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simpjaes · 15 days

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heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️

MDNI.

this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k

tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)

It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him.

It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.

Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it.

Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights.

Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask.

You already know. He’s had a bad day.

So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.

And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.

When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you.

And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him.

Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s.

The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker.

It’s always you who can distract him.

And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.

Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more.

Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern.

Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything.

And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.

It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more.

Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?

“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says.

And, of course, you do.

“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place.

“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?”

You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.

You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe.

“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”

You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you.

It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible.

He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to.

So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.

You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears.

He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him.

Him, him, him.

And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible.

God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him.

And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way.

It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget.

And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits?

Out of respect, no less.

“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation.

Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.

It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back.

Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl.

“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now.

After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs.

Hah.

“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”

You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust.

“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back.

”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark.

You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely.

Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him.

He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face.

“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him.

And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality.

By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice.

“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.”

You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours

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nilsavatar · 3 months

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DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

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Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began. The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering.

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People.

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.” Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!” Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior.

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her.

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before.

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless, that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep. The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him. Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

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prythianpages · 5 months

Text

Stuck On You | Part Four

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [final part]

A/N: this was supposed to be the last part but I felt like it was becoming too long so I split it in half. I rewrote so many scenes from this so many times because I wasn't too happy with them but I think I finally am now. you can find my masterlist here.

Warnings: angst with mentions of violence/abuse/choking/death/killing

Closing the door behind you, you leaned against it, the dam of your emotions breaking through. You allowed the first tear to slide down your cheek. It was quickly followed by others and they burned, each one a painful reminder of the damage you had done. Trembling fingers pressed against your forehead, attempting to soothe the throbbing pain while your other hand found its place against your chest. Your actions were crushing your heart, making you feel like you couldn’t breathe.

What have you done?

Pushing Cassian away seemed necessary. For his safety. For yours. For Seraphine’s. It was for the best, you had to keep telling yourself. Yet, the ache in your chest betrayed that notion because if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?

There was a soft knock at your door. “y/n?”

You took deep breaths and wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. A futile attempt to compose yourself. You didn’t want your little sister to see you like this. You were now the matriarch of your family. You had to be strong… or at least appear to be.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you upon opening the door. Seraphine stood on the other side, her shoulders slumped and eyes glistening with tears. “Cassian left.”

“I know.”

She looked up at you. “Why does everyone leave?”

It seemed as though the shards of your broken heart had found new, more intricate ways to splinter. The weight of responsibility bore down on you. A burden you never intended to place on Seraphine’s shoulders.This was all your fault.

You drew in a steadying breath and crouched down to meet her at eye level. You gently wiped away her tears. “Not everyone,” you reminded her softly. “I’m still here. We’ll always be together.”

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of a fragile hope.

Your eyes locked with hers. “I promise.”

The abrupt sound of a door slamming open startled you both. You jumped to your feet and Seraphine hid behind you. As you clasped her trembling hand in yours, the both of you cautiously walked to the living room. Aerik stood in the middle of the room. His features contorted into pure anger, filling the atmosphere with tension.

His eyes were scanning the house, chest heaving in anger. “Where the fuck is he?”

“He’s not here.” You replied, your voice a breathless whisper. “He’s gone.”

Aerik stormed over to you both. His hand wrapped around your arm, right where your healing bruise was, and he pressed harshly on it, prompting a cry from you. You looked up and were met with the white rage within Aerik’s eyes. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you, lips curled in disgust.

“Was Kallon’s warning not enough?” Aerik glared, intimidating you. “Should I inform him of your treason?”

He was grasping you by your other arm, yanking your grasp from Seraphine’s and forcing you closer to him. When you didn’t answer, he growled and tightened his grip. “You answer when spoken to.”

“Please don’t hurt her!” Seraphine cried as she darted toward you, coming to stand in between you both. She wrapped her arms around your waist, her back to her uncle and tiny wings wrapped around you as a shield.

“Please don’t.” You managed to say. “I’m sorry for defying your wishes.”

Aerik stared at you, contemplating on what to do with you. Upon shifting his gaze to Seraphine, he realized he destroyed all the effort he had made with her the past days. There was a look of betrayal in her eyes, her lips quivering with fear and she tightened her hold on you when she met his gaze. The facade was gone. There was no purpose in keeping up pretenses anymore.

With a snarl, he yanked Seraphine away from you, not caring that his force sent the young girl stumbling and falling to the floor. She let out a cry and raw anger shot through you, flooding your veins.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

Aerik scoffed as he turned his attention back to you. He stepped forward, prompting you to take a step back. He continued until your back hit the kitchen table and he had you cornered. “You are in no position to tell me what I can’t do.”

“Seraphine is my responsibility now.” He reminded you in a taunting manner, tightening a hand around your throat. He squeezed, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. He leaned down so close to you, you could feel his disgusting breath fan your face. Your fingers grasped at his, a futile attempt to pry his grip from you.

“Please stop hurting her, Uncle Aerik!”

“This is my house.” Aerik ignored your little sister’s cries and you dropped your hands, one of them falling behind your back, reaching for anything as the desperation to breathe and run to your sister overtook you.

“I want you gone.” He seethed, his grip on you tensing. “Now.”

Azriel had noticed the change in Cassian lately, the heaviness in his steps, and the shadows lingering in his eyes. Despite the night hour, he invited Cassian to spar with him on the training grounds of the house of wind, hoping that it’d allow him to work out his pent up emotions and lift his spirits. Even if only temporarily.

The two Illyrians circled each other. Azriel's movements were fluid and precise, a stark contrast to Cassian, who appeared to be lost in thought. Cassian's punches lacked their usual force, and his defenses faltered. Azriel furrowed his brow, a deep concern for his friend settling in. Cassian was typically energetic and enthusiastic during training, reveling in the thrill of besting his opponents. Azriel had once remarked his haughty demeanor to be annoying, but now, he longed for one of Cassian's vain remarks, missing the spirited energy that usually defined their sparring sessions.

In a swift move, Azriel feigned a strike, and Cassian, too distracted to react properly, lost his balance. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed.

"Enough, Cassian," Azriel urged, crouching beside him. He knew why Cassian was so defeated, so disheartened. But he asked anyway. "What's going on?"

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair that had come undone from the elastic tie you had given him. "I just don’t understand why she’d push me away. I thought we were making progress…”

You had shattered Cassian’s heart. Yet, as promised, he continued to love you with all the fractured pieces left behind. He always would. No matter how much it hurt.

It required every ounce of his strength to resist turning back the last night he saw you. He would’ve begged on his knees for you. For you to not marry whoever Aerik had picked out for you. For you to come back with him to Velaris, where it would be safe for you and Seraphine.

Then there was poor Seraphine, whose wounds from losing her parents were still fresh and apparent in the way she clung to anyone who offered her comfort. It dawned on him then–the reason for your protectiveness and hesitancy concerning your sister. The heart-wrenching look on her face when he was leaving haunted him.

He should’ve begged on his knees, should’ve dug deeper into the distress reflected in your eyes. Gods, had he made a mistake in conceding to your wishes and not fighting for you? In letting you slip away?

“Then keep fighting for her, Cas.” Azriel told him, sensing where his thoughts had headed. He extended his hand out to Cassian, helping him up to his feet.

Cassian felt Azriel’s hand briefly stiffen before letting go. The shadows clinging to Azriel seemed to stir and come alive, swirling around him. A dark tendril emerged in the distance, curling against Azriel's ears before merging with the swarm of shadows, who eagerly welcomed the dark tendril back. By the way Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he could sense whatever his shadow had whispered was urgent.

“What is it?”

“It’s Kallon.” Azriel said, meeting Cassian’s gaze. “He’s sent some of his men to go look for y/n. Her and Seraphine are missing.”

The revelation seemed to jolt Cassian out of his emotional haze. Without another word, he unfurled his wings and soared into the sky, determination gleaming in his eyes. He was going to find you.

The air in the Inn was thick with the scent of burning wood from the fireplace, its warmth battling against the chill that seeped through the cracks in the walls. You and Seraphine found solace in a corner, sitting at a worn wooden table that creaked under your every move. It reminded you of the tavern back at Ironcrest, the familiarity of it filling you with a sad twinge of nostalgia.

Outside, the world was blanketed in a thin layer of snow. A promise of a strong winter to come. The winds howled, carrying with them the secrets of the desolate mountains that surrounded the humble establishment. It was your second night at the Inn located around the Illyrian Steppes. You were well familiar with it as it was a place you and your mother often frequented.

You adjusted the scarf around your neck self consciously, wanting to keep the evidence from two nights ago well hidden. Despite washing your hands until the skin was raw, all you saw was dark red. Blood. Aerik’s blood pooling around his head after you knocked him out with a vase. You had run to your sister to shield her from the gory scene, praying to the cauldron that she hadn’t caught a glimpse. If she had, she pretended as if she didn’t.

Your hands trembled as you helped Seraphine with her dinner, the memories of that night resurfacing again and again.

“Listen to me, Sera.” You had whispered, gently cradling her cheek in your hand and coaxing her worried gaze from your burning neck to meet yours. “I need you to pack some clothes, a few essentials—just the things you can't bear to leave behind–and do so quickly.”

Her eyes widened even more, confusion settling on her features. You understood the look on her face. At her age, you had been put in this position so often. It struck you now that the roles had reversed. “Why? This is our home. Uncle Aerik should leave.”

“It’s not safe here anymore. We have to go somewhere else, somewhere far away.”

A frown creased Seraphine's forehead. “Is that why you told Cassian to leave?”

“Yes and now it’s our turn.” You nodded solemnly, heart aching at the mention of his name.

You blinked, your sister’s gentle touch pulling you from the sea of haunting memories that threatened to engulf you and drag you down into its dark abyss. “Yes?”

You met her worried gaze as it flitted from your face to your untouched plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Yes,” you said again, forcing a smile onto your face as you picked up a spoon. Seraphine watched you carefully with a concerned look on her face. She only relaxed once you had brought a spoonful of soup to your mouth. With a subtle smile, she returned to her own dinner. She hummed softly to herself, casting wary glances your way to make sure you were still eating.

As you and Seraphine finished your dinner, the doors to the Inn swung open. A gust of frigid air roared in, causing the flames in the fireplace to flicker momentarily. Your gaze shot toward the entrance, as it did every time you heard the door open, heart skipping a beat when you recognized the sigils the males who had entered wore on their leathers. They were from Ironcrest. You watched them carefully as they approached the Innkeeper and panic set in as you overheard snippets of their conversations. Their inquiries directed toward two specific individuals. A small winged girl no older than a decade accompanied by a young female with no wings. You and Seraphine.

This place was no longer safe and you felt your stomach sicken, your dinner wanting to come right back up. The walls seemed to close in as the gravity of your situation became apparent. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, chest growing extremely tight. You watched as some of the males made their way upstairs, knowing exactly where they were headed and when the ones that had remained began to disperse, you knew you had little time. You had to run and you had to run now.

You quietly instructed Seraphine to put her coat on, grateful that she hadn’t left it up in the room you were staying in as she would need it for the relentless weather outside. You were also grateful that your bow and arrow remained secured to your back. Seraphine barely had enough time to grab Scrumps, her plush, before the two of you were slipping and sneaking out through the back door of the Inn.

“Why are we running?” Seraphine said, wincing as the cold winds bit at her cheeks. “I left my coloring books in the room!”

“I’ll buy you more.” You reassured her, urging her to keep her pace with you as you ran into the forest.

You paused for a moment once you were deep into the forest to catch your breath, instantly regretting it. Your blood ran as cold as the wind whirling around you as you heard it. The crack of branches under the weight of heavy footsteps. Those approaching steps grew closer, and suddenly, an arrow whizzed by, narrowly missing your ear.

Seraphine’s frightened cry pierced the air and you swiftly scooped her into your arms. You held her close to your chest as you ran, determined to shield her from the impending danger. The bitter chill of the night bit through your worn boots as you raced through the unforgiving forest, the frosty tendrils of snow creeping into every crevice. Seraphine clung to your chest, her small form shivering against the cold and the fear that gripped you both. The haunting echo of arrows whistled through the air.

Suddenly, pain seared through your leg as an arrow found its mark, sending you sprawling to the ground with a desperate cry. You propped yourself up on your hands, sparing Seraphine the weight of your body. The harsh reality of your vulnerability struck, but there was no time to dwell in the pain of it all. Your life was daring to flash before your eyes.

“Sera, you need to run.” Your voice strained with urgency as you came to the decision that you would distract the men to allow your sister a chance of escaping. A chance of living.

“No,” she cried, shaking her head desperately.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you brought yourself to stand and helped your little sister up to her feet. “Sera, please.”

But Seraphine didn’t run. She stood by your side, frozen in place by both fear and loyalty. Her eyes betrayed her bewilderment at your request. “You promised we’d always be together.” She murmured in defiance.

Another arrow pierced your shoulder from behind and you let out a sharp gasp in pain. You fumbled for your bow and arrow, wincing as the pain seared through you at every movement of your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the inky darkness for the men who were chasing you.

“There’s nowhere left to run.”

A male stepped out from the shadows, teeth flashing with a wicked grin. You recognized him as the one who had spoken with the Innkeeper. He casted a glance toward your sister, his eyes roaming over her body in a way that disgusted you. “You have something that belongs to us.”

“Sera, get behind me.” You instructed, not wanting her to witness what was about to unfold. She listened to your request this time, burying her face into your back. Her hands gripped tightly onto your uninjured leg.

The way the male continued to approach you and Seraphine hinted that he didn’t think you were capable of shooting at him. Your throat tightened. Your gaze fixed on his chest, right where his heart was beating. You’d never shot someone before. Your bow and arrow had only been used to hunt out of necessity, never for sport. But your hands were already stained red and if you wanted any chance of surviving, you had to. If not for yourself, then for your sister.

Pretending that you were hunting and the male in front of you was a deer, you drew the bowstring back, muscles tensing. You didn’t leave room for another moment to pass, for doubt to cross over your mind. You released and your arrow swiftly met its target.

More Illyrian males stepped out from the trees, coming to a stop once they saw you. Unlike the first male, they were heavily armed and upon seeing their companion bleeding out on the snow, the look they sent you had you shaking. Their siphons began to glow, their eyes following shortly after with a primal, savage anger that wanted to consume you whole. There were three of them. You only had two arrows left.

You notched another arrow onto the taut string of your bow, praying to the Mother for a miracle.

It seemed as if she answered you right away as a sudden burst of crimson light illuminated the darkness around you. The ground beneath you trembled. Cassian emerged, a formidable force, his powerful presence radiating strength as he stood between you and the males. His back was to you, his membranous wings extended, protectively blocking the males from you.

“This is none of your business, bastard.” One of the males berated, attempting to assert dominance. He spat on the ground. “Stay out of it.”

“Oh,” Cassian said, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. The richness of his voice added weight to each syllable, delivering a strong message with resonating intimidation. “But it is my business.”

“All this for a murderous and thieving whore?” The male chuckled, having the nerve to challenge Cassian, despite his friends taking a step backwards. “Come on, you poor bastard. Even you can do better than that.”

Each of Cassian’s siphons ignited, radiating an overwhelming crimson cascade of power and he let out a low, guttural growl. The sound reverberated through the chilling air, carrying an innate power so profound that it seized attention and instilled fear in its wake. Even you felt the urge to bow down. Seraphine’s grip on your leg loosened but you urged her to keep her head pressed into your back, shielding her ears with your hands.

He reached for the sword strapped down his spine, taking pleasure in the flicker of fear in the male’s eyes. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he charged forward, killing the male who dared to challenge him with such ease that it filled him with disappointment. He didn’t have time to linger on it or turn to you as an arrow was soaring at him.

He caught it with one hand, crushing it between his fingers. He turned to the two remaining males, who looked at him in horror. They fled like the cowards Cassian knew they were and he chased after them, hoping that they’d at least grant him the fight his Illyrian blood yearned for.

Your skin was cold and clammy, your heartbeat quickening as you willed yourself not to fall. The world around you began to blur. There was another thunderous sound and you could make out a flash of purple and obsidian…was that the High Lord’s voice? What was happening?

“y/n?”

“M’okay,” you murmured to your sister but your voice was weak as the blood continued to seep from your wounds. You were caught in a disorienting whirlwind, where the world was spinning around you in a chaotic dance. The ground beneath you was becoming unsteady and you fell to your knees.

“y/n!” Seraphine’s voice was calling your name again but this time more frantic. You felt her tiny hands press against your wounds, a desperate attempt to keep your blood from escaping further. “You can’t leave me. You promised, y/n. You promised.”

The dizziness wrapped around you in its embrace and you gave in to it, wanting the world to stop spinning. Your eyelids fluttered shut, despite your sister’s cries. You didn’t want to leave her but you couldn’t help it. You were falling forward but instead of your face plummeting to the cold, hard ground, you found yourself falling into a warm and familiar embrace.

“I got you, Sweetheart.”

"Cassian."

You uttered his name as if it were a sacred invocation, a response to a cherished prayer, and then the world faded to black.

A dull ache permeated your body. Each breath, each movement was accompanied by a protesting soreness. The effort to open your eyes was met with resistance but when you finally fought through it, your surroundings were blurring in and out of focus.

Your senses gradually tuned in to the gentle embrace of the mattress beneath you and as the haze lifted from your vision, a realization unfolded. This wasn’t your room. It struck you then. Everything that had happened, a cascade of memories rushing back.

“Sera,” you rasped, your body jolting forward and head whipping around. A searing pain shot through your shoulder but you ignored it as your eyes frantically searched for your sister, your breath catching.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice exhaled with relief.

Warm hands cupped your face, guiding your head toward the source of the voice. Your eyes met a pair of warm hazel eyes and you allowed yourself to breathe again.

“Cassian.”

Cassian smiled at you, cherishing the way his name sounded coming from your lips.. You spoke his name as if it were a breath of fresh air, a tender exhale that swept through his soul like a gentle breeze. He’d never grow tired of it.

“Where are we?” You asked and then your eyebrows knitted together when you spotted Scrumps beside you. “Where’s Sera?”

“We’re in Velaris.” Cassian replied and at your blank stare, he added: “The City of Starlight. A hidden city in the Night Court. You and Sera will be safe here. Only the citizens and the High Lord’s closest friends know about this place.”

“And Se–”

“She’s with Azriel.”

You shifted forward and Cassian dropped his hands from your face to place them on your shoulder, carefully avoiding the area around your injured one to keep you from moving. Although Madja had taken care of you, the arrows the Illyrians from Ironcrest had used were laced with poison and while you were stable, it would take longer than expected for the puncture wounds on your shoulder and thigh to properly heal.

“It’s okay, she’s alright.” Cassian reassured you. “You were out a whole day from your injuries. She wouldn’t leave your side at all. I was able to convince her to go eat breakfast but she would only go if I stayed by your side. She didn’t want you to wake up alone. Azriel offered to take her down for breakfast. She’s perfectly safe with him.”

You met his eyes again. “It’s not Azriel I’m worried about.”

Cassian shrugged his shoulders, waving off your concern. “Nothing he can’t handle, I’m sure.”

You sent him a look and then the two of you were bursting into laughter.

You missed being with him. The first night you met, things had been so simple and easy flowing between you two. It was a stark contrast to the complexity that had since seeped into your relationship. A complexity you blame yourself for. You thought you were doing what was best but instead, you felt like you had ruined everything.

As the laughter subsided, a wave of remorse swept over you, turning the light moment heavy. Tears welled up and you gave in to them, not holding back. You were finally releasing all the emotional turmoil that had been building within that started with the loss of your mother.

Cassian responded instinctively. His strong arms enveloped you, offering a comforting refuge from the storm of emotions that raged within. This time, you let him. You buried your head into his chest, flooding your senses with his scent that soothed you and he nestled his in the crook of your neck. He held you close. So, so close. He could sense you were breaking within and wanted nothing more than to keep you whole. To wrap you in the safety of his arms until the storm within you subsided.

“Kallon,” you began as you pulled away just enough to speak. “He found out about your visits–he found out about what I was doing. Then, he found Aerik and they both came into the tavern one night. He threatened to hurt you, hurt Seraphine, and then me if you came over again…–”your voice broke as you sharply inhaled and the tears were coming down again. “--He said he’d save me for last so I could watch.”

“I’m so sorry for lying to you. I should’ve told you. But I–I couldn’t.I asked you to leave. Not because I wanted to but because I was scared and I didn’t want you or Sera to get hurt. And then Aerik came home after he saw you. He wanted to take Sera away from me. He wanted to–he–he was–oh gods. I–I killed–”

“It’s okay,” his voice was a soft murmur, not needing to hear more. He saw the bruises littering your neck earlier. He steadied his breath, resting his head on top of yours. “You’re safe now.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried against Cassian’s chest, tears flowing freely and staining the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he told you, his voice soothing amidst the discord of your emotions.

“I pushed you away. I hurt you.”

“You were only trying to protect your sister. I understand.” Cassian reassured you. It tore him apart to see you like this and it destroyed him even more that he had unintentionally played a role in it. If he had just stayed, if he had refused to leave, Aerik wouldn’t have been able to lay his hands on you. Those Illyrian males wouldn’t have been able to harm you.

“I don’t deserve your kindness. Your hospitality.” You said as your regret continued to pour out. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense.” Cassian was quick to respond, his arms holding you tighter as if trying to shield you from your own self-doubt. You could hear his steady heartbeat, a rhythmic reassurance, yearning to steady the erratic cadence of your own. “You deserve everything and so much more.”

As the tears subsided, Cassian tilted your chin upward, meeting your gaze with a tender intensity. “I meant what I said,” he whispered softly. “I loved you then and I love you now. I will always love you.”

“If there’s even the slightest chance that you feel the same, I’ll wait for you. I’ve waited seven years to have you by my side. I’ll wait seven more or however long it takes. And if you can’t open your heart to me, that’s okay too. I’ll be your friend. But please,” he said, his voice a soft plea as his eyes fluttered shut. “Please don’t push me away. I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all because I don’t want to let you go. I can’t let you go.”

Your eyes still glistened with traces of your emotion and he wiped them away, his nose brushing against yours.

“I don’t want to let you go either.”

Silence fell as the two of you looked at each other, locked in a gaze overwhelmed with yearning and longing. You were willing to let him in again. There was hope. A soft, shared breath of anticipation passed through you both. And then Cassian was bridging the small distance between you.

He cupped your face as he kissed you, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency. He moved to deepen the kiss. A delicate balance of passion and restraint. His chest pressed against yours and you could feel his heartbeat. It was quicker now and as it met yours, you surrendered to it, your heartbeat matching his in a timeless rhythm.

tagging: @kemillyfreitas, @wallacewillow0773638 @justdreamstars @63angel @fightmedraco

a/n: if you asked to be tagged and I didn't, I'm so sorry. Please let me know so I can tag you for the last part! thank you so much for reading and your comments. I love reading them! the next part should be up soon, I just need to finish one more scene <;3 you'll get to see another fun scene between Azriel and Seraphine in the next part lol, I debated on whether including it here but decided to save all the fluff for the next part

#cassian x reader #cassian imagines #cassian imagine #cassian angst #cassian fluff #cassian smut #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian acotar #acotar imagines #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 1 month

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im back with more chaotic modern reader x hazbin crew... 👀👀

just imagine a reader who cannot take things seriously. like, oh you're sad? their response is either "not a slay" or "that didn't eat". oh Angel and Husk are having yet another argument and the rest of the hotel is tense (-Alastor)? reader just obnoxiously sips tea. oh Adam is going on his "I'm better than you all" rant during the fight? reader just obnoxiously chews popcorn.

A/N: I rewrote this a few times because I had too many ideas on what to do but didn't want it to be too long. Anyways, hope you enjoy Anon!

• You just don't get why people make such a fuss about stupid things, they're already in hell, what are they whining about? This place isn't even that bad, it is way different from what you were teached at least, you actually enjoy being here.

• You're not the most reliable person to go to when it comes to having a serious conversation, you just don't give two shits about anything, why should you? Does it really matter in this place, even if some demon gets angry at you, it's not like you can die again.

• You saw Charlie crying or just really stressed out about the hotel, you either tell her to suck it up or don't even bother engaging and go call Vaggie to deal with it, not your girlfriend, not your problem. Sir Pentious says his sinceres sorries to you? You tell him to go fuck himself and still gives him death stares for a week, he destroyed the wall Alastor made you clean up earlier that day and you hold grudges very easily.

• Husker and Angel are having a discussion? You're filming it and whispering “Fight fight fight” in the back, you'll take any drama that happens at the hotel. And when they come back all friendly and even being gross with each other you put your head on the bar's counter and let out a disappointed sigh; “You two are flirting now? For fuck sake, I can't have jackshit in this hotel can I?”

• Lucifer is coming to the Hotel? You cared at first, but then realized he was not as hot as you imagined the king of Hell would be and decided that you won't mind, you only really pay attention to when he and Alastor are fighting. Your eyes did tear up a little bit when Lucifer and Charlie solved things with each other but you won't ever say that out loud.

• When Vaggie finally revealed that she was a angel to everyone, you took it as the biggest gossip of the year instead of and actual emotional moment and did not understand why Charlie was so shocked at this information, like, c'mon, that shit was the best.

• When the final battle is close, the one that you can actually kill you for good, you don't get all emotional, your side has a army of cannibals, Alastor and the princess of Hell, why should you worry? Still, you find yourself drinking with your hotel mates the night before the fight, you find yourself talking happily to Charlie and Vaggie, telling Sir Pentious to just kiss Cherri Bomb already, you congratulate Angel and his future relationship with Husker which makes him laugh.

• This is Hell, you're here because you deserve it, but tomorrow is another day that no one can tell what happens so might as well enjoy it while it lasts, but you totally don't care about the hotel, yeah… Totally don't care.

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alexa-fika · 2 months

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I don't know how but I had these ideas while working out

1- Rayleigh x winged!child!reader (w)

W gets sent back in time and meets his grandpa and Roger Pirates

2- sanji x ghost!child!reader

Okay so the reader is basically Danny phantom and he doesn't die (because he's already dead yohohoho sorry) and doesn't need to eat so a story about that idk

3-law x son!reader

Okay you wrote a story about laws son being able to see dead people so he gets kidnapped by Doffy and ghost Corazon trying to reassures him until his dad rescues him

🐼💕~

Adventures in the past ( Roger Pirates x gn!child! Reader)

A/N here we gooo, Im kinda meh on this one and I ‘ll be honest I din’t even noticed that it was a winged!reader request until I was done so I had to kinda mix it in? But regardless here we goo, I can’t tell you how many times I went back and rewrote it again and again cause I kept getting stuck 😩

Reader here is Replaced by Dokucha which means reader in Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Dokucha groans, wriggling their way out of the barrel they had found themselves in, looking around their surroundings, shaking their wings

“Grandpa is gonna be mad that I ruffled them again,” they mutter

They squeak as a knife flies past them, digging into the wooden walls behind them

They slowly turn around, staring at the entrance of what looked to be an office of sorts, spotting two kids, a red-head with a straw hat holding a sword menacingly and a blue-haired boy with a red nose, holding an array of small knives between his fingers

The two seemed to be young but still relatively older than they were

“Um… hi”

“Who is it, Shanks, Buggy?” a voice calls behind the two young boys

“Uh…” Shanks lowers his sword, staring at the scared child in front of them

“It’s a Bird-kid!” buggy, never one to be at a loss for words, exclaims

They stare at the man for a few seconds, their eyes glancing at the familiar marks on his chin and grin, flying towards the man and crashing into him

“Grandpa!”

The boys give the man a side eye from where they stand

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know this kid!” he exclaims, looking down at the child who was now holding onto him and hugging him

“Kid, I think you got the wrong person…”

“No! You are Grandpa Ray!”

“How do you know my name,” he says slowly, looking at the child hugging him

“Because you’re grandpa!” They cry

“How old do you think I am, kid.” he frowns at the child clinging to him

At those words, the child pauses, taking a closer look at the man before him; it was their grandfather, that was for certain; the scar and the markings were unmistakable, not to mention the powerful aura their grandfather carried.

But the closer Dokucha looked, the more they noticed something was not okay; the silver-white long hair was now short golden yellow locks. The markings that characterized him, although there, rather than framed by his beard they, were now inked on his chin, the beard nowhere to be seen. And his face that was before marked by time was now much younger

“Um, Granpa Ray…. This joke is not funny. Why do you look so different?” They said, poking the man’s cheek, trying to find their ‘disguise.’

“Wait, wait, you actually think I’m your grandpa?” he asked in disbelief

“Who put this idea in your head?” he asked before letting out a slight chuckle

“Shanks, Buggy, is this your doing?”

“Hah? I didn’t do anything!”

“Not me either.”

Dokucha turns their head at the mention of their names, glancing down at the two teens

“Uncle Shanks? Uncle Buggy?”

The two looked a bit surprised; how did this kid know their names

“Uh, yeah,” Shanks said nervously

“How do you know who we are?”

“Umm, what year is it?”

The two exchange glances before looking back at the little kid in front of them; it was an odd question

“It’s… 1486.” the teen with the hat said

“Uh oh”

The two look at each other again a, very concerned looks on their faces

“W-what do you mean, uh oh?”

“W-Well, Grandpa Ray said it was 1522.”

Dokucha now had found themselves on Crocus's lap, the latter performing a quick examination on the latest visitor of the Oro Jackson

“I'm okay, Uncle Crocus,” they said, inching back at the cold feeling of the stethoscope

“Are you sure?” He asks, repositioning the stethoscope

“Your wings seem fine, no broken feathers or anything embedded in them, no lacerations or damaged blood vessels.”

“No fever, Heartrate is good, breathing is good, the pulse is normal.. they’re good,” he said, giving the rest of the crew his approval as he put his tools away

“Yay! I'm free!” They said hoping off and flying off

“Not so fast, Sweet thing!” laughs Roger, effortlessly picking up Dokucha

“Awe”

“So, what brought you here?” Roger said while carrying Dokucha in his arms

“A barrel did,” Dokucha responded

“You got yourself trapped in a barrel?” Cuts in Buggy

“Yeah, I couldn’t get back out because of my wings.”

Shank lets out a slight snicker at that

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Dokucha exclaims with a pout

“It’s quite funny, you got yourself trapped in a barrel,” Shanks said, snickering harder

“Haha, yeah, it’s quite funny.” Buggy joins, laughing along with Shanks

“Fight me!” They said, lunging at them

Roger lets out a belly laugh, holding back Dokucha

“There, There”

“They’re being mean, Uncle Roger!”

“I think they’ve only teased you lightly; they haven’t really been mean per se,” he responded, patting Dokucha’s arm

“Your future self sure raised a wild one, Rayleigh.”

Rayleigh rolls his eyes, walking closer to his Captain and plucking Dokucha from his lap

“Grandpa Ray!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re back to Grandpa Ray now?”

He chuckled, patting the kid on the head

“Grandpa Ray looked so handsome when he was young,” the child exclaimed, moving Rayleigh’s head around and inspecting the younger version

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment now and an insult in the future…”

“Don’t worry, Grandpa Ray looks handsome as he is now, too; he got to be with grandma after all,” they said, giving the man a thumbs up

Rayleigh rolls his eyes at this

“You’re something else, kid

“Now-Grandpa Ray says the same!” They chirp

playing around with his sweatband

“I'm sure he does,” he stated, putting the sweatband over their wrist

Dokucha smiles at this, glancing at the new addition and, sliding down his arms and walking to the two teenagers

They observe them for a while until a pout comes on their face

Shanks just stares at the kids as they pout

“What? Is something wrong?” he asks

“I wish I had gone back farther… I'm still shorter than Uncle Shanks and Uncle Buggy.”

Shanks chuckles a little before giving a small pat on Dokucha’s head.

“It’s alright, kid. You’ll catch up to us soon.” Shanks’s voice is kind and reassuring

Buggy just giggles at the situation

“No, I won’t; when I'm as tall as you are now, you’ll be all grown up, just like you are in my time! And then I ‘ll still be smaller.”

“Why do you wanna be tall like us anyways?” asks Shanks with a raised eyebrow.

They shrug

“to make fun of you.”

Buggy lets out a hearty laugh

“That’s the most honest reason anyone could give.”

Shanks snorts at this and lets out a laugh of his own

“I know”

“You are something,” said Shanks

“A lil brat,” says Buggy

They gasp,

“Says the red nose!”

Buggy’s eyes light up with pure rage.

“What did you say, bird-brat?” he growls

They stick their tongue out of them and running of between Rayleigh and Roger, who just observed the situation amusedly

“Are you going to let a little kid get to you, Buggy?” Rayleigh chuckles with a raised brow as he watches Buggy’s rage get the best of him

“Dokucha!” He growls

“Come and get me then!”

Buggy shoots off like a bullet, lunging for the small child

“Come here Dokucha!”

The kid laughs and giggles as Buggy tries to snag them.

Roger chuckles at this scene, watching the two

“Dokucha!”

Dokucha looks around as Buggy’s voice soon begins to shift, becoming echoey and distant, changing into two familiar voices

“Dokucha!”

Dokusha blinked their eyes open, looking around and finding themselves in their room, Their grandfather and grandmother glancing down at them

“Good morning,” smiles Shakky, puffing out a wisp of smoke

“Geez kid, that was one heavy dream you were having,” Laughs Rayleigh

“Grandma, Grandpa?”

“Look like you’re still half-asleep. I'm going to get breakfast going,” Shakky says as she leaves the room

“What did you dream about?” asks Rayleigh, lifting the child from the bed.

“…”

“Still asleep? Hmm? Say, Dokucha, when did you get that sweatband?”

“Huh.” they look down, confused, only to look at their wrist and spot the familiar red and white wristband, a grin growing on their face as they realize what it meant

“Someone gave it to me!”

“Huh... I used to have one just like it; it brings me back.”

“Hey, Grandpa?”

“Yeah?”

“You looked really handsome when young. I can see how you got with grandma.”

“Hah?!”

Here we go thoughts? It’s not kicking your legs type but hopefully you got a chuckle, I will start working on the other one’s now 👀

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

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georgeclarkesgf · 11 days

Note

Hi! Pleeeeease can we get some soft george smut? Xx

oh absolutely lovely <333

need you | george clarke

"i need you," the words were mumbled against george's lips almost as soon as he walked into the flat, "please."

just those words had him turned on. which is how he'd found himself in this position; you straddling him, fingers tangled in his hair. not that he minded. it hadn't even taken half an hour since he'd stepped through the door for you to get him into bed.

"george." you whined, needing something more.

"yea?" he teased, fingers rubbing soft circles on your waist under your shirt, a knowing smirk plastered on his face, "what is it my love?"

"please. i missed you." you pouted at him as he kissed your lips.

your hands that were in his hair moved to the shirt you were wearing and pulled it over your head, your naked chest now on full display.

george couldn't help but stare, or as he'd put it, admire. he could never get enough of you, and he made sure you knew it every time; always taking his time with you and making you feel special.

"so pretty." he groaned, hands moving up to cup your breasts, softly massaging them and rubbing his thumb over your nipples.

several hickeys were marked onto your breasts and collarbones and it was good, but it wasn't enough. so you decided to take matters into your own hands and rid yourself of your shorts, george watching your every move.

you got yourself comfortable on the bed and spread your legs, showing him just how how needy you were. a wet patch was visible on your underwear, having been turned on for way too long.

he bit his lip, hands moving up your legs until they reached your underwear, fingertips ghosting over your clit. "need me that bad huh?"

"so bad baby." you pleaded.

george gently circled your clit over your underwear a few more times before he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down your legs. a gasp left your lips when his fingers ran through your folds, collecting your wetness and teasing your entrance.

"so wet for me. want my fingers baby?" you nodded your head, desperate to feel them inside you.

two fingers slipped inside you with ease and you cried out, the feeling almost overwhelming already. he moved up your body, hovering over you, pressing his lips against yours with a sense of urgency to try and muffle your moans, not knowing who was home.

"want you to come on my fingers." he whispered in your ear and placed a soft kiss underneath it.

his fingers sped up, curling to hit the perfect spot inside you, thumb attaching to your clit once again. your breathing quickened and your back arched into his chest, feeling like your whole body was on fire.

"i'm gonna cum george. fuck." but he already knew, from the way you clenched around his fingers to the way your breathing sped up, he knew.

the coil in your stomach snapped and you choked out a moan and a cry of his name, george not even bothering to try and silence you.

as you calmed down, you were met with george grinning wide at you, trying to contain his laughter.

"what?" you breathed out, still struggling to catch your breath.

"you're loud." he chuckled.

"oh shut up," you covered your face with your hands, growing embarrassed, "don't laugh at me or i won't let you fuck me."

george has never shut up so fast in his life.

a/n i rewrote this so many times, i hope it’s okay for you lovely!! <3

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bonniepop · 3 months

Text

character: akaashi keiji words: 700+ warnings: parenthood & special children. drama & comfort. notes: when i did a quick recap of all the fics i wanted to repost, this came at me out of nowhere, mostly because i forgot i wrote it, but also holy hell i wrote this? (i also rewrote it.)

your eyes are wet and swollen, your back pressed against the side of the bathtub as you sit on the floor. once upon a time, you looked at this place with dreamy eyes and excitement—this bathroom is so beautiful, this house is gorgeous, it’s perfect for us—but lately, you’ve been seeing the inside of it through a teary, pained gaze. it’s ruined for you.

i guess all this really was too good to be true, you tell yourself miserably, heat pricking the back of your eyes once again. you curl further into yourself and press your forehead over your knees, tears dripping down your thighs and soaking your shorts.

you don't know how long you sit there, but eventually, the bathroom door opens, and your husband steps in. “hi,” you hear akaashi say softly, “she’s asleep now.”

you don't move. the door shuts and you feel his warmth settle next to you.

you're both quiet for a time.

“you’re so good with her,” you say, voice wet and sticky, heavy in your mouth. “you're so... i’m so fucking terrible compared to you.”

akaashi doesn’t say anything.

“maybe…” you gasp against your knees, “maybe if i carried her to term—”

“hey, no,” he says softly, lifting one of his hands to tug at your elbow. “don’t say things like that.”

you press your lips shut and turn your head to meet his eyes, and you find him looking at you with so much compassion, so much patience, that you feel your heart fall to your stomach.

"say things like what?" you ask him sadly, voice cracking. “that i'm a bad mother? that i can't do it? that i can’t even carry a normal baby?”

the moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. your eyes widen and your lip trembles. “keiji, i—i'm sorry, i didn’t mean—”

“it’s not your fault,” he says, voice louder, a little rougher, but never angry. he tugs a little more firmly on your elbow, and you let him take it. “it’s not your fault. we—we’re doing what we can, we’re not—you’re not a bad mother, and she’s not a bad child. she’s just… different.”

she’s just different, the phrase repeats in your head, hollowly bouncing around as keiji pulls you into his arms. you’ve heard it many times before. it’s not her fault she screams the way she does; it’s not her fault she can’t stand anything that has the color blue; it’s not her fault she needs to eat at exactly 4:30pm when she comes home from school everyday. it’s the way she is. she can’t help it.

“what if i’m not good enough to handle different?” you tell him, heart breaking, head leaning on his chest. you start to hiccup through your tears. “i love her, i love her so much, but… keiji, what if i… what if i’m not a bad mom, but i’m a bad mom to her?”

he shakes his head, gently stroking your hair. “you’re not, because you’re thinking about how to be a good one,” he tells you softly, other arm coming around your shoulders.

after a long moment of silence, you speak again. it's a little laborous, pulling your lips apart to speak because you've been crying so much. “you’re so good with her. how… you have so much patience, and i…” you cut yourself off with a sniffle. "i don't know how you do it."

akaashi sighs. “it's... i don't know. i wish i had an answer."

you pull away and meet his gaze. the hand in your hair drifts to your other hand and he takes it in a gentle squeeze.

“i’m not perfect, either,” he murmurs gently, letting go of your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.. “no one’s perfect at this. there’s no manual to handling a child with autism, love. we just have to be patient, and love them, and remember what they like and don’t like.” he kisses your forehead. “you love her, don’t you?”

“of course,” you answer truthfully, and sniffle. he takes your hand again, his thumb brushing your skin so delicately, so lovingly. “i love her so, so much, but i’m so… i’m so scared i’m doing her a disservice.”

“you’re not. you’re not, my love. please believe me.” he presses the back of your hand to his mouth. “what matters is that we try.”

you let go of his hand and wrap your arms around his waist, the side of your thigh falling on top of his legs. “i love you, keiji,” you tell him earnestly, desperately. “i’m sorry i’m being so difficult.”

“you aren’t,” he answers, but you know it’s automatic, because your husband is the kindest of souls and you are the most selfish of people.

you press yourself closer to him. “still, i was acting like a child. we're supposed to be partners, but instead i made things harder on you. i'm sorry.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead, and the hand that was on your shoulder now strokes your hair. “i forgive you,” he says against your skin. “i love our little family, imperfect as it is. i’d hate to see it fall apart.”

your eyes water and your mouth trembles and your heart squeezes with love. if there’s anything you’d go to the ends of the earth for, it’s keiji’s happiness.

fortunately, you don’t have to go that far. you can start in your daughter’s room.

#hq fic #hq fanfic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi x you #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #akaashi keiji #akaashi #📝 — my writing

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hearts4hughes · 1 year

Text

regrets | jack hughes

jack hughes x fem! reader

part one

a/n: i rewrote this about a million times, and i can’t seem to settle on something i’m proud of, so i landed on this. i’m aware it’s rushed at the end, but it was so difficult for me to get ideas for this part 2.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, talk of toxic friendship

gif is not mine

two weeks.

it’s been two weeks since you destroyed your relationship with jack. well, destroyed what was left of it.

the morning after, you woke up to twenty missed calls and about thirty texts- all from jack- along with a pounding headache. you chose to ignore his existence, skimming through the texts, and deleting all voicemails.

that has been your routine since it happened. you’d wake up with a tear stained face, puffy eyes, and delete all the ‘apologies’ jack had sent. various people had told you to block his number, but you couldn’t. he was still the same jack that you became best friends with, and that’s what kept you trapped in.

“i’ll take another.” you wave the bartender over, asking for what was probably your fourth drink of the night. he nods, making the alcoholic beverage.

getting handed the drink, you throw back the mix of tequila and various juices. every sip washes away your memories of that night. you can’t cry about something you can’t remember, and that logic made you more and more desperate to wash away your sorrows with liquor.

“how many of those have you had tonight?” you almost drop your glass at the sound of that voice. the same voice that used to be comforting, but now only reminds you of the horror and pain it carries.

slowly, you turn your head to look at jack. his eyes lock with yours, dull of their usual shimmer. he sends you a half-smile- if you can even call it that. without another word, you fly to your feet, making a one way exit out of the bar.

“miss, you have you pay for your drink!” the bartender yells out. coming to a halt, you turn around, motioning your head towards jack.

“he’s going to take my tab.” you beam, hoping that will slow jack down a little bit. he awkwardly smiles, pulling out $100 and giving it to the bartender, not caring how much lower the original bill was. hastily, he spins on his heels, praying he catches you before you escape.

if it weren’t for your stiletto heels, you’d be sprinting down the street like a runner, not caring where the finish line was. however, you could compromise with speed walking.

“y/n!” jack calls out. you didn’t bother to turn around, already knowing he was right on your tail. you pick up speed, looking both ways, and crossing the street. “y/n!” he yells again.

just as you thought you got away, a strong hand grabs your bicep, causing you to stop in your tracks. you turn around, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“let me go.” you command. your voice cold and authoritative. obeying your wishes, he releases you from his hold.

you swiftly turn around, ready to run at full speed down the main road.

“wait, please.” he begs. “let me drive you home and we can talk about everything.” the street light reveals jack’s features more in-depth. dark circles lay just under his beautiful blue eyes, that are bloodshot due to crying. he was just as broken as you.

“i’m not sure, jack.” your eyes flick to the ground, tracing the cracks and curves in the sidewalk.

if he took you home, he’d only pull you back into the vicious cycle that you both called a ‘friendship’.

“please.” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. your eyes finally land on his. you scan the regretful look plastered across his face. his lips are turned downward into a frown, eyes droopy and glassy, and his once tan complexion was now pale.

your eyes flick down to your shoes, not completely letting the pity overtake you. “ok.” you nod. his face lights up into a small smile.

“ok, good.” his voice is much happier, “my car is in the parking lot back there.” he leads you to his car, looking back ever so often, just to make sure your still there.

warily, you step into jack’s passenger seat. the car reeked of his smell, and with every deep breath, the memories you tried to erase, flooded back. you swallowed hard, telling yourself it was a mistake to ever allow him to persuade you into this.

“are you ok?” he asks, reading your mind. “you didn’t make a mistake by allowing me to bring you home, y/n/n.” the use of your nickname makes you wince. “i’m not going to give up on our relationship without explaining first.”

he said relationship.

not friendship.

relationship.

“i didn’t even say anything.” you snap, causing him to flinch.

jack swallows hard. he’s not used to the harsh actions coming from you. you were always jack’s rock. his shoulder to cry on when he needed you. he never thought his actions would’ve been thought of as leading you on, but then again, he doesn’t use his brain that much.

“yeah, but you’re thinking it. i can tell.” he mumbles, grabbing his phone and throwing it over to you. confused, you accept it, searching jack’s face for any clues of what you were supposed to do.

his face falls when he notices your confused actions. it was muscle memory for him to pass you this phone in the car, waiting for you to serenade him with your music. he even made a playlist for you because at that point, you owned his car radio.

“you always have the aux, remember?” he clarifies, bewildered how after only a few weeks, you had forgotten basic routines.

as the gears turn in your head, you tap on the playlist titled, ‘y/n/n <3’, and allow the soft sounds of taylor swift to whisk you away from reality.

the car ride was fairly short, considering your house was just down the road. you roughly shove your key into the keyhole and allowing him into your apartment. even during the depressing past weeks, you managed to keep your apartment clean. you needed some sort of distraction, and busying your mind with cleaning was the perfect one.

he crept into the home, letting his eyes wander all around as if he’d never seen it before. his finger tips grazed the wooden coffee table, admiring the floral arrangement strategically placed on it. he’d always loved how you decorated your apartment. it never failed to brighten his day when he saw the photos and memories that decorated the walls.

“kinda thought you would’ve taken this down after what happened.” he broke the deafening silence, picking up a framed photo of you and him at a carnival. you both shared a huge bag of cotton candy, his jacket covering your body, and his arm slung around your shoulders. you had always joked that when you brought men over and they saw that photo, they’d get scared away, not wanting to get involved with your nhl ‘boyfriend’.

“what are you here for, jack?” you ask, not entertaining his antics. he’s trying to butter you up. making you relive all the memories from the past and automatically forgive him, but it wasn’t going to work.

his body tenses as he places the photo down. “you know what i’m here for.” he insinuated, moving closer to you. “i need to explain. everything.”

you stood your ground, standing tall and confident. nodding your head, you urged him to continue.

“i’m so sorry for everything.” he began. “i led you on, lied to you, and made our relationship toxic. i took you for granted, y/n, and i regret it every single day.”

you stood there in silence, waiting for more to come from his apology.

he swallowed hard before starting to speak once again. “i’m going to be honest with you. i’m absolutely in love with you. more than just as friends. fuck, i have been since i met you.” he takes in a sharp breath, putting his hand behind his neck and throwing his head back. “i’m- i’m not good with emotions and feelings. this is going to sound pathetic, but the only thing i’ve truly loved besides my family was hockey. then you came along and changed that.”

tears started to swell in your eyes at his words. your body practically gives out as you slowly position yourself in the loveseat next to you.

you were seeing a whole other side to jack. he rarely ever opened up about his emotions like this. you were both confused as of what to do. the love related emotions being so foreign.

finally, he looks back down, locking eyes with you once again. the second he sees your watery eyes, the tears start to pour out of his. “i used all those other girls as distractions because i knew i couldn’t be with you. i knew i’d ruin you if we were together, and i couldn’t take it.” he admits through hiccuped breaths. “but i never would’ve thought that all of this would be hurting you just as bad.”

“oh, jack.” you coo, holding your hand out as a signal for him to join you on the small chair. “i wish you would’ve just told me this before.” he takes your hand, slowly placing himself next to you. your hand tangles with his hair as you pull him into your neck.

you both cry in the comfort of each others embrace. his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you as close as possible. one of your hands massaging his scalp. while the other comfortingly rubbed up and down his back.

“i understand if you don’t forgive me. i promise i do.” he mumbles against your neck.

his words shoot a pang of hurt to your heart. “why would i not forgive you?” your voice was soft and soothing.

he says nothing in reply, not trying to make you forgive him out of pity. “jack, everyone has their ups and downs once in a while. what’s going to make our relationship strong is if we work through them together. i forgive you because you were trying to navigate your feels and ended up getting lost.”

“i love you so much,” he places soft kisses on the inside of your neck, “but we can’t be together. i’m only going to hurt you, and i don’t want that.”

“what’s hurting me more is that we aren’t together.” you retort. “let’s just try to make this work…please.” you plead.

“together?” he pulls away. his tear stained eyes meeting yours.

“together.” you reassure, kissing his lips gently.

#hearts4hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #nora's writings 💐

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mimicha-arts · 8 months

Text

Date: 09/29 SPOILERS FOR S2 Part 1

I don't know how many times I rewrote everything, my documents flew away for dozens of pages, so I will divide my post into several parts.

I like to theorize and explain things to myself, but at the moment every new question that comes up contradicts every answer I found. I don’t have a lot of time now, and unfortunately I have to write first, then translate. So I don't know when I will be able to edit the next part and post it.

In the first post I want to talk about time, number of attempts, and what the original reality is. My friendly reminder - this is all just empty speculation and I'm just having fun (while crying actually). I'm pretty sure that when we get trailers and more information about canon, I'll change my mind a lot. But that's it for now.

Time

The events in s2 take place in a short time. In the last interview it was said that about 3 days had passed. so. October, 23th - Lu Guang was stabbed, Cheng Xiaoshi was interrogated during the day, the events in the hospital placed during the evening. October, 24th - Chen Bin's funeral, Cheng Xiaoshi dived in his photo October, 25th - dive in Li Tianxi's photo, interrogation of Li Tianchen, time loop, Lu Guang's kidnapping October, 26th - everything that happened in the theater and in the tunnel Plus taking into account the time (about a month) they spent in the hospital, ep12 ends at the end of November/beginning of December, congratulations. The start of the new year is almost here, have we really crossed the critical point for Cheng Xiaoshi and he won't be forever 21? Heh.

9/13 is not the date of Cheng Xiaoshi's death, it has to be 9/12. Below I will describe why I think that this is not his first attempt, and in this case more than 5 minutes have definitely passed. Time has not stood still, seconds are passing. Lu Guang's watch does not say five in the morning, but midnight and five minutes. The date of the password is Lu Guang's reminder, corresponding exactly to the time of the dive. If that's the case, I believe that each new reality is a new password corresponding to the time of diving, as a reminder of the previous failure.

Technically, I think that Cheng Xiaoshi actually died at 5:35 in the original timeline - this date was indicated, everything led to it, but in the end it was not shown in s2 itself. The events in the tunnel do not correspond to this time, since the actions took place earlier (the meeting at the theater was scheduled for 3 am, the rest of the events happened very quickly, the whole action couldn't have lasted for 2 hours and a half, so I think everything happened before approximately 4 am or so).

It coincides too well with this broken time in the Overthink. So, I am desperate enough to believe that Cheng Xiaoshi's death occurred at 05:35 (as actual time). Even if the specific time in the ED can be perceived as 5:20, because that is literally the reason why Lu Guang broke the time - his wish that Cheng Xiaoshi could live, his love for Cheng Xiaoshi. It is possible that time passed in the original reality - literally from this moment until the last attempt at 00:05. So maybe. While Lu Guang lives one life after another, in fact, Lu Guang is truly “frozen” in this 12-13 September, and not even a day has passed in the original timeline. Why do I think that exactly this amount of time has passed (more than five minutes, but less than a day)?

It’s difficult to say at all that Cheng Xiaoshi died in the photo studio in the first place.

There are changes in the design of their room.

Lu Guang probably washed the blood from his hands, so he spent some time for it, but did not change his clothes, still covered in blood, even has traces of blood on his face. (Did Cheng Xiaoshi touch his face before he died? Did Lu Guang himself cry, covering his face with hands? Oh, boy)

I'll talk about details in the next part.

Again and again

I feel sorry for him. He is the most pathetic, most selfish, most insane person in the universe. I love it so much.

I believe we have not yet seen the actual chronology in terms of events, but we have seen the original timeline in terms of Lu Guang's insane room.

I’m sure this is not his first dive; we have always had the symbolism of constant resets. Again and again, again and again, again and again. I think there have been many attempts. As many as there were photographs he could find - if the ability works the same way as Cheng Xiaoshi use it himself, and he should be the author of the photo, we can only cover our heads with our hands and cry.

This is Lu Guang's POV - Lu Guang already knew that the death node cannot be changed (meaning he already tried), but he still wants to use the very last attempt to try.

He looks so dead inside, it's impossible. In my understanding: he initially used earlier photographs that were closer to September, the death of Cheng Xiaoshi in the original reality, and then dived deeper and deeper into the past, into more distant events.

Let's go back to s1. It is still difficult to say how many times the events were repeated. Lu Guang himself confirmed it in his words that this happened more than once. There have been a lot of attempts, he himself said “no matter how hard you try".

I think that “last chance” meant just that, last chance. From what he said, we know that a photo can only be used once. If s1 showed us the events of the current timeline, which I believe, this was probably one of the earliest photos that Lu Guang could use - a photo that happened before their first meeting. Back to their real beginning. This… tritely has a beautiful and symbolic logic behind it. Current events are “all or nothing.”

The photo studio from the flashback is the original universe, this reality is not destroyed, he returns to it after each original attempt. We know that Cheng Xiaoshi died many times in many different ways. If there have been many attempts, if the attempts are limited to photographs, all he can do is use them from some original point.

Like I think he can't get an "infinite" number of attempts by using the photos again within the "past" he returned to. In my opinion, “dive within a dive” is impossible. I don't think that after diving, there is a possibility of another dive by the same person inside the diving - because it makes more sense if Lu Guang has an invisible timer that reminds him - the time is running out.

I think the design of their room in the original timeline confirms this. Their table is always full of books, there are things, lamps, even framed photo. Everything is empty. If these were the events immediately after Сheng Xiaoshi's death, would their room be so lifeless?

I'm inclined to think that Lu Guang went through all their belongings, used every possible attempt to find suitable photographs that would allow him to try to rewrite the events again.

I find destroyed or burned photographs more symbolic of failed attempts being burned, too - after all, a photo can only be used once, everything is changing, it’s not a time loop. Every used photo, every reality that doesn't turn out well, is another crossed out opportunity. But remembering his words about the destruction of photos - I think that we will see this again in the context of the fact that he destroyed the photos himself. It is quite possible that he destroys the photo after the dive to erase the reality/time where Cheng Xiaoshi died again as a fact. Because… otherwise a terrible situation will arise. If Lu Guang possesses himself from a photo, then after leaving it after Cheng Xiaoshi's death, the original!Lu Guang moves back to the original line, while Lu Guang from the rewritten timeline remains in the timeline where Cheng Xiaoshi is dead (and if the events are rewritten so deeply, it is not at all clear what will happen to his memory). Therefore, I am sure that the original Lu Guang must destroy the photographs because of this as well.

I was wondering if he destroys the photo while diving, right after it - maybe that's how the mechanics could work, I would say, of how he "locks" himself into a certain reality. But since I believe that he should return to the "original point", I do not think that this is possible - if he doesn't need to come back, if he just "dives after diving" further into the next timeline, it won't make sense: more photos can be taken, attempts won't end with a limit. But do I like this idea for the last attempt? That he has to live his entire life from the very beginning without a “save point” to return to? Oh. Yes. Note: I considered the possibility that there is no original timeline as a starting point for diving, that he dives again after diving inside the dive itself, destroys the photo immediately inside the dive, that everything is repeated again, no limit either. Just at some point Lu Guang himself decides there is no point in continuing to use any photos from this period, so decided to use a photo corresponding to the very very beginning. But in doesn't make sense, in any case he will have the opportunity to take more photos that he could use for further dives, this does not create a " the last try" point (even if it was possible, also knowing Lu Guang’s character, I don’t think that he could partly “give up”, partly take such risks voluntarily)

But it's still questionable. Because, if the original timeline exists, all dives were made from there, then a simple problem arises - given Cheng Xiaoshi's ability, all dives take place in “real time”, i.e. in the original reality the same amount of time should also pass. We all understand that this is impossible, it is difficult to imagine how many attempts Lu Guang made, how many years actually passed.

So, if we believe that the “original reality” is a thing, then the combination of their abilities, becoming a “perfect fusion,” has other limits, other specifics of using and/or the original timeline is so broken that time only passes when Lu Guang exists in it.

The original universe… or?

I hope I've made it clear enough before - in my opinion the original timeline was shown to us in terms of the timeline from where he dives into the photos. Their room. Because there must be something that creates a limited number of attempts.

But I have some doubts about the fact that what we saw in the vision or flashback is the original timeline, too. Yes, they could have shown us the very first death of Cheng Xiaoshi, this would even be logical, but the problem is that this is only relevant if we agree that Lu Guang has white hair from birth.

Considering that the hints themselves within the series may turn out to be a joke, I still haven't completely dismissed this idea. The only characters with unusual hair color are twins, but they are like that at least because of genetics, they inherited it from their mother. While the issue with Lu Guang remains open.

Therefore, I am considering 2 simple options: 1. Lu Guang's hair was originally white from birth, so we shouldn't expect him to have a different design in the original timeline. Or Lu Guang's hair turned white before Cheng Xiaoshi's death for some other reason. Then we can safely say that the events of the flashback is the original universe.

2. Lu Guang's hair was not originally white, but his hair gradually turned white with each dive attempt due to overpowering, trying too many times, and overusing his abilities.

If we consider the second option, then:

The flashback events shown to us are one of the later attempts, for example, the penultimate one, which is generally a possible option. That version of death, when Cheng Xiaoshi received a very similar injury to Lu Guang - that why the flashbacks were specifically about this late attempt.

The events shown to us are this current reality in which Cheng Xiaoshi was/has to be the 7th case, and this is exactly the death that was intended for him in this timeline - but this period of time, from April to September, was cut out and "stolen", just as case 7 disappeared. And that in the most recent attempt, not only was time rewritten “from the very beginning,” from the very first photo, but something else happened to prevent Cheng Xiaoshi’s death at the appointed time.

The one who was supposed to die in the photo studio when Lu Guang was stabbed - was Cheng Xiaoshi himself, and what was shown was not a flashback, but Lu Guang's vision of how things could have been different (if we perceive the forest not as a literal location, but a symbol) . I doubt it, but let's leave this possibility open.

Why do I even think that the white hair theory could be real? Of course, maybe it's just the light, but maybe… Due to Li Tianxi's memories and abilities, taking over the memories from the other reality in which Lu Guang lived, Qiao Ling's hair also changed a bit. Pay attention to the only white strain in her hair. This is an extremely interesting and rather intentional detail.

If this is the case, then Qiao Ling's white hair is a hint. This does not mean that every attempt is 1 white strand of hair. It's not that… literal. This is an artistic way of allowing the viewer to speculate if this is the case.

I'm not betting on any particular idea, given that things can't be that simple and we don't really know how September-April will be explained. Another problem is why Lu Guang is wearing a watch on his other hand in this shot. Everything may be different, case 7 may be about a completely different character. But I also think many things will be connected at some point.

Photos and OP

There are a lot of photographs. So many. As we remember from Dive Back in Time. There will be two key ones - thanks to Vortex.

One of which is precisely related to the moment that allowed Lu Guang to travel 6 years (or more) into the past - to the moment they even met. Would this be a photo at school? Was it an accidental photo left behind? I have much more painful though. Their “very beginning” has a huge chance of not being high school time, but as I mentioned before, I’ll leave that for a separate post.

But the other one? I can’t imagine clearly, of course, but for me there are 3 ways:

This is about the current timeline - September-October were influenced by the use of a different photo - it will let us understand what the 7th case and one of the main storylines.

The starting point from where Lu Guang began his attempts to save Cheng Xiaoshi and change his fate. The core one.

If we believe the hints in the art book, the intro, the dark design of Cheng Xiaoshi, then the photo will be from the moment where something happens to make CXS become depresso!CXS.

I had hopes that the teaser would be about s3, and thus something would become clearer in my head, but… For now, we can only build theories for the next year or two.

Thank you for reading ~

#link click #link click s2 #shiguang dailiren #link click spoilers #link click theory #mimicha.lc #I'm banging my head against the wall because I don't have clear thoughts #there are too many possibilities and they are all 50/50 #I really think that we are going about the same way as 仙王的日常生活 ... at some point

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randomyuu · 7 months

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there's a lover in the story, but the story's still the same

Ahh, don’t you love it when fear motivates your drawing mood? (not really)

That’s what I felt reading the scene that is drawn below. It’s fear for Yuuji but also feeling excited picturing an emotionless teen!Gojou so here I am. Always down bad for Vox’s Goyuu fics, aren’t I? *sighs*

Welp, here we go.

Title: there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Author: @voxofthevoid

Second fic of the series there’s a lover in the story, but the story’s still the same

Pairing YuuGo, NSFW, please read the tags carefully before giving it a read... the usual drill ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

!!! SPOILER FOR THE FIC !!!

Highly recommend you guys to read them first. Or not, it’s up to you honestly :v

Usually I would gush about the fic but I’ve already done that under the fic itself so I just want you to know this comic is solely carried by me wanting to draw the ticking time bomb called teen!Gojou-post-discussion-with-adult!Ieiri. You could probably guess what they’re talking about :”)

The fear for Yuuji’s well-being started this, but Satoru’s cold eyes kept me going. I can’t get rid of it from my mind lmao

You can say drawing these kind of expressions is my jam (￣▽￣)

I hope I did Satoru’s emotions justice haha

A bit of my thoughts and doodle below. Unhinged maybe, it’s midnight, I got more work to do after this, and my brain cells are barely hanging on. Haha I'm living the life-

I AM STILL REELING FROM THE FACT I MANAGED TO GET THIS DONE.

There are so many things I want to talk about in the process of making this. But after I typed it out, most of them sounded so unnecessary so I rewrote it a few times. I tried to make this as short as possible lmao

Typesetting and sketching are the roughest parts of this project. During these stages, I kept feeling everything I did wasn’t doing the scene enough justice, and it was frustrating. As I planned this project, I read a few doujins and noticed the font types scanlation teams use. There are so many of them, and each helped convey the tone of each image. Felt like crying when I realised I’m not knowledgeable enough to apply good typesetting, ngl. And then the interior design. Fuck, the frustration is so real. I am absolutely clueless about this kind of thing. Tracing lots of references because I have no perception of space makes me feel even worse. I knew first times rarely create a masterpiece, but I was not satisfied with my accomplishment and the feeling of failing to fulfil my own expectations hurt.

BUT.

Thank goodness most of the things I need to draw are Shouko, Yuuji and Satoru. Because dear g o d drawing them healed me. I found so much comfort in drawing Shouko’s long hair and Satoru’s eyes and drowning Yuuji in an oversized hoodie. The comfort zone of character drawing never feels so real lmaooo

Drawing them was so effective that I can look back at the backgrounds with acceptance. Hey, I did it! Not perfect just yet, but I did it!

Haha I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know if it’s in a good way or a bad way. Guess I do have one or two screws loose.

Only for Yuuji lmao

(nah I just need sleep, or cooling down from the rush of having finished this)

It might come off as a surprise if you’ve only seen my art on Tumblr, but I’ve always preferred to draw feminine-leaning ladies. I’ve always loved drawing their curves, whether it’s the figure, the clothes, or the (long) hair. But I’ve grown to like drawing masculine gentlemen as well with their sharp edges and straight lines, and now my ladies start to look more androgynous lmao

Anyway, I was pretty stoked to be able to draw adult!Ieiri! I… I kind of miss drawing long hair so here have some more before you go on your day ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk-ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #I'll see you sometime later #if real life lets me haha #:")

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h4sanz · 3 months

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ichor.

pairings: nikolai gogol x f!reader

warnings: smut, roleplay, hints of primal prey, intense knife and blood play, dumbification, degredation, name calling, brat taming, impact play, dacryphilia, manhandling, bondage, major consensual non-consent, hints of dub con

word count: 1.4k

a/n: started writing this late 2022 and finally finished LOL. deleted and rewrote this SO many times, but finally got a result i liked ;)

your heart is pounding in your chest as you hear footsteps approaching. they still for a moment while you try to breathe as quietly as possible so he doesn’t hear.

you almost let out a sigh of relief when you hear those light footsteps again as they fade away. holding your chest with your hand, you use the other to quietly push the door open.

“there you are.” you freeze. but he walked away… is all you can think as he slowly steps towards you. you whimper when you feel the cold steel touch your lips. “you think you can hide from me? hm, you really are stupid.”

“k–kolya.. wh..” you’re cut off by the white-haired man shushing you, a finger against the grin on his lips. tsk, tsk, tsk. you never seem to learn, he thinks, jotting down a mental note to go over his rules again, later.

anxiety courses throughout your entire body, leaving you paralyzed. you knew better than to try to fight back, the man’s ability rendering any sort of attack from you useless; and that’s just how he wanted it. a monster: what every person who’s had some sort of encounter with him seems to think about him. the silence is tense, dragging out the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach whilst nikolai… enjoyed it? the disdain on your face amuses him; and that thought makes you sick, knowing he is getting off on your terror.

a loud cackle makes you shiver in fear, your eyes snapping towards his humored face as he throws his head back. “ah, even if you’re stupid, you’re still the most adorable human i have ever come across,” nikolai comments as he takes notice of the way your thighs just ever-so-slightly squeeze together. the knife glides across your lip, scraping towards the apple of your cheek. the glimmer of the steel shines in your eyes, the reflection of yellow irises barring into you.

wincing, your face scrunches up in pain at the sharp sting on your face, a trail of blood beginning to fall as you hold in a cry. a burning sensation then takes over, the feeling of wetness sliding along the bright red mark on your portrait. “who knew blood could taste so good..” he remarks, now dragging his finger over the wound, gathering the blood on his fingertip before rubbing it against his thumb.

nikolai begins writing on the other side of your face, the letters messy and almost unintelligible due to the messy ink. ‘mine.’

fingers are shoved into your mouth, a metallic taste clashing with your tastebuds. a moan slips out of your throat and through his digits, just barely loud enough to make him throb between his legs.

when he pulls his fingers from your wet cavern, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder before making his way towards the room. you thrash against him, kicking your legs and banging on his back while sobbing out soft pleads for mercy. “kolya! pl–ease.. don’t, i promise i’ll be good!” you beg once he reaches the entrance to the room he’d gotten made specially just for you. “baby, i promise i won’t do it again. please don— ah!” a cry shatters out of you as you hit the ground with a deep thud.

you quickly scramble to sit on your butt, your arms holding you up whilst staring at him with tears in your eyes. “i don’t remember saying you could talk, let alone tell me what to do.” he lifts his shoe to rest on your crotch before deeply pressing down. a shiver crawls up your spine when the metallic blade suddenly appears against your throat, pressing into the skin, but not hard enough to pierce it. “the more you act like this, the more difficult it’ll be for you.”

“m’ sorry, kolya.”

he laughs at the whimper that falls from your lips as you apologize, crouching down to forcefully make you face him. “i know, darling. but you still need to be dealt with accordingly.” you’re once again being hoisted up onto his shoulder, hanging lifelessly in defeat.

it feels like hours before you’re dropped onto the leather doctor’s office-like chair. you beg nikolai with your eyes one last time, causing him to shoot you a dirty look as if to say ‘don’t you dare’.

you don’t even notice you’re fully strapped down until you reach to feel the cut on your skin, hands and ankles bound to leather cuffs. “no use trying to get them off. there’s no where to run.” he clearly finds pleasure in being condescending, always making sure to assert his dominance and position of superiority over you.

the tip of the weapon trails along your abdomen, inching closer and closer to your to your core, stopping right below your navel.

the steel spins, the tip digging into your skin ever-so-slightly just before it trails even lower, aiming for your thigh. it digs down, causing a prick of blood to bubble up, then gliding it across the expanse of your upper leg, leaving a thick trail of your ichor. you scream out in a pained cry, your whole body tensing. this cut is much deeper and larger than the previous one on your cheek, the pain almost unbearable.

“oh, what a wonderful view. however, i bet the sight of you coming because of our mixed blood would be absolutely delightful, my kryhitko.” suddenly, the knife scrapes across his fourarm, the delicious blood dripping directly onto your cut.

fingers then trace the fresh wound of yours, smearing the fluid around the perimeter. the now drenched appendages make their way towards your pulsing core, slowly beginning to draw up and down your folds. you hate how wet you are—how turned on you are because of the heiness acts the white haired clown is committing.

“you seem to be enjoying this almost as much as i am,” he smirks at you before slowly inserting his fingers. they softly graze the walls of your core, the slightest amount of pressure making you twitch. gliding in and out of you, they curl ever-so-slightly, reaching towards your g-spot. nikolai begins to rub slow circles on your clit, in a massage-like pattern. he’s mesmerized; the color of your blood and slick combining look so delicious on his fingers; the way you flutter when he applies pressure on your most sensitive spot; the lustful look in your eyes as he works wonders on your body–all of it. he’s absolutely enthralled with you. and the way you so gracefully murmur his name helps not one bit.

the sound of your cunt fills his ears–one of the greatest sounds he’s ever heard, to tell the truth; everything about you drives him wild. the closer you get to release, the louder your pants and whines get. when you start to buck your hips up towards him, he slows his pace but continues to go even deeper inside of you.

you’re getting close to your release when he stops, removing all hands from you.

when he sees the pout in your eyes, he looks at you mockingly, “aw, so close, weren’t you?—well you know the rules. no coming until i say so, dove.” a sigh falls from you, almost like a groan, but your face stays still, knowing if you look at him a certain way, things will get ten times worse for you.

once your breathing has calmed, pleasure begins to start building up once again, harsher than before.

and then—

it’s gone: again.

his torture continues for what feels like hours to you: bringing you to the brink of release, then removing all contact from you. you can’t even remember how many times he’s done this, already, but it’s got to be at least more than five.

your impending orgasm begins to build up, urging you so, so close until it storms over you like a tsunami. your eyes are blurry, scrunched up in fixation whilst your whole body convulses due to the pleasure. words spill from your mouth, like ‘sorry’ and ‘please’. however, your mind is still just barely conscious enough to realize your fate; your fate that is in the hands of a clown, a man who loves tormenting more than anything. and for a moment, his smile quivers in ire.

“oh, my sweet dove,” he coos softly into your ear, feigning sympathy; although irritation discernible in his voice.

the apologies coming from you slip right past him. you think you deserve forgiveness? absolutely not. and he’ll be sure to help you understand that.

sorry abt the shitty ending (◞‸◟) but if you made it here , thx sm for reading !! tis my first (fully completed) one shot ;> so feedback more than welcome! feel free to dm with any tips :]

#bungou stray dogs #nikolai #nikolai gogol #nikolai smut #bsd #bsd smut #i want his dick so far down my throat it leaves bruises #h4sanz writes ……✎

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neonghostlights · 1 year

Text

Series Masterlist

A/N: I rewrote this three times and I kept crying. Listened to Go Solo by Tom Rosenthal while writing this. Have fun.

Warnings: Lots of heartbreaking angst and longing, Readers not in this one, doesn’t reveal a whole lot, sorry. 18+ only, minors DNI.

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think.

Part Six-Eddie’s POV

Friday, September 26th, 1986

The towel made a squeaking noise as he rubbed it against the mirror to clear the condensation from his shower.

The bathroom in the new trailer was a little bit larger than the last. Him and Wayne were fortunate to get a two bedroom, meaning Wayne got his own room too after years of not having one. Wayne didn’t have to sleep on that old stupid cot or the couch anymore. Eddie noticed he didn’t complain much about his back as much now that he had made the transition to an actual bed.

Not like the cot or couch even existed anymore. He kissed those and their entire home goodbye.

At least this new trailer wasn’t in a park anymore, but on a plot of land away from town.

Somehow, Eddie’s room was spared for the most part in the old trailer, a few things knocked over here and there. Wayne had joked that Eddie’s room had always looked destroyed, so he couldn’t tell the difference. When Eddie didn’t laugh, Wayne didn’t joke about it again.

That’s one thing out of many that Eddie feels guilty for. He didn’t mean to bombard into Wayne’s life like a bull in a china shop and tear everything apart with his bare hands, but here he was.

He stared into the small bathroom mirror that hung above the sink. Turning his body slightly to the left, and then to the right, he checked out his scars. Pink and still raised, like the doctors said they would be for a while.

He honestly didn’t even care about the scars. He had made it out alive despite his stupidity. The marks on his body reminded him that what happened was real. It wasn’t some sick and twisted nightmare his brain had conjured up to fuck with him.

Turns out nightmares happen when you’re awake too.

So the scars were his reminders. These days, he relied heavily on reminders, some good and some bad.

You almost touched the scar on his chest the other day when he made fun of the sandwich you had made him. Your hand swung out to swat at him playfully, something that you didn’t realize you had done a million times before. He caught your hand before it could make contact though. Worried that you would be able to feel the disfigured skin through his t-shirt.

If you got your memory back tomorrow would you still love him? Scars and all?

He knows you would.

He got dressed into his work uniform. Clothes stained from motor oil no matter how many times he tried to wash them or scrub them out.

Groaning, he moved his tired body back to his room.

His room. His lonely, sad room.

He never hung the posters that he was able to save up and his guitar no longer hung proudly in the forefront of his room. Instead, it sat in the back of his closet, collecting dust. He couldn’t bring himself to play anymore. It was another reminder.

He sat on the side of the unmade bed, not too concerned about being late for work. He was part time and kept away from the prying eyes of most customers. He knows it was a pity hire, but if he turned it down that would be another thing to feel guilty for. Another way to let Wayne down.

Another way to let you down.

He tries to push the thought away, not ready to process the loss he’s suffered this early in the morning. But lately, he’s been a sucker for pain. He lets his mind wander to a place he would want to remain in for the rest of the day, for the rest of his life. A place where you still loved him.

He thinks you would like the new trailer. He can imagine you bringing your sunlight in with you, just like you did everywhere you went. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine you waltzing through here oohing and aahing at everything you saw, coming up with ideas on how to make the place more ‘homey’. Trying to make the best out of every situation, no matter how shitty it was.

Looking over at his nightstand he sees the framed picture of you and him the day you graduated. You were laughing at something dumb Eddie had said. Eddie was so grateful for the damn picture, it was tangible proof that you two had loved each other deeply. It was obvious by your smile, and the way he looked at you.

Reaching into his nightstand drawer, he finds the object that was the main reason he had returned to that trailer in the first place.

He held the velvet box between his fingers, feeling the soft material. He opened the box slowly to reveal the ruby engagement ring. The ruby was round, placed on a gold band with small diamonds surrounding the gem.

Eddie remembers the day you spotted it in the antique store in town you frequented. Your whole face lit up as you stared at it behind the glass. Eddie had always known he would marry you, and the second he saw that ring he knew it was the one.

Right after he dropped you off at home that day, making up an excuse about needing to help Wayne with something, he rushed back to the store and begged the owner not to sell it to anyone else until he got the money together for it.

He had never sold so much for Rick in his life. He worked as many odd jobs around the park as he could. He even picked up a weekend job. And finally, after months of hard work, he got the ring.

He just had to wait until after graduation, get his diploma and then a job. He didn’t even care if his future career wasn’t in music anymore.

He just wanted to marry you. The love of his life.

Snapping the box shut, he put it back in the drawer. The pain in his chest growing too painful when he thinks about what could have been.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. He can only blame himself though, if he hadn't cut the rope, everything would be okay. You would still be okay. You wouldn’t look at him like a stranger anymore.

If only it was so easy to rewind time, he would watch over and over to try to figure it out. He was told it was a head injury, but how? Dustin had been with you while you both sobbed over his bleeding body. Eddie hadn’t been lucid enough to notice, but one moment you were normal and the next you were gone.

Dustin says he never saw you hit your head but there was so much going on that he might have missed it. Dustin was tired of repeating the story over and over again. The situation was traumatic for him too.

Eddie remembers the bats, the biting, the blood and the screams. He remembers hearing you trying to help him, desperately trying to keep the blood in his body and his heart pumping. The world grew colder and colder. The only thoughts replaying in his head was that he would never get to marry you now. Never get to see you smile at him again pure love in your eyes. No more donut runs on Saturday mornings when you dragged him out of bed by his feet. He wouldn’t get to see the way you bobbed your head to a song you really liked or chewed on your lip when you were mad.

By the time he had stopped bleeding, your mind was already gone.

Dustin calls it a miracle that he stopped bleeding. The doctors aren’t sure how it happened. They told him he got a second shot at life.

Sometimes he thinks that he actually did die and was damned to a hell where his love didn’t love him anymore.

Steve and Nancy think the trauma was too much for you. Seeing the love of your life torn apart was too much. That your brain had flipped a switch to protect itself. Your mind wanted to tune out before it had to watch Eddie die.

Eddie thinks that’s bullshit. He didn’t die. He’s still here and you still don’t know him.

So he plans to prove them wrong.

He knows that deep down you know him.

The group has been divided over what to do. Vecna was still alive and had been eerily quiet since the quake, Max was still in a coma even though it had been months, and you didn’t even remember him.

Your freak out the other day terrified him. It hurt him so bad to see you like that.

He hadn’t told the group about it yet. He knew that Robin and the kids were on his side with his plan to make you remember him, although they were concocting plans of their own. Nancy and Jonathan remained neutral.

Steve was the main problem. He was so determined to listen to the science and what the doctors and your mom thought was best for you. Eddie already had to have a talk with him about being cold to you and making you upset at work. He doesn’t know what would happen if he had to talk to him again. He liked Harrington, but he wasn’t going to stand around and let him hurt his girl's feelings.

Eddie stood from the bed and made his way through the house and out the front door.

He wished he could see you today. He wished he didn’t have to go to this stupid job. If it was up to him, he would make up a million excuses to always be at your house.

Do you even remember that the house was left to you by your grandma? That it’s in your name? Or is that another thing your mom was hiding from you under the guise of ‘protection’? He would bet money that your mom made it seem like she’s letting you live there as a favor, just so she could pull it out from under you whenever she wanted to.

Did you know that you and him were supposed to move in there together after he graduated?

The morning after he painted the living room, you tried to shove some money into his hand. He refused it, laughing and tossing it back at you. He wonders how much of a fight you’re going to put up when you realize he’s not even going to let you pay for any of the repairs on the car.

He had left his phone number for you before he left your house. Told you to call if there was an emergency. A selfish part of him hoped you would call even if it wasn’t an emergency.

He listens to loud music on the way to work to try to drown out the thoughts about you. It never works.

Your face is in the front of his mind as usual. Like it’s been everyday for the past two years. Maybe even longer.

Unlike two years ago though, you look so lost now. The light that was once in your eyes has dimmed. You’re constantly looking around like you’re scared something is going to jump out at you.

He knows that you’re in there somewhere though. You’ve always been so observant, much more than him. Sometimes when he’s talking to you he notices a little spark in your eye, like maybe you’re trying to remember something but then give up.

He’s going to keep fighting though. He made a promise to not only you but himself that he wouldn’t give up on you. He would keep trying no matter how long it took.

And when he got to work, the thought of seeing your face tomorrow is what got him through the day.

Tag list: (Tag wouldn't work)

@sadbitchfangirll @gaysludge @daisydamed

@mandyjo8719 @josephquinncore @stevieharringtonswife @hazydespair @sheneedsrocknroll92 @mopeymopeymouse

@portaltothevoidd @sidthedollface2 @mjmunson93 @pbs-theundeadmaggott @luceneraium @aliceheart247 @kaitebugg03 @emxxblog @blue-eyed-lion @boo22sstuff* @aysheashea @lfaewrites @madaboutjoe

@sweetmariihs2 @wendyfawcettt @ohmeg

@dragonfire @eddiesguitarskills @manda-panda-monium @imtryingahh

Reminder: Taglist is 18+ only.

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #mechanic!eddie munson x reader

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