#without fail i hate my old drawings so now i expect to hate my drawings in general

[moodymisty]

The words “blood hungry Sanguinius” in your announcement post activated all of my neurons at once. Anyway request time, lemme lay the scene. Sanguinius is in an established relationship, she’s a diplomat or his seneschal, somebody of great importance to him both personally and professionally. The planet they’re currently Crusading™ has put up enough of a fight to be troublesome but peace talks are finally happening, which our dear angel’s beloved is the head of. Except not everybody wants peace. Sanguinius has been waging war on this planet, not everybody is gonna be a fan but people also aren’t stupid enough to just pick a direct fight with the 10ft tall dude who could chuck a spear into space. So they aim smaller, where they know it’ll still hurt. An assassination attempt is made on his beloved. It fails, mind you, but it was too close for comfort. She was hurt and suddenly the great angel isn’t feeling so angelic. He wants cathartic visceral payback and his sons couldn’t agree more. Now that kind of adrenaline-fueled murder rampage will get anybody’s blood pumping so once he gets back he’s headed straight for their room. Obviously he’s relieved that she’s fine, patched up and everything at this point but she still smells like blood and sweat and he just desperately needs to know she’s okay. Needs to hear her voice crying out for him rather than in pain, feel her pulse against his lips. Needs to lick the blood off her. It’s precious after all, he’d hate for it to go to waste (and crucially of course he has to erase the traces of that attack, only he is allowed to draw blood from his beloved, nobody else gets to do that and live)

Do with these brain worms what you will, Misty. Go nuts ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Thank you for the fucking FOOD, friend. I hope you enjoy it, I tweaked a tiny bit just to make it flow better in my head because it was going to keep getting longer if I didn’t stop send help

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, semi-graphic depictions of violence in the beginning, Blood drinking/licking/vampirey stuff, fingering, If you squinted you could consider this dubious consent because making out after a near death experience probably isn’t the best trauma response but it’s 40k so whatever, Slightly Yandere Sanguinus also to be honest

Sanguinus lets his perfect veneer fade for a moment, as he drifts off into thought. Tactical planning and logistics fade into the background, but Sanguinus can still comprehend it all and join back in a moment without anyone noticing.

She’s asleep right now, oh how I wish I could join her.

After a tense few weeks of failed diplomacy and eventual war, you needed rest; While Sanguinus needs such a thing much more rarely, he still wishes to join you. This whole debacle has been little more than aggravating to him.

While he is used to waging war like this, he knows you took this failed diplomacy as a failure for yourself. You’re still new to this, he knows it’ll fade with time but he wishes he could at least comfort you for a little while.

Though, this whole crusade has been less than what you all expected. Fierce electrical storms have made teleporting or even using Thunderhawks or smaller landers from the Red Tear to planet-side dangerous, so they’ve set up temporary base on solid ground while the war effort continues.

He hates the feeling of it; The nature of it being less secure. He knows you’re surrounded by Astartes, but these walls are old and they don’t know the landscape, or if this old fortress has anywhere to hide. This isn't their home territory, the safety of the cold, metal walls of the Red Tear and it's sister ship-

The door suddenly barges open, and in rush two blood Angels who's armor screeches as they freeze to a halt. It manages to startle Sanguinius somewhat, as his wings shift close to his body.

“Lord Sanguinus! Someone is attacking Our Lady!”

The sentence brings him to high alert even before they finish speaking and he’s already pushing past them to make his way towards you. He barely even notices the title they used for you, one that has only been said a handful of times as they slowly became used to your presence beside him.

Sanguinus is out of his armor at the moment, a rare time for him to stretch his wings and back after being in it for nearly a week straight, and the lessened weight makes his strides even faster as he races to you. His wings are tight to his body to avoid hitting anything or catching drag, and he hears the sound of bolters and ceramite plates crashing into weaker armor. He had them guarding the room at all hours, and as such was able to get alerted to the assassins- he assumes by their dark regalia and deftness- instantly.

“I want at least one alive! I want to know how they got past our perimeter!”

The first intruder he catches sight of has their shoulder blown away by a bolter shell before they could comprehend Sanguinus’ orders, and the second gets grabbed by an Astartes and yells in pain at the audible crack of bone. The third Sanguinus notices behind him and he batters him with the end of his wing, and an Astartes manages to obtain him by grabbing his neck. No matter how skilled they were, they stand absolutely no match to his sons. Even their advantage of surprise offered them nothing in the end.

Sanguinius eventually snags the last one and hands the wretch to his sons, and the lot are carried away.

They might be alive now, but once Sanguinus gets what he wants from them, they’ll wish they weren’t. Especially after he looks towards you.

Your sitting on the floor leaned against the wall, arms tight to yourself. He can see your thin nightdress is stained with blood at the neckline, and your arms also have small bits of blood. Your cheek has a small gash that’s growing a bruise around it, like it’s from a punch or slap.

You have an Astartes combat knife in your hands, blood soaking the blade. He knows you put up a fight despite the odds. It was probably you that alerted his sons.

He can hear them communicating amongst themselves, making sure the room and perimeter are clear. The assassins are removed and will probably get prodded around in by a curious techpriest in the future. He knew that a forward base such as this was a dangerous idea, and this only further cements it. Despite the meteorological issues.

Though his thoughts are on less immediate things, now that he knows you’re safe. His clears his throat slightly but the motion does nothing to distract him.

Something Sanguinius had learned in his younger years was that all blood is different; In taste, smell. Some of it is superior to others in those ways.

As while the room is soaked in blood, he can only smell yours.

“All of you check everywhere for any others. Leave us alone unless I call.”

The Blood Angels present hesitate to move, and their lieutenant speaks why. His helmet rests in his hands.

“Should we not stay to keep you both-“ Sanguinus turns to him and his voice is firm and unwavering.

“Go.”

The captain almost seems surprised, before placing his helmet back on. His men dip their heads for a moment and leave, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

The Primarch comes closer, lowering to his knee in front of you.

“You’re not hurt?” His hands grasp your shoulders, and you shake your head.

“No. Not badly enough to complain about at least.” Sanguinus lets out an audible sigh of relief.

He moves to let you stand, offering a hand you take for a moment. You move away to look into a mirror and splash some water on your face, wiping the blood away from it. It does nothing to cut the scent overwhelming the air that only he can parse.

“I’ve sent them to figure out how those men got in, and if there’s more.” You look up at him, before bending down to pick up one of his fallen feathers. He lost a few in the battle, as he does all the time. The Red Tear also has many strewn about in the places he frequents. You hold it in your hand and brush along the quill shaft, smoothing it. It’s a habit you’ve developed.

“Shouldn’t you go with them?” Sanguinus furrows his brow, confused.

“I want to stay with you, so I know you’re safe. And that you feel safe.”

The way you look up at him is worried; What could you possibly be worried about right now besides yourself? You were the one who was almost killed, because he was ignorant enough to bring you here, selfish because of his desire to keep you at his side. He kneels close to you, and tries to hold his breath as his mouth waters.

“What is it, my love?”

You look at him and continue holding his feather, seeing the way his eyes leer at you. You’ve seen it before, and it’s obvious why.

“Sanguinus, you’re hungry.”

How well you already know him, even after such a short period of time.

He gently cups a hand to the side of your face, before leaning inward.

“I’m sorry my love, I can’t help it, you’re like my own personal wine.”

His lips brush across your own, and he can suddenly taste the tiny droplet of blood from where your lip had split. You eagerly return his kiss and the desperation has you gripping him like a lifeline, as if your mind is finally catching up with what’s happened. He eagerly holds you back, his massive hands cupping your waist and swallowing most of it.

Before you know it, he has you in his arms, and he gently drops you onto the bed. It creaks and groans under the weight of him, but you’re little more than a feather to it.

He can see the cut across your collarbone; They must’ve tried to put a knife to your throat, and cut along below it instead. Your heart beat rushes just underneath it.

“Let me help you forget all of this ever happened,”

He whispers, half lost on the smell of your blood. You still feel almost stunned, like everything is a dream, but you’d never refuse him with how safe you always feel in his arms.

Sanguinus’ hands drift up your nightdress until it’s off of you, the stained fabric getting tossed aside.

He leans down to drag his lips along the cut of your collarbone, tongue sweeping away any traces of blood. The droplets that ran down your sternum get wisked away as well, his tongue traveling between your breasts.

He would hate to see it be wasted. The ones who spilled it and attempted to do worse will spill their secrets, and suffer for what they’ve done.

He’ll keep his head turned if they end up bloodless as well. His sons can sate their appetites on them and he’ll mind little.

Meanwhile you writhe underneath him, a hand on your shoulder holding you down while the other presses down close to your hip. Your free hand grasps at him, nails digging into his skin. He hears you saying his name, whispering it like a prayer, but he can barely hear it over the sound of your heart in his ears.

He can stay under control, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t test his willpower.

He loves to call you his wine; Though in some ways it’s almost as if you’re a drug he can never allow himself to have too much of, lest he get lost in it.

His left hand drifts closer and brushes over your hip, his massive palm dwarfing your smaller body. His fingers push between your thighs with ease, and he slips his fingers into your folds and hears the way you whimper at the soft touch. It isn’t long before they press against your entrance and slowly he teases one inside, before slipping in another once he’s readied you enough for it.

He feels the heat of your body as he presses his hand against you, all the while his face never leaves your neck. It’s an awkward angle for him at his overwhelming height, but he makes it work. His teeth ever so gently scrape across the pulsing vein of your neck where old scars from him lie, and he feels the way you shiver.

His fingers curl inside of you as his lips press hard against your neck, tasting every last little bit of blood until your skin is clear apart from the thin sliver of red.

He leans away and presses his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his own. The cut on your lip had just stopped bleeding but his rougher kiss aggregates it enough to make it bleed just a tiny bit more, and you moan into his mouth as he tastes it.

Your hand desperately grasps at his own pressing against your shoulder, trying to grip his fingers and keep you grounded. He loves the way you writhe underneath him, earlier events completely forgotten.

He pulls way from your lips with a soft pop and his hot breath returns to your neck.

He wants to bite it so badly. It’s tormenting him, eating at him. But then he feels when he finally reach your peak, tightening around him and crying out to him in pleasure and not pain. It’s like music to his ears, after hearing your heart race so much in fear barely hours ago. To hear you call his name not to save you but to have him make you feel like this.

He pulls his lips away from your neck as you catch your breath. Another time.

His wings droop slightly, though even folded they take up so much space, shadowing so much more than just your body. They drop even more, and it almost feels like he’s trying to surround you with them and his body.

He gently pulls his hand from your folds but you feel his finger brush against your inner thigh, and the corners of his mouth twitch as you shiver and tense.

“I will never allow your life to ever be threatened again,”

He says, a part inside of him fuming at the fact it happened to begin with. He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous, careless, though deeper down he knows he did everything he could. He’ll do more now. His sons are becoming used to you, accepting of you, they’ll do it with no complaints.

You look up at him with soft, shining skin; Lips swollen. He wishes he could stay for longer, and take advantage of his time without his armor.

“Just don’t worry yourself into dropping feathers,” You joke and smile, voice slightly hoarse. He can still hear your heartbeat racing in his ears, but it’s calming down as you lay underneath him.

Sanguinus laughs and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. He swallows down his only partly sated hunger for another time.

“I’ll try not to.”

#Sanguinus x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[piratefishmama]

I got tagged in a questions thingy.

by: @w1ll0wtr33  thanks sweets!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope, my name was in fact a mistake made by a nurse! It was supposed to be a hyphenated combination of my first and middle name, but the person doing the birth certificate made an error.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Like… fully? Uhm. August? The day before my dad got out of the hospital I had a full blown panic attack cause I knew I’d be alone in taking care of his asshole self and wasn’t prepared to do that. There was crying involved in that.

3. do you have kids?

I would sooner rip my own uterus and womb out, Netflix Witcher style than have children.

Storytime: My mum once bought me a £75 stroller and doll, an this was years ago, like, single digits age range so that was EXPENSIVE for the time (fuck man, it’s expensive now lmao), I… left it out as far away from the house as I, at my age, could... in the rain. An it was all silk and satin material so it was well and truly fucked.

They stopped expecting eventual grandchildren from me very early on in my life.

4. What sports do you/have you play/played?

Does archery count? I feel like archery should count lmao I do archery, and I used to do ju-jitsu, I have medals somewhere for ju-jitsu, god knows where though my medals were never worth keeping track of apparently. My brother's are in his old room.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Fluently.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

That they’ve invaded my carefully curated alone time and thus have become my enemy.

7. what’s your eye colour?

Hazel, with more green than brown.

They're also my favourite eye colour too! there’s so many variations of it, do you have more green or brown in it? is there a ring of darker colour around your iris or not? Hazel has so many variations it’s such a pretty eye colour to have and it changes. Hazel eyes are magic.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Thanks to my truly stellar vivid imagination and Childhood Trauma™️, I cannot watch scary movies. At least not ones that have plausibility. Like they could happen. Because for some reason, everytime I watch one of those, my brain ever so lovingly decides to recreate the movie in the form of a nightmare where all the starring cast are people I actually care about an I’m just. watching them all die.

It's never fun. And I can never escape it. Even waking up, if I go to sleep, I will go right back into that nightmare, there’s no escape.

9. any talents?

Many! i have ADHD and autism, I have so many random skills. The only one I can reliably do on command though is writing. I can draw, paint, sew, sing, dance, and many others… sometimes, but the only one I can reliably do without fail, is write.

10. where were you born?

Britain. You don’t get closer than that I ain’t about to dox myself.

11. what are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, video games, creating shit.

12. do you have any pets?

Hope and Shadow are my two dogs, you all know them by now I’m sure. I have a shitton of tropical fish in tanks both upstairs and down, I did have a very smol bird but I had to put him up for adoption as unfortunately he and Hope simply did not get along, she made him very anxious and he made her hungry for bird.

13. how tall are you?

I’m tiny, 4’11.

14. favourite subject in school?

English. I had a great teacher. It would have been art but unfortunately I hated my teacher, and my teacher hated me and that made the lessons very uncomfortable.

15. dream job?

I would love to work with animals. Animals are easier than people.

And no, i'm not tagging people.

#tag games #personal

[persage]

Can't Say It Back-S. HARRINGTON

Summary: At eighteen, Steve Harrington has learned how to really love someone. That someone it's not you. At nineteen, Steve Harrington breaks your heart and this time you hope it will be the last (six moments that led to this)

Words Count: 4k

Tags: Mentions of dyslexic!Steve - Set before Season 4 (currently thinking about doing a part 2)

Seven years old Steve Harrington has big brown eyes, a beautiful backpack and finally his first friend: Y/n Cunnigham. Tommy doesn't count, he is more like family and neither does his babysitter Becca, even if he really really loves her. He has discovered his mum pays her to be with him and that doesn't sound like something a friend should do. But Y/n, she's brand new. You sit next to him at school and compliment him when he does every stupid little thing. You help him when he can't write something correctly cause you are clever and play with him even if you don't like basketball. That makes him happier than ever. He shares his box of crayons with you 'cause he likes the way you draw and sometimes he steals jewels from his mom and gives them to you. Steve doesn't read  well, sometimes words and letters just don't make sense him, they all mix with each other and it's a mess. When he has to read in class, you hold his hand so he doesn't give up.

Nine years old Steve Harrington sits next to someone else even if you keep waiting for him. "You're finally with the cool ones Harrington." Tommy says. Steve looks you in the eye intensely before laughing. You get mad and you hate him, 'cause you know him well enough to recognize that he is just pretending to be someone else and you are clever enough to understand that he grew up before you, even if it's not fair, even if it's too early. In class now he doesn't even try to read aloud anymore, Tommy and the others would make fun of him and you're not there to hold his hand.

At eleven you and Steve share math class. He is no good with numbers and so are you. You pass your time drawing as he looks around laughing with his friend. You both need help from a tutor to pass every test and have this obsession with math being useless, something invented just to make some people feel better then others. That's the only thing you have in common lately. So your professor pairs you up, assigns you more homeworks and somehow expects you to just magically get along and help each other. And you try, 'cause at least you undestand something about numbers, you just don't like studying them. "You're doing it wrong, you need to do the calculations in parentheses first." 

"You're not my boss y/n. " 

"I'm not trying to be. It's just math Harrington... and you are doing it wrong." On opposite sides of the same table, you keep working on your assignment and he won't give you a red pen, even if he has one that he doesn't need. So you laugh when you see him fail again. "Yeah...it's math and you suck too at it." He replies without even looking at you, eyebrows arched in an angry.and maybe at least a little bit - hurt expression. "But you suck more". He pauses, finally his eyes are on you and you think he is ugly and stupid, like every other boy your age. "Sorry" He murmurs, smiling lightly. Now he is not that ugly anymore. You shrug. "It's fine."

"You were right" He confesses. "I'm doing it wrong." 

"I know, Steve." You reply, proudly. "You're not stupid, why are you here?" He asks. You look at him bewildered. "And why are you?"  

"Because I'm stupid, Y/n." You would like to tell him that it is not true, that you don't like hearing these things. That he is intelligent, it's the others who don't know how to explain things to him in the right way. Instead you sit in heavy silence, flipping through pages of your book, cause in the end he still hasn't give you the red pen and he doesn't share his crayons with you anymore just like he doesn't share anything else.

At thirteen you are Steve Harrington's first kiss, even if it doesn't count cause it's just a stupid game at stupid Tommy Hagan's birthday party and you've complained from the moment the bottle of destiny - as Carol calls it- has chosen you two. "It's Harrington." You protest putting on a disgusted expression, because deep down you don't want anyone to see your embarrassment or the blush on your cheeks and you're terrified that your heartbeat could be heard even at distance. "I really have to do this? "

"Believe me, I don't want to kiss you either Cunnigham. There are way prettier girl in this room" You roll your eyes and he notices you do this a lot when he is around. "I'm not kissing him." You state. He is even uglier now, with little hairs on the chin and under the nose that he likes to call a beard. "It's a game Y/n you have to follow the rules" Tommy intervenes. "Not everyone knows how to play fair" Harrington comments. His words sound like a challenge, his face morphs into a grin and -again- you hate him. All eyes are on you and your friends are taking bets. Your eyes flit down to his lips for just one moment, then you get closer and he can't really believe this is actually happening. He waits for you to take a step back untill he can feel you hot breath on his own mouth. He keeps staring right past your shoulder where Tommy is laughing hard, He is afraid he will lose himself if his eyes met yours and then everybody would understand the horrible truth: Steve Harrington wants to kiss Y/n Cunnigham. Your lips meet without even realizing, a bit hesitant but soft. It's chaste, a simple touch of wet lips, steady hands, open eyes yet it's everything you've ever dreamed of, a stupid boy kissing you without even wanting to. None of this should matter, but...the boy is Steve Harrington of all the people, so you care. 

At sixteen, Tina has organized the most amazing birthday party: a camping night in the woods with tends and wine, cans of beer, music and even a bonfire. It's something you've never done before and you are way too excited. It's been a good day so far and for once in your life you want to do something wrong. More than usual. When Tina offers you a cup full of cheap wine, you drink it all in one sip and immediately fill another glass only to throw that down perhaps too quickly.  "Don't we have something stronger? " You ask. A guy you don't know makes you some fruity drink and the two of you stand close, he caress your hand as you take your cup with a loose smile. From faraway, behind the bonfire's flames, Steve Harrington smiles at you, raised eyebrow. It's stupid but it makes your heart stops and you suddenly feel warm. He his not the same as the kid you've kissed once, he is grown and it's no a coincidence that they call him King Steve now. He is the most charming boy at school, funny, handome, cool and you can't help but feel something for him, you can't even find a name for that emotion. It's an old affection and a stubborn bitterness, cause somewhere along the way you lost him and now you can only be a little part of his life when you used to be his all world. Everyone is talking too loudly,  breathing in smoke, singing, dancing. People start slipping away slowly, disappearing in pairs or groups, holding hand or already kissing like nobody else is there. He moves closer to you. King Steve sees you alone, sitting there, and when you feel his body so near you pull your gaze away from the campfire and focus on him, the way the light defines the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, and the highpoints of his cheeks. He's perfect. "You shouldn't be here all alone Cunnigham. It's a party"

"I'm partying" You reply, showing him you cup full of alcohol. "What a funny girl, life of the party" He is sarcastic, and you know it, but you still smile. "I am, just not with everyone. Not everybody deserves me"

"Guess who'll be lucky enough."

"Not you, Harrington." He shakes his head, takes your cup and drink it all. He needs liquid courage, you stir him un and he can't help but feel this need of being near you and it had hirt him for so long it's driving him insane yet he never manages to really be with you, he just stand there somewhere between your friends. You go out with the same people and in the same places, but maybe that's not enough for him anymore. He laughs. "Obviously, you hate me."

"You've dumped me"You reply, hiding your smile. "I was nine, Y/n"

"Still haven't heard you say sorry." You get closer, blinking and putting on a puppy expression. "Sorry, really, I didn't mean to broke your tiny baby heart" He moves is hands dramatically and it's funny,  it feels so right to be with him, to play together like children. "Mhh seven years late Stevie boy" After an embarrassing silence, you dedice to ask what you've been secretly questioning all night. "So where's Paula?" You know, just like everybody, that Steve Harrington doesn't have real releshionships, but still you wanna hear it with you ears. You wanna hear that the girl he's been seen kissing at the cinema it's nothing more than one of the many. It's stupid, maybe even bad, not feminist at all but... You can't help but feel that way. And you are way to drunk to be ethical. "I don't know, I don't care... She's not really my problem. "

"And that means...?" Steve rolls his eyes, leaning a little too close to you. "I think you know what that means, Y/n. You know me" He pauses, staring at you. "I don't know you Steve. I know the child Steve Harrington, not King Steve."

"It's not that different. "

"It is, like a lot" You breathe out, the air around you has never felt warmer, Steve Harrington never as unfamiliar as he is now. "I'm still him, the same boy who adored you." His eyes scan your face, they are everywhere, following imaginary roads on your skin and you lean on, your nose touching.  You feel like you're floating somewhere between a memory and a dream. "You're such a good liar Harrington." So you kiss him, lips on his, as you smile. You move away before he can reciprocate. "Y/n, what are you doing?" He is breathless, confused and excited. "Nothing"  You reply, laughing. He lets his fingers help through your hair, grab your head and gently brings you closer to him again. "I enjoy this nothing"

At eighteen, Steve Harrington has learned how to really love someone. That someone it's not you. And you are not really surprised cause it's always been so difficult between you two, bad timing and complications, silence and pride. So, eighteen years old Steve Harrington who knows how to love someone else - the most perfect girl in the whole universe if that makes it any better - it's your first time among the other things. And even if the premises are not the best, to tell the truth you could not imagine someone else in his place. He shows up at your door one day in  the November of your senior year of high school. His face is swollen, his skin marked by blows, bruised he looks like someone who hasn't slept for too long. He rings at your door, regardless of the possibility that your parents will open, but luckily you are the one to do it. "Oh my god" Is all you can say. "Steve." You whisper, your hands shake, you place fingers on his warm skin. You haven't really spoken to each other from your kiss, nothing more than superficial conversations from acquaintances and no reference to your situation, of any kind. You are friends, perhaps and now he is in your home. He moves his head even closer to you, like a cat. "What happened to you?" You are scared. He looks at you for a while as if he is thinking about what to tell you or how to do it. "Nothing special, just a bad encounter with Hargrove"

"That bastard."

"Don't worry, really. I don't even know why I'm here"

As he's sitting on your bed he tells you about Billy's threats to Lucas and that he got beaten up for those kids, you have the feeling that something is missing, a piece of the story, but you say nothing and you keep applying ice to his wounds. "I wasn't the hero they needed ... Max had to think about it in the end" "Steve, Lucas would probably be in hospital if you weren't there. You're their hero, heroes don't always win ... Especially when bad guys smash a plate in their head." He puts his hand on yours and strokes you with his thumb, leaving you speechless and breathless. You don't know what's going on, you just know you don't want to be anywhere else. "I don't know what to do without you" You close your eyes, trying to calm your heart before making reckless gestures. "Steve" Your voice is thin. "What are you doing here?" You ask "I needed to see you ... I didn't want ... To be alone" He confesses, sincerely, letting his fingers run down your neck.

"Why me Steve? You should be with her ... Nancy"

"We broke up" he replies, you see a flash of suffering pass in his eyes but you decide to ignore it. "I'm sorry"

"But I'm here because I wanted to be here, with you. Not because we broke up. "

It makes your heart flutter You shouldn't care, this is all wrong, yet you want to pretend for a moment that you are different people entirely. He is not Steve, not Nancy Wheeler's ex boyfriend, not you childhood friend. His lips are on you neck. His lips are on your lips. He's breathing out your name like it's his religion. His warm skin against yours all that matters now.

"Are you s.. " He starts, breathless, his eyes flitting up and down your face, to your lips, always back to your lips. "I'm sure. I am " You cut in, gently. He leans in again and you do the same and God, you think while he undo your bra, his expert mouth kisses your breast  and plays with your nipples. It's Steve Harrington, its always been Steve Harrington.

Nineteen years old y/n Cunningham says I love to a guy who can't say it back. You are back from college, on vacation you tell people, never going back you think. You always thought you know what you want, what you can do, who you want to be. But here you are, back at Howinks, lost and absolutely not ready to face your ex. You and Steve have been together for a short period after your first time, but again bad timing and too much insecurities made your relationship a living hell.

You had to go to college, he wasn't even accepted. Obviously it wasn't a problem for you. It was for him. "You deserve someone better" He'd whispered before letting you go, kissing tears away from your cheeks. You meet him again on your birthday, you have been in town for a few days and you decide to go and see the new shopping center, Starcourt mall, with your little sister Chrissy. Harrington wears a ridiculous uniform and despite this you can't help but find him handsome and sweet, you have to count to ten to not rush to hug him. He walks towards the parking  next to a girl, dressed exactly like him. You've seen her a few times at school. He looks at her with admiration, Dustin is with them and he laughs with her.  You can't help but feel your heart breaking. "Sorry I forgot to tell you, he works here." You don't reply and try to hide before they see you. "Y/n" Dustin's voice surprises you. It's too late. With a quick run Steve reaches you while you walk away. "Y/n wait!" You turn to him, trying to smile.

"Hey, Steve. How are you?"

"You're back" His voice is soft, he's studying you carefully. "Just for a little while" You hide your shaking hands behind your back. "Now I have to go" You tell him, running away before he can see you cry.

It happens a few days later. News of the Starcourt fire spreads in Hawkins quickly. And so you run and run, the car doesn't even seem to go fast enough. When you arrive, ambulances are everywhere and you can't see Steve. Filled with panic, your eyes shoot around the parking lot, gaining a worried glance from Steve's coworker who's sitting in the back of a truck. You keep looking around for any sign of the boy, your stomach churns as you begin to think of every possible thing that could've happened to him, tears begin to pool in your eyes. The girl who works with Steve places a hand on your shoulder, "Y/n?" You turn to face her. "You..."

"Yes, of course I know you. Steve talks a lot about you." She says. She'a mess, she's got bruises on her face and arms and she seems like about to break down, so you put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it lightly to comfort her. "Are you okay...?"

"Robin, I'm Robin and yes, thank you. I'm okay, we all are" You smile, keep searching for Steve. You need to see him, to know if he really is okay. "Looking for somebody?" You can't bring yourself to answer, but it doesn't matter because Robin speaks up once again, "He is over there, see." Your head snaps forward, locking eyes with Steves. You run to him,  quick to close the remaining distance between you, wrapping your arms around his body. He lets out a quiet cry and circles his arms around your waist. "Sorry.. Sorry are you hurt?" You ask, your face buried in his chest. He shakes is head. "I'm okay" His voice is raught and he trembles

"I-I thought... "  You cry. "I'm fine I'm fine baby. Shit, I'm so glad you're here," He holds onto you tighter, almost as if he believes you would  disappear if he lets go even for a second. You don't know what has really happened or what he has seen but you do the same thing, feeling in the exact same way: like you almost lost him for real. A relieved sob escapes your mouth as he leans back to gaze at you, taking in every inch of you face. Now you can fully see him to. He has been beaten, no fire - nothing but human hands- can do such a terrible thing. His face is a mess. "What... Steve what is this?" 

"It's nothing." He replies, but his eyes are lost in a memory, distant and hurt. You caresses his damaged skin with all the delicacy and the dedication you have." Stop saying that Stevie, this is important. You are. Who did is to you? Fire don't do such things." He let's out a sob, the kind of sob so heart wrenching it hurts you to hear. He feel like he can't breathe, he can't focus on anything else besides the Russians beating him, the fear of dying and the fact he couldn't protect Robin and he have sold Dustin to them and they almost died cause he wasn't good enough to protect them. And its all hell and he can't tell you, cause he can't let you get involved with this shit. All he can smell is the blood, there's so much blood - his own, Hargrove's one, the flayed one. He doesn't really know - and smoke. He doesn't even realize how badly he's shaking until a steady and warm arm wraps around his shoulder again soon. You are the only thing that's keeping him calm. "It's okay. Y-You're okay." You his his forehead. He hugs and pull you closer, burying his head into your chest, tears and blood leaving stains on your shirt. "Stevie what happened?" You ask again. He shakes his head. "I don't wanna talk about it, not now." When he calms down you can't stop staring at him. He's right there in front of you and he is all you ever wanted, all you will ever need in life and you can't let him go, not again. "What" He finally says, a half laugh caught in his throat, a smile forming on his face. "I love you" You say simply, like it's this obvious thing. This easy thing. You love him. You love the fact that his eyes feel like summer and sun, everything about him shines like a million stars and he can make you laugh and show you a way of seeing things in life nobody else will ever think about. He looks at you in disbelief. "I love you too" That's what he wants to say. He has loved you since he was a stupid kid, and maybe you are the only one he has ever really loved. Not Nancy. Not Robin. He was searching for you in them, in the way they talk, in the way their brains work, in the intelligence and the way they never take him seriously. It never felt the same anyway. You love him and that's the most beautiful - heartbreaking- thing ever cause he can't say it back. He can't. He has one job: to protect you, the only way for keeping you away from all this mess is for you to be as far away as possible from this haunted city and from him. Even if it seems to be over and maybe they've really won this time... How can he be sure?  They always think they can live their happy ever after but then there's always a new monster, a new danger to fight. People've died, this time way more than the others. Innocent people like you, living their life as always, not stupid kids who've decided to play the hero against the Upside Down. Maybe if he tells you the truth you would be safer, he could protect you, and for a moment it seems to be a great option, but now you live miles and miles away and in his heart he knows he must let you go. Even if it kills him. So he doesn't say it back, he just kisses you, trying to impress in his memory the taste of you lips, the softness of your skin and the perfume of your hair. Tomorrow will be another day and he will do what is neded. He will push you away forever, he will make you hate him.

"You don't love me" You say slowly. carefully. You don't know what to say, you could have believed it maybe when you they were nine or thirteen, or even seventeen even, now, though,  you've been stupid enought to let yourself fall for a childish fantasy in which Steve Harrington acutally loved you. He blinks over you, trying to stop tears from coming. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry but I don't I... Care. But I don't love you... I'm in love with someone else." That's the most difficult thing he has ever done in his life.  He has to pretend, pretend like there's no possibility for the future, but  he doesn't want to live in a world where he doesn't need you.  "Robin?" You ask, shaking. He nods, cause he doesn't know what to do or say. You smile. "She seems pretty cool" You reply, sobbing. "For a moment... I thought you..."

"It was egoistic but I wanted her here and... I've settled for you cause you were there" You close your eyes and back out of his bedroom- where you have spent the night with him, taking care of his wounded body, watching his restless sleep, calming him down during nightmares - and you walk down the stairs. He doesn't follow you. At nineteen, Steve Harrington breaks your heart and this time you hope it will be the last.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things 4 #jim hopper #st4 #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #steve harrington x y/n #robin and steve #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #steve stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #Jim hopper #Angst #Hurt comfort #Stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson fanfic #reader insert

[evilphrog]

The Locked Tomb: A summary by someone who has never read the series

I asked my husband to finally sit down with me and explain this damn book series. Heavy spoilers below. Or maybe not. We will see.

Husband: Okay, so the main character is Gideon.  She is a redheaded lesbian and her –

Me: WAIT Gideon is a GIRL???  Why does everyone draw her looking like Crowley in a skull mask?

Him: Yeah, that’s pretty much what she looks like. SO, her long time crush/mortal enemy is named Harrowhark. Her parents were very worried their child wouldn’t be a necromancer, so they released a nerve gas that killed every child on their planet, and funneled their souls into Harrowhark.  Nobody except Harrowhark’s family knew why all the kids on the planet died.  Everyone else was so traumatized by it that they either left the planet or just never had kids again.  

Me:  Why did they want her to be a necromancer so bad?

Him: The fate of their planet depended on it.  Or maybe it didn’t.  Hard to say.  But Harrowhark was born, and was a very powerful necromancer, and –

Me: Why did Havok need to be the necromancer? 

Him: Harrowhark. Only necromancers can guard the locked tomb.  It can honestly only be opened by a god, so guarding it is a bit pointless, but that is the whole purpose of their society, and the whole reason they live on that planet at all.  

Me: Couldn’t they have just  waited to see if any of the other 200 kids became necromancers?

Him: Listen, her parents are not the best at planning.  We’ll get to that later.  So Gideon was the only child that survived, and as a result, Harrowkark’s parent’s HATED her.  Because they were scared of her.

Me: How did she survive? 

Him: That’s a bit unclear.  But when they were both ten, Harrowhark found out she has the souls of 200 dead children trapped in her body.  She decided to kill herself, so she went to go open the tomb.  And Gideon came along.

Me:To stop her?

Him: No.

Me: To kill herself also?

Him: Absolutely not.  Gideon likes being alive more than anything else.  She is a big fan of being alive.  

Me: SO then why did she go along with Harrowhawk?

Him: Harrowhark.  They are the only two children on the whole planet.  I think it just hadn’t occurred to either of them that they could be apart.  So Harrowhark was expecting to get killed by the necromantic traps around the tomb, but she was too powerful, and accidentally opened the tomb. 

Me: So is Havelhawk a god?

Him: Harrowhark.  No.  She is just a really good necromancer.

Me: Kind of seems like the tomb would have been safer without any necromancers at this point.

Him:  SOOO inside the tomb was a beautiful lady.

Me:  Is this the barbie doll?

Him: …Sort of?

Me: The one possessed by the spirit of earth?

Him:  The spirit of NATURE.  But the spirit escapes when the tomb is opened.

Me: Then where did the soul go?  Into Harkhawk? 

Him:  I feel like you’re doing this on purpose.  But MAYBE.  But the key here is that these are ten year olds, and they have no idea a soul escaped.  Or didn’t escape.  Hard to say.  But Harrowhark decides not to kill herself, and the girls rush back home.  Gideon confronts Harrowhark’s parents, and tells them everything they discovered about the murdered kids and opening the tomb.  The parents are distraught, because not only did they fail their one goal, but now everyone will know they murdered 200 children.  So they make a bunch of nooses, and they put one around Harrowhark’s neck.  And then they say they will all kill themselves together.  The parent’s jump, and hang themselves, but Harrowhark doesn’t.

Me: Wow, when you said they were bad at planning, you really meant it.

Him: Yeah.  But now Harrowhark blames Gideon for her parents’ deaths.  She is afraid if anyone finds out she is 200 dead children in a trenchcoat, they will kill her.  So she necromances her parents to be basically meat puppets, and tells Gideon she will kill her if she tells anyone else.   

Me:  That makes no sense.

Him: It does if you are ten years old.

Me: Okay, fair.  

Him:  So, it’s now seven years later,  and God has sent out a demand that one necromancer and their swordsman from each planet come to his home planet to be trained to become a super necromancer.  Harrowhark’s swordsman is a 40 year old man who loves poetry and hates swords.  He refuses to go with her, because it sounds like zero fun.  So Harrowhark asks Gideon to be her swordswoman instead.  Gideon refuses, so Harrowhark bribes her.  She offers to pay for her to become an officer in the army after she completes Super Necromancer training.  Gideon agrees, and they go off to train.  But there is a surprise twist!  At the end of training, John tells the necromancers that the – 

Me: WHo is John?

Him: God.

Me: God’s name is John?

Him: Yeah.

Me: Okay, fine.

Him: And he tells them the only way to become super necromancers is to kill their swordsman and eat their souls!

Me: Wow, what an asshole.  So does Harrock go through with it?

Him: Not at first, but then John tries to kill Harrowhark, and the only way Gideon can save her is by killing herself and force-feeding her soul down her throat.  

Me:  Because she is in love with her?

Him: Because she is in love with her.  

Me: So now Harlock has 201 souls inside her?

Him: 202.  Maybe.  Because the spirit of nature might be there also.  And it is hard to tell which soul is in charge.  So everyone is trying to ask her a bunch of questions to figure out who she is.

Me:  Why won’t she just tell them?

Him: She isn’t really sure herself.  It’s a bit crowded in there with over 200 souls.  She renames herself Nona, because she doesn’t want to be wrong about who she actually is.  But this is a big key.  The thing in the tomb WASN”T a barbie at all!  See, 2,000 years ago, God and the spirit of nature were in a battle.  God needed to lock her away, but he needed to give her a body first, so that he could lock it up.  But he took the barbie body, and the spirit of nature took his old body.  So technically, God is the barbie doll!

Me: John God the Barbie doll?

Him: Yes.  It was a minor detail, so I don’t know if the tumblr people are messing with you, or if they missed that.  But yes.  The beautiful lady in the tomb is God’s body. 

Me: So is John God pretty much just an evil necromancer that got too much power?

Him: Maybe?  But this points to a very crucial detail.  The way to become a Super Necromancer isn’t to eat the soul of your best friend at all!  It is to voluntarily swap bodies with them!

Me: OOOHHHH!  So then does Gideon end up having her soul put into God’s body now that nature is free and it’s just a spare?

Him: yes and no?

Me:  None of this makes any sense.  I’m just going to read it myself.  Then I will actually understand.

Him: That is very optimistic of you.  

#tlt #the locked tomb #best guesses #how did i do? #tlt spoilers

[shewritesinthethirdperson]

Personal ramble/vent under the cut. Feel free to scroll on.

I am so deeply unhappy and I don't know what to do about it. It feels like I'm locked into a cage in my own skin and I know that I have the key, but I don't know what it looks like or where it is. If I could just open my lips and speak, maybe I could say something that would make it better, but I can't. There's duct tape over my mouth and I can't peel it off. My hands are cuffed and I can't break free.

I want to be intimate. I want to love and be loved. I don't feel loved. I feel chastised and beat down. I'm told I'm not charming. I'm told I need to grow. I need to be more confident. I need to be better at conversation. I'm too self centered. I only talk about things I'm interested in. How can I be charming when I feel so small? How can I rise above when their is an ever-lowering ceiling above me? How can I not beat myself up when I'm constantly told I'm not good enough?

I don't know how to draw you in. I watch you passionately defend your colleagues. It brings tears to my eyes. I want to say something. I let the moment pass by. I didn't know how to say "I love the way you care about your co-workers." I never do until it's too late. I wish you defended me as passionately. Maybe you do, but it's not when I'm around.

I feel the silence stretch out. I know you expect me to say something. My mind empties out. It's cavernous in there. Ephemeral thoughts hover out beyond the ledge I cling to, but none of them are deep or surprising. I touch your hand to try to feel close. You hate when I touch you without speaking. I pull my hand away. I am alone on the ledge now.

I've been asked by people how I can be so confident. I used to say "you just gotta do things and see what happens. Deciding to go ahead and do the thing is half the battle." I am a hypocrite. Granted, this is usually in response to a hairstyle or particular fashion choice, and those really are easier. The confidence to be vulnerable... Much harder.

This is when words fail me. I fall back on old ways. Make yourself as small and invisible as possible. Appease appease appease. Its probably a good thing that you don't like it when I do that. I don't know how to stop. I avoid, I'm afraid to confront. Its ironic that I've been voted "most blunt" on more than one occasion, isn't it? Maybe it's because I didn't care then. It didn't really matter. Now... It does. I do care, I need to be accepted. I need to be supported. It's not support if all I feel are claws digging into my back.

#personal essay #rambles #Story Of My Life.

[wulfnerd]

Sterekdrabbles Challenges – April 2022

[Challenge Blog] [Tag] [AO3]

For 29/04 (group, smart, unite)

your air in my lungs, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles and Derek take advantage of their time alone.

Now He’s Mine, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek has a conversation with someone from his past.

For 29/04 (group, smart, unite; theme: Belief)

I am yours now, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles is found.

maybe you’re the one, sterek, m, 100w ◌ Derek’s happy to be proven wrong by Stiles. 

For 27/04 (type, library, brain)

Give Me a Lesson, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Mr Harris has assigned Derek a tutor. It’s not going to work out as expected.

Baby, It’s You, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek goes looking and is found instead.

For 27/04 (type, library, brain; theme: Belief)

Let Me Save You, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles helps Derek look for a way out.

Where are you?, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Stiles tries and fails to study.

For 25/04 (buzz, conscious, hospital)

this cannot be ignored (but we’ll try), sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles, for a moment, gives in.

haters do what they do, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Office life isn’t always good for a werewolf.

For 25/04 (buzz, conscious, hospital; theme: Belief)

chocolate and a boy with a buzz cut, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek waits for Laura and meets a boy.

wake up my love, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek deals with the results of the pack’s latest encounter.

For 22/04 (duck, puny, hall)

Nap Time, Please, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Stiles is hungry, so nap time it is.

In Daddy’s Footsteps, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Stiles is sipping his coffee when his husband and son get home.

Time to Play Pretend, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Stiles hates that his son has to learn a lesson in blending in.

objects in the mirror, sterek, t, 100w ◌ The transition from friends to more still catches Derek unaware. 

For 20/04 (beam, rot, clear)

questions and shirtless werewolves, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles has decided to ask the expert about his ideas to help Scott gain control.

the coming change versus the resistant werewolf, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek’s not sure he’s ready for Stiles.

good to be with you again, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek comes home; Stiles has made a small blunder.

oh good, you’re home, sterek, t, 100w ◌ It’s been a miserable week for Stiles without Derek there. 

For 18/04 (wait, gaze, end)

Violet’s Day, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Violet will have to be content with just her coffee, it seems.

lick it off, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Two treats for the price of one.

Don’t Grow Too Fast, sterek, g, 100w ◌ The Stilinski-Hale family are all awake.

Wanting More, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles isn’t good at denying himself. 

For 15/04 (annoy, fret, note)

built upon a single note, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Why scratch a door when you can turn a messenger?

as you are, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek stops waxing.

give a howl for me, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles doesn’t appreciate the lie.

trading secrets, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Who passes notes in class anymore? 

For 13/04 (remember, dinosaur, hollow)

take me out to the (egg) game, sterek, g, 100w ◌ The Stilinski-Hale's go to an egg hunt.

pumpkin seeds and non-seasonal chocolate, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek works on being accepted in his home.

pain is moons away, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek watches his pack.

playing tag with godzilla, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek’s age is unknowable, even to his son, apparently.

For 11/04 (lock, ajar, light)

not a creature was stirring, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek comes home late.

Little Lies, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek doesn’t mean to see at first, and then he does.

no father needs to see that, sterek, t, 100w ◌ John’s getting too old for this.

early morning, good morning, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek forgets the rules; Stiles makes an empty threat.

For 8/04 (sofa, two, draw)

Sick Day, sterek, g, 100w ◌ A day together doesn’t go as planned.

it’s the little things, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Stiles comes home late; Derek’s prepared.

it’s been a long day, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Two sleepy young men rest on the sofa.

let me be your muse, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek is Stiles’ French girl.

For 6/04 (engine, access, encourage)

Rev My Engine, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles takes his Jeep in for a check-up.

You Rev Me Too, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek has a new reason to enjoy his job

just say that you’re mine, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek has a question.

fall to pieces, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek gets a call in the middle of the night.

For 4/04 (mountain, veil, bizarre)

training to be a legend, sterek, g, 100w ◌ The pack joins Kira on her journey.

up against the wall, sterek, t, 100w ◌ The pack readies for battle.

a change of arrangements, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek follows through on his arranged marriage.

thanks, you (really) shouldn’t have, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Erica has cooked tonight. Derek will be sleeping on the couch unless he shows up soon.

For 1/04 (frighten, haircut, helpful)

Fuzzy Candy Dish, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Derek doesn’t know how this always happens to him.

You’re Not Alone, sterek, t, 100w ◌ Stiles tries to support his mother; Derek helps him.

then I saw his face, sterek, g, 100w ◌ A change of hair leads to an awakening.

spiffy new do, sterek, g, 100w ◌ It’s time for a haircut for the littlest member of their family.

#writing list

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

#my fics #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #cm fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my content #aaron hotch #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #h0tchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

[mercy-burning]

Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own  one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

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[goblinshork]

Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

@

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

@

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door. 

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

@

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

@

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

@

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

@

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

@

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

@

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

[ayamturd]

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.” 

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi​‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls. 

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone. 

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was. 

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further. 

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you. 

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream. 

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly. 

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped. 

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy. 

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that. 

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time. 

Until now. 

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist. 

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration. 

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth. 

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore. 

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high. 

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has. 

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him. 

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state. 

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat. 

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned. 

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then. 

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x gn!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x gn!reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dsmp x reader #sleepysoupi 1.8k writing event

[dreamingofaizawa]

A Dragon’s Bride

Dragon Prince! Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Fae Princess! Reader

Fanstasy AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 years old, you are not old enough to ride. Please exit the line and find another. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, soft to rough sex, light fluff. Characters are aged up, Bakugo and reader are the same age.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: So I had this idea after reading other fantasy AU fics, and I just really wanted a soft Bakugo. I know he’s an angry moody mf but idgaf aight? I didn’t wanna get super descriptive with the smut, just cause I wanted it to be more like ‘lovemaking’ than just sex, you feel me? Sorry if the pace is a little weird, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on this lmao. Anyway, here’s dragon boi Bakubitch.

Enjoy the read~

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As the youngest daughter of the Fae King and Queen, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were put in an arranged marriage. Your eldest brother had taken his Fae wife and would ascend to the throne in due time, and your older sister had already been married off to the Elven Prince Shouto.

Despite knowing you’d need to marry for political ties, you hadn’t expected to be sent off quite so soon. Your 19th birthday had passed only a few days ago, and that was when the news was broken to you. You were to be married to the Dragon Prince Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be the Dragon King, for his parents had expressed their wish to step down as royals rather early for Dragons of their age. 

The journey was rather long, even as you flew with your guards in a beeline to the lands of the Dragons. Throughout the weeklong trip your nerves were building and the mild fear settled into your bones. The Dragon Prince was infamous for his temper and short fuse, his anger always taken out specifically on Izuku Midoriya, the Fairy Prince from his  childhood. Your kingdom had not tied itself with the Dragons in centuries, and this alliance meant the Fae’s history of stubborn seclusion and independence would begin to diminish. This was a mission you could not afford to fail.

The final night camping was the worst. Sleep seemed to fear you, and you tossed and turned, attempting to settle your nerves. But it was to no avail. The sky began to lighten into a dull gray, signaling the coming morning. The guard came to wake you up, and soon you were bathed and back in the sky. Not having slept was of no concern, you’d gone days without sleep before and were just fine.

By midday you’d reached the edge of the Dragon kingdom, and were landing in front of the mountain castle just before sundown. The castle was gorgeous on its own, the face of it being the only exposed piece of the structure with the rest of the castle buried inside the mountain itself. The entrance was large, a platform that no doubt acted as a landing pad for the royal Dragons. Warm light poured from the large arched doorway as the huge stone doors opened as you approached.

You were greeted by the King, Queen, and the Prince himself. You sank before them in a low curtsy, pitch black wings spread out and flattened to your sides in a display of reverence. The King and Queen themselves bowed their heads toward you as a sign of respect, and when the Prince looked away indifferently, the Queen forced the boy down into a bow by grabbing his head and shoving it down, leaving you shocked. 

You were of lower rank than he, so there was no reason for him to bow his head to you. Noticing your confused state, the Dragon Queen spoke. “Rank is of little concern here, child. My son must learn a grain of respect if he is to be King.” With a small smile, you nod in understanding, too afraid to speak. Your nerves were bound to come through in your voice, and you refused to show signs of weakness in front of Dragons powerful as they.

Tonight was one of rest, and there were rooms for your royal guards to rest for the night before they had to make the journey back to Fae land. The Queen insisted you call upon a maid should you need anything, and personally escorted you to your room. Once alone, you took the time to bathe. A warm indoor spring was not something you were used to. Waterfalls were the bathing pools of choice in the Fae kingdom, though the warm water was welcome after your long journey. Soon you were in a nightgown and fast asleep in a warm bed of furs.

The next morning a maid came to wake you, and you were dressed by several handmaidens. The gown you wore was simple. A soft grey, long and flowing, with the fabric bunched at your shoulders in a sleeveless style and a low-cut back to accommodate your wings. You were escorted to the dining room, and you took the time to memorize parts of the castle.

The table itself was shorter than you expected, with only three seats on the longer sides and the usual single seats on the ends, already occupied by the King and Queen. Prince Katsuki sat to his mother’s right, and you were led to sit on her left, directly across from him. For the first time, you got a good look at the boy. 

Unruly ash blonde hair framed his face, which was chiseled and defined. His deep red eyes seemed to burn and glow like embers, and you had to look away from the intensity of his gaze on you. Your eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of his arms and collarbones, the muscles rippling underneath. You’d be lying to say he wasn’t incredibly handsome.

Through breakfast the Queen asked about your kingdom and its customs, and personal questions on how you felt about this alliance. You gave simple answers, having been trained to respond to such questions. She then walked you through the day, explaining how you’d be spending a lot of time with Katsuki not only for today, but all the way up until the wedding, which was set to take place in six months. The Prince scoffed at the idea.

“Why the hell do I even need to marry her? Why can’t I go find someone I like? I’m sure she’d rather marry someone she likes.” The Queen let out a low growl that could only be from a Dragon, directed toward her son. Her voice boomed through the hall. “Hold your tongue, boy. This alliance is important to both our kingdoms. You’ll do well to remember that.” He went silent with a snarl. She then turned her attention to you with a soft smile, the harsh edge gone from her voice.

“My apologies, dear. He can be...difficult. I hope your union can teach him some humility as well as respect for others.” With a soft smile, you nod. “I understand, my Queen. I pray I am not a burden to the Prince.” She chuckles and shakes her head as if you’d said something extremely amusing. Breakfast was soon over and you were left to spend the day alone with Prince Katsuki.

It was a rather difficult day. The Prince refused to speak, only voicing any irritation or anger he had for something he’d noticed. You were mostly quiet, in fear of angering him and possibly spoiling the union. He didn’t address you at all, and most interaction was awkward, but that was to be expected. You didn’t know each other. The King and Queen left the kingdom on a trip that was to last up until the week of the wedding, leaving you alone in the castle with the prince.

The first few weeks were relatively the same, little conversation between you and the Prince, silent meals, him angrily grumbling about one thing or another. You began to wonder if this was how life was going to be with him. It’s been nearly four months now, and he only ever addressed you briefly when he commented on one thing or another, though he was less angry lately. Tonight you lay awake in bed, stressing over whether or not you’d end up ruining this alliance. 

Sleep refused to come, and you decided rolling around in bed would do you no good. Silently, you stepped out of your room and padded through the castle aimlessly. Eventually you ended up on a lone balcony at the face of the castle, far above the entrance and off to the side, jutting out from the cliffside. The chill of the night air made gooseflesh pebble your skin, but you welcomed it. It had been a while since you’d flown.

Wrapping your night robe tight around your body and stretching your wings, you stood on the railing and leaned back, falling into the open air and sailing into the night sky. You missed the wind rushing past your feathers, whipping through your hair. It was cold, but it made you feel free and light, away from the pressure of the marriage and alliance. Little did you know a pair of red eyes were watching you from a more hidden balcony.

____

You were absolutely beautiful to him. Katsuki watched as you floated on the air. Your dark feathers barely catch the warm light from the castle, giving them a slight glint as they ruffled and moved. He watched as you darted up into the clouds, pulling your wings in and spiraling up through the thick barriers, then falling back downward with your wings stretched out below you.

You were mesmerizing, and he hated how quickly he’d grown fond of you. At first he thought you were some stuck up princess, like the Elf Prince Shouto Todoroki. But he was proven wrong rather quickly. You were intelligent, your opinions sound and logical, the complete opposite of him. He was rash and emotional, and he knew it. He soon came to respect you, though he couldn’t figure out how to speak to you for the life of him. He was always more a man of action. Words were not his forte.

But as he watched you in the night sky, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. He wanted to fly with you, to dance with you through the air. He wanted to touch you, your skin, your feathers, even your horns. He’d never seen a Fae before, only drawings from books. Though those images were put to shame next to you. Your grace seemed unmatched, even compared to his mother, who was just as rough around the edges as he was.

He’d be embarrassed to say he observed you more than he had intended to. The way you walked as if you were floating, how you held yourself around others. Your posture was regal, poised, and yet full of humility and compliance. You looked like you understood your place in this world, like you knew why you were supposed to marry a Dragon in an arranged marriage instead of being able to choose who you loved.

His thoughts drifted as he watched you, and he found himself wanting to fly with you more and more as time passed. Unlike you, he could sprout his wings whenever he wanted, and soon his large leathery wings were fully formed, ready to lift him from his perch. And that’s exactly what he did.

____

You were so distracted with the rushing wind you didn’t notice the figure approaching you until you felt the air whoosh behind you unnaturally. Swiftly, you turned, and found a pair of glowing red eyes focused on you. Both of you stayed there, flapping softly in the wind to keep steady. He was the first to break the silence.

“It’s a bit late for you to be flying, Princess.” His unusually soft tone of voice had heat rushing to your face. You sputtered out your response, partially from his words, partially from your nerves. “I, uh, I’m sorry, my Prince. I had no idea that…uhm… that I wasn’t allowed to fly this l-late.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, clearly amused. ‘Cute’ he thought to himself. “I didn’t say that, Princess. Just that it was rather late for you to be awake.” More heat flooded your face at his teasing tone.

He tilts his head, indicating for you to follow him, and he flits away, landing on the balcony you’d leapt off of. You were close behind, and landed next to him as his wings vanished into his back. A large hand was extended toward you and you took it, a bit hesitant, as he’d never engaged this much contact before. His warm hand enveloped yours, and he pulled you alongside him through the castle.

You cleared your throat quietly to speak. “Apologies, my Prince, but where are we going?” A small smirk graced his lips as he turned to you. “It’s a surprise, Princess. But I promise you’ll like it.” You gave a small nod and allowed him to guide you through the halls of the castle. He led you deep into the mountain, down corridors you hadn’t explored before, and soon you were walking down uncarved tunnels lit only by torches every few feet.

After a few minutes in the tunnels, the torches came to an abrupt stop, and you began to feel uneasy with the looming darkness. As if sensing your hesitation, the Prince turned and squeezed your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not dragging you to the dungeon.” His voice was playful, something you’d never heard from him before. Despite the mild discomfort of the underground depths, you trusted him and let him pull you into the darkness.

Once your eyes had adjusted, a faint glow came from somewhere further inward. He kept walking, further and further down the tunnel, and the glow consistently strengthened until you were sure you’d find the source behind each turn you took. Then he stopped, and turned to look at you over his shoulder. “You ready, Princess?” You nodded almost excitedly, and he pulled you with him around the corner. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

The source of the cool glow was a gigantic cavern, the walls and ground littered with white, green, blue, and purple crystals, all glowing in the darkness, illuminating the space. The high ceiling was dotted with them as well, almost mimicking the night sky. In the center was a deep pool that reflected the light, the crystalline water perfectly still and undisturbed. Your wings ruffled as you took in the sight before you, the reaction involuntary.

In your wonder, you failed to notice the Prince had disappeared from your side. He called out to you once he had sunk into the water, and your eyes snapped over to him, heat rushing to your face in the realisation that he was naked. He seemed to sense your shyness, and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Princess. Won’t you join me?” Slowly, you made your way over to the pool, eyes focused on the steam rising from the water, and away from the very naked Prince.

You sank down to your knees a few feet from him, your wings wrapping around you slightly. From the corner of your eye you could see his head tilt at you, and you were sure he was smirking at your flustered state. With an amused hum, he turned his body away from you, giving you privacy to undress and dip into the water. Once you were in, you settled onto the ledge and hugged your knees close to your chest, your wings hiding most of your body. 

“Y-you can t-turn back around now, my Prince.” He shifted back to his original position, leaning against the edge of the natural pool and resting his arms up on the ledge, relaxing into the hot water. You were still a bit tense, not having been naked around a man before. His deep voice was playful as he spoke. “Relax, Princess. We’re to be married. I’ll see you eventually.” You could hear the teasing undertone and you hugged your knees in closer.

His eyes were now fixed on you. With a small sigh, he moved, and you squeaked as his arms wrapped under your wings and around your waist. He lifted you with ease, and positioned you to be straddled on his lap, face inches from his, strong arms holding you close. His eyes were glued to yours, and you couldn’t hold his gaze. It wasn’t the same intensity as the first time you’d looked at them. This time was a bit different, the burning in his eyes was not from anger.

A hand came up and cupped your cheek, shocking you from the gentle touch. His voice was just as gentle, soft as his eyes trailed over your features. “You’re beautiful, Princess.” Your wings puffed up slightly at his words, and his eyes snapped to them at the movement. “Can I touch them?” The question shocked you a bit, but you nodded, not trusting your voice. 

The hand that was on your face reached out and pet your feathers, gliding down your wing gently. Nobody had really touched your wings other than you, and it was only to clean them. This was a new sensation, and your wings shook lightly as your shoulders tensed a bit. Katsuki’s ministrations froze, and his voice turned slightly serious. “What is it? Did I hurt you?” 

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “No, no of course not. It’s just...nobody has ever touched my wings before…” He seemed to relax at that. Still, his hand pulled away from your wing in favor of holding your waist. He held you closer, and your breath hitched slightly at the close proximity, your noses inches apart. His breath was warm on your face. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to hold you close like this, Princess.”

Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed a bit. “I’ll admit, Princess, you’d captured my attention rather quickly. I never quite knew how to talk to you. But I am impatient, and couldn’t wait to hold you.” You were giddy from his confession, and you leaned forward, burying your face into his neck and pressing your body into his. 

Up until now, your focus had been on the marriage and the alliance and making sure it went well. But now, knowing it would work out, you allowed your feelings to come into play. From the beginning you’d been taken with the handsome Prince. Within the first month you were no doubt falling for him. His attitude and personality was rather brash, but he was never aggressive toward you. Sure, he didn’t speak to you, but his actions spoke much louder.

He was a gentleman more often than not, holding doors open, escorting you to and from meals, even occasionally gifting you gowns and jewelry. You’d kept your emotions in check, though you knew by now you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Now, his arms tightened around you and you breathed in each other’s scents. His fingers massaged the skin in between your wings, and your body shuddered. It felt...good. Really, really good. You mewled into his shoulder, enjoying the new sensation.

You could feel him smirk into your neck as his fingers dug into the fluffy feathers at the base of your wings. With a gasp, your wings extended out behind you and fluffed up, all the feathers ruffling as you pressed your body tighter to his. A warmth began to build in your abdomen and between your legs, and you squirmed a bit, unsure what the feeling was.

His hands released your feathers and gripped your hips with a low hiss. “Quit your squirming, Princess. I don’t think I can control myself right now.” His voice was deep, and slightly strained. You lifted your head to look in his eyes, and his pupils were dilating, red irises now small rings. “What do you mean, my Prince?” His eyebrows raised slightly before his lips curled into a smirk. He brought your hips down, grinding you down onto him. 

That was when you felt it, his hardness rubbing against your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips and heat bloomed from your chest up to your cheeks. He watched as your pupils matched his, irises disappearing into blackness. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. When he finally let go you were both panting, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Angel. My Angel.”

His eyes burned into your own as he spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You barely managed to nod before his lips were on yours again, this time hungry and wild. His tongue prodded at your lips and you let them part, let him explore your cavern in a mess of tongue and teeth. Without breaking the kiss his hands grabbed your thighs and began to lift, and your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he lifted you both from the warm water and walked.

You had no idea where he was taking you until he leaned and placed you down on soft pelts. Surprised, you pulled away to look around. The bed was situated behind a mass of towering crystals, hidden from the entrance. The blue glow illuminated the blonde’s face as he hovered above you, highlighting his features. You took a moment to admire just how beautiful he is, before his lips were on yours again.

His hands wandered freely now, groping the flesh at your hips and thighs, fingers massaging the soft skin there as his lips trailed down your neck and along your collarbones and shoulders. A thick finger found its way to your dripping core, and you let out a gasp at the feeling. You’d never laid with a man before, however you had to learn how to please one through books. You wondered briefly if the Prince had any real experience, before your mind was brought back to the moment as his finger pushed into you.

It wasn’t painful, and the mewl you let out let the blonde know you enjoyed it. His tongue attacked your pert nipples as distraction as he pressed another thick digit at your entrance, pushing it into your tight walls. A hiss escaped you from the slight burn, the stretch something you weren’t used to. Nothing had ever been inside you like this, the feelings foreign but pleasurable all the same.

His fingers maneuvered inside you, scissoring and curling and pumping until you were a panting moaning mess beneath him. His thumb dipped down into your wetness before reaching up to rub at the little bundle of nerves, making you flinch with the sudden jolt of pleasure, your wet walls clamping down on his fingers. A tightness built quickly in your abdomen the longer he kept his ministrations, and he leaned up to whisper in your ear. 

“I can feel you gripping me. Cum for me, sweet girl.” His mouth attached to your neck and sucked, adamant to leave a mark. It only took a few more moments for you to fall apart around the man’s fingers, legs and wings trembling, moans echoing through the cave. When you had come down from that high, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean, a deep groan pouring from his lips. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lines himself up with your core, grasping your hip in one hand. “Are you ready for me, Angel?” Grabbing at the furs underneath you, you nod. “I’m ready, my Prince.” Slowly, he pushes himself into you, panting and growling, jaw clenched hard. The stretch burns, but only slightly, and soon you’re moaning and mewling beneath him. Finally fully seated inside you, his head drops to your shoulder and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him.

His breath is hot, blooming over your shoulder and neck, lips and tongue attacking the skin there. He holds his hips still, flush against yours, giving you time to adjust to him. When your walls relax around him, he begins to pump into you, shallow thrusts grinding himself into your walls. As he moves, his hands crawl up your back, fingers tangling into the base of your wings and massaging gently, making you moan out and wrap your arms around his neck.

He keeps his pace steady, but you can hear the strain in his breathing and feel his jaw clenched tightly. He’s holding back, and you don’t want him to. “Please, don’t hold back. I want all of you, Katsuki.” His movements stilled, you never used his name before. Pulling back, he peered down into your eyes as your hands held his face.

“You can have all of me, Angel, if you’ll be mine.” You leaned up and kissed him sweetly, “I’m already yours, my King.” A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words, “Then you will have all of me.” He pulled his hips back and snapped back into you, setting a quick pace. Your breath came in pants and moans, the pleasure wracking through your body stealing the air from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cave, along with moans and growls and the smell of sex.

His arms held you tighter, fingers continuously digging into your feathers, lips latching onto your neck between heavy breaths. “Mine. My Angel, mine, mine. I love you my Angel.” You moaned out, your voice soft in his ear. “I love you my King. I’m yours, all yours forever.” His pace became erratic, and a hand came between your bodies to rub at the little nub between your folds. Only a few tight circles around it had you cumming and clamping down hard around his length, and he thrust into you hard. 

A few more thrusts and he stilled himself, letting out a deep guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside you, holding your body tight to his. He rolled over, laying you on top of him without removing his length from you. Your wings stretched out behind you, falling limp at your sides once they were relaxed. Katsuki peppered kissed along your hairline, whispering sweet nothings as your breaths calmed.

After a long, comfortable silence, he spoke. “Are you alright, Angel?” You smiled and kissed at his chest. “Never better, my King.” He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “We should get back to the main castle. The maids will panic if we’re missing.” You giggled at the thought of the maids running around like headless chickens searching for the two of you. With a nod, you sat up, and he lifted you off of him.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed up, but your legs were weak and gave way to your weight. Katsuki caught you easily, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing. After bathing in the pool once more, you both dressed and he carried you with him to his chambers, and you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next couple months you spent nearly all your time together. You sit side by side during meals, talk regularly, and spend free time alone on a balcony or in the crystal cave. As you spend time with him, you notice things about him you never would have guessed before. He’s extremely perceptive, smarter than his angry demeanor would lead most to believe. He hates lying, hates secrets and deceit, which showed through when he explained why he was so against the arranged marriage at first. 

The news was sprung on him only hours before you arrived, and he was angry that his parents had kept it secret from him. You noticed he was rather protective and liked skin contact, holding you tight to his body whenever he got the chance. He was thoughtful, his gifts were never useless, always something he was sure you would use and appreciate. Your favorite was the many custom jewels he had crafted for your horns. Some a delicate array of dainty silver chains and gems that glittered and swayed as you walked. Others golden wire, mimicking vines and leaves that twisted around and hugged your horns.

That was when you noticed his infatuation with your horns. He’d touch them often when your head was on his lap, tracing the intricate texture with his fingertips. He didn’t find them grotesque or intimidating like most others did, instead he found them beautiful and magical. He never tried to cover them, always adorning them with sparkling gems and glittering metal to accentuate the deep ebony.

He was curious, constantly asking questions about you, your home, and your customs. You grew to love the man more and more with every passing day, and as the wedding came and went you had no reserved feelings about the union. You loved Katsuki, the Dragon Prince, and he loved you, the Fae Princess. He was your King, and you were his Angel, and neither of you would have it any other way.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki mha #bakugo katsuki bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo bnha #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki x fem reader #katsuki bakugo x fem reader #fantasy au mha #fantasy au bnha #dragon bakugo #dragon prince bakugo

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Empty Mugs and Unexpected Hugs (H.O) 🔥

Word count: 3.3K

Enemies to lovers

(HarrisonOsterfeildxReader)

Warnings: Smut (fingering, unprotected sex *Wrap it up*) cussing, that’s probably it..

🌼🌸 MASTERLIST 🌸🌼

With Tom came Harrison, you knew that. What you didn't know was when you had agreed to a roommate situation with Tom, you were also agreeing to one with Haz. “Tom, you said ‘would you like to live with me.’ not ‘me and Haz’” you told him as you stared at the blonde boy who was carrying box after box. He opted to do this shirtless, despite the cold London breeze. A sheen layer of sweat glistened on his overly defined chest, and you hated the way you longed to reach out and touch him.

“I figured you just knew?” Tom said coyly rubbing the back of his neck as he saw the way you stared down his best friend. He wasn't blind, he knew the hatred you supposedly had towards Haz was something with much deeper roots, but anytime he tried to figure it out, you would deflect and change the subject.

“I'm not doing either of your dishes,” you said loudly enough to catch Harrison's attention.

“Wouldn't expect you to, princess,” he winked at you. With a loud groan, and a dramatic flip of your hair, you proceed to your empty room to unpack your things.

Living with Tom and Harrison was way more entertaining than you had ever thought possible. Most nights were spent at the dining room table with one to many empty beer bottles laid out in front of you, while you laughed and joked about things that were probably not funny. Of course there were also the quiet days when Tom was away filming with Haz in tow, and on those days you would usually have the company of one or both of the twins.

“You should just admit you love him,” Sam said suddenly while you were taking a sip of your beer, causing you to spit your drink all over the table.

“Sammy!” You cried out the sting of beer in your nostrils. “I do not,”

“Y/N, It's written all over your face,” Harry argued. They were supposed to be on your side, you had been friends with the twins for years, the only reason you even knew Tom, was because of Sam and Harry..

“I do not love Harrison,” You told them, but even you were unconvinced by your own words.

It was late when you heard the front door to the flat open. The twins had left a few hours prior, Tom was in the states, and Harrison was with him, so who was coming into the apartment?

You were in just a shirt, an old one of Harrison's you had taken a while back, and a pair of cheeky underwear. Tip toeing to your bedroom door and grabbing a golf club from your bag, you proceeded to sneak down the hallway to the large living area where the front door was. Your heart was pounding with the thought of having to defend the place against an intruder, in just your underwear nonetheless. You saw a shadow, next to the couch, and raised the club ready to attack. As soon as you went for it, the lamp flicked on and Harrison saw you charging towards him with a golf club. Luckily he had fast reflexes, catching the club in one hand and your quickly moving body in the other. “Christ Y/N. What are you doing?” he asked, holding your body close to his. You felt your muscles relax into him, thankful he was in fact not an intruder, and you wouldn't have to explain why there was an intruder beaten and bloody by your hand to the authorities.

“I thought you were a robber,” You admitted coyly, stepping back a bit to look at him. His piercing blue eyes looked deep into yours, a small smile on his lips as his eyes trailed down your overly exposed body.

“So you would charge at an intruder with a bright pink putter, in just your underwear?” he asked you. “Also is that my shirt?” you could feel your cheeks heat up. You pushed away from his body with a scoff and turned to go back to your room, already done with him, but his hand caught your wrist, pulling your body back into his arms. His grip was tight as he held your body close to his. Something was off. Something was wrong. This was abnormal, Haz without Tom, and showing you any sort of affection.

“Hazzy, why are you home?” You asked, finally wrapping your arms around his waist, accepting the unexpected hug that you usually would not share with Him.

“Family stuff, I've been back for a few days. Just been with my mom,” He said, still holding you. You instinctively hug him tighter, getting the feeling that something bad had happened.

“You okay?” You asked him quietly. To which he just hummed into your head, still holding you.

“Better now,” He whispers. You're so confused, and exposed. You hear the twins' voices in the back of your head. ‘Just admit it, you love him.’ Was that what you had been feeling for months on end? Is that the feeling you were feeling now, making your stomach turn? “I missed you,” He whispers and you swear you could feel him press a kiss against the top of your head. It's too much, so suddenly.

“I need to..” you push your body away, scrambling to find any words to get you away, your mind is clouded by thoughts and feelings. “Pants,” You finally let out, leaving Harrison in the living room, stunned at how flustered you had become in the matter of a millisecond.

As soon as you're back in your room, you let out a groan, you're so confused. He missed you? You? y/n? Why would he miss you? All the two of you did was bicker, bicker and flirt. Flirt. Because you did in fact have feelings for Harrison. Feelings that were not not supposed to be had towards him..

“Y/N? Can I come in?” you haven't even put on pants yet when his voice calls to you through the closed door.

“Sure,” You call out to him, desperately searching your floor for the discarded sweats you had had on a few hours before. Nowhere, great. He cleared his throat from behind you, while you were bent over, ass on full display. Fully aware now, of how exposed you are you decide to just crawl under your blanket on your bed.

“Did I do something?” He asked, concern plastered all over his face.

“What? No, why would you think-”

“You just ran from me, like literally ran, after trying to attack me with a golf club,” He points out, making you cringe.

“I- Uh, yeah. I'm sorry about nearly attacking you,” You mumble, a little more embarrassed than you'd like to admit.

“So why'd you run away?” he pondered, watching you closely as you struggled to find your words. Unbeknownst to you Harrison was also having an internal crisis. You were Y/N. Someone Tom considered a little sister, Harry and Sam's best friend, but he couldn't help the way that you made him smile every time you couldn't open a jar, and would defeatedly ask him for help after way too long of attempting it yourself. Or the way you would curse at the line of dirt that you could never seem to sweep into the dustpan. The way you would always make a cup of tea before finishing the last, leaving so many mugs with a single drink all over the place, something that would drive any other person crazy, but he just found it endearing, and was sure if it ever stopped, he would miss it.

“You said you missed me,” You finally managed to say, making a smile spread over Harrison's lips. He took a chance, stepping into your room, towards where you were sitting on the bed, and when you didn't object, he crossed the empty space sitting right next to you.

“I did miss you,” He said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently.

“We fight, and argue,” You started, obviously ready to explain all the reasons he shouldn't have missed you.

“And we flirt, and share memories, and glances. You drive me nuts y/n. But the second I step out that door, I miss it all. The obnoxious quirks, the way you can't pronounce some things correctly, no matter how often I correct you. I miss hearing you call out goodnight to me in the nighttime, and how you always wish me to have sweet dreams. I don't know when, or why it happened, but yeah. When I'm gone I miss you,” you feel a tear escape your eye at his confession, not sure exactly what to say or think for that matter. His finger caresses your cheek wiping the tear from your face.

“Haz?” You whisper.

“Yes?” He asks, full attention turned to you.

“I miss you when you're gone too,” You finally admit, a weight lifting from your chest. He's thankful to know his feelings aren't completely one sided. Your admission of missing him is at least enough to confirm that you don't actually hate him. “Can I be honest?” You ask, catching even yourself off guard.

“Please,” He says, waiting for you to say whatever you had to say.

“I- '' You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for rejection and embarrassment, but if you wait much longer, you'll never say what you have to. “I get so irritated with you, because everything you do just draws me in. I can't not stare, or listen. It drives me nuts, to be so flustered by everything that you do, and it's the simple things Haz, the way you insist on sitting on the left side of the couch, or how you always make sure I've eaten after a long day. The way you constantly clean up my mugs that I leave everywhere, and you have never once said a thing about them, even if you have had every right to,” you don't even want to look at him, afraid he will be appalled, but you have to say it. “I’m pretty sure I've managed to fall in love with you, while trying desperately to hate you,” you whisper.

That's enough of a confirmation for Harrison, that you're on the same page. With his hand gently on your face, pulling your chin up towards him, he leans in, pressing his lips ever so gently against yours. And the electricity that you both feel from the slightest touch? Fucking magic.

“I tried so hard not to love you,” He whispers. You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes gazing directly into yours, and it's like you're looking at the sky on a clear summer day. “And dear God did I fail,” he whispers, making you melt. He leans back down, this time kissing you with something so much more. It's meaningful, it's beautiful, it's everything you have wanted without realizing it. Your hands are against his chest, feeling each thud of his heart, while his are cupping your face. He kisses you like his life depends on it, and in that moment it surely feels like it does. He deepens the kiss, his tongue making its appearance in your mouth. It's everything and more. You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to extend this moment forever, and his slip down to your waist, pulling you closer. He pulls away, and a soft whine escapes your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” He whispers, as he caresses your cheek. Eyes searching your face, making sure he's not crossing a line. You lean into his hand, closing your eyes and letting a soft humm leave your lips. With no objection from you, he reconnects your lips for a third time tonight. This time it's hot, so so hot. You can feel the ache forming in your stomach as his lips move from yours to your neck. You need him, you have to have him, just a little taste and you realize you have been starving. With a swift motion you're straddling him now, leaning down into him instead of leaning up, giving him so much more access to your neck and jaw, and then he remembers an unanswered question from before.

“This is my shirt,” He says, this time it's not a question, just a statement.

“Yeah,” You giggle. His eyebrows raise a bit as he remembers all the shirts that have seemingly disappeared over the last few months.

“Do you have others?” He asks. You feel like you have been caught red handed, nowhere to go or hide.

“I- Yes,” You admit. “I like to sleep in them,”

“In just your underwear?” He asks, to which you shyly nod. He throws his head back and lets out a dramatic sigh. He's done for, “That is so fucking hot,” he mutters before leaning back in taking your bottom lip between his and sucking it slightly. He feels his pants tighten as your hips grind into him instinctively, and you're so wet and warm he can practically feel it through his jeans.

“Hazzy,” you moan as he pushes you down onto him, providing a friction you desperately need, even though it's not what you want.

“What is it?” He asks you, as he does it a second time. Your head falls down onto his shoulder, and you don't know if you can even express what it is you want.

“Can you..” You trail off.

“Can i?” he asks, needing to hear you say it out loud.

“Touch me?” The words are like music to his ears, flipping you onto your back as he slips his hand between your bodies, running his fingers along the damp fabric of your ruined panties. The fact that you're this wet from just kissing is driving him crazy. He slips his hand into your panties, finally sliding his long digits along your slit. One thing about Harrison that drove you absolutely crazy was his hands, because dear god were they perfect, his long fingers and veiny tops, you'd be lying if you said you had never gotten off imagining his fingers in the place of yours, and now, actually having the real thing, you felt like you were flying.

As he slid his finger inside you, you let out a gasp, his being so much bigger than your own, and it being way too long since you had been with anyone.

“Say the word and I'll stop,” He says, as he looks at your face twisted in pleasure, but he can't tell that it's not pain, he's never seen you like this before. This is a whole new territory.

“Please.. Please don't,” You nearly beg as your hips buck against his hand. The smirk that replaces the concern on his face is unbelievably hot, his pupils are blown with lust and you're sure yours are as well. He thrusts his one finger in and out grazing against your spot each and every time, his palm rubbing your clit as he does so. You're going to lose it, this is so much better than you could have ever imagined. He pulls his finger out, causing a whine from you, which quickly turns to a gasp as he replaces it with two. If you're falling apart to his fingers you're not sure how you'll be able to handle his cock.

“Hazzy,” You moan out, right on the brink of losing it.

“Come on my fingers princess,” He coos, and that is precisely what you do, your whole body shakes in pleasure, and your toes curl, and he keeps going, as your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

Once your legs finally stop shaking he pulls his hand away, and although that was probably the most powerful orgasm you had ever had, it is not nearly enough. “Haz.” You say quietly as he peppers kisses on your neck.

“Hmm?” He hums.

“Need more, need you,” you say, and his head peaks up, a smile on his face, a bit in excitement, a bit in surprise.

“You sure?” he asks, to which you respond by kissing him, you nibble at his bottom lip, and he lets out a moan. You reach down unbuttoning his jeans and sliding his zipper down, and he assists you in pulling them down. You can clearly see his length through his boxers, his cock, rock hard and leaking on to his boxers, it's flattering. You let your fingers trail his length and you can feel his eyes on your hand, and you're not sure if he's worried, nervous, or excited. You slide his boxers down and his cock springs free, and you can see the violent red hue of the tip, he's begging to be touched and he hasn't even said a thing. You wrap your hand around him and he lets out a gasp at the sudden contact, you stroke your hand up and down a few times before, he pushes you back onto the bed and climbs over you. He slides his fingers in the hem of your panties and slowly drags them down your legs, before dropping them to the floor, and then takes his time lifting his shirt over his head, exposing his chest, you follow suit, and throw the shirt you had on to the ground. You're both completely naked now, no turning back, you've made it this far already.

"Y/n, baby we don't have to," he whispers against your ear.

"Hazzy, stop worrying and fuck me please," you nearly beg as you pull his lips to yours in a desperately hungry kiss.

"Christ," he mutters as he lines himself at your entrance, pushing into you at a slow, agonizing speed. Of course he's only doing this to make sure you're ok, his fingers seemed like so much to your tight pussy he's worried he's going to hurt you. But the way you moan out his name gives him full confidence that you in fact are fine. Once he's fully sure you're fine to take him, he speeds up his thrusts, finding a place that is perfect for the both of you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he pounds into you. You're not sure you're going to last long.

"Not gonna last," you moan into his lips.

"S'okay, me either," he says back. He slips his hand down, rubbing your clit strategically. You let out another loud moan before his name leaves your lips, repeatedly as you convulse around his cock, and it's only one more thrust before he completely empties himself into you.

It's a few quiet moments of your bodies laying flush against each other, enjoying the afterglow of sex. "I'm gonna clean you up," he whispers in your ear before pushing himself up and off of you. He disappears from the room for what feels like an eternity, but is back within a minute with a warm rag and a glass of water, and he then cleans you up, being gentle with how sensitive you now are.

Your eyes get heavy after everything is said and done, and you're worried he's going to disappear from your room, but he lays next to you instead. Pulling you into his arms.

"Hazzy?" You whisper after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

"Is everything ok with your family?" You ask, getting worried this may have been a lapse in judgement on his part because of heightened emotions.

"Yes. Char decided to give us a scare and disappear for a weekend, so I came back to try and keep my mom from murdering her," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Oh," you giggled.

"Y/n?" He whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I meant it. I missed you," he says, pressing a kiss atop of your head. You smile before falling asleep in his arms. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe it would be forever. All you knew was it felt right.

#Harrison Osterfield #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield imagine #hazzy #haz #haz osterfield #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfeild x reader smut #harrison osterfeild fluff

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part three

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jax grow closer... I don't know what else to say without revealing spoilers haha

Word count: 4k words

Warnings: very bad language, mentions of blood, physical & verbal abuse, angsty & some fluff

Author's note: I appreciate all the positive feedback I've received this far! It's much appreciated :) also, I'm bad at writing these summaries

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO

💀💀💀💀💀

He’s late. The thought brings about a familiar uneasiness and your mind conjures images of a bloodied Jax lying unconscious in some dingy ditch. Jesus Christ.

“Mommy, why did you stop reading?”

S/N’s soft voice draws you back to reality. You look over to his bed where he’s laying beside Abel. “Did I stop reading?”

He giggles, “Yep.”

Oh. You look down at the book in your hand then back up at the boys. “I’m sorry, ace. I guess Mommy’s a bit tired.” And apparently, she’s distracted. You look back down at the book, willing yourself to remember your place.

“Cooper the Cat was stuck in the tree,” he reminds you.

“Right, Cooper the Cat!” your eyes hastily skim through the short paragraphs until you land at the right sentence. “Got it. ‘Help!’ cried Cooper from the tree…”

And just like that, all thoughts of Jax and his safety are shoved to the back of your mind to deal with at a later time. It’s your lucky day today, the boys have had a long day and they’re out before you reach the end of the book.

“I love you, ace,” you whisper to your son after you’ve kissed him goodnight.

It’s because of your love for S/N that you left Jax and the endless bullshit that comes with him. Anxiety-filled nights like this one are a thing of your past and you know you can’t allow yourself to be consumed by thoughts of him. Once you start, there’s no stopping you. You know this, very well, so why is there a sick feeling twisting in your gut? Because a small part of you is still in love with your ex.

Hope blooms when your phone vibrates in your pocket but it’s only B/N. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your boyfriend’s name on your phone screen, but the anxiety’s gnawing at your mind, and you’re desperate for it to be put to sleep. Fortunately for you, B/N’s in high spirits. He’s been frustrated with you lately, and wants you back in Charlotte — his insecurities about Jax are beginning to show.

It’s for that reason that you don’t tell him about S/N’s friendship with Abel.

“This time next week, you and S/N will be back home,” he muses.

“Yeah, we both can’t wait.” You feel disappointed at the realization, “It feels like forever, doesn’t it?”

And S/N has been asking about B/N more and more these days but you don’t tell that to him, afraid that he’ll catch the earliest flight to California. Truthfully, you’re not exactly ready to let Jax out of your life which you’ll be forced to do if B/N’s in Charming. You see, he’s… protective and doesn’t like the idea of you hanging around men. Especially Jax. Hell, he almost stopped you from attending your own mother’s funeral.

Of course, it was under the guise of being the protective boyfriend. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be in the same town as your violent biker ex?” He said all the right things and did everything in his power to talk you out of the decision but in the end, he failed to convince you to stay away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

You hang up just in time to hear Jax’s motorcycle pull up out front. The relief is quickly overshadowed by concern when you open the door and are greeted by a bloody-faced Jax.

“I’m late.”

“I’m more concerned about that gash on your brow. Come in.” You open the door wider, “If you’re here to get Abel, he’s asleep. You can fetch him in the morning.”

“Shit.” You step aside to allow him access into the house, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I got caught up in Oakland.”

“It’s fine. S/N was happy to have Abel stay the night.”

He smiles, “Thank you.”

You return his smile, “We should clean that before it gets infected.” Before you can process your actions, you’re leaning closer to take a better look at the cut. “I can’t see much, you should rinse it with water. I’ll go grab the first aid kit.”

“It’s late, I’ll have Chibs take care of the cut.”

“Meet me in the kitchen,” you start for the bathroom, “rinse the cut.”

You grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and find Jax sitting at the breakfast table, pensively staring into space, a half-drunk bottle of water sitting in front of him.

“Here.”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie. His eyes drop to the pill container in your hand and he arches a brow.

“It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the pills and pops the cap open, “I should’ve called.”

“It’s fine.” You do your best to keep a casualness in your voice when you ask, “What was happening in Oakland? Is everyone okay?”

He gazes at you for a long while before he responds, gauging where your head is at. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“Should I be worried?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

You watch him take the pain medication, there are so many questions to ask, questions only Jax has answers to.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

He swallows the pills and smiles, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t safe. Don’t worry, you and S/N are safe.”

Hesitantly, you nod as you pull a chair from the table. In a bid to lighten the mood, you tell him, “No offense, Jackie, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he chuckles.

You take your seat in front of him and suppress the urge to smile, “Who punched your handsome mug?”

“I was pistol-whipped.”

“Ouch.” Scooting forward in your chair, you lean towards Jax to get a better look at the rinsed cut, and for a very brief moment, your eyes lock with his before they dart up to his cut. “It’s like the good ol’ days, isn’t it?”

“You playin’ nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Back in the day, nights like these were common. Jax would sit at this very table, at the very chair he’s sat on, whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises. Mother would be sitting in the living room, hurling insults at both you and Jax. She would take any chance to remind you that you were making a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life.

“Your mom hated me.”

Your eyes lock with his, “In her defense, you would always be finding ways to antagonize her.”

And in return, your mother would call Jax all kinds of names but even that wouldn’t keep him away. Nothing ever could keep him from you. Memories of Jax sneaking into your room late at night come to mind. “I had to come kiss my girl goodnight,” he’d tell you.

“We were pretty wild back then,” you reminisce.

And you were madly in love with each other, however, you keep that part to yourself. The situation’s complicated enough without the added layer. You’ve barely mustered the courage to mention B/N’s existence to Jax because, in all honesty, you’re not quite sure how he might react to another man raising his son. The thought of his reaction fills you with dread. Heaven knows he’ll give you a hard time about leaving next week.

Gah, it’s all too much! With a shake of your head, you dismiss all thoughts and grab the ointment from the kit. “Shall we?”

He nods and shuts his eye for you to apply it on the cut. A silence descends upon the kitchen and neither of you makes an effort to fill it.

“You’re good to go,” you announce once you’re done.

“Thanks.”

“I couldn’t risk it getting infected.”

More than anything, you don’t want S/N to see Mommy’s friend sporting cuts on his face. He’ll ask questions, probably mention it to B/N, and you’re not looking to have that drama in your life.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had your dinner…”

“Nah, but I should get going.”

Your mood deflates at his announcement. The truth is you don’t want him to leave but how do you stop him without giving him the wrong idea? Why are you even stopping him from leaving?

“Stay,” you blurt out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, there’s the guest bedroom. It’s late and you’re medicated and you shouldn’t be driving and–”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure you do.” You take a breath to compose yourself, “I was cleaning out the closets the other day and I found some of your old stuff. They’re clean, I uh, washed them. Everything is oversized, they should still fit you.”

You had intended to take them to Goodwill and you will but right now, Jax needs them.

“Look, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

It isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Honestly? You just want him near you. It’s wrong, and you understand the implications and know that B/N won’t be happy should he find out, but one night wouldn’t be harmful to anyone, right? Besides, he’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom.

He thoughtfully considers your proposition. After a stretched silence, he reluctantly accepts your offer.

“Great,” you perk up, “I’ll warm up your dinner.”

You make some conversation over dinner, none of the heavy shit, mostly catching up on all you’ve missed in the four years you’ve been away. He tells you about the club, and that Opie met someone and they’re now married.

“And how about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

He doesn’t answer your question, not that you expect him to. You just can’t help but be curious. After dinner, he heads over to the bathroom to take his shower whilst you load the dishwasher and dig through the laundry to look for Jax’s old t-shirts and sweats. The guilt sets in and you fight the urge to call B/N to tell him about Jax.

You’re dialing his number when you stop yourself. “Geez, Y/N!” you toss your phone into the laundry basket and step back to create distance between you and the device. Think about this. The last thing you need is B/N bulldozing into Charming and starting shit with Jax and the M.C. — that could be fatal. No, Jax staying the night is you helping out an old friend, there’s nothing more to it.

Grabbing the folded pile of clothing, you make your way down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Jax waiting patiently on the bed for you. Nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

“I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry.”

He rises off the bed and that’s when you get a clear view of his torso, and the tattoo inscribed on his ribcage.

“You’ve proved your point, Jax, now let’s go.” “No, why?” You look over your shoulder to the big, tattooed man standing over by the counter, laughing at whatever joke he’s just been told. You’re at some grimy tattoo parlor, somewhere in Reno, and Jax’s about to get your name tattooed on his body. His ribcage to be exact. The sentiment is sweet, you admit, but it’s a permanent decision, and you’re only 17. You look back at Jax who’s now laying shirtless on the tattoo chair, “Do you realize how insane this is?” He smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “Do you have a death wish? Gemma’ll kill us both when she sees this.” Part of her rage will be due to the fact that it’s your name on his ribcage instead of hers. “And what if they find out we’ve lied about our age?” “Babe, will you relax? They won’t, this place is a dump.” Which is exactly why he shouldn’t get his first-ever tattoo done here. “There’s no talking you out of this, huh?” “No.” He laces his fingers with yours and raises your hand to press a kiss to its back, “This is what I want to do. I don’t care what my mom thinks.” “And the pain? You don’t care about that either?” He shakes his head, “No.” You glance at the stencil transfer on his ribcage and sigh. “I know you don’t have to do this–” “I want to do this.” “And there’s clearly no talking you out of this.” “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand and flash him a reassuring smile, “Do you want me to hold your hand?” His smile returns, brighter than ever, “I’d appreciate it, darlin’.” “You’re insane, you know that, right?” He nods. “Only because I love you.” You lean over to lock your lips in a kiss — you don’t doubt it for a second.

You pry your eyes from his torso, forcing yourself to face the now smirking Jax. Right, his clothes!

You hold out the pile to him, “Did you put your clothes in the hamper?”

He accepts them and murmurs ‘thanks’ before he responds to your question. “Yeah, just like you said.”

“Okay,” you fight off the urge to look down at his ribcage. He kept it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Jax.”

Spinning on your heels, you scurry out the room before you do something you’ll regret later.

💀💀💀💀💀

“Mommy! Come see!”

S/N and Abel’s laughter sounds from the living room. Saturday mornings have always been your favorite. Sleeping in is always a winner in your books, a vital part of any Saturday routine, and once you’re up, B/N takes S/N out of the house whilst you prepare breakfast. Last weekend was S/N’s first Saturday away from B/N and he was miserable. This Saturday is different.

“Mommy?” More laughter sounds, “You will miss it!”

Lowering the heat, you abandon your cooking and make your way over to the living room. A slouched Jax is taking up most of the three-seater with S/N and Abel on either side of him, all three pairs of eyes fixed on the television screen.

“What’s got you laughing so much, ace?” You take a seat on the armrest and press a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “Beaky Buzzard?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at you, “Are you coming to sit with us?”

“No, Mommy’s got to make breakfast.”

You’d like nothing more than to stick around and watch cartoons with them but there’s breakfast to prepare. When you walk back into the kitchen, you discover your phone vibrating on the counter and you just know it’s B/N. It’s his fifth attempt in the last half-hour, probably looking to speak to S/N, but that just isn’t a good idea. Not when Jax is in the house. You’re being deceitful to both parties, but the timing just isn’t right.

B/N would lose it if he found out about Jax’s regular visits, and you don’t know how Jax would react to B/N’s existence in your life and the role he plays in your son’s life. It would ruin a perfectly good morning. The day got off to a good start with the news of the sale of your childhood home, and your son’s mood is the best it’s been all week. Why would you even think to ruin it by starting trouble with B/N?

It’s not worth it. You’ll just have to come up with a story to tell him later.

“Breakfast is served!”

The boys come barreling in and take their places at the breakfast table. You assist the two youngest boys to plate up their food before you plate up for yourself. Everyone digs into the food, and the compliments you receive are a definite boost for the ego. You listen intently as S/N and Abel excitedly recount the Looney Tune episode they’d watched earlier and S/N’s beside himself with laughter.

The happy moment is disrupted by the unwelcomed vibration of your phone on the counter.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

Shit! You wince at the name ‘Daddy’. It’s what S/N always calls B/N but somehow, it doesn’t feel right when Jax’s sitting across the table from him.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, ace?” you look over to him, very aware of Jax’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

“No, it’s probably the estate agent.” It’s not a convincing lie, but you’re caught off guard and can’t come up with something better. “She’s calling about the house.”

“When is Daddy calling?”

“Probably later.” You hate that you’re being so dismissive. “We’ll call him after Abel and Jax leave, okay?”

He looks like he might ask another question, maybe press for a better answer, but he resumes eating his food. You avoid Jax’s eyes for the remainder of breakfast. He helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher in painful silence. Once Jax has helped you load the dishes, he leaves you alone in the kitchen. Can the morning get any worse? Apparently, it can. You unlock your phone to find multiple texts from an irate B/N.

He didn’t take kindly to you ignoring all ten of his calls. Shit. You’re on the verge of tears when Jax saunters into the kitchen.

“Abel and I are leaving.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. “You’ll ride on your bike with Abel?”

“No. Ratboy’s waiting out front with the van.”

“Ratboy?”

“The new prospect.”

“And will we see Abel tomorrow?”

His impassive expression says it all. Your gut twists with anxiety at the thought of not seeing Jax again before you leave Charming. How do you make this right?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shakes his head. Just then S/N and Abel sprint into the kitchen, bustling with energy. Abel hugs you goodbye before the boys run back out of the kitchen and out of the house onto the front yard.

“I’m leaving my bike here. I’ll come by to get it later.”

“Cool. Yeah, that’s fine.”

You walk Jax out, and just like he’d said, Ratboy is waiting out front in a black van. Together with S/N, you watch Jax and Abel climb into the van and drive off.

“Can we call Daddy now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you lift him up and carry him towards the house. “Did you have a good time with Abel?”

He nods his little human head, a bright grin plastered on his perfect face. Once inside the house, you dial B/N’s number but he doesn’t pick up, in fact, it seems his phone’s off. Strange.

“I think his phone’s off, ace.”

His face falls. In an effort to brighten his mood, you suggest driving over to the playground.

“When is Abel coming back to play?”

You inwardly sigh. It looks like today’ll be one long ass day.

💀💀💀💀💀

The last person you expect to find standing on the other side of your front door is B/N and yet here he is, and he looks anything but pleased with you. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks at the sight of him, the chill of fear coursing through your body, and your mouth dries.

“B/N?”

His unsettling smile causes the hairs on the back of your neck to raise. “Hi, Toots. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Your movement’s robot-like as you step away from the door to make way for him. He walks past you, and once inside, his eyes search around the small space.

“Are you home alone?”

You seem to have forgotten how to speak.

“Toots?”

“S/N… He’s, uh… He’s asleep.”

He murmurs a soft ‘good’ before he turns around to pull you into an embrace. For a moment, you stand frozen, your brain seized up and you feel like a foreigner in your own body.

“What’s the matter, Toots? You don’t look too happy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?”

Yes. “No.” Moving one arm at a time, you return B/N’s embrace and do your best to calm your nerves. You’ve done nothing wrong, he’s not going to hurt you, you repeat over and over until he releases you from his hold. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come all this way.”

“It’s only a five-hour flight.”

Why the fuck are you here?

As if he read your mind, he tells you. “I missed you guys so much, I thought I’d surprise you,” with a tight smile, he adds, “You’re not very good at answering my calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

B/N hauls his luggage from the porch and dumps it onto the floor before he makes his way over to the living room. You follow slowly behind him, watching as he settles onto the couch and searches for the television remote.

“C-can I get you anything?”

“Join me,” it’s an order.

You drag your feet over to the couch and take your place next to him. Casually, he slings an arm over your shoulder and forcefully pulls you into his side.

“There. Now you’re close.”

You can’t bring yourself to fake a smile. Too petrified. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers into your ear to relax.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s told you that lie far too many times in the past.

“Are you enjoying being back in Charming?”

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

“What are you? Mute? Use your fucking words, Toots.”

“It’s good to be back.” Your voice is shaky, barely recognizable. “I missed it here”

His fingers start stroking up and down your upper arm. “Good.”

Your eyes fix on the blank television screen in front of you.

“Is he here? Is he hiding in one of the rooms?”

“Who?”

“Your white trash biker ex!”

You jump up, surprised by him raising his voice so suddenly. “Jax? No! Why would he be here?”

“You lying piece of shit,” he spits out, shoving you away from him, the force sending you to the ground. “I saw his bike parked out front. I’ll ask you again, is he here?”

“No, B/N,” tears fill your eyes, you know exactly what’s to follow but still, you plead, “Don’t do this here. Not now, please, baby.”

“Shut up!” He raises to his feet, towering over you, and kicks at your trembling frame. “No one’s touched you, why the fuck are you crying?”

“I’m sorry.” You swipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t… I don’t know whose bike that is.”

“Are you cheating on me, you whore?”

Frantically, you shake your head.

“I said use your fucking words.”

You bring a trembling hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“I asked you a question, you dumb bitch!”

“No. No. No.” You crawl over to him, closing the distance between you. “I’d never, baby. Never ever.”

“That doesn’t explain why a bike’s parked outside your house.”

“B/N, please,” you plead softly. “S/N’s asleep, we can do this another–”

The words are lost when he harshly grabs your face and shoves you onto your back. Both hands cover your mouth to muffle your pained cries. He’s vicious, and tonight, he’s out for blood.

“Get up, you–”

Knock, knock, knock! You’ve never been more relieved in your life. B/N shoots you a warning glare, daring you to make a move. A few moments later, the knocks sound again, a little louder this time around.

“Y/N?”

It’s Jax. You are faced with two decisions: do you call for Jax to help you or do you take your deserved punishment?

“Y/N?” he knocks louder. “Are you in there?”

You’re sobbing so much, your body’s trembling. B/N kneels beside you, placing two additional hands over the ones already covering your mouth. His additional weight pushes your head further into the hard ground, causing your head to hurt. It’s sure to leave a bruise. With a final knock, Jax gives up and some moments later, you hear his motorcycle ride off. Once he’s certain Jax’s left, B/N removes his hands.

“Why is he here at this hour?”

“I don’t know.” You gasp when he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “B/N, please…”

“You’ll regret cheating on me,” he murmurs softly before his hand connects with your cheek in a hard slap.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FOUR

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97

#Jax Teller #Jax Teller x reader #Jax Teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x you #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #soa #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam x you #chibs telford #tig trager #bobby munson #opie winston #gemma teller #clay morrow

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Rose Tinted.

Pairing: Yandere!Kuroo/Reader, Yandere!Kenma/Reader, Yandere!Akaashi/Reader & Yandere!Bokuto/Reader.

Word Count: 3.9k.

Synopsis: Life is stressful. It was stressful when you were your own person, when you were free, and it is now, when you’re relegated to a captivity spent in the arms of your four captors. It’s only natural that you adapt to your current life by modifying the details of your old one.

TW: Prolonged Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationships, and Implied Non-Con.

Kuroo reminds you of your old roommate, sometimes.

It’s a sickening comparison to draw, but you can’t help yourself, not when you’re with him, not when he’s acts so much like her. Kuroo’s a morning person, and with his busy schedule and all the time he spends traveling, he tries to steal every minute he can with you, every second you’re not wrapped in Bokuto’s arms or sitting on Kozume’s lap or doing whatever Akaashi does, after he forces those little white pills down your throat and your mind gets too fuzzy to form memories, even if that means he has to fish you out of bed before sunrise, deposit you on the countertop, and mutter one of his favorite threats in your ear, just to ensure you won’t make another lunge at the knife block. You’re almost grateful for that last step. It gives you an excuse not to strain yourself, so early in the day.

It’s a vague link, but it’s there. In the way he hums to himself as he cooks, how absent-mindedly he moves around the kitchen as he puts together the meal you’ve watched him make a thousand times. He’s more rushed than she used to be, though. Whereas your roommate would still have one eye shut as she cracked an egg over a sizzling pan, Kuroo’s already fully dressed, even if his shirt’s slightly unbuttoned, his tie loosened and his blazer draped over your shoulders despite your attempts to subtly shrug it off. That was something she’d done, too, but differently, more innocently. She’d ruffle your hair as you collapsed on the kitchen island, commenting on ‘another late night’ or how helpless you’d be without her help. Kuroo doesn’t have to ask. He knows where you are, where you were, all the time, every day, and if there’s a lapse in your schedule he isn’t sure how to fill in, then you wouldn’t be watching him cook.

You’d be locked in a closet, left without food or water or warmth for however long it took for you to swallow your pride and admit that you’d spent two hours trying to break the deadbolt on your bedroom’s window yesterday, all while Kuroo sat on the other side of the door and congratulated you on finally being honest.

You almost don’t notice when the humming stops, Kuroo turning the stove off before he shifts, his eyes flickering in your direction while a soft grin tugs at the corner of his lips, more patronizing than endearing. You can almost bring yourself to hate him for it. In the moment, you think you do. “You’ve been awful quiet,” He starts, once you fail to say anything on your own. “Something on your mind?”

Lying to Kuroo is useless. Bokuto never catches it and Kozume doesn’t care, but Kuroo doesn’t allow it. He thinks it’s a sign of disobedience. He thinks it means you’re falling into old habits. “Just my roommate,” You mutter, hoping you sound disinterested enough for Kuroo to drop the topic. “She used to cook a lot, too.”

There’s a hum of acknowledgement, a collision of wood on wood as he opens the nearest drawer. Idly, you wonder if Kuroo can do anything without making noise. “Blonde hair, brown eyes? The same girl who always skipped out on rent?”

“She couldn’t keep a job.” You almost glance towards him, if only to smirk and tell him that, whatever he’s making, she would’ve made it better, but you stop yourself before you can. He wouldn’t like that, and as bland as Kuroo’s cooking is, your roommate probably would’ve burnt the pan beyond repair and left the mess for you to find, hours later. “It wasn’t her fault. She always got stuck with strict bosses, and she wasn’t good with schedules. She was really nice, though.”

Kuroo chuckles, taking a second to prod at your side. “C’mon, sweetheart, nicer than me?”

You don’t answer, but Kuroo doesn’t seem to mind. There’s another laugh, another prod, and he steps in front of you, positioning himself between your open legs and supporting himself against the cabinets lining the wall, caging you in. It’s probably supposed to be a playful gesture. It’s probably supposed to be, he probably wants it to be, but somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to feel so light-hearted.

When he raises a hand, you don’t flinch, but you have to fight the urge to recoil as he cups your jaw, tracing his thumb over your cheek. You don’t want him to touch you, but you know better than to push him away. “We’re in a good mood today, alright?” The question is soft, well-meaning, but you frown regardless, tightening your grip on the edge of the countertop. “No fighting, no tantrums, and no trying to get away while I’m gone. I know the others go easy on you, but when I come home, I don’t want to hear a word about your behavior.”

They don’t go easy on you. No one goes easy on you. Kuroo’s just too harsh.

Kuroo’s strict, but… he makes good on his promises. If there’s anything about him you like, it’s that.

Apparently, you take a little too long to respond. Again, you're forced to think about your roommate when he sighs, the same way she used to when you had to tell her you wouldn't be able to pick her up from that bar or go to this party, that you were too tired, that you didn’t want to see her face after working yourself to the bone so the two of you could afford to feed yourselves. Like she was disappointed. Like she had the right to be disappointed.

“I know you’re still getting used to this, but try to give it time. The guys and me, all of us love you, and none of us want to see you sulk. I’m not asking you to cheer every time I walk through the door, just…” There’s a pause, another sigh. Kuroo straightens his back, pressing a long, lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Just try to smile a little more, alright? I promise, I’ll make it worth the effort.”

Your answer is short, but you can still feel Kuroo’s smile against your skin. And, just for a moment, you think you might be grateful he bothered to ask.

“I’ll try.”

~

Bokuto reminds you of your boyfriend, in a certain way.

Out of all of your captors, his intentions are the most unquestionably romantic. Akaashi and Kuroo seem to think of you as more of a pet than a partner, and you’ve never been able to figure out what Kozume wants from you, but Bokuto’s straight-forward, Bokuto doesn’t feel the need to hide his intentions behind pretty words and selfish gifts and mantras about how much he loves you, even if the last still comes naturally. You don’t appreciate him for it. You don’t like him for it, but it makes Bokuto bearable. If you had the luxury of choosing a favorite, he’d probably be your first pick.

It helps that he’s still so convinced your relationship is normal. When he’s the one to wake you up, he lets you decide what you want to wear, and when he kisses you, you don't have to kiss back. You’re allowed to say no, with Bokuto. You’re allowed to refuse, and he won’t push you to change your mind.

Tonight’s an exception to that rule, obviously.

You think you’re in Akaashi’s bed. The sheets are white, tucked in a little too tightly at the corners, and the lighting is dimmer than it would be, if Bokuto’d had the patience to carry you somewhere more private. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you don’t have time to forget waking up. The jarring dip of the mattress, the strong hand on your shoulder, barely bothering to shake for a second before pushing you onto your back and pinning you down, thighs straddling your waist and his chest pressing against yours before you can do so much as open your eyes. You only realize it’s him, realize that it’s Bokuto when he kisses you, taking advantage of your stupor in that messy, clumsy way that always leaves you breathless and gagging. That leaves you hurt, more so than you would be if any of the others treated you so roughly.

He’s smiling, when he pulls away. It’s not soft and it’s not subtle, and it hasn’t faded by the time he finds your neck, latching onto the sensitive spot just above your jugular. If he had been your boyfriend, you might’ve laughed as his teeth graze against your skin, you might’ve found it exciting when he bite down. But, it isn’t. Your boyfriend would’ve asked, and Bokuto isn’t your boyfriend.

“I asked,” He cuts in, not waiting for you to finish. That’s fine. It’s expected, honestly. Bokuto’s like a puppy, too eager for his own good, a trait that borders on endearing at times, but only manages to come off as frustrating, now. “He’s always really busy, and you just looked so sweet, I didn’t know of I could leave you all alone.” There’s a laugh, abrupt and bright, the sound soon muffled against the crook of your shoulder. “Just an hour, alright? Then you can go back to sleep.”

“Kotaro,” You try, pushing lightly on his chest. It’s a futile effort, one that only results in a groan against your skin and an arm around your waist, but you try regardless. You’re not sure you’d be able to forgive yourself if you stopped. “It’s supposed to be Keiji’s turn and… I don’t know if he’d be alright with--”

That sounds like something your boyfriend would’ve said, too. Just an hour. Just an hour, then you’d be able to go back to sleep, or back to work, or back to whatever you did to pass time when you didn’t have any time to pass. And when you didn’t have an hour, when you tried to explain that, you two would spend an hour fighting, instead. At least you didn’t have to fight with Bokuto. He made that part easy, with his willingness to pout and cry and fuck you into the mattress with tears in his eyes because, although you could say no, he doesn’t care if you do. It just makes things easier when you don’t.

“I-” Again, you’re interrupted, the words fading into a small, high-pitched shriek as his canines sink into your shoulder. And you’d just gotten your hopes up that he might let his last set of love-bites heal without interruption. “I don’t want to do this.”

Now, that makes him pull away. It’s almost surprising, how little relief there is to accompany the gesture, how much guilt comes with having to meet those wide, glassy eyes and swallow the apology playing on your tongue. You didn't apologize to your boyfriend, not the last time, not the most important time. Or, your ex-boyfriend, you guess. You’re pretty sure you broke up with him, or he broke up with you, or someone said something that made you angry enough to storm out of his apartment and into Bokuto’s waiting arms, Akaashi beside him with a length of rope and a needle full of sedatives. 

His voice shakes when he speaks. ”Are you… Are you mad at me, again?”

You aren’t. It’s hard to be mad at Bokuto, and you’re so tired of always doing the hard thing.

“Wouldn it matter if I was?” You mumble, falling back onto Akaashi’s bed. “It’s not like you’d listen to me.”

You’re looking at the ceiling, now, but there’s a shift, a slight change. Soon, you can’t feel his weight on your chest, and you have to suppress the urge to mourn his stifling presense. “I’d try to.”

You almost wish it was Akaashi on top of you. At least then, you might be able to believe he knows he’s lying. “You wouldn’t,” You sigh, trying to sound exasperated. Trying to sound genuine. “If you listened to me, you would’ve let me go, by now. If you really loved me, I wouldn’t still have to tell you how much I hate it here.”

Less than a month ago, you’d yelled the same words. Screamed them, repeated them, told Bokuto how much you hated him and his friends and everything they’d forced onto you. Now, it’s all you can do to say them with enough strength not to crack under the pressure, not to give into the temptation to throw yourself at his chest and claw until he’s the villain again and you’re helpless, just an uninvolved bystander in your own suffering.

To your credit, it’s a fleeting urge, one that’s gone by the time you roll onto your side, away from Bokuto, curling into yourself as he settles against your back. There’s a heavy sigh, another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. His arm wraps around your waist, but there’s no attempt to drag you closer, no attempt to go any further. You almost wish he would.

It’d be easier to cry yourself to sleep, if you could blame him for forcing you to.

~

Akaashi reminds you of your co-workers, all the time.

He spends so much time working, it’d be impossible not to draw the connection. He smells like an office, like ink and metal and more chemicals than an editor should use, and he feels like one, too, his skin always cold and his hands always quick to clamp down around anything warm and kicking and alive. It reminds you of the receptionist who used to give you a hug every morning, a sourceless gesture that was always a little too tight to be comfortable. Of Kuroo’s handshake, when you were first called back after your initial interview. You suppose he has more right to the position than Akaashi, you must’ve worked under him for months, but Kuroo invited you out for drinks, he made small talk, he could take off his suit and defrost when he wanted to.

Akaashi couldn’t. Akaashi can’t.

That, or he won’t, and you don’t know which option scares you more.

It doesn’t help that he works so often, either, even when he’s home. You can try to block it out, try to ignore the constant click of his keyboard, the occasional creak of his chair whenever Akaashi tries to reposition himself, but there’s only so much you can do on his lap, your arms strung over his shoulders and your face buried in his chest, your sleep-deprived mind momentarily forgetting its distaste in favor of seeking out as much comfort as it could.

That might be what drives you to speak, to break the silence as Akaashi bows his head, his lips brushing against the dip of your shoulder while his hands fall from his laptop to your hips. As always, his touch is cold, unnerving, the shirt he’d forced you to borrow doing little to protect you from the chill. “I hate you.”

There’s a tap to your side, a noise of acknowledgement. “I know, angel. You’ve mentioned it before.”

“So much,” You go on, your voice muffled by his sweatshirt. “More than the others. Every night I fantasize about slitting your throat and stuffing one of your stupid toys in the wound. I still have a scar from that fucking collar.”

This time, you get a hum, low and absent-minded. “A small one,” He adds. “Kenma’s done worse, and I’ve already apologized.”

He has. This is an old argument, one you’re still mad about, but one you know you’ll never resolve, not with someone so apathetic. So, you try a different approach. Not something more honorable, but something different. Something that wouldn’t leave a coat of ash on your tongue, hopefully. “My friends probably think I’m dead by now, my family too.” It feels good to say, but it feels awful, at the same time. Like you’re admitting defeat. Like you’re submitting to the same man who's been whispering those very same words to you since your first night spent in his loving care. “Even if I get out, you’ve already ruined my life. I won’t have anywhere to go back to, not a job, no place to--”

“That’s a good thing, right?” It’s an innocent question, judging by his tone. You try not to take it as one. “You always hated your job.”

It’s almost a reflex to defend yourself. “I never--”

“Yes, you did.” If it was Bokuto, you could’ve told yourself he’d been fed a lie, or pushed into a delusion that featured you as a damsel in distress and him as your big, strong, brave hero. If it was Kuroo, you could’ve told yourself that he wanted you to believe you hated your job, your old life, everything he was kind enough to rip you away from. Kozume would’ve been uninterested enough to stop the conversation before you started to spiral, but you’re not talking to Kozume, or Kuroo, or Bokuto. You’re talking to Akaashi, and Akaashi doesn’t care whether or not you’re happy. He doesn’t have a reason to lie to you, not about something so mundane. “That’s why we had to take you home. You were too stressed, I was getting worried.” He pauses, his hands moving to your sides, pulling you away from his chest. You don’t resist, but you don’t look up, either, not until he cups your cheeks in his palms, his voice suddenly going from sterile to soft in the space between one breath and another. “It was painful to watch, it was painful for all of us. I know it’s hard to see from your perspective, but you used to cry so much, and you were so close to falling apart. We just did what we thought would help.”

“So you decided to kidnap me?” It’s the harshest you’ve been in weeks, even if you barely manage to raise your voice. You grab his wrists, but you don’t try to jerk him away. Instead, you settle on digging your nails into his skin, and in return, Akaashi ignores your minor show of rebellion. “You’re not doing me a favor. You’ll never convince me I want this, because I don’t. If you have to tell me I’m happy, it’s only because you know I’m not.”

“You’re not happy, but you’re happier than you used to be.” He doesn’t try to make light of the revelation, but his neutral expression still cracks, leaving the smallest smile in its place. Not amused, but not sympathetic, either. Not malicious, but certainly not kind enough to spare your feelings. “It’s easier, and I think you know that. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You just couldn’t handle life without a little help.”

You pull away, jerking your head out of his hands and crossing your arms in front of you, putting as much distance between you and Akaashi as you can. “You’re lying. You’re lying, and you’re not even doing it well.”

You can feel him let out a breath of a laugh, leaning forward just enough to push a kiss into your temple before drawing back, content to admire the long-awaited results of his work.

“Of course I am, angel.”

~

Kozume doesn’t remind you of anything, and it’s unbearable.

You’d worked with Kuroo, intimately. He’d introduced you to Bokuto, and you’d met Akaashi at his games, even if the two of you never shared more than a few polite niceties about the match at-hand. Kozume’s the only one who’s new to you, he’s the only one who’s just your kidnapper, even if he fit the role well. You can’t sympathize with him, because there’s nothing to sympathize with. You can’t understand his irrational connection with you, because he’s never bothered to offer an explanation. It shouldn’t upset you as much as it does. It shouldn’t be as awful as it is. He shouldn’t make you feel as disgusting as you do, but he does. You don’t know why, but he does, and you can’t forgive him because of it.

It’s almost a relief when you wake up alone on the edge of Kozume’s bed, tucked under heavy black sheets with sunlight already spilling through the open window. You consider rolling over, trying to go back to sleep, but you can already hear a lock clicking in the distance, light footsteps moving over wood as Kozume steps in, leaning against the doorway as he watches you start to stir. You’re purposefully lethargic, taking the time to sit up and rub your eyes until it doesn’t hurt to blink, but Kozume’s content to stare on. Part of you hopes you’ll get used to it, soon. The rest of you tries to smother the idea before it can spread.

“Mornin’,” He calls, when you make it clear you’re awake. He’s dressed, not formally, just jeans and a hoodie, but it’s more than you’ve come to expect from Kozume. Somehow, it only makes him seem more alien. “I’ve got few meetings today, Tetsuro’s out of town, Bokuto’s training, and Akaashi doesn’t get off until this afternoon, so you should have the house to yourself until sunset, at least.” There’s a glance to the floor, a quiet laugh. Despite everything, he can still seem shy when he wants to. “If you promise not to break anything, I could forget to lock you up before I leave. It’s not like you’d try to get out, anyway.”

“I would.” It’d be a damning confession with anyone else, but Kozume doesn’t blink twice. He’s already made up his mind, which means nothing you say matters. “I hate it here, and all of you know that.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t leave.” His voice is calm, his tone playful, but Kozume’s eyes narrow as he steps forward, and you square your shoulders, trying to glaring at the sheets rather than him. Still, you can feel him hovering over you, making you squirm as he goes on. “I mean, why would you want to? It’s not like have anything to go back to. Hell, from the way it looks, we might’ve been the only ones who stil pretend to miss you.”

“Of course I’d want to,” You snap, trying not to ball his sheets in your fists, trying not to acknowledge how reasonable he sounds, trying to ignore the part of your brain screaming for you to calm down before you make things worse for yourself. “I have a family. I have friends. I have a life outside of lying down, closing my eyes, and letting you live out whatever sick, perverted fantasy you’re trying to--”

“That’s not what I asked.” He doesn’t try to talk over you. He doesn’t have to, not when there’s already so little strength behind your argument. “You should want to escape, but…” Finally, his smile falters, but the unbothered frown that takes its place is no less comforting. He shrugs as he speaks, and you have to fight the urge to shrink into yourself. “Do you?”

You open your mouth. You open your mouth, then you close it again, then you close your eyes and drag your knees up to your chest, glaring childishly at the mattress, behaving exactly how they want you to. Kozume doesn’t try to push you any further. He doesn’t ask another question, he doesn’t force you to anwer, only sighing as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, slotting himself against your side, holding you. It’s cruel of him to do. It’s a small mercy. It’s nothing, it means nothing, but he’s mocking you, at the same time, belittling you, humiliating you. You hate him for it, but at the same time, you’re not sure you can. You’re so tired. You’re so, so tired, and you’re not sure you can be anything else, anymore.

You’re not sure you know if he’s wrong, anymore.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere scenario #haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #Haikyu!! #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyu #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! imagines #haikyu imagines #kenma x reader #yandere kenma #yandere kuroo #kuroo x reader #yandere bokuto #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore

[pascalslittlebrat]

Drunk Dial

Rating: T

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 4223

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, tiny bit of language, other than that this is just some soft shit with a bit of angst

Summary: Javier left you broken years ago. Now he’s back and after a little too many drinks with friends, you can’t help the draw to call him and let the liquid courage try to give him a piece of your mind.

A/N: big thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog for Writer’s Wednesday, I saw the picture last night and immediately started writing this. Forgive any mistakes I wrote this around 1am and honestly fell asleep at some point. May this make up for the more deep angst I’ve put out😂 Big thanks to @mothandpidgeon for keeping me from overthinking! Enjoy me once again trying to write a drabble and ending up with a One Shot and me being slightly self indulgent in wanting someone to keep my ass grounded during hard shit.

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“Hello?” the familiar deep voice answered hoarsely on the other line. God, how many years had it been since you had heard that grumpy tone?

Your heart races at the sound of Javier’s voice and you couldn’t help but be thankful for the liquid courage flowing through your veins or you’d be kicking yourself for obviously waking him up or even calling him in the first place. “Javiiiii,” you giggle leaning against the phone booth, the coolness of the glass feeling good against your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re awake.”

“It’s two in the morning I wasn-Y/N?! Are you drunk?” Javier asked and you can hear the frown in his tone. He sits up in his bed the moment he recognizes your voice, of all the calls he expected tonight, he wasn’t expecting one from you. Not after what he did.

You shrug as if he could see you, playing with the cord, “I’m not drunkk, I’m just tipsy and it’s your fault. I had 5 shots because I couldn’t get your stupid big head out of mind.” You pout, your emotions starting to shift, the hurt mixing into your tone. You didn’t drink often for this reason, you always felt so cheery and happy at first but then sadness seemed to always creep up once the drinks started to fade out of your system.

Javier gulps at your answer, he runs a hands over his eyes, wiping away any exhaustion he was feeling. He had been known you long enough to know that tipsy meant you were drunk and you being drunk meant you would definitely need someone soon. “Where are you? Are you at home?” he asks as he gets up, holding the handset between his cheek and shoulder as he grabs his pants off the floor pulling them over his naked form.

“Umm…” you purse your lips looking around, trying to remember which bar your friends had dragged you to for the night. They had forced a girls night on you to keep you from doing exactly what you were doing now, looking for Javier Peña. What had started as just a margaritas at your favorite Tex-Mex restaurant had turned into bar hopping over Laredo.

You mumble a fuck as you turn to face the bar and almost run into the glass of the booth. Javi silently curses whoever had decided to let you drink as much as you had without keeping an eye on you. “Lonestar Bruisers,” you mumble out as you look at the flashing bar sign, watching as the words shift. “What a weird name...I got a bruise though, I hit my knee on the dummy bar stool.” You then gasp the touch of sadness you had been feeling slipping into the emotion of shock, clutching the receiver closer as if you had just discovered some secret and didn’t want anyone to hear, “Javiii! That’s why they call it Lonestar Bruisers, because I got a bruise!”

Javier tries not to smile, you were definitely always something when you were drunk. So giggly and smiley, you always lit up the room even more when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. But he also knew the edge he had heard to your tone earlier, the one that he had learned signaled the courage of the alcohol starting to slip and soon you’d be feeling something worse if someone didn’t get you home and in bed. He always hated to see the way your mind would get the best of you. “Mariposa, it’s Lonestar Brewers. I’m right down the road, are you alone? Tell me you’re not alone,” he asks, pulling a shirt over his head, hoping the image of you standing in a phone booth alone in the middle of the night was wrong.

You almost drop the phone out of your hand when you hear him use his old nickname for you. You feel the tears well in your eyes, the memory of years of friendship and love running through your head, the reason you had even called Javier in the first place, “Y-You can’t call me that. I don’t need you to come, you didn’t even tell me you were back.” Your voice cracks at the last sentence, the old wounds from years passed, open up, the night that caused this all. “And I’m not alone, Kelli and Rebecca and…I think her name is Cassie...I don’t know but I’m not alone… Well I’m alone outside cause duh I’m in a phonebooth but they’re inside, I bet they have shots...I need more shots.”

Javier sighs, he knew he had been wrong to not contact you. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to come back quietly, everyone in town knew everything. So of course word would get around to you that he was back, he had just hoped he had prepared enough to be the one to go see you. He had planned to see you, to discuss the night he threw everything to shit, he just hadn’t found the courage, or the will, not after he was still processing the reason he had even been sent back to Laredo. “Marip-Y/N, I need you to go inside. You shouldn’t be out there alone, someone could hurt you,” Javi says gently, trying to mask his worry, he had seen too many women hurt over the past few years.

He might not have been in Colombia but that didn’t mean that there weren't bastards around waiting for a chance to take advantage of an innocent woman. “No more shots, ask for water, I’m on my way. If you all have been drinking, you’re not getting in the car with any of those girls,” he grits out, just as he knew you, he knew your friend group and Kelli hadn’t always been the best influence on you. He could feel the old irritation towards your oldest friend already flaring knowing she wasn’t watching over you.

“You can’t tell me what to do Javier,” you snap at him as you look out the booth wiping your eyes. It was a dark night, the only glow of light came from the bar’s sign and the street lamps across the street of North Central Park, fog filled the outside air, almost as thick as the Texas humidity. You frowned, hating the shiver that ran up your spine, maybe he was right to go inside, “I’m going to hang up now, I shouldn’t have called you. It’s almost out of time, I’m out of coins, and I just don’t want to talk to you meanie pants.”

“Y/N just sit st-” Javi starts before the line cuts off. He groans running his hands over his face before grabbing his keys and knowing you were definitely going to be a joy when he picked you up.

******

He expected more of a scene from you when he had walked into the bar. You were indeed nursing another glass of alcohol and you had told the bartender how he was the meanie head that you had been complaining about. Javier had rolled his eyes and told you it was time to go home. You had glared at him and made sure to down the rest of your drink out of spite before telling him you wouldn’t leave without your friends.

He dealt with the glares that each one gave him, raising his hand to stop Kelli from chewing him out and refrained from telling her off himself too. You were his sole focus and he wasn’t going to waste any time arguing with someone he never saw eye to eye with in the first place.

You definitely had way too many drinks and she should have known better than to let you get this far gone. For your sake, he would take care of both you and them. He knew that would be the only way you’d let him drag you off anyways, if you knew your friends would be okay. He had called a cab and gave them money to pay for it, before throwing your arm over his shoulder and helping you out as you tried and failed to keep the world from wobbling underneath you.

You argued with him that you could go home with your friends the whole way out of the bar. He silenced you with his narrowed eyes. There was no way he wouldn’t make sure you got straight to bed and not to another place where they might hand you more drinks or be too inebriated to make sure you didn’t get sick or help you if your anxiety starts to hit. He wouldn’t fail you, not in this at least. He always took care of you then and nothing could stop him from doing it now. It didn’t make up for what he did, but it was the least he could do for you after years of leaving you alone, hurt.

“I don’t want to go home yettt! I’m having fun,” you whine as Javi tries to help you into his truck, catching you as you stumble. You’re glaring at him and pouting, arms crossed over your chest as he gets you settled into the seat and buckling you in, “I’m not a child Javier.”

Javier can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at your words, especially with just how much of a child you looked like in that moment. He knew if you had been standing outside of the truck still, you’d stomp your foot. “Could have fooled me, mariposa,” he gestures to your crossed arms and you stick the tongue out at him as he closes the door.

He decides he’ll just let you crash in his bed, the ranch was closer than your home and he could still feel how exhausted he was. He hadn’t exactly been sleeping well since he had arrived back in Laredo.

He practically jumps out of his skin when he feels your hand on his arm. He hadn’t expected your touch, at least not out of your own free will. “Javi, you’re not holding my hand, you always held my hand,” you pout out, as you take his hand in yours.

Javi hates it, almost finds it cruel actually,how much your hand still fits perfectly in his hand. How soft and small it was under his calloused and larger one. He hates how much he has missed it, how much he enjoys it. He had always been a man that depended on touch, you had always told him just a single touch from him could tell you how he felt. You had always been good at reading him, knowing that sometimes the simplest touch was just what he needed to keep him grounded to what was in front of him and not spiraling into whatever chaos was going through his head.

He felt the ache in his heart as he remembered the way you would smile at him and call out each touch. “That’s your ‘I love you’ touch.” “That’s your ‘it’s been a bad day’ touch’” “That’s your ‘I just felt like grabbing you ass because I can’ touch” You were silent next to him and he wondered if maybe you were dozing off already, smiling a bit to himself at the old memories. He could only hope that maybe this would be a time you could avoid your sad side effects of drinking.

He gave your hand a squeeze as he pulled into the ranch. “That’s your ‘I’ve needed this, I missed you’ touch” you breathed out and Javier froze, he glanced over at you. You weren’t wrong, as always. You were staring at him intently, gazing at him in the dark, trying to read him. You gave him a small smile and he felt his heart drop at how broken it looked, lacking the complete joy it used to.

He parks in front of the guest house where he stayed, glad that he wouldn’t have to worry about waking Chucho. “Why did you bring me here?” you ask, frowning and pulling your hand from his. Javier misses it the moment you do, hating how he could feel the hurt resonating off of you now. He had caused this.

“We were closer to the ranch. I don’t think you’d make it up the stairs to your apartment either,” he say softly and watches as you just nod before he gets out of the truck to help you out. He opens your door and takes your hand, putting the other on your hip to keep you steady as he helps you down.

The world still feels like it’s spinning and you grab Javi’s shoulders as you lay your head on his chest. He still smells the same as he had years before, woodsy, musk, minty, and something else that was just pure Javier that you could never put your finger on. You can’t help but laugh in his chest as another realization hits you, “You don’t smell like cigarettes.”

“I’m trying the nicotine gum to stop” Javier answers, wrapping his arms around you, he knew at any moment you could push him away again, so he wanted to enjoy the feeling of you holding him close. He couldn’t deny the need he had to be held after everything that had gone on, to just feel the comfort of someone’s arms around him and to be lucky enough to be having you doing the honors? It took everything in him to break the dam of emotions he had going on. The emotions of everything in Colombia with losing Carrillo, chasing after Escobar, working with Los Pepes to still holding onto everything that had happened the night he left and hurt you came to head and it was overwhelming how much he had been choking down.

He holds you tighter, clinging onto you, to keep centered. He focuses on the sense of you pressed against him, the sweet scent of you mixed with alcohol, the way you were holding him just as tight. Then he notices the now wetness against his stomach and his heart clenches realizing you were now softly crying against him, “Mariposa, what’s wrong?”

You hated it, hated that you were now crying against him. How could he still cause you such an easy comfort for you even after he had left you behind with no explanation? It wasn’t fair that after all these years, just his scent and being in his arms still made you feel the safest and at home. You look up at him, tears flowing, moving your hands to grasp his shirt, “Why did you leave Javi? H-how could you just leave me like that?”

Javier gulped,a hand coming back to rub the back of his neck. He wanted to feel like he had been prepared for this conversation but he wasn’t. He breathes out a sigh, wiping your tears off gently with his thumbs, he presses a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s not talk about that right now, let’s get you to bed, we’ll talk tomorrow when you’re not drunk.”

You shake your head, frowning at him. You tug on his shirt to let him know you weren’t going anywhere. You needed the answers, you had spent too long needing them. “No, I want to know now Javi. I deserve to know...I woke up and you were gone...then I have to have Chucho tell me that you had left? That my boyfriend had joined the DEA and left me a note, a-a fucking note Javi! You literally broke up with me through a note!”

Javi’s teeth clench, he always hated seeing you cry, he always tried to do everything to make sure he was never the cause of your tears. Yet he knew it, knew the pain he caused you when he left, the tears you had shed, and seeing it now hurt him, hurt him more than leaving you did. He holds you close to him, rubbing you back as you sob, “I...Let’s get you inside and I’ll answer you.”

You look at him through blurred vision, gently releasing the hold you had on his shirt, leaving it wrinkled from your touch. “You promise?” you ask weakly and Javier feels the pull in his heart, a line formed between his brows and he nodded at you before taking your hand in his and helping you inside.

He sat you down on his couch, helping you out of your shoes, before leaving you to grab you a glass of water. When he returned to your hand on your head, eyes closed. “Drink some water, we need to get you hydrated,” he tells you softly. You open your eyes and look at him, he could tell the sobering up was starting to happen and he hated that he was going to have to have this conversation with you like this. He sits down next to you and hands you the glass of water.

You mumble a thank you to him as you drink before laying your head on his shoulder, shifting closer to him. Javier sighs as he wraps an arm around you, rubbing circles on you shoulder, hoping you’ll doze off. Luck, however, was no on his side, “Javi...why did you leave..”

He sucks in a breath, you were looking up at him expectantly, eyes puffy and red from your tears. “You deserved better than me…” he answers out, admitting what had gone through his head the moment he had signed up to join the DEA.

“Bullshit Javi, I loved you, we were happy...at least I thought… I thought we were,” you trail off in the last part, you had spent years wondering if you had made everything up in you head.

Javier tilted your head up to look at him, he could sense it, you starting to get in your head. “I was happy with you baby, so fucking happy. But I was holding you back, do you think you would have finished your pharmacy degree if I had stayed? You were always so worried about me on the job, I felt like I wasn’t getting anything done here, I wasn’t helping enough people. You remember me complaining about how routine the job felt. I was making you worry and I just...I felt like if I left, then you would be better off. No worrying something would happen to me, you could focus on school, on bettering yourself. I also had found the letter, you got into the best pharmacy school in Texas, and your sister told me you were waiting to see if you got something closer to here because you didn’t want to leave me...One of the guys mentioned the DEA hiring in Austin and I honestly didn’t think they’d accept me but they did.”

You can feel the tears streaming down your face again as you listen to his words. Javi fights back his own, as he remembers how much he beat himself for making decisions without you. “I tried to figure out how to tell you. I just didn’t know how. I was a coward Y/N, here I was trying to go out and do something bigger, yet I couldn’t tell my girl how I was feeling like I was holding her back. I knew there was more danger in joining, how could I worry you more? If I left then I figured you’d leave, go to Houston, become the best pharmacist this damn state has ever seen,” his mouth quirks at the last part and you can’t help the chuckle that comes out. Javier had always been your number one fan in everything you did, as you had always been his.

His face becomes serious again, “I tried to figure out how to tell you...but I knew you’d either try to go with me. I couldn’t let you hold yourself back for me, to change your plans for me. I couldn’t keep you from reaching your dreams… that night...it was different… holding you the last time, I barely slept. I wanted to wake you and tell you everything but I couldn’t find the words. Pops, lectured me, I’m surprised he even gave you the note, he was so angry with me. He thought I had told you, then for me to just leave you that note. I think he was ready to beat my ass. He was disappointed in me for the longest time, could barely forgive me for doing that to you…”

You reach out to touch Javi’s cheek, he closes his eyes leaning into your touch. Every word he said was sobering you up more and more. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m really fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. I should have been more honest, I was an idiot. I just selfishly decided for myself and left, I shouldn’t have left you like that, you always treated me right, you always watched out for me, you always took care of me. We grew up together and you never got tired of my shit….I just…I thought it was the right thing to do.” He chuckles humorlessly, “You did become the best pharmacist though. Pops made sure to brag about how great you were doing in pharmacy school. He made sure to tell me about you, to keep me updated and to make me feel bad that I wasn’t here to see you doing as good as I knew you’d do. He called me a dumbass for not being here to see you graduate or to watch you open your own pharmacy. I’m proud of you, I was so proud of you, just know even away I was so proud of you every step of the way even though I know I shattered you first.”

You roll your eyes at Javier, you wanted to punch him in his pretty face if you were being honest with yourself. “You’re such a big dummy,” you scoff out rolling your eyes. Your head was starting to pound but you were thankful that your mind felt numbed still, so you could give him a piece of your mind. “You’re lucky I’ve had all these years to accept you leaving. It hasn’t stopped the ache or pain, obviously.” You bitterly think about the amount of drinks you had just tonight. “Because I would punch you right now but of course, you just left because Javier decided to be selfishly unselfish. You should have talked to me Javier, I never felt like you were holding me back. Yes, I worried about you, but so did all the other sheriff wives and girlfriends. I didn’t tell you about Houston, not just because I didn’t want to leave you, but because I was feeling unsure of myself and being a pharmacist too. I didn’t want to disappoint you if I decided to change careers! I would have been so proud of you being accepted, would I have gone with you? Probably. But it would have been MY choice Javier. I would have never tried to stop you from going and even if I didn’t go with you, we could have made it work. I loved you, I loved you so much and you just left me a note saying you were sorry and it was for the best that you left. It felt anything but the best!”

Javier flinches at your words and you sigh before placing both hands on his cheeks making him look at you, “How could someone as intelligent as you be such an idiot?”

You watch as his mouth twitches under your gaze, “Hell if I know, I seem to get in my head too much, don’t I?”

You give him a look letting him know that you can’t argue with him on that and he reaches out to caress your cheek. “I lost myself then, just like I lost myself now,” he mumbles out bitterly and you press your forehead against his, taking him in as you close your eyes.

“Sometimes we have to lose ourselves to find ourselves again,” you whisper out as you meet his eyes.

Javier takes you in, your gentle gaze, the soft touch of your hand going through his hair. It’s the first time since he had touched down in Laredo that he felt at home. “I still love you,” he says before he can stop himself. He had never stopped thinking about you and now with you in front of him, making him feel the calmest he has in years, he knows it’s true.

You freeze and he wants to apologize, tell you that you don’t have to say anything. But you smile at him as a tear falls from your right eye, “I still love you too, big meanie head.”

Javier smiles and it feels the most real it has in days, the first time he feels like he’s not forcing one out. It makes your heart soar seeing it, how you had missed seeing his bright smile.

You don’t know what the future holds, knowing the whispers around town that he would be leaving again soon. But in that moment, wrapped in his arms, his lips softly pressing against yours for the first time in years, it was just you and him and nothing else mattered.

permanent tags: @sleepylunarwolf @greeneyedblondie44

Those who may be interested: @mothandpidgeon @metalarmsandmanbuns @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @starlightmornings @waywardimpalawriter @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @purplepascal042

#Javier Peña x Reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x y/n #Javier Peña Fanfic #javier peña #my writing #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[azucanela]

OMG I AM OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING YOU ARE DEFINITELY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON TUMBLR NO CAP!!! i love ur zuko fics, and i wanted to request some sokka x reader!!! i want u to have complete creative freedom but i love how you write slowburn omg so some enemies to friends to lovers sokka content would be insaneeee! maybe reader is fire nation (zuko’s cousin/iroh’s daughter??) but joins the gaang after crossroads or something?

AFTER | SOKKA X READER

SUMMARY: Sokka didn’t expect the girl who held a knife to his neck to be the same girl he’d fall for. Y/N didn’t really expect to fall either. 

WORD COUNT: 10k

WARNINGS: injuries, implications of death, kisses, bloodbending, threats of bodily harm, death threats

A/N: time to give sokka the attention and hype he is OWED, also im SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGG but this is quite possibly my favorite Y/N. writing for sokka is hard tho. im not sure how much i like this tbh but its really long omg. also thank you!!!! i feel honored to be considered the best :D you are too kind

When she was younger, Y/N joined Azula’s little troupe of girls. Though she wasn’t some loyal little soldier for her to order around, no, Y/N never feared Azula. Nor did she follow her blindly. No, it had always been a struggle for power between the two. Even when her father was booted from the throne as the rightful heir. 

Losing her brother made her wonder if giving up like her father had in Ba Sing Se was the easy way out. Perhaps thats why she promised herself she would never give up. Maybe thats why she challenged Azula to... an unofficial duel when she’d heard her comment. Challenged her and won. 

The new Fire Lord’s pride and joy had lost against his niece, a shame. 

Y/N hadn’t thought much of it, but it probably would’ve explained why Fire Lord Ozai was rather pleased when Y/N had came to him and explained her intents to go alongside her father and cousin in banishment. She was, no matter how unlikely, another potential heir to the throne. And unlike Zuko, an actual threat. Sending her on a journey to find someone who’d been missing for a century was the best way to get rid of her. 

If Y/N was honest, she viewed the banishment as more of a vacation. All her life, she had to deal with banquets, politics, war tactics, all at such a young age. It was tiring, and dull, spending day and night in the palace doing such things. Now, she had the opportunity to travel the world, though her grumpy cousin was rushing them throughout each spot, it was still nice. Zuko certainly didn’t think so, given that they hadn’t found the Avatar yet, not that Y/N believed they ever would but, it is what it is.

A sigh escaped her as she sat, on leg propped up against the other on the deck of the ship, they had arrived in the Southern Water Tribe after seeing an odd light in the distance. Maybe it was cruel, but Y/N sincerely hoped they didn’t find the Avatar. She didn’t want her vacation to end, she didn’t want to return to the politics, and she didn’t want to deal with one of the most powerful people on the planet. Aside from her own desires, Y/N couldn’t help but disapprove of Zuko’s need to please his father, the man who’d hurt him beyond forgiveness.

She sincerely doubted her father approved either. Though their relationship had been strained for some time now. Y/N didn’t hate her father, she doubted that was possible, he was a kind man and a good father. Things between them simply felt... off. She liked to think she’d gotten over it, the initial jealously she felt when she discovered her father intended to join Zuko on his hunt for the Avatar.

When she’d found out from Fire Lord Ozai. 

Sometimes she wondered if her father even intended to say goodbye. But she wasn’t a fool, Y/N knew he had recently lost a son, they were both hurting and Zuko needed someone who wasn’t going to hurt him if he did something wrong. Though, Y/N saw him try to save the lives of the soldiers of the so-called great Fire Nation, not do something wrong. Regardless, Zuko needed a father figure, yes. But Y/N needed a father as she grappled with the death of her brother. 

Maybe she was just a little bitter about it. 

“Are you coming?” Zuko asked, his words coming out harshly.

Raising a brow, Y/N shook her head, “no. Don’t get too violent, though.” She warned, looking at him pointedly, “they’re a small tribe that’s going extinct.” 

Zuko rolled his eyes as he exclaimed, “that’s not my fault!”

Sitting up to face him, Y/N smacked him upside the head as she walked past him, “considering the royal family, which you are a part of need I remind you, ordered the genocide of every single Waterbender they had...” She paused, cracking her knuckles before turning to look back at Zuko, “I would say you that everyone here probably blames you for it by assosiation.” Y/N reasoned. She had never liked the history that her ancestors had, much less approved.

Taken aback, Zuko exclaimed, “you’re a part of the royal family too!”  Y/N was well aware of the circumstances surrounding his banishment, he’d tried to save lives, but war was the only thing that mattered to the Fire Nation it appeared. 

His attempt at defense simply earned him a shrug, “perhaps.” Y/N didn’t consider herself a member of the royal family, and she doubted her father did either. And no matter what Zuko thought, though he was royal by blood, his banishment severed his ties to the throne permanently.

Unless they happened to find the Avatar, though that wasn’t very likely, Y/N decided she would rethinking her life choices should the Avatar be here of all places, as she rested her forearms on the side of the ship and watched Zuko march down his soldiers.

She wasn’t going to tell him that the Southern Water Tribe didn’t have a military, much less benders. As previously mentioned, the genocide destroyed the benders, and the most of the soldiers in the village had headed off to fight in the war against the Fire Nation. Though her brow did raise as she watched him yank an old lady from the small crowd of people, Y/N straightened her back, preparing to get involved. 

Of course, a young warrior ended up running at her cousin, war paint and all as he attempted to attack. Key word being attempted. Watching him fall face first into the snow, Y/N realized he wasn’t a warrior, but a boy. The Avatar also happened to be a boy. A very, very young boy. Not a century year old Airbender. 

Y/N supposed it was time to start rethinking her life. 

Sokka didn’t know what he was supposed to do as he helped Princess Yue onto the Sky Bison. They needed to find Aang’s physical body, quickly, otherwise he wouldn’t be returning to the real world, and they happened to be fresh out of Avatars up until recently so that wasn’t really an option. Not when they needed the balance of the world to be restored immediately. 

Sighing, Sokka moved to get onto the Sky Bison, only to be yanked backwards, stumbling before having a knife pressed to his neck. “What the hell!” He exclaimed in shock, garnering the attention of the others that were already on Appa. Katara’s mouth gaping open at the sight of him as Princess Yue cried out in shock.

The knife against his neck is certainly uncomfortable, and he realizes that he probably should’ve stuck around Kyoshi Island long enough to learn how to get out a situation like this. “I’m coming with you. Someone has to make sure Zuko doesn’t do anything else dumb.” Comes a voice from behind him, and Sokka’s brows furrowed in confusion, who was this? And why were they trying to kill him? More importantly, how did they know Prince Zuko, the guy who had been chasing them since Aang had come out of that iceberg. Questions ran rampant through his mind, and he nearly forgot that his life was being threatened.

That was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the moment. 

Though he couldn’t see the person behind him, he could see Katara grimace at her demand, anyone associated with Prince Zuko likely had a similar end goal, to capture the Avatar. This wasn’t something they could allow, and Sokka recognized this as Katara asked, “why should we trust you?” Katara’s eyes soon met Sokka’s and he knew that no matter what he said, she would give into the girl’s demands for his safety. Sokka mentally scolded himself for failing to prevent this situation. 

The girl behind him scoffed, “unlike my dear cousin,” Sokka couldn’t help the shock that flooded him, cousin? As in Zuko is this girl’s cousin? Or did she mean someone else? He was kidding himself, there was no one else it could be. “I like banishment, it’s like a fun little vacation. I could care less about the Avatar.” The knife draws in closer to Sokka’s neck, nearly drawing blood, likely expressing the fact that she could care less if Katara believed her. Though Sokka doubted she didn’t care about the Avatar, he was one of the most important people in the world. 

But Sokka would likely die if she didn’t agree, or at least end up fatally injured. No matter how far Katara had come with her Waterbending, she hadn’t perfected it yet, and healing was only so effective. Sokka sincerely doubted she could beat the speed of this girl and her weapon considering the fact that she’d gotten the jump on them the first time around. Death wasn’t something he wanted, but anyone who knew Zuko couldn’t be trusted, much less someone who shared his blood. If he turned out... like that, Sokka didn’t want to imagine how this stranger ended up.

“Don’t try anything.” Katara warned, eyeing the girl wearily. Though it was an empty threat for the most part, in the air, there was little Katara could do against a foe. Though three, well two if you exclude the princess, against one seemed like favorable odds, this girl seemed talented in combat, even without bending.

She released Sokka, and he turned to see her beaming up at Katara, “happy to be doing business with ya.” Turning to Sokka, she looked him up and down, sizing him up before speaking, “be a gentleman and help me up?” Yeah, she was crazy. The pretty ones are always crazy. That, and she was Zuko’s cousin, it made sense. Though Sokka was fairly sure that she was joking, you could never be too sure.

“Who even are you?!” He exclaimed, exasperated and preparing to whip out his boomerang as he glared at her. He didn’t recognize her, but she’d likely been traveling with Zuko for quite some time now if they were related.

She just shrugged, “you can call me Y/N.” She got onto Appa with ease, Katara on guard a she eyed her, eyes piercing into her soul, Y/N raised a brow upon noticing this, “calm down. I wouldn’t have killed him.”

Katara inhaled deeply, trying to maintain patience as Sokka got into the saddle, “yip, yip.”

Y/N wasn’t really shocked when it turned out Azula was after them. Of course good old Uncle Ozai sent his most valuable asset to bring them back. Though some good at come of it, Zuko cut his ponytail, something Y/N had taken pleasure in bullying him over. Now they were on the run, in the very city that her father had tried to run to the ground all those years ago. 

Irony at its finest.

Tugging at the sleeves of her Earth Kingdom garments, Y/N sighed, walking through the streets of the city. She didn’t know where she was if she was honest, and standing in the beautiful plaza, Y/N wondered if maybe, it would be better if she never returned back to that horrid apartment. Her father was starting over, getting them all jobs at a tea shop, even Zuko had tried to move on, going out on a date with a girl. 

The Earth Kingdom was an odd place, but here, no one knew who she was. It wouldn’t be difficult to restart, alone. Without the expectations she’d been raised with. Fists balling up, Y/N exhaled slowly, turning a corner. There wasn’t graffiti in this part of the city, she realized, staring at the walls. Though there was an odd poster, squinting at it, she moved closer. It was a poorly drawn image of-

A Sky Bison. The same one she’d ridden on back during the Siege of the North, not that any others existed, the Sky Bison were a dying breed. Which could only mean one thing, the Avatar was in Ba Sing Se. 

"Have you seen him?” She heard from behind her. Y/N recognized the voice, it belonged to the boy she’d held at knife point, “the drawing isn’t my best but-”

Turning around she spoke rapidly, “don’t freak out.” This was a problem.

Y/N liked to think she was the least threatening of the Royal Family, aside from her father that is. Though they could both be lethal in their own ways, neither demonstrated the true extents of their power unless it was truly necessary. Maybe that’s why Y/N hoped that the boy, Sokka, she believed his name was, wouldn’t freak out.

Of course, he did. Dropping the posters in his hand, he opened his mouth, likely to scream, only for Y/N to practically tackle him. She slammed his body against the wall, covering his mouth with her hand as she glared at him. Sokka let out a grunt of surprise, immediately beginning to struggle in her hold, “calm down! I don’t have a knife this time around.” Y/N cried out, her voice a hushed whisper. Of course, what she said was a lie, she always had at least three weapons on her. Upon entering the city, she’d knocked that number down to only two weapons, much to her dismay and Iroh’s relief.

She felt him lick her hand, and she quickly removed her hand in disgust, while keeping the other planted on his shoulder, they both exclaimed, “what the hell!”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed at her, “look. I don’t wanna cause a scene, so I’m just gonna go-” He sighed when her hand remained on his shoulder, firmly holding him against the wall as he tried to move away only to be pushed back into the wall. “Or not.” 

“Look, you cannot go back to your little group and tell them that I’m here.” Y/N tried to choose her words carefully, if she didn’t need to, she didn’t want to suggest that her father and Zuko were also in the city. “I’m trying to have a permanent vacation, away from the Fire Nation and my crazy family, in Ba Sing Se.” She explained, slowly removing her hand from his shoulder, “think you can respect that?”

He looked at her wearily, during their last interaction, she’d made no attempts to actually injure them. And when she had the Avatar right in front of her, unlike Zuko, she hadn’t tried to kidnap him. Y/N had been honest last time, and chances were, she was being honest now. That didn’t make him feel any better about trusting her though. 

“How do I know you won’t follow me and kill me in my sleep?”

Y/N looked at him incredulously, “is that a joke?” She’d considered that too though, the possibility that he’d follow her back to her shared apartment and alert his friends of their location. Y/N refused to be the reason that they lost their new lives in Ba Sing Se, and had already decided to check into an inn for the night. 

Raising a brow at her, Sokka gestured for her to give him an answer, and Y/N stared at him momentarily, “well. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?” Y/N retorted.

Sokka rolled his eyes at her, “I’m a good person.” Came his response.

“Debatable.” 

Sokka stared at her in disbelief, “I’m trying to save the world here!” He exclaimed, and Y/N wasn’t shocked by his response, her goal had been to fluster him and she had.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N replied, “sure.” Stretching her arms upwards, she waves to him, “don’t tell your friends I was here, and we’re good.” She began to walk further into the alley, towards the other side, “see you around.” If he was here, his friends were probably around the area as well, meaning she had to leave.

His mouth gaped open and he stared at her figure as she stalked off, pausing momentarily before groaning and running after her, ending up at her side. “What do you mean, sure?” Sokka asked, confusion laced in his tone. 

Y/N raised a brow at him. “What are you doing?”  She wanted to laugh at his reaction, though he was now following her liked a lovesick puppy, which could prove problematic. 

Crossing his arms he responded, “making sure you don’t do anything bad.” Sokka eyed her suspiciously, “because I am a good person.” He asserted.

“And I’m a bad person?”

She already knew he was going to say, ‘yes, yes you are.’ After all, she was from the Fire Nation, and Y/N had no doubt she’d done terrible things in her life, especially when she’d fallen into a dark place and taken on... less than favorable coping mechanisms. 

And he’s silent for a moment, leaving Y/N to wonder if he suddenly cares about the feelings of the enemy. Only for him to say, “in my experience... good people can do bad things.” 

That wasn’t what she expected. Y/N found herself stunned, speechless as she looked to Sokka, though he simply continued to walk alongside her nonchalantly. Quickly collecting herself, she looks away from him and to the nearby food stand, “that didn’t answer my question.” And as Sokka opened his mouth to likely continue his statement, Y/N realized she didn’t want to know the answer as she spoke, “you want food? I want food. Let’s get food.”

Sighing, Sokka followed her, “as long as you don’t poison me.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed at his comment, looking back at him, “do you-” A small laugh escaped her, “do you think I just carry around poison?” 

Sokka didn’t know why he swelled with pride when he made her laugh, “in case you run into your enemies, absolutely.” It was probably because she was the enemy, and it took real talent to make someone who hated you laugh. 

“How often do you think I run into my enemies and invite them to get food with me?” She asked, picking up a few things from the stand, before heading over to pay.

Frowning, Sokka watches her pay, “I thought we were bonding over,” he paused to take a meat bun from her and shove it into her face dramatically, “meat! Yet, I’m still your enemy.”

Y/N simply shrugged, “this is a one time thing.”

It was not a one time thing. 

Sokka found himself ‘coincidentally’ running into Y/N, more and more often. She’d be walking through the streets of the upper ring about once a week, though she had started walking through the streets of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se far more frequently than normal in recent weeks. He’d been meaning to ask her why, maybe she’d also grown accustomed to their meetings and started to come around more. During their meetups they’d talk, about things other than the war, which was a conversation difficult to come by with the others. Though he cared for his friends, talking to Y/N felt different, a good different. She wasn’t overbearing like Katara, or mean like Toph, but she also wasn’t as passive as Aang. 

It was odd. Knowing someone who had once held a knife to your neck in a more friendly way. Though, if Sokka was honest, he didn’t trust her, and she likely didn’t trust him either. They’d both taken precautions due to the mistrust between them, not that be blamed her. At the end of the day, they were still on opposing sides, kind of. Y/N had never seemed to care about finding the Avatar, but she was certainly loyal to her family above all else.

She’d demonstrated that in the Northern Water Tribe. 

Sokka was the same, if he had saw an inkling of betrayal as a possibility, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the others. Their safety was his priority at the end of the day, and Y/N didn’t owe him anything, just like he didn’t owe her anything. Maybe that was the beauty of it all. But for now, everything remained peaceful, calming, and simple.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. 

Katara had oddly disappeared after Aang arrived with news of his vision. And then, as though things couldn’t get any weirder, Iroh arrived, Y/N’s apparent Father Iroh. Toph seemed to know him well, which certainly came as a shock to Sokka and Aang. “I need your help, Prince Zuko has been captured.” He explained, opening his mouth to continue only for Sokka to interrupt. He couldn’t help it when his brows furrowed in both confusion and frustration, Y/N had never suggested that the rest of her family was here.

“Are you crazy? You guys were trying to capture Aang not to long ago!” Sokka pointed out, throwing his arms outwards, “why not get Y/N to help?” She was certainly capable of raiding the palace and retrieving her cousin.

At this comment, Iroh’s face darkened, “we were separated in the palace. I’m unsure if they managed to capture her or if she escaped.” Oh. So that’s what he was going to say. 

Sokka couldn’t help it when his face dropped, looking to Iroh he exclaimed, “well- why didn’t you lead with that!” Pushing past Aang who had been prepared to start giving a speech on why they should assist Iroh, only for his mouth to gape open as Sokka headed for the door.

“Why are you so eager?” Toph asked as they began to follow him out the door.

He faltered, quickly trying to think up a good excuse as he replied, “no reason.” 

Toph’s frowned, “I can tell when you’re lying Sokka.” She reminded him. 

“We can discuss this later!” He exclaimed, flustered. “Let’s go.”

Y/N had contemplated killing Zuko before. 

It had never really been serious, as far as she would’ve gone was maybe injuring him badly enough that she got her point across. But at the end of the day, she protected Zuko to the best of her ability, and tried to keep his mind from being poisoned by the Fire Nation ideals that she’d once lived by unquestionably. 

Now she actually wanted him dead. He stood alongside Azula, who had offered Y/N her spot in her little gang hours ago, though she’d rejected the offer much to Azula’s chagrin. But she seemed sure that Y/N would accept some time soon. Perhaps it was because Zuko had betrayed her father and left him to the Dai Li. 

He had betrayed her father, the man who had practically raised both of them. 

Y/N had a violent past, she wouldn’t deny, and she liked to think that she was past all that. But looking at the situation ahead of them, watching the Waterbender, Sokka’s sister, Katara, cry over the body of the Avatar, she realized that maybe violence was the answer. Just this once. 

So, when she hopped in front of them, she had a plan. A violent one. 

“Pull yourself together.” She snapped at Katara, who looked up at her, bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down her confused face, “he’s getting out of here alive. But first, I need you to soak them.” Y/N gestured towards the troops coming towards them, Zuko and Azula accompanying them. Katara opened her mouth, and Y/N didn’t care what she was going to say as she ordered, “now!” 

Katara’s brows drew together as she released the Avatar’s head onto her lap, raising her hands to use the waterfall behind them to successfully drench the soldiers, who groaned at the discomfort but pausing temporarily before they continued towards them. “What did you think that would accomplish? What a pitiful-” Azula’s taunts were paused when she watched as Y/N drew her hands together, inhaling deeply, and Azula stopped her movement. “That’s not possible.” 

Suddenly, lightning was between Y/N’s fingertips, and she extended her hand into the large puddle of water that Katara had created. Y/N had learnt to bend lightning soon after she’d mastered Firebending, from her father, he’d insisted that she only use it when necessary, so she kept her ability to herself. This was necessary, she decided, hand touching the water and sending a shock throughout everyone with it, successfully putting all of the soldiers out of commission. 

Unfortunately, Azula recognized the signs of lightning bending, and withdrew alongside Zuko, and the two were now coming to attack from above at a rapid rate. Y/N whipped her head around to see Katara, mouth gaped open at all the fallen soldiers. “You two need to leave, I’ll hold them off.” She began to move to create another strike of lightning

“No.” Called out another voice, and Y/N whipped her head over to see it was her father, Dai Li agents likely nearby as he moved in front of Y/N. “You all need to leave. Take Y/N with you, she will help the Avatar reach his destiny.” Y/N wanted to laugh at that, how could he be so sure? If the boy did die, then this would all be for nothing

Y/N scoffed, “are you crazy?” She moved closer to her father, “unlike Zuko, I’m not leaving you.” She exclaimed, exasperated. 

Iroh simply smiled at her as he said, “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” 

Sokka knew he seemed dumb. He knew how others perceived him, as the ‘extra’ member of Team Avatar, the useless one, because he lacked bending. At the end of the day, Sokka was the brains of their operations, he was observant, and this helped him develop plans that most people would never even consider.

Not that anyone else knew, but Sokka was the only one that had actually interacted with Y/N prior to what happened in Ba Sing Se. Sure, they’d all met once or twice in the past, but Sokka had a knife to his throat then, so Y/N probably didn’t seem that appealing to the others. And he doubted they understood how odd it was that she was so... apathetic. Normally she’d tease, and joke alongside him but now? 

It was odd, and nobody else could notice the shift in her personality but him, and he was concerned. Y/N had lost her father, and been betrayed by her cousin, and she had yet to talk about it, at all. Sokka liked to think that they were close enough to discuss such things, and he’d tried to get some sort of emotion out of her, the key word being tried. 

Despite her apathetic personality, the others had warmed up to her for the most part. Apparently Toph had met Y/N in the past, during the time she’d run off and encountered Iroh. So, the two got acquainted fairly fast, Aang was happy to have a Firebender, and insisted that once he was back to full strength, and they’d found a better place for practice, he’d learn Firebending from her. Y/N had agreed but it was clear Aang wasn’t as excited as he was acting, Sokka figured he still associated the time he hurt Katara with Firebending.

Katara had been far less weary of Y/N than Sokka had expected, but given what Katara had told him when she’d first joined, that made sense. Y/N was a powerful Firebender who had betrayed her entire nation to help save Aang’s life, and though Katara didn’t approve of everything she’d done in the past, she tolerated her. Which was better than nothing in Sokka’s book.

They were currently camped out in the woods beside a Fire Nation town, everyone had scattered to prepare for the few nights they’d likely stay in the area. Katara had gone to the town with Toph and Aang, in search of supplies and food, while Sokka and Y/N set up the camp and collected wood to help start a fire. Y/N had insisted that she could maintain the fire without any wood, but Sokka viewed this as an excuse to get her alone and force her to discuss her feelings.

“So...” Sokka mumbled, looking to her as she leaned down to pick up another piece of wood, “lovely weather we’re having.”

Y/N turned to him, raising a brow before nodding, “yeah.” It was clear she wasn’t entirely paying attention the nonsense that was coming out of his mouth as he tried to get her to listen to him. 

Sokka grabbed another piece of wood, “how have you been?”

Tilting her head at him in confusion, Y/N brought another piece of wood into her arms, “fine.” Looking up at the dimming sky she frowned, “we should start heading back to that spot we’d found earlier.” Y/N turned to begin walking, and Sokka struggled to match her pace.

His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared at her, the light of the falling sun filtering in between the trees and onto them. Y/N seemed to glow as she maneuvered between the trees, “how have you been sleeping?” Even Sokka sounded confused at the question he asked, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic with Y/N.

She simply paused her movement, turning to him, he stumbled slightly due to the abrupt stop, and met her eyes. “Just ask what you wanna ask, Sokka. Stop dancing around whatever it is.” Y/N sounded tired, looking to him expectantly as she awaited his question. Sokka scolded himself for being so obvious that she’d noticed something was up. 

He sighed, “are you okay?” And she opened her mouth to respond but he continued, “actually? You can say that you are okay, and not mean it. Y/N you lost your dad and were betrayed by your cousin, and you-” Sokka grimaced as he met her eyes, “you haven’t been the same since you joined us.”

Y/N is silent for a moment, then her eyes were piercing into his, “how would you know that I haven’t been the same?” She asked, turning away to continue walking back to the chosen campsite, “it’s not like you know me.” His statement had set her off it appeared, but her response had easily done the same for him. 

“Are you serious? Not like I know you?” He scoffed, jogging to catch up with her, “I know that you do whatever it takes to protect the people you care about. I know that you really like Earth Kingdom food because most of the food within the Fire Nation is on the spicier side.” Y/N didn’t seem to be listening, and the camp was in sight, but Sokka continued, “I know that you get really cold easily unless you regulate your body temperature with your Firebending. And I know that you can’t pick a favorite color because you are very indecisive.” 

Aggressively, Y/N dropped the sticks into the center of the campsite as they arrived, turning to him, “you can stop now.” Her voice was almost taunting as she spoke, sarcastic in a way. 

Sokka simply followed suit, placing the firewood in the center and facing her head on, “and most importantly, I know what it’s like to lose someone.” He takes her hand, and Y/N practically growls at the contact, attempting to yank her hand out of his grasp, she ends up pulling him closer towards her. Sokka clumsily topples onto her, knocking the both of them down into the dirt with a grunt. His forearms preventing him from crushing Y/N under his body weight as he held himself up, his eyes meet hers.

Y/N finds herself glaring daggers at him, while Sokka finishes his little speech with, “you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

And in that moment, he looks at her, really looks at her. And she’s really pretty.

Y/N opens her mouth to say something to him, only for someone else to begin speaking, “are we interrupting something?” Toph. Looking up, Sokka sees the others as well, Aang looks rather smug as he wiggles his eyebrows at Sokka, and Katara gives him a pointed look, likely disappointed that he’d fraternizing with the former enemy. He can’t help it when he feels his cheeks warm, and before he can move to get off Y/N, she’s launched him off of her, and he’s flat on his back on the ground. Toph laughs at the actions, bending a seat of earth for herself and the others before falling backwards into it, the girl seems to wish she had popcorn as she watched the moment unfold.

“No.” Y/N mumbles, bringing herself to her feet and dusting herself off. “I’ll be in my tent if you need me.” She retreats into one of the tents they’d set up earlier, and Sokka groans as he lets his head fall backwards into the ground and runs his hands over his face.

When he removes them, Aang is standing over him, along with Toph, while Katara organizes the firewood. “So... did we interrupt something?” Toph asked.

Sokka just sighs, his plan failed. This time at least. Next time, his goal would be to make her laugh, to make her smile. At least she had expressed some emotion, anger was better than nothing.

Anger seemed to turn to annoyance, since Y/N doesn’t leave her tent until nightfall and Sokka can’t help but wonder what was entertaining enough to keep her in there for all that time. When she does exit, she uses her Firebending to light a fire, and uses the firewood they’d collected earlier to ensure it stays alight. The rest of the group was seated around the center of the campsite, and Sokka wonders if she’s going to go back to her tent when she realizes the only open seat is next to him. 

She doesn’t return to her tent though and he’s grateful. Though she sits as far as possible from him on the bench that Toph had created, half-heartedly listening to the things that the others are saying. Y/N can feel herself getting cold and can’t help the resent that bubbles up in her chest as she recalls what Sokka send earlier. Exhaling deeply, a puff of blue fire escapes her mouth and Y/N feels nauseous at the small reminder of Azula. 

This catches Sokka’s attention, though the others are too enraptured in the story Aang was telling, Sokka turned to her, “cold?” He asked, leaning to the side to grab a blanket from his small pack, he offers it to her.

Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to regulate her temperature when she fell asleep, but accepting the blanket from Sokka felt like... it felt like accepting him and everything he had said about her. So, when she doesn’t take the blanket from his hands, Sokka sighs, moving to put it back, only for Y/N to snatch the blanket from his hand and wrap it around herself begrudgingly.

This was her way of apologizing, moving closer to Sokka on the small bench she huffed as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself and turned her attention to Aang. She’d been mean, she wouldn’t deny, but what was she supposed to say? Exhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily, allowing drowsiness to consume her for a moment, before looking back to Aang.

It isn’t until Sokka feels a weight fall onto his shoulder midway through his own story that he realizes Y/N has fallen asleep, his mouth gaping open in shock as he pauses his words. He quickly shakes off the shock, cheeks warming as he turns back to the rest of the group, who all regard him curiously. Aang once again wiggles his eyebrows and Sokka ignores the action, continuing his story. Though he’s more weary of his vivid hand movements in fear of awakening Y/N, and noticeably quiets his voice. Sokka finds himself wishing he was Y/N as he listens to Katara’s Water Tribe horror story intently, after all, this is the most peaceful he’s ever seen her. 

It doesn’t last long, because she’s soon startled awake, hand going to her side where she keeps her dagger as she and Toph speak simultaneously, “someone’s coming.”

As an old woman emerges from the shadows, Sokka practically holds Y/N down to keep her from lunging at her and attacking as the woman speaks. And of course, Y/N’s distaste for the woman doesn’t stop there, even when she invites them into her home, though Sokka doesn’t blame her. She’s a suspicious woman. 

It’s not until he and Aang are attacking each other that Sokka regrets preventing Y/N from attacking the old woman when she had the chance. Katara is struggling to move, and Sokka can only hope that Toph and Y/N return from the cave soon as he yelps upon nearly making contact with Aang, the old woman laughing cynically. Sokka watches as she shifts, hand outstretching behind her, “don’t think I forgot you little Firebender.” 

His eyes widen in both shock and fear as Y/N’s body is suddenly thrown onto the ground in front of him. Her body rising almost mechanically, back to a stand, Sokka realizes there’s lightning at her fingertips, the woman manipulating her body to aim for Sokka. “A shame you’ll be the woman to end your friend’s life isn’t it,” She’s making eye contact with Katara who is crying out and begging for her to stop.

Sokka can see the panic in Y/N’s eyes as the her hands aim towards him, “Y/N. It’s okay.” He calls out her, in an attempt at assurance that he doubts does much to soothe her. “It’s okay.” He repeats, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepares for the lightning to hit him. Except it never does, instead, it goes upwards into the sky as Y/N cries out in pain, having moved her body despite the woman blending her blood. 

She had overpowered Hama’s bloodbending, something that clearly came as a shock to the old woman as Y/N turned around sluggishly, staring at the shocked old woman as blue fire left her mouth once more, chest heaving. Sokka could feel the weight on his bones slowly disappear, leaving behind an ache, the woman likely intended to focus her abilities onto Y/N, who was struggling to walk towards her. 

“Scared?” Y/N asked, looking up at the woman, “you should be.”

The next time that Team Avatar feared Y/N. She was face to face with Zuko.

He’d approached them as they sat in the Air Temple. And Y/N had practically jumped out of her seat, preparing for a fight as lightning seemed to dance at her fingertips. Though Sokka knew better than to allow her to attack her cousin, and grabbed her arm. “Can you guys handle this?” He asks the others, maintaining eye contact with Y/N. The others looked to them understanding what would likely occur if Y/N was allowed to be involved.

Zuko wouldn’t walk away from that fight. 

“We got this Sokka.” Katara assured, pure hate in her eyes as she stared Zuko down, and Sokka couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should remove both of them from the situation. 

Sokka’s hand found Y/N’s, and it was almost burning hot, a sparks seeming to fly between them, he pulls at her hand. Y/N hesitantly allows him to drag her away, though she turns back momentarily to meet Zuko’s eyes. “I’ll kill you later, cousin.” She promises, and her voice is scarily calm. “For my father.” The condescending tone in her voice and the wince Zuko has in response is enough for Sokka to know that her intent was to hurt him emotionally if she couldn’t do it physically, and it was clear she had been successful.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily as Sokka brings her into one of many abandoned rooms in the temple, sitting her down onto a bed before kneeling down in front of her. “Are you good?” He asks. 

“That’s a stupid question.” Comes her response.

Sokka tilts his head at her, giving her a smile, “well I’m a stupid guy.” 

He’s rubbing gentle circles in her hand as she shakes her head, a small laugh escaping her, “no you’re not.” Her voice cracks and she cringes at the sound so she clears her throat, staring at the wall beside her. Sokka can’t help the way his heart swells at this comment, because for once he doesn’t feel like the comic relief, he doesn’t feel like the side character. Though he appreciates the rest of Team Avatar and loves them all dearly, at times, they didn’t take him seriously. 

Y/N makes him feel important. Though he doesn’t say this as he looks at her, clearly shaken by Zuko’s sudden appearance, she speaks once more, “are you sure I can’t kill him?”

This time Sokka laughs, shaking his head, “I’m sure Katara would love to help you with that, but I doubt Aang would approve.” 

Y/N nods slowly, letting out a shaky breath as a tear escaped her, though she quickly wiped it away and looks to the ground. “You wanna sit with me?” She asks, patting the spot on the bed beside her. 

“Sure.” He replies softly, moving to sit on the bed with her. One he’s situated, Y/N leans her head onto his shoulder, and Sokka finds his hand wrapping around her waist. And they sit like this for several moments. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N removes her head from his shoulder and looks to him, “thank you.”

Sokka raises a brow, “for what?”

“Being here.” She replies, bringing her hand to move a hair from his face, Sokka watches her actions intently and in awe. “With me.” Her hand remains on his face for longer than necessary, and when she moves to let it fall back into her lap, Sokka’s hand cups hers. 

They’re both silent when Sokka’s hand releases hers, and his other hand leaves her waist, both coming to her face. The look in his eyes tells her enough, and she nods to him. 

The kiss felt like the first breath of fresh air in a while. Maybe it’s because it had been long overdue, but as Y/N brought her hands to his arms to pull him closer, she felt her head empty of all thoughts. 

He pulls away momentarily, their foreheads resting against each others, he can see her eyes are shut, lashes pressed against her cheeks. “I hope,” Sokka pauses, and her eyes flutter open to look at him, he can feel his cheek warm as he continues, “I hope I can always be here, with you.” It’s a confession in its own way, and Sokka understands the weight of his words as he watches her reaction. 

She opens her mouth, likely to reply, be closes it quickly, and Sokka can’t help the panic that floods him. Though this is quickly replaced by the feeling of her lips on his as her hand collides with his chest and pushes him down on the bed, earning a grunt from him. 

“Guys, Zuko is gone-” Y/N throws herself onto the floor as she rolls off Sokka, and he sits up immediately. “Am I interrupting something now?” Aang asked, giving Sokka a look.

Y/N clears her throat, “no.” Sokka couldn’t help it when his brows drew together at this comment, bringing a hand to his temple as he sighed, and Y/N stood, dusting off her thighs as she mumbled, “see you guys later.”

She started avoiding him after that. 

When Zuko joined the group, she’s also made a point to avoid him no matter how hard he tried to apologize to her. And of course, when Sokka first showed him to his room they had a... chat. To put it simply, Sokka had threatened him. 

Just a little. 

“So yeah, here it is, your room.” Gesturing to the room, Sokka gave Zuko a tight lipped smile, watching him wearily. 

Zuko’s back was to him as he placed his stuff down, “thank you.” He said, expecting that to be the end of it, upon hearing the door close he assumed Sokka had left.

When he turned around, Sokka was still very much there. “Let’s have a chat, Prince Zuko.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Sokka how the boy grimaced at the use of his title, though that didn’t stop him from moving forward and placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder a little too tightly. “Y/N does not want to speak with you.”

“I know,” Came his reply. “Thank you for keeping her from... killing me. The other day. I intend to apologize-”

A small laugh escaped Sokka, “next time. I won’t stop her.” This was for multiple reasons, one of which being that Y/N was avoiding him, and the other being that he wished to respect her and her feeling about Zuko. “And you need to respect her wishes. One of those wishes being, avoiding you. Until she approaches you, leave her be.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, “she’s my cousin. You can’t expect-”

“Leave. Her. Be.” 

Zuko became silent, nodding slowly as he looked to Sokka curiously. 

And now, to avoid some of his problems and solve some of them, Sokka ended up running away in a hot air balloon with the person he related to the most at the moment, and the person he threatened rather recently. Zuko. Both of them were being avoided by someone important in their lives, and they both had slightly crazy younger sisters. Though their conversations were certainly... odd.

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko looked at him for a moment before saying, “that’s rough, buddy.” There was silence after this, a temporary lapse in conversation that Zuko seemed determined to fill. “So...” Zuko mumbled. “You and my cousin huh.” 

It wasn’t a question, Sokka realized this, but he disregarded it as he responded, “what about us?” Playing dumb would hopefully get him to drop the subject. 

Zuko raised his brows at Sokka, “us?” 

Scolding himself, Sokka realized he’d unintentionally dug a deeper hole for himself when he said this as he tried to avoid Zuko’s gaze. “Not really.” Sokka replied, “she’s avoiding me too.” 

Nodding, Zuko gave him a tight lipped smile, “what did you do?”

“I wish I knew.” Sokka could only make assumptions about why Y/N had begun to avoid him, but at the end of the day was confused over it.

He really needed to talk to her. 

As the day of Sozin’s Comet drew closer, Sokka had started trying to talk to Y/N more and more, she’d keep basic conversation but whenever he tried to address... the kiss, Y/N would shut down the conversation. And now, it was the day of Sozin’s Comet, and they established that Zuko and Katara would take on Azula, Aang would take on Ozai, and the rest of them would go after the army that was heading for the Earth Kingdom. 

It seemed that Sokka intended to try to speak with her once more as he approached her while she strapped a dagger to her thigh. “We need to talk.” He said, plopping down onto a rock beside her.

“About battle strategy?” She asked, looking to him, “I had some ideas.”

Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb.

Sokka’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “about the kiss, Y/N.” Y/N tried to hide her shock at his forwardness, he’d never been this blunt before, during his previous attempts to discuss this with her. Turning to him, she prepared to speak but he silenced her, “you’re going to listen this time.” Grimacing, he looked away, towards the horizon. “I don’t know what’s going to happen today. And if something goes wrong, I need you to know-”

“Nothing is going wrong.” Y/N stated firmly. “Nothing. So, we can have this conversation after.” 

Sokka sat up from his place on the rock, moving in front of her, “there’s no way to guarantee that Y/N.” 

Squeezing her eyes shot, Y/N took a deep breath, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you guys.” She promised, “and I swear we can talk about this after.” She grabs onto his hands, holding them in hers as she looks away. Y/N knew why she was avoiding it. He was right, it was totally possible for one of them to die, and a relationship in the midst of a war was the worst possible idea. After would be better, or at least that’s what she’d told herself.

The pleading look in his eyes almost burns through her resolve as he asks, “will we?” It almost hurts that he doesn’t believe her, but Y/N can’t blame him.

“We need to go.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she releases his hands. Even if she wanted to continue discussing the subject, they needed to begin the battle soon. 

Sokka frowned though, “if you don’t want this, just tell me and I’ll-” He sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

Y/n began to shake her head, “you are never a bother to me I just-” Sighing, she looked into his eyes, “I want this. I do, I’m just scared, and we’re in the middle of a war Sokka!” She exclaimed, the words spilling out of her mouth before she can stop them.

“You think I don’t know that?” Sokka cried out, exasperated. “Y/N I’m so scared that something is going to go wrong, and I’ll never get to tell you that I-”

“Don’t say it.” She interrupts, fear in her veins as she watches him.

So, he didn’t. 

If she didn’t feel like she had something to come back to, maybe that would make it easier. Sacrifices would have to be made to reach victory, and Y/N wouldn’t hesitate to be the one to make them if it meant the others survived. They deserved to see the new world, the world of peace, prosperity, and freedom, the one that came after all this.

Y/N could feel the power flooding her as the comet drew closer, pure and raw power. Though this accompanied by her skill would likely help her in the upcoming battle, dozens of Firebenders with half her skill and the power of the comet was something she was definitely worried about. Overpowering them all was unlikely, and in the best case scenario, Y/N could slow them down. But she wasn’t a fool. In war, there were always casualties, and she was prepared to become one of many. 

Then there were the thoughts in the back of her mind. Though nobody had discussed it, the throne could potentially go to her after all this, and that wasn’t really something Y/n was looking forward to debating. Perhaps it was selfish, but Y/N didn’t really care. Was it wrong of her to dream of escaping the shackles that bound her to the Fire Nation since birth, to leave behind the politics and the lies and the pain of it all?

Maybe. 

Sokka knew Y/N had a lot going on in her mind right now. And he knew she was scared of what was to come, and no matter how much it hurt him, he respected her wishes to wait until this battle was over to discuss whatever it was between them. He knew where he stood. But now that Suki had left them, he found himself beginning to regret it. On the top of the Air Balloon, Toph was practically blind, and Sokka could do little in terms of long distance, aside from his boomerang. Which left Y/N to do her best to defend them from the Firebenders that had begun to swarm them. 

“Go!” She cried out, knocking one of the Firebenders off the balloon. “Take out the rest of the fleet.” Y/N dodged the oncoming flames, intercepting them with her own to prevent the others from getting burned.

But Sokka wasn’t going to let anyone die today. “You still owe me a conversation,” came his response, looking down at the bridges on the Air Balloon. “Jump!” Sokka cried out as another ball of fire rushed towards them, he took Toph by the hand and hoped that Y/N followed. 

Thankfully, she did, he took notice of her as he fell towards the bridges extending from the giant hot air balloon. They were all screaming as they fell, and Y/N grunted in pain as she hit Sokka, tumbling over him and off the edge, yelping as her hands grasped the bridge, with little leverage. Toph similarly went over the side, her screams filling Sokka ears as Y/N released one of her hands from the bridge and caught Toph’s wrist. 

Panic flooded Sokka as he scrambled to the edge of the bridge, Y/N’s hand slipping, “Sokka! Hurry up-” Another scream rips out of her as she loses her grip on the edge.

Nearly falling as he grabbed her hand, his chest heaved. “It’s gonna be okay.” He promised, looking into Y/N’s panicked eyes. “It’s gonna be fine Toph!” He cried out to her.

“Yeah, right!” She called out into the wind, the fear evident in her voice despite the sarcastic nature of the comment. “Y/N I don’t wanna die.” 

Y/N almost can’t hear her, too focused on maintaining her grip on both Sokka and Toph’s hands. She exhales slowly, eyes falling on the soldiers that are beginning to make their way down to them as she replied, “you’re gonna be fine, I promise. I’m gonna get you to Sokka, okay?” 

Sokka was internally panicking, he wouldn’t be able to fight back against the incoming soldiers if both his hands were occupied, but his grip was faltering and he couldn’t pull them both up. Grimacing as he looked down at the two, he nodded in agreement to Y/N signaling that he was ready. It made sense in his mind, she would be able to use her free hand to Firebend, which was far more useful than anything he could provide at the moment. 

Inhaling deeply, Y/N looks to Toph, “Toph, I need you to climb up my body, and grab Sokka’s free hand, okay?”

Toph’s death grip on her hand seems to grow stronger, tears brimming her eyes, “I- I don’t think I can.” 

Y/N shakes her head at these words, “yes, yes you can. Bring your legs up to grab my lower body, and then make your way up, okay? Like a tree.”

Toph shook her head rapidly, “I’ve never climbed a tree!”

Sokka couldn’t help but grow impatient as he exclaimed, “there are soldiers coming, Toph please!” His hand was growing sweaty as he used his free hand to throw his sword at one of the oncoming soldiers, effectively knocking him down. 

Y/N felt her arm swing slightly, and watched as Toph blindly extended her legs, finally managing to wrap them around her legs. She released Y/N’s hand and wrapped both arms around her lower body, slowly inching upwards until her legs were around Y/N’s waist and her arms were on her shoulders. “Good job, now reach up, as far as you can, and Sokka’s gonna grab your hand.” Y/n instructed using her free hand to pat the hand that Toph had wrapped around her.

Y/N could feel the young girl’s tears fall onto her shirt as she extended her hand upwards, Sokka’s freehand moving as far down as possible. The strain on Y/N’s body slowly becoming too much as tears leaked out of her eyes.

Maybe it would be better to just... let go.

She quickly shook off those thoughts, Toph, Toph, Toph, she couldn’t do anything brash until Toph was safe. Y/N watched as Sokka’s hand narrowly missed Toph’s. “Sokka, please.” Y/N whispered, looking to him with pleading eyes.

Maybe it was the desperation he heard in her voice that moment, or maybe it was pure luck, put his fingers grazed Toph’s and he latched on, extending his arm as far as possible and gripping her hand. “Now let go of me, and Sokka’s gonna pull you up, okay?” Y/N explained, looking to Sokka, his eyes meeting hers. Y/N quickly realized he couldn’t lift either of them up. Just like her, this was straining his muscles, and Sokka was struggling to keep both of them up. 

“Sokka.” She said, demanding his attention, his eyes met hers, filled with fear as Toph relieved Y/N’s body of her weight and evened out the distribution on Sokka’s body. “You can’t fight back with both your hands taken.” More tears were streaming down her face as she spoke, “a-and... you can’t pull us both up.” Sokka was crying too now, shaking his head rapidly as Y/N simply pointed out the facts.

Toph’s grip on his hand tightened, “we’re all going to die.” There was resignation in her voice, and it hurt Y/N to hear it.

“We’ll figure it out. We are all going to be okay.” He stated firmly, a shaky breath leaving him as he made an attempt to pull them both upwards, a failed attempt.

Squeezing her eyes shut momentarily, Y/N allowed herself to imagine it, a life with Sokka and the rest of her friends. A life where they were all happy. Where everyone made it out of this war alive, and they helped bring balance to the world.

To give them that world, they had to end this war. And what was war without death?

Opening her eyes, she looked to Sokka, and he was panicked, noticing that far more soldiers had surrounded them and were preparing to mercilessly throw them off the balloon. “Sokka.” She repeated, and he looked to her with a tear streaked face. 

“I love you.” 

Everything seemed to slow as she spoke this words, and Y/N didn’t see the horror on his face for long as the grip of his hand faltered when she released it, he was screaming, crying, begging for her to stop. Toph clearly didn’t understand what was going on as she began to call out Y/N’s name in a panic. 

And then she was falling. 

It appeared there would be no after.

It felt peaceful, she decided. Falling. The stress on her body had dissipated and she caught one final glimpse of Sokka’s mortified face before going through the clouds. The comet was visible from where she was, the horizon, it was a beautiful way to die. But staring at the comet she realized she wanted to know what would come after, she realized that Toph was practically helpless and all Sokka had was a boomerang against dozens of Firebenders.

They would die. So, what was the point of her sacrifice? What was the point of her dying?

No, she wouldn’t be dying today.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N felt the power course through her veins, and she reminded herself that she was Y/N L/N, a force to be reckoned with. Nobody would forget that as fire tore through the soles of her shoes, and extended from her hands, propelling her upwards. 

She was the daughter of the famed Dragon of the West. And she would take on his mantle, she decided, as she flew upwards and through the clouds. 

She could see Sokka had managed to bring Toph upwards and onto the platform alongside him, and they were surrounded by Firebenders. It was clear that they’d seen her when their mouthes gaped open, and a few of the soldiers began to retreat, much to the chagrin of their commanding officer. Y/N found herself ceasing her Firebending and falling towards the platform, she landed in a roll and rose on one knee before opening her mouth and allowing fire to pour outwards.

The Firebenders fell off the bridges beside them one by one, and those who didn’t retreated back inside along with the others at the sight of the Air Balloon that Suki had evidently comandeered.

Closing her mouth, Y/N’s chest heaved, and she felt Toph tackle her from behind, “you’re alive!” She exclaimed, punching Y/N’s arm roughly, “idiot.” She dug her head into Y/N’s shirt.

“Yeah, I am an idiot.” Y/N replied breathlessly, holding the girl tightly.

When Toph finally released her, she gave her a smug look, “I’ll give you and him a minute.” Though this was partially an excuse to head back inside and into the safety of the balloon, maybe even attack some of the remaining Firebenders, it was also because Toph could read the room.

And there stood Sokka, mouth gaping open, tears streaming down his smiling face as he looked at her, before lunging towards her similar to how Toph had. Except his hands came to her cheeks as he brought their lips together, effectively knocking the two onto the ground of the platform, be pulled apart from her with a smile on his face, “I love you too.”

Yeah, after was looking pretty good right about now. 

A/N: i hope you guys liked this SUPER LONG THING WOW, that was an accident. i was super close to like breaking everyones hearts and killing Y/N but then i felt bad so be grateful i was nice ksaljdlahfkj

anyways take care of yourselves!

taglists:

atla:  @bubblebars @jada-cleo @art-flirt @the-deli-meat

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka atla #atla sokka #atla sokka x reader #sokka atla x reader #atla sokka x you #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #legend of korra #sokka is a bottom change my mind #im sorry ignore this #i hope no one reads tags #anyways have a nice day #drink water