#walk away? oh no I would much prefer to skip

[the-likesofus]

starting our forever, baby

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.1k words | s7 spec, prev bucktommy, getting together, love confessions, love is stored in the kitchen

Eddie wakes up to a surprise visit from Buck and they finally talk about forever.

Read on AO3

Eddie wakes up to the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen and the smell of pancake batter and hot butter. Neither of these things is cause for alarm nor out of the ordinary but he is ninety-eight percent certain he went to sleep in an empty house. 

He rolls out of bed, shrugging on a sweatshirt and grabbing a pair of soft socks out of his drawer on the way past and to no surprise finds Buck in the kitchen.

“Hey! Eddie,” Buck smiles brightly at him as Eddie cautiously perches himself on a kitchen stool. “Good morning.”

Buck is bathed in sunlight from the kitchen window behind him, a halo of gold filtering through his soft curls, gel-free and touseled on the top of Buck’s head in a way that Eddie wishes he would let them be more often. “Morning, Buck. You’re here early.”

Buck bustles around the kitchen, pulling milk out of the fridge and grabbing a mug from the top cupboard, his body moving around Eddie’s kitchen as if it has been programmed with an innate sense of where to find anything and everything. He could be convinced that Buck knows his way around Eddie’s kitchen better than Eddie does. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just–it’s been a while, yeah? And I feel like I haven’t seen Chris in ages–I miss the kid–and I figured he was probably, if not missing me, at least missing my pancakes. I hope he hasn’t been letting you make them.”

Buck pours coffee from the pot into the mug, tops it off with the precise amount of milk that Eddie prefers, and sets it in front of Eddie before turning to the frying pan and flipping the pancake. “I know you’ve been improving in the cooking department–I can see it, Eddie, and I’m proud of you,” Eddie’s heart squeezes in his chest. “But pancakes are my department.”

“I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.” Eddie quips and Buck whips around to wave the spatula at him.

“Exactly!”

“Buck,” Eddie presses carefully because there’s a frantic energy fizzing beneath Buck’s skin, he can see it in the way he moves, the line of his shoulders, and the exaggerated way he swings his arms. “Christopher isn’t here. He’s on school camp until Friday.”

“Oh, right, I knew that.” Buck’s whole body joints to a stop like a record skipping on a turntable and then just as soon he’s back in motion again. “That’s okay! I brought lemon juice for on your pancakes, we can save the bacon for the weekend when he gets back.”

Eddie’s heart grows three sizes in his chest, threatening to burst out all over his kitchen and cover Buck and the bench top in a flood of emotions he’s spent the last month and a half trying to fold smaller and smaller until he can safely tuck them away beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone but himself. 

“Buck?” The other man glances at him before turning back to the stove, giving a soft hum in response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Buck grins at him again but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. 

“You’re buzzing, and not the good kind.” Eddie stands and rounds the counter, he leans against the other side while still giving Buck as much space as he needs. He presses again, softer this time. “Buck? What’s going on?”

Buck deflates and turns the stove off, removing the pan from the element and leaning against the other counter opposite Eddie. “Tommy and I broke up. I broke up with him, or we broke up with each other, I guess.” 

Eddie isn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew Buck and Tommy’s relationship had been going smoothly. They were a good fit, even Eddie could tell, as much as it sometimes pained him to admit. But he was happy for them. Seeing them dance together at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding had filled Eddie with a sense of pride even when it also left him feeling like he was walking with a permanent rock in his shoe—a phenomenon he could finally put a name to after a few long talks with Frank and an enlightening if not nervewracking night at a bar called the Peacock that Hen had suggested he visit for ‘research purposes’. 

“I thought you really liked Tommy?” Is what he finally manages to say once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I do,” Buck says. His arms are still full of static as he gestures with his hands in that way that Buck does when he’s nervous or overwhelmed and he’s not looking Eddie in the eyes. Buck shakes his head. “I did. I did, and Tommy is wonderful but I think we both realized that it wasn’t going to last. He got offered a job, down in Mexico.” Buck pushes away from the bench, pulls two plates out of the drawer, and starts dividing the stack of pancakes between them.

“After the whole fiasco with the cruise ship, the LAFD decided they wanted someone on the ground down there as a sort of link between the Los Angeles rescue helicopters and the team down in Mexico City. They’re going to put him in charge of his own team and he’s been working towards some sort of promotion for ages so he’s really excited about it.”

“He didn’t ask you to go with him did he?” Eddie can’t help but let the question burst out of him. The thought of Buck leaving already feels like tearing out a lung but he also knows he’s in no position to ask Buck to stay, certainly not for Eddie’s sake. 

“He did, sort of.” Buck shrugs. “I think he already knew I wouldn’t say yes. L.A. is my home, I couldn’t leave the 118, I couldn’t leave Maddie and Jee-yun. Christopher, the thought of being anywhere that kid isn’t is just—and I know he’s not—but I still couldn’t. I won’t. Tommy knows that. He also knew that I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Me?” Now Eddie has to swallow down a lump of surprise. Eddie doesn't think that little of himself, he knows he’s important to Buck, they are important to each other, but important enough to be the reason Buck stays in Los Angeles while his boyfriend moves to another country?

Buck turns to place two plates, carefully stacked with fluffy, golden pancakes, each drizzled in lemon juice and sprinkled with sugar—Eddie’s favorite—on the kitchen island, and then he’s facing Eddie again only feet away in all his early morning glory and Eddie dares to hope.

“You.” Buck rests one hip against the counter and turns the full power of those bright blue eyes on Eddie as he finally makes eye contact for the first time all morning. “Yes, you, Eddie. Tommy is lovely and sweet and he has been so, so good to me for the last two months, we’ve been good for each other, I think.”

Eddie breaks the eye contact, he’s heard all about how wonderful and lovely Tommy is for the last two months and while he has been so happy for Buck, truly, it has also been agony. But then Buck is stepping up into Eddie’s space and gripping his elbow. Buck ducks his head until he can catch Eddie’s eyes again and follows his gaze until Eddie gives up on trying to hide from him. 

“But it was never going to work long-term, I don’t think it was ever meant to. He’s very sweet and we get along well but it never got any deeper than that. We made better friends than anything else.”

“Okay, so you ended it on mutual terms and he’s moving to Mexico?”

“Not for a few months but eventually he is yes.”

“A few months?”

“Next February.”

“February? Next year? Buck that ages away, why break up now if he’s not leaving until–.”

“Because it was time.”

“Time for what?”

“To stop lying to myself, to you.”

Eddie almost bites his tongue. “Lying to me? Buck, I am so confused right now. Did you hit your head? You do remember coming out to me right? You’ve been dating a man for the last two months. You brought a man to your sister’s wedding. Honestly, I am still living off of the high that I got from seeing your mother’s face when you kissed Tommy on the dance floor, that was—.”

“Eddie!” Buck laughs around his name and it’s the sweetest sound Eddie has ever heard. “Would you let me finish talking? Please?”

Eddie nods. “Right, yes. Sorry. Proceed.” He swings his arm out dramatically and Buck pinches the skin on the back of Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes. 

“Eddie,” There’s a seriousness to Buck’s tone that Eddie doesn’t hear often. “I don’t want to presume anything okay, so if I’ve been reading this wrong then please tell me because I don’t want to make this weird, the last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you uncomfortable but—.” Eddie watches the tick in Buck's jaw tighten. “There’s something here, right? You and me?”

“Do you think there is?” Eddie whispers into the space between them, barely getting the words out past where his heart sits in his throat. 

“I dare to hope there is,” Buck whispers back. “I would like there to be. Eddie, you’re my best friend, you’ve been my rock for years and I love you more than anything but I also—I also think I might be in love with you, and I think I have been for a long time.”

“You think?”

“Like pretty God damn certain actually.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie nods, barely keeping the grin from breaking across his face. He can feel his lips twitching with the effort to suppress it. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He steps into Buck’s space and leans forward until he can press their foreheads together. Buck’s arm slides from Eddie’s elbow to around his waist and Eddie rests his palm against Buck’s chest, sliding it up until he can wrap his fingers over the swell of Buck’s shoulder and press his thumb into that divet in Buck’s throat where Eddie can feel the heat of him and the pulse of his heartbeat beneath the pad of his thumb. “Because I am definitely in love with you.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know and then I did but you were with Tommy and you were happy. I was happy for you.”

Buck breathes deeply and Eddie reveals in the way it rushes past his cheek. “What about you?”

“I’m happy now,” Eddie says and it’s true, and realizing that only multiples the happiness tenfold. “I’m so happy I could burst.”

“Happy that I got dumped again?”

“You didn’t get dumped, you said it was mutual.” Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “But yes, happy that you might finally be mine, that I might finally get to be yours.”

Buck leans back and when Eddie opens his eyes he finds Buck’s eyes glassy and brimming with tears.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Buck says and Eddie pulls him into his arms until they are chest to chest, chins hooked over each other’s shoulders and wrapped up in each other so completely that Eddie could not tell you where one of them ends and the other begins and it feels so right, so right to have Buck so close to him, for them to be one and the same. They breathe together for a long time, squeezing each other closer whenever the micro fraction of an inch between them begins to field like football fields of distance.

“We take this slow, we do it right,” Eddie says carefully, pulling back just far enough to cup his hand around Buck’s cheek and hold his gaze. A niggly part of his brain tries to remind him of everything that could go wrong, of everything they have to lose, but a bigger part of him can only hope for everything that could go so beautifully right. 

“We have the rest of forever, after all.” Buck’s smile is soft at the edges and it smoothes the jagged parts of Eddie’s worry. 

Eddie leans up and presses one gentle kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, allowing himself that much for now. The rest will come, he is in no rush for the rest of his life. On Friday Christopher will be home and they can make pancakes again. At the end of the month, Buck’s lease will expire and Eddie will finally have an excuse to never let Buck leave his house again. In February they will wave Tommy off at the airport and Eddie will get the chance to thank him properly. Soon enough they might get to dance at another wedding, maybe their own, definitely together, for the rest of forever. 

“Forever and a day.” He promises.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #season 7 spec #prev bucktommy #meegs writes stuff #911 on abc #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #911fic #911 fic #eddie x buck #911 fox

[bibannana]

Maul *battling with Ahsoka*: Give up now and I will let you walk away from this!

Ahsoka *raised on sarcasm and sass*: Well that will be mighty inconvenient seeing as I was brought here on a gunship.

#how do you expect me to walk back to the Tribunal? #its in space? #i can even get off planet without a gunship #walk away? oh no I would much prefer to skip #skip? yes or perhaps be carried #i blame anakin for this #and obi-wan #and maybe a small part to the domino twins #ahsoka tano #darth maul #ahsoka #maul #star wars #incorrect star wars quotes #the clone wars #tcw #clone wars #incorrect clone wars quotes

[ohdeersthings]

Soft as Clouds

Neteyam x F!Reader

Summary: You weren't well known in the clan, and when you become friends with Tuk, no one believes her.

Warning: Straight up Flufff

When you were growing up, you found yourself wanting to linger in the background more than insert yourself into the everyday activities of those your age. Like now, you were currently lounging in a tree, eyes facing up at the clouds as they moved by at their own pace.

You were a gatherer for the clan, not that anyone knew. You would rise before the sun to go out and gather the sweetest, most bountiful food your clan had ever tasted, leaving it in the baskets by the main fire circle. The fruits were always plump and juicy, herbs and spices nicely placed in pouches for easy access.

You wanted to begin early to end early, opting to stay out of sight of others. Now, some knew of you, the elders for example always took a small notice on how you were much more reserved than others your age. Your parents of course knew you, but you were a failure of a child in their eyes. At your age you should've been chosen for a mate, or made a mark on the clan in some positive way, but you didn't, so they turned their attention to your more 'promising' younger siblings.

You never cared, preferring your more modest lifestyle of peaceful serenity.

"Whoa! What are you doing up there?"

But Great Mother had other plans for you.

You gazed over the side of the branch you were currently laying on, brushing your hair that had fallen into your eyes away, spotting a young girl in the forest floor below you.

This was not just any girl, oh no, this was Tuktirey, Toruk Maktos youngest child.

You let a small smile slip on your face as you slowly began a decent, swift and agile, like that of a cat.

You knelt infront of her, your eyes meeting hers that were still so full of child like wonder, "what are you doing here small one?" Tuk giggled, looking side to side as if looking for something, or someone.

"I was following my brothers, but I guess I got lost," Extending a hand to Tuk, "Well, let us get you home then," her small fingers wrapped around yours and you both began your walk, going back down the path you had made from the times you ventured out here.

Tuk couldn't help but wonder why she had never seen you before, yet she thought you were very beautiful. The aura that surrounded you was so soft and peaceful, it made her feel instantly safe.

"Why do you come out here, it's very far from home? Are you a hunter or a gatherer? Your hair is very pretty, can you do mine like that? Wait! What's your name?" Tuk rambled out, skipping beside you. A chuckle escaped your lips, you liked Tuk, she was very silly.

You stopped and knelt down beside her, her yellow eyes stared into your soft green eyes and she couldn't help but think you held the forest in your eyes, "My name is (Y/n), I much prefer to gather, and I think your hair is fine just the way it is, simply because it's yours,"

You couldn't help but boop her nose, her nose scrunched as she let out a laugh. You smiled, "now, what is your name?" Tuk felt like you already knew, but she puffed out her chest proud, "My name is Tuktirey, but you can call me Tuk!"

"Such a pretty name," you gasped, standing up and resuming your walk to the village. Tuk swung your intertwined hands back and forth, both of you finding comfort in eachother.

When you had finally happened upon the village, you could hear everyone in a state of panic. Tuk groaned, her ears pinned back, "I think they realized I was gone," you knelt beside her, both of you hidden just out of sight with the plants, "then maybe you should appear,"

Tuk hugged you, you wrapped your arms around her to return the embrace. "Will I see you again?" She asked, pulling away enough to see your face.

"Of course, I quite like you," you smiled, slowly giving her a nudge to the panicked clan members.

When Tuk had emerged out of the brush, the panicked cries turned into one's of relief and joy. Many ran over to embrace her, but by this point you had already vanished without a trace.

"Tuk! Where were you, we were worried sick!" Jake exclaimed, sweeping his youngest into his arms and giving her a extra tight hug. "I tried to follow Neteyam and Lo'ak but I got lost, but it's okay!" Tuk laughed, "I found (Y/n) and she helped me get home!"

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a look, as did some of the other clan members. Your name was no familiar, almost positive there was no one in the village who has that name.

"Tuk, what are you talking about?" Neytiri wondered, taking her child from her mate and settling her on the ground in front of her, "There is no one named (Y/n) in the village," Neytiri began to examine Tuk for a head injury, but Tuk pulled her head away in annoyance, "I know what happened, (Y/n) helped me, she's right,"

But when Tuk turned around to where you had been, you were gone, "she was right here," Tuk cried, but her parents chalked it up to fatigue from being lost all day.

"Come, you must eat and rest," Neytiri pulled Tuk along by the hand, which Tuk did almost sulkly, glancing back one more time to see you emerge and give her a wink before disappearing behind everyone's backs. Tuk grinned, now happily walking with her Mom.

~.~

Weeks had passed and Tuk now snuck off any chance she had to find you, sometimes waking up early to join you on your gathering. You were like another big sister to her, you were so soft and gentle with her, it almost reminded her of her own mother. You would show her the best places to gather fruit and herbs, show her how to move silently through the forest so not to disturb it.

In return, Tuk gave you simple companionship. You always thought it was fun being alone, but Tuk gave you a shining light of what having someone around could be like.

When Tuk would return from wherever you two had disappeared to, she would tell her family all about it, now causing Jake and Neytiri to worry that she was making up stories to make herself feel important like her siblings.

"Ma Jake, I'm beginning to worry about Tuk," Neytiri spoke one day when she watched her youngest venture off into the brush before she could stop her, "it is not safe out there but yet she continues to go, we must stop her," Jake could only hum in agreement.

"What's the name of the person she speaks of? (Y/n)? Are we sure she's not a person in the clan?" Jake questioned, Neytiri feeling her shoulders sag in exhaustion cause she had asked any gatherer, hunter or healer she could think of and no one knew about you.

"Maybe we should send Neteyam with her one day? Make sure she's really safe? See what he can find out?" Neytiri fired off question after question, Jake taking her hands into his as he calmed her down, "That's sounds like a great idea, if there's anyone who can find out it's him, come, let's find him,"

They both set off to find their eldest, who they were sure was going to throw a fit hearing about their plan.

~.~

Tuk panted, running up to a clearing where she saw you relaxing by a small pond, toes and feet floating in the clear water. "I'm here! What are we going to do today?" Tuk skipped over, taking a seat next to you as your turned your gaze to her, a smile coating your face.

"What would you like to do?" You asked, Tuks face scrunched up in thought before asking you, "Could we go for a swim next to the waterfall?" You thought about it, before nodding. It was very close to the village, but you were looking forward to spending time with Tuk.

"Awesome!" She cheered, pulling you up off the ground and began the walk, with you giggling behind her.

The water had been very liberating of any stress or thoughts that plagued you. You sighed in bliss, leaning back to float in the water as your eyes gazed up at the clouds, the soft white making you forget everything.

Tuk had jumped in, splashing you and causing a laugh to erupt from your stomach as you flipped over, watching the young girl giggle and continue to splash you with water.

You began a water assault back, both of you not even paying attention to how loud you were being which caught the attention of Neteyam nearby who had been searching for Tuk under the instructions of their parents.

"Tuk!" He called, walking into the rocky terrain that held the waterfall where he saw Tuk soaked and wading waist deep in the water, her breath heavy as though she ran for miles, yet a smile plastered her lips.

You were no where to be seen, ducking under the water to find a rock that had caught your eye.

"Tuk, it's time to come home, let's go," he helped her out of the water, not noticing you surface up to your shoulders in the shade of a tree that grew on the nearby bank.

Your hair had rested on your face a little and your shoulders, the shade making your eyes almost glow as you analyzed Neteyam. He was your age, currently training to be the next clan leader and yet here he was, fetching his sister.

Tuk through a glance over her shoulder to see you in the shade, throwing up a quick wave goodbye and taking off in front of her brother.

Neteyam had caught her look and couldn't help but turn back, catching a quick sight of you.

A beautiful, young woman who was lounging in the water covered by shade. Your eyes are what caught his attention the most, but just as quick as he'd seen you, the next second he blinked in shock before opening them to find you gone, the water only rippling from where he saw you, well, where he thought he saw you.

Neteyam was now becoming a quick believer of Tuk's stories.

~.~

Now that Neteyam had caught a glimpse of you, he started to see you everywhere. Although, it was out of the corner of his eyes, because when he would turn to see you, your figure was gone, the place he had seen you now empty or void of anyone or anything.

He had told his parents that he didn't see anyone with Tuk, but that was only because he feared how crazy he would sound. Seeing someone who wasn't entirely there and then them being gone the next second. They'd send him straight to the Sky People for evaluation.

Neteyam had followed Tuk out of the hut one late afternoon, Tuk turning to him confused since he has never followed her before, "What are you doing?" Neteyam just smiled, playing an act to follow his parents instructions, "Well, I've missed hanging out with my favorite littlest sister," he roughed up Tuks hair, causing her to hiss and push his hand away, "so I figured we could spend the rest of the day together,"

Tuk glanced sideways towards the path, a bit unsure about how you'd reac to Neteyam coming along, "I don't know, you probably wouldn't be up for it," Neteyam raised an eyebrow, his thoughts consumed on what a child would be doing that he himself couldn't or wouldn't wanna do, especially so late in the afternoon.

"Well, if you're sure," Tuk grinned, taking off down the path faster than Neteyam had expected, "Tuk! Wait for me!"

~.~

You had been lounging in a tree again, this time basking in the setting sun's glow. You felt so warm, the lights rays bringing a sense of belonging to your being.

"(Y/n)!" Tuk exclaimed, running into sight as you glanced down at her, your lips showing your usual soft smile that you saved for her.

"Neteyam is following me, come on let's hurry!" Tuk tried to rush you, but you only laughed, "Why are we hiding from your brother?" Tuk felt her cheeks puff up in annoyance, "Come on (Y/n)! I don't want him to find you!" It wasn't often Tuk would throw a childish fit with you, so you knew this must be important to her.

You quickly climbed down, taking her hand and pulling her out of sight just in time for Neteyam to come around the corner. He stopped and took a quick look around, running a hand through his braids aggravated. "Come on Tuk! Mom and Dad don't want you out here by yourself,"

Neteyam continued on through, running right past where you two hid in a flower bush before emerging a minute after he disappeared.

Tuk laughed but quickly stopped when she saw your disappointed face, "I'm sorry," she mumbled, kicking the dirt with her ears pinned down.

"Let's walk and talk," you took her by the shoulder softly, "Is there a reason you keep running away from your family? I understand you want to be friends, but surely I'm not worth worrying your family over?"

You led her down a path as Eclipse began to set in, the forest coming to life with lights and sounds. "Well, I thought you might want to be kept alone, like how you were before we became friends," Tuk answered, but you knew better, "but?" You pushed, Tuk groaning before replying.

"Well, Neteyam has his hunting parties and future clan leader responsibilities, Kiri has healing and grandma, Lo'ak and Spuder go on treks through the forest, I just wanted something that was mine for a while," while a bit childish, you could see what she meant. It was nice to have something all your own, even if it wasn't necessarily yours to keep or own.

Tuk kept her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, hands rubbing together embarrassed. Tuk thought that you would be upset with her, but she was shocked when she felt your hand rub soothing circles on her back as you continued to walk together.

"Do not feel bad, sometimes we wish for things that cannot always be, but if it makes you feel better, you will always be my first and best friend," Tuk felt giddy knowing that you felt the same as she did. You truly were a big sister to her.

"I think it's time we returned for the night," you told her, Tuk nodded, feeling a little tired. "Come," you picked her up, her arms wrapped around your neck and head rested on her shoulder.

You smelled of flowers and mist, a calming scent that soon had Tuk drift off to sleep. Which means she couldn't return to her parents on her own, meaning you had to face the leaders of the clan.

Entering the village, you took notice that many had already gone to dinner, leaving a clear path straight to the leaders tent, where you could hear inside Jake Sully, the Olo'eyktan and Neytri, his mate and Tuks mother frantically asking Neteyam where Tuk was.

You held Tuk up with one arm, softly clearing your throat to make your presence known as you lift the drape, all three coming to a freeze as they saw you, a stranger, with Tuk fast asleep in your arms.

You dipped your head in greeting, eyes over looking the two males and straight to the female who quickly walked to you with fear and concern for her baby. "She is alright, just sleeping," you whispered, not wanting to wake up Tuk as Neytiri gently slipped her from you.

Neytiri nodded a head in thanks, though her eyes held confusion. Your eyes slipped over Jake Sullys form, a small gesture of hello from another head nod before you allowed your eyes to stay trained on Neteyams shocked yellow.

'She is real,' is all Neteyam could think as you both played a stare game, you breaking it off with a soft smile before disappearing. He found the sudden ability to move, dashing to the drape only to pull it back and find you gone, like a phantom.

"I think, that's (Y/n)" Jake mumbled, his mind wracking to find any sense of familiarity of you, but found none. Neytiri felt a small rumble from Tuk, glancing down at the small girl to find her awake and giggling softly, "Told you she was real,"

~.~

Neteyam couldn't get you out of his head, now actively looking for you, but you weren't anywhere to be found. Tuk had told him all about you, and this time he listened, but she wouldn't tell him where you go.

"(Y/n) doesn't like to be sought after, you can only find her when she wants you to find her," Tuk laughed like it was the most simplest thing in the world, but it just made Neteyam frustrated.

He knew so little about you but felt a strange need to be near you, hear your soft voice again and find out more. Call it a crush, infatuation or even obsession, he just wanted to see you again, even if for a last time.

It was only when he took a stroll through the brush on a warm afternoon, that he found you. Only you were laying patch off soft moss, eye shut as you looked at piece with the world.

The world itself seemed to be happening around you, each breath you took was like a breeze from Eywa herself. Insects and small animals passed you by, as if you were just one with them.

Neteyam had approached you slowly, footsteps light as he observed your face. It was beautiful in his eyes, your soft lashes caressing your cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly with each breath you took in. Your hair seemed to flow around you in the vast green foliage.

He was too lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice you open your eyes and look back at him. Your green eyes traced his features as well, taking in the rough yet handsome face he was gifted with. He truly was his mother's child.

When he saw your green eyes staring back at him, he fell back from his squat in shock. You softly hummed, a smile so small but just for him.

"What are you looking at?" He coughed, his face feeling warm from your stare.

You sat up slowly, his eyes glancing at how your body was bending, hair falling over your cheeks to frame your face.

Eywa help his sinful thoughts.

"Oh you know," you drawled, "The clouds,"

~.~

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow imagines #avatar: the way of water #atwow fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam x drabbles

[0anonnymouslyours0]

a request!! i loved the scene where Spencer is giving a class and he finds out that ppl are auditing his class, and there’s a couple of girls who are kinda flirty with him

i would love a scene where his gf joins the class and sits in the back without Spencer noticing her at first, but then he does and idk maybe he can’t focus on the class because to him she’s sooo distracting. (preferably with smut at the end because i absolutely adore the way you write smut)

sure lovely! sorry this was like months overdue...

sex obvs +18

your slouched down in the very back, a questionably short skirt and half unbuttoned blouse on. spencers favourite. you haven't bothered to take out a notebook, or a laptop, to even pretend you might actually be here to learn. instead, your eyes watch spencer, only darting away when he looks up in your general direction. he looks good. very very good. dishevelled hair, which you know is partially from your morning activities, well structured navy suit. long fingers gripping the marker-

a cough bubbles in your throat, just as hes writing on the board and the class is silent. he turns in your direction, eyes widening when he spots you. smiling, you give him a teasing wave.

"right, err- so just copy this." hes frazzled now, gesturing at the board quickly and messing with his papers.

your phone buzzes.

"what are you doing?" you smile at the directness of it.

"just listening in."

he begins typing, but stops, looking up at you, eyes glancing up and down. clearing his throat, he puts his phone down.

"once your done taking notes, you can leave. these will be important for your exams so make sure you write this down."

students begin to scatter, and an suspiciously long line of girls form in front of his desk.

you get up, moving to his desk and skipping the line, ignoring the annoyed looks of the girls.

"so professor-" you cut the girl off, swinging around the corner of the desk and perching on his knee.

"oh. hi." he says, dazed at your sudden position.

"hi baby." you peck a kiss to his cheek, before getting up and standing behind him. eyeing the line of girls who are watching you.

"anymore questions?" he asks, distracted by your hand creeping down his chest from behind.

"no." the group grumbles, heading out the door.

it closes with a slam.

you turn spencers chair around. swinging your legs onto his lap.

"fuck." he breathes, taking in your thighs wrapped around his, and your little plaid skirt, and bra peeking out of your blouse.

"hey spence." you say, pecking kisses along his tilted neck.

"thought id come visit you."

"uh-huh." he stammers.

"but you just looked so good up there, so fucking hot." your hands unbutton his shirt, jacket already discarded on the ground.

"the door, its unlocked." he says, eyes blown at the sight of you.

you huff, climbing off his lap and quickly looking it. shedding your blouse, you walk back and sink to your knees in front of him.

"god-" he whispers, and you unzip his pants, shuffling them down.

"what did i do to deserve this?" his hands reach up to your hair, tugging it into a ponytail.

"did so good in your lesson baby, wanna treat you." you palm him through his boxers, before sliding them off.

placing a kiss on his tip, you run your tongue along his shaft, looking up at him, eyes wide. his head is tipped back, addams apple exposed and hair falling messily everywhere. such a pretty sight.

hes groaning, coming undone so quickly by the calculated movements of your tongue.

"fuck!" he gasps, as you pick up your pace, drawing his orgasm out.

"such a pretty girl on her knees for me." he says, fucked-out.

you smile raising off the ground and straddling his lap. his dick hardens underneath you.

"want you inside me baby.." you whisper, kissing his neck as you slide your panties to the side.

you tease your slit with his tip, before sinking down onto him with a groan.

it doesn't take much for you to both finish. messy and rushed kisses as you clean up and leave before his next class, promising more when he returns home..

#me randomly re-entering the fandom after ages! hi there! #oneshot #fluff #smut #female reader #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfic #professor spencer reid smut #spencer reid masterlist

[satoruhour]

geto and reader sneaking out from jujutsu high school

have good day/night ! :)

a/n: apparently geto doesn’t have a least fav food bc he consumes curses so often that he’s content to eat anything. sigh. / 1.7k ☆ / @crysugu @lvlybee @na-t0

“nah, you’re lying.” it wasn’t peculiar for geto to hang out in your room after classes (if you could even call them that with gojo usually interrupting them or him getting called out of class to complete a mission). it’d be left with the two of you, and while shoko is not opposed to participating in the (vastly different) insanity you two would usually bring, she prefers to watch from the sidelines with a burning, shortening cigarette and an amused smile.

“like i— for one, love pineapples on pizza and, cherry tomatoes, but i just hate it when they don’t choose the right ones, you know?” geto leaves you to ramble until you realise your voice is simply countered by low hums and nods, “you don’t have any food you hate, do you?” you sit up on your bed after a long time of quelling the loud beats of your heart, looking incredulously at him still lying down, long legs going past the footboard, long hair and all. it grows faster in the summer, you realise — jet black hair that flows like a blackened river right down to his nape — and you find you’ve noted it down in your head a bit too often.

the repetitive memory is paired with reminders to give him the silly star clip you found at a corner side store and plain black hair ties (you steal them sometimes, he doesn’t ask for you to return it). it all but muddles your focus, these thoughts, all because you find it terribly difficult to look away from geto suguru’s unprecedented beauty. the graceful slant of his eyebrows to his hair, right down to the stubborn strands of feelers on the left side of his face that won’t stay in his bun—

“i’m not lying; i really don’t,” the dark-haired sorcerer laughs breathlessly, and he doesn’t notice your daze or the way you jerk at his chortle. his eyes come to rest on you, looking soft and gentle, a gaze even he doesn’t give gojo, and you think he looks the prettiest when his spread out locks converge as he sits up to rest on his elbows.

but besides the warmth of these domestic scenes through rose-coloured glasses, you can make out the underlying sorrow that pools beneath the light-hearted laugh. sometimes you can feel its heaviness, weighing suguru down more than it could ever do to you, and though he’s never lets you in, you had an inkling on what exactly tears at his mind.

it’s how every curse geto exorcises ends up in him, tainting his system with the harrowing taste similar to a rag that’s used to wipe up vomit and feces. it’s how he stifles gags each time a mission is completed, swallowing the curse with scrunched up eyes and a permanent frown. it’s how he’s ingested curses so much that he would be content with any type of food.

“then… let’s go out and find what food you hate then. process of elimination,” you offer softly with a giggle, pushing his legs off your bed before getting up yourself and stretching your limbs. it was late afternoon after all, causing the room to bathe in a general laziness and orange hues to prepare for sunset. you pull on his pants, leaning over him that teases the line between love and friendship.

geto mumbles, “like… right now? don’t we have a meeting with yaga-sensei soon?” and you’re prepared to get rejected with that reason (“oh shit, i forgot—”) until he takes your hand in his and surprising you with the idea that he’d disobey authority for a stupid idea of yours. he thumbs the back of your palm like he’s done it a million times before — c’mon, he says, and then the walk out is silent, hand loosely clasped in his as he skillfully manoeuvres through the traditional architecture of jujutsu high so well you’re convinced he skips classes.

it’s like you undo the tiring climb up the foothills of mount mushiro when you’ve finished an early morning mission, feeling the tug of geto’s hand on yours. it feels like it goes on forever too, but you bask in his occasional turns to look at you to check if you were still there: as if your hand in his isn’t enough, as if you were a reverie in his eyes, as if he didn’t have the sun in palm of his hand, in all her glory in this late, blinding glow. there’s a familiar manifestation of a stingray about three quarters through, the little creature floating beneath suguru’s hand.

“won’t you get caught by the school?” you laugh, but you climb onto it anyway — there’s a small humming sound that emerges from the curse and your stroking, ghosting hand only draws more pleased exclamations from the stingray.

it’s here where he sees how his akaei reacts to your touch and voice that geto thinks maybe collecting curses isn’t so bad. it’s on days like this where he think it might be worth it if little moments like this could clear the tainted, blurry cataract that mixes up who he should be protecting in this fucked up world.

the akaei jerks you forward and you let out a little yelp, face resting just inches from suguru as you clutch onto a fin of the creature — geto swears he hears a cackle from the curse and simply clears his throat, ignoring the pounding of his heart and the way he could smell cherry lip gloss on you. he wouldn’t put it past you to get cherry tomato flavoured lip gloss, but he imagines no matter how much you liked the vegetable (fruit?), you probably wouldn’t be putting that on your lips.

“shall we go?” 

beyond the school, he realises he’s not sure where you want to take him and he dispels the curse, already thinking of the lecture he’d get but instead he’s allowing you to drag him out of the heavy foliage and into the humble shops lining the bustling town. with this, geto is able to see your person without feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest, pushing down words that he wasn’t sure you’d reciprocate whenever you turned around to point out the stores you would frequent.

and geto certainly is able to get that little piece of heaven and normalcy that he craves, letting someone he cherishes pull him through throngs of people to find his least favourite item, just because. he lets you sift through convenience stores and family businesses, eating with the unforgivable rays of the setting sun dancing through your features and his bowl of wanton noodles at the chinese shophouse that it convinces him any type of food could be his favourite as long as you’re stuffing your face with waffles or initiating a brain freeze with a 7-eleven slurpee.

and years later, geto somehow still has a bit of trouble categorising foods into ‘favourites’ and ‘non-favourites’, a sorting system that’s black and white, years later. he much rather place (almost) all of them in the grey simply because experiencing dessert and starters and main courses now with your mere presence was enough to make everything delicious against his repulsive palate.

“still thinking?” geto’s thoughts are interrupted by you as you call from across the table, a hand reaching out to hold his. 

he only nods with a languid smile, reminiscent of the mornings when that’s all he has energy for — and except maybe your teasing and lovesick voice. he’d have all the energy for that. “i’ll have what you’re having.”

you giggle, “again? okay… don’t blame me if you spit out the escargots like you did on our last date.”

geto stifles a laugh and only sends the confused waiter off with both of your menus and soon he’s pulling lightly on your hand and he makes you burst out laughing like he usually does, “what did you order again?”

the food turned out… mediocre to say the least. for such a renowned restaurant, you’d expect phenomenal tastes and combinations, except they were overrated too much by critics with only the plating to praise — but still, the night doesn’t end when the bill is hastily paid and geto buries you in his embrace.

“coat’s warm,” you smile. it’s the winter, he’s got you engulfed in his large coat as your nose crinkles at the snow brushing upon your cheek — unbeknownst to you, you wouldn’t have this reality in another universe where christmas was so near — but you would die before you let geto slip from your grasp again. you hoped it would be like this for every other time someone such a yourself crosses path with a certain dark-haired, lovely and kind person like geto suguru: in love, holding his heart in your hands, like sending out a message (“i’ve got him — have you?”) to all the you’s in every other realm.

“what do you say we finish the leftover pizza in the fridge?” his grin is blinding, something you never thought you’d see past high-school, but slowly, you’ve picked up the pieces and cleaned off its rough edges. you’ve polished them and melded them back together bit by bit. in the 55 by 63 refrigerator at your small shared dorm in your alma mater, all of geto’s pineapples were littered messily over your side of the dough, ingraining that dramaticized display of how, to geto, pineapple on pizza tasted worse than swallowing curses.

though, it was one of the favourite foods he’s developed a taste for after eating it with you a few times. sure, he at first hated the sweetness that contrasted with the saltiness of the dough, although seeing the fullness of your cheeks and how well you ate; it was simply that, that made him love it — but he’d never tell you that, not while you also loved it, because if anything meant more than his rediscovered love for food, it was your love for the same exact things that would make him order all the hawaiians in the world.

as geto’s lips meet with yours (smelling like cherry tomato lip gloss, he stands corrected!), he thinks that lecture and temporary suspension from his old teacher was worth all the days spent with you — pineapples and (right) cherry tomatoes and all.

#anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #getou fluff

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Hello! I was wondering, if you'd like, could you write a hc for Toshiro, Shinji and Shunsui (and if you'd like to add any other characters), dealing with a fem!reader who just won't confess her love, even though it's very obvious? It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer. I would love to see what you come up with! Thank you very much in advance! 💗

Bleach Men and Shy Reader

Hello! Sorry it took me a while to get to this! I'm always struggling to keep characterization accurate which is why this took forever. I love this request btw. So I just didn't get a HC feel for this because I felt like half the fun was in the dialogue of getting reader to confess. So I wrote scenarios instead. Hope you don't mind! ^_^' All fluff, slightly suggestive at places but mostly harmless.

icons by @/pfpanimes and @/xoxomyseriesxoxo

Toshiro (aged up)

"Y/n, I think we're good. We got all the information we need."

Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he takes in their surroundings one last time. Their surveying mission had gone well and he was hoping to get back to Soul Society before the sun sets.

"Y/n...?"

He looks around, then his face turns into a look of exasperation as he sees you petting Hyorinmaru like a puppy. Even Hyorinamru seemed to be enjoying the attention, eyes closed, making a loud rumbling noise which he supposed could be comparable to a cat purring.

You were some distance away so he starts to walk over to you as you press your forehead against the large ice dragon's face. It was perplexing why Hyorinmaru behaved the way he did around you, but of course, zanpakuto were mainifestations of their owners. Hitsugaya's face relaxed slighty and took on a softer expression as you continued to play with Hyorinmaru. He was also uncomfortably aware of the way his heart beat a little faster when you were around. Perhaps that's why his zanpakuto behaved similarly.

You were cooing at the large blue dragon. "You're such a good boy. The best ice dwagon...yes..."

You press a kiss to Hyorinmaru's face. Softly, you then say, "I wonder if Hitsugaya taicho feels it when I kiss you..."

Hitsugaya freezes, wondering if he should say something. He didn't feel it, but wouldn't it be wondrous if he could?

"Y/n," he calls out, making you jump. Your face turns red, and you quickly try to compose yourself.

"Hitsugaya taicho! I apologize, I didn't hear you. Are we done with our mission?"

"Yes...I believe we are." He hesitates before saying, "What were you telling Hyorinmaru before?"

You feel your heart racing and try to brush off his question. "It's nothing! I was just being silly. He's a very sweet dragon."

"Yes, I suppose he can be..."

A moment of awkward silence passes between you both before you say, "We'd better get back to Soul Society huh?" Trying to pass over your awkward exchange, you slip past Hitsugaya and start walking back. Hyorinmaru vanishes a minute later as Hitsugaya follows you.

After a few minutes, Hitsugaya quietly says, "I can't feel it."

Your heart skips a beat. Surely you must have heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I can't feel it when you kiss Hyorinmaru."

A jolt of electricty runs through you. Had he heard that?! "Oh, well good. That would have been weird."

"Yeah I guess so...but...would it be a bad thing?"

"Would what be a bad thing?"

"If I could feel it."

You feel like your heart may leap out of your chest. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. "Well you can't so...I guess we'll never know!"

"I mean you could just tell me."

Your words catch in your throat. When you talk again, they come out shaky. "Tell you what?"

"If it's good or bad."

A very palpable, tense, moment lingers between both of you. All that can be heard is the rustling of your robes and your footsteps as the both of you continue to walk.

"I guess...it wouldn't be...too bad, right?" You offer.

"No, I don't think it would be." Hitsugaya looks directly at you. "Those words weren't meant for Hyorinmaru to hear excusively were they?"

You look away. "Well I wasn't saying it out loud intentionally if that's what you mean."

"What's the worst that could've happened? If you had said those words to me?"

"You may have gotten the wrong impression of me..."

"Wrong impression? So you don't like me?"

Well you had kind stepped right into that question. "I...I..."

Why was it so hard to admit your feelings? Your eyes squeeze shut.

"Hey, y/n. It's ok." Hitsugaya pats your shoulder reassuringly. "How about this? I'll bring out Hyorinmaru. You can tell him whatever you want. If that makes it easier."

You look at him with gratitude in your eyes. You knew you weren't getting out of this one until Hitsugaya had a satisfactory answer.

With a small swish of reiatsu, Hyorinmaru appears in front of you. You look into the striking blue eyes of the dragon, so similar to its owner, and take its face between your hands.

"Hey Hyorinmaru," you say softly. "So, I just wanted to say. I think I like someone, and he knows it. But...I'm scared to admit my feelings because...deep down...I feel like he's worthy of someone more talented and special. So if you have an answer to this, please let me know."

Warm hands wrap around your waist and to your surprise, Hitsugaya pulls you against him, resting his cheek on the back of your head.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

You take a deep breath, cheeks pink as a peach.

"Yeah. More than enough."

Shinji

You and Shinji trudged back to his quarters after a particularly tiring mission. It wasn't uncommon for you recuperate in his quarters because his place was simply the closest to the gate when getting back into the Seiretei. And after a long gruelling mission, questions about appropriateness get tossed out the window.

Your muscles ache and you feel your reiatsu pulse as you force yourself to walk. The comforting feeling of the courtyards near Shinji's quarters fill your senses.

"Not too far along now y/n. You can shower first this time."

You look at Shinji side eyed, remembering how the last time he'd hidden the soap when you had made a dash to the bathroom to shower first.

Clearly he was remembering it too because he smirks at you and says, "How about next time, you bring your own soap, you freeloader?"

"I'm a rookie shinigami, taicho. I hardly make enough to afford luxuries like soap." You respond sarcastically.

"You just wanna use mine because you like the way I smell. Admit it. You get off on having my scent on your skin." Shinji says teasingly, giving you a shit-eating grin.

The color rises in your face and you look away. It was true but you couldn't admit that. Instead you say, "As if. Like I enjoy smelling like your cheap deodarant."

"And how would you know my deodarant smells cheap? Have you been going through my toiletries y/n? Like some kind of pervert?" Shinji nudges you playfully.

"Why I might have to start hiding my boxers, in case I find you in my room sniffing around at night."

"Eeewww," you say, wrinkling your nose. You start to walk faster so that you're ahead of him, not wanting him to see how fantastically red your face is getting.

Chuckling, Shinji sprints after you, grabbing the back of your shihakusho, and bringing you to his side, arm draping possessively around your shoulders so that you can't move.

"Taicho," you say through gritted teeth. "What would happen if someone sees us this way? It's very unbecoming of a captain."

"Strange, I don't seem to recall you saying that whenever you crash at my place after a mission." Shinji stops walking and turns so that he's facing you, blocking your way, a hand on each of your shoulders.

You can't look at him now, and drop your gaze. "That's...different. I sleep in your spare bedroom. We both know that and would say the same. But this kind of behavior...out here in the open...someone might mistake us..."

"Mistake us how exactly?" Shinji presses, not relenting at the fact that you're barely able to keep your head up now. "Mistake us as...lovers?"

He drawls the last word and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart races and you can't seem to think of a comeback. He was so close to you and his hands were holding on tight.

"N-no," you stammer, trying to keep calm.

"No? What else could they mistake us for that's gotten you so red?" Shinji takes a step closer to you and grasps your chin, lifting you face up to look at his. Helpless, you look into his brown eyes which are looking at yours with amusement.

When you fail to reply, he continues. "There's plenty of reasons they could mistake us for lovers, y/n. I mean, we cuddle on the couch."

"That's because-"

"We've eaten together so many times I've lost count." He barrels over your objection. "Your toothbrush is in a cup on my bathroom counter. Do I need to keep giving you more examples about how unconventional our relationship is? It definitely isn't a captain-subordinate one anymore."

Caught, you try to jerk your face out of his grip which only tightens. "Well, doll? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're living with me, but you seem to be trying to convince yourself otherwise."

"I-that's-" you sputter, trying to retort. "How about the fact that we don't feel that way about each other? Doesn't that count for anything?" you say desperately, hoping for a final chance to keep your heart from getting hurt.

Shinji's expression changes from amusement to thoughfulness. "Don't feel that way about each other...hmm...so...why am I teasing you this way? Why do I allow you to cuddle up to me when we're watching TV? Why am I here, forcing you to look at me, and making my intentions known if I don't feel that way about you?"

Your heart skips a beat and you quit struggling. He couldn't possibly...?

"And why are you blushing so much when I say all this? Why haven't you stopped looking at my lips this whole time?" His voice becomes a soft timbre and his hands drop from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so resistant to what you're feeling towards me?"

Your chest swells with emotion as his words wash over you. For the longest time, you'd hidden your feelings, hoping he wouldn't notice. Because how embarrssing and cliche? A subordinate falling for her captain?

"I...may...like you as more...than my captain..." You admit grudgingly.

"There we go. Now was that so hard?" Shinji rests his thumbs on your cheeks, stroking gently. "For the record, I'm not playing around. I'm serious."

You peek up at him. "Promise?"

"Well...I'm not a fan of making promises I can't keep- OUCH!" Shinji lets out a yelp of pain as you shove him hard in the ribs before scurrying off towards his quarters.

Humbled, he quickly chases after you. "Y/n! I am dead serious! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"

When he hears you laughing, his eyes narrow.

"Very well then doll...I suppose I'll have to torture the confession out of you while hiding the soap again...maybe this time after you've gotten in the shower..."

Shunsui

Your eyes roam over the voluptous shinigami talking to Shunsui. He certainly seems to have a type. You sigh and try to focus on your own work. Being an aide to Shunsui has been insightful in terms of getting experience but also an eye-opening period where you would see how many women seem to sidle up to him for attention.

Shunsui chuckles at the woman before she saunters out, hips swaying. He fixes his hat and stretches, the neck of his shihakusho slipping down to reveal his toned pecs.

Such a slut you think to yourself as you try to finish your paperwork. Although, truth be told, you weren't sure if that was entirely true. Women went up to him all the time, sure. How many of those women made it back to his quarters was another question entirely. Not as many as people thought, according to Nanao.

Shunsui glances over at you, a cheeky smile widening over his face. "Enjoying the view?" he teases, as you suddenly flush, realizing you'd been staring shamelessly at his chest for the past minute.

"N-no," you stammer. "Just wondering how brazen you must be to have your shihakusho practically untied while in the office."

"Not as brazen as my subordinate who's been visually feeling me up," he shoots back with a wink.

You quickly look back to your paperwork. Was it your fault he was an attractive looking man for his age? You heart thuds in your chest and you take a deep breath to calm down. This does not go unnoticed by Kyoraku who puts his face on his palm, leaning on his desk looking at you.

"Let's get a drink tonight."

Surely you misheard him. "...What?"

"I know you heard me y/n." He chuckles, a rich, low, rumble emanating from his throat. "And based on what I've seen, I think you've imagined more than having a drink with me."

Your throat goes dry. "You got that...from a one-off look?" Your words come out like a croak.

"Well darling, you've been making eyes at me all evening. Thought I'd save you the trouble." He gets up from the desk and wanders over towards you.

Your brain goes into panic mode. "I-I can't. Busy today."

"Ah hm...I see." Shunsui says in that lazy way, getting closer to you. "Busy. So very busy. Tell me. What plans do you have tonight that you're too busy to get a drink with your captain?"

Your mind blanks out at his question. Seeing the look of disarray on your face, Shunsui offers you a sympathetic pat. "I can give you a minute if you need to come up with an excuse. Maybe pretend to watch the birds outside?"

Your cheeks burn at his suggestion. "Unnecessary. Clearly I don't have one. Apart from I don't want to."

"Now why's that? I like you, and you seem to return the feeling. I've been around long enough to know when a woman is interested in me. So what's the problem?"

"I'm your subordinate. And with your reputation I don't wish to be another statistic in your book."

"Statistic?" Shunsui looks at you with sharp eyes. "Darling, how many women do you think I've been with?"

"I don't know. 2000 years is a long time."

He looks stunned at your words then sighs deeply. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not thinking of making you a 'statistic'. I actually like you."

Your heart races. "Say that again."

"I like you. I'm not too proud to hide how I feel. Now how about you stop insulting me and admit you like me too?"

You take a deep breath. "I'll have a drink with you."

"Well that's a start I suppose."

"And tie up your damn shihakusho."

"And miss the chance to have you stare at me all night?" Shunsui's eyes glitter with mischief. "I think not."

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach scenarios #toshiro hitsugaya #shinji hirako #shunsui kyroraku #bleach hitsugaya #bleach toshiro #bleach shinji #bleach shunsui #bleach kyoraku #hitsugaya toshiro x reader #toshiro x reader #aged up hitsugaya #shinji x reader #shinji x fem reader #shinji hirako x reader #shunsui kyoraku #shunsui x reader #ask box #ask box open #answered asks #vee answers #ask box requests

[syllvane]

soldier, poet, king - tolya yul-bataar x reader

a/n: reader is sister of nikolai, feminine pronouns are used but no physical characteristics are ever described. ty for all of the love <3

Your brother would fire him if he found out that you had even considered Tolya in a romantic way. Not out of any disdain for him- out of anyone you could have grown fondness for, you were sure that Nikolai would prefer Tolya over the numerous suitors that waited for you back at Os Alta, but out of a protectiveness of you, as if you weren't perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

“What are you thinking about?” Tamar asked, leaning against the wooden side of the ship, bright eyes looking at you.

”Nothing.”

“You know I can tell when you're lying.”

”When has that ever stopped me?”

Tamar scoffed, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

“Never,” She said, her eyes shining. “I don't know why I even ask, your heart only beats like that when you're thinking about my brother.”

Your heart jumped and Tamar let out another breathy laugh, feeling it without any effort.

“Too easy.” She said smugly and you rolled your eyes.

“Not funny.”

“Speak for yourself, moya tsarevna.” She said and you cringed at the title.

“As soon as Nik becomes king, I’m banning you from using that title.”

“Not Tolya though?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and gave her a look.

“I’m going to push you off this boat.”

A firm arm went around your shoulders, startling you and from the other side of you, Tolya grinned down at you.

“Now you know I love you, but why are you threatening to throw my sister off the boat?” He asked jokingly and you prayed to every Saint that your heart wasn’t going as fast as you felt it was.

You looked at Tamar and instantly regretted it, barely contained laughter on her lips.

“As first mate, I demand it.” You said stoically in response, a small smile on your lips and Tolya raised his eyebrows, removing his arm from your shoulder.

“Well, we should at least run it by Sturmhond.” 

“Oh who are we kidding, he’d choose you over me everyday.” You joked, able to relax more now that you weren’t in direct contact with Tolya.

“I’ll choose you then.” Tolya said and your smile softened at the sweetness of the sentiment.

“Spoken like a poet.” Tamar teased and Tolya scoffed, but beamed at the accusation.

“Do you think you would be happy, living a life like the one Nikolai and I had?”

“Back in the castle?” Tolya asked and you nodded. “I mean, I know you’re both going to go back eventually. Me and Tamar will be there as your guards.”

“Not as guards though, as… forget it, I’m just being silly.”

Tolya looked at you, studied for you for a moment with only the moonlight illuminating your features, peering off into seemingly endless sea.

“It’s not silly.” He said, moving so that he was ever so slightly closer to you. “I’ve never really thought about it before. Do you think I’d make a good noble?”

“No,” You answered quickly. “You’re too kindhearted. You’re too good.”

“So are you.” Tolya argued and you smiled.

“And I’m hardly the picture of good noble, I ran off with my older brother to play pirate- sorry privateer.”  You said. “I’ve always been a better soldier than princess, much to my mother’s dismay. I used to sneak off and follow Nikolai to his basic training instead of go to etiquette classes.”

Tolya snorted and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

“I’m glad you skipped your etiquette classes, I like you how you are.”

Your heart jumped. Tolya looked over at you but didn’t say anything.

“Why do you ask? About me being a noble?” He pressed and you shook your head.

“As much as maybe me and Nik want it to, this can’t last forever. We have to go home at some point, him to try to take the throne that Vasily has never wanted, and me to sit around as set dressing, I suppose. To get married. I just… it really is silly, Tolya.” You said, standing up and preparing to walk away before he stood up and quickly caught your wrist, making you look at him.

“Tell me.” He said softly, letting go of your wrist. “Please.”

You took a step closer to him before grabbing his hand and putting it on the cloth covering your heart.

“Do you really not know?” You took a deep breath, painfully aware of how fast your heart was racing. “I’m not asking for marriage or anything like that, I’m asking… I don’t know what I’m asking.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved to your shoulders and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours gently. He pulled away, his hands still on you.

“As long as you will have me, I will be here.” 

#tolya yul bataar x reader #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #tolya yul-bataar x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #tolya and tamar #nikolai lantsov

[staar5384]

champange problems

neuvillette x gn!reader

hurt/no comfort, they/them pronouns, light cursing

this is slightly based off of the song champagne problems by taylor swift🫶🏼

might consider a pt. 2 if people are interested:)

The Opera Epiclese was beautifully decorated from top to bottom. Assortments of Rainbow Roses adorned the hallways, Lumidose Bells hung like vines from the pillars. Stunning satin and silk tapestries dressed the walls in different shades of blue and purple.

Everyone there could tell something was going to happen, though no one knew what. 

When the people of Fontaine received their invitations to the event, it did not state the reasoning for it. It was presented as a formal ball. People were expected to dress and act appropriately, and it was not a place for children.

As the guests arrived, they could see Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon Furina were sitting in the front row of the courthouse. They were chatting, glancing out at the crowd periodically, as if looking for someone.

Then you walked in. 

Neuvillette arose from his seat and walked down to greet you. You smiled at your boyfriend, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” He said, grasping your hand as he brought you toward the seats he and Furina were sat in.

“I’m glad I could make it too! Everything here looks absolutely gorgeous,” You replied, following him.

Furina greeted you with a smile and a wave before moving from her seat to somewhere backstage.

“So what is this grand party for, hmm?”.

“Oh you’ll see soon enough my love,” He kissed your hand. “Just enjoy the atmosphere and the music. The Melusines should come around soon with refreshments, and the band is about to play.”

You nodded, leaning back into your chair and taking a deep breath. It was nice to have a moment to relax and enjoy yourself. You very rarely got that anymore thanks to your constant traveling, but the work was so fulfilling.

Just as Neuvillette said, the Melusines came out carrying trays of various drinks. One of them stopped in front of you two, two glasses of sparkling champagne was presented. “Just as you requested, Monsieur!” She said excitedly.

Neuvillette grabbed both the glasses, handing one over to you, “Thank you very much,” He smiled as she skipped away.

“This is different from the other drinks,” You gave him a smirk. “Was this requested specifically for me?” You had always been a fan of champagne, more than wine which tended to be the people’s preferred drink of choice.

“How could we throw a party without having everything my beautiful partner desires?” He kissed your temple with a gentle smile on his face.

You returned his smile and sipped the drink, “You also opted for champagne I see.”

“Ahh, I figured I could try to enjoy your favorite drink for a change.”

Neuvillette had never cared for champagne, he made that abundantly clear when you two began dating, but when he saw your face light up at the thought of him sharing your drink of choice, he knew it would all be worth it.

The two of you chatted for a while, catching up on how things have been on both your ends. You had recently returned from a trip to Inazuma, a country you had longed to visit for a while. You were given a commission there, and left about a month ago. You had only returned the day prior.

Neuvillette recounted many trials to you, one in particular standing out. He talked about Fatui Harbinger, Childe, a man you had met once before in Liyue when you were there for the Rite of Descension.

“Ahh I know Childe,” You commented. “We crossed paths briefly a few months ago. He almost sank the entirety of Liyue Harbor.”

“Oh?” Neuvillette raised his brow. “And how have I not heard about this?”

You giggled, “I forgot to be honest. It was so insignificant for me at the time. I left the Harbor only a few hours before to visit some of the ruins. Who would have thought that someone would try to wipe out the nation’s biggest city?”

Neuvillette chuckled, his eyes sparkling, “You tell me the most fascinating stories. I hope someday I can give you a memory as fun and beautiful as the ones you make.” 

You felt your face heat up, “You’re such a flirt, Neuvillette.”

“Only for you darling.”

The band on stage began their show, the audience around them silencing. You glanced over and realized Furina had not returned to her seat.

Neuvillette placed his glass aside and rose from his seat. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, “Excuse me a moment.”

“But the music just started. You’ll miss it.”

“No worries dear, I’ll be back,” He took his leave, walking out the back doors.

You sighed, focusing your attention on the orchestral display in front of you. Just as you expected, the music was beautiful, as was everything else in the Opera Epliclese. If only you knew what the true reasoning behind this was.

Moments passed and both Neuvillette and Furina had yet to return. You contemplated searching for them both, but stopped when Furina walked up on stage.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen! It is quite the honor to be here tonight as we have such a lovely occasion to be celebrating!”

Whispers and murmurs flooded over the crowd. What could they possibly be trying to celebrate?

“Now, I know you all must be very confused. ‘Oh great Hydro Archon Focalors.’” You rolled your eyes. “What could we possibly be celebrating!’ I can hear your gears turning, and I can promise you this is an occasion none shall forget!”

From stage left, Neuvillette walked on. He almost looked nervous as he approached the front of the stage. Furina handed him the microphone and winked before hopping off to the side.

“Umm,” He spoke softly. “This isn’t really quite my thing, speaking about emotions and feelings and such, especially in front of a crowded room like this, but I believe this is something that should be shared,” His throat bobbed, his eyes flicking across the audience. “Emotions are not, and never have been, my strong suit. They are complicated, hard to understand, and feeling them is confusing,” He said. “But there is one person who has made these emotions less confusing. When I am around them, I don’t need to try to understand what I’m feeling.”

You knew instantly he was talking about you. The two of you had discussed his inability to comprehend human emotions a few times. You had helped him understand his initial feelings towards you, helped him learn to accept his love and care for you. All of these things he has accomplished was through your help, so he says.

His eyes locked with yours, and he gestured for you to join him on the stage. Hesitantly, you stood and made your way to him. The spotlight was bright and hot, making you sweat almost instantly.

Neuvillette took your hand in his, “I can’t think of anyone I would rather spend my life with.”

Your eyes widened. He was going to propose

He got down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet blue box. He opened it, and the ring inside was stunning. A sparkling blue crystal with a silver band. “My love, will you marry me?”

All eyes were on you at that moment as the audience eagerly awaited your response. You were at a loss for words. You loved Neuvillette, you truly did, but marriage? The thought had never crossed your mind, nor were you even truly ready to get married. You had so many more adventures to go on, so much more to see and do. Marriage would only tie you down and prevent you from experiencing those things. 

Your heart throbbed, an ache filling you that you had never felt before. You stepped away from him, shaking your head with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry, Neuvillette,” You watched his face drop. “But I can’t accept,” As you finished the sentence you rushed off of the stage and out of the room.

Neuvillette watched you leave, the ring box slipping from his hand, and landing onto the stage with a thud. The crowd began to whisper, a mix of emotion swirling throughout the room.

Furina, despite her love for the drama, immediately jumped in at seeing the distress on Neuvillette’s face, “Alright everyone, I believe that is all for this evening. Feel free to get some refreshments outside! Guards, if you could escort our guests out.”

One by one, each person began to leave until the only people inside were Furina and Neuvillette.

She glanced down at him, he hadn’t moved a single inch. His eyes were glued to the floor as he replayed the event in his head, over and over again. You said no.

“Neuvillette?” Furina approached him, gently tapping his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He snapped out of his trance, picking his head up, “I- I do not know.”

“Well, why don’t we get you back home, yeah?”

The two left in silence, Furina remaining close beside him. People watched the two leave the Opera Epiclese and they wouldn’t stop talking. This news would spread like wildfire, Neuvillette would become the talk of Fontaine.

Outside it was downpouring. The rain was the worst it had been in a very long time. Furina knew why. 

“Even the weather is matching the mood,” Someone said from afar, noticing the Archon and Chief Justice.

“What a shame,” Another person spoke. “Losing out on a good lover such as the Monsieur.”

“They even rejected him in front of a crowd. The embarrassment he must feel… How cruel.”

“I do hope he finds someone better. He deserves someone less… fucked in the head.”

Each voice he heard was a nasty reminder, each word spoken made his heart twist and ache in an uncomfortable way. He tried to drown it out, but it was almost impossible.

“Thank you, Lady Furina,” He pulled away from her. “But I think I’ll go alone.”

“A-Are you sure?” She was hesitant to leave him alone in such a state.

“Quite sure. I’ll see you soon,” He left without another word.

Neuvillette decided to spend the rest of his evening alone, sulking in his hurt, wondering if maybe he could have done something to make you stay.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette angst #neuvillette genshin #hurt/no comfort #angst #genshin impact angst #genshin angst

[jenwritesstuff]

Jealousy

Summary: You and Noah have been going out for more than a year and he’s possessive, but not jealous. You want to see how much he can take before actually getting jealous. Be careful what you wish for.

(P.S there's smut)

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“Is it normal that my boyfriend just never gets jealous?” You ask as you mindlessly sip on your coffee.

Your friends, Ellie and Olivia looked at each other, both wondering what the hell you’re on about this time.

“Just because he doesn’t get jealous doesn’t mean he loves you less. Maybe he’s just secure in the relationship and he trusts you. That’s pretty reassuring if you ask me.” Olivia decided to speak up when she saw you chewing onto your straw.

“Yeah… but he got jealous around his exes. I just want to know what it’s like to see him jealous. It could be so hot. Or cute. Or both.” You decided to imagine a scenario where you make your boyfriend, Noah jealous.

He could be the rough type; tearing you away from whoever was trying to get too close to you. Or he could be the pouty type; he’ll sulk and ask if you prefer the attention from another man apart from his.

Alas, you were about to find out that night that it was definitely not the latter.

And of course, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Later that same night, you guys were headed to a housewarming party of a mutual friend. Most of them were band members and you were familiar since you’ve been on tour with Noah for the past year. You were heavily involved in some of the events that they’ve played at considering it was part of your job so you were always around one another. It didn’t cross your mind that your ex might be there. Your ex, who happened to be in another band, was also invited to said housewarming party.

As both you and Noah were making the way to the venue, you heard him talk for the first time in hours. You brushed it off as him being stressed out with work because he tends to do that. He tends to shut off from the world when he’s too immersed in his work.

“Do you think he’ll be there?” he asks.

“Who?”

“Tim.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a bit. Finally, you decided to break the silence because it was a stupid question to be pondering so long about.

“Yeah, he might. I don’t know exactly who’s gonna be there.”

“Right. Of course you wouldn’t know.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Noah had said it with so much sass it caught you off guard. It offended you nonetheless.

“Nothing.” He mumbled in response.

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window as he continued driving.

Wait.

Is he… jealous?

You turned your head so quick you could’ve strained it but you looked at him with gleaming eyes. He gave you the side eye because he had to focus on the road but he quirked an eyebrow and asked, “What?”

“Are you jealous?” you asked, almost too excited.

“Why would I be?” He replied, trying to remain cool.

“Because you think Tim might be there. Are you jealous?” You couldn’t contain your smile.

“No, of course not. Don’t get any weird ideas. I was simply asking.” He said as he parked the car.

He turned to look at you and grabbed your face so that your faces were inches apart.

“No funny business. No playing, no tricks, understand baby?”

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded your head because you love this side of Noah; all dominant and in control.

Unfortunately for him, you were a brat. Of course you are.

You practically skipped towards the house before ringing the doorbell, gift in hand.

When the doors opened, you could already see a crowd inside. You hugged your friend and congratulated them on their new home. As you walked in, you beelined straight to the food table. Noah was busy looking for his friends to catch up with and you were hungry and couldn’t think of anything else. That’s when you came face to face with none other than your ex of 5 years, Tim.

“Hey.” He looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey there.” You answered and there was a heavy beat of awkwardness hanging in the air.

It has been over 3 years since the breakup but you’ve never actively looked him up or tried to remain in contact. It was a clean, mutual break up but getting over someone you’ve been in love with for 5 years was still tough.

“So… samosa dipped in mayo? Some things just don’t change.” He looked over at your plate and chuckled.

“Hey, good food is good food. Don’t yuck my yum.” You said and picked up more samosas which earned another low chuckle.

Tim was following behind you, taking more food as you guys walked down the buffet line. When you were done, you found a corner with a few chairs and sat down to eat. You didn’t realize that Tim had followed you and sat down next to you.

“Soooooo how’ve you been?” He asks as you looked up at him with a mouth full of food.

You chewed and swallowed before answering, “Everything’s going great so far. How about you?”

“I’m good. I moved into a new home myself. How’s you and Noah?”

“We’re good as always. Been busy with tour stuff and work lately but other than that, everything has been great.” You scanned the room to find your tall lanky boyfriend only to find him sitting at the living room, talking to his friends but his eyes were dead set on you.

You smiled and turned your full attention to the man beside you.

You made some small talk and laughed at some of the not so funny jokes he cracked. This went on for only half an hour before you felt a tall presence right in front of you. You looked up and smiled at the love of your life who seems to be smiling too but you knew otherwise.

“Having a great chat?” He asks.

“Yeah! We were just catching up on life. How’s your friends?” you asked, as if you didn’t know what was going on.

Tim stood up, “Well, looks like things are going well. Let’s catch up again sometime. See you guys around.”

He smiled at both you and Noah before walking away. You watched as Noah gave one of the most forced smile to ever exist. Noah slowly turned his head to look down at you, who was sitting and trying to get another bite of your food when you realized he was actually pissed.

“What was so funny that you didn’t notice me walking over?” He asked, still looking down at you.

“Nothing. We were talking about Lucy, his family’s dog. She’s still as sassy as ever. I miss her.”

You knew what you were doing. You wanted to see how much he could take. Jealousy looked pretty hot on him if you were being honest.

“You miss her? So are you going to visit her? Visit his family? Laugh like the good ol’ days?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. You set aside your food and stood up in front of him, chests touching.

“And what if I do?”

He smirked and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer than humanely possible.

“Then I’ll make it so that you won’t be able to even walk.”

You felt shivers down your spine as he pulled you out of the room to go upstairs. Well the both of you were planning on staying over in case Noah had one drink too many but not even an hour into the party and he was already dragging you into one of the guest bedrooms. The moment the door closed behind the both of you, you found yourself pinned against the door.

Noah had placed his thigh right between your legs as he grabbed your face to look at him.

“You like pissing me off?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied, feigning ignorance.

“You knew what you were doing baby. Do you miss him?”

As he asked his other hand was working its way up from your hips to your waist, stopping right below your breast.

“Of course I don’t baby. It’s been years. And I have you.” You shamelessly tried to shift your lower half to grind against his thigh.

He glanced downwards and looked at you with a smirk.

“What a slut. You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” his hand shifted from your face to your neck, grabbing it and jerking you forward.

His mouth was already on yours before you even got the chance to answer.

“You shouldn’t have done that baby.”

Shivers ran down your spine before he pinched your already hard peaks through your dress. You jerked at the pain that was mixed with pleasure, grabbing onto his shoulders and grinding your already soaking cunt against his thigh.

You weren’t given a chance to form a coherent sentence before he dipped a hand between your legs.

“You’re soaking wet baby. Just the way I like it.” He whispered into your ear before reaching for your neck and biting.

You let out a yelp and started melting into his touch. His lips met yours before he bit down on your bottom lip.

“I want him to hear your screams.”

Your hips bucked as you felt his thumb on your already swollen clit.

“Let him know who you belong to baby. Scream my fucking name.”

You moaned as he drove two of his long fingers into your cunt.

“You’re mine. You’ve come on my face and hand. You’re always on my mind. You drive me fucking insane most days.”

You couldn’t comprehend anything that was happening before he carried you onto the bed before throwing you on it. Right before you could look up he had already slammed himself into you. You cried out his name. You didn’t realize how wet you were because Noah slid into you with no resistance. The sensation was so sudden you clenched around him without thinking.

“Relax baby. You can take me.” He hissed and didn’t move until you could acclimate to his size.

Once your whimpers of discomfort faded, he grabbed onto your hips with force you knew you would bruise the next morning. You felt Noah pull out and flipped you so that you were on your knees. He rammed into you again, making you cry out. You felt him much deeper in this position and your knees almost bucked if he didn’t hold you up. He thrusted into you ruthlessly and grabbed onto your ass and gave it occasional smacks that would leave red handprints.

Your eyes had rolled back and you were starting to forget your name before he grabbed your neck so that you were up right against his chest.

“Do you enjoy making me jealous baby?”

“I- I’m sorry!” You screamed as one of his hands reached out for your clit and started rubbing.

You were so close to coming it was driving you insane. You felt your orgasm build up as you let out a strangled scream. Your legs were shaking and eyes were rolling back but you couldn’t fall because he was holding you up by your neck.

“Look at me.” He commanded as you opened your eyes to look at him.

He placed his hand in front of your face.

“Look at the mess you’ve made. Open your mouth.”

You obliged and opened your mouth before he stuck his fingers that were coated with your juices into your mouth. You were supposed to feel disgusted but you were so turned on you started sucking on his fingers like an animal starved.

His grip on your neck tightened before his teeth scored marks on your shoulder. He pushed your head down onto the mattress before fucking you with so much intensity you knew he meant it when he told you you wouldn't be able to walk the next day.

Nothing you said made sense and you were a moaning mess. You didn’t care if anyone below could hear your cries and moans anymore. If anything, that turned you on even more.

“You like this? Me destroying this pretty little cunt of yours while you make a mess of my cock?”

You couldn’t respond with anything other than a strangled noise.

“I’m the only one who can make you like this. Remember that.” He said as he grabbed both your arms and started thrusting erratically.

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Don’t spill a single drop baby.”

He pulled out before flipping you over so you were laying on your back. You watched as he stroked himself a little more before forcing his whole cock into your mouth. You gagged at the sudden intrusion but relaxed as you felt his hot cum shoot down your throat. He was moaning and thrusting a little as he came inside your mouth. He sighed as he looked down at you and stroked your hollowed cheeks.

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth like this.” He said as he pulled out.

He held you there and tapped your cheek.

“Show me your mouth.”

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out showing him that you swallowed every single drop of his bitter cum.

“That’s my good girl. Now, do you want to make me jealous again?”

You smiled up at Noah sweetly.

“Maybe?”

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A/N: I don't know how this works. Didn't proofread either. Anyways, hope you enjoyed. (I'm rusty)

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader

[angelicyoongie]

Abundance (XX)

— summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don't get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement. — pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst — warnings/content: none — word count: 6.5k

Masterlist / Previous chapter / Next chapter

Early access to chapter 21 can be found in the author’s note at the end!

You fix the last button on your blouse in place as you walk downstairs, feet bouncing with a little more pep than usual.

Even if you’re waking up before the sun and have hours of gruelling work ahead of you, spending the weekend with the boys has left you feeling refreshed. It was a much needed break to help restore your dwindling morale and a good reminder of why you put yourself through this in the first place.

Skipping over the last step of the staircase, you turn to head towards the kitchen, more than ready to kickstart your brain with the help of a cup of coffee.

You startle, almost tripping over your own feet, when the downstairs bathroom door flies open just as you’re about to walk past it.

A dripping Namjoon steps into your path, his naked chest and arms on full display, droplets clinging to his sunkissed skin. He has a towel draped over his head, obstructing his vision as he roughly tries to dry up the back of his head.

You watch, mouth dry, as the motion causes one of the droplets to slide from his collarbone down over the smooth expanse of his torso, only stopping when it hits the sweatpants hung low on his hips.

You zero in on the subtle definition of muscles on his stomach, on the way it seems to guide your eyes right to the soft trail of hair leading down to places your mind really shouldn’t stray so early in the morning.

Feeling the heat beginning to creep up your cheeks, you quickly avert your eyes. You know that no one in this house, especially Hoseok, will let you live it down if Namjoon catches you drooling over a bit of exposed skin.

Namjoon must’ve been too distracted with his own thoughts to notice you right away because he suddenly pauses, hand frozen on his head as he detects another presence in the hallway.

You can see his chest expand as he breathes in, his wolf ears immediately popping up under the towel in excitement as he registers your sweet scent. He carelessly yanks the cloth away, silver hair sticking up in every direction as he flashes you a dimpled grin.

"Good morning, Y/n!"

"Morning," You grin back.

The wolf hybrid makes a questioning sound when you step back as he tries to come closer, arms outstretched as if he was going to collect you in a hug.

Shaking your head, you try not to look too long at his glistening chest or his drooping ears as you explain, "I don’t have time to change my clothes again, Joon. You’re still dripping wet."

"Oh, right," Namjoon pouts, patting his chest, "I prefer to let everything air dry."

The thought of letting your body dry on its own in the frigid morning air is enough to make you shudder, even if you try to keep the house as toasty and warm as possible in the colder months.

"Don’t you get cold?" You grimace.

"Not really?" Namjoon thinks a bit before he shrugs, his tail flicking with the motion, "In nature we have no option but to let the air and sun dry us out. Most hybrids tend to run a little warmer than humans anyway, so it’s usually not a problem."

"I guess that makes sense," You agree, remembering how thinly dressed all of the boys were compared to you when you were working in the garden. You had been bundled up with your thickest sweater and coat, not willing to risk getting sick again just because the sun provided a bit of false security with its warmth.

"Though–" You spare the dark sky at the end of the hallway a glance, mindful to keep your voice low with the other boys still sleeping, "why are you taking a shower so early? The sun isn’t even up yet."

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, his grey ears twisting back into his messy hair as he mumbles, "I just went out for an early run."

"A run?"

"Yeah, just around the neighbourhood. Spring, um, always makes me a little restless? Y’know, wolf instincts,” Namjoon winces at his poor lie, cheeks flushing as he turns his gaze to the floor.

Everything about his posture screams at you to please leave the subject alone. Even if you can tell he isn’t being completely honest, even if he’s holding something back, you have no reason not to trust him.

Namjoon has proven himself to always put his pack above everything else and you know he would never do anything that would endanger them or put your relationship in jeopardy. Above all else Namjoon cares – so if he wants to keep a secret or two, who are you to stop him?

It would make you a hypocrite to think anything else when you’re keeping your own share of dangerous secrets close to your chest.

Regardless, it doesn’t feel like you’ve caught him doing something bad, he just seems – flustered, shy maybe, like whatever he’s doing is embarrassing and he needs time to work up the courage to confess to it.

"That’s fine, Joon," You give him a kind smile, "This is your home too and you can do whatever you want. Just let me know if something is bothering you, okay?"

"O-of course, thank you," Namjoon stutters, his golden skin turning rosy as he meets your gaze.

His tail resumes the slow wag it did when he first noticed you, the tense muscles in his arms relaxing as he realizes you’re not going to ask for more details. You take note of how Namjoon loosens the tight grip he has around the towel in his hand, the cloth a perfect distraction to change the subject.

"Here," You reach out for the towel, hoping the diversion isn’t too obvious as you gesture for him to hand it over, "Let me dry your hair before you get the floor all wet, yeah?"

Namjoon practically stumbles over his own feet in his haste to give it to you, eyes bright at the prospect of you taking care of him – of you grooming him.

He stops right in front of you, feet touching, as he quickly lowers his head to present his hair.

Namjoon’s silver hair has grown a lot in the last months, just like the others, but they don’t seem too bothered by it. Shelters tend to like their hybrids to look maintained and clean cut to entice adoption, so you doubt the boys have ever had the chance to explore or change up their styles much. They deserve the chance to express themselves in any way they want, which is why you’re going to wait for them to come to you first - should they ever want a haircut.

You let out an endeared laugh as you bring the towel up to his head, lightly fluffing up his locks. Keeping your touches gentle, you dry the wet fur on his ears, being careful not to ruffle or pull on anything too hard.

Namjoon’s chest rumbles contentedly as you take care of him. His head keeps dipping lower and lower until it rests on your shoulder, his body melting under your hands. The moment you finish drying off his ears Namjoon tucks his face closer to your throat, basking in your mellow and sweet scent.

You move to the back of his head, running your fingers through the soft strands at his nape to make sure you got every spot. Namjoon’s position leaves you looking over his shoulder as you work, at the tan and unblemished skin that stretches over his broad back.

As Namjoon repositions his head, pressing himself closer to your throat, you notice a faded scar at the edge of his shoulder; the skin having whitened over time. The shape of it looks odd, little indents forming two half-moons on his skin.

"What’s this?" You ask curiously, softly brushing your fingertips across the marks.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Namjoon makes a garbled sound at the contact, a shiver running through his body as he latches on to your waist. Sharp teeth nip at your delicate throat, a low growl vibrating against your skin in warning as he pulls you flush against his chest.

You freeze up at the unexpected response, towel dropping to the ground. You hold your breath as Namjoon pants against your neck, choking down the next round of growls building in his chest.

You’re not scared, this is sweet and clumsy Namjoon after all, but something about it is so undeniably wolf-like that it trips up your brain. There’s a part of you that wants to relax, submit, to the canines pressed against your pulse; but even just the thought of doing it is silly enough to shake you out of your shocked daze. Namjoon would never hurt you, strong wolf instincts or not.

Namjoon's teeth slowly leave your throat as he calms down, a pitiful whine bubbling out of his mouth as his mind clears. It isn’t often that the wolf hybrid loses himself to his instincts, but no one has touched that mark aside from Hoseok and Taehyung – the two that made it. He knows you’re not a threat, that you won't break it, but he can’t help but be awfully protective of it.

"I’m sorry," Namjoon whimpers, ears flat on his head as he kisses the barely-there marks on your throat. He rubs his nose all over your neck, scenting you to calm himself down.

His voice is winded as he mutters, "It’s my pack mark."

"Namjoon," You breathe, guilt squeezing your chest, "Please don’t apologise, not when I’m the one that touched it without asking first. I’m the one that’s sorry."

You move your hands away from his shoulders, making sure to steer clear of his mark as you wrap your arms around his waist. You hug him tight, murmuring another apology against his skin as you press your lips to the back of his neck.

After a minute of holding him close and feeling his heartbeat slow down to a more steady pace, you tentatively ask, "Can you tell me about it? Is that okay?"

Namjoon makes an agreeable sound, pulling away from your throat. He tucks his face over your shoulder, holding you in a proper hug as he says, "Do you remember what Seokjin hyung told you about mating bites, about how it’s similar to how humans get married?"

"I do."

"A pack mark works in a similar way. It’s essentially the same thing, it’s just the intent behind the bite that’s different. It can either be romantic or platonic, or even both depending on the circumstances."

"Our–" Namjoon hesitates, clearing his throat. "–Our pack mark is platonic. It creates a bond between us that allows our instincts to feel more secure and settled, because we know we have packmates that are looking out for us. We can read each other’s emotions more easily too, but we’re not as close as a romantic bond; it doesn’t have the same depth."

The sadness in Namjoon’s voice is a palpable, horrible, thing.

"It’s hard to explain how it feels. All I know is that when you touched it, I couldn’t even think, it was like my instincts took over immediately. Even just the idea of losing our mark was too much – it made me feel hollow, like someone was trying to break my chest in two. It was almost like," Namjoon takes a deep breath, his tail tucked firmly between his legs as he weakly admits, "... like dying would hurt less."

You bite your lip, hoping your shock isn’t noticeable in your scent. There’s many things you can say, want to say even, but you don’t think the wolf hybrid would be ready to hear it.

"That sounds intense," You murmur.

"Yeah."

You leave the subject at that, offering Namjoon some time with his own thoughts as you rub comforting circles into his skin.

Namjoon sounded pained to admit that all he has with Hoseok and Taehyung is a platonic pack mark. You’ve seen the glances they steal at each other, the pure adoration and love there that goes far beyond friendship or family. They always seem to be one step away from crossing over the flimsy line they’ve drawn between platonic and romantic, but they never do.

As much as you would love to sit them down and make them talk it out – make them confess – it won't be of any help if they’re not ready for it. You can only assume they have their reasons if they’ve been holding back for this long, even if it’s hurting them to do so.

You gently pull out of Namjoon’s tight hold, smiling at the disgruntled sound he makes as you step back. You bring your hands up to frame his face, cupping his cheeks. The wolf hybrid tilts his head, leaning into your warm touch as he meets your gaze.

"Thank you for telling me, Namjoon, it means a lot to me. I’ll be more careful in the future, I promise."

He nods, giving you a grateful smile, "It’s okay, Y/n. Thank you."

You don’t want to leave Namjoon on a sad note, not when the others probably won’t stir for a while. You watch him closely as you move a hand down to his jaw, taking the way his ears begin to perk up on his head as a good sign to continue.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter closed in anticipation as you lean closer, mouth parting to let you in. You press a sweet kiss to his lips, stroking a thumb across his strong jaw as he releases a shuddering breath.

Namjoon uses the grip on your hips to keep you still, recapturing your mouth before you can pull away. It’s only when he starts nipping at your lips, trying to deepen it, that you have to force yourself to step away. You would love to spend the entire morning with Namjoon if you could, but the clock is ticking if you want to get to work early. You promised them yesterday that you would be home in time for a late dinner, so more kisses will just have to wait until then.

Namjoon whines when you break the kiss, not willing to let you go. The wolf hybrid’s reluctance makes your chest warm, your stomach fluttering with the knowledge that Namjoon wants you just as much as you want him.

You smile, charmed, giving his cheek a loving pat before you let go of his face.

"I have to get to work," You sigh. "But I promised I’ll be home early so we can spend more time together later, yeah?"

"Fine," Namjoon grumbles, tail wagging at the idea of having you back home soon despite his pout.

"Good," You grin.

You pick up the towel from the floor, looking away as you push it to Namjoon’s chest. You know the longer you stare at his bare skin, the harder it will be to walk away.

"Go put a shirt on while I grab breakfast," You mumble, embarrassed.

Namjoon seems to grow taller at that, straightening out his body and tensing his muscles teasingly in your peripheral. "Why? Like what you see?"

He laughs as you shove at his chest, trapping your hand against his skin. He looks pleased at how the contact makes you squirm, golden eyes filled with mirth at the indignant squeak you let out as he flexes his pecs.

You hang your head in defeat, heat creeping up the back of your neck as you admit, "Yeah. I like it a little too much."

Namjoon’s laughter chokes at that, not expecting you to be so honest. You slip your hand out of his grasp as he coughs, chuckling at the wide-eyed look he gives you.

Finding a window to tease him back, you slowly drag your eyes from his feet to his face, Namjoon’s cheeks reddening under your gaze.

It takes all of your willpower to take a step towards the kitchen, voice playful as you add, "You know, if you don’t get dressed now you’ll end up wiping drool from the floor when the others wake up."

You bite back a giggle as you walk down the hallway, Namjoon’s sputtering echoing behind you. The best part is, the wolf hybrid doesn’t even realize you’re right – seeing Namjoon in all of his shirtless glory probably would’ve sent the others into an early rut.

You click your pen, staring absentmindedly at the blank document in front of you.

The lack of progress you’ve had so far with your case is frustrating. You have leads, but they’re too big, too vague. You know that the men you saw on the news are connected to Lim Enterprises but aside from the photos your informant gave you, you have no other proof of their involvement. It’s definitely not enough to hold up in court.

Sighing, you spin around in your chair, watching the ceiling slowly blur together. There has to be something you can do.

The Lim Enterprises you know now are good at covering their tracks – know exactly what to avoid after so many run-ins with the police. They must be aware of the whistleblower and the impending lawsuit coming their way, so you have no doubt they’ve been doubling down on anything that could've been useful to your case. Any evidence of their money laundering is likely already long gone and buried deep.

But – you stop spinning, blinking to clear your swimming vision – if the present won’t help you, perhaps the past will?

Your knowledge of hybrid trafficking is only a recent development. Even if Lim Enterprises have hidden their tracks of money laundering well, who’s to say they’ve been as throughout with all of their illegal activities? If they don’t know you’re looking into it yet, you might still have some time to dig up new leads or information that might help you. The hybrids could be your ticket in.

Heart pounding with renewed excitement, you quickly wake up your slumbering computer, clicking impatiently to access the database of archived court cases.

So far, your focus has been on any legal documents you could get your hands on involving Lim Enterprises’ books and money transactions. The company has been in hot water for not providing enough security to high class customers, causing a handful of their clientele's homes to be robbed. It hurts you to admit that it’s pretty much the perfect set-up for money laundering. After all, who would suspect a security corporation to steal from their own clients and then launder the money back to their own business through a subsidiary of smaller companies?

When you first started working on the lawsuit there were only a handful of cases that seemed relevant to look into, all of them ending in some sort of private settlement out of court.

The most likely scenario is that Lim Enterprises blackmailed their clients into silence, no doubt using whatever data they’ve collected on them against them. If only one of them would speak up about it. Having one rich client confess to being blackmailing would be enough to warrant an investigation, which would allow the police access to search for their 'off the books’ transactions and prove your client’s claims. Sadly though, it’s never that easy.

Whatever dirt Lim Enterprises have on their clients must be good, because they’ve never returned any of your messages. One of them even went as far to pretend you weren’t standing right in front of their glass office door for three hours trying to get their attention. They’re clearly scared of what Lim Enterprises can do, but that just makes you all the more determined to take them down.

Though, since the initial pool of cases you looked into was so small, there has to be others you’ve dismissed without realizing they could be connected. Lim Enterprises has been in many minor scandals over the years, many you figured didn’t matter in regards to your case, but perhaps that's where you went wrong. Maybe everything plays a part in it, maybe the money laundering is just one of the many veins pumping life into the rotten heart at the centre of the corporation.

It seems you need to go back to the beginning, to scour the available databases and news outlets for any mention of their name in regards to disputes or fights. There has to be something linking them to hybrid trafficking or abuse if they've been running a syndicate on the low for years already.

You roll your shoulders back, taking a deep breath as you begin typing in all the possible keywords you can think of.

Lunch seems to have come and gone by the time you’re done, finger hovering over the search button as your colleagues make their way back into the building, their loud laughter muffled by your closed door.

You know you’re creating another world of problems for yourself by doing this, but you have no other option. Attempting to expose Lim Enterprises has put a target on your client's back, and you can’t let their bravery be in vain.

"Okay, you can do this," You mutter, the half-hearted pep talk not doing much to boost your confidence as you finally click the button, pages upon pages of relevant hits immediately popping on your screen.

Your search has produced 7613 results.

"Fuck," You whine.

Looks like your wish of having a stable sleep schedule just went down the drain, at least for the foreseeable future.

Jimin trudges up the stairs, pouting, as he pulls on the one lock of hair that just refuses to fall right. It has started to curl awkwardly around his ear, the ends irritating it whenever it moves. Annoyed, he flicks his ear in a half-ditch attempt to move the strands around.

As it twitches, it picks up on a sound that almost makes Jimin stumble, his feet screeching to a halt as he realizes he can hear light footsteps moving around inside of your room.

It’s mid-day by now, the sun shining high in the sky, and Jimin knows you’re not home. Your faint scent is proof enough that you left hours ago and yet, someone is rummaging around in your room.

Jimin sneaks closer to the door, tail puffed and listening intently as he maps out where the intruder moves. Ears perked, he hears the footsteps go to your desk, pausing long enough to open a few drawers, before they move on towards your bed. Jimin scoffs, curling his fingers into claws as he creeps closer to the door, avoiding the floorboards he knows will creak. The intruder is foolish, that’s for sure, breaking into a home in broad daylight that houses seven hybrids–

Jimin jumps back with a hiss as the door unexpectedly swings open, his muscles tensing up in preparation for a fight. He zeroes in on the shadow moving just behind it, the intruder too caught up with whatever he’s stolen to notice him yet.

Just as Jimin is ready to lash out and claw up their face, he notices the bunny ears peeking out behind the wood, the door opening the rest of the way to reveal a surprised Jeongguk.

The bunny hybrid freezes as he sees Jimin standing there, claws out and gaze predatory. He almost drops the bulky headphones in his hands out of shock, fumbling with the cord as he lets out a startled noise.

Jimin lowers his hands immediately, snuffing out the instincts that tells him to attack, attack, attack. The rational part of his brain knows the bunny poses no threat, and seeing the way Jeongguk trembles at the sight of him makes something acidic curl in his stomach.

Jimin takes a step back, lip curling with distaste as he says, "Oh, it’s just you."

"Jimin hyung," Jeongguk blinks, lips parted as he stares at him with big eyes.

The cat hybrid winces at the familiarity.

He gives Jeongguk a flat look in return, eyes narrowing with suspicion as he asks, "What were you doing in Y/n’s room?"

The question seems to snap Jeongguk out of his daze. He holds out the headphones, presenting them to Jimin.

"Y/n said I could borrow them to listen to her old record player! I think she forgot about it when she moved from her old apartment, so it was just left in a box in her closet. Seokjin hyung found it yesterday when he was helping her put away some clothes, so she placed it down in the living room for everyone to use. Didn’t you see it?"

Jeongguk’s dark eyes sparkle with excitement as he retells the story, one of his ears flopping adorably as he begins to relax.

"No, I didn’t," Jimin chews on the inside of his cheek, his hard gaze softening as it moves back to the staircase.

Jimin, much like Yoongi, loves music – particularly anything old-school. It reminds him of one of the few vague memories he has from when he was young, before he realized what he was, and what it meant. He thinks he can remember a faint voice crooning about everlasting love and destiny, the sound of crochet hooks bumping together over the slightly faulty needle of an old record player.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Jeongguk nods. He watches Jimin intently, curious eyes catching the longing that seems to flicker over Jimin’s features.

The bunny hybrid steps closer, swallowing thickly as Jimin’s cold stare snaps back to him, pinning him down. He pushes through the instinctual jitters that try to rattle him into fleeing, picking at the twisted headphone cord to channel his nerves into something else.

"Do you want to listen together, hyung?"

Jeongguk’s voice is sweet and shy, a pale blush colouring his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his hands.

Yes, Jimin thinks, I want to.

Jimin’s heart thuds harshly in his chest, almost knocking him off-balance. He’s unprepared for the sudden rush of emotion that hits him, the little spark of warmth that ignites as Jeongguk’s ears perk up completely, attention fully turned to whatever answer Jimin gives him.

Jeongguk is always kind, so willing to take a step forward even when Jimin takes ten back. The bunny seems to have grown a little sweet on him ever since that night on the couch, giving him flustered smiles whenever their eyes meet instead of looking away; going out his way to put another cut of meat on Jimin’s plate even if it makes his own nose scrunch with disgust.

Jimin doesn’t like it.

He can’t help but think of Jeongguk as foolish, showing parts of himself so readily to others who can destroy it.

Jimin doesn’t need Jeongguk giving him sweet glances that make his heart race, doesn’t want the emotions that are reserved for Yoongi and you to react to someone else. It’s all unwelcome, unwanted, and so Jimin does what he knows best – he deflects.

"How? There’s only one pair."

"Oh," Jeongguk frowns at the headphones, the space between his brows furrowing cutely. He thinks, nodding to himself before he flashes Jimin a grin that shows off his bunny teeth, "We can take turns, I don’t mind, hyung."

"No."

"No?" Jeongguk’s smile slips, his ears drooping under Jimin’s glare. "Would you like to listen first, then? I can wait."

Stupid.

Jimin should say it, should tell Jeongguk to stop opening his heart to people who don't care for it, but the thought makes his throat feel tight, like it’s going to choke him. The bunny already looks sad enough at his rejection, there’s no need for him to make it worse.

"Later, maybe," Jimin grumbles, wincing inwardly at the half-promise he has no plans of keeping.

"Okay! Whatever you want, hyung," Jeongguk brightens, and Jimin’s heart does another terrible flutter.

He turns on his heel like a coward before the bunny hybrid can think to say anything else, marching the short distance to his bedroom. He presses a hand to his chest as he goes, frowning at the rapid pace it beats against his skin.

Feeling betrayed, Jimin bursts through the door with a little more force than intended, his dramatic entrance startling Yoongi.

The book in Yoongi's hands slips from his grasp, almost hitting him in the face as he scrambles to sit up in bed. He frowns, concern rolling off his scent as he asks, "You okay, kitten?"

Jimin's shoulders slump, the little burst of anger he was feeling fizzling out immediately as he sees the worried pinch between Yoongi's brows. It leaves him feeling sour. He doesn't want Yoongi to worry, not when he's just having a momentary lapse of judgement – his feelings acting out without his permission.

Ears falling flat, Jimin dives into bed to cuddle up against Yoongi's side. His alpha makes a soft noise, tucking him protectively under his arm.

Jimin's eyes flutter as Yoongi runs his fingers through the soft hairs at the back of his nape, fingertips ghosting over his skin.

Yoongi's voice is as gentle as his touch, rumbling soothingly as he speaks up. "Was it Jeongguk I heard you talking to? Did something happen?"

Jimin swallows thickly, guilt churning in his stomach as he listens to Yoongi's soft drawl.

How dare his heart skip a beat for the bunny hybrid when his alpha is so sweet, so loving? Jimin has everything he could ever want and more in Yoongi. He has sacrificed so much for him, been so selfless, and this is how Jimin repays him – by letting others slither into his heart? Yoongi would probably leave him if he knew, would probably find someone better.

Jimin doesn't dare answer, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. He curls his tail over Yoongi's waist, pulling himself as close to his alpha as possible.

Yoongi tilts his head without question as Jimin noses against his neck, giving his packmate full access to his throat. Jimin releases a shuddering breath as he inhales Yoongi's calming scent, sage and lavender wrapping around his senses like a comforting blanket. He loves scenting Yoongi, finding a particular comfort in his woodsy smell that nothing else comes close to. It allows his brain to shut off, to just drift and be for a while.

But now, even with his face smushed as close as possible against Yoongi's throat, inhaling his scent so hard it makes his nose burn, Jimin's mind just won't stop spinning.

Yoongi cups the back of his neck, deft fingers pressing on all the points that turn Jimin's body to liquid when he's stressed. Jimin releases a soft mewl as he melts against his alpha's body, fisting the front of his shirt to keep them glued together.

"Kitten.." Yoongi repeats, all careful and gentle.

Jimin knows his packmate well, knows he's not going to let it rest until he learns why Jimin's upset. All because he's a good alpha, a great mate, and it makes Jimin's heart ache something terrible.

He loves Yoongi so much, too much, enough that there shouldn't be any space left in his heart for anyone else.

"Nothing happened, hyung," He murmurs. He can tell Yoongi doesn't quite believe him.

Yoongi turns his head, jostling Jimin from his neck. He presses a firm kiss to Jimin's forehead before the younger can whine, purrs vibrating from his chest as he tightens his hold around Jimin's shoulder.

He picks up the book he was reading before getting interrupted, resting it comfortably against his raised knee. He hums as he tries to find the spot he left off on, softly clearing his throat before he begins to read the story out loud.

Jimin usually falls asleep to this, listening to Yoongi's slow drawl as he recites the books he's reading. He tries to focus, he really does, but his mind keeps drifting back to Jeongguk's sparkly eyes when he smiled at him, to the excited quiver that ran through his long ears when he thought Jimin would join him.

He squeezes his eyes shut as his heart does another tumble, pretending he doesn't feel how badly his chest hurts as Yoongi's tender purrs bleed into his muscles.

There's a lull in the story as Yoongi flips the page, and Jimin opens his mouth without meaning to. "I'm fine," He whispers, not quite sure who he's trying to convince.

His left ear twitches at the lie. He can feel the long strands once again curl into the sensitive skin there, bothering him.

Yes, Jimin thinks, hating himself, everything is just swell. "Okay, Jiminie," Yoongi concedes, even though they both know he isn't.

He tugs his packmate closer, burying his nose in Jimin's hair to get a whiff of his fresh citrusy scent. There's a sour bite to it that only appears when Jimin's upset, and it does nothing but solidify Yoongi's worries that something is wrong.

He spares a glance at the door, gaze narrowing as if he can see Jeongguk through the thick wood. He's not dumb, he can put two and two together. Whatever made Jimin feel so troubled, the bunny was there for it – and Yoongi won't rest until he knows what Jeongguk did.

"Hey."

Seokjin jumps at the sudden voice behind him, knife clattering to the counter. He whirls around with a small squeak, startled at Yoongi's sudden appearance. Even with his better than average hearing, he didn't hear a single sound from the cat hybrid as he entered the room.

"Hey?" Seokjin echoes, a little put off by the intense look Yoongi is giving him.

The kitchen is silent, the sounds from the rest of the house muffled by closed doors. Seokjin scratches his neck, instincts a little jittery from the scare and the way Yoongi is just standing there, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

His mouth is pressed into a thin line, displeasure clear on his face. His dark tail flicks behind his back as he waits, like he's expecting Seokjin to say something first – to break the quiet between them.

Seokjin squares his shoulders, angling his jaw to keep his head high. He tries to find some comfort in that his height leaves him looking down at the predator hybrid, but he's never been very good at confrontation and Yoongi's posture screams it.

"Can I help you, Yoongi?"

The words barely have enough time to pass through Seokjin's lips before Yoongi speaks, the cat hybrid's deep voice overlapping his as he says, "You need to tell Jeongguk to back off."

"Back off?" Seokjin frowns, "From what?"

"Jimin."

Seokjin can't help it, the answer is so unexpected it makes him snort.

He chokes on the laughter bubbling up his throat as he blinks and suddenly finds Yoongi inches from his face, sharp teeth exposed as he hisses.

Seokjin recoils, back hitting the counter as Yoongi's bitter scent fills the air.

The cat hybrid keeps advancing, inching closer and closer to Seokjin's face. At least, that was probably the intent. The height difference leaves Yoongi closing in on Seokjin's vulnerable neck instead, the intimidating glare burning into his skin.

Seokjin's instincts kick in before his rational brain can attempt to diffuse the situation, all he knows is that being cornered against the counter by a predator screams danger.

Yoongi's hiss stutters as Seokjin's hands roughly grab his waist, flipping them around. Seokjin leans on the counter for support, legs weak from Yoongi's abrasive scent. It leaves him closer to Yoongi's face than anticipated, the cat hybrid's expression caught somewhere in-between annoyed and confused.

Frankly, Seokjin is tired of being treated like less than the predator hybrids. His biology might be working against him but that doesn't mean he's weak. He shouldn't have to sit back and accept being intimidated in what's supposed to be his safe space, just because the predators need someone to push around.

"Yoongi, I think you got it all backwards," Seokjin says, steeling his nerves as he holds the other alpha’s gaze.

"Jeongguk came into our den smelling like Jimin last week but you don't see me kicking up a fuss about it, do you? He was all shy and flustered because your–"

Yoongi winces as Seokjin's crooked finger is pressed hard into his chest, "–packmate decided to groom mine. I don't mind them bonding, Y/n is counting on us to get along, but I don't take kindly to you making assumptions in your head about my baby. If Jimin has a problem with Jeongguk, he can tell him himself and not send you as some hissy little middle-man."

Yoongi's eyes narrow at the emphasis Seokjin places on little, his ears pushing back as if he's ready to fire off an insult.

The sight of Seokjin pressing his tongue into his cheek, eyes hard as he stares Yoongi down, mellows the cat hybrid out immediately. Yoongi's gaze wavers, darting between the fiery expression on Seokjin's face and a random spot on his broad shoulders, not quite sure where he should look.

Seokjin clicks his tongue, eyebrows quirking as he says, "Next time, act civil if you want to talk about something. Hyung promises to listen if you can do that."

Yoongi's pale skin grows flushed as he becomes a little too aware of the way Seokjin has him caged against the counter. He swallows thickly, stomach flipping as his brain keeps replaying the image of Seokjin's plump lips forming around hyung promises, hyung promises.

A prey's promise shouldn't matter, so why does it leave Yoongi feeling ... safe?

Seokjin steps away, levelling a dumbstruck Yoongi with another look before he turns on his heel and leaves.

He keeps his composure until he rounds the threshold and disappears from the cat hybrid's sight, his cool demeanour slipping as he collapses against the wall. His knees are practically knocking into each other with nerves, his fingers sore from gripping the counter so tightly.

Seokjin knew he was playing with fire, that Yoongi could've ripped out his throat if he felt like it, but it didn't even seem like thought crossed his mind. The surprise on Yoongi's face as he flipped them around and the soft blush that bloomed under Seokjin's attention is enough to leave the hamster hybrid feeling a little proud, excited, almost.

He never expected the alpha cat to fold so easily.

Seokjin knew that the more exposure he had to the other packs' scents, the easier it would get to suppress the instincts that beg him to run whenever their scents sour. He hoped, yet he never thought he would be able to actually stand up for himself and Jeongguk without feeling like his heart was going burst from fear.

The realization makes Seokjin grin, his legs still a little wobbly from the adrenaline rush as he makes his way to his room. He doesn't even care that he left his half-prepped snacks, his stomach full on the knowledge that the predators won't be able to push them around anymore.

Seokjin's ear twitches just as he's about to open his bedroom door, picking up a sound from the room he just left.

He lets out a low laugh, pleased, as he makes out Yoongi muttering a confused what the fuck into the empty kitchen.

a/n: Chapter 21 of "Abundance" is available on ko-fi! You can find it here: https://ko-fi.com/s/e95005a91d

Ohh, things are starting to heat up a little now! I’d love to know what you think about the canine’s packmark and namjoon’s reaction to it, and what your initial reaction is to the interactions between jikook, yoonmin and yoonjin? 👀 

Reblogs and comments make my day! 

PS. Next chapter will be posted May 20th!

See you all soon, stay safe! <3

#hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #hybrid jungkook #hybrid jimin #hybrid yoongi #hybrid hoseok #hybrid seokjin #hybrid namjoon #hybrid taehyung #hybrid au #bts poly au #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst

[rentsturner]

Bruised Knuckles - A.T

Warnings; reader has punched a wall, mentions/descriptions of injury, mentions of (non-specified) scars, content that some people may find as very similar to self-harm, reader is paranoid and insecure. If any of this triggers you pls don’t continue to read. a/n: I originally wrote this about a different person but I've rewritten it for Al for a bit of comfort after a rough few days. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks @martinipoliz for being my hype man

It’s a cold day in London, the skies grey and cloudy over the city.It’s been a long day without Alex. He’s been out since the early morning at the recording studio, the boys being in the middle of recording their next album, leaving you to spend the day alone in your tiny apartment. As much as you don’t want to admit it, the isolation has gotten to you - you slipped, more than once. Yeah, you regret it, but also there’s that nagging need for more at the back of your mind. You try to push it out, to forget about it, but the cold in the air doesn’t help to ease the ache in your knuckles. 

The door to the apartment shuts with a click and a jangle of keys, footsteps heading towards the door, the click of Alex’s boots rhythmic on the hardwood floor. He’s back. A wave of relief floods you, before you remember and your chest clenches in panic.

‘Alright, love?’ Alex flops onto the bed with a lazy grin, stretching his arms up over his head. 

‘Yeah, fine, you?’ Keep it simple. You busy yourself with a stack of books by the bed, straightening the pile of your shared novels so it’s not about to topple over. Keep the hand busy.

‘Yeah, alright. I missed you. Took us so long to record one of the new songs, Cookie kept messing up the solo so we all just ended up leaving it for the day.’

You nodded along and let him recount the rest of the story. You’re admiring the way his dark lashes flutter against his pale skin and how his arms flex as his hands come to rest behind his head, when you realise that Alex has stopped talking. And you’ve stopped moving.

‘Your knuckle…” his eyes dart down to the hand you’ve been trying to hide ever since he walked through the door. Busted.

‘Oh.’ You move to get up, anything to get his eyes away from your swollen knuckles, red lines criss-crossing over the flowering purple bruises where your hand collided with a solid brick wall. Multiple times. The open cuts are still weeping, even though it had happened hours ago.

‘It’s nothing, just tripped on the stairs. Don’t worry about it.’ You offer a small smile, but it doesn’t fool Alex.

‘No.’ He moves as you do, standing in front of the bedroom door to block your escape. His arms are crossed over his chest, stance serious, but the worry in his brown eyes betrays him. ‘Love. Let me see it.’

He holds out his hand, pale fingers reaching out to you, calloused fingertips brushing against your wrist gently. He knows how to help. The hand reaching, an offer of support, reassurance, love, all those things that you crave but can never admit. Emotions aren’t your forté - never have been.But Alex knows that. There’s no secrets between you. You almost laugh out loud at the thought. No secrets, but you won’t even show him your hand.

Alex would do anything for you, you know that - he tells you all the time. Days spent in bed chatting shit to each other.

‘I’d write a whole album just for you, y’know?’

‘Would you now, Al? I think I’d prefer a book of poetry.’

‘Well I’d write that as well. In a heartbeat.’

Bright eyes, wide smile. Your Alex. He’s joking, of course, but his tone is so serious, his answer without a second of hesitation. Your heart skips a beat.

So now, you give him your hand (and your heart).

He takes it tentatively, one warm hand underneath, the other poking at your raw knuckles gently. When one of his prods reaches a tender spot, you wince and he moves his finger away, meeting your gaze in apology. 

‘You punch something?’ His brow creases, a hand running instinctively over his unruly locks, before scratching at the back of his neck. He’s been growing his hair out recently, letting the brown strands begin to curl around his ears, not using as much gel in it as he used to. He looks gorgeous. Then again, he could shave his head and you’d still think he was the best looking man on earth.

The sting in your hand brings you back to the present. 

‘No.’ You look away from Alex’s gaze, knowing that in doing so you’ll give yourself away, but not having the energy or willpower to stop yourself. Much like the ‘incident’ earlier in the day.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Alex huffs, not in anger, but in frustration - frustration that he wasn’t there to help, to calm you down. ‘Let me clean it up, give me a sec.’

His hand rubs at his eyes, scrunched shut for a moment. There’s dark bags marring his pale skin there - he’s tired too, the long days at the studio beginning to get to him. He goes to move to the bathroom, but you grab his arm with your good hand, gripping it as tight as you can. Don’t leave.

‘No, Al, it’s alright, I’ll sort it.’

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t look happy. Not that you’d expect him to, but…he’s getting frustrated with you, you can tell.

‘You can’t clean yourself up with one hand. Just wait here, alright?’

The inkling is worming its way in now, from your subconscious to your conscious, until it's at the forefront of your mind. He’s angry, he’s disgusted, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to the bathroom, he’s going to the front door so he can get out of here. You’re sure of it. He’ll call Matt or Miles and tell them how crazy you are, how he can’t deal with it any longer.

‘I’m sorry.’ The whisper escapes you and you have to bite the inside of your cheek so no tears will spill. The words are almost silent, your hand dropping Alex’s in defeat.

But Alex turns his head at your weak apology, stopping in his tracks.

‘What? Why -‘

With a jolt, he notices the way you’ve changed - unable to look at him, arms beginning to wrap around yourself, one fist clenched. He knows what’s happening.

‘No, no, love, I’m not angry.’

He’s back at your side in a heartbeat, bringing his hand up to your chest, thumb carefully wiping away the rogue tear that’s tracking a salty path over your cheekbone.

‘I love you. I just want the best for you, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt, just like I’d fucking hope you wouldn’t like seeing me hurt.’

His face breaks into a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you realise he’s right - of course he is. You don’t want to see him hurt, but that’s what you’re doing. He’s hurting just from seeing your hand, it’s obvious from the crease in his brow, the usual bright glint of his eyes dulled and flat. Alex has got too much to deal with already, you’re just one extra problem to add to the mix. You don’t want to be his problem. 

And suddenly it’s all coming up to the surface, ready to combust, explode, these emotions that you never really have a grip on. You bottle them up and push them down, so far down that the only way they can escape is through a rush of anger, jagged and uncontrollable. 

But instead of that, you bury your face into Al’s neck and let it out as slowly as you can.

‘I’m sorry, I was angry, I just wanted to feel something. Some pain. I don’t want to make you feel like this. I’m sorry.’

You’re clutching onto the fabric of his dress shirt like your life depends on it, trying to push the thought of how expensive it probably is to the back of your mind. You can’t possibly let go of him - he's the only one you have left.

Alex is steady, your rock in a storm of emotions. He listens, stroking your hair, long fingers threading through the strands to knead at your scalp, knowing it tends to calm you down.

‘You’re alright, I promise. I promise you, love. I know you get angry. I know you. And I know what it’s like to want to feel something, trust me, I’m far from innocent myself, you know I've had some bad times. We can get through it together, or we can be a mess together. I don’t care, as long as we’re together, honest. I’m not going anywhere.’

And the sincerity in his eyes, those familiar bright brown doe eyes, it convinces you. He means it.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your good hand clinging onto Alex’s shirt sleeve, the other grasped tightly (but not too tightly) in Alex’s grip. His right arm is around your waist, pulling you closer, as if in doing so he can pour all of his reassurance, all of his love, directly to your heart. He knows it’s not possible. But he tries anyway. Because he’ll do anything for you. Your Alex.

He helps you clean your hand later, shushing you everytime you wince (though that isn’t often). His hands are steady and confident as he dabs at the cuts with alcohol, wrapping the gauze over your knuckles and securing it with some tape, humming to himself as he works, the steady tune in time with his deft movement. You wonder if it's one of the songs from the new album - some of them he will share with you, some of them he prefers to keep as a surprise for the release. He doesn’t look up until the job is done - and a good job it is too. Alex kisses the bandages gently when he’s done - a silent ‘I love you. I care for you and I love you.’ 

And you smile, a smile that fills your whole body with warmth, a smile that drowns out the demons, if only for a little while. Because how can you not, when you have Alex. He tries his best and so do you - neither of you can ask anymore. You’ll be a mess together. 

‘Let’s order takeaway and watch Blade Runner, eh?’

Or you’ll get through this together.

#Alex turner #Alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #Alex turner x f!reader #arctic monkeys

[houroftheowl]

do you get deja vu?

miguel o'hara x female!reader–minors do not interact

rating: explicit

summary: what you think is a chance encounter brings miguel o'hara into your life, but it's all a part of his master plan.

content: slight stalking, mutual pining, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, mirror sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Empty.

That’s the only way you could describe the way you always felt after a long day of work. You consider yourself lucky, having an office job and weekends off. The salary you were paid was enough to make ends meet without having to eat ramen noodles for every meal.  

So what if it was mind-numbing work that made you so mentally exhausted at the end of the day that you couldn’t hold a conversation? Who cares if most of your coworkers made your life exponentially harder by refusing to listen to the simplest of directions, making you repeat yourself five times for a simple task?

For the salary they paid, you could make peace with being dead inside. Most days you were able to get home on auto-pilot without so much as looking away from your phone. In fact that was the norm for—

A firm grip on your bicep rips you out of your thoughts, yanking you backwards and into a firm chest only moments before a car flies through a red light. 

“Shit,” you hiss under your breath, but it’s drowned out by the sounds of tires screeching and blaring car horns. 

“You should be more careful,” a deep voice rumbles against your back.

You spin on your heel to face him and nearly gasp at the sight of him.  

He feels familiar from the moment you lay eyes on him. Your eyes travel along the curves of his face, the furrowed brows, the apples of his cheeks before settling on pillowy, pouty lips. 

Heat rises to cheeks at the thought of them against yours. 

Calloused fingers flex around your bicep and snap you from your reverie.

“I… uh thank you,” you say nervously.

A handsome stranger saves your life, and all you can do is gawk at him like an idiot. Said stranger stares at you for a bit, regarding you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

He looks like a prince out of a fairy tale, you think. 

Long lashes kiss his high cheekbones when he blinks; and when those striking eyes meet yours, you feel your heart skip a beat. Wisps of hazelnut brown hair have fallen to his face as he looks down at you. Never in your life would you think to describe a man as pretty, but the word suits him. 

Deep brown eyes rake down your body in a flash, so quick you nearly miss it. 

“I saved your life and all I get is a ‘thank you’?” Your handsome savior cocks his head to the side.

You can’t tell if there are chills running up your spine or butterflies in your stomach, maybe it’s a mixture of both. A thumb strokes the fabric of your blouse, and you can feel the heat of his fingers as if you were skin to skin. His hand feels big enough to enclose your arm entirely.

He gestures to a building down the street, “You could at least buy me a cup of coffee.”

It’s half past five in the evening, a cup of coffee would keep you up all night. But he did save your life.

“Sure, of course.”

It’s the least you could do.

You order a cup of caffeine-free chai, him a black cup of coffee. He tells you his name is Miguel, that he’s new to the city. He’s easy on the eyes, but not much of a talker, preferring to ask you questions rather than talk about himself.

“There isn’t much to tell,” he responds every time you ask him about his family or friends, and you don’t try to dig any further.

But despite his desire to remain mysterious, he wants to know everything he can about you. When you speak, you have his undivided attention. He hangs on the edge of your every word, asks follow up questions when possible, like a perfect gentleman.

The two of you stay in the café chatting until the barista politely asks you to leave so she can begin closing up for the night.

“Can I walk you home?” Miguel asks.

“Oh, that’s not needed,” you reply bashfully, “I don’t live too far from here.”

Miguel hums a disappointed tune before nodding and sliding his hands into his pockets.

“It’d be nice to see you again,” he says wistfully.

“Maybe without the near-death experience,” you laugh and his eyes light up at the sound of it.

He laughs, and again it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I’d love to buy you dinner sometime.”

Even though you’d already repaid him with a cup of coffee, it was so cheap that your tea was more expensive. You feel obligated to accept, so you can really pay him back and make things even. At least with more than two dollar cup of coffee.

He doesn't give you a phone number, just a time and the name of the restaurant with his name.

“So you don’t forget it,” he added.

A date, you have a date. And not with some weirdo from an app who can’t stop staring at your cleavage long enough to hold a conversation with you. Not a creep who started a conversation with a picture of his genitals, but with an honest to God gentleman.

~*~

Seven days go by before you see Miguel again, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been on your mind. As you think about him throughout the day, your stomach does enough flips to compete with an Olympic gymnast. There’s something about him you can’t quite figure out, a feeling like you’ve met him before but you can’t narrow down the time or place.

Miguel is easy to spot in a crowd, he’s a full head taller than most men you’ve seen before. Towering above the people on the sidewalk like a moving skyscraper.  As he walks towards you, the crowd splits to make way for him like the parting of the Red Sea, and just like everything else about him, it’s mesmerizing.

Even if you find yourself thinking of an animal stalking its prey. 

That feeling is back, the one that’s not quite fear or excitement, but an acrid mix of the two. Your body can’t decide if it wants to flee or drop itself at his feet, and all you can do is stand there dumbly. Beaming at him and waving, you stay rooted in place.

Up, up, up your neck cranes to meet his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll have an ache there by tomorrow morning.

The instant he closes the distance between you, he wraps you in a tight hug and in the back of your head, it feels like something he’s done a thousand times before. Familiar. Warm. Safe. His hand rests at the small of your back as you’re led to a table.

Again, Miguel is hesitant to provide any details about himself. Miguel is only slightly more forthcoming when you ask him about himself, but still retains his air of mystery. A few jokes to make you giggle here, a compelling anecdote there. It’s not enough to fully satiate you curiosity, but it’s plenty to have you wanting more.

And again, he doesn’t seem too interested in his food, he’s still laser focused on you. Idly he pokes at it with a fork, his free hand resting on the table only inches from you.

Anticipation has your entire body jittery and you take a sip of wine to steady your nerves.

His eyes follow you with rapt attention like they did in the café, focused on your every move while lingering from time to time on your mouth and neck. He stops mid-sentence when you chase a drop of wine with the tip of your tongue as it tries to spill from your lips.

Timidly, your fingers tap against the tablecloth as you wait for the check. Only inches away, Miguel rest his own hand on the table.

You wonder if he’ll try to kiss you at the end of the night, as the evening goes on, you start to hope for it. But he seems to enjoy making you wait. His lips curl into a smirk when he catches you staring at them.  

He’s teasing me, you think. Winding me up like a top.

Fine, he’s not the only one who can be obstinate.

It’s almost agonizing the way he’s such a perfect gentleman. He doesn’t let you pay the bill (so much for paying him back), opens the door for you, walks on the outermost part of the sidewalk as he escorts you to the subway.

Quick steps turn into slower strides, drawing out the journey the closer it gets to the end.

He’s stalling.

“I’d really feel better if you let me walk you home.” His eyes are gleaming as he asks.

“I’ll be sure to look both ways before I cross the road,” you say with a smile, and turn on your heel towards the train station.

“So when do you want to see me again?”

Cocking your head to the side, you make a show of rolling your eyes, “And who says I want to see you again?”

“You say so,” he retorts smugly.

One stride of his long legs is all it takes before he’s right next to you again.

“Do I?” you inquired innocently. 

“Someone who’s been looking at me the way you have definitely wants to see me again.” Well, he’s got you there.

“Then I guess it’s my turn to pick a time and place?”

He nods, “It is.”

“Two weeks from Friday, there’s a new movie I want to see.”

Miguel takes a step down, so that you have to crane your neck all the way back to keep eye contact. Blood rushes to your head, and you stumble trying to take a step back. But he is quick to grab you by the hip and keep you steady.

He could take the chance to mock you, toss some remark about having to save you again. Instead, he leans in close enough that you hear his voice over the bustling sounds of the train running below you.

“It’s a date,” he breaths against your ear.

The heat of his voice swirls down your neck and settles in the base of your stomach. You feel hot under your skin despite the cool weather. Heat rises in your cheeks, overflowing until the tips of your ears feel like they’re on fire. Hot liquid desire, bubbling under your skin and burning away any remaining stubbornness.

Oh.

You book an appointment with your waxer before your train even arrives.

~*~

Why did you say two weeks? Why not one? Why not the very next day?

The last fourteen days had been agony. You couldn’t text Miguel, couldn’t check in to make sure you wouldn’t be stood up. You couldn’t even send him a little text to say you were thinking about him.

Which you did. A lot. An amount some people might consider to be embarrassing.

How many times did you catch yourself distracted at work to daydreams of him? How many times was he the first and last thing you thought of for the day?

How many nights did you fuck yourself silly on your fingers fantasizing that they were his?

Part of you was bashful at how quickly you became enamored with him. You’d only met him twice, and it was impossible to shake him from your thoughts. Miguel had so quickly settled under your skin, like he was there the entire time.

By the time Friday finally came around, you were bouncing off the walls with giddy anticipation. You leave work at the earliest opportunity, practically sprinting down the sidewalk to make it home. It would only take you two hours to get dressed, but you also wanted to clean up your apartment a little.

Just in case.

Picking the perfect outfit was a meticulous process. You sorted through every item in your closet before deciding on a simple black dress that fell slightly above the knee paired with sheer tights. It was simple, but cute. Patterned with little flowers, with a low neckline that gave a tasteful—but tempting—amount of cleavage. You didn’t even need to wear a bra with it.

Briefly, you considered wearing heels, but dismiss the idea just as soon as it blossoms. Even in heels, Miguel would still tower over you. Not that you minded, of course. Something about him was so eerily electric, equal parts arousing and terrifying.

He’s waiting for you outside the theater, dressed in a sleek button down shirt and dark washed jeans. Miguel leans against the building with his hands in his pockets, he doesn’t try to hide it as he looks you up and down, his eyes focus on your tights just a beat longer than the rest of you and you bite your lip.

“You look nice,” Miguel says warmly.

“So do you.”

Miguel huffs a laugh and looks over your head to the line forming in front of the box off, “We better get our tickets.

You don’t miss the way the tips of his ears are tinged with red.

Why you decided on a movie, you’ll never know. It was torture, two hours in a dark room, right next to the man who had been plaguing your thoughts non-stop. You want to crawl over the seat and mount him in front of all the other theater-goers.

But you don’t, you sit there next to him, rubbing your thighs together as the movie flickers on the screen in front of you. You care barely pay attention to the plot, you can barely sit still next to him until he rests his palm on your knee to keep you fixed in place.

As the night goes on, his thumb taps idly against your knee cap. You wish his hands would wander up further, but he stays rooted in place.

The rest of the movie is spent suffering.

When the credits finally roll, Miguel’s hand slips down to squeeze your thigh, “That was good.”

Meanwhile, you couldn’t remember a single detail about the film. “A little anticlimactic, though.”

His brow cocks at your choice of words, but he doesn’t comment on it. Your mind is racing as you exit the theater and begin walking towards your station.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Why did you choose a movie? Why did you waste this outfit? Will he even want to see you again?

Nerves are twisting your stomach into anxious knots. Anxiety won’t let you look at him, won’t let you speak. All you can do is walk with him in silence, fighting the urge to throw a temper tantrum on the pavement if it gets you a kiss.

It’s not that you’re opposed to making the first move, you just don’t want to. You want him to initiate things because you want to feel wanted.

You just happen to be dreadfully impatient at the same time.

It’s your turn to draw out your steps, to get so far behind Miguel that he has no choice but to turn around and find out. You stare up at him with big, pleading eyes, swaying your weight from one foot to the other.

“So.”

“So?” Miguel asks.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to see you again?” You tease.

Miguel huffs out a laugh, “We already answered that one. You do want to see me again, and soon.”

“How soon?” you continue to play coy.

“Tomorrow, soon,” he responds smugly.

You tap your finger against your chin, pretending to think.

“Tomorrow? I think I have something going on tomorrow actually,” you can help but grin when Miguel rolls his eyes.

“Uh huh,”  he hums like he doesn’t believe you, “You letting me walk you home tonight or you still wanna be stubborn?”

You feign offense with a dramatic gasp, and Miguel cocks his head to the side and if he’s daring you to prove him otherwise.

“And if I do?”

Miguel takes a step close, his hand darting out to grip the back of your head and pull you in close to him.

“I know how to handle stubborn girls like you,” his eyes drop to your lips a moment before staring back into yours.

Handle you, your cunt clenches at the thought. His other hand circles around your waist to hold you still against him. Eyes fluttering shut, you lean towards him as your crane your neck. Your breasts smash against his firm chest as you rise on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.

His kiss is gentle at first, soft plump lips pressed to your chastely. Miguel breathes you in through his nose, hands wrapping around your middle and something in him snaps. Gripping you tighter, his tongue pressing into your mouth with more urgency. The fingers at the back of your head have tangled into your hair and you imagine strangers passing the two of you on the sidewalk are disturbed by your PDA.

Miguel breaks away for air, and you whine at the loss of him. He rubs a gentle thumb against your lower lip to soothe you.

“It’s dark,” he says lowly, his lips hovering above yours, ”I should walk you home.”

You nod and Miguel takes your hand in his and begins a brisk pace back to your apartment. The subway ride feels more excruciating than the movie. He’s close enough that you can finally get your hands on him, but you’re in too public a setting for you to actually follow through with the filthy thoughts rolling around in your mind.

You barely manage to get the door locked behind you before Miguel starts pawing at your clothes. His fingernails snag along the fabric of your tights. Your mouths are slotted together, tongues engaged in a battle for dominance that you’re quickly losing.

By some miracle you make it to your bedroom despite the fact that your eyes are closed and your lips are glued to his every step of the way. 

Miguel uses his towering height to his advantage and steers you back towards your bed, and you don’t realize it until you feel it against the back of your knees. You barely have time to get comfortable before he drops to his knees. Sparks shoot through your spine when your eyes meet.

Heated breaths puffs against your center. Your tights and panties, already soaked from your juices, grow even damper. His hands are everywhere except for where you need them most. Miguel manipulates your body until you’re sprawled out on your back, knees pressed to your shoulders.

As his hands explored your body, you squirm beneath his hold. He squeezes your thigh, a silent  command to stay still. You whine, but comply all the same.

“Patience, kitten,” he growls against your skin.

Again he squeezes you, and he savors the way his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight of you.

“Did you wear these for me?” he asks, index finger gliding along the edge of your lace panties that are doing nothing to hide your modesty.

“Yes,” it comes out as a whisper.

“Oh,” he purrs, resting his face against the back of your thigh, “You’re so good to me.”

He kisses your pussy through your tights. At first, you think he’s going to take the time to peel them off you; instead he rips them right down the middle so there’s only the thin layer of your panties separating your sex from his open mouth.

And then it clicks. He’s playing with you, making sure you’re desperate for him before he makes the next move. In the short time he’s known you, Miguel has managed to get you wound tighter than a spring.

You try to cant your hips towards his face and he laughs at you. You’re on the verge of tears, spread open and throbbing with lustful fervor, and he laughs.

“Miguel,” you whine, “please.”

A single digit presses against the soaked cloth, dead center on your puffy clit and you wail. Tears bead at the corners of your eyes, and it seems to do the trick.

“So greedy you forgot your manners?” Miguel tuts.

You bite your lip in apology, too flustered to speak.

“It’s ok,” he assures you with a kiss to the apex of your thigh, “I know just what you need.”

Pressing lower, Miguel twists his index finger so it catches the edge of your panties to peel away the ruined garment. A string of your juices connects your weeping cunt to your underwear and Miguel hisses at the sight of it. He frantically snatches the liquid desire with his tongue, moaning when the flavor of you hits his taste buds.

“Taste just as good as I thought you would,” he remarks.

Your panties are pulled harshly to the side, kept in place by the swell of your ass. Miguel’s thumb strokes softly against the lips of your cunt, gently spreading you so he can see the mess he’s made of you.

Miguel runs his tongue along his teeth before spitting on your cunt, the thick globule striking firm on your clit before dripping down to your achingly empty pussy. For a second, you could swear Miguel had fangs, but then his tongue traces a stripe from your clit to your hole and your mind goes blank.

His saliva must be mixed with something the way it lights your nerves on fire. Every stroke his tongue has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly he’s able to reduce you to a whining mess if didn’t feel so damn good.

Crying out from his touch, your voice echoed off the walls of your bedroom. Miguel’s tongue continued laving against your clit, grinding the muscle against your nub. His middle finger began to slip into your center, eased by how wet you were but his knuckles still dragged against your walls.

You’re only given a moment to adjust before his ring finger joins the other and begins to scissor you open.

“Wa-wait,” you whine as Miguel begins eating your cunt in earnest fashion.

The slide of his tongue through your folds has you gasping for breath. His fingers probe your walls, touching experimentally until they find a spot that makes you cry out and he begins tapping the pads of his fingers against it rapidly.

Stars burst behind your eyes as you cry out. Your toes curl so tightly, you’re shocked they don’t pop.

Your fingers weave through his deep hazelnut locks and tug until he hisses and removes his mouth from your center. He looks absolutely feral, mouth agape and your juices glistening on his full lips, the look on his face could only be described as pained.

He tries to dive back to your cunt, but you again tug at his scalp to hold him still.

A pathetic sound, one full of ache and longing slips from his plush lips and your pussy clenches at the sound. Miguel’s brows are furrowed, his tongue swipes at his lower lips to collect your slick that’s pooled there.

“Is something wrong?” The expression on his face looks like he's been wounded.

“No, I just…” you pause to catch your breath, “I want to make you feel good too.”

He seems irritated by the statement, frustrated with you for interrupting his meal. He makes a show of sucking your juices off his fingers, they leave his mouth with an audible pop. You jump at the sound. Miguel kisses his way up your body, stopping to nibble at the soft skin of your stomach. His hands are delicate as they creep over your body, nothing but feather light touches before he gathers you in his arms so he can flop on to his back.

Miguel manipulates your body so your dripping core his hovering above his face. He gives you a few moments to remove his belt and free his cock before pulling your hips down to meet his open mouth. You gasp as his tongue prods your aching clit.

Your hips grind against his tongue, need rippling through your body as he explores you with his tongue. Stupidly, you thumb as his belt, quickly succumbing to the onslaught of his tongue against your clit.

Groaning at the taste of you, Miguel pulls your hips lower still so he can work his tongue even deeper inside your heat. You try to wiggle your hips higher, afraid you’ll smother him with your ass, but his nails dig into your skin and hold you in place.

From the sounds Miguel made as he devoured you, it sounded like you were pleasuring him too, but you could barely keep your eyes open to unfasten his belt and get your lips around his cock.

Every drag of his tongue along your clit has your brain short-circuiting like you’re connected to a live wire. Your mouth hangs open in a prolonged sigh and you can’t help but rock your hips into his face. Miguel hums approvingly, digging his fingers even deeper into your plump skin to further aid you.

You should feel guilty, nearing the edge of your peak as he lays beneath you, completely untouched. But your hands keep balling into fists, your eyes keep crossing, and it’s taking all the strength in your body to keep you up right.

Shocks of lightning shoot up your spine as he goes on. Your pulse is starting to race, the pulse of your heartbeat thrumming through every inch of your body. Your climax is just beyond your reach, nipping at the edge of your consciousness.

His hand slides forward on your thigh to rub firm circles on your swollen clit and you shatter. A high whine rips from your throat, echoing off the walls so loudly that you know your neighbors can hear you. Thighs quivering around his head, Miguel holds you close and lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

It feels like your soul is leaving your body. It feels like you’re floating above the earth. It feels like Miguel ripped your spirit from your body and is rolling it around on his tongue. Your ears are ringing, your breath is catching in your throat. Your cunt is clenching around Miguel’s tongue and he can’t stop growling into your flesh.

You could die right now and be perfectly happy.

All of your limbs buzz faintly, your eyes slowly blinking as though you’ve been drugged.

In your post-orgasm haze you barely register that Miguel is twisting your body into a new position. Your limbs feel boneless as he deposits you on his lap, pulling your dress over your head. Hooking his finder under the waistband of your tights, he tugs them back before letting them snap against your skin. You whimper in response.

Goosebumps bloom over your skin, the cool air of your apartment rushing over your newly freed skin. Mind still cloudy from your orgasm, you nip at Miguel’s neck as he tries to rid himself of his own clothes. Your teeth catch his pulse point and he hisses at the sensation.

“What did I fucking tell you about being patient?” He says with a swat to your ass.

Whining, you make your way to his mouth. Miguel has only managed to take off his shirt, his hands just below your ass as he tries to pull his pants down long enough to free his legs. The jingling of his belt buckle has you squirming with anticipation.

The tangy taste of your cunt lingers on his tongue and it spreads in your mouth as his tongue slides over yours. You can feel him smile into your kiss, silently teasing you. But you’re too hungry for him to care. Sliding your arms around his neck, you suck his plump lower lip into yours and bite down hard.

The sound he lets out is absolutely feral.

His hand leaps from his pants to your hips, his nails leaving crescent moon scars in your skin. A harsh slap followed up by his fingers sinking into the meat of your ass is your reward.

Sharp canines drag down the side of your face, not with enough force to draw blood—not yet—but still with enough force that they leave a faint trail of raised skin in their wake. Miguel groans, his breath hot and heavy at the base of your ear. Idly, his tongue leaps out to taste the sweat that’s dripping down your neck.

Sinful, debaucherous things—promise of what he wants to do to you— rumble like thunder through his mouth into your throat, echoing within your body and tingling down to your toes. By the time he reaches the hollow of your throat, he’s eagerly lapping at your flesh and sucking dark marks into your skin.

Traveling farther south, Miguel’s tongue teases the edge of your areola before curling his tongue under your nipple to pull your breast to his mouth. Rolling your nipple on his tongue, he reignites the flame of your desire.

His cockhead grinds against your clit and you have to fight the urge to grind back against him.  

“A condom,” you say meekly gesturing towards the nightstand with a look.  

Miguel groans with a roll of his eyes, impatient but compliant nonetheless. Shifting his weight to his elbow, he fishes through the nightstand until he procures the square of foil. His teeth rip at the package, and he makes quick work of rolling the donut of latex down his length. All the while, he keeps you pressed to his chest as if you weigh nothing.

A dark dusting of hair covers the wide plane of his chest and drags against your nipples in a way that has you whining. Miguel seems to be taking his sweet time, more focused on kissing you between your sighs than anything. He’s warned you twice to be patient, but you’re finding it hard and hard to take the lesson to heart. Easing yourself back on to his cock, you gasp for air as the mushroom tip of his cock stretches you.

“What a greedy little pussy,” he groans in your ear approvingly.

He bucks his hips upward, rewarding you by pressing more of himself inside your hot, wet heat as slowly as he can stand. Gentle as he is, it still has you feeling full. Though it feels more on the side of pleasure than pain, you know you’ll definitely be sore for the next few days.

There’s no rush as you work him inside you, no sense of urgency as his cock slips in, inch by inch. Every so often, you take too much at once, and your hips try to retreat, but the hands that rest on your hips keep you in place.

“Take it slow baby,” he purrs as he rubs gentle circles into the tops of your thighs.

Miguel continues whispering praises to you, dragging his palm up your thigh until he can thumb at your clit in slow languid circles to help you take him deeper. You make the mistake of looking down and cry when you see how much of him is left to go.

“’S too much,” you whine drowsily, “Won’t fit.”

Miguel lets out a pained noise, desperate and needy.

“No, no,” your lover coos, “We’ll make it fit baby, I promise. Just keep being good for me.”

His praise is like sweet music. You sigh and shudder at every word that leaves his lips, your eyelids flutter shut and you just let go. All you focus on is your breathing, chest rising and falling with each inhale. A little lower, another breathy whimper.

Your slick dribbles out around his cock, wetting your inner thighs. It feels sticky and hot as it dries on your skin only to be replaced as more of your juices spill forth.

When you’re finally skewered on his length, the coil of pleasure has wound so tightly in your belly that you feel dizzy. Your spine arches almost painfully, you could feel every vein of his cock, feel the rhythmic thrumming of his pulse through his dick.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding, let your cunt relax around him for just a second and when you try to breath in again your walls clench around him again and you cum. Whispering curses against his neck, you tremble around him pathetically as you try to steady your breathing.

Slumping against him, you let out a pathetic cry as your cunt quivers around him. The angle of your hips has his cockhead lodged against your g-spot. Your vision whites out, you may even have fainted for a moment or two. You don’t come back to reality until Miguel starts to pinch at your nipples, twisting them with his forefinger and thumb until you’re crying out for him again.

Your lover chuckles darkly as he teases you, tugging your spine straight by your tender breasts. Whining, you can feel yourself growing wetter from his touch.

“You wanted it so bad, you better be ready to take it,” Miguel huffs through clenched teeth.

Pulling you to his chest, his bicep locks around your waist so he can begin driving his hips up into your still-quivering cunt. Your climax is drawn out, pulled taught like a rubber band before it snaps and you’re cumming all over again.

“Ooh,” you whine, your voice low and heavy.

His cock is hitting a dangerous spot inside you. The slightest gasp slips out from your lips, but no matter how faint, Miguel hears it and rocks his hips into yours to drill against the spongy patch of nerves until you’re squealing from the pleasure of it.

The higher your voice grows in volume, the meaner he is as he drives his length into your pussy. He feels impossible hot, even through the condom you can feel every ridge and vein along his cock.

There will be bruises everywhere he’s touched, you think. A map of his hands in purple and red.

Three orgasms back to back to back have you dizzy. Tears bead and spill from your eyes and Miguel wipes them away with soft cooing sound.

“Look at me,” your lover commands.

Your eyes snap open.

“There’s my good girl,” Miguel sighs, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, “Taking me so perfectly.”

The praise has you blubbering joyfully, a fresh wave of tears pouring from your eyes as a dopey grin blossoms on your face.

His good girl.

It might be your proudest achievement.

Whining, you buck your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. Your arms wind around his neck, your forearms pressing down against for leverage. Miguel moans into your mouth as his hips pick up speed.

“So fucking good to me,” he hisses against your lips.

Yes, you scream internally, yes, yes yes. His good girl.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as your tongue explores his mouth. The patch of curls at the base of his cock provide delicious friction against your over sensitive clit.

It’s easy to lose yourself in him, to focus on nothing but the slapping of skin and labored breathing. Miguel is bouncing you on his cock now, the tip of it pounding against your g-spot with each time he sheathes himself in you.

You don’t realize you are on the verge of another peak until falling over the edge. It comes in waves, each one cresting higher than the last, your entire body feels like it’s squeezing around his cock until you burst and you gush around him. Your slick rushes forth to coat his lap and thighs. The high pitched whine that leaves you barely sounds human.

Through your tears you see Miguel’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He lasts for a few more pumps before his hips slow to a stop inside you and he locks you in his grip. Miguel feels even hotter inside you as he cums. 

Your body feels like you’ve run a marathon as you both pant against each other’s lips as you come down from your shared high.

Mouth closing around yours in a bruising kiss, you can feel your lover take in a deep breath through his nose. The rush of air feels like heaven against your overheated skin. It seems like he’s trying to take in a piece of you and replace it with himself.

Despite him still being inside of you, you can’t quite get him close enough. One of his hands rests on the small of your back, fingers splayed so wide it nearly spans your entire back. The other tangles in your hair. Hours could have passed as you kissed him, and you’d be none the wiser. You could spend days kissing him and be perfectly content.

Miguel is all around you as you float back down to Earth. You would have stayed there all night if not for the annoying voice in the back of your head reminding you to pee. Each of your limbs feel like they weigh fifty pounds each, but you know you have to get up.

Something feels like it’s leaking out of you, and your snap to full alertness. Eyes focusing on where you’re still joined, you can see milky white leaking out of you and you panic.

The loss of him inside you makes you whine as you try to detangle yourself from Miguel, the tip of him snagging against your sensitive walls. His seeds pours out of you, thick and viscous as it drips down your swollen labia to pool on his cock.

Shit.

What remains of the condom is tangled around the base of Miguel’s cock, the edge of it still stretched in a way you imagine is painful around the girth of him. It’s then you notice he’s still rock hard, like he didn’t just empty himself into the deepest part of your pussy less than a few minutes ago.

Jesus Christ. Had something that big really fit inside of you?

Your knees feel weak the longer you look at it. Miguel laughs at you, tucking his hands behind his head to stretch out on the bed. He doesn’t seem in the least upset—or even shocked—that the condom broke, if anything he looks like he wants to go another round. Cheeks burning, you pry your eyes away from him and make your way to the bathroom.

The three feet to your bathroom has never felt so long. Ecstasy is quickly replaced with embarrassment as you waddle your way there and feel more of your mingled fluids leak down your thighs. When you finally reach the cool marble of your countertop, it feels like heaven against your heated skin.

Ok, the condom broke. They made pills for this, you assure yourself, This isn’t the end of the world.

Your muscles cry in pain as you rise from the toilet. If Miguel wasn’t in the other room, you may have fallen asleep right there. Turning the knob, you quickly wash your hands before splashing a bit of water on your face.

Wearily, you slurp handfuls of water from the tap to cool your scratchy throat. It was a miracle you could even stand with the way your legs were trembling. You could barely speak, you could barely think. Sure, you were hoping for a romp in the sheets that actually made you cum, not reality-shattering sex that had you questioning the existence of God.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, and fuck—You look like a complete mess. Flushed skin, tousled hair, a litany of teeth marks on your neck and shoulders. That freshly-fucked glow is radiating out from your pores and it makes you feel almost guilty.

The creaking of your floorboards breaks you from your reverie. You didn’t even hear him get up from the bed.

Miguel doesn’t speak at first. Slowly, he saunters your way as he pulls off what’s left of the condom to toss it in the trash. The energy coming off of him is electric, every hair on your body is standing on end. He almost seems angry at first, but the edge of his mouth quivers and you realize he’s being playful.  

You’ve just barely caught your breath. You’ve just barely come back to the earth from your last climax.

You should go to bed. You should make up some reason why you have to be up early in the morning.

By absolutely no means should you let him fuck you again, because you know he has every intention of fucking you within an inch of your life. His arm wraps around your center, pulling you closer.

“I didn’t say I was done with you,” Miguel says from behind you.

His eye catches yours in the mirror, soft brown has shifted to a reddish ochre.

He kisses a trail down your spine, fingers trailing along your sides until they rest on your hips. His thumbs curl around the globes of your ass, sinking into your flesh and spreading you open for him. His foot taps against your ankle, and you widen your stance before he has to tell you again.

Miguel watches your reflection, studying your expression for the smallest sign of denial. You still have the chance to say no, to ask him to leave or even join you in bed to go to sleep. But just the way he’s looking at you has you melting.

Precum beads out of the tip of his cock, smearing against your thighs. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you lick your lips.  

“There’s no point in me wearing a condom now, right?” He asks, sliding his cock through your soaked lips. “I already came inside once, a few more times won’t make a difference.”

Sharp teeth tease at the side of your neck as he waits for you answer. But the truth is, you’d give him damn near anything if he asked for it in such a saccharine voice.

“That’s fine,” you pant dreamily, already walking backwards to meet his cock.

Chuckling at the way you’re standing on tip toes to reach him, Miguel gives you a firm swat on the ass. You yelp in response and it turns into a purr as his hand cups the curve of your ass and slides towards your center. The tips of his fingers swirl at your lips, gathering the bits of his cum that dribbles out of your hole.

“That’s my good girl,” Miguel huffs as he gathers your hair in his hand. His wrist twists to wrap your hair around his palm and gives it a firm tug.

You take a deep breath through your nose and just as you’re about to push it from your lungs, Miguel impales you on the entire length of his cock.

There’s no preamble this time, no gentle build up to let your catch your bearings. Instead his hips snaps cruelly into your wet sex and all you can do is whine and whimper and take it. His grip on your hair forces your spine into an arch, his other rests on your hip as he holds you tight so he can keep rocking his hips into you.

Miguel’s hold on your hair forces you to look at your reflection. You look absolutely destroyed. Cheeks flushed, a layer of sweat coats every inch of your skin, there’s a trail of mascara down each eye and your hair is sticking to the sweat at the column of your neck.

Somehow, Miguel looks like he’s completely unphased by your coupling, save for the prideful smile that graces his lips. His skin is just barely flushed, only a few beads of sweat decorate his forehead and chest. The corner of his mouth turns in an even bigger smirk as your airy whimpers grow louder.

His eyes are fixated on your abused cunt, eyes cast downwards as he marvels at the way the lips of your pussy are stretched around his cock. Each thrust of his hips pushes his previous load deeper into your cunt, closer to your aching womb. The slick spasms of your cunt around his cock feel heavenly, your molten walls pulling him back in every time he pulls his hips back.

The wet slap of Miguel’s skin against yours feels even louder in the cramped tile walls of your bathroom. Squelching obscenely, your cunt continues to gush around him.

“Your pussy just sucks my cock right in,” Miguel groans, “Feels like you were made for me.”

Your lover thrusts his length into you like his life depends on it. And maybe, yours does too.

The last ebbs of your last orgasm has just barely left you by the time Miguel had joined you in the bathroom. With only a few stroke his cock, Miguel has you on the edge again, desperate and aching for him.  

Your clit pulses in time with your heartbeat, swollen and untouched between your thighs. It’s screaming to be touched, begging for the faintest of caresses so you can be sent back to that sweet abyss.

But both your hands are supporting your weight against the countertop, and Miguel has his fisted in your hair and the other his forcing your hips to arch against his cock so he can keep driving himself in you.

Somehow, he feels even bigger in this position, his cock hitting you so deeply it pushes the air from your lungs. The spiral of pleasure is winding tighter than before, burning hot and low in your belly.

Your voice echoes off the tile walls of your bathroom, the only sound louder than the wet slap of Miguel’s hips against your damp skin.

“Miguel,” you whine, your voice low in your throat.

Knuckles protesting at the strength of your grip on marble, your voice turns into high whines and gasps. You need him just a little closer, you’re just as greedy as he accused you of being.

More, the thought echoes in your head.

Pushing against the marble, you throw your weight back against his thrusts. He drills into you with so much force that your ears are ringing. You can see the heat burning in his eyes in his reflection. It’s possessive and all-consuming, you want him to look at you like this for the rest of your life.

“Miguel,” you cry again, your voice even more desperate.

You need more of him, but can't gather the strength to speak. Your eyes are glued to his in the mirror and you can feel a fresh batch of tears threatening to begin. Lips mouthing your pleads for him, for God—and at this point you couldn’t tell the difference.

Pleasepleaseplease.

“What does my good girl what?”

Isn’t it obvious? You’re calling out to him from the marrow of your bones, a weeping mess on his cock and he can’t see how hopelessly you need him?

“M-more,” you croak out.

The hand holding your hair pulls you back, forces you to let go of the counter and your hands claw backwards for him wildly. Your head falls back against his shoulder as his arm curls around your shoulders to support your weight. His free hand pushes against your lower stomach, making sure you feel every inch of him with paralyzing clarity.

“Fffuck,” you sob between gasps for air.

Miguel grips your chin, pulling your face so he can slot his lips over yours in a sloppy kiss. Teeth clacking against each other and still he doesn’t let you go. Your fingers dig into his arm, your legs twitch frantically like you’re connected to a live wire.

All it takes is a touch, a gentle rubbing at your clit and you explode. Lungs burning, you let out an obscene sound. Miguel makes a purring sound deep in chest, smug and satisfied as his hurried thrusts slow into steady precise strokes.

Your cunt milks him, his cock giving one final pulse before painting your cunt white with his seed. Miguel moans thickly, exertion finally starting to show in the heavy way he’s panting. Lips parting, you suck in tiny lungfuls of air.

“Try not to let it all spill out this time,” he whispers.

The rest of the night is a blur. You lose count of how many times Miguel takes you. The night blurs into day with him between your thighs, behind you, above you, anyway he could twist your pliant form to reach his peak.

~*~

A prideful feeling has settled in Miguel’s chest as he watches your sleeping form.

Last time was a mistake.

He didn’t take the right variables into consideration, didn’t test his hypothesis enough times before execution.

That wouldn’t be the case now.

The universe he’d found you in wasn’t ideal, but he could work with it. Replacing the version of him from this universe was an easy feat, a man who couldn’t protect you and your future family wasn’t worthy of your time.

Everything else would fall into place, first you, then Gabriella. His eyes drift to his spend seeping out of your swollen cunt and uses two fingers to shove it back inside of you as gently as he can. All there was left to do was wait.

A breathy sigh leaves you at his touch, but you’re too fucked out to stir. His cock twitches at the sound of it. He’ll keep you in bed for the rest of the weekend, long past the 48 hour window that emergency contraception would be effective.

At the first sign of the universe being in trouble, he’ll whisk you away back to his universe where you’ll stay safe and sound for the rest of your pregnancy. He imagines you'll be so grateful to him for saving you, it’ll be easy for the two of you to build something real.

He’s already destroyed one universe, what’s one more?

#miguel o’hara x reader #reader x miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #reader x spiderman 2099 #🪷.fics

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do the wolf pack from twilight reacting to Gn!Reader wearing their shirt/hoodie, but it’s too oversized for them.

(You can pick your preferred characters)

Embry might blush and smile, feeling a mix of pride and affection seeing (Y/N) wearing their oversized hoodie or shirt. They might tease (Y/N) playfully, saying something like, "Looks like my clothes fit you better than they fit me! You're stealing my style." Overall, Embry would likely find it endearing and enjoy the closeness and connection it represents.

Embry couldn't help but grin as they walked into the room and saw (Y/N) wearing their oversized hoodie. Their heart skipped a beat, a warm feeling spreading through them at the sight. "Well, well, look who's raiding my closet," Embry playfully remarked, a hint of affection in their tone.

(Y/N) looked up, cheeks slightly pink, but a mischievous glint in their eyes. "What can I say? Your hoodies are just too cozy to resist."

Embry walked over, unable to suppress the smile on their face. They reached out to lightly tug on the hoodie's sleeve. "I always knew you had good taste, but I didn't realize it extended to my wardrobe."

(Y/N) laughed, leaning in for a quick peck on Embry's cheek. "Your hoodies are like a soft, wearable hug. How could I resist that?"

Embry's heart fluttered at the affectionate gesture. "Well, you definitely wear it well. Maybe I should start charging rent for my clothes."

"Oh, please. I think I make them look even better than you do," (Y/N) quipped, giving Embry a playful nudge.

Embry pretended to gasp dramatically. "Is that a challenge, (Y/N)? Are we going to have a hoodie fashion face-off?"

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of their lips. "You're on. But be warned, I've got some serious layering skills."

As the banter continued, Embry felt their heart swell with affection for (Y/N). It wasn't just about the hoodie or the playful exchange – it was about the comfortable intimacy they shared, the ability to be themselves around each other. Seeing (Y/N) in their clothes was a reminder of that connection, a tangible representation of their bond.

"Okay, okay, you win," Embry finally conceded, laughter in their eyes. "I'll admit defeat in the great hoodie duel."

(Y/N) grinned triumphantly. "That's what I thought. Now, can I keep this hoodie as a token of victory?"

Embry chuckled. "Of course, you can. Just promise to return it if I get too cold."

"You got it," (Y/N) replied, wrapping their arms around Embry in a tight hug, hoodie and all. "I'll keep you warm."

In that moment, Embry felt an overwhelming rush of love for (Y/N). The sight of them wearing the oversized hoodie was a reminder of the small moments that made their relationship special – the shared laughter, the gentle touches, and the feeling of being completely at ease with each other.

They rested their chin on (Y/N)'s shoulder, reveling in the warmth of the hug. "You always manage to make everything feel so much better," Embry murmured, their voice filled with genuine affection.

(Y/N) pulled back slightly, their gaze locking with Embry's. "That's because we're a team, remember? No matter what, we've got each other's backs."

Embry's lips curled into a soft smile, their fingers instinctively reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from (Y/N)'s face. "I'm grateful every day for you, (Y/N). For your support, your love, and even for stealing my hoodies."

(Y/N) chuckled, their eyes sparkling with warmth. "And I'm grateful for your hoodies being ridiculously comfortable."

Leaning in, Embry pressed a gentle kiss to (Y/N)'s lips, their heart fluttering as they tasted the familiar sweetness. "I love you," they whispered against (Y/N)'s mouth.

"I love you too," (Y/N) replied, their voice soft and filled with sincerity.

In that moment, as they stood there wrapped in each other's arms, wearing the oversized hoodie that symbolized their connection, Embry knew that they had something truly special. It wasn't just about the clothes or the playful banter – it was about the deep bond they shared, the way they complemented each other, and the love that grew stronger with each passing day.

As they held each other, Embry couldn't help but think that life was made up of these little moments – the stolen hoodies, the shared laughter, and the quiet expressions of love that spoke volumes without any words at all. And in each of those moments, they found a sense of belonging that made everything feel right.

#x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral you #x reader #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #embry call #embry call x reader #embry call x gender neutral reader #embry call imagine #embry call imagines #twilight scenario #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight x gender neutral reader #twilight masterlist

[dulcesiabits]

umbra.

summary: You offer your blood to a wounded vampire in an alleyway, and now Ruggie can’t seem to leave you alone.

notes: 1.9k, fic, cw for violence, a short fic about Ruggie for @ridhearts​ fantastic vampire au!!

Ruggie hisses as he rips out a chunk of wood lodged in his shoulder, throwing it down the dim alley he’s currently hiding in. 

Stupid vampire hunters, thinking their stakes would be enough to take him. Those things were about as effective as a sharpened pencil, and yet the hunters never learned. It’s not like getting stabbed repeatedly was fun, though it was far easier to deal with than the other weapons the hunters liked to carry around.

As soon as Ruggie got his hands on whatever human thought it would be cute to try to sabotage their monthly exchange by ambushing the Savanaclaw coven with the hunters… well, he’s certain some of the more restless coven members would appreciate having a human to chase down and tear to pieces. Ever since they implemented the deal with the neighboring town, giving blood in exchange for residents no longer fearing leaving their houses after dark, some of the vampires had been complaining about how boring it was to no longer hunt--

Footsteps. Ruggie’s ears twitches as he sits up, wincing. He isn’t in any condition to deal with more threats, not with all his wounds. He hadn’t been able to kill all of the hunters, so have they come back to take him down for good...?

“Are you okay?”

A pair of worn sneakers stops right in front of him. Ruggie’s eyes trail up to meet your concerned face, and he relaxes when he realizes you’re just some nosy human.

“Just fine,” he jokes weakly. You’re peering at all his wounds, and the stake still lodged in his thigh. Your gaze lingers on his fangs in particular, glinting in the faint moonlight. Ah, shit. Maybe he could snap your neck before you alerted--

“Do you need blood?” In one fluid motion, you roll your shirt sleeve up to your elbow, baring your wrist in front of him. “You’re a vampire, right?”

Are you stupid? Ruggie bites back the retort. What sort of person just brazenly offers their wrist to a vampire? If he wasn’t so nice, he could just drain you dry and leave your corpse for the rats, did you consider that?

Besides, he doesn’t recognize you. Ruggie has made it a point to memorize all the residents in the local town, which makes their dealings go much more smoothly. Are you new? Or just a visitor? Either way, it’s more dangerous for someone from out of town to get involved.

He’s not in any position to argue, though. He’s weak, and far from any ally, and a stupidly kind human is far preferable than an aggressive one.

“...I can’t make any promises that you’ll be safe,” he says instead.

You shrug. “Sure. I know the risks.”

“So... why are you doing this? Kinda weird to trust a vampire you just met, if you ask me.”

You pause, twisting a bracelet around your wrist. “I couldn’t just leave you here. It would have felt... wrong.”

Oh, so you weren’t just kind, you were also a bleeding heart. Lucky for him, at least.

Ruggie hesitates, before taking your wrist and bringing it close to his lips, his fangs grazing over your vein. You shiver, but simply incline your head. You never look away the whole time, your eyes boring into his own.

You’re strange, which is maybe why Ruggie impulsively kisses your wrist before he bites down as carefully as he can, first blood drawn.

---

It’s been a week since Ruggie last saw you.

After that night, he had staggered to his feet and left, and the two of you went your separate ways. It’s bothered him since, the fact that you helped him for nothing in exchange, and now it’s like he owes you.

Maybe you’ve already skipped out on town, gone back to whatever place you came from. Or maybe you got into some sort of trouble. Should he have walked you home that night? Anyone out that late should have known the dangers, but...

Ruggie has too much to worry about already. You were just a weird human, and there were plenty of those around. Still his thoughts drift to you, unbidden.

One evening out on town, he finally sees you again, carrying around a bag of groceries at the night market. Ruggie can’t believe his luck; he’s already running up to you before he knows what he’s doing.

“Hey,” he says.

“Oh! Hi,” you say, shifting the bags in your arms. “You’re that vampire that was bleeding in the alley.”

What a great first impression he gave you. “Do you need help with that?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay! I don’t want to bother you.”

You walk farther down the road, but Ruggie follows you.

Every two weeks or so, the humans in town gather together, stringing up lights and setting up stalls around a dusty plaza. You could find anything from homegrown vegetables and pots of jellies and jams, to handcrafted necklaces and watercolor paintings by local artists.

Those were just from the human vendors, though. Sometimes an enterprising vampire would discreetly set up a stall and sell blood, magical artifacts, or the odd trinket. It’s an unspoken neutral area, where both humans and vampires mingle without fear.

“Do you need anything else?” Ruggie persists. “I could help you bargain, if you want. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Can you just answer one question for me?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you want to help me?” you ask. “It’s not like you owe me anything.”

So you say, but he did. Bargaining and carrying your groceries were nothing compared to what you did for him, but it would go some way to filling the debt he owed you. That way, in the future, you couldn’t use it as a bargaining chip against him.

“...You helped me, so I want to help you. Is that so weird?” he says.

You tilt your head again, considering his words. “It’s not weird, but... okay, why not? Here.” You shove your groceries at him. “Why don’t you help me get some good deals? I just moved here, so I don’t know where I should shop.”

“Easy! You’re never gonna get better deals than you will tonight,” he boasts, and you slip your arm around his free one. Ruggie tries not to let his surprise show as the two of you walk along.

It even feels sort of nice.

---

It’s weird how easy it is to talk to you.

Whenever he has any free time, Ruggie spends it with you. Following you around town, showing you all the hidden paths and secluded stores. Pointing out residents, telling funny stories about them or their families. Taking walks in the park, feeding the stray cats that laze in the sun.

Part of it is that he doesn’t want to owe you, and it never hurt to be friendly with the humans in town so they don���t do stupid things like call the hunters on him. But the other part of it is that he likes you. A lot.

You touch him so casually, too, and never seem to give it a second thought. Grabbing his hand to lead him somewhere, linking arms as you stroll, leaning your head on his shoulder when you’re tired. Most of the humans he dealt with were afraid of him, so he’s not used to this, not at all. But it feels good, sometimes, how affectionate you are. Ruggie hasn’t been alive in centuries, but your hands are so warm it makes him forget.

Recently, you’ve been inviting him to come over to your apartment, where the two of you will just watch movies or TV shows to pass the time.

“I was approached by the hunters today,” you say casually, feet crossed on your couch.

“What? Why would they do that?” Ruggie asks, more focused on you than the movie.

“Because I’m ‘closely involved with the local coven,’ they said. Someone told them I’m friends with you, and I have a history of making friends with vampires, so I’m suspicious, I guess.”

“You have?” It makes sense if you’ve known other vampires in the past. It would explain why you were so casual with him, why you let him drink your blood that night without a second thought. Human and vampires having relationships isn’t particularly rare, so... why did it bother him so much?

“Oh, yeah. I used to live in the Heartslabyul area. I used to run around a lot with these two vampires, Ace and Deuce. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them? I had to move because of my job, but I’ve been meaning to go back to visit.”

“Ace and Deuce,” Ruggie says slowly, trying to dig through his memory. “Yeah. I’ve heard of them. They’re notorious troublemakers, right?”

You laugh. “No more than you are! Man, we had some good times together.”

“Do you want to move back there? To the Heartslabyul area?”

“Hmm. I mean, I miss my friends, but I like it here a lot. I mean, I got to meet you!”

Ruggie clears his throat. How could he respond to that? “So... when you say you were friends with those two. Did that mean, you know...”

“Did that mean...?” you prompt him to continue.

“Did they ever drink your blood?” he asks bluntly.

“Not really. Ace acts like he’s too cool to beg a human for blood, and Deuce is still a fledgling, so he hasn’t bit his first human yet. We just talked, hung out... mostly the same things I do with you.” You pause. “Are you asking because you want blood right now?”

Your couch is so small that your knees are touching his. If Ruggie turns and leans closer, he could kiss you.

“What? No. But...”

“But?”

The movie plays on, but he isn’t paying attention to it anymore. He doubts you are, either.

“You know how the coven’s made deals with the local townspeople? They supply us their blood, and we don’t hunt them?”

“Er... are you saying I need to join in...?”

“Nah. It’s nothing like that. I’m asking if...”

“Oh! You want to be the only one to feed on me?” you prompt. “And you’ll only feed on me in return?”

“Yeah, something like that. It wouldn’t be too bad, you know? I’m pretty close to the coven’s leader, so none of the other vampires would bother you, and if the hunters try to mess with you again, you can tell me and I’d get them to back off--”

“Ruggie,” you say firmly. “You don’t need to justify anything! I’ve seen some Heartslabyul vampires enter relationships like that with humans, so I know how it goes. I mean, I wouldn’t even accept if it was anyone else, but since it’s you, I’d love to.”

"Then... Why don’t we make it official right now?”

You move to roll up your sleeve again, but he grabs your wrist to stop you. Ruggie traces a pulse point on your neck with a finger, looking at you with a silent question. You nod, pulling the neck of your shirt down so he can have better access.

There’s no impulse this time as he kisses your neck gently, a balm to sooth you before the sting of his bite. It’s something to mark your relationship, too, and Ruggie will let you choose whatever name you want to call it. He’s not picky, not as long as it means the two of you are tied together.

He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you steady before he bites. You taste a little like salvation to him. As Ruggie drinks, he wonders what you’d think if he asks you to become a vampire, so he could stay by your side forever.

#liya writes #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi x reader #vamp au #im so sorry.... this is so self indulgent....... #even more so than usual.... im looking away.......

[syrupgirl]

woah??? ur writing is legit so good??? may i please request a neteyam x human reader where the reader gets bullied a lot for being human and it’s just angsty fluff??? no rush at all, write if you want to!!

a/n: I feel so bad it took me so long to get to this💔tysm for ur compliments, darling. I hope you like it

i also wanna mention that none of this fic is not meant to hate on Neytiri in any way :’) personally i think she in completely justified in her feelings and hesitancies towards any and all humans. Reader is probably bummed out more bc they hold Neytiri in high regard and wanna be liked by her.

Transcend -Neteyam

The relationship you had with Neteyam made up part of who you were. Before your memory could serve you, nothing could seperate you from the eldest Sully child.

So close to the other that you felt like an extension of the other. You had your own notch that measured your height right next to his, you were there when he chose his Ilu, you were there when he completed his dream hunt, all of it. You had been by his side for all of it and the two of you wouldn’t have it either way.

But, no matter what, what you had with Neteyam would not change the relationships you had with other children for one specific reason, you were human. Of the same people who killed hundred upon thousands of Na’vi. No amount of friendship would change that.

And to some degree you had come to terms with that. You couldn’t change what you were so you focused on fighting for what you knew was right on the side of the people who taught you that in the first place.

You had come to terms with it, but there were days when those hushed words got to you.

Your morning had started off early, Neteyam shaking you awake shortly after eclipse had ended and snuck you out of the mountains, down into the ground. The two of you spent the morning running through shallow brooks and swinging off the highest branches of the trees. It made you feel like you were a child again, where you had done the exact same thing with the same boy until laughter left you breathless.

Now, you were back in the heart of the Hallelujah Mountains, each hauling your hunt in your shoulders.

“They’re back! They’re back!” You heard a little voice shout. Tuktirey.

Oh, how you loved that girl, you just wished you could wrap her up and carry her around with you always. Just days after her birth, you were obsessed with the baby; constantly asking Neytiri to hold her and look after her, taking her with you while you trekked with Neteyam through the forest floor.

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly. As soon as she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the sweetest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

“No love for your brother, Tuk? You wound me!” Neteyam whined behind you. You laughed heartily when Tuktirey promptly ignored her big brother.

“What did you get today? Anything fancy?” She asked eagerly as she stood on her tiptoes, trying to peak at the carcass hauled.

With a huff, you and Neteyam dropped the bodies to the ground to be prepared.

“Nothing to fancy this time, sorry, Tuktuk.”

She pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist, smushing her face into your chest. You laughed again, placed your hands into her hair, and pinched her ears gently.

Tuk squealed and immediately ran away from you, probably to her other siblings. Probably Kiri.

“That is not fair, I’m her brother by blood, and she prefers you over me!” You rolled your eyes at Neteyam’s drama.

“Maybe if you were as cool as me, Neteyam, your sister would actually like you!” You sighed, putting on a fake high and mighty attitude.

“Hey- I am plenty cool!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, skxáwng.”

“By Eywa, why do I even keep you around at this point.”

You doubled over in laughter as Neteyam began to walk away, probably to alert his parents of his return.

Sighing contentedly, you wiped your eyes that had filled with happy tears from you uncontrollable giggles and unsheathed your knife to begin the processing of the meat.

“Can you teach me?” A little voice piped up beside you. Slightly startled, you glanced down and saw little Tuk had returned to your side, a hungry gleam in her eyes, a hunger to learn.

You tapped your chin in fake thought and scrunched up your face. “I don’t know…It might be a bit hard for you…”

“It won’t be hard! I’ve seen Lo’ak and Kiri do it heaps!” She sprung up and down on her toes. “Please? I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Okay, but you have to pay attention to everything I do, clear?”

“Yep!”

-

“-and then once you have wrapped the meat, you always make sure to return all the parts you won’t use back into Eywa.”

You were surprised Tuk has stuck around this long, listening to everything you had said with rabid attention just like she said she would.

It seemed like she was having a great time; trying her hardest to copy your actions to a T and not getting discouraged when they came out a little sloppy. She had been honest when she said she wanted to learn and you had this strange sense of pride that swelled in your chest.

“Tuk, where have you been?” The voice of Neytiri cut through your thoughts and you turned around to that direction.

Stalking towards you was a very frustrated looking Neytiri and you felt a lump of nerves settle in your chest.

The woman stopped behind her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked defensive, like she was ready to fight or flee at a moment notice.

Neytiri didn’t even have to say any words, she just looked you up and down with widened eyes and puffs of air coming from her nose.

“Mama! Yn was showing me how to prepare the meat to be cooked and the…the skin to be…something-ed…” Oh dear, sweet Tuk. She was completely oblivious to the tension heavy stares that were being charged above her head and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Neytiri I apologise, I should have come to ask you first.“ You started and looked to your feet. Hoping that would show her that you didn’t want any trouble.

“You should have. You do not make decisions for my daughter.” She whispered before she gently took Tuk by the hand and walked away, supposedly back to their marui.

You felt a hot flush crawl up from your toes and all the way up to your face.

How embarrassed you felt in that moment. The last thing you had ever wanted to do was to overstep the boundaries made clear by Neytiri when it came to her children. You had no problems with them and understood why she had made them in the first place, but it didn’t make you feel any bit better about yourself when she reminded you that they were there and made to seperate you from her family.

A bit dazed, you crouched down next to one of the hides and hoisted it over your shoulder.

“Did you leave any for me?” Neteyam asked.

You jumped in fright, well you would have if you weren’t carrying such a heavy load in your shoulders.

Turning to him, you tried to release any tension you held in your face.

“I was going to, but Tuktuk wanted to learn so I used yours for that. Sorry.”

He smiled and bent down to pick up the reaming hide and came to stand next to you.

“That’s okay. It will stop her from pestering me to do it for her.”

You laughed a bit at that and the two of you started walking in the direction of the tanning tent.

“I saw that my mother spoke to you, what’d she say?” So he had seen that.

“She just came to get Tuk. Time escaped me, I didn’t realise how long it had been.” You reassured him. He hummed in response, believing your white lie.

Silence sat between you and Neteyam was the first to break it, “Do you think I will be able to convince Ni’awxtu to let me keep a whole skin?”

-

A refreshing shiver ran up your spine as you dropped your feet into the water, kicking them back and forth. The sun beamed though the foliage above, filtering into a bright green light.

Neteyam said he would be back in a minute, just going off to grab…something. Gosh, things just fell out of your head sometimes.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. If you concentrated hard enough, you could pretend that your face wasn’t shielded behind mask, that your exopack wasn’t weighing heavily on your back, that you could breath the Pandora air, fresh and unfiltered. Your brows furrow, and you try to bring yourself back to that peaceful place you were before. It always loomed in the back of your head.

It truly is a strange feeling to be brought up in a culture but still have such a clear divide. That divide isn’t a bad thing, but a thing nonetheless.

So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the creeping of feet behind you, the squishing of leaves and breaking of branches.

You were suddenly, literally, yanked out of your own head and a hand reaches into your hair and pulls you back. Hard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt your precious little head? Can you still breath?” The words are far from genuine, delivered with an airy laugh to it. Clutching the back of your head, you turned around and looked up.

Behind you stood a few kids your age. Their faces were familiar but their names eluded you.

You steeled yourself. You weren’t afraid of these people. “What do you want from me?”

One of them snorts and hits his mate on the chest, encouraging her to laugh with him. She does and they share a snide chuckle. You narrowed your eyes at them and stood, still not matching their height but getting closer to it at least.

“Where is your guard, huh?” The girl asks as she stalks around you. She occasionally flicked and pulled at pieces of your clothing, including your exopack, which made your heart beat pick up more and more every time she brushed it.

“He is not my guard, I can protect myself.” You muttered.

“Even when you are so dependent on…this?”

In seconds, you felt your heart plummet to your toes.

Your exopack was suddenly ripped from your back and your mask along with it. On instinct you held the breath that was still left in your lungs, your shaking hands flew to your face. It was almost like you could feel as the blood drained from your cheeks and formed a tight ball of terror in your chest, heavy and terrifying.

The young na’vi laughed, guffawed really. As if you imminent suffocation was endlessly hilarious to them. The girl held your exopack in her hand. In her hands it looked worse for wear.

She gripped her stomach. “Not so high and mighty now?” She gasped between laughs.

“You can’t be that strong if you are so dependent on that machine to keep you alive, can you?” The boy laughed along with his friend.

Their words didn’t even make it to your brain. You entire focus was on the mask dangling uselessly in her hands. You looked up, locked eyes with the girl, and took a few steps forward.

Faster than you could blink, their laughter ceased and was replaced with their smirks again.

“Ah, ah, ah! You stay right there.” The girl tutted. “Or you won’t be getting this back anytime soon.”

Your eyes widened and your gestured to your chest and mouth. This ‘prank’ had gone too far and if you didn’t get that pack back fast- the thought just about bright tears to your eyes.

Ignoring their orders, you frantically rushed forward again and took a swing for the pack. You could feel the need to gasp for air rise; your time was running out.

“You stay in your place, tawtute” The boy snarled. He ducked behind you and looped his arms through the back of your elbows, holding you tight to his body.

You thrashed hard in his hold and clawed at any patch of skin you could reach but it was no use. He towered over you and easily trumped you in strength. At this point, you had as much hope as you did air in your lungs.

You could feel your chest burn and your heart pound. If you gave in and took a breath of the pandoran air, it would only end things faster.

By Eywa, this was such a pathetic way to die.

“Poor thing, do you want this back? Should I just give it to you?”

There was no point in answering, you just tried to plead as best as you could without words.

“Just breathe, man! C’mon just a little breath.” The boy behind you taunted.

They laughed and laughed and laughed. It bled into your ears.

Resigned to your fate, you stopped thrashing, closed your eyes, and let out the breath you had desperately been holding. And inhaled.

You probably looked like a fish out of water, gaping and gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. The painful throb began in your temples racked up tenfold and the burning pain in your chest felt like an inferno. The teens behind you laughed and hollered and finally realised their grip on you.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you heard the crack of your exopack hitting a rock nearby. Though, through your puffs and wheezes you could barely hair it anyway.

Your eyes fluttered and your jaw slackened. When did their jeers become so far away? And…had eclipse begun already? Delirious wonderings filled your head as your eyes rolled back into your head.

-

The first thing that returned to you was your hearing, and the first thing you heard was…begging? Albeit it was punctuated by a dreadful ringing.

It was like a whisper at first, almost like you had been plunged underwater. And whoever was on the surface was desperate to bring you back up again.

A hand slid behind your neck and lifted it slightly, slipping a strap over head. Something was pressed to your face and suddenly breathing came much easier.

As you came to you started gulping down the air and your eyes flitted open. Ah, so that was the source of the whisper-screams. You had completely forgotten about him. About Neteyam.

“-n? Yn?!” Since when were his hands on your face?

You had been rested on your back, head propped up against something hard and uncomfortable, and another exopack sat secured on your face. Confused, you brought a hand up and tapped the mask in question, not trusting your vocal chords.

Neteyam, however, looked far too frazzled to answer your questions plainly. He was sat beside you, knees in-line with your chest and his upper half leaning over you. The size difference between the two of you was apparent constantly but having him towered over you like this made you feel especially small.

“W-when I came back I couldn’t see you anywhere but then I saw your exopack on the ground,” He rambled. Concern creased his face and oh, how you wanted to smooth every wrinkle.

His rambles continued, “I ran into Norm on the w-way back and he said you forgot to grab your spare. So I grabbed it and you’re lucky I did!” You frowned; aren’t people supposed to be nice to you when you’ve hurt yourself? Why were you being scolded?

Neteyam must have noticed your pouty expressions because berating came to a halt.

“I was so worried about you…” His hand stroked your head and he frowned even harder. “What happened?”

As you recounted your story, you felt as tears welled up in your eyes once more. A dark shade settled in Neteyam’s eyes, his frown turned into a scowl.

You’re eased up against a stump of a tree and the boy takes your hand in both of hit firmly.

He looked into your eyes with a determination lit up in his.

“Yn, I swear to you that I will find who did this. They won’t go without punishment. I’ll have my dad see to it if I have to.” His fingers squeezed yours and your lips quirked despite yourself.

“I knew you would come and find me. Deep down, I knew you would.”

The resolute gleam in his eyes softened before he said, “I will always find you. No matter where you are, I will always get you back to me”.

a/n: I rushed the ending a lil but I just reallyyyy wanted this done 😍

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly

When she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the cutest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

#avatar #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #my mighty warrior <3 #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader

[milkytheholy1]

It's my favourite colour

Request: I don’t really know if your ask box isnopen so I really hope it is.

could I maybe ask for a rise Donnie x reader (female is preferable but Gender neutral is alright with me) where the reader’s favorite color is purple and she always wears it. Then one day she’s sitting in the lab with Donnie when he can’t stop staring and eventually the reader makes a joke like: “what? You wanna kiss me or smth?” And he just takes it seriously and nods.

I dunno. Brain doing brain things.

----------------------------------------------------------

The lair was oddly quiet to say it was so close to the weekend, while the two days off didn't really mean anything to the turtles, it meant a lot to you and April. Those two days would give you a break from school and work, allowing you to chill out at home and in the lair with the boys.

Speaking of which, you couldn't see any of the turtle brothers as you entered their underground home, which was weird, to say the least. Your black detective coat hung around your form, protecting your insides from the cold blizzards up above. The edges of the coat swayed romantically as you stalked around the lair; assuming the teens to be pulling another prank on you.

However, no prank came. They were simply nowhere in sight, not even Splinter or Draxum were around. But the tell-tale sound of machine parts roaring in the distance alerted you to where one turtle could be; your favourite turtle too. You skipped towards Donnie's lab, you had actually been meaning to talk to the turtle, you drastically needed someone to reread your English paper and Donnie was just the guy.

Walking into the wide metal doors, the smell of oil and burnt iron invaded your senses. Over in the corner of the room, with his shell facing towards you, was Donnie. 

"Hey, D." you beamed, already giddy by his presence. You strolled up to his side, watching as he tinkered with parts you couldn't even name, "Greetings," was all he said. You looked around the expansive lab, searching for something specific in mind, "If you're looking for your chair, it's over by Shelldon." Donnie stated, not even looking away from his project. 

You blushed, he knew you so well or were you just becoming predictable. Patting Shelldon's lifeless head, you picked the chair up, knowing better than to drag it across the floor. Once it was perched not too closely to Donnie's side, you shimmied off your coat and draped it across the back of your seat. 

Donnie gave you a side eye, studying yet another purple outfit. Did you know how much you were killing him by wearing his colour? Did you even know what it was doing to him? You had been wearing purple all week, coming down in extremely fashionable outfits that all followed the central theme of purple.

It's like you were playing some game, a very sick and sadistic little game. But Donnie couldn't help to swoon over your accidental actions too, well he assumed they were accidental. He knew you shared a similar interest in the colour purple, but at the same time, he never knew one person besides himself could own this much purple fabric.

"What're you looking at?" you mumbled, dusting off some lingering fur that lined the inside of your coat. Donnie stuttered, flailing the small drill in his hands around, "N-nothing, absolutely nothing!" You quirked a brow at his behaviour, you know someone doesn't just stare at you if they didn't have anything to say.

"Oh, ok." Donnie relented, he placed down the drill, still trying to act aloof, "You- you look good in purple, I've seen you around the lair wearing that colour, my colour, all week." you remained quiet, unsure what this meant. Was Donnie trying to make a move on you or monopolise the colour purple?

"W- thank you, I think purple looks good on you too." you hummed, priding yourself on seeing his cheeks deepen in colour. It was like Donnie had been shot by Cupid's arrow, his eyelids had drooped, his smile had become wobbly and his sighs became louder. He was totally, utterly, stupidly in love with you. 

"What?" you threw out a nervous giggle, your own cheeks turning rosy at the look he was giving you; full of care and warmth. You pulled at the sleeves of your shirt, fingers fumbling to distract the onslaught of nerves that took over your mind, "You wanna kiss me or something?" it was meant to be a joke, something to pull you away from the glistening pool in his eyes.

But when Donnie just nodded along, completely at ease with the reality of the situation, you felt your brain stutter. With wide eyes, you pointed a shaking finger at yourself, "Wait, really? With me?" you questioned. Donnie held back a laugh, but the notorious smirk he was known for graced his lips, "I believe I do, w-would you like to do...that with me?"

He wished he could have said something sweeter than that, but thoughts about feelings and actually feeling feelings weren't really his thing; not that he really tried to make it his thing either. 

Fortunately, you recreated his previous actions and shook your head rapidly. Donnie's dopey grin grew larger in size, his cheeks stinging with just how much he was smiling. You both leant forward, perhaps too eager as you hit your foreheads together. But with the awkward laugh aside, you eventually melted into each other with ease. 

"Hey, D, we're bac- WHOA!" Leon gasped, the pizza box in his hands dropped to the floor, "Oh ho hooo," he began laughing, not really caring that this was a very private moment for his brainiac twin brother. Donnie yelled at him, throwing random nuts and bolts until Leo fled the scene. Though he did poke his head back in to deliver one more line, "If you dress up in blue all week will you kiss me too?"

"LEO!"

#fandom #fan #fanfiction #fanfic #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #donnie tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello