblood, spilled, of friend or of foe— of the king she had murdered or the father who had given his life.

She felt an aching kind of sorrow. A heavy, breathless kind of grief as she walked slowly through the camp, through the debris— the scattered pieces of lives given, lost, saved. Past overturned water buckets, cast off shields. Nesta picked her way past the tents that housed the desperate, the dying, searching for just one in particular.

One close to the centre of the camp, one made of rope and black canvas.

One that the men passed with whispers of the general, that’s the general’s tent.

Nesta made her way there, her every step so agonisingly slow, as if she couldn’t force her limbs to move anymore, as if even breathing were becoming an exertion. Her hands were thick with blood, her soul heavy with loss, and yet…

She thought of his chest, of his breaths that had been ragged, rasping. She thought of his wings, thrown wide to protect her— then snapped, broken. She thought of how he had barely been able to stand, his leg broken too, how he had barely been able to walk as the healers took him away from that clearing where his blood still lingered, still seeped into the earth.

Nesta needed him.

Needed to find him.

Needed to make a promise of her own.

***

Even the healers had departed by the time Nesta slipped into that tent, the sun falling beneath the horizon as the day of battle came to an end. As dusky twilight descended, Nesta took a breath and let the tent flaps close behind her, all but sealing her in.

A small brazier burned in one corner, a single candle still lit. The air tasted of salt and soap, of healing ointment and starched bandages, and yet, beneath it all… there was him too, the comforting scent of him beneath it all.

Cassian.

She had realised something, on that battlefield today. Realised that even as fae, life remained fragile and there were so many things she hadn’t said, hadn’t told him…

The healers had left him sleeping, and he didn’t wake, not as Nesta took another step forwards into his tent. His eyes were closed, his golden skin like burnished bronze in the dim light, eyelashes fluttering as his sleep grew uneasy. He lay on a camp bed, on his back with his wings pinned beneath him, wrapped and mending, his hands resting gently on his stomach.

But the rest of him—

The rest of him was a mass of bandages, his chest wrapped so tightly from the bottom of his ribs to his sternum. The king had snapped his wings, had broken his leg, had inflicted so, so many wounds that they had cut through even the toughest parts of his armour. He had been broken and bloody, dying, and Nesta had thrown herself over him, guarded his life with her own, and she remembered the feel of his hand on her back, the briefness of his kiss as he used what little energy he had left to tell her - to show her - how much, in the few months they had known one another, his life had somehow become defined, encompassed, by her.

A sob threatened to break from her lips as she looked upon him now, as she remembered his voice, broken, telling her to go, to leave, to let him die.

I can’t, she’d said. The closest she had gotten to telling him that she regretted it too, hated that their time had suddenly ran short.

Someone had cleaned the blood, had washed it from his skin, and as Nesta spied a clean pail of water in the corner, she moved to do the same. She sloughed the blood from her hands, the water cold and piercing, removing all trace, all evidence, of battle. And when she was done, Nesta dried her hands on a towel before coming to kneel at his bedside, finding no stool to sit upon.

It didn’t matter.

She had knelt with him in the mud and the dirt only hours ago, had cradled his head in her lap as his life slipped between her fingers, and even then… Even then she hadn’t told him. Hadn’t said all the things she needed to, all of the promises that had lingered on her tongue.

I’ll find you, he'd said. I promise.

She hadn’t realised until that moment how much she had needed to hear those words fall from his lips. How much she had longed for it, for the kiss he had so briefly given her. She watched the rising of his chest now, focused on it, counting his every breath. Alive— he was alive, and she could tell him now, could voice all of those things she hadn’t been able to as he lay dying—

“Why are you on the floor.”

His voice was thick with sleep, heavy with pain. Nesta looked up, finding his face lined with worry as his eyes opened, as consciousness returned. Stupid bat, she thought. I’m not the one who lost all that blood. I’m not the one lying wrapped in a mile of bandages.

“Nes.”

Cassian frowned, a crease forming between his brows as he glanced down at her by his bedside. He pushed up onto his elbows, hissing as the movement stretched the wounds over his chest, and even though, briefly, his eyes shuttered against the pain… He tilted his head and offered her a small smile.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asked again, softer this time, a question that had a gentle kind of bemusement rounding out its edges.

“There’s no chair,” Nesta pointed out flatly, waving a hand at the tent around them, gesturing at the decided lack of any real furniture. Just a camp bed, a wash basin, and a chest with the lid propped open, flying leathers and weapons inside.

Cassian patted the space beside him on the bed. “So?”

“So there was no room on the bed, what with your great hulking wings—”

His grin stopped her short, blooming even in the wake of agony. A hand went to his ribs, eyes darkening as pain flared, but then he was grinning again, a rakish curve to his lips.

“Tell me more about how big you think my wings are,” he said, his voice dropping, kicking low and sultry as he raised an eyebrow.

Nesta scowled. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Mhm,” he said dryly. “And you’re still on the floor.”

Nesta rose to her feet, brushed herself off. Slowly, as if second-guessing, she settled herself on the edge of his mattress.

He’d almost died for her.

Almost died, all but told her he loved her as she held on to him, as she all but begged him to stay, to live. In that clearing, when his life was a moment from winking out, when hers wasn’t far behind, Nesta had found herself suddenly so certain of… everything. Clarity had settled over her as she heard his breathing grow shallow and his heartbeat start to slow.

She didn’t want to lose him.

She didn’t want to live without him. Even if she was only a handful of moments behind him, even if she took her last breath only a minute after his heart stopped… It would be a minute too long, she realised in that clearing. A minute of agony she didn’t want to endure.

And she needed to say it, needed to tell him, but she couldn’t quite find the words, didn’t know how to start.

I have no regrets but this, he’d said. That we did not have time.

And she should have said, I love you.

She should have said, I’ll wait for you. In whatever world we find ourselves in, whatever lies beyond… I’ll wait for you.

She should have told him all of it, as he lay dying in her arms, but the weight of her grief, her sorrow, her pain, had been too much to bear, too much to breathe around much less speak, and he had been dying as her father’s blood stained the ground and—

“You’re hurting,” he whispered, bringing her back to the present, where he was breathing and the war was over. Lifting a hand, Cassian let his fingers graze her cheek, the back of his knuckles soft against her skin.

“So are you,” Nesta answered, glancing pointedly at the bandages that covered him, that masked the wounds he’d gained throwing his life before hers.

“Different kind of hurt,” he pressed, his voice as soft as the candlelight that bathed them.

Once, Nesta would have pulled away.

A matter of days ago - hours ago, even - Nesta would have turned away from that softness, ran from the look in his eyes. She would have scorned the touch at her cheek, would have spit some insult and left that tent with her heart racing.

She didn’t want to run, now. She hadn’t ran as he’d lay dying, as the king had advanced and prepared to send them both into the darkness. Hadn’t turned from him as he kissed her with blood on his lips. She hadn’t ran, not even when Cassian had begged her to leave. So— she wouldn’t now, either.

“Take it away then,” she said, her lips barely moving as the words slipped out— so quiet, so soft. Her eyelids fluttered closed for the barest of seconds as his thumb grazed her cheekbone. “The pain. Take it away for me, Cassian.”

His eyes closed at the sound of his name on her tongue, a shaking breath leaving him as his chest continued to rise, his heart continued to beat. His hand moved, fingers straying into her hair, gripping and twisting in her tangled braids. He pressed their foreheads together and Nesta kept her eyes closed, shut tight, guarding against the horror still saturating the world beyond this tent.

“I would,” he answered, hoarse. “You know that I would.”

His eyes opened, his gaze lined with the same kind of grief and anguish that was tearing apart her own chest. Nesta only swallowed, letting her fingers rest against one powerful shoulder.

Her eyes dropped once more to the bandages, white and fresh, but her breath caught as her mind conjured all the images of him on the battlefield— as she heard the snap as the king’s booted foot came down hard on Cassian’s wing. She almost trembled, almost mourned, as she remembered how he had cradled her face as he almost died beneath her hands.

“I can’t lose you too,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” he answered quickly, his voice firm but not harsh, still soft at the edges. “Never, sweetheart.”

“I need you,” she admitted— the truth she’d been hiding from all along. She’d realised it as he’d kissed her, as she’d felt his blood run over her fingers. She hadn’t said it, hadn’t been able to speak in that clearing as he vowed to find her in the afterlife, in whatever world was next. And oh, how she would have regretted it. If he’d died before she had to chance to tell him— if he’d died without knowing. If she had died, before finding the courage to voice it aloud.

Her fingertips were tight on his shoulder now, grasping at his bare skin as if searching for something to hold on to. One of his hands found hers, caught her fingers and wound them together, giving her the hold she needed. He was silent, but as Nesta closed her eyes again, she felt soft lips against her cheek, across the bridge of her nose, on her forehead. Soft, fluttering kisses, little more than a brush of bruised lips against her skin, but her heartbeat began to calm, the waves of anguish in her chest receding.

Cassian cradled the back of her head, fingers brushing the nape of her neck, and when Nesta twisted her head, his lips fell to her jaw. His other hand came to her waist, a soft gasp leaving him as the movement shifted his wings, a hiss of pain as the broken membrane, shattered bones, stretched. He didn’t stop— his nose grazed her jaw, his hands pulling her closer as Nesta felt herself plummeting towards him, falling down, heading right to the safe haven he offered.

“I love you,” she breathed. “Don’t die without knowing that.”

“I’m not going to die, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low against her skin. He pressed another kiss to her neck before his lips climbed higher, skating over her jaw before reaching the corner of her mouth. He paused, waiting for her eyes to open as he held her face between his palms. “But I love you, too.”

“I thought you were gone, I thought—”

“I know,” he whispered. His face turned sorrowful, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips as his brow rested, once more, against hers. “I told you. There is only one thing in my life that I regret. That I didn’t tell you sooner, that I wasted so much time.”

“We’ll have that time,” Nesta breathed, an echo from earlier. Her own promise, one that was infinitely less grief-stricken, filled with hope and light and love, not death and grief and regret. “Now. We’ll have that time now.”

He hummed, the sound low and warm and echoing in his chest. His hand brushed her spine, came to rest at the small of her back, pulling him closer to her, as though his chest weren’t covered with wounds and bandages. As though his pain was suddenly rendered meaningless, suddenly healed, when he held her in his arms.

“Now,” Cassian agreed— vowed.

He claimed her lips at last, his kiss sweet and lingering and filled with promise. Slowly, at first. Slowly, he kissed her, as though taking the time to learn every inch of her, to savour it while he had the chance. His palm cupped her cheek, holding her there, and then his fingers were wandering to the nape of her neck, the kiss growing fervent and fevered and desperate— as though making up for lost time. Nesta leaned into it, weightless, as she let his kiss engulf her. There would be no more waiting, no more hiding or running or pretending. She had almost lost him, and now every touch, every kiss, was one she might have lost, might have missed.

And oh, what a crime that would have been.

To have left this world without knowing the taste of him, the feel of him, the warmth of him.

His hands mapped out the skin of her collarbone, over her shoulders, falling to her waist. Her own hands were slow, barely moving for fear of brushing his wounds, for disturbing the bandages that wrapped his middle. She kept her fingers buried in his hair, holding him against her, deepening the kiss until she was drowning in it.

I love you, she whispered in the silence, in the candlelight. Breathed it against his lips, murmured it whenever his kiss moved to another part of her— her throat, her ear, the curve of her jaw.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Spoken at last— and with every kiss he pressed against her, every pass of his hands, he whispered it, too.

I love you.

#nessian #sjmromanceweek2023

151 notes · View notes

dirtytransmasc · 1 year

Note

Mama and papa Neytrir jake au:

Do they bury Spiders old human body? Man how would they all feel about that, especially Neytrir and Spider, dear Eywa…

this prompt actually made me think of jake more then neytiri, so it is gonna lean more toward him, but both are gonna have their moment don't worry. hope you don't mind. this turned out to be so insanely long oml. jake was angsty. also, bending the few burial customs (being completely nude and without any items) we know of just a little for more angst, cause I can. also, I'm letting this whole family finally process the pain they let fester for 5+ years (cause they were hurting long before spider was put into a coma) by having a proper funeral for spider. cause I can.

jake insisted on moving spider's funeral to a few days after his transfer, no matter how many times Ronal and Tonowari assured they and their people could handle both ceremonies in one night, no matter how many times neytiri said they must get it over with so they could move on as a family, no matter how many times spider said he was ready to let go.

cause the thing was, jake couldn't; he couldn't bond his sons soul to a new body and say goodbye all in the same night, he couldn't move on just yet, he couldn't let go. the village wasn't losing part of their child, neytiri got the chance to say goodbye, she allowed herself that when he couldn't, spider had been waiting for this day for years, had plenty of time stuck in his own head to find solace in letting go. jake didn't have the mercy of any of those things, he was losing his baby boy's body that night, a body he never let himself say goodbye to, never let himself once believe he would lose.

he had carried him back from the cove that night, his broken, lifeless, little body tucked close to his chest. spider had always been so tiny, but being in coma didn't help, he lost all his muscle, had withered down to sickly skin and twig-like bones. he kissed the top of his head, held his hands, brushing fingers over his cheeks. he knew he could look over his shoulder and find spider riding with his mom on her own tsurak, but the body in his arms was his baby, the baby he raised. he kissed this forehead each night, he ran his fingers through this hair, rocked this boy to sleep. he would love his son no matter what body he was in or why he was in it, that didn't mean it wasn't tearing a piece out of him to lose this, his boy with golden hair and chocolate brown eyes.

he took him home and laid him in the infirmary, they would wash him tomorrow, prepare him to be returned to eywa. jake planned to go back to their marui, but couldn't bring himself to leave spider's body, couldn't stop fixing his hair, kissing cold hands, brushing fingers over soft cheeks.

spider eventually comes looking for him, having barely shaken his mother off to do so alone. he wanted his dad, just his dad.

he finds him holding his old bodies hand, trying to muffle his own tears, his whole body looked exhausted, like all of the strength spider remembered him having had finally been drained of him.

"hey dad." he spoke gently, not wanting to startle him.

jake turned to look at him, his face plastered with pain, his cheeks wet with tears and his eyes dark. "hey baby boy... c'mere," he held an open arm out to him.

spider immediately snuggled up to his dad, resting his head in the crook of his neck, longing to be held after such a long day. what he wanted more though, was to ease his dad's pain, hated to see him like this, wanted to do something. but what does he say, what does he do.

"how you feeling bud," jake asks, kissing his forehead.

"I'm good, feels good to be um... whole again, I guess. I feel different, but not bad different. I feel right, I felt... wrong when I was locked in my head and wrong when I was locked into my avatar, but now that its my body, I feel right again." he looked up to his dad, trying to make sure he understood what he was saying, hoping that if he understood, he would find the same solace.

jake understood, but he didn't find any solace in it, not that he hadn't already found. jake was happy for spider, he really was, but it was like his brain couldn't accept that fact that there was nothing to mourn, that spider was right here, alive and well, and not cold and lifeless. that the body in front of him wasn't his son, just the shell of him.

he wasn't just grieving someone who wasn't dead, he was saying goodbye to one of the things he had loved most in his life. he didn't even know where the line was.

"dad?" spider's voice broke through his hazy thoughts, "you alright?"

"yeah... I'm um, I'm," he knew he shouldn't lie, spider was sharper than a tack, always saw right through him, "its complicated kiddo,"

"don't 'its complicated' me, talk it out, that's what you and mama have told me over and over again the last few days. spill... I wanna help,"

"spi..." jake really didn't want to explain this to the kid.

"daaaaaaddddd," he wasn't going down without a fight.

jake laughed a little, kid never lost his humor.

"you know I love you right, no matter what, human or avatar or na'vi, I love you?"

"of course I know that? why would you think I wouldn't?"

"cause I couldn't take you home, I couldn't even go back to the marui, I came here to sit with... you or him or... you know what I mean..."

spider nods, looking to the body under the sheet, his body.

"you didn't lose me, I'm still right here, I promise." spider replied.

"its not... that's sorta it but... your mama, she was hopeful when we started making your avatar, she had some worries, but she let herself say goodbye to you, to this body. I couldn't do that, I was... too scared to lose you, too scared to be hopeful, cause if something went wrong... I wouldn't survive it. I didn't let myself look at your new face until the night before," he paused, cupping spider's cheek, "not because I didn't want you, or this new body, but because I couldn't... I was scared, I don't know how to explain it. your my baby, you will always be my baby, my son, but..."

"you raised me in this body, you're gonna miss it, that's ok dad." spider could understand, it wasn't hard. he couldn't imagine if his dad or his mom or even his siblings got human bodies; sure he'd still love them, but he would miss their na'vi bodies.

"I'm mourning him though, instead of being happy that your home. I can't seem wrap my thick head around it," he joked.

"when can you ever wrap you thick head around anything," spider joked back, shoving against him, forgetting that he was much closer in size, sending jake down on his back. "shit, sorry dad..."

"it's ok, I'm fine... it's good to see you got your strength back."

"yeah, I know it had to be... hard, seeing me like that. I haven't even really, looked at myself. it feels, wrong, I guess, to see myself from another set of eyes, my eyes."

"you were always my handsome boy, still are, and always will. no matter how sick you got, you always had that pretty face of yours and that golden hair. I think your mom rebraided it every few days, couldn't keep her hands off of it."

"that's what you'll miss?"

"yeah, not only that, but yeah. I'm gonna miss what made you, you, physically. your golden hair, and that scar on your lip that made your smiles yours, and your eyes that saw the good in everything. it's just hard, saying goodbye to him when I raised him for so many years. he is all I have ever known. I remember when you fit in the palm of my hand, when you were running around in diapers, or when you were just learning to say mama and dada. that's what I'm gonna mess, the little pink face in all of my memories."

he looked at him again, his sunken face and frail body, his long hair curled around his shoulders like a golden shroud. he was so little, jake felt like he should be holding him, like he did when spider was just a baby, stuck in that cold lab day in and day out. spider was always cold, that's why he floated to the sun like a moth to a lamp, but now spider would remain cold until he felt the embrace of his Mother.

"but I have you back now, which means its all worth it, I will say goodbye to him and embrace you."

"I'll miss it too, I got big hands now, I think my braiding days are over," spider spoke with the lilt of a laugh, despite snuggling close to his dad once more, desperate for his comfort.

"nah, you'll figure it out punk. now, go back to your mother, before she has your head for overexerting yourself, I'm gonna... I'll be back home in a minute." he knew it was selfish, to turn the boy away in favour of his old shell, but he knew that spider would understand, that he needed one last moment with his baby before they prepared him for the funeral.

"be quick or she'll be skinning you and not me," he gave his dad one last squeeze before rubbing his head against his dads jaw like a cat, earning a kiss to his now dark locks, before he took off towards the family marui.

spider knew it would take a long time for jake to recover, never once a man who loved change, never one to gamble with his children, not anymore at least. this would not be something he learned to let go of over night, like spider had, in a few weeks like neytiri and his siblings would. jake wasn't like that, hadn't allowed himself a minute of peace, a moment of acceptance in the years he had been asleep. but he knew that his dad would never not love him, will never not see him as his son, it would simply take time to let go of the parts of him he lost. he may not understand what his dad feels, but he knows that he needs him to be strong, so he could heal.

jake kissed his baby's forehead once more, brushing fingers through his hair, urging his body to leave him. he wasn't successful the first, second, or third try, but the thought of going home to his son, not the shell of him, not the remains of him, but the real fucking deal, got him up on the fourth. that's how thing would be now, trying again and again until he could do what was best for his family, he wouldn't make the same mistakes ever again, that was a promise. but there was a promise much more important to put his mind to, getting home, asap, as he wanted to keep his skin.

tomorrow would probably be just as hard as today was, it would hurt all over again, but he did enough AA back on earth to know one damn thing; one day at a time. today might have ended easy, but tomorrow he might feel like he was tied down with a ton of bricks when he goes to get up. he still had his son, his family was back together, and they needed him. grief was always messy with him and this time he didn't have a poison or a new life or a vice to escape to, to forget it. so he just had to hope he had the strength to face it head on.

that decision to get up and be strong when he just wanted to give up into the weakness was all worth it when he entered a pod of glowing but sleepy smiles, his children already tucked into the family pallet, his mate holding their son, and an open space waiting for him to fill. it was all worth it when he got to hold his family, all of them, once more with no fear they could lose spider in the night. this was worth it, even if part of him still ached to be back in the infirmary, back with the boy with golden curls.

~~~

jake and neytiri rose early that morning, before the end of eclipse, just as the first shreds of light began to creep out from behind the planet. they let their children sleep in, watching as they curled around each other; spider at the core.

they would say goodbye today, something that weighed on jake in a way he can't even explain to neytiri, to himself, barely managed to get the basic idea into his son's head the night before. it filled neytiri with a sense of eery peace, one she too felt conflicted by.

both went to the infirmary before any of the healers, even before ronal started her rounds, to see their sons body. jake was hesitant, telling her to go first that he needed to go see norm for something.

she thought he was scared because this was the next step in moving on, but jake was more worried about giving into his cravings; like he was an addict and his son's body was a drug. the only person he could even attempt to vent to was norm, that or he could go to the spirit tree and get yelled at by grace or tsu'tey or trudy. he'd prefer to get yelled at someone from his plane and not someone who's been cold in the ground for years or lost amongst the rubble.

neytiri sat with her son's body, trying to decide how she would present him to eywa. she had the time to braid his hair, but part of her wanted to leave it as it was, long and golden and curly, like rays of sunlight.

she brushed it out, again and again, holding his head in her lap as she did so. she sang her last songs to this body, burned the last of her sons features to her mind. she could understand jakes fear, he was not as much a man of faith as she was, he saw returning their boys former body as a final goodbye, unlike her, who saw this as the next stage in her sons life. returning his body was to give his pain and suffering to eywa, to relieve him of it, and to allow that part of him to rest, no longer weighing what remained of him down. she could still visit him and their memories, together now. while she would miss actually get to hold him, she knew this wasn't the end; she just hoped jake could see that.

~~~

jake was fuming, pacing around the lab, tail lashing. he was already having a fucking conniption before he got there, but to be greeted by norm and his science puke happy-go-lucky kumbaya bullshit really just got him going. he needed someone to see this from the fucked up perspective that was his brain, but no, norm had to a smart ass and go all therapist on him.

"you don't understand norm, it's not that I haven't accepted him, don't pull your psychology bullshit on me, and just fucking listen; I love my son, I love him no matter what he looks like or who he is. I just... I want to see his smiles again, feel his breath against my neck when he sleeps curled to my chest, I want to see the life flash in his eyes just one more time." jake is pissed, anger rumbling in his stomach. he didn't come to norm to be psychoanalyzed and told he needs to move on, smell the flowers, accept that he has his son back and everything is fine, when nothing is fine, not yet, and he doesn't know how to make it fine.

"jake you still have him, count yourself luck-" norm started to interject.

jake almost fucking bit him.

"no, no, don't pull that shit on me. I watched him fade away for years, I held his body in my arms, and I feel like I lost him even when he's standing right next to me. I need someone who will listen to me when I feel like losing my mind, when I'm too stuck in my own grief to protect my family. I came to you for help not for you to fuck with my head and tell me I'm lucky after I watched my son die slowly for 5 and a half years, took my children back into battle of all things, just so I could say goodbye to the body I raised from he was the size of my palm and until he was taken from me by those fucking demons. I love my son I'm just having a little bit of trouble letting go, fuck you for trying to put me down when I came to you for help."

"I'm sorry jake, I just... I don't understand, yelling at me isn't helping," norm was trying to stay cool and collected, not giving into jakes anger, not feeding the inferno blazing through his chest. "talk to me, I'll listen, just explain it to me. calmly."

norm was so lucky he didn't end up with a few broken teeth, cause that's what jake had come in doing, explaining, and now he had to do it all over again, for like, the 10th time in the last 2 days.

he took a long, deep breath, willing himself to stay calm.

"spider has only ever been human to me, and while I am so fucking happy to have him back, blue and all, I raised him in that body. that's the body I fed and held and sang to and took care of. I kissed each and every one of those scars as they healed to make them better. I sat in that cold ass lab and taught him to read and write with those grubby little hands. that was my baby, and sorry I'm having a hard time letting go. spider is still my son, I love him just the same if not more than I did in his human body, I just- I just wish I didn't have to lose him like this, without getting to say goodbye, to have all my 'last times' with that body. I don't get that anymore and it's driving me fuckign crazy... do you get it now?" he left out the 'If you say something stupid I will pound your face in' cause his heart rate was just starting to come down again.

norm nodded, "you feel robbed, you're mourning a loss of opportunity, not him, in a way, I guess."

"its more then that, so much fucking more... but yeah, sure." he wanted to spit the words at him like acid, but didn't. he was exhausted, today would only get fucking harder, so he opted to just leave. "we'll talk when I'm done visiting my boys body... it's like staying sober y'know, to not sit with him all-day, it's like a fucking drug and I came to you because I trusted you to help."

norm looked hurt, genuinely. jake knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't fucking help it, he was angry, so fucking angry. the world was cruel, god was cruel, eywa was cruel. his heart was tearing itself apart, he felt guilty for his own pain and now he was taking it out on norm who had only been trying to help.

"sorry, I'm so sorry... I need to go before I open my stupid trap again, I'm just fucking... I'll see you later." jake started to leave, but norm stopped him at the airlock.

"you're hurting jake, years of sitting and waiting for it all to go wrong, of ptsd from battle, the avatar, it's all crashing in on you and the one bit of normalcy you have that ties you back to spider is his body. I understand now, I understand," norm spoke softly, awkwardly patting his arm as he was still in his human form, "go be with your kid, neytiri. we need to figure something out for when you let go, you hear me? can't have you spiraling like that on just anyone." though the knew norm was serious, there was still a laugh in his tone and a smile on his face.

"shut up asshole... I'll see you at the funeral." he nodded goodbye and ducked out the airlock before norm could stop him. loved the guy, but, he couldn't deal with any more analyzing looks or verbal break downs of his psyche. most of all, he wanted to leave that conversation on good terms, so he could go back to his mate and help her prepare for the day ahead.

~~~

when he returned to neytiri he found spider's hair had been brushed and bound into four small braids, the rest of his hair down. they were fastened in place with dyed seagrass, threaded with pearls and small shells. she had secured pearls, flowers, iridescent beads. she made him beautiful for The Great Mother.

"we must wash him ma'jake, it is time. the children will be awake soon, they will want to make their last visit with him, it's best that he is prepared before they come, so they can leave when they wish with him." she spoke lightly, as if their child dead body was right in front of them. she almost sounded happy, it wasn't fair-

cause it isn't his body. he reasoned with himself, only a shell, nothing to mourn, he isn't gone.

"yeah... I know," he leaned into her, letting her cup his head in her arms, kissing his face half a dozen times before bring him to look in her eyes.

"It'll be ok, ma'jake... I see you, even if I don't understand what is going through your mind. show me, while we wash him." she offered up her queue, connecting it with jake.

they didn't speak, she allowed herself to feel what jake felt as he watched over their son's body. the washing was more a custom in this case, a last intimate moment between parent and child, as spider had been washed quite thoroughly the night before at the transfer.

jake washed spider's hands, painful memories flashing behind his eyes; the first time spider held onto jake's finger, barely able to fit his little hand around it. jake fixing his hold on his bow. clinging onto jakes hand as he coughed horribly from lung sickness. his little bloodied hands scrabbling to latch onto him as he slipped into unconsciousness. withered and boney hands no longer striving for touch. it was almost to much for jake, neytiri tried to lighten the burden, guiding him away from the darker memories, pulling him back towards the memories of the son they had now, the way he held onto jake when he woke up, the way he held both of their hands as they walked out into pandora for the first time, slept with his finger intertwined in their hair.

"it's ok, ma'jake its ok. stay here with me, with our son."

jake nodded, he could feel her understanding him, slowly but surely. the question left her voice. if she understood, then he wouldn't be alone, he could let go and trust he had someone to keep him from trying to follow.

it stayed the same as they continues washing, memories of his face, his smile, his eyes. washing over what had been lost, the places that should have been made of muscle, strong enough to pull back a bow the size of him with ease, to trapeze through the forest like it was nothing, it was all gone now. it almost made it easier, with neytiri's coercing, to accept that they had to say goodbye to this body, spider had no life waiting for him in it, jake should have said goodbye a long time ago, taking a risk at his own heart instead of expecting for his son to return in this form.

after they washed him they painted his body, they knew spider would want that even if he didn't ask for it, dressed him in a ceremonial loincloth, warrior's cummerbund, and placed his knife and sheath on his belt. they tied the string of his bow around his wrist, both whispering the warrior's prayer as they did so, no more arrows must be shot, nor knives be unsheathed, rest now mighty warrior, your task is now finished, The Great Mother beckons you to rest.

when they finished, neytiri praying over him for a short while longer, jake kissed his forehead, gently petting his hair before leaving what he wished with the boy. a few beads made from the trees and stone of their forest home, the leather bands he made from spider's first sturmbeest hunt, and a seagrass choker jake made from beginning to end waiting for his son to come home. 5 war feathers, one for each year spider lost for saving his family.

neytiri tied a final piece of her own around her child's neck, a simple leather band, the bead that marked spider's birth on her songchord hung on it. this was how she would move on.

"we can bring the children now, morning meal has passed, the healers will be in soon. they will come, say their goodbye's, spider will be given a moment to... find closure, we will go to afternoon meal, and then we will wrap him and prepare for the ceremony." she spoke calmly once more, pulling jake down to her level, "then we will go home to our children, our son who is still here with us, and we will finally be together. no more labs, no more masks or batteries, no more leaving him at night, no more. I see you, I see your pain, understand your pain, even if not for myself. I will be here with, he will be here with you, we will heal, but you must let go."

"pänu (promise)?" she had never heard jake sound so weak, so desperate.

"sin Eywa, pänutìng, ma'yawnetu (on eywa, my love)." she held his hands in her's, spider's still in jake's grasp.

jake nodded, gathering his strength. one day at a time.

"goodbye, my sweet boy." jake muttered, leaning to say those gentle words into his child's ear, "I will visit our memories, I will never forget you."

neytiri let it slide, for now, to jake, this body and their son were two different beings, it was how he was coping, she would not strip him of that. one must heal before a vice can be lost.

"come on, let us be with our children." she spoke as she stood, offering jake her hand, and he took it.

he took a long deep breath again. he could let go, he could, he just had to step away. one foot in front of the next, until he was out of the space they kept the bodies, until he was out of the infirmary, until he was back on their marui's side of the village, until he had his baby boy in his arms again.

"hey little man," he forced a wet laugh out of his throat, paying no mind to his teary eyes.

"no so little anymore dad," there was his son's voice, his breath on his chest, warmth in his hands as they held onto his neck. this was his son.

"yeah you are, your like, twelve, don't get ahead of yourself."

"fourteen actually, I'm not a baby." spider used his know-it-all voice, faking the face to keep up the whole act, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

jake couldn't help but laugh a little, causing spider to break, falling back into jakes arms, hugging as tight as he could.

"your my baby until I say you aren't anymore, baby boy, same goes with your mother. your our baby and always will be."

"I know, I'm ok with that." spider held on tighter with one arm, reaching for his mom with the other.

the three held onto each other for a long while, long enough for neteyam to join in, dragging lo'ak with him. tuk was always in for a group hug, and kiri knew her fate was sealed when she heard spider calling her name. they ended up in a pile on the floor until ao'nung came to invite the kids to have lunch with them, as he had gotten real close with spider the couple days.

"go eat, then we'll talk." jake sent them off, talking one last long look at spider. it was starting to feel right.

~~~

the kids coped the best, they were more then familiar with change, adjusted better then their parents, quicker too. so seeing their brother's body wasn't as hard.

still, each had their moment. they may not have raised spider, but they grew up with him in this body, and while the loss wasn't tearing them apart inside, there was the sharp realization that this was the last time they would hold him like this.

they took turns, wanting privacy to mourn.

neteyam was first, he held his big brother's hand one last time, saying goodbye to the one person he could fall into when his responsibilities got too much for him to bear. he left him with an akula tooth, one he earned from the many battles he partook in, used seagrass twine to bind it to the braids where they joined together. "guess this is bye, sorta. mom told me that grief is stranger, that we're allowed to miss you even if we have him. that's what dad says he's feeling... I don't know what I feel, or if I'm gonna miss you more then I do right now. but, I love you, and I thank you for the time I had for the time we had."

he slipped a cuff made of ilu teeth, snail shells, and sea glass from ao'nung and tsireya. they weren't allowed to see his body after the cleansing, as it was a family-only time, but they wanted to leave him with something.

lo'ak was second. he was much more rocked by the sight of his brother's dead body. he found tears in his eyes and an aching throat . "didn't think I'd start to miss your ugly mug... was getting sorta used to it not being around- that's not true, I should just shut up and say my sappy goodbyes... I'm gonna miss you bro, your gonna be bigger then me in a few years in that new body, it's gonna totally suck, screw you for that."

he tied his own anklet around his brother's leg, wanting a piece of him to go with his brother. his brother would also take lo'ak's tears with him, as he cried everything, every ounce of pain he had felt in the last 6 years out. he trusted spider to take that pain to the great mother, so they could both be relieved of it.

kiri and tuk went together, both had clung close; kiri was losing the body of her person, tuk was losing her big brother again, neither were taking it well.

kiri was grieving in an odd way; she accepted it, knew she still had her brother, felt no personal attachment to spider physical form outside of the memories she already had. it was more the fear that this was all a bad dream. she dreamed after her seizure, that everything was perfect, that nothing bad had happened. part of that fear linger deep within her, deeper than logic could ever hope to touch. then their the fact she can never visit her memories with him, not without risking killing herself or sending the entire village into a frizzy.

tuk just wanted this to be over. war was over, loss was over, all she need was for spider to be ok. he had his avatar, but now his body was leaving. his pretty hair, the way she was almost bigger than him so he couldn't baby her. she was tired, she had grown up confused and scared, plagued by war and death; spider had only brought that on ten-fold, no fault of his own. she just wanted him back and for him to be happy, that's all that she wanted now, peace.

they planned to be the one's preparing his float, gathering the flowers they would send him away with. but tuk braided him some rings out of flowers and kiri wrapped him in the shall she came to her new home in, though it was know decorated with flowers and shell chips. both of his sisters took their time making sure everything was perfect, they needed it to, because for kiri this was the last time she would see this body, for tuk this was the marked the end of her suffering, of her family's suffering, of her brother's suffering.

"miss you monkey boy," kiri whispered at the end of her prayers, kissing his temple, hand over his now still heart, "take our pain to the great mother, our gifts, let this part of spider's soul rest so he may grow to be a great warrior, guide, healer, whatever she needs of him. rest now brother, so he may move into this new phase of life."

she rose, pushing tuk torwards him, "its your turn now, you need to say goodbye now, I will be outside, be strong, little sister." and with that she was gone. she knew tuk would not speak her full true mind in the company of the living, and that's what tuk needed to do, so kiri left her.

tuk twiddled with spider's too-cold fingers, finding her anger, the fire that burned low in her gut. lo'ak sad he gave spider his pain so he could take her's too.

"it's no fair... you're my brother, he's my brother, why do I have to say goodbye to anything. all I know is war, I'm not even close to finishing my Iknimaya yet, and I have seen war, and death, and fear, and... a-and. I don't want to say goodbye to you because you were my rock; when they all got too old for me, you were there, when the war came, you were there to keep me company when neteyam and lo'ak went out there. then you were gone, and we got you back only for you to stay asleep for years. now your leaving again."

she wanted to scream, and it wasn't fair to spider. he did nothing, he was the only one who never hurt her, not once, not even on accident. but what happened to him hurt her more than she knew how to put into words, even in her own mind.

"ask The Great Mother, will it ever stop? the pain. answer me when I come to see you. I love you, skxawng koak tsmukan (idiot big brother)" she hugged him, one last time, and went to follow her sister.

~~~

spider went to see himself right before his parents, the chief, and the tsahik come to prepare it. to be completely honest he doesn't want to see it. that was the old him and he's not so sure why everyone is so fucking attached to it.

ok, ok... he gets it, but he doesn't get why they need him to be attached. its just a body he lived in for 16 years, and fuck that logic makes it make sense too.

he looks down at himself, what he was withered down to, it looked like this shell fo him could be crushed in the palm of his hand with how small and sickly he looked. didn't help that his body had been dead for almost a day at this point. not only that, but he see's what his family has done for him, adorned him in; the clothes, the jewelry, the shawl, the effort put into his hair, the perfection in the paint.

"this is the one thing I get to be glad about, saying goodbye to you old friend. thank you, Great Mother, for blessing me with this body, both of them, for allowing me to live this long, for allowing my family to be whole once more. but I will mourn this loss, I am ready to rid myself of this body." he spoke surely about himself and his thoughts, he had already found his closure when he thought he would die in that coma, locked away from his family, locked away from it all. he would be ok now.

~~~

jake held his sons body as neytiri and ronal wrapped him in the kelp fibre, both singing songs of remembrance. the infirmary was thick with fragrant smoke, tonowari's hand keeping jake there as the final preparations came together.

there were songs and prayers, final additions, final touches to assure this part of spider passed on like anyone one of The People.

the kids gathered flowers into the leaf basin that would carry spider's body to the cove. ao'nung, tsireya, and roxto helped, they may not have known spider in this body, but they sat by his bed, by their friends as they mourned him, as they went to battle for him. they befriended him in this new body and had learned the stories from their friends, and now were going to help give them all the peace they so desperately deserved.

and just as the sun began to hide behind the large planet, the people of the village gathered in the cove, the float was loaded with spider's body, covered in flowers, and attached to an ilu.

spider held onto tuk and kiri as they followed their parents on their own ilu, easing him baby sister's tears, holding onto kiri's hand as they had to listen to tuk's cries. he watched neteyam and lo'ak ride next to them, neteyam holding onto both of his lo'aks hands where they were wrapped around his middle, his brother laying his head on his back. their parents clearly tear-striken as they held onto one another the entire ride.

spider had known this was more than just a body the whole time, but it was only more clear when his entire family was gathered together while still focused on his body. this was so much more, and not something he alone could ease, this was years of pain bottled up and away, that they were finally getting rid of. it hurt to watch, but he couldn't be more grateful for his 'demon' body in that moment.

as he watched his siblings soak up their last moments with him, fingers grazing through his golden hair, or brushing over his cheek, grasping at his fingers. watched his dad sob over him and his mom's face be filled with this odd discomfort, tears dragging down her cheeks. jake reached for him, lo'ak and neteyam held each other at the surface, tuk clung close to her ilu while kiri held his hand. they watched as spider's hair floated peacefully in the water, golden curleds blending in with the sea grass, the shawl floating aimlessly with the current, spider's face peaceful as if he was asleep. he felt a weight be lifted off his family as they swam him down over the anemone, his body being wrapped in eywa's grasp once more. something in him shifted, a heavy block in his chest finally passed, and he felt free. free from pain and fear, like all he had gone through at the demon's hands, on that ship, in the coma, was no more, just as his body was. no more.

when they wen't home that night, spider held his songchrod close, he had yet to decided how he would continue it, had yet to find a placeholder for this, but he does know, he sleeps peacefully in his family's arms as his mother sings it to them.

today, they moved on, some more then others, and they felt like they could finally breathe.

jake kept spider close all night, close enough to hear his breathing, to feel the air on his chest. he rested his head on top of his kids and assured himself that this was real, that spider was still with him, and everything was ok. neytiri held her child and her mate, feeling as though everything had been set right, the body she loved but let go of was with Eywa, the boy she loved with all her heart in her arms, and for the first time in years, her mate's heart was calm. the children latched to them as well, all desperate for touch and attention after the last few days, tuk between her mother and spider, neteyam and lo'ak stuck to each other once more as they squeezed between their dad and their brother, kiri sprawled out on top of all three of the boys. they slept peacefully that nigth and slept in the next day.

many tears had been shed, more would be as they made their first communions with eywa, seeing their blonde-haired boy once more. their eyes were puffy and red, their cheeks stung, and their hearts ached, but they were ok, and that's all that mattered now.

119 notes · View notes