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#i need to let them go and ive been trying for fucking months
madnessismylover · 2 years
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#ugh i just wanna be able to share cute and funny videos with my friend again...#i wanna be able to tell my therapist about whats been literally haunting me but ive been gaslit into thinking i deserve to suffer#and that it was entirely my fault when it's not but im too much of a people pleaser#i wish i had the confidence to not care if someone hates me i wish i didn't automatically think that someone hates me#hate is such a strong word but i so easily think that is the way someone feels about me#i wish i could right the wrongs but i told myself i wasn't gonna speak first if they want nothing to do with me I'm respecting that#im not gonna reach out first cause i always mess up and maybe they really don't wanna hear from me#its better if i stay quiet#if they wanted to talk to me they would but it's clear they don't#what if i end up triggering them by reaching out idk how all this affected them i only know how it affected me#maybe they've had nightmares too maybe not maybe they also lay awake rethinking everything maybe not#idk so I have no right to reach out#i don't deserve to let my therapist know .. what harm does lying and saying 'oh yeah we talked the other day' do?#so instead i vent here where no one reads because i deserve to wallow in self torment..#i hope they've forgotten or forget about me cause then there's no pain for them if there was any#I don't like hurting others i never do it on purpose and i try my best to correct behaviors that i previously didn't know where bad#i want to learn to be better and what ive learned is to just not say anything because i always end up saying something wrong in some way#if they think i caused the hurt and pain intentionally then they don't know me as well as i thought they did#i am not to blame for my trust issues or trauma responses but i am trying my best to get better and not have those affect me#i need to let them go and ive been trying for fucking months#not being able to right the wrong has been haunting me... if i had just fucking clarifed instead of shutting up maybe it wouldn't have-#turned out this way .. thats on me.#negative in tags#rant? in tags#vent in tags
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opens-up-4-nobody · 5 months
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#the problem with a mood profile that is mostly way down with peaks of way up is that when u return to a state of: the bullshit is easy.#i dont need to sleep. i could run around in circles. i could read a million papers. what kind of loser cant manage their life?#u r like: God fucking dammit i fucked up so much stuff. y tf didnt i do yhis at the time???? its so baffling like i went from fuck just let#me sleep forever to agitated and full of evil energy to like: ok im normal im gonna do the extraction ive been putting off for months#y couldnt i have been like this last week when i should have gathered a list of my failing students to the prof to make them withdrawal?#like y tf didnt i do that?????? i mean. its kind of a suspect way to run a class tbh bc u r artificially inflating ur score#but i could have saved like 6 ppl from an F. but i mean if u r struggling its sort of on u to reach out for help.#ugh. ive not been very good at my job this semester. but to b fair my brain has been trying very hard to kill me#genuinely i had to fill out a safety sheet in therapy and then go to a ta meeting where they were like: how r yall doing#? how do u feel abt the semester? and im just like aaaaaaaAAAaaaa 🙃#next semester i think im TAing for an online course. and im hoping its not bc i was so terrible they had to distance me from students lol#i mean. thats probably just me being paranoid but idk well see monday when i ask when the prof wants to meet before next semester#ay. its been a rougher semester than id hoped.#unrelated
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britneyshakespeare · 9 months
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That manipulative, guilt-tripping, gaslighting and condescending ex-friend I've been subposting about every now and then for several months because his actions and words have made a paranoid wreck out of me, who suddenly stonewalled me three months ago after I set up my very first impersonal boundary with him, and then I just never reached out to him again because I realized what he was trying to do was get me to crawl on my knees and ask HIM for forgiveness for hurting ME... he messaged me today. With a laundry list of excuses and justifications in the form of an "apology" filled with fake compliments and self-pity and words put into my own mouth that I had never said to him.
I let him HAAAAAAVE it motherfucker. Well Mr. Krabs, do you wanna know what I think?
#tales from diana#i almost feel bad for him but i know i shouldnt!!!! hes a lying manipulating ass bullshitting bullshitter!!!!!!#he did this right before i had to leave for my brother's wedding rehearsal. asshole#still thinking even though it's been three months wo acknowledging him. he still thinks i dont have anything to do than attend to his needs#truly. he's a pathetic narcissistic little boy.#this is precisely WHY i knew i NEVER should've talked to him. bc i knew he was gonna be manipulative and guilt-tripping#and he'd MAKE ME SYMPATHIZE WITH HIM!!!!! AGAIN!!!!! I DO FEEL BAD EVEN THOUGH IM STRONG IN MY CONVICTIONS I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO HIM#until today when i had to call him out for burdening me WAY to much when i DID NOT fucking ask to hear from him#let alone with him bringing up all this bullshit ive been trying to move on from#fuck the fuck off!!!!!! fuck all the way off!!!!!!!!!!!!#leave my friends alone too stop dragging them into this#he is way too good at wringing sympathy out of other ppl if ive been self-aware of my problem with him#for at least three months not to mention he used me and manipulated me for MANY MANY MONTHS#EVERY SINGLE DAY HE WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE FOR HOURS EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR MONTHS#and *I* felt bad for *HIM* and bc he made me feel like *I* could never look out for *MYSELF*#for MY OWN NEEDS#GO TO FUCKING HELL DUDE!!!!!!! GO TO HELL#the way im typing these tags is actually not representative at all to what i said to him#but i did assert myself that i was angry and he was approaching me on terms that were good for him not that were good for me#and that he knew i wanted to talk to him on my own time.#i was originally jsut going to tell him sternly but drily that i dont wanna be friends anymore i want to cut ties completely#oh but he made me be MEAN about it. WELL THATS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR!!!!! ITS WHAT YOU BEGGED FOR#go cry about you shitass motherfucker#ive wiped more than enough of your fucking tears for a lifetime. seriously go fuck yourself#(again this is nothing like what i said to him. i didnt even swear. but any truth i tell him is more than he wants to hear)#(to him there'll be no difference)#well :) i have to make peace w that fact... and i blocked him at long last. so. im just gonna have to be the bad guy#ill have to tell my friends about it over the weekend or... sometime i guess#MY BROTHER'S FUCKING WEDDING IS THIS WEEKEND and he does this to me. fuckkkkkk offfffffff. we love your considerate timing bro#i hate him :) i seriously fucking hate him
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earanie · 26 days
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so.
#first of all ive already been told exactly how stupid i am by my dear friend so i know#im dumb#But stiiiilll#remember how last week while i was having an all around breakdown i wrote to Them™?#it was just a stupid text like how you doing#But I mean stupid!! stupid!! so stupid! riiight?#what was i hoping? idk. I just wanted to hear from them and so well i took the matter in my own 2 hands#I missed them and I wanted to hear from them since I think about them 24/7 anyhow#and guess what? they answered me#(we're supposed to be friends of course they did)#and alright we were having a nice convo#i was kinda afraid they'd be kind of stand offish#not bc of anything but probably not to try and lead me on yk?#that's what id do probably - kind but not too involved as not to give any false hope#and im so glad bc they arent doing that! we really did have a nice convo#ok at some point they answered kinda weirdly but that's probably just them being a v bad texter#which - fair - im not that good myself#thing isssss... the convo is still going on. 6 no 7 days later?#they're offering info that they don't need to. asking questions too! it's like they're actually enjoying talking to me!#I want to cry of happiness okay#and ik this doesn't mean a thing - i know it. i know how things stand. I am okay with it.#But to know they still enjoy talking to me and sending their precious little time chatting with me - i mean. fuck#and each time the convo was kinda dying down they still managed to keep it going 😭 i could cry#and today we've really been going back and forth and it's the best thing that's happened to me all month ok? ok.#and they've just asked me how was my morning. totally unnecessary question. im so happy i could die#yes im delusional but im in love so please god please universe - just keep thing convo going a bit more#just let me have this - it's such a small joy and such a small hope - just let me have this for a little while more#I wont go crazy - or i will but it won't hurt me worse than ive already been hurt so the danger is worth it#god I love them that's so awful
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be-good-to-bugs · 1 month
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crying shouldnt cause headaches, thats just cruel honestly.
#the bin#i went through to figure out costs more and im most likely not gonna be abek to bring almost any of my belongings#i can probably manage to at least bring my pets. my sisters boyfriends cat cant tow and it doesnt have a lot of space in it so im not gonna#have much room for anything at all. i guess maybe its a good thing my sister wont be coming then :/#honestly. im not actually THAT upset. he seems fairly chill and respectful of my boundaries. moreso than my fuckin sister is. not that thats#hard to accomplish. if i set a boundry with her she will most likely break it repeatedly and then also refuse to apologize#im still uncomfortable with it but not much more than i was with going with her anyway. i van just keep earbuds in the whole time probably#im really upset that ill have to leave my stuff here though. with her. i hate that. and im also probably not gonna have a bed when i move#and ill be sleeping on the concrete basement floor so uh. that sucks. a lot. my aunt probably has an air mattress i casn borror for a bit#im also probably gonna see if i can convince my sister to let me take one of her beta fish and the one tank she has for it. its a small tank#so i could easily bring it. its too smalm for the poor thing but its gonna be in that if it comes with me or her so. and i wanna get it#something better. ive become pretty attached to it after taking care of it for the past 4 months. ugh the fact she just ditched me with her#fish pissed me off so much too. not to mention the snakes were supposed to be a shared pet but she just stopped dling anything ever and it#became exclusively my responsibility to care for them and pay for all their stuff. she should not have pets of any kinda#im trying blt to be really upset. i can hopefully bring my most important belongings at least. his car isnt THAT small. and then ill only#need to pay for the gas and thats it and i can definitely afford that. hhhh. ill figure it out. i hate this :/#my head hurts so bad from having a 2 hour long meltdown. im so upset over our whole relationship and everything#she just keeps doing selfish things over and over again and treating me like an idiot for not knowing things she didnt tell me#specifically treating me like im stupid for not knowing she isnt gonna be able do what she specifically told me she could#im im so mad at her for the ditching me and the repeatedly taking advantage of me specifically for money and fucking me over#wnd everything before that. our whole relationship. im seo stressed abt this. i have nobody now.#i hate her so much. im glad i can clearly see how abusive things have always been bug it doenst make it sting any less#and it doenst helo the fact she continues this behavior now too
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whitemochacoffee · 3 months
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To my friends; i'm just really really sorry for everything. I love y'all
#delete later#vent post#personal#sorry i just really need to let this out somewhere#i've been following advice to get better#ive been working well and ive been going out#but i just feel so incredibly suicidal when i complete things that are meant to make me happier that are meant to improve my mental health#i want to be okay#but i think the fact that i'm sick just fucking messes with every bit of my being#i love my friends so much i dont want to hurt them by offing myself#but some part of me thinks that they'll be happy i'm dead because i've been such a burden#i'm deaf and i've got chronic fatigue and walking is hell for me but i try not to let it show#i feel like if i stop my performance i'm going to die#finita thats it thats done#i'm so fucking ingenuine i hate it but its better than being a fucking rock when i hang out with people#i hate that i was spending time with some folks down by the river and all i could think of was how i can drown myself#they would deem it an accident because yknow#i've been here since 8 am its now 6pm and i can't help but think of just offing myself in the most quiet way possible#i don't kmow if i'll make it through the month#but i think i'll be okay#i hope i will be okay. i will be okay#gOD WHAT IS THIS COUNTRY MUSIC MY FRIEND IS PLAYING#honestly the shock of hearing american english shocked me out of my daze 2hat the fuck#this music makes me want to go fully deaf#imagine being in the deep asian wilderness and outside the toilets youre taking a breather at fucking american country songs start blasting
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hershelchocolate · 7 months
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So many fic ideas I want to write,,,,,,,but no alas I must resist,,,,,,I gotta get SOMETHING going for my graphic novel so I can actually start drawing the thing before I write anything else 😔
BUT ALSO WHAT IF I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT THE SILLIES
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catscidr · 3 days
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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //
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i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k
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blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.
you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.
you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.
the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.
he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.
“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.
your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.
he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.
“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.
he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.
“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.
you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?
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gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.
the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.
it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!
he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.
but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?
every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.
though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.
“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.
“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.
the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.
“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.
sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.
“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.
“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.
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boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him
he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!
you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).
boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.
(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)
he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.
it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.
so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.
“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.
“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.
you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.
watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.
“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.
you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.
“so… got another round in ya?”
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greatstormcat · 7 months
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COD Omegaverse Part 2
Part 1 part 3
Alpha!Ghost x Omega!Soap x Omega!f!reader
TW: MDNI 18+, fluff and smut, double penetration, anal, threesome, angst, past trauma
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Gaz looked at you, still smiling to himself as you stared at him in confusion. Who would be interested in you? Why even would they? As far as Omegas went you were not the perfect, dainty little specimen that Alphas craved and fought over. You didn’t cower and submit to stronger figures automatically, you only gave respect where it was due, when it was earned. Up until now you’d never even been with an Alpha, for fear they’d scent out your secret and tell the world. You’d put up strong walls around yourself, for your own protection, avoiding physical intimacy. That was, until you found your Pack with the 141.
the soft kindness in Gaz’s eyes, almost looking like pity now, made you start to wonder if those walls had been built too tall, too thick for your own good.
“I know you’re whole thing about hiding your designation,” he said quietly, “but have you considered you’ve gotten so good at it you’ve started losing who you are? Perhaps you’ve gotten so good at hiding you are missing out on something important?”
“Gaz, I’m scared if I let anyone close I will lose who I am anyway,” you reply.
“You have seen the other Omegas on base, they are in the same boat as you. You’re just as strong as any of them, I’ve even seen you take down Soap in drills. Just think about it, and open your eyes to what’s going on around you for fucks sake.” He grinned as he finished speaking, again hinting that you were oblivious to something everyone else saw.
Ghost was waiting outside the entrance to the Medbay, and looked up as you came outside.
“Wanted to check you were okay and take you back to barracks,” he explained, looking you up and down. “You’re still looking pale, you eaten yet?”
“Yes, I have Lt, just need some sleep now,” you reply, scratching at the raw mark where the IV needle had been taped into your arm. His eyes caught the movement and he took your arm in his hand to inspect the red skin, turning your arm gently side to side. As he did, you spotted that his gloves were rolled back slightly exposing his wrists. It was an odd habit he’d gotten into around you over the last few months and…
The realization hit you like a vengeful god had struck you with a thunderbolt. You suddenly thought of all the times Soap had found an excuse to hug you, put his arm around you, marking you with his scent. Ghost had a habit of being near you during exercises and drills involving other Alphas, always being teamed up with you or sudden switches happening bringing him nearer. Gaz’s words rang in your head, you really had been oblivious to something so clear.
Ghost stopped what he was doing and looked at you, eyebrow raised.
“Problem?” He rumbled.
“No, sir,” you replied but your face betrayed the mix of emotions you felt.
“Well, let’s get you back. You look like crap still,” he told you, and then wrapped his hand gently around your arm to move you along.
“Lieutenant, can I ask you something rather personal,” you asked.
“Yeah,” he replied simply, still guiding you along a route he knew that you knew perfectly well.
“You and Soap,” you started but didn’t know how to continue your line of questioning. What did you want to ask? Did you even really want to know the answer?
“You gonna finish the question or am I expected to guess?” He asked with a chuckle, looking down at you. The hand on your arm shifted and slid up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your neck very so slightly.
“Let me try again. I wanted to know if you were serious about what you said back in Price’s office, that you were fine with me going around with your scent on me?” The movement of his thumb was very light, enough that you were able to resist the sensation while still enjoying it.
“Sergeant, you are one of the smartest soldiers I’ve ever worked with,” he began, “but you can miss obvious so easily sometimes.” He didn’t make it sound insulting, like it was just an observation instead so there was no sting in his words. “Soap and I have been interested in you since before we even knew you were an Omega.”
He stopped walking, and you realised you were outside your door now. He stood in front of you, hand slipping from your shoulder to the back of your neck now, his eyes burning into yours.
“We’ve talked and, well, we’d like to court you, if you’d be interested?” There was your answer, and now your Lieutenant was waiting for yours while resting his hand on the back of your neck. There was nowhere to hide now, he knew you and knew you well, his eyes watching your face carefully.
“I’d like that,” you
A few days after your talk with Ghost, Soap caught up to you as you were heading towards the rec room. He approached carrying a paper bag in his hand as he called out to you. When you slowed to greet him, his smile warm and infectious, he held the bag to you unceremoniously.
“What’s this?” You asked, opening the bag and peering inside. You pulled out a soft, thick blanket and it smelled heavily of Soap, as though he had purposely scented it himself before giving it to you. You stared at it in shock and confusion. “It’s a blanket…”
“It’s a courting gift, for your nest,” he said with a confused frown which turned to concern when he saw no sign of understanding on your face. “You have a nest, dontcha?” You swallow back tears, despising the feel of the pain in your chest.
“I’ve never actually nested,” you admit, rubbing the soft material between your fingers and releasing more of the wonderful scent. “If someone found it…” your voice cracked and you stopped speaking, unable to meet Soap’s eyes as you knew there would be pity in them.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “That’s a powerful instinct to ignore. Even I’ve always made sure I have somewhere to go, even when I was hidin’ my designation.” He sighed deeply and leant his head against yours so he could speak as softly as possible. “Be honest with me, are you ashamed of yourself? Of being an Omega?”
The one question you had never wanted to be asked hung in the air before you, and there was nowhere to run from it. You clenched the blanket in your fists, tears burning your eyes worse than any chemical warfare agent you had ever experienced, and nodded once.
The hug Soap enveloped you in was tight and fierce, crushing the air from your lungs with its intensity.
“Right, how about this, I will help you build yerself a nest. Okay?” He looked you squarely in the eyes, palms pressed to the sides of your face. He blinked as a thought struck him and he got up, grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind him. “Come on,” he said, as you were pulled down the hallway to the quarters he shared with Ghost. Soap opened the door and pulled you in, shutting it firmly behind you before turning to face you, his expression unreadable.
“This is to show you that I am serious about how I, we, feel about you and that you don’t need to be ashamed. Okay?” He said, resting his forehead against yours. The mixture of scents in the room were a symphony as Soap tugged your hand and led you to the far side of the bed. There, tucked into the corner was a collection of blankets, pillows and clothing. The smell rising from it was a strong mixture of both men and their bond, and it crept into your head teasing and calling to you.
“It’s okay,” he encouraged you, helping you take off your boots and easing you into the collection fabrics. You made sure not to disturb anything as you sat down, and Soap quickly joined you, pulling you down to curl with him against his chest.
The effect was immediate and intense. You relaxed, felt yourself let go of all tension and melted against Soap who held you gently in his arms, stroking your hair. Your eyes drifted shut as your heartbeat slowed, you allowed yourself to nuzzle against Soap, and that was when you felt the vibration in his chest begin low and gentle. It took longer than it should have to realise he was purring as he held you, and the sound drew you further into a state of contentment.
The door opened and you flinched before Soap shushed you, a low chuckle sounding in his chest. You heard an audible inhale of breath as Ghost caught your scent in his private quarters.
“What the fu…” Ghost’s words died in his throat as he moved around the bed and saw Soap and you curled together in the nest. “Johnny, care to explain?” He asked softly, his eyes bouncing between the pair of you as slowly eased himself down to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t get too excited, Simon,” Soap chuckled, “just needed to show the lass what she’s been missin’. Ghost watched as you sat up, Soap continuing to lounge propped up on his elbow beside you but resting his hand on your knee.
“Yeah? What’s that?” Although you couldn’t see his face, his tone betrayed what you imagined would be a huge grin beneath his balaclava. You wondered if he would remove it if you accepted their proposal as mates.
You met Ghost’s eyes and gave a shrug.
“He’s going to help me build a nest. I’ve never had one before,” you explain.
“No nest?” Ghost repeated incredulously, his brows furrowing as he looked down at you and he took a deep breath then blew it out slowly as though controlling himself. “How have you ended up living like this? It’s more than just hiding your designation, something happened to you in the past...”
“My dad, he would rant about Omegas a lot when I was little,” you explained. “He said Omegas were attention seekers, whores or worse. When I started to present as one, he lost it and kicked me out,” As much as it hurt you to relive the memory, being able to share it was cathartic, especially whilst Soap cradled you against his chest.
The scent of Ghost’s anger cut through the air, his hands clenched until his knuckles went white and he growled low in his throat.
“Simon,” Soap warned his mate gently, recognising the protective edge of Ghost glinting through his outer calm. Ghost shook his head, running his head over the top of his head. “She knows she doesn’t have to live like that now, it’s okay.”
“I do, it’s okay. I know I’ve been living half a life up to now and you’re both helping. Honestly.”
You carefully got out of Soap’s nest and stood up, feeling content and more sure of yourself than you had in years.
“I should go,” you said with a smile, picking up the bag containing the blanket.
“I’d rather you stayed,” the Alpha said firmly, “but it’s up to you.” You walked to the door. “Wait,” came a firm command which stopped you in your tracks. Ghost stood and walked to you pulling his t-shirt over his head as he went, then held it out to you with a raised eyebrow. “Johnny gave you his gift. This is mine, maybe it can be the start of your first nest.” You hear Soap swear softly, and you accepted the warm fabric. You pressed it to your nose and inhaled, earning a satisfied hum from the Alpha, who nodded with approval.
“Thank you, both of you,”
It took a few days, a trip off base during some down time with Soap’s guidance, but you finally completed construction of your nest. Once you had allowed yourself to start the project you were amazed at how important the task became to you. The placement of each item was carefully scrutinised and adjusted, until you were happy with the outcome. Ghost’s t-shirt was given a prominent position, alongside the blanket Soap had given you at the start of the endeavor.
Eventually you felt comfortable enough that you decided to invite the other Omega to join you.
“You ready for that, hen?” He had replied after you made the offer in a break in training.
“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t, would I?” You replied with a grin.
“Fair enough, it’s gonna drive Simon nuts you realize?” he smirked, nodding across at the Lieutenant who was busy across the training ground. “He’s dying to see what you’ve made, and if you’ll ask him to see it.”
“All in good time, you’ve both been patient with me and I can’t be grateful enough for that,” you said. “But between you and me, I promise he will very soon.”
Later that day, you opened the door to your quarters in answer to Soap’s knock. His gorgeous, smiling face greeted you, and you bite your bottom lip to fight the urge to kiss him then and there.
“Come on in,” you smiled, letting him step inside. He looked around happily wandering about the space, stopping only when he saw your nest.
“Looks good, you’ve done well for a first timer,” he said softly, giving you another beaming smile. You lowered yourself down into the comforting softness and beckoned him in with you. Soap moved gently beside you, slipping his arm under you and shifting you so he could spoon up behind you in the warmth of the nest.
This time, when you began to relax, it was you who purred. It was the first time in your life you had felt safe and happy enough to do so, and Soap kissed the back of your neck in response. His own purr started shortly after, and you wondered what Ghost’s response would be to having two mates with him just like this moment.
You felt Soap’s lips on the skin of your neck again, leaving a tingling wetness behind that cooled under his breath, and a rush of arousal coursed through your veins. It bled into your scent almost instantly in your relaxed and unguarded state.
“Soap…” you whispered, hips gently pressing back against his.
“I know, hen. Can smell it on ya,” he whispered against your neck and placed a firmer kiss. He slipped his hand down from your hip to your thigh and squeezed. “Not yet though, love. I promised Si I’d keep my paws to myself for now.”
You sighed with frustration. “I know, it’s probably best while we work out what we are doing. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck,” you pour playfully.
“Can’t be too careful now,” he agreed and placed another kiss against your neck despite the obvious effect it had on you.”how ‘bout I go and let you rest, rather than get you riled up?”
“Okay, and say goodnight to Ghost for me,” you say as Soap got up, cresting a cold space behind you that you instantly hated. “Actually, let him know I’d like him to come here tomorrow after training. If he wants to, that is.”
Soap grinned even wider than before.
“Aye, he will be here, trust me on that.”
Ghost looked down at the fabrics, eyes taking in the items from Soap and himself with pride, his chest swelling.
“That’s a good nest,” he said with a nod, and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a wad of black fabric. “Just needs one more thing though,” he unfolded the wad to reveal one of his balaclavas.
“Oh, yes that would be nice,” you reached out for it, but he pulled it back.
“No, that one's clean, no scent on it,” he said and reached up and pulled the one he was wearing off his face. He smiled at you, messy blonde hair ruffled by the mask, lips crooked with scars and a nose bent from too many breaks, but warm and beaming at you all the same. Your heart thundered in your chest as you looked at him. “You take this one,” he held out the mask to you, smirking at your shocked response. “The other ones for later when I leave.”
“Thanks,” you managed to say, and cracked a massive smile back at him before gesturing towards the nest.
He squeezed himself into the space with you, thick limbs adjusting with instinctual ease to surround you, protect you like any good Alpha should. Like you Alpha should, the thought came so easily now. His nose pressed against your scent gland and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, your body suddenly falling soft and limp. He felt your reflex, and chuffed against your skin.
“You’re a good Omega,” he said softly, lips just touching against your neck. “You shouldn’t feel you need to hide, be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you sir,” you whisper back.
“I think we can forget that ‘sir’ stuff for now. Simon will do just fine.”
“Thank you, Simon,” you grin. There was an answering growl from him as he heard his name leave your lips, and he kissed at your gland sending another wave of bonelessness through you which this time you managed to resist. He chuckled in response, a deep and wicked sound.
“Yeah, such a good fucking Omega,” he growled and kissed harder at the raise flesh to test you. This time a whimper escaped your throat as you fought the urge to submit, and Ghost pushed his hips against your backside, rubbing his hardening cock against you.
When his tongue ran over the sensitive patch of skin, you moaned openly and he pulled your shoulder back so he could kiss you. His tongue slid against your lips and you opened obediently for him, letting him taste you deeply. You curled your fingers into his hair and tugged, deepening the kiss and urging him on. The smell of arousal suffused the air around you, but he suddenly pulled back.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. “We’re not going any further though, just so you know.”
“Yeah, Soap said the same thing yesterday. Something about being careful until I decide what to do.”
“That’s right,” Ghost replied softly. “I don’t want you making a decision in the heat of the moment that you then regret. We want to be your mates, but only if you’ll have us.”
“Well, I accept you both.”
Ghost pulled off his mask the second the door his quarters shut and turned the lock. In a blur of movement he then had you pinned to the wall beside the door, caged with his arms either side of your head and his face close to yours.
“Say it,” he said. Soap had been lounging in his nest and sat bolt upright as he caught the scent rolling off the two of you. When he heard Ghost’s words he got to his feet quickly and moved closer.
“What’s goin’ on?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he looked between Ghost and you.
“Say it. Tell Johnny what you said,” Ghost rumbled, eyes never leaving yours as you chewed the inside of your mouth trying to hide your smile.
“I said that I accept you both,” you replied firmly. Ghost’s mouth crashed against yours in an almost violent kiss, his hands pulling at your clothes desperately. Soap swore under his breath and began to strip as well, knowing full well what would happen now.
The three of you tumble onto the bed, you pulled Soap towards you to kiss him as well, as Ghost kicked away the remaining items of clothing. For a moment he stood and admired the two Omegas in his bed, his Omegas, as Soap kissed you with equal ferocity to his current mate.
You felt Ghost’s hands skate along the inside of your bare thighs and glanced down, but Soap pulled your attention back to him by nipping your bottom lip. You tried to cry out when Ghost’s tongue pressed against your slit but Soap swallowed the sound with his persistent and demanding mouth.
Ghost’s tongue worked up and down your slit, drawing out your slick with each pass until you were moaning and writhing with the need for more.
This was nothing like before, they were taking their time with you, there was no burning pain this time, just the pleasure of the three of you being together because you chose to be. This was happening because you wanted it to.
Soap kissed along your jaw, neck and then collarbone before running his tongue across the swell of your breast. As Ghost began to tease your clit with his tongue, Soap flicked at your nipple with his tongue. The dual sensations caused you to shudder with pleasure, eager to see where this would lead.
With a rumbling moan Ghost pressed his mouth against your pussy and licked deep into you, pushing as far inside as he could go, causing your back to arch up off the bed.
“Oh fuck!” You gasped out as you felt his tongue moving in and out of you, his hands gripped your thighs to keep them spread open for him.
Soap watched with a lax mouth, mesmerized by the sight before him, his hard cock straining with need. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around Soap’s length and began to pump it, drawing a guttural moan from deep in his chest and his head fell back on his shoulders in ecstasy. You felt the huff of air leaving Ghost’s lungs as he watched you and Soap, but his tongue never stilled. As Ghost pushed you closer to orgasm, your hand worked Soap feverishly, your combined moans music to his ears and precum dribbled along the hard shaft of Soap’s cock.
Without warning Ghost sat back on his heels, chin and mouth coated with your slick as he watched Soap tremble, nearing orgasm at your ministrations.
“Johnny, I want you here, now,” Ghost ordered, pulling the Omega to position himself between your shaking thighs, and then pressing between his shoulders so he was on top of you. “You can come after when she does, not before.”
Soap lined his leaking cock up with your entrance and pressed in, hissing at the tight heat as it surrounded him, and you moaned wantonly as he began to thrust into you slowly taking you closer to your orgasm. There was movement on the bed, and Soap suddenly stilled and shuddered.
“Fuck… Si, what are you… ah!” You felt Soap’s cock twitching inside you, and you realised that Ghost was behind him sinking his cock into the other Omega’s slicked hole. When Ghost thrust into him, you felt the force through Soap’s cock and gasped.
“Remember Johnny, not before she cums,” Ghost growled and began thrusting. You were already teetering on the brink of orgasm, but the sight and feel of Ghost fucking Soap into you pushed you quickly over the edge and you orgasmed hard clutching onto Soap’s shoulders. Your inner walls clenched onto Soap’s straining length as Ghost pounded into him, and he followed you over the edge quickly, gasping and whimpering with the sensations.
Soap carefully moved off of you, kissing you tenderly, and you felt Ghost move himself into position. His cock glistened with Soap’s slick as he teased it against your sensitive flesh until you rolled your hips, chasing the blunt head as he collected Soap’s seed as it leaked from you.
With one smooth thrust Ghost pushed into you, the ripples of your first orgasm merging into a new wave of pleasure, building towards another quickly. Ghost leant down to you, his breathe coming in harsh pants until he latched onto the side over your neck, drinking in your scent and you felt his knot growing and catching. The pressure when it finally caught made you cum again.
As you orgasmed again Ghost sank his fangs into your gland, marking you as his mate, and you fell completely limp in his arms as he came, painting you inner walls with his cum. The mark throbbed, but in a wonderful way, and Ghost lay you carefully on the bed, your back against Soap. Both men, your mates, pressed themselves against you, damp with sweat and scents mingling into one beautiful bonding scent, along with the combined purrs of both Ghost’s Omegas.
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mrrharper · 3 months
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Bro Advice
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bruh, you 'kay there dawg? cause yer sittin' here all moody n' depressed dude and im like this ain't right, yeah bro?
ah, ya what dude? failed an... exam bro? huhuhuhuh bruh, come on dude, don't be a pussy 'bout it, who cares bout some random exam lol bro
okay, okay bro, i see yer real invested in this exam bullsh-- in this exam, and im here like why bruh? you're at the gym bro, ya should be like pumped and ready to lift dude
yer career depends on it? bruh, there ain't nothin' worth broodin' over like you're doin' right now bro, just nah dude, life just continues bro, you just stand up and get some weights on the rack huhuhuhuh am i right bro?
brooooo! am tellin' ya, arms and chest is like the perfect thing for a shit day bruh-- yer not a gym-obsessed dumbass? dawg, gym's like the only thing worth obsessing over huhuhuh bro, am tellin' ya
nah dude, ya need some correctin' that attitude bro, cause let me tell ya bro, yer just thinkin' too much my dude
bro, don't fight it, believe me bro, yer gonna feel so fuckin' good bro, you lust gotta let go, just not hold as many fuckin' useless thoughts in that head of yours bro, its like so simple bruh
ugh, bruh that's cause you're fightin it dude, like try this bro, like, come 'ere bro, were gonna do some curls bro, gotta get these guns pumped huhuhuh
yeah bro, get these movements steady dude, rep after rep, yeah like that dude, feel them repeat, one after the other, almost endless bro
exactly bruh, yer killin it dude, just keep pushin', yeah like that-- nah bruh, ya can't just go back to talkin' bout that... i don't even remember what ya were broody about bro, see, that's what yer s'possed to so - just kinda forget bro, cause it ain't important dude
dawg, ya don't understand, and yer the one with too much thinkin' huhuhuhuh, good one, anyway bro, ya have to let it go bruh, let it go
don't be a fuckin nerd bro, am yer big bruh and am gonna take care of ya, but ya can't just turn into some pussy, ya get it bro
fuck yeah dude, get that PB bro, let's fuckin' go brah! see, yer doin' great bro, ya just gotta push yourself on the bench dude and that's all it takes
huh, bro, no idea what you're on about dude, like, ya came to the gym and we're doing a workout, what else is there to it?
nah bro, yer like my lil' bro, ain't that right huhuhuh, cause im like, makin' sure yer a proper bro in the gym, yeah?
dude, uni's not a thing for real bros like ya or me, it's for lame nerds who can't even lift 50 lbs on the bench, fuckin' hell those damn pussies, we ain't like them bro, we're real men bro
i mean, just look at yourself, these pumped guns and chest, some nice thick thighs, bro yer a real bro, like myself dude, no denying it
i bet yer mind feels foggy huhuhuhuh, you just lifted like a lot bro, you gotta take a break after this dude
nah, man, am pretty sure we've been like, bros in the gym for like, months, weeks, who gives a fuck, but I can tell ya that i ain't quittin' bruh, ill take care of ya, lil' bro, just like ive always done, right bruh?
right bro
yer my bro, dude
always have been
and ain't nothin' gonna change that
duhuhuhuh these are some nice biceps bro
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waywardducks · 9 months
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Incorrect bat family quotes but as things me and my sibling have done/said.
Jason: *just trying to read* *feels an eery presence just watching him.*
Damien and Tim: *both just starting at him*
Jason: Yes? Can I help you?
Tim: Slushies
Jason: okay?
Damien: Take us to them.
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
Dick: *Chilling in his bed*
Cass: *very slowly opening the door to his room*
Both: *just stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time*
Dick: Please, child. What is it? I can't handle this suspense.
Cass: *quietly* I have a pool party today…
Dick: okay? I'm glad for you.
Cass: …
Cass: Can you go buy me tampons?
Dick:
Dick: Of fucking course I can go buy you tampons! *already jumping out of bed* What size?
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
Damien: *angry, slamming doors, punching walls, screaming at everyone*
Tim: Autism is one hell of a bitch
Dick: Tim, no
Jason: No, no, he's got a point. We really should get him checked out.
Damien: I CAN HEAR YOU
*he was diagnosed with autism the following month*
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
Stephaine: *putting makeup on Cass* almost done!
Tim: we need to hurry, the movie is starting soon
Stephanie: It's fine, we have plenty of time, now let me do your makeup.
Dick: What are y'all doing? Why is everything… pink?
Cass: We are going to watch Barbie
Dick: Can I come?
Steph: Nah it's girls night?
Dick: Then why is Tim going?
Steph: He's one of the girls, obviously.
Tim: Yeah, obviously.
Dick: *crying* I wanna be one of the girls too
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
Bruce: Hey, Tim
Tim: Yeah? What's up?
Bruce: Remember how you're therapist mention she thought you might have ASD?
Tim: Yeah, she said she wasn't %100 percent sure on it though.
Bruce: Well she just sent me a document confirming your diagnosis.
Tim:
Dick: Woah dude! Congrats on the tism!
Jason: Welcome to the spectrum little bro!
Damien: Is Dick the only one that isn't ASD?
Dick: *is sad bc he's left out of the club again*
- ✨✨✨✨✨✨
Dick, Tim, Jason and Damien: *driving down the road at 4 in the morning, blasting fnaf songs at full volume* IVE GOT NO TIME!! I've GOT NO TIME TO LIVE
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
Tim: Jason. I'm bi
Jason: Okay
Tim: Okay? That's all you have to say?
Jason: damn Tim, tf you want be to say? Sorry?
Tim: No! I just thought-
Jason: If you have boy problems go to Dick. He's the one with the most experience in that field.
Dick: Hey! I resent that!
Jason: Oh please, you can call yourself straight all you want but you and both know you've what kinda person you were when you first became Nightwing.
Dick: I wasn't gay Jason I was a slut its different.
Jason: sure, okay.
-✨✨✨✨✨✨
I'm gonna make this a series lmao. Being in a house with 6 kids gives you a lot of stories.
Also, yes, 3 of my younger siblings are officially diagnosed with autism. (Damien and my sister are literally the same person. I have so many headcanons about it, it's not even funny. She even has the same insane art skills, I'm terrified of how fast she learned to do things I've been in school for years to learn)
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kiibichio · 3 months
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PLAY DATE ✩ M. STURNIOLO
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OVERVIEW ;; you and matt are friends w/ benefits, so he hits you up .. you walk to his house and have a “play date” !!
CONTAINS ;; matt x fem reader, sub&dom ! matt, fwb ! matt, pet names, oral (m ! receiving), use of y/n, unprotected sex, angst (?) near the end !! (that’s it i think??)
kiki speaks ;; okay so this was based on THIS tik tok because omg he’s soooo. but anyways… ENJOYY (also this is my first smut EVER so please excuse me if it’s kinda sucky) PART TWO OUT NOW!!
date published ;; 02.17.24
not proofread !!
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5:57 pm.
i lie in my bed, excruciatingly bored. watching some show that i have little interest in, when i get a text from one of my friends, matt.
“hey, are you free rn?” the text read.
me and matt had been friends ever since he moved to los angeles. i also got along with his brothers well, so we would always hang out and go places together. a few months after becoming friends with them, i broke up with my ex-boyfriend and got closer to matt.
one day, matt and i had a conversation and decided we wanted to try some things, so we hooked up. without feelings. which brings us here. friends with benefits. although i might just be breaking that ‘no feelings attached’ rule, but he doesn’t need to know.
“yea?? whats up?” i reply
“chris and nick are gone. come over?” he asks
“sure, just give me like 5 minutes” i sent back
finally. ive been waiting for his text all week. last time we spoke was like 4 days ago. i quickly put on some light makeup, a cute & comfy outfit, spray perfume and head out the door. the triplets only lived about 2 minutes away from me so, i could just walk there. which i did often and most definitely will do now.
once i arrive at the triplets’ home, i give the door a knock and it opens, with matt standing on the other side of it.
“hey matt-” i get cut off by him grabbing me by the waist and kissing my harshly in the doorframe.
“sorry. just couldn’t wait.” matt smirks, licking his lips while closing and locking the door.
“i can tell.” i spoke, a smirk crawling on my face too.
“c’mon. my room.” he demanded and grabbed my arm, dragging my to his room.
he brings me to his room and sits on the bed. i close the door behind us and walk over to straddle him.
“missed you, y/n. haven’t seen you in 4 days. ive been so busy-” he explains, holding my hips as i hover over him.
“shh.. matt we’re here now.” i speak before moving my mouth onto his, resulting in a rough, heated kiss, which turned into a make out. our tongues moving together in rhythm, exploring each others mouths.
i start grinding over his clothed cock, trying to gain some friction, letting out soft moans.
“hmm.. you like that, matt?”
“shit… yes- fuck” he breathes out
i continue my movements, going back and forth on him. i quickly slip my shirt and jacket off, matt following me and taking off his shirt as well. i unclasp my bra, matt took a nipple in his mouth almost as soon as i took it off.
“ah- fuck- someone’s impatient.” i groan out
“mhm..” he mutters
i feel his dick start to twitch under me, signing that he was close. i speed up my movements. he grabs my hips tightly and comes right on the spot.
“oh shit..” he moans
i move off of him and onto my knees, rubbing his cock through his pants.
“look at you, so fucked out already.. haven’t even gotten to suck you off yet.” i smile sinisterly
“don’t tease me, y/n.” he breathes
“oh don’t worry.. i won’t for long.”
i swiftly pull down his sweatpants and boxers and grab his cock. i kitty lick the tip then slowly lap a long stripe from his base to the tip before taking all of him between my lips.
“oh- god! mgh fuck- y/n.. don’t stop. shit!” matt moans out.
i bob my head up and down on his cock, letting out soft, quiet, noises, sending vibrations down it and making him shudder. my tongue hit every vein on him, very slowly. i continue my motions, making direct eye contact with him the whole time until i feel his dick start to twitch in my mouth.
“fuck, im close..” matt mutters.
“cum in my mouth, matt. i wanna take it all.”
with that, he shoots out white, thick ropes of cum down my throat.
“s’good for me, matt.” i tell him, sweetly, while standing up and taking my pants and underwear off.
“mhm…” is all he manages to get out while still sitting on the edge of the bed.
“now get on your back so i can ride you.” i say sternly, walking over to him
“yes ma’am” he chuckles under his breath
he moves to the middle of the bed, lying on his back. i hover over him, giving him wet, sloppy kisses all over his face and throat area. most definitely leaving marks.
i then lined him up with me and sunk down on him. when he bottomed out, we both let out a string of moans.
“shit matt..”
“oh you’re so good. fuckkkk”
as i take all of him in me, i wrap my hands around him and rest my head in the crook of his neck, waiting to adjust to his size. no matter how many times we do this, ill never get used to it.
once i was ready, i started moving up and down on top of him, trying to pace myself.
“mghh…. matt.”
“holy shit.. mm you’re so good. so perfect for me,” he whimpered, “taking me so good oh my god.” he continued to moan.
those words made me instantly clench around his cock as i bounced on it, speeding up my pace. the room filled with grunts, moans, curses and the sounds of our skin slapping.
my legs were starting to give out and my bounces got sloppier, matt noticed this and flipped us over. now we were in missionary, with him pounding into me relentlessly.
“oh fuck fuck fuck fuck matt” i managed to moan out
“yea.. mhm got tired after a couple of ups and downs huh?” he grunts
“ohhh matt shittt”
“that’s right, y/n. say my name. uh huh”
i came about as soon as he said that, but he kept going, chasing his high.
soon, his thrusts got slower, indicating that he was close.
“cum inside me, matt. i wanna take it.”
“oh fuck y/n. fuck” he groans, while his cum fills me up and falls on side of me.
we both lay there for a while, out of breath before matt speaks up.
“you can go now.. if you want.” he says
hearing that kind of broke my heart. i knew we weren’t supposed to have real feelings for each other but geez.. am i just some toy to him?
“are you serious? you just told me you ‘missed me so much’, but you’re letting me leave just like that? am i just some sort of play date to you?” i ask, sitting up. anger, sadness and confusion written all over my face
maybe i shouldn’t have said that.
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kiki speaks (again) ;; urmmm I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THISSS UGH 😭 i hope i did good and you guys enjoyed but this is my FIRST EVER SMUT AND FIC SO GO EASY ON ME. i would also really love tips from other writers bc idkkk. but TOODLES !! (p.s. DO U GUYS WANT A PT. 2 OF THIS BC IK I KINDA ENDED W A CLIFFHANGER-ISH TYPE THINGY??)
tag list ;; .. empty for rn 🍵
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rollingsins · 1 year
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all hers, part xix
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue
summary: Vindicated, Tara comes back home.
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Smut: strap-sex, pussy-eating, light choking, possessiveness.
word count: 4.7k
a/n: i'm alive! and pookie is free! thanks for all the love and patience with this chapter, hope you all enjoy :))))
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You ride with Sam to the police station. 
What you thought would feel like a euphoric victory suddenly feels hollow. 
There’s two. 
Of course. Why wouldn’t there be? It was always two. And you’d just murdered someone’s partner in crime, no doubt there would be retribution. 
It feels different this time. 
Wes had sent you spiraling, but Richie’s death leaves you almost unperturbed. 
He’d tried to kill Tara. Take her away from you. 
And you’d given him exactly what he deserved. The justice he thought he was delivering to you. 
It’d be scary, your nonchalance towards murder, if you didn’t have much more pressing matters. Namely, your girlfriend sitting in a five by seven jail cell. 
She’s still in there when you arrive. 
You can see her looking over at you through the bars. 
She looks terrible. Dark circles under her eyes, messy, tufted hair. She’s very the same clothes as she’d been brought in with and she’s staring right back at you, something in her face akin to fury and relief all at once. 
When they finally draw her through the doors she all but knocks you over in her flurry to get to you. 
You gasp. She’s tiny, but she lifts you off the ground with no qaulms. Presses you down and kisses you, a little rough. 
Then she drops you and rounds on Sam. 
“What the hell were you thinking?” She snarls. 
“I was thinking my baby sister is in jail and I needed to get her out.” Sam answers, smoothly. She presses a hand to Tara’s cheek, rubs at one of the circles under her eyes, “Are you okay?”
“No I’m not okay,” Tara snaps, batting her hand away, “I gave you one job and you-”
“-Killed him,” You interject. You draw her in closer, try and soothe her with a kiss, “It’s okay, baby. We got him.” 
One of them, is what you should say, but Tara’s so anxious you think it might send her right off the edge. 
She looks over at you, look in her eyes frosty. 
“Don’t even get me started on you,” She says, voice curt, “You’re in so much trouble. If you think I’m letting you out of my sight ever again-”
“I was worried about you too, baby.” You press a kiss to her hand, “Come on. Let’s go home.” 
-
Sam drives. 
Tara pulls you into the back seat with her, tugs you into her lap and pulls the belt around both of your bodies. 
You would think she’d been gone six months and not six hours by the way she kisses you. Desperately. Needy. Her hands roam wildly, like her sister isn’t in the front seat. 
Sam clears her throat. 
“Can you two not fuck in the back seat of my car?” She asks, “I just had the leather reupholstered.” 
It’s a perfectly reasonable request, but Tara glares at her like she’s just killed her puppy. 
“How could you not know you were fucking Ghostface this entire time?” Tara asks, gripping your hips, “You brought him into our lives, Sam, jesus.” 
You press your hands to Tara’s face, smooth her dark hair back. 
“Don’t you think I know that?” Sam says, voice quiet. 
“Tara,” You whisper into her ear, “Your sister has just been betrayed by someone she thought she loved. A little empathy wouldn’t hurt.” 
Tara’s quiet a long moment. 
Then she kisses your cheek. 
“Sorry,” She says to Sam, somewhat awkwardly, “I know it must be a shock. It’s not your fault, Sam. Are you okay?”
Sam peers into the backseat, face awash with surprise at Tara’s newfound empathy. 
“Don’t worry about me,” She says, “What we should be worried about is his partner. Mindy’s right, Richie wasn’t Ghostface the night he attacked you. It was someone else.”
You fiddle with Tara’s fingers, nervously. The very thought of there being someone else who wanted to hurt Tara out and about and walking around in the world made you want to cry. 
Tara rubs your back, reassuringly. 
“So we’ll catch whoever it is and dig them a grave next to Richie,” She says, more to you than Sam. She presses a kiss to your cheek and lowers her voice, “Are you good, baby?” 
She’s referring to the murder you’d just committed, no doubt. 
She has fears you’ll freak out again and jet off to a cabin with your family like last time, you can tell by the look in her eyes. 
But Richie isn’t Wes. 
Richie was guilty, and somehow it makes all the difference. 
“I’m fine, Tara.” You assure. You press a lingering kiss to her lips for good measure, “I’m just happy you’re coming home.” 
“It should have been me who did it,” She says, eyes mournful, “I’m sorry, baby.” 
You can feel a pair of eyes on you. You clear your throat, tilt your head into Tara’s neck. Sam’s watching, eyes squinted from the front seat. Like she has questions she needs answered. 
“Richie said you deserved to pay,” Sam says after a long moment. She’s looking at the two of you through the rearview mirror, a little confused, “He said if I knew what you did in your spare time, I wouldn’t be trying to protect you. What did he mean?”  
You swallow. Tara tilts back in her seat. 
“Who knows what he meant?” Says Tara, “The guy was a nutjob. Maybe I told him to fuck off out of my house one too many times.”
Sam hums. 
“You were a little harsh on him.” She says, absent-mindedly. 
Tara balks. 
“A little harsh on him? He was Ghostface, Sam.” She all but hisses. 
Sam waves her hand. 
“We didn’t know that at the time.” She says,. 
“You didn’t know that at the time,” Tara says, crossing her arms, “I knew it from the minute YN was attacked.”
She did, you remember all at once. So much could have been avoided if you had just believed her. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t take you more seriously, babe.” You say, pressing your hands to her cheek. She leans up and kisses you. 
You press your nose to hers.
“Was it horrible?” You ask, brushing the hair out of her face, “Jail?” 
Tara brushes it off. 
“It was fine,” She says, “It was fine until I heard over the radio there had been an attack at the school.”
You kiss her, soft. 
“I’m sorry, babe,” You say, “It was the only way to get you free. And it worked.” 
“You broke your promise to me, Sam,” Tara says, an edge to her voice, “You promised me you wouldn't lead her into danger.” 
“I’m sorry, Tara,” Sam says, “I knew it was the only way you’d go without a fight.” 
“You lied to me.” Tara says, and you squeeze her hand. 
“I’m sorry.” Is all Sam says. 
She parks the car, looks over at her sister. 
Tara clicks her seatbelt off. 
“Whatever,” Tara says, “But if you think I’ll trust you with her ever again-”
“I’m not a dog, Tara,” You say, frowning, “Going there was my choice too.”
“And you need to promise me you’ll never do something like that again.” Tara says, voice serious. She holds out her hand, “Please baby. Do you have any idea what I’d do if I lost you?”
“I thought I’d lost you.” You say. You press into her side, kiss her once more, “I thought the Sheriff had taken you away from me for good.” 
“She’ll never keep me away from you.” Tara says, voice stern. She presses a long kiss to your forehead. 
“As sweet as this is,” Sam says, tilting her head to the porch, “We’ve got a welcome party.” 
-
Chad, Liv and Mindy are waiting by the porch when you enter. 
You let them all in, watch as Sam triple locks the doors, and head to the den where Mindy sets up camp once again. 
She has a fresh powerpoint with a list of suspects. It’s a little impressive - and Sam rushes off to the kitchen to fix Tara a meal as you all settle down.
“What was prison like, Tara?” Liv asks, wide-eyed, “Did you have to join a gang?”
“I was there for less than six hours, Liv.” Tara says sounding exasperated, “And they didn’t take me to prison. Not a real prison. Just the holding cell in the Sheriff’s office.”
Liv nods, seriously. 
“I’ve heard in prison you have to exchange what you have for what you want,” She says, “We can bring you cigarettes, if you go back. My cousin Tammy said she exchanged sexual favors with some of the guards so she could get extra time on the phones.” 
Tara looks aghast. 
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Liv.” She says, nose wrinkled. 
You climb into her lap, kiss her softly. 
“She’s not going back there, Liv.” You say, “They have Richie now. He’s to blame for the killings.”
“But he’s not the only one,” Mindy says, voice serious, “And that brings me to my presentation.” 
She clicks play. 
Tara rolls her eyes. 
It’s a series of floating images; faces. Yours, Tara’s, Richie’s, Sam’s. 
It has everything. The exact times of the attacks. The weapons. The final slide is a picture of Richie, side by side with a giant gray question mark. 
“Richie has a partner,” Mindy says, “But the question is - who?” 
“Who was Richie close with?” Chad asks, sitting up. 
“No-one.” Tara says, “He stayed at home all day playing video-games in his boxers. He didn’t have any friends.” 
“He had at least one friend.” Mindy says, lowering her voice. She jerks her head towards the kitchen, where Sam is preparing food. 
Tara groans. 
“Mindy, not this again-” 
“It works.” Mindy says, voice hushed, “My baby-sitter theory. She comes back into town, the attacks start happening. We catch her boyfriend red-handed-”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” You say. Mindy tilts her head, “Sam was in on the plan. To catch Ghostface. If she was in it with Richie, why would she let him get caught?” 
Mindy pauses. 
“Maybe she was sick of him?” She suggests, “Maybe she wanted to break up with him but didn’t know how to do it?” 
“So she had him murdered?” Tara asks, eyebrow raised. 
“If she is Ghostface, she’s a psycho, Tara.” Mindy insists, “If she’s Ghostface she’s trying to kill her own sister. Why not her boyfriend?” 
“This is stupid,” Tara says, sounding tired, “Sam’s not Ghostface. She’s my sister. I think I know my own sister.” 
“I thought I knew Richie,” Sam says. Your head jerks over to her. She’s leaning against the doorframe, frown on her face. 
“Sam.” Mindy says, blinking, “I didn’t hear you come in.” 
Sam gives her a look. 
She settles down against the couch, beside Liv. 
“It’s fine,” She says, “I get it. I’d suspect me too.” 
“No one suspects you, Sam,” You offer, “Mindy just gets over-excited. Right, Mindy?” 
“I’m just considering all the options,” Mindy says, voice a little high. 
“And you should,” Sam says, “Right now, we should suspect everyone. Everyone except Tara and YN.” 
Silence fills the room. 
Chad looks up. 
“What if it’s Wes?” He suggests, a little hesitant. Mindy stares. Your heart flips at his name. Suddenly, your hands are clammy. Tara squeezes your hip, subtle as can be. 
“Wes?” 
Chad shrugs. 
“They never found a body. They never even found evidence of a crime. What if he skipped town, faked his own disappearance to get off the radar?”
“I really doubt that, Chad.” Tara says. 
“Why would Wes want to hurt Tara and YN?” Sam asks with a frown, “You guys were friends, right?” 
“Right.” You say, voice a little tight. 
“Wes had a crush on YN, everyone knew that,” Chad says, shrugging, “Maybe that’s why this Ghostface hates Tara so much. 
At this, Tara’s head snaps around. 
“What?”
Chad blinks.
“Yeah. I thought you knew?” He says, head tilted. He looks over to Mindy, “Right?”
Mindy nods, stern. 
“Everyone knew.” 
You wince as Tara’s hand tightens around your waist. 
“Well, no-one told me.” Tara says, eyes ablaze. She looks over to you, face enraged, “Babe, did you know?” 
“Of course not.” You say. You squeeze her hand, try to calm her down, “It’s Wes, babe. He never would have done anything.” 
And he’s dead. You leave that bit unsaid. 
It doesn’t seem to help. You recognize it immediately. It’s the Rage taking over. Tara’s chest heaves. Her eyes spark like fire. 
“Asshole.” She gasps, “Fucking asshole. He was supposed to be my friend-”
“Tara, it’s not his fault,” Liv says. She reaches out to touch Tara’s arm but Tara retracts like Liv’s burned her, “Really. You can’t help who you fall for.” 
“You can not have a crush on my girlfriend.” Tara says, sounding outraged. She looks around the room, to the sea of taken aback faces, “Anyone else have a crush on YN? Mindy? Chad?” 
“No.” They both say flatly, in unison. 
“Baby-” You touch her again, but she’s too far gone to reason with. 
“Sam? You’ve all but moved in. Made best friends with her parents. Do I have to worry about you as well?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tara.” Sam says, rolling her eyes, “Can we focus? What do the police have on Wes?”
“Nothing,” Mindy says, sounding a little gloomy, “No body, no evidence. I mean, they arrested Tara for his death so I guess he’s assumed dead?” 
“Put him on the slideshow.” Chad says, sitting up, “If we’re considering everyone, that is.” 
The rest of the afternoon is almost unbearable. 
Mindy and Chad bicker over who their top candidates are. Sam joins in, here and there. 
And Tara sits, arms crossed, pouting like a storm cloud ready to spark lightning over everyone.  
Chad and Mindy are halfway through an argument about what the next plan should entail when Tara stands suddenly, bringing you up with her. 
“It’s been a long day, can you all please leave, now?” She says, abruptly. 
Mindy looks over to her, apprehension on her face.
“Tara, is that a good idea? I mean, with Ghostface still out there and all? He could be back again tonight.” 
“We’ve got enough locks to house a small prison and Sam walking about with an arsenal like she’s Lara Croft. I think we’ll be fine.” Tara says, sounding tired. 
Chad looks over to Liv, touches her head. 
“You want us to stay?” He suggests, “We could all camp out in the living room, like a sleepover.”
“We’re good, thanks Chad.” Tara says, voice firm. She’s still annoyed, you can tell by the tone in her voice. What had been an offhand remark about Wes for Chad she’d been toiling with for the last two hours - you can tell by the look in her eye. 
“Are you sure?” Chad presses, “If Ghostface attacked you again and we could have done something about it-”
Tara cuts him off, voice curt, “I said, we’re fine, Chad. Besides, I’m about to nail my girlfriend and would rather you weren’t all down here listening.”  
“Tara.” You hiss, mouth open. Sam wrinkles her nose and sees herself back off to the kitchen. 
But it works. 
Chad blinks back at her, and without a word, leads Liv and Mindy to the door. 
And then Tara takes you by the hand and all but drags you upstairs. 
There’s a dangerous look in her eye. Foreboding, almost. Her shoulders are drawn, her eyebrows knit tight in a frown. 
It’s The Rage. 
And you need to get rid of it, fast, before she does something she’ll regret. 
“He’s dead, babe.” You say as she closes the door. You reach for her, but she withdraws from you, instead moving over to the window, watching her friends leave. 
You’re exhausted. The day has been brutal - the morning worrying about Tara and the afternoon putting a bullet through Richie’s brain. You want to collapse onto the bed, take Tara into your arms and not think about the days to come. 
The days to come with another Ghostface to contend with. 
But Tara has other plans. 
She’s pacing. Like she’s about to put on her Ghostface outfit and pry Wes’ body out of the river she threw him in. 
“How did I not know?” She says, eyebrows pinched, “Babe, if I didn’t know about him, who else do I not know about?” 
She chews her lip. 
“Mindy, I bet it’s Mindy. Mindy has a crush on you. Chad too, why not? He’s all brawn and thinks he can get any girl in this town. Hell, I bet Liv’s thought about you too.”
“Liv’s straight.” You say, voice stern, “And you sound crazy right now.” 
She looks over at you, eyes wild. 
“Do you like Mindy?” She asks, moving a little closer, “Do you think she’s cute? Would you fuck her, if I wasn’t around? Would you leave me for her?” 
She’s tiny, 5’1, but at the moment she looks seven feet tall. Shoulders drawn, she almost towers over you. 
Menacing. 
“Tara, you’re scaring me.” You say, taking a step back. 
She blinks. And then drops her shoulders. 
“Sorry,” She says, after a moment, “I’m sorry, babe.”
She brings her hands to her own face, and then sinks down into her mattress. 
“It’s taking over me, I can feel it.” She says, sounding mournful, “I’m trying to fight it, baby, I am.” 
You swallow. Move over to her and wrap your arms around her shoulders. 
“It’s okay, Tara,” You say, “Look at me.” 
She looks up, brown eyes wide. It’s still there, The Rage, you can see it swimming in her eyes. You lean down and press a kiss to her lips. 
“I don’t want anyone else, it doesn’t matter who it is,” You say, voice firm, “So tell The Rage to fuck off. It isn’t needed. No one is going to take me from you.” 
You kiss her again. Her hands grip around your waist, holding you tight. 
“Promise?” She asks. She looks so vulnerable. Like a child asking for her favorite toy. Her brown eyes are wide, mournful. 
“Promise.” You whisper and kiss her once more. 
She sighs against your lips. 
You curl your hands around her neck. 
She feels so good against you. Warm and solid and there. Not in a jail cell, facing life in prison. With you, under you, where she belongs. 
You push her back onto the bed and climb on top of her. 
You missed her. Less than six hours and you missed her. Like someone had cut off your arm or something much worse. 
Your kisses climb. You slip your knee between her thighs and press down onto her. 
She squeezes your hips. You slip your tongue between her lips. You move your body against hers. 
Her smell, her taste encompasses you. 
You move your hands down to her waistband. Fumble with the buttons on her jeans as you hurry to slide them off her. 
You manage to half pry them down her legs before she’s rising up and flipping you over onto your back. 
If getting you naked was an olympic sport - she’d win gold every time. 
You don’t even know how she does it so quickly. 
A single tilt of her wrist and your bra is unclipped, your shirt being pulled off in one quick swipe. Then, your skirt. Down your legs with your underwear faster than you can moan her name. 
She has the precision of a sniper. 
She spreads your bare legs and clambors between them, helping out your fruitless attempts to get her out of her shirt in seconds. 
Then she’s back on top of you, warm, naked, kissing you like she’s still in prison and you’re her last meal. 
She juts her hips out, hits you in just the right spot. 
You curl your hand around her neck, fingers gripping at her dark hair. Her lips don’t give you a moment to breathe. She’s kissing you desperately, hands on your hips, gently thrusting into you in that way that makes you soak. 
You moan her name, once, twice, before she’s pressing a final kiss to your lips and moving down your body to curl her hands around your thighs. 
It’s embarrassing the way she never needs to tease you. 
You lean back into the mattress, close your eyes as you feel her lips press to your inner thighs. 
“Mmm.” She murmurs as she grazes her lips over the inside of your thighs, “Looks like someone’s ready for me.” 
“Shut up.” You say, touching the back of her head, trying to press her into where you need her the most. 
“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your girlfriend,” She teases. She darts her tongue out, smoothes over the milky skin of your inner thigh. You let out a harsh sigh, thighs closing around her shoulders. 
“Baby, please.” You beg. 
She smiles. Presses one last kiss to your thigh. 
“That’s better,” She says, “Missed you too, babe.” 
Her tongue works against your folds, darting and licking up traces of your arousal like a hungry cat lapping at its milk. 
You lean back onto the mattress and sigh, taking your own breasts in your hands. 
It isn’t long before she’s trailed her way up to your clit, licking gently in the kind of way that makes you ache with desire.
You curl your hands in her hair and moan, softly. 
She presses a final loving kiss to your thigh before she’s moving up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. You make a noise of protest, but she leans down and quiets you with her lips. 
Then she’s retracting, eyebrows raised.  
“Fingers or strap?” She’s asking, eyes dark like she already knows the answer. 
“Strap.” You all but beg, and she gives you a wicked smile before rolling over and fumbling through your top drawer. 
Sam’s still downstairs, you think vaguely as you watch Tara slip into the harness. Sam’s downstairs and Tara’s looking at you like she’s about to make you scream so loudly the neighbors might complain. 
Tara climbs between your legs, a dirty grin on her face. 
She’s reaching over your body for the lube bottle but you touch her hand. 
“We don’t need it,” You say, voice graveled. She ducks down and kisses you. 
“We need it,” She promises. She bites at your bottom lip, a little playful, “I’m about to fuck you so hard and I want you nice and wet and ready to take it. I love you baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
You groan. 
She coats the tip of the dildo, then reaches her hands between your legs to massage it into you. You let out a sharp gasp at the cool of the liquid, but she makes it better instantly. Thumb on your clit, rubbing slightly and she sinks her fingers inside you. 
“Good?” She teases as you flush red. 
You’re in no mood for joking. You grab at the head of the dildo and tug her forward, pulling her on top of you and taking her lips in a desperate kiss. She slips her tongue into your mouth, distracted, only slightly, before she’s spreading your legs with her knees and reaching between her own legs to guide herself inside. 
Her mouth presses against your neck. 
You gasp as you feel it: the tip of her cock against your entrance, her hands around your hips keeping you from running from her. She sinks in slowly, biting her own lip as she looks down to admire her work. 
The stretch feels incredible. You dig your nails into the skin of her biceps, tilting your head back onto the pillows as she fills you up to the hilt. 
She’s still a moment, letting you adjust, before she’s leaning down once again to kiss you. 
“Does that feel good?” She murmurs, pressing her nose to yours. 
You nod. Curl your hands around her shoulders, burying your face in her neck. 
“Tell me.” She insists, tilting your face back up to her. 
“It feels really good, baby.” You say, voice high. She kisses you once, and then jerks her hips back. 
“Fuck.” You gasp. 
Her hands grip tight suddenly around your neck and your stomach flips. She thrusts her hips towards you, pulling back slightly to build a steady, hard rhythm. 
You’d gasp but her fingertips are tight around your neck, eyes ablaze with lust, and want and the kind of possessiveness that makes you spread your legs a little wider. 
“Nobody else will fuck you this good,” She says, jerking her hips forward once more, “Nobody. Not Mindy and her micro-strap, not Chad and his carrot dick and certainly not my sister and her-”
“Can we not talk about your sister when we’re fucking?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 
Tara slams into you a little harder, making you cry out. 
If Sam didn’t know what the two of you were doing up here, she certainly does now. 
But Tara doesn’t care. She pounds into you, her slow rhythm out the window. 
“Tell me you’re mine.” She growls. Her hands are back around your neck, “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Tara, only you.” You gasp. 
“Good girl,” She purrs. She drops her hands from your neck and leans down to kiss you, slow, “That’s my good girl.” 
She pulls back slightly, and you groan as part of her length slips out of you. She hushes you with a gentle squeeze to your thigh, before she’s taking your legs in hand and placing them over her shoulders. 
She slides back into you, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips. The position means she’s so deep it almost hurts. Her belly presses flush against your own, her hips moving only slightly as she settles into place. 
You reach out to touch her face, curl your hand around her cheek as you tug her down to kiss her. She shifts her hips slightly and it makes you gasp. 
You moan her name again. 
She kisses you fiercely, and you know that kind of kiss. It’s the kind she gives you before she’s about to let loose on you. It’s like a warning, and it makes you flood with arousal and grip the back of her neck tighter. 
She pulls back from your lips, eyebrows furrowed, determined look in her eyes, and then she’s holding onto your thighs and fucking you as hard and fast as her hips will move. 
The bed frame squeaks. She’s gasping, you’re moaning, the only kind of choir that could ever make you believe in God. 
It builds in you quickly - her furious fucking, the sight of her red lips and messy, hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead. 
You cry out, gasp her name and then stars are exploding behind your eyes as you cum. She grips your thighs, tight, not far behind. With a final messy thrust, her eyes are clamping shut as she gasps out and collapses against your body. 
Your ears ring. You wrap your arms around her body, press a kiss to her sweaty forehead, rubbing her back as she comes down. 
“I love you.” You murmur, “And I missed you so much.” 
She kisses you. 
“It was only six hours, babe.” She says, voice playful. 
“Worst six hours of my life.” You say. 
Her eyes sparkle. She nudges her nose against yours. 
Then, sparking you out of your love-filled bliss, there’s a knock at the door. 
“Tara. YN’s parents will be home any minute,” It’s Sam, sounding aggrieved, “You’re making the ceiling shake and the two of you sound like something out of a bad 80s porno. You might want to tone it down a bit.” 
Tara rolls her eyes. 
Embarrassment flushes through you.  It stains the tips of your ears and your cheeks bright red. 
“Thanks Sam, fuck off now please.” Tara asks. 
You groan, and push her off you. 
She sits up on her side, pout on her lips. 
“Don’t worry about her, she’s just mad she’s not getting any.” Tara says. She leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 
You pull her into your side, press your lips to the top of her head as she settles against your chest. 
The events from the day weigh over you like a wet blanket. But you can’t bring yourself to worry about them, not tonight. Tonight, all you want to do is be with her. Love her. 
Make your parents probably hate her even more. 
Judging by the way her hands run up your thigh, she’s on the same page. 
Ghostface is tomorrow’s problem. But tonight? Tara’s naked, and beautiful and yours and in your bed. 
Ghostface can wait.
684 notes · View notes
sukiipjs · 2 months
Text
✮ BLONDIE : PT 1
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↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader
↳ words - 2239
↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.
↳ contains - swearing, angst, use of y/n, internalized homophobia, depression, crying, idk??? [READ PT 2 - PT 3]
↳ song - blondie by current joys
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
nick has been my best friend for years, he’s always been there for me, and me there for him. we met in the first grade when he saw me alone at recess on the swings and he ran up to me, asking if i wanted to play with him and his brothers. one of the many things i love about him, hes always there, always there to help, or just be with. from that day on he’s always been my number one but honestly, i’ve been kind of avoiding him lately.
of course i don’t want to, i really really don’t want to, trust me, but i don’t want to make anything bad between us either. even though pushing him away is probably fucking things up anyway.
the thing is, for months, maybe even years now i think that i might be coming to a realization: i think i’m gay, or not gay but bi? i hate labels, i dont want to be put into a box, its honestly just hard to fit into one too. i mean i’ve had girlfriends before and i’ve liked that, but nick…
okay i might be coming to another realization: i think i’m in love with nick. and to make everything worse, i can’t even talk to anyone about this because the only person i would tell is nick, but if i told him, well i just cant, it could destroy our friendship. he’d hate me, i cant lose him.
but maybe i’m not in love with him, i mean i love nick, i always have but maybe its not love love? maybe its just me appreciating our friendship more. okay who am i kidding it’s definitely becoming more, I LOVE HIM. he’s just perfect, in general, to me, to everyone. i want to spend every moment of my life with him, i want to hug him and never let him go, i want to be with him, i just want to see him again.
i can’t even imagine what he’d say if he knew i liked him. he’d probably be disgusted, i’d ruin our friendship forever. i cant do that, i can’t risk anything like that, i need him even if that means the best thing i can do is just stay away, make up lies of why i cant hang out, slowly stop texting him, i mean maybe it's not the best thing but its either i do this and try and force these feelings down or i tell him and ruin everything. this is better, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
nick 🫶
| wanna hang out today? haven’t seen you in forever, i’m boredddd
| i know i’m sorry, but i cant today, really really sorry. still not feeling good
| that’s okay, hope you feel better though 💕 if you need anything tell me okay?
| i’d rather hang out with you and get sick then spend one more second with my idiot brothers over here 💀
i stare at the message on my screen, i’m not sick, i’m just trying to be a good friend… by avoiding my best friend… sure, whatever.
i slam down my phone on my mattress, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. muffled screams from my mouth as tears, start to pour from my eyes. every time i message him, saying i cant hang out i immediately regret it. i want to see him, i always do but again, i cant, i fucking cant. it would only make my feelings stronger and i just need to get rid of them as soon as i can so things can just go back to how they were.
fuck, here comes the spiral that ive been replaying in my head forever. do i even really like him? am i really bi, gay, straight, whatever the fuck? i don’t even know, it’s all too confusing and stressful right now. why can’t i just be me? and have my best friend with me again? actually hang out with him, see him?
all i can really do right now is continue screaming and crying into my pillow about how much of a shitty friend i’m being, great. I constantly stalk his instagram, trying to see if i do really like him and try to see what he’s up to without me, i miss him so much.
…i wish he was a girl then i would be straight and all this shit wouldn’t hurt so much. i’m not trying to say that being gay is bad, all i’m saying is that it would be easier to figure all this out if i was straight and he was a girl. i know that’s so messed up to say but i don’t know how else to put it.
if he was a girl, i’d know that i’m in love with him, i wouldn’t be so afraid to accept myself because there wouldn’t be anything to accept. i’d just be me and he’d she’d be him her, i’d get to be his her boyfriend and we’d be a happy couple. i’d be happy and i wouldn’t have to push the person i love most in this stupid world away…
i smash my face into my silky white pillowcase over and over, shaking my head as i force the sides of the pillow into my face more. i want to suffocate.
i scream into my pillow more and more. ‘i love you nick, i love you nick, i love you. i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you… but i do, i really really do, but i cant… i really really fucking cant.’
°:. *₊ ° . ☆
i stay rotting in my bed, spiraling about random shit, taking random quizzes of ‘am i gay?’ or ‘am i in love with my bestfriend?’ or ‘is it a crush?’ like i know.
soft blankets cover me, my silky pillows supporting my back as i rewatch rupaul's drag race on my computer until i finish it again, oreos and empty dr pepper cans surround me. and of course, nick always in my mind, everything reminding me of him, those stupid quizzes, his favorite show, his favorite drink. i wish he could be here, like how we used to hang out before i started ruining everything but i could be ruining it more, at least im keeping my mouth shut.
every once and a while, a message from nick pops up. him sending me a tiktok or telling me about how spacecamp is going or just something random, asking how im doing, if im still sick. most times i try to ignore him, turning off the notifications but i answer sometimes, only one or two words, maybe just an emoji, just trying to say something. i don’t want him to think i hate him or anything, i still of course love him.
the only time i ever get up from my bed is to go the the bathroom or get more food, ive been wearing the same two sweatpants alternating them and random shirts that i throw on the floor after i wear them for enough. my hair shaggy and a scratchy stubble on my face. i look and feel gross. i didnt think that forcing my best friend away and trying to figure out my sexuality could make me this depressed, who knew.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
weeks pass of me ignoring (or at least trying to ignore) nick and weeks of screaming into my sheets and sleeping all day become more and more. i finally decide to leave my apartment and stock up on some random things that will help me rot in my room even more: coffee, chips, oreos, whatever else i might want.
as i scan the aisle for dr pepper, standing in my gray hoodie with the hood covering me and one of the two sweatpants i’ve been wearing on, i hear a voice at the end of the row calling to me, “y/n?” my head turns to see who knows me that’s here, about to see how disgusting i look and just my luck, it’s nick.
“nick” a bright smile floods my face, i haven’t seen him for what seems like forever, i look at his blonde hair with grown out brunette roots, plus that signature nose ring and star earrings, of course he looks great.
he runs up to me, giving me a warm hug as he smiles too, “oh my god i haven’t seen you in decadessss” he exaggerates, laughing at me, “you feeling better now?” i tilt my head a little, confused but then i remember my lie. “oh yeah, i am. even though i dont look it” i try to scoff a laugh, looking down at myself, excusing how ‘i dont care’ i look right now.
“you look fine.” he laughs back again, “you know… me, chris and matt were gonna go out for dinner soon, wanna come?” i can tell he really wants me to be there and i really want to but i try to push it away, still.
“uhhh, i think had something later, sorry” my small smile slowly fading as his does too, i don’t think i’ve seen his smile leave that fast. “really? we haven’t talked in weeks, i miss you” he jokes a little, but really we do miss each other.
“i know, i’m sorry, but i promise we’ll hang out soon yeah?” i try to fake a small smile, trying to make this a little better but nick still looks sad, “yeah okay, see you later then?” he looks like he hates me, he looks just annoyed, hurt. i feel terrible.
“yeah, later” i’m about to walk closer to give him another hug but he leaves, to i assume go find his brothers, before i can. i’m terrible.
i finish up grabbing my things before leaving and driving off, replaying our interaction in my head. i could’ve just went? it was one dinner, that’s all. not a big deal. but it’s too late, it would just be weird if my schedule suddenly cleared up now.
°:. *₊ ° . ☆
i make my way back to my apartment, putting my bags down on the counter before going straight to my room again, flopping down on top of the pile of blankets and stuffed animals that cover my bed.
i dig in my pocket for my phone, taking it out as i grab a blanket to pull it over my face, closing off the sun that shines through my window.
i go straight to me and nicks messages, thinking of texting him. ‘i’m sorry’ too short, plain. ‘sorry, i was wrong i can go’ feels like i’m pitying him, plus just dumb. ‘i love you’ yeah definitely not. ‘come over? sorry’ again, stupid and he can NOT see the mess i have over here.
i decide on nothing and put my phone to the side of me, burying my head into my pillows again, tears flooding my eyes again again again. it’s too much. this is all stupid and i need to get over it all. this is terrible.
i go back to my cycle of curling up in warm blankets, eating my now new oreos and dr pepper and rewatching shows i’ve seen a million times before. and obviously stalking nicks instagram, he posted a story of him and his brothers at dinner. he’s still wearing those earrings and that same beige jacket he was wearing before, and he still looks great.
i swipe up, about to message him. ‘you look great, sorry i couldn’t come’ i quickly delete it and just like the story. i need to stop trying to message him when i’m trying to ignore him.
₊ ° .☆ °:. *₊
after falling asleep shortly after i finished looking at nicks story i wake up to like five texts from who? nick, of course.
nick 🫶
| are you ignoring me?
| like did i do something or what?
| are you okay?
| can we just talk or hang out please?
| y/n?
| okay sorry actually, never mind
my heart drops, i feel so TERRIBLE. nick did nothing and i never want him to think that he did something wrong. he’s perfect.
i pick up my phone to respond but honesty i don’t know if i should… i want him to know that he did nothing but he’s right about me ignoring him… fuck this. i just ignore him, still.
i shut off my phone fast and roll to my other side, curling up my legs and staring at the small textured bumps on the off-white wall that i face. i take in every detail, trying to distract myself with something else. i spot all the tiny discolorations or stains on the wall, the way it all starts to blur when tears, again, rain out my eyes.
they drip on the curves of my cheeks and lips, my hands are tucked under my legs as he tears drop onto my sheets, i don’t bother wiping them off. they make a small circle ish shape when it hits on my bed with a darker gray on my gray sheets.
my spiraling hits again when the ridges on my wall go dark as my eyes close. why can’t my best friend just be my best friend? why can’t i just be a normal person? why can’t i just forget it all? why can’t this all just go away? why? why? why? why?
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy
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nhescio · 3 months
Text
Okay I have a visceral need for a hannigram time travel fic but instead of the typical Will or Hannibal fix-it, the person that time travels back is none other than Frederick fucking Chilton. Like imagine Chilton wallowing around all crispy and stuff after being human torched wondering what he’s done to deserve everything he’s been through. And when he’s finally okay enough to be discharged from the hospital to go home, an anvil falls on him or smth. And as he’s lying there incredulously, he’s like, yknow what? Im not even upset about this. I think Ive suffered enough near death experiences. Please just let this one put me out of my misery. And as his eyes finally drift shut, he hears an alarm blaring in his face. An alarm from his phone. His phone which, when he goes to shut it off, displays an impossible sequence of numbers— the plastic screen shinning with a date from four years past.
So after freaking out and confirming that he is indeed in the past, (and weeping in joy over his unmutilated body) Frederick does the obvious— he packs his bags, pays a visit to the bank, and gets on the next available flight out of the country.
And then his plane crashes and he dies.
But of course he doesn’t die because that seems to be a common theme in Frederick Chilton’s life!
So he’s jolting out of bed again to that same alarm and he tries not to tear his own face off (not that he would ever actually do that cause he knows how easily he could lose that precious face). And (after a few more tries) since this time loop bs isn’t letting him run away, he does the next best thing— phoning the FBI with a tip so that they would investigate Hannibal Lecter and put him behind bars for good. But of course Hannibal somehow finds out and discretely shakes the FBI off his trail while simultaneously sending one of his murderer protégés after Frederick. And so not even a month passes by before Frederick finds himself dying and waking to that infuriating alarm again.
And he keeps going through different loops trying to avoid being “murder tableau of the week”, but failing miserably every time. After dying for what feels like an infinite number of times, he’s realized two main consistencies. Number one, he can’t personally expose Hannibal Lecter as the ripper if he doesn’t want to be gutted, and two, the sooner Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter begin their weird courtship, whether from Frederick’s deliberate meddling or from ripples of unrelated actions, somehow he’s left with much less blood and chaos in the aftermath. In one incredible timeline, Frederick even managed to only sustain one life threatening disembowelment for three years before accidentally making a rude comment about Will Graham’s lack of a social life, thereby leading to a cold death in the Atlantic.
After this revelation, he vows to get Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter to bang each other as soon as possible for the sake of his own self preservation— going through elaborate plans like befriending and recruiting the FBI’s forensics team, or snapping Jack Crawford out of his obliviousness so he’d bluntly give them a nudge, or even once flirting with Will Graham himself to get Hannibal Lecter jealous (note: that attempt did NOT end up well).
And one day, after a shocked text from his “Sassy Science Matchmaking Squad” group chat proclaiming that Hannibal and Will, lovingly dubbed Hannigram by the group, had spontaneously quit their jobs and run away to Europe together, Frederick suddenly realizes he hasn’t been stabbed or burned or maimed or drowned or disemboweled once! He thinks back to his early success in this timeline— silently high fiving with Beverly and Jimmy (Zeller, the spoilsport, had refused to partake) while voyeuristically watching Will and Hannibal shyly having their first kiss in the shadows of a filthy crime scene. In fact, he didn’t think anyone in their immediate circle had been stabbed or burned or maimed or drowned or— well you get the point.
And as one year turns to two to four to eight with no word from Hannibal or Will except the occasional postcard, a sort of cautious optimism starts building in Frederick’s heart. The years continue to fly by until one day, Frederick finds that his hair has turned a snowy white, and that his legs are too weak to support his aching body. He tries to take in a breath to laugh but it comes out as a wheeze. He’s at the end of the line once more, but this time at the end of a healthy, fulfilling life. His only wish is that he’s finally allowed to move on. And as he feels his life slowly drifting away from him, Frederick wonders if he’s accomplished whatever divine mission that godforsaken time loop had wanted him to complete. It really feels like he did the best he could this life, preventing every possible death on the East Coast by sending Hannibal and Will packing early. Sure, he feels bad for the poor suckers in Florence or Paris that were probably flambéed for a pretentiously fancy brunch, but realistically, those two would always leave a body count no matter where they went.
All Frederick wants now is to pass in peace. With a heavy sigh, Frederick willingly closes his eyes one last time, content to move on into whatever lies in the beyond.
And he dies. For real this time. Woohoo!
The End
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teyamsatan · 1 year
Text
Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax
Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X
Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces. 
Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.
Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)
A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged <;3
"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"
“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 
Fuck. 
“Lo’ak… be serious.”
“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”
The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes. 
You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words. 
“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”
His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently. 
“But it is you. It has to be you.” 
“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.” 
You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self. 
“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.
“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.” 
Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side. 
Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his. 
His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened. 
“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…
I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”
Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.
“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.” 
“What’s Cornelia Street?”
“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.” 
A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed. 
You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right. 
“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go
As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”
Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.
“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend
I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”
A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice. 
“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.” 
Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it. 
“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”
“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”
Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win. 
“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”
“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.” 
Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish. 
“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”
He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you. 
“What did you just say?” 
“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”
FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER
“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.” 
“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.” 
Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was. 
He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew. 
“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”
You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?” 
“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.” 
“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response. 
You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway. 
You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go. 
You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse. 
“You should leave, Neteyam.”
You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing. 
“No.” 
You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling. 
“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?” 
He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing. 
You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you. 
“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“
It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you. 
You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission. 
He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to. 
He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long. 
“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.” 
Fuck. 
Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply. 
“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.” 
You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention. 
“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.” 
Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died. 
His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.
“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”
You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools. 
“We need to talk, properly talk.” 
You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away. 
You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.
There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first. 
“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise. 
You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye. 
Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you. 
“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.” 
Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly. 
Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself. 
“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake. 
“How long?” Neteyam asked. 
“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared. 
“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep. 
“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”
You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond. 
The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers. 
You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time. 
“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that. 
“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm. 
“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look. 
You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue. 
When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness. 
Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.
You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours. 
You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day. 
Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in. 
“I think you should be taking a break from this.”
“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”
“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.” 
You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went. 
“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”
You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod. 
It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime. 
You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life. 
“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.
Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?
Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently. 
Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did. 
“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”
You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi. 
You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”
Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own. 
“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”
“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”
“Did you tell her yet?” 
“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”
Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.
“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.” 
“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.” 
Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max. 
“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”
“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.” 
“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”
“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”
Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.” 
You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped. 
“He told you.”
“Yeah…” 
“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”
“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”
“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.” 
“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”
You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.
You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric. 
Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair. 
“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.” 
You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.
“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.” 
You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed. 
The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far. 
It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle. 
You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims. 
As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed. 
He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry. 
“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage. 
Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest. 
“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest. 
As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.
“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face. 
You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins. 
“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.” 
You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute. 
“Ok then, let’s dance.” 
Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.
He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done. 
You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support. 
Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs. 
He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.
“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!” 
He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying. 
You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight. 
These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it. 
“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”
The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.
You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids. 
As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.
“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 
You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm. 
“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.” 
He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.
“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”
You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.
“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”
You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further. 
“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”
He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained. 
“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it. 
“Yes, please.” 
You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore. 
“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there. 
“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled. 
“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”
“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.” 
It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces. 
Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @k----a27s
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