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#[ let me dip my toes back into some writing ]
drudyslut · 3 hours
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Office Hours — R.C
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request: Hi!! Can you write like a CEO rafe and his wife who comes to visit him at the office and he fucks her on his desk where everybody can hear her moaning his name and then he walks out all smug, leaving for the day to continue pleasing his wife at home (from anon)
CW: CEO!Rafe, wife!reader, semi public sex(?), unprotected sex, choking, slapping, degrading, breeding kink. and i think that’s it.
likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated<3
note: CEO Rafe is so sexy to me, and this is an NYC AU, not in the OBX💞
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Rafe always loved when you came to visit him at work. Your husband had a very busy schedule, multiple meetings, business trips, and visiting location sites for new businesses he wanted to open up.
It was a rarity that you caught him in the office, alone and with some time to spare for you.
So when he called you today, asking you to come in to the office to see him, you jumped on the opportunity.
“Mrs. Cameron, he’s in his office waiting on you.”
You smile at Rafe’s assistant, nodding your head as you make your way down the long hallway of the building. Reaching the end of the hall, you stand in front of his office door, Rafe Cameron, CEO, is in big bold letters across the middle.
You push the door open, — not bothering to knock since he knows you’re coming — and find him sitting behind his desk, his office phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke sternly to whoever was on the other end.
He looks up, bright blue eyes finding yours as he smiles softly, “I gotta call you back.” he says to whoever was on the other end of the line, hanging up before they can even respond.
“Hi beautiful.” he says, smiling and standing from behind his desk, making his way toward you.
You smile widely, shutting the door behind you and meeting his steps, wrapping your arms around his neck and lifting on your toes to kiss his lips. “Hi handsome, I’ve missed you.”
Rafe melts against your lips, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he deepens the kiss. His hands slide down your body, wrapping around your waist, large hands gripping your ass firmly through your tight black leggings.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. “I’ve missed you baby, I promise, I’ll take some time off soon and we’ll go to the house in the Bahamas, spend some real time together, okay?”
You smile up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod your head in agreement. Rafe dips his head down, his lips finding yours again and slowly kissing you.
His tongue makes its way into your mouth again, brushing with yours as his hands begin roaming the expanse of your body. You moan softly into his mouth when his fingertips rub against your clothed thighs. It’d been a few days since you’d had your husband, and you were craving him, in more ways than one.
“Rafe, I need you.”
He smiles against your lips, backing the two of you up until your back hits a wall. He presses his hips into you, the feel of his already hard cock pressed against your clothed core making your breath catch in your throat.
“Yeah? My wife wanna be fucked in my office? Let everyone hear how good I make her feel?”
You suck in a sharp breath, mumbling a one word response, “Yes.”
His eyes darken and he places his hands on the underside of your ass, lifting you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to his desk, setting your ass down on the sleek wood surface. You watch him intently as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and leaving his broad, tanned chest and abdomen on display.
You reach out to run your fingers down his abs, but he slaps your hands away. “Nuh uh, baby. No touching.”
You frown, letting out a frustrated sigh that makes Rafe smirk. “You gonna be a fuckin’ brat? Huh? Just let me know, I can make you wait if that’s what you want..”
Your eyes go wide, shaking your head fast as you say, “No no no, ‘m sorry baby, I just… I need to feel you.”
He smirks, popping the button on his black dress slacks before working the zipper and shoving them down his legs, letting the material pool at his feet. Your eyes trail from his face down to his tight black boxer briefs, the hard, thick outline of his cock pressed firmly against the thin material.
“See something you want baby?” he teases, placing his right hand over his hard-on, squeezing himself lightly, a low, raspy groan escaping him.
Your thighs squeeze together, your eyes glued on his hard dick. “Yes. Want your cock, need to feel you stretch me, please.”
Rafe growls, taking one long step toward you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your leggings, ripping them down your legs. He hisses in a breath when he sees you’d opted for no panties today.
“Fuck, you plan this? To come in here and seduce me during office hours?” 
You can’t contain the mischievous smirk that spreads across your lips. “Maybeeee.”
“Mhm, my wife is such a fucking slut. I love it.”
You open your mouth to respond, but Rafe slapping your cheek has you gasping instead. The sting from his hand has more arousal pooling between your legs, and you whine, your clit throbbing with need.
“Rafe, please. Fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, it’s been four days, I-”
Rafe shuts you up, his lips aggressively finding yours. He wraps his fingers into the back of your hair, pulling your head back to allow him better access to your mouth. His tongue finds yours, fighting for dominance while his free hand slides its way under your ass, lifting you up just enough so your soaked cunt is level with his hard dick.
He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling your lips from his as his darkened over eyes find yours. “Ready for me baby?”
You whimper out a small “yes” and he removes his hand from your hair, using the now free hand to grip his cock in his hands. He strokes himself softly, spitting down onto the base and spreading it around his length with his hand.
He scoots your ass further down the desk, running his swollen head through your arousal slick entrance before he slowly pushes into you. You hiss in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to push into you agonizingly slow.
“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”
A loud moan slips past your lips, the feel of his thick cock stretching you out making your brain short circuit.
“F-ffffuck, Rafe. Please move, need to- need to feel you move..”
A low growl rumbles in Rafe’s chest, and he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back inside of your warm, wet cunt. You gasp loudly, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails digging into the soft skin of his back.
Rafe begins to roughly pound himself into you, his left hand under your ass and keeping you pressed into him while he right hands makes it’s way around your throat, squeezing hard and forcing your eyes on him.
“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you like a slut in my office, let all my employees hear you fucking scream for me?” He pauses, removing his right hand from your throat and smacking at your face again, a deep, red handprint left burning on your cheek. “Go on, fucking scream baby, let everyone in this goddamn place know who the fuck owns this sweet pussy.”
You’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your brain is so foggy from how good his cock feels buried deep inside you, how his filthy words and aggressive actions on your body turn you on even more. You can’t form a coherent response, and this only pushes Rafe to be meaner, and fuck you harder.
He slowly pulls himself from you, making you whine at how empty you feel without him filling you. His large hands grip at your hips, lifting your ass from the desk and flipping you so your stomach lay flat on the surface now. He slaps at your ass harshly, making you scream in pain and pleasure. “Answer me! Who the fuck is making you feel this good? Hmm? Who owns this fucking pussy, baby?”
He slams back into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips so he can pull you back to meet each of his thrusts.
Screaming his name, you answer his question. “You! You, Rafe. Feel so fucking good! You own my pussy, all for you!”
He slaps your ass again, a dark chuckle falling from him, “That’s right baby, I fucking own you and this sweet fucking pussy. Never forget that, aight?”
Tears fill your eyes, your pussy clenching tightly around your husband’s thick cock as he repeatedly pushes in and out of you at a fast and rough pace. “Y-yes sir. Never gonna forget it, fuck!”
The first few tears spill past your eyes as Rafe continues to brutally fuck himself into you from behind. Your walls clench around him tightly, strings of curses and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuck, Rafe. Ah ah, s’close baby, fuck!”
Rafe leans forward, the weight of his body on your back as his lips hungrily kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. “Go on baby, make a fucking mess on my cock and desk, let go f’me.”
That was all it took, Rafe kissing harshly at your neck and his permission to let go sent you tumbling over the edge, your pussy tightening once more as you came undone around him.
He fucks you through your high, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he curses under his breath. “Gonna cum baby, gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, make you a mama. You want that? Wanna have my babies?”
“Y-yes! P-please! Want your cum, Rafe! Wanna have all your babies, fuck, please please.”
Rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he pushes into you a few more times. You let out a loud moan when you feel his hot cum spill inside you, painting your inner walls white.
“Fuck!” Rafe shouts as his hips slow, burying himself to the hilt and stilling inside you.
Your body collapses onto the desk, the cool surface feeling good against your hot, sweat slick skin. You wince when Rafe pulls his softening cock from inside you, pulling up his boxers and slacks before grabbing his white button up off the floor.
You hear him disappear into his private bathroom that’s in his office, the sound of the sink turning on making you lift your head from the desk.
He walks behind you, gently laying your head back down as he brings the warm, wet hand towel between your legs and cleaning you up. Once finished, he tosses the damp towel to the side, pulling your leggings back up your legs and lifting you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting against his firm chest. “I’ve missed you, thank you for that.” you say softly.
Rafe dips his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your tangled hair before whispering, “You’re welcome, baby. ‘M yours for the rest of the day.”
You lift your head, brows furrowed in confusion when you hear his office door open, multiple sets of eyes on the two of you before they all avert their eyes to the ground. You hide your flushed face in his neck, not wanting the attention on you when you know everyone knows what just took place in your husbands office.
You hear Rafe speak, “Angie, forward all my calls for the rest of the day. I’m going home for the day, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
His assistant clears her throat awkwardly, letting out a quiet “Yes, Mr. Cameron.” before Rafe begins walking the two of you out of his work building and to his car.
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rafe taglist: @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @vhour @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust0 @sylverdragon @the-sylver-dragon @ditzyzombiesblog @romaescapes @urfavpersonality @stupidbxnny
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sailor-aviator · 2 days
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Hey.
Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.
So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.
I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.
Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.
I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.
Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.
The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.
How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.
Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.
Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.
Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.
To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.
Nothing but love,
Liz 💛
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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hiiii so i might’ve been stalking your blog for the entire 3 hour car ride :33
can i pretty please request more aftercare fluff w/lucifer? i looove the way your write him!🫶🏻
have a good day/night‼️‼️
a/n — I meant to do this SO much earlier! Anyways i’m super sleepy right now and lowkey just want to write fluff so here’s this!
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“Luci, you did so good. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” you coo down at Lucifer as he came down from his high.
It had been a particularly intense night, sex-wise, and it showed on the poor man’s face. He looked terribly spent and drenched in sweat. 
His body was littered with love bites and bruises from you, adding to the pathetic image of him sprawled out on bed.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, “Aw, sweetie, did I go to hard on you?” You massage his cheek with your thumb, he leans into you.
“No it was— god, it was amazing. You were amazing,” He gazed up at you adoringly, “You are amazing.” 
He looked at you with large doe eyes, “Can I help clean up, or anything?” He almost pleaded, desperate to help you.
Warm feelings of affection flooded your chest, “Lucifer,” you draw out, “Baby, you’ve already done so much for me. Give yourself a break, you look beat.”
Contrary to your point, Lucifer felt like he hadn’t done enough for you tonight. He almost felt guilty for receiving your love, especially if he didn’t think he reciprocated enough.
“Angel, please, I wanna help.” His eyes fell on you once again, gazing at you as if you put the stars in the sky.
He looked like a lost puppy, waiting for your command. You took pity on him.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the sweetest, prettiest boy ever?” You spoke, words laced with sugar as you leaned down to plant kisses all over his cheeks. 
He giggled dumbly, once again looking up at you and waiting for instructions on how to help.
“How about—“ you think, there wasn’t much you wanted him to do, especially in his state “—how about you sit here and look pretty while I run a bath?”
“My dear.” He warned, drawing out his words in a kinda of whine. 
He didn’t look happy with this answer. As much as you wanted him to take it easy, he desperately wanted to help you clean up.
“Alright, I’ll go run a bath and you freshen up the area, how’s that sound?” you inquire, earning a much more approving expression.
With extra effort, you carefully helped him and yourself off the bed, planting a kiss on his forehead.
He was obviously in pain as he left to go get a washcloth and fresh sheets, but as he was so determined to be of service to you, you let it slide.
You ran the bathtub water to a good temperature and lit some candles around it. When the tub looked, smelled, and felt appealing enough, you called out for Lucifer.
“How’s it going it there, babe? ‘Tubs ready,” you dip your toe in the water before sinking in fully.
“Be there in a moment, my love,” He called back, voice half-gone and groggy.
When he finally shows up in the room, he looks absolutely exhausted. Although objectively cleaner, he looks miles more disheveled than he did before tidying up. 
Once again, your heart fills with love towards the man. He was already tired, and still put forth effort to clean up, just so you had to do less work.
“Come here, sweetheart,” you coo at him, opening your arms and welcoming him in the bathtub.
All but reluctantly, he slinks towards you and practically falls into the water. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close to your chest.
He sighs and rests his head on you, happily curling up into you in the warm water.
“Hm, what candles did you light?” he asks quietly.
“I think something vanilla-y. You like it?” 
“The vanilla ones are my favorite. I think this is vanilla bean,” He hums softly into your chest. You rub his back your hand and use the other one to fish over the side off he bathtub.
There, you pulled out three oddly specific rubber ducks; a yodeler duck, a chef duck, and a duck that actually blows bubbles out of his snout. These three were Lucifer’s favorite.
He gave a small gasp when you pulled them out and set them into the water. You could see him regaining a little energy. 
“You know, the yodeler one has an interesting back story,” he practically gloated, pulling the ducks close to his chest. 
“Oh?” you question, “Well, please share, then. Don’t leave me on the edge of my seat.” You pull him closer to your chest as he holds the yodeling duck up in the air.
“Well, I actually got the materials in a different layer of hell. The craft supplies was good but the food was terrible there,” he rambled on lazily.
Increasingly drowsily, he explains its back story and how he got to work and little details like that. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder to see if you were still listening, or even cared.
To his surprise, you always were. He subconsciously snuggled further into you. Sleep crept into his words every time he spoke until it was undeniably time to get out.
You were exhausted yourself. You lazily got out of the bathtub and dried off, Lucifer following soon after. 
As to both get comfortable in bed, you rest your head on his shoulder and realize he had brought the ducks with him.
“Can I— can I keep explaining?” He asked timidly, yawning afterwards.
You pull him close and wrap your arms around his stomach, “For as long as you’re awake, sweetie.”
He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was passed out. Just as suspected, in few short minutes of Lucifer’s rambling, you were both sound asleep. 
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a/n — okay I HAVE to get some Vox content out after this because I have been lacking so much. There are lots of requests so expect more of him soon.
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incognit0slut · 3 months
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Pretty when you sleep
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As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.
warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, very minimum plot yet very heavy smut. words: around 2k
a/n: In another episode of me getting inspired by a clip that I turned into a gif and wrote something out of it🥴 if you want to read my other attempts at writing a blurb based on gifs, find the hashtag #gifwriting on my page. Also, I can't believe this is my first fic of him as a husband.
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YOU WERE TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. You just looked so goddamn tempting while laying on your stomach like that. It didn’t help when the strap of your nightgown fell from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast.
You were so breathtakingly beautiful. So soft. So irresistible.
Spencer always made sure he had your consent every time he touched you. He grew to understand what you liked and didn't like when it came to sex, and sure, maybe thinking of brushing his fingers along your skin while you were unconscious wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't help it. You were just too inviting to resist, so he placed a hand on your hip.
You stirred at the sudden contact he initiated and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position, your toes curling before relaxing once more. When you finally stopped squirming around, he reached out again, letting his rough fingers travel up your exposed leg. He started at your knee before going further up between the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours was waiting for him.
You were still asleep, even as he started to carefully stroke you, dragging a single knuckle up and down against your thin panties and suppressed a groan as he felt the heat radiating from underneath the material. Your breathing pattern began to change as he continued with his teasing. By the time he circled your clit and added the slightest amount of pressure on it, you started to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.
He smiled. You wanted this.
Of course, you did. The way your body reacted to his touch spoke for itself. You were already getting so wet that your panties were turning damp and sticky with arousal. He continued to massage your clit through the thin cotton, and he watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions even when you were unconscious.
Spencer kept his eyes trained on your body as he moved to dip your panties down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves, allowing them to sit around one of your ankles. Then he carefully slipped off his own clothes, trying to keep as quiet as possible, before his palms splayed against your body to move you onto your back.
“So pretty," he mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose nightgown and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. He moved over the mattress slowly, making sure you were still fast asleep, and slipped between your now parted legs.
God, how had he become so lucky? Having you reciprocate his feelings was already a surprise when he confessed, but it surpassed his expectations when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Ten months of pure bliss was what he felt throughout your relationship, and when he noticed some of your clutter in his apartment, he wanted to see it every time he came home.
And now, miraculously, you were his wife. The word carried a weight of joy and wonder that he couldn't quite fathom. Every morning waking up to your shared life, and every night falling asleep next to you, felt like a dream too good to be true. 
Granted, you've shared intimate nights so much that he should've gotten used to your body by now. Yet, every touch felt as electrifying and exhilarating as the first time and he found himself still captivated by the warmth of your presence. Even now as he fisted his cock, giving himself a teasing tug as he ran his thumb against the tip, his eyes raking your exposed body.
The way your legs parted for him, showing off your wetness and how already swollen you were even when he was barely touching you. His gaze swept over your exposed breast that slipped out of your nightgown and he brushed a thumb against one of your stiff peaks, feeling the way you trembled beneath him.
The way you shuddered made him jerk his hips against yours erratically, pushing his cock against your mound. Your body reacted to his touch, even in slumber, as your hips arched off the bed. His breath hitched when he rutted his hips forward. The sight of his cock against your abdomen showed him just how deep he would be inside you.
He then eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen tip through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way your pussy spread for him, as though inviting him inside. Your arousal coated his swollen head as he focused his attention on your clit, pressing down on it with his cock as he listened to the increased pace of your breathing.
He moved his cock back up as he let the underside split your folds open, resting his girth between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. You were so fucking pretty it was unreal.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, holding onto the base of his cock as he started to drag the tip through your wetness again, grunting softly as it caught against your tight entrance. “Look at you swallowing me.”
Spencer exercised restraint as he gave soft, subtle thrusts into your aching cunt. His gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart as he continued pushing himself forward, feeling your body begin to resist his entrance as he tried to change the angle.
"I'm sorry, Angel," he whispered. His chest rumbled with a groan as he felt you clenching around his thickness, causing his eyes to snap up to your face in surprise, thinking that he’d wake you up. But you were still very much asleep. "I can't resist you."
He let out a sigh as he managed to thrust his hips further. He paused for a second to cherish the feeling of his cock being completely buried deep inside you, running his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel himself inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he throbbed at the sensation.
He held your hips and slowly dragged his thick cock from your cunt, leaving the tip to keep you stretched out before plunging back inside. The restraint he once had now long gone with the way your body hungrily sucked him. His pace increased as he leaned forward, hovering his body over yours with his hands splayed on either side of your head. He sucked in a breath at the way your body adjusted to him, clenching around his cock as he kept rutting his hips.
And then you suddenly stirred. You moved slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. Your eyes slowly flutter open from your slumber as you feel the warmth of his body, the subtle shift of his weight, and the aching sensation between your thighs.
"What..." Your voice cracked as you turned to see him, only to let out a low groan at him thrusting a bit harder against you.
"Shh, it's just me," he whispered. The haze of your sleep lifted, and your gaze met him at the same time he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours. 
He captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as your hands pressed to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own. You let him devour you while his hips increased in speed, rolling against yours as whimpers began to spill from your lips. Your thighs instinctively tightened around him, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss filled your body.
"Spence..." you whimpered. You were breathless, eyes screwed shut, legs now parting even further to give him better access. Throughout the time you were in a relationship with him, you never imagined being woken up like this, but you weren't complaining. Not when you could feel his cock stretching you so deliciously.
Spencer was often embarrassed when it came to dirty talk, but once he realized how much you relished those whispered, filthy words, it became a personal mission to keep you thoroughly satisfied. Knowing how much you loved hearing those filthy words became a secret thrill for him, which was why when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, you became a whining mess.
“You're always so tight,” he began, his voice deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reached for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Look at you taking me so well. It's like your pussy is made for me.”
A rush of burning heat filled your body, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. He buried himself between your neck while thrusting inside of you with rising desperation, pushing himself further, his body rolling against yours.
“Faster,” you begged him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sank into your lip, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. It only took him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips created a loud smack as drove his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t help but cry out, overwhelmed by the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him that he let out a grunt.
“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind. His lips brushed over your neck as he increased his pace. “I love fucking you like this.”
“Please… don’t stop—” You gulped with a brief pause. “Feels so... so good.”
He shook his head against your shoulder.
"I'm not stopping," he continued to whisper in his gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. “I love feeling you this close.” He pressed an open kiss on your skin. "I love making you desperate."
“Fuck,” you cried out, body weakening with his every word. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal became louder the quicker he thrust into you. “I-I’m getting c-close."
You continued to warble out broken sentences, trying to form any coherent thoughts but all you felt was the searing pleasure that flowed through you. The lewd sounds continued to fill the room as your essence dribbled down your ass and onto the bed, staining the sheets. "I-I'm gonna—"
“Come for me,” he encouraged, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Go on, come on my cock.” The choice words sent a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbled between your thighs. 
“I'm coming,” you cried out, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless. Your body tensed as the pleasure swelled through your body and his final confession toppled you right over the edge.
“I love this so much,” he groaned between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surged through you, “I love you.”
You finally let go, toes curling in ecstasy as you arched your back, legs growing further apart. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped his name, overwhelmed with the bliss he offered, the emotions that drove you at his words. You wanted to say them back, but you couldn't even think properly as the wave of pleasure washed over you.
He continued to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter until he reached his own peak. The moment a heavy exhale left his lips, his hips slowed and his cock twitched, signaling the pleasure filling him as he released inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before he eased himself and collapsed on the bed, bringing you along with him as you settled on top of his body.
The two of you lingered in the aftermath of passion for a few seconds too long—breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired. When you lifted your head to look at him, you noticed the softness in his eyes, your heart fluttering at the sight. 
"Well, good morning to you, Dr. Reid," you teased.
He laughed, his hands absentmindedly stroking your back. There was a warmth in his gaze, filled with affection as you continued to stare at him. "Good morning, Mrs. Reid."
You couldn't help but smile at the endearment as you placed your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you let his warmth envelop you, singking further into the arms of your husband.
a/n: If you have a specific clip you want me to be inspired by, come and drop me a message. But please be specific so I would know which scene you're talking about.
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b00kdiary · 2 months
Note
Okay I've been debating about requesting this. However, I think you would do this lovely.
Reader is shopping for her wedding dress and is really excited only for the workers. They treat her terribly for her size and make her feel uncomfortable, so she leaves trying on only like 2 dresses and feels icky and when her mate (Cassian) wants to cuddle he can sense somethings off especially when he evades his touch.
Take some liberties with it. But I had this experience recently with my bridesmaids, and we didn't feel insecure, but we all left feeling really angry and upset
Full disclosure I did write something similar to this with Rhys, but I would honestly love your take with Cassian because I think you write him beautifully 😍
Mine | Cassian
Cassian X Plus Size reader
Y/N goes wedding dress shopping and is confronted with females who make it clear that they think she’s unworthy of being Cassian’s mate, that she shouldn’t be his wife. Cassian shows her just how fucking wrong they are.
Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body image issues and mean comments, fluff, angst and Mild Smut. (A/N to the lovely person who requested this I am sorry this happened to you, and I hope this work is how you'd like!)
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
"A size 18?"
The female before me asked again – for the third fucking time.
And just like the first and second, her beautiful face twisted, lips curling in a cruel smirk, blue eyes widening and her tone – I could hear the condescension in it. But what really took the cake was how her eyes raked down my figure, from head to toe looking at me like I was dirt on her shoe.
"Yes," Mor breathed, speaking sharply through her clenched teeth. I glanced sidelong at her, nervous at the anger simmering in her golden eyes. "She said that already. Thrice."
The female's eyes slid from me to Mor, and she had the good sense to look uneasy at the blonde's wrathful expression. I kept my face neutral when she met my gaze, a faux-innocent smile on her pink lips before she dipped her head in a bare nod and scurried away.
I glared as her long, slender legs carried her, shapely hips and slim waist swaying with every graceful movement. No wonder why she was looking at me like I was the fucking elephant in the room. She was tiny, as was every other worker in this stupid shop.
"I am going to pluck her eyes from her head," Mor seethed quietly from beside me. I turned to her, bracing my hands on my soft hips as I met her furious frown. "And tear her tongue from her mouth. She is awful."
"Yes, she is," I chuckled, pushing down the ache in my chest as I met Mor’s stare. I wouldn’t let her meanness affect me. Nor would I let Mor try and defend my honour. “But we’re here for a wedding dress, this is meant to be fun. Just ignore her.”
Mor sighed, tucking the strands of her long blonde hair from her face. I gave her a hopeful smile and I could see her physically forcing down her anger for my sake. A second later her golden eyes met mine and she beamed.
“You’re right, this is meant to be fun,” Mor grabbed my hand, smirking as she tugged me along the shop floor to the dressing room, passing the dozens and dozens of gorgeous gowns. “And you're going to marry your mate. Cassian is one lucky male.”
We passed a group of female workers, re-organising the rack – and it was almost comical how they all halted at Mor’s words, eyes widening. Mor’s smirk broadened and she shot them a cruel, amused look.
“Mate and soon-to-be wife of General Cassian of the Night Court,” Mor continued, feigning ignorance to the group of females now listening. Their faces ashen as they flickered their gaze to and from me. “You really do need the perfect dress.”
I rolled my eyes at her gloating tone, slapping her hand in mild scolding as we stopped before the dressing room doors. I tried to ignore how the workers watched me, but I could feel their deadly stares boring holes into my back, all over my body – I could feel the awful judgement.
“I think the one we chose will be perfect,” Mor continued, oblivious to the stares I was getting and the whispers behind my back. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing an easy smile onto my lips as she gushed. “The neckline, the bodice, the skirt – Cassian won’t know what hit him.”
“Let’s wait and see if they have my size first,” I muttered, drumming my fingers impatiently as we waited. Mor shot me a look, frowning but I just stared ahead. I didn’t want her to feel bad for me.
“If this store doesn’t another will,” Mor said, her tone a shade softer now. “Besides, we have the best tailors in Velaris, we could have a gown fit for a queen made for you if you wanted. I know Cassian would want nothing less than the best for you. So do the rest of us.”
A gown fit for a queen. Something fit for the mate of the General. The thought made me feel nauseous for some reason. Still, I gave Mor another smile, nodding along as if I liked the idea.
Mercifully, the female worker arrived before Mor could press me anymore about what I thought. Or unmercifully if the fake smile she wore as she approached was any indication. Or how she held that size 18 dress like the largeness of it might rub off on her.
Mor was right. She is fucking awful.
“Here we are,” She chirped, draping the bag over my arm with more force than necessary. She eyed the dress, disdain in them. “Size 18. Sadly, that is the largest we do. So, hopefully, it fits.”
Hopefully sounded more like I hope it doesn’t – sounded like she wanted to laugh at me when it didn’t.
“Hopefully,” I gritted out, shooting her a bland smile before walking away without another word.
Mor chuckled quietly as she followed after me, leaving that awful female standing there – dismissed. Perhaps it was mean, I was not someone who was ever rude to staff and yet this woman had brought that side out of me.
She’d also brought out the side of me that felt sick with nerves at the idea of trying this dress on.
***
Mor began crying the second I stepped out of the changing rooms wearing the dress.
“Oh Cauldron,” She laughed, red-painted nails coming to her face, wiping the endless tears away. I smiled as I descended the steps moving toward the mirrors. “You look beautiful, Y/N. Truly, you’re a dream.”
I smiled at my friend; throat too tight to voice how much her words meant to me. My legs shook a little as I moved toward the mirrors. The dress had fit, and she was right – I did look like a dream.
“Gods, it’s beautiful,” I whispered, voice shaking. I ran my trembling hands along the tight-laced bodice, down the soft silk material as it draped along my curved hips and fell in soft, elegant weaves down my thighs and to the floor.
It fit me like a glove. The simple, sweetheart neckline accentuated my chest, the bodice moulded perfectly against my waist and hips and the material looked rich, looked like it was made for a queen.
“You’re beautiful,” Mor said softly, coming to stand behind me in the mirror, tears glistening in her eyes as she ran her hands through my hair, “I think this might be the dress.”
“I think so too,” I laughed, my eyes burning with emotion as I stared at myself. Beautiful – it was a feeling I rarely experienced and yet, right now I did. I felt beautiful. “This is my dress.”
Mor shrieked, and I flinched at the shrill sound as she laughed, hugging me so tight I could scarcely breathe. I giggled, sniffing as I wrapped my arms around her slender frame, and I was beaming just as broad as she was.
Until the door cracked open.
And that female stood in the doorway. Frowning at me.
“You’ve found your dress then?” She said tightly, interrupting Mor’s elated nonsensical muttering about Cassian and the wedding and something about drinking. “It fits.”
I straightened as Mor pulled away from me, all remnants of a smile gone from her lovely face, and she was as stiff as me as we turned to that female. I swallowed as her blue eyes racked across my figure, something akin to disgust rippling like waves through her gaze.
“Yes,” I said tightly, my arms unconsciously folding over my chest. As if to shield myself from her judgment. “It fits.”
“Excellent,” She replied, sounding anything but thrilled. But still, she smiled, an ugly sight, before she beckoned Mor to follow her. “We can figure out the details while she gets out of the dress. I imagine it might take a while.”
Mor’s canines flashed and the female took a step back in surprise when Mor looked as if she might lunge for her – and rip out her throat with her teeth. But I clamped my hand down around her wrist before she could. Her golden eyes turned to me, incredulous, but I merely shook my head with a warning in my eyes.
“That’s fine,” I said sharply, meeting her blue eyes and raising my chin, “I’ll see you both in a few minutes then.”
“Fine,” Mor muttered, sighing as my fingers uncurled from her wrist. I could see the anger on her face as she followed after the female. And rightfully so, the female kept a good distance between them as they exited the room.
I released a tight breath as I moved back to the changing room, locking the door and slumping back against it once I was inside. And just like that, I felt awful again. I felt big like I was taking up too much space. I felt ugly like this dress wasn’t for me. And most of all I felt unworthy.
A mixture of anger and sorrow washed over me as I slipped out of the dress and back into my usual leggings and top. I tried to not dwell on how that female had looked at me, how swiftly she had yanked me back to reality with something as simple as her words.
It shouldn’t have mattered and yet, for some reason it did.
“Did you hear-“
I heard the soft giggling voice as I yanked my shoes on, two pairs of footsteps and rustling clothes sounding in the main part of the dressing room. Admittedly, I might have softened my movements to hear them. I had a horrible feeling I knew what they were talking about.
“The female who came in before asking for a size 18,” She whispered, spitting the size like it was acid on her tongue. My chest tightened. “She’s mated to and marrying General Cassian. Cassian who looks like a God is tied to her.”
“Cauldron spare him,” The other female choked on a laugh, and they both sounded almost sorry for him – like they pitied Cassian for having me as a mate. “The least she could have done is lose some weight for the wedding. I’m a size 2 and I would have tried to get down to a 0, never mind being her size.”
Her size.
Hot, searing embarrassment spread over me like a fire. But I forced down the humiliation and the bile twisting in my gut as I rose to my feet grabbing my purse and unlocking the door as loudly as I could. They stopped speaking and moving, instantly.
And my face was like steel as I stepped out into the main room. And watched their eyes widen, faces turning ashen. It would have been amusing if they hadn’t just torn my sense of self to shreds.
“Oh-“ One of the females gasped upon seeing me. Dumb struck. I saw them both glancing at each other, faces reddening and scrambling to find the words to explain what I had overheard.
I said nothing as I began stalking away, but I kept my face hard and my back straight as I exited the room and moved back through the shop floor. They were scurrying after me, like the rodents they were, likely to beg me not to say anything.
“Y/N!” Mor grinned as she stood at the counter, the first female and another, older female by her side, sorting through some paperwork. Mor’s smile dimmed when she saw my stormy expression. “What-“
“We’re not buying that dress,” I said simply as I stopped at the desk. All eyes latched onto me in surprise. “I won’t be buying anything from this store.”
Mor blinked at me. But upon seeing the severity on my face, the way my hands were clenched around my purse until my knuckles turned white, she didn’t push it.
“All right,” Mor nodded, dropping the papers in her hand, and slipping her bag around her shoulder. She looked at me and smiled, “Let’s go.”
“Wait. Wait-“
I glanced at the older female, seeing the confusion and panic on her face. But it was nothing compared to the panic of the female worker beside her. She looked like she might pass out.
“I’m the manager here, ladies,” The elder female said, and her eyes were kind. She seemed kind. “If you have any issues, please I will do whatever I can to remedy it.”
“You’re the manager?” I asked, and she nodded. I smiled - it was not a kind sight. “Then you should know that I intended to buy that dress, it was lovely. But I won’t.”
“Because of her,” I looked at the first female at her side, my tone as sharp as a blade. She stiffened, like a doe caught by a predator as all eyes fell to her.
“And them,” I turned back to where the two other females stood. Just as stiff, just as caught off guard. Still holding the garments, they had been fixing when they were discussing my body in the dressing room.
“I’d re-think the kind of people you employ here, how they speak and treat your customers,” I said, turning back to the eldest female. She had anger in her eyes now – like this wasn’t the first time. “Because I won’t pay to be ridiculed. And I will ensure that no female I know will come here either, not with the likes of them working here.”
“I apologise for whatever offence they caused, my dear,” She frowned, shaking her head at me. She genuinely looked upset. “I will deal with this accordingly.”
I turned my attention to the workers, to the anger and tears in their eyes. They glared at me as if this were my fault. I shot them a saccharine smile before turning, Mor on my heel as we walked away.
“Are you all right?” Mor asked me softly when we left the shop and walked back into the bustle of the main street.
“I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “I just want to go home. It’s been a long day.”
***
I hear Cassian and Azriel’s laughter the second Mor and I step into the house. And Cassian must sense my presence because I feel a soft brush down the bond, adoring and needy as if trying to coax me to come to him faster.
“Sweetheart,” Cassian grins the second I walk into the room, his handsome face lighting in the most breathtaking way as he rushes over to me. His arms are around me in a second, enveloping me in a great, crushing hug.
It would be sweet. Except his hands dig into the flesh at my back. I can feel my stomach pressing into his hard, carved chest. And he’s lifting me, Gods, I cringe as my feet lift off the ground and he’s bearing all my weight.
“Hey, Cass,” I mutter, trying to force an easy smile onto my lips as he drops me gently to my feet. I push at his chest, pulling free from his hold as I step back, and I don’t miss the small, confused frown he gives me. “Hey, Az.”
Azriel smiles at me, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as I stiffly move around my mate, every inch of me hard and wilting from his loving touch.
“You don’t have any bags with you?” Cassian noted from beside me, his hazel eyes moving from Mor, who was shoving her several bags onto the counter and then to me, with none. “I thought you were going wedding shopping?”
“I didn’t find anything,” I said simply, moving on stiff legs to the dining table. I brush off Cassian’s hand on my back as I do so, and Azriel’s eyes narrow. But again, I ignore it all as I pour myself a glass of water, staring at the clear water as if fills my cup.
“That’s not true, she found a beautiful dress, the dress,” Mor said, her voice exasperated. And my fingers tightened around the glass as I brought it to my mouth and sipped. “She was going to buy it, but the workers were such assholes to her-“
“Workers?” Cassian cut in, voice sharpening. I sighed when he marched to me, towering height peering down at me with anger and concern in his eyes. “What shop? What did they say-“
“Nothing, Cass,” I kiss my teeth, brushing away the hand he brought to my face, annoyance flaring in my eyes. His frown deepened, and so did the tension in the room. “Nothing happened, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Mor argued, and my jaw clenched, as I looked away from my mate to the glass in my hand. “They were mean, Y/N and the way they spoke to you and looked at you, the way they treated you-“
“Mor!” I slammed the glass onto the table, so hard the wood shook from the impact. My sharp yell echoed through the silence as everyone stared at me – shocked. “I said it was fine. Just stop.”
Mor blinks at me, her face falling. I regret yelling at her immediately.
“I’m sorry,” She mutters, guilt in her eyes. I feel Cassian and Azriel’s attention unwavering on me and it’s too much. “I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s fine,” I whisper, voice shaking. My entire body is shaking as I step away from them, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m- I’m going to go get some rest.”
“Y/N,” Cassian called my name as I turned, but I could feel the tears burning in my eyes. So, I kept walking, and walking, and walking.
***
I’m sitting on the chaise in one of Cassian’s old shirts, reading and re-reading the same line in my book when he comes in.
I don’t lift my eyes from that one page, even as my heart thunders in my chest as he silently stalks over to me. I know he can hear my heavy breathing and erratic pulse; I know he can feel my sorrow in waves down the bond.
His footsteps are nearly silent as he moves toward me, and I feel his eyes like a brand on my skin. I suck in a harsh breath when he stops and drops to kneel before me. His large hands brace on my thighs, his face levels with mine and I’m shaking as I keep my eyes down.
I hear his throat work and I clamp my eyes shut when his hand comes forward, gently taking the book I wasn’t reading from my hands and discarding it on the floor beside him. So gentle, so tender, I could feel it just in the way he watched me.
“Look at me, my love,” Cassian whispers, fingers curling around my thighs. I cringe as he kneads my flesh, but his touch is adoring. “Please, look at me.”
I took in a stabilising breath before I fluttered my eyes open and lifted them to meet his. My heart broke at the pain in his eyes, that lovely face twisted with hurt as he beheld me.
“I’m fine,” I muttered. My voice broke. But still, I shook my head, trying to smile. “I’m fine Cass.”
“No, you’re not baby,” Cassian frowned, and a tear slid down from my eyes when his hand lifted and cupped my cheek, darkness in his eyes as he tracked that tear. And the next. And the next. “What happened? What did they say? I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”
My bottom lip trembled as more tears fell from my face, and Cassian released a broken, desperate groan as I tried to fight back my sobs. I curled one hand around his strong wrist, just needing to hold him, to anchor myself to his strength.
“They were looking at me like I was disgusting Cass,” I whispered, unable to say the words any louder. I kept my eyes closed as I spoke - I couldn’t face him. “Like just for existing in my body I should be ashamed.”
He shook with rage. I felt it down the bond, that primal, deadly anger that he rarely ever exhibited but when he did it was catastrophic.
“And when they heard, I was mated to you, that I would be marrying you,” Another sob broke free from me and his hand tightened at my jaw. He leaned forward, trembling as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I overheard them talking about how gorgeous you were and how fucking awful it was that you were mated to me.”
Pain danced through the bond, his pain not mine.
“And I just felt so guilty,” I breathed, sniffing as the tears leaked into my nose and mouth, as Cassian let them soak him too. “You should have a female walking down that aisle who is beautiful and thin, I didn’t even try and lose weight for the wedding, I’m sorry Cass-“
“Stop.” He snarled. And my eyes blinked open latching onto the searing, furious rage in his gaze. “Stop.”
“Cassian – “ I gasped as he grabbed me, fingers curling around my waist and hips and before I knew it, he was lifting me, spinning us so that he sat on the chaise, and I was straddling him. So fast. So easy. Like I didn’t weigh a damn thing.
“Listen to me, Y/N,” Cassian said severely, hand cupping my cheek and forcing my eyes to stay on his. I had never seen him so serious. “I’m going to speak and you’re going to listen, okay?”
I nodded slowly, blinking away the tears as I stared at him.
His hand stayed on my jaw, the other curling around my thigh and keeping my body flush with him. Every inch of me felt every inch of him. I tried not to cringe at what he could feel.
“Do not ever let anyone, male or female, make you question your worth and beauty,” He said, his voice steady and firm. So were his eyes. “Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you are not enough. You are worthy of the world and more, do you hear me?”
I swallowed, my throat painfully tight but at the command in his gaze, I nodded again.
“I should kill those females for speaking about you like that, for making you think that any inch of you is ugly,” He snarled softly, canines baring, and I hated how he frowned, wanting to rub away the crease between his brows. “You are beautiful. You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen in my life. And I thank the Mother every fucking day that she made you mine. That she made me yours.”
A tear trickled down my face. Cassian’s eyes softened and he rubbed that tear and the next away with a tender brush of his thumb.
“Don’t ever think I don’t love your body, I do, I love every curve baby, I can’t resist them,” He sighed, and my eyes fluttered as his hand began to languish across my thighs, moving over my fleshy hips and the rolls at my back with need. “I don’t want you to change anything about yourself, not for me, or a wedding, or to fit into a dress. I want you just as you are.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper, my voice so weak. And Cassian’s face falls at it, at the doubt and vulnerability in my words. “I don’t want to embarrass you Cassian.”
“You could never embarrass me,” He scoffs, and my body melts into his as his hand curves around to cup my ass, dragging me forward so that not even an inch of space remains between us. “I am nothing but a brute. A bastard. But with you? I am the luckiest male in the world, I get to have your heart, your smile, and your body to love and worship and comfort for the rest of my life. I pity other males who don’t have you.”
“You’re not a brute or a bastard or anything else of the sort,” I frown, denial sparking like embers in my eyes. Cassian laughs, his throat thick with emotion, but he laughs at the immediate anger in me. “I love you Cassian. Just like you love me.”
I knew he did. I never should have questioned it.
“And I love you, baby,” He smiles, that kind of smile that knocks the air from my lungs. “I love you so fucking much. I don’t want you to forget it but if you do, I will always be there to remind you.”
My eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to mine, and the feeling is just like home. It’s like finding the other half of my soul and feeling it slot into place the second we meet. It’s perfect.
Cassian grins as I moan, my lips parting to let his tongue sweep in, hot and exploring, tracing against my teeth and tongue like he wants to devour me. His hands ravish along my body, palming my ass, cupping, and toying with my aching breasts, rubbing that deliciously thick length up into me.
“So responsive,” Cassian praises, running his tongue along my lips teasingly and I whimper as he rolls his hips against my wet, swollen clit, so hard I can feel him through his slacks and my underwear. “So beautiful when you’re rubbing against me, my love.”
“Cass,” I moan, eyes fluttering as presses wet kisses against my jaw, his hands cupping my ass and dragging me back and forth over his cock. He groans a rough, lewd sound, one that goes straight down to the heat between my thighs.
“I think you should forgo a dress on our wedding day,” Cassian grumbles against my cheek, hazel eyes flashing mischievously as I grind down against him, faster and harder. “I couldn’t imagine a better sight than you walking down that aisle completely naked, looking like the goddess you are.”
“Cassian,” My back arched, the slickness between my thighs growing more and more, especially as he growled those filthy words into my ears. His hands do not stop for a second, exploring and touching every inch of me.
“Whatever dress you wear will be on the floor anyway,” He chuckles darkly, and I clench around nothing when he shifts me back, his hand slipping between our bodies to untie his slacks. I groan when he pulls his cock free, eager as I push my underwear to the side and line him up to my entrance.
“I plan to make love to this perfect cunt from the second you’re tied to me,” He snarls softly and I’m a moaning mess as I sink, taking inch after inch into my wet core, loving how good he stretches me. “A dress would just be an unnecessary obstacle.”
His teeth nip and bite against my throat as he maxes out inside me and I have to brace my hands on his chest to calm myself, stretched so wide, feeling him so deep. He grins at how breathless and desperate I am, seated inside me like this was his home.
“You want me to walk down naked on our wedding day?” I lift my eyes to him, clenching around him and watching his eyes flutter at the feeling. I smirk, cupping his jaw as I slowly roll my hips. “With so many males present?”
His eyes darken. Like death.
“Rhysand, Azriel, Helion, Varian,” I roll my hips again, moaning at the spark of pleasure that runs through me. Cassian’s hands tighten on my hips, hard enough to bruise and my smirk broadens. “Lucien, Jurian, Eris-“
“I will kill them all before letting them see you naked,” Cassian bucks his hips up violently, slamming his cock to the hilt. I choke on a gasp, slumping into his awaiting embrace.
“Every-“ Thrust. “Last-“ Thrust. “Fucking-“ Thrust. “One.”
I cry out as he drives his cock into me, the sound of my arousal dancing through the air, mixing with my moans. Cassian groans, and I can feel that primitive Fae instinct in him as he fucks me as if he wants to imprint himself onto my very skin.
“You’re mine, baby,” His canines bite against the junction of my throat, just as his cock hits a deep, spongey spot inside me. “All fucking mine.”
“I’m yours, Cass,” I whimper, panting as he slides in and out of me at a brutal pace, every shift of his hips rubbing against my swollen clit. “I’m all yours, yours, yours – “
He smiles.
And fucks me for hours like I was his.
And he was mine. 
_________________________________________
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Taking requests for all SJM men x plus size reader!
631 notes · View notes
nieceeee · 3 months
Note
Can you do a story where ony is a munch (quit pushing me away)
“GIVE ME 10”
Finally got my writing mojo back kinda (still trying to push myself) and I’ve really wanted to start adding more modern au and messages because they are so fun. Let me know if yall like them or not. But heeeeyyyyyy anon😏😘
Thanks for the request baby! I hope this is good enough for you.
PS: Ony’s friends are waiting for him to get on the game but he got a little caught up…
A/N: MDNI, smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, and some other stuff, black coded reader
WC: 748 short and to the point
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“Onyyyyyyy.” You groan, manicured nails gripping against his durag. You eyes threaten to roll back into your head as you feel his tongue swipe against your clit. Thick hands gripping either of your thighs, holding your legs apart as the thick pink muscle slurped at your juices repeatedly.
“F-fuuuuuc Ony baby please. Y-your phone.” You whimper underneath him. His phone had been going off nonstop for the past 20 minutes and as much as you tried to focus on the way that he was pleasing you, the constant dinging that rang out in each message was pulling you from your euphoria. You already knew it was his group chat waiting for him. He had mentioned to you earlier that he was going to get on the game later with his boys. Yet he somehow found his way between your legs and all that flew out the window, the dinging falling on deaf ears as he feasted on you.
”Bae- the phone.” You try to pout but it comes out in a breathless moan as you try to push his head. He lifts his head up slightly, gaze narrowed as he meets your eyes. “Try that shit again and I’ll tie your hands above your head. Quit pushing me away.” He growled before lowering his head back between your legs. His authoritative demand doing nothing more but driving you further in a frenzy.
”Oh shit- right there baby.” You cry out as your grip on the back of his head tightens, that familiar ball of fire beginning to burn in your belly. Ony loves the sound you make when he makes you unravel. He flattens his tongue and presses it against your lips, allowing the saliva to drip down to the tip of it, the wetness slipping down to your ass before he swipes his tongue in a zig zag motion all the way up to your clit.
His mouth closes around your swollen bud and he gently pulls it between his lips, the tips of his tongue flicking back and forth against your hood. “Yes pa- fuck.” Your head drops back, pressing against the pillow as your toes curl up. A wave of heat spilling from your belly and moving through every inch of your body as your orgasm threatens to surface. “Ony baby- ‘m close. So fuckin’ close.” You hips buck against his face but his grip tightens around you, forcing you still. He brings his head up spitting onto your clit before slurping the mixture of fluids. The tip of his tongue danced around your clit in circles. You let out a pathetic whine which only pushes him more. The noises you make stroking his ego. His dick hardens with every taste, his tongue moving back down towards your hole as he fucked you with his mouth. “Shit baby, just like that p-please.” Ony’s tongue moves in and out of you as he brings one hand up adding a finger at the same pace. Tongue stroking the upper inside of your pussy as his fingers dive deep on the bottom.
Another ding rings from his phone but you can’t find a reason to care when he has you on teetering on the edge like this. “On-“ “Don’t you dare mention that phone y/n.” He said before dipping right back into his same pattern. Your body jerks against his hold as you feel yourself crash out, juices spurting out of you as he gulps down your wetness.
Heavy breaths leave your chest rising and falling rapidly. You peer down to meet him and your pussy clenches at the sight of your nectar dripping from his chin. “You so fuckin’ sweet.” He groans, dick pulsing in his sweats as his tongue darts out and swipes the taste of you from his lips. You open your mouth to speak but the ring from another message stops you in your tracks. “Onyankopon, if you don't pick that shit up or turn the damn ringer off.” You fuss, lifting up to rest against your elbows. Ony stays hovering above your pussy as his clean hand reaches over to grab his phone. You notice his head lowering back down as he scrolls through the messages. “Ony, what are y-“ your sentence is cut off as his tongue slides against your pussy again, a shudder trailing down your spine.
The warmth of his mouth covers you again as he types out a quick message to send to his friends.
“Give me 10.”
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buckyalpine · 2 years
Text
Want You
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18+ Minors dni 
Love this. This was literally in the works and then I see this request in the middle of me writing it, chefs kiss.  I love jealously, idk what’s wrong with me but it scratches an itch I cannot describe.
Warnings: FLUFF, pregnancy, Smuuttt (daddy kink, breeding kink,) angst if you squint but honestly not really. 
Word count: 1.6k
The best part is Sharon was so certain Bucky would never chose you. Bucky had a type and it wasn’t you so imagine her surprise when he’s completely smitten by you. And by surprised, I mean complete and utter denial.
She figured it’s just a phase, maybe Bucky is bored, wants to try something new and soon or later, he’ll come to his sense and dump you, it’s just a matter of time.
Except.
The way he is with you is unlike anything else. PDA galore and this is from the man who retches at physical touch.
Bucky’s hands are always on you and the more comfortable het gets, the friskier his touches become. He has you on his lap during movie night, one hand up your shirt, softly stroking your skin. His arms are wrapped around you, cuddling you to his chest like a teddy bear, not giving a shit what movie is on.
All he cares about is cuddling his girl in his arms at all times.
He gets pouty. Sharon nearly loses her shit when she sees how soft he is for you. You can’t even get up and get a drink of water without him trailing behind you or jutting his bottom lip out when you tell him he can stay, you’ll just take a sec.
“But I can come with you”
“Bucky I’m just going to the kitchen”
“I’m coming with you”
His head rests on your shoulder as you make yourself some tea, his eyes closed, arms around you waist, he truly doesn’t ever want to be anywhere else.
And the names. Any girl he’d been with before had only been referred to by name but with you?
“Good morning my baby”
“I missed you babygirl”
“Come cuddle with me bubba”
“How’s my babydoll”
“Where’s my baby” Sharon saw red the day he was going around looking for you, hardly realizing (nor giving a fuck) he didn’t use your name and just went around asking where his baby was. Everyone thought it was the absolute sweetest thing on the planet, love stuck Bucky, happily wandering looking for his babydoll (who was napping in his Henley on his bed). Sharon strongly disagreed.
All hell nearly breaks loose when she comes back from a temporary transfer. She figured Bucky’s infatuation would have died down by now. So imagine her surprise when she sees…
You were fast asleep on the couch, your back flush against his chest. Bucky nuzzled his face into your neck, his hand softly rubbing your little baby bump under your shirt. He couldn’t stop kissing you, giving you gently little kisses, careful not to wake you up while he caressed your tummy, he thought he was in love before but now it was in over drive.
Sharon considered quitting. Because it only gets worse.
You’re almost always in Bucky’s arms. He’s always carrying you. He won’t let your feet touch the ground, not when you’re having his baby. And fuck, he loves talking about it.
“I’m going to be a dad!”
“You think our baby will have super strength?”
“What do you mean I can’t get them a mini knife set”
He’s doting on you constantly, feeding you, rubbing your feet, kissing each of your toes before massaging up your calves. He never lets you shower alone, he’s always there to help you, making sure you don’t slip. He has you lay down on the soft sheets, grabbing your favourite lotion, his hands working in gentle circles, massaging it into your skin. He kisses your stretch marks, taking his time moisturizing your skin, his hands skimming over the little kicks; he loves feeling his little one move inside.
Sharon had a resignation letter ready (thought not submitted) after Bucky took his shirt off at the gym. He’d been shirtless plenty of times so she knew exactly what he looked like, memorizing every scar, and dip of his skin. So this was fucking new.
Bucky’s fists flew to the punching bag, his chest glistening with sweat, beading down his pecs, right over where he had your name tattooed, another tattoo dedicated to his little baby boy etched on his shoulder.
“Y-you got a tattoo?” She tried to give him a flirty smile, her hand coming to trace over the tattoo, her skin flushing in embarrassment when Bucky took a step back.
“Yeah” Bucky stuck to giving her one word answers, in utter disbelief she was still trying to make a move even after he’d had a baby with you.
“ Nice ink cyborg” Sam smirked, hoping to egg Sharon on, loving the way she angriliy huffed, trying to pretend she didn’t care.
“For my angels” Bucky smiled shyly, his cheeks blushing, this wouldn’t be the only piece he had for you.
Stop here if you just wanted some fluff. Continue if you want some spice.
Oh she doesn’t just over hear it. She saw it. It was her fault tbh.
You stayed back while the team had left for an international conference, leaving the entire compound free for just you and a certain super soldier. Sam’s sister had happily agreed to babysit for the weekend to give you both some alone time. And what a fucking time you had.
After learning Bucky wasn’t going, Sharon had managed to find a way to stay behind, figuring this would be the best time to get him alone, completely unaware that you were still at the compound. She did her makeup, throwing on a sheer dress and foregoing a bra, making her way down stairs…when she heard….the fuck?
The sounds of skin slapping on skin echoed through the hall from the kitchen, pornographic moans bouncing off the walls.
Her lips curled into a smirk, even if Bucky was fucking someone else, it was nice to know he wasn’t as loyal as everyone though. He clearly got bored of you, just waiting for the chance for you to leave before he could feel some type of satisfaction.
She crept down the hall, nearly collapsing, watching the both of you, stark naked, fucking on the kitchen counter. Bucky had thrown off all your clothes, bending you over the island, his palm pressing in between your shoulder blades, against the cold marble.
“Y-you like this, huh baby, you love daddy’s cock filling you up? Smile for the camera mama, lemme see that pretty little face”
Sharon felt light headed, noticing Bucky’s phone propped up, his hand coming to tug your hair, your eyes rolling all the way back. Bucky spanked you, causing you to cry out before coming down to kiss your shoulder, thrusting into you harder.
“Look at how fucked out you are baby, how you gonna handle my cum princess, already so fucking gone” Bucky groaned, his cock throbbing as you moaned, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.
“Gonna put another baby in you mama, fuck, can’t wait to see you pregnant again” Bucky’s balls felt heavy, slapping against your clit with each stroke.
“J-J-ames!” You cried out feeling the band tighten in your belly, your orgasam approaching you hard and fast.
“Mmm say my name doll, say my fucking name” He snarled, pulling his cock out, throwing you over his shoulder, moving to the dining table.
There’s no way…he wouldn’t actually…oh fuck. Sharon didn’t know why she didn’t just leave but she couldn’t look away as Bucky set up his phone again. He carefully crawled on top of you, right in the middle of the table (thank fuck for Stark technology, it was built to withstand just about anything), spreading your legs, slamming into you in a single stroke.
“Kinky little baby, wasn’t this your fantasy princess? For me to fuck you right on the dining table” Bucky let out a dark chuckle, brining your thighs up higher so he could hit a deeper angle. You nearly sobbed, your head thrown back against the table as he slammed into you, his hand cradling your head so you wouldn’t get hurt.
“James I-I’m gonna-
“I know mama, squeeze my cock baby, milk it, take my cum” Bucky moaned, nipping and biting your skin, leaving dark bruises in their wake. “There’s so much cum baby, gonna make such a mess all over the table”
“JAMES” You clawed at his back feeling his hand come down to play with your clit, his pace growing sloppy.
“Babygirl….m’gonna knock you up baby, you want daddy’s cum?”
“Wan’ daddy’s cum Bucky, wan’ it!” You whined and cried out, your walls spasming around him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he started to fill you, his cum leaking out of you, dripping through your folds and onto the table.
“So. Much. Cum mama, its so fucking much” Bucky whimpered, his sensitive cock still throbbing in your silky walls. “Fuck, I love you” He grinned down at you, letting his body relax for a bit, as you played with his hair. He let his phone continue recording, he loved these moments just as much.
The whole compound was a mess. Bucky had spilled his cum into you in the gym, the showers, the balcony, the lab, the elevator, and finally in your room, under the covers, his hips slowly rolling against you, taking his time to savour your body.  
Sharon moves to a different department. But it didn’t help. Imagine her surprise when she sees Bucky’s arms full of babies, a little toddler on his shoulder, sleeping twins in both arms, with you by his side, your hand resting on your little baby bump.
Of course she’s still waiting for the day where he’ll lose interest.
And he never does.
Not on the day you got married.
Not on the day you had your fourth baby.
Not on the day you had your fifth.
Not today.
Not ever.
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  
Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987​ @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth   @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen   @ashenc-blog   @buckybarnessimpp  @potatothots @goldylions   @high-functioning-lokipath  @morganemorgane @peaches1958 @kingfleury @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82   @gublur  
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hitomisuzuya · 5 months
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HI SUZU I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL!!
can i request a nsfw scara x needy reader where scara hasn't been giving us a lot of attention and we're just completely touch deprived and begging for his attention?
xxx
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Orgasm denial. Pussy drunk Scara. Brat taming. Masturbation.
Sorry this took me a bit to get to, dear❤️
Being a Fatui Harbinger kept Scaramouche busy, and you knew that. You'd hardly seen him at all lately besides a few kisses in passing. You missed him. Your body ached for him.
You were sitting in his office, watching him work. Enough was enough. Scaramouche was going to give you attention, even if you had to annoy it out of him.
"Scara, is there anything different about me?" You suddenly asked. You stared at him, waiting for an answer. Your lower lip trembled when he didn't even look up at you.
"Hm?" He said, not even a pause in his writing.
"Do you notice anything different about me?" You really enunciated some of your words.
Scaramouche sighed, flicking his eyes up for a moment. "Your hair?" He asked nonchalantly.
"Nope," You countered quickly.
"Your perfume?" He tried again.
"Nope." You shook your head. Scaramouche looked annoyed.
"New jewelry?"
"Nope."
Scaramouche looked really annoyed. You played with the ends of your hair nervously. "So it is your hair?" Scaramouche said, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Now he looked really annoyed, pressing his pen a little rough on the paper. A few moments later, your fingers plucked his pen out his hand, brushing his papers aside you proceeded to sit on his desk.
"Listen, brat--" He began but you cut him off. "All I want is your attention, Scara," You pouted your lower lip out at him for a moment.
Honestly, Scaramouche did miss you too. But there were a lot of preparations he that had to be done before he went to Inazuma. He just had a harder time expressing it sometimes than you did.
However, you needed to be put in your place. He knew what he needed to do. You sounded so pathetic that it made him weak in the knees.
Scaramouche put a hand on your thigh, seeing you visibly shiver. "Oh? Is that all you want?" He taunted, his hand traveling further up to cup your cunt outside of your panties. He rubbed his fingers around on your clit.
You let out a shaky sigh. He applied more pressure with his fingers. Moans bled into your sighs, seeking more friction from his fingers as your clit started to throb. He took them away, laughing when you whimpered in protest. "Why did you stop?" You whined a little.
He glared at you, bunching your skirt up your hips and spreading your legs. "Brats need to learn their place, kitten. You wanted my attention, you are at my mercy now," Pushing his chair back, he dipped his head between your legs.
His tongue prodded your sensitive clit outside of your panties. He groaned as his tongue further soaked your panties with saliva. His hands tightened on your thighs when you squirmed. "Stay still," He growled, licking a line down your cunt and back up again.
Reaching down, you pressed his mouth onto your cunt. He vibrated a moan on your clit, swirling his tongue around it, enjoying every twitch and whimper of need from you.
Scaramouche is incredibly good at building up slow, toe curling orgasms with his tongue. He kitten licked and sucked your clit until your fingernails dug into his scalp from how intensely your orgasm was building.
He had you right where he wanted you. He knew you were close when your moans turned high pitched. He merely smirked at you when he suddenly stopped his ministration again. "Sc-Scara!" The moan you let out was so desperate.
He batted your hand away when you started to pull your panties aside. "Please," You coaxed, stroking your fingers through your hair to tempt him further. He hastily tugged them off, spreading your legs more before sloppily working his tongue on your cunt again.
It wasn't long before he was building your orgasm back up, somehow tighter than before. "Don't you dare cum until I say you can," He moaned into your cunt.
Scaramouche couldn't stand the aching in his cock anymore. Keeping one of your legs held open, he unbuttoned his shorts and took out his cock. Squeezing the leaking tip, he groaned drunkly into your cunt as he pumped his hand.
You were choking back sobs of pleasure between your moans. Your cunt clenched, your walls squeezing around his tongue as he swirled it between your walls. You held his face against his cunt, rolling your hips into his mouth.
"C-Can I cum, please?" You begged. It was no surprise to Scaramouche when the question tumbled out of your mouth. You had been absolutely aching to ask it.
He didn't answer you, latching his lips around your clit instead. You cried out, your legs shaking as you writhed on his desk. It was clear that he was eating you out for his own pleasure now.
You couldn't help yourself. You'd missed him, his touches, his attention, his dominance so much. You ached for him every second you were apart from him. You sudden squirted on his tongue, whimpering apologies between cries of pleasure.
Scaramouche plunged his tongue inside you, lapping up your release. He vibrated moans on your cunt, rutting into his hand until cum spilled warm onto his hand.
He nursed you through your orgasm, licking and sucking your clit. He gave your clit one final kitten lick after a few long minutes. "Now, be a good girl and let me finish my work. Feel free to play with yourself until I am," He teased as he wiped his mouth.
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callofdudes · 1 year
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Autistic Reader headcanons.
A/N: I myself am not autistic but I do know a fair bit about it. So I figured I'd write headcanons before writing a fic just to dip my toes in and see if I can get it right.
I know that autism can present a bit differently for some things across different people. Please feel free to let me know if something in this list is not correct. ❤️
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Ghost would be lying if he said he didn't give you extra special treatment apart from his other teammates. And it's well justified. Simon knows not to compare you to a child but he also knows that you need things the others don't.
Simon has picked up on subtle signs throughout the months working with you. How sometimes when things didn't go according to plan on base it would leave you more stressed out than it should have. Sometimes if your food wasn't what you had expected it to be, he'd notice how you'd react.
He eventually consulted your file before making any decisions. That's how he'd found out you are autistic.
Simon knew someone who was autistic, so he made sure to keep his eye close on you.
He noticed each little shift. How you would stim with your clothing or your hair, too embarrassed to carry a fidget toy around base. But that didn't matter to Simon. He made sure to take care of everything. He bought some fidget toys small enough to fit in his jacket and when in meetings or just sitting around, he'd pull a toy like magic from his pocket and hand it over.
You'd been incredibly grateful the first few times, and then it just became routine that Simon would carry around the toys for you and have one on hand whenever you needed.
He also noticed which ones you liked, and didn't like. Some you would hand back because they didn't feel right on your fingers. Others clicked and slid in a way you didn't quite like, and he kept a tab of that. He compared fidget toys you did like to similar ones and was very precise every time he got you a new one.
He made sure that in every environment he was nearby. How you'd react to the lights, different sounds. How you'd react when it got to loud and crowded or too quiet. What noises bugged you and what calmed you.
When on missions, Simon made sure to talk you through each step. He thought his voice would help you to face the unexpected. Telling you where to go and exactly what to do, ready to face any situation.
"Take a deep breath y/n, you're doing great. Two Shadows on your left, you can take them out from where you are without being spotted"
Your level of empathy and emotional awareness was also something he had to take into account. You could sensitive to anger. You could feel a great deal of empathy and almost take on the burden of It being your fault even if you had nothing to do with it. Because of this, Simon made sure that you were aware his anger was never on you.
"Simon? Did I do something wrong? You looked really upset when you looked at me earlier and I just thought that maybe-"
Simon places his hand on your shoulder. "No no, just had a rough morning. You did absolutely nothing wrong. Got it?"
Simon has also become much more aware of how he teases you. You were emotionally aware to the point that you very clearly understood Simon would joke about being hurt, or would make fun of you and it was all jokes. He understood that you understood how his emotions worked as well.
But there was the occasional time where Simon would pretend to be hurt by your words and you'd have genuine regret. It doesn't happen as often as he would have thought, but when it does, he's right there to reassure you he is completely fine.
Simon actually gets more upset than you do when people call you a child wrapped up in an adults body with a nice little bow on top. Of course you have your traits but Simon has seen your hobbies and interests. You're no super genius but you are more than a child. You just have a different trajectory point on life's train tracks. And Simon makes sure to remind anyone he doesn't think is being respectful of you as a person.
Nightmares can affect you more harshly because of your emotional investment with things and the people around you.
The first time Simon saw you become overstimulated he was a little scared he'll be honest. He panicked a little bit. But now he knows exactly what to do. At first he tried to comfort you, allowing you to be swallowed up in his embrace, he crushed you tightly in his arms and smoothed his hands over your muscles. It would sometimes take a while for you to come down from your high, but he was there for every moment.
When he becomes a bit better at knowing how to handle a situation when you get over stimulated the process is smoother. Simon will notice how you can completely shut down. Sometimes it's near a meltdown with tears flowing everywhere. And other times you just disconnect. You don't move, don't speak, completely distant. Simon approaches you gently and picks you up in his arms.
"This ok?" He whispers near your ear as to not startle you. You cling to him tightly, burying your head in his neck. "Alright, come on, you've had a long day."
He rubs your back and brings you to your room. If you're away from base he just finds a separate room that is quiet. Anywhere he can go to separate the noise and bustling energy from you. If you're in your room he'll lay you down and just get you to relax.
Tears flow down your cheeks, hands still clasping the material of Simon's hoodie. Simon gently rubs your collar and down over your shoulders. He presses on different parts of your arms until you relax. "Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath." Simon breathes in deeply, prompting you to mimick. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and fetches your heavier blanket from the end of the bed. "See? You're ok."
He grabs your fidget from your desk and place it in your hand, or sometimes he'll lean over you and allow you to play with his sweater.
He talks softly and calmly, he does know kinder and softer words of reassurance help.
Sometimes all you want to do is hug Simon under the warmth of your weighted blanket, his arms wrapped around you like mountains compressing you from all angles.
And sometimes Simon will shut the door, lay you on your back and lay the weighted blanket just above the bend in the bottom of your spine. If you want a fidget toy he'll get you one to distract your hands while he runs soothing motions along your muscles, feeling them relax and contract. He plays white Noise in the background for you, or he'll give you his phone so you can watch soap cutting videos or other visually satisfying things.
"How are you doing?" He whispers near your ear, thumbs rubbing over your stomach and up around your back to cup your shoulder blades. "Look at it." You flip the phone to show a satisfying paint video. "Oh, that's a cool one isn't it?" You nod and go back to watching it.
Wherever Simon got so good at doing massages, you would not change it for the world. You've expressed before how nice they feel and how they calm you down. And Simon continues to do them.
Simon always makes sure that when you're over stimulated you have something to do with your hands. Again, if you want to play with his hoodie he'll stay with you so you can. If you want to run your hands through his hair, he's become comfortable enough to allow it.
"What are you doing up there?" He asks with a smile. You hum, combing your fingers through the short hair of his nape and up into the longer locks. "Soft." You express the feeling over your fingertips. "Yeah? I did shower." "I like your hair."
The occasional times you go nonverbal and are unsure how to express your needs, Simon will pull out a few toys and just crawl up next to you. He holds out his hoodie strings and comb his fingers through your hair.
He lays next to you, holding up one of the fidget toys. You gently take it and allow your fingers to move over it. Simon stays, fingers moving to drift through your scalp. You abandon the toy quicker than he expected and reach for his hoodie. "Oh you want this?" He smiles and moves closer so you can play with the strings of his hoodie.
Simon knows that you are incredibly passionate about what makes you happy. He often bugs you that you never shut up, but he knows you love it. One time when you both couldn't sleep early on the morning, Simon made you both tea and sat silently while you went on for nearly four hours about the lore of your favorite game/movie/TV show. He'd add little key points and poke out certain details, which would lead you down a detailed side rant before coming back to wrap everything up. The conversations would ring you dry of information. Simon would be lying if he said he didn't like it when you info dumped on him.
It was one of your ways you expressed your love. Sharing these things that made you so incredibly happy and Simon wanted to be a part of that.
Simon is still learning, and honestly he's very happy to learn. Sometimes he gets things right and sometimes he doesn't. But he is always here to make sure you get the care and provision you need. Whether it's taking a step back or a step in.
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beybaldes · 6 months
Text
Karma is the guy on AFC Richmond, coming straight home to me!
summer sleepover masterlist
roy kent × gn!famous!reader (loosely inspired by Taylor swift and Travis Kelce)
summary: “kisses with a height difference” requested by two anons <33
an: okay you can actually thank the queen of my heart @onceuponaoneshotfanfic for my sudden (although potentially one night only we’ll see if I get my uni essay done lol) return because she reposted a celebrity prompt list and it got my mind whirring oops love you tally thank you for breaking my writers (and reading) block <33
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“Hot.”
One simple word had sent your 68 million instagram followers into an absolute frenzy, and half of them, you were pretty sure, didn’t even know who Roy Kent was.
“‘So nice of them to put this football player on the map?’ They do know I was famous long before you ever were, right?” You only laughed as Roy grew more frustrated, allowing him to scroll through your Twitter account while you made the both of you some breakfast.
“Hey, maybe they have a point?” You tried to stifle your laughter, knowing Roy’s eyes would be sending daggers into your back, though only for a moment so he could continue winding himself up over the things people were tweeting. “I mean Richmond tickets have now sold out for the rest of the season.”
Roy knew you were only joking. Well, kind of. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, recently celebrating your one year anniversary, but besides the odd article about each of you potentially seeing someone, no one knew you were together - let alone that you even knew each other. Keeley had been blowing up Roy’s phone since she saw the comment demanding to meet you, her favourite superstar, and you’d woken up to 37 missed calls from your dad, furious you hadn’t told him you were dating Chelsea legend Roy Kent.
Above everything, you’re still in disbelief Roy tried to hard launch your relationship in the comment section if your most recent instagram post on a random Tuesday evening.
“Hmm, and I’m sure your next tour is going to sell out 10 times faster now the world knows you’re with the great Roy Kent.” Roy had given up on reading tweets speculating about what his comment meant and if the two of you were together, instead choosing to press his bare chest agains your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you finished up breakfast. Fortunately you knew, Roy Kent or not, your next tour was going to sellout. Though you’d rather have Roy be by your side for it.
“Maybe if I’m lucky.” Putting down your fork, you turned in Roy’s hold to face him, standing on the very tips of your toes to press a lovingly slow kiss to his lips. Since dating Roy, you were certain early mornings were for breakfasts that take too long to cook and kisses that end too soon for your liking. Roy’s grip on you tightened and he dipped his head slightly, making the kiss as easy on you as possible. When you began to pull away, he only ducked his head further to press his lips back against yours. “Mmm, although I’d already consider myself very lucky.”
“That you are.” Roy murmured against your lips, immediately pressing them flush against yours when he’d said his piece. “And so am I.”
an: okay short and sweet but I’m hoping to get back in to writing and get up to date with my requests now that I’m settled at uni and with my new job. Missed you guys hope you all are well <33
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's ex!Reader x Alastor)
Pairing: Technically Vox x Alastor but also a little Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.
Warnings: Mild angst. Mentions of a past unhealthy relationship. I'll write some fluff of my own accord soon, I promise.
Word Count: 1,523
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
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The party was supposed to be a fundraiser of sorts, designed to get the word about the Hazbin Hotel out into the world after their numerous previous failed attempts at doing so. Charlie had insisted all the overlords be there and even when Alastor had tried to leave the Vees off the guest list, she had caught him in the act and admonished him for it.
He cursed himself for not being quicker about it, more slick. Vox wasn't a threat but he was an annoyance and one Alastor would rather not deal with. The added threat of further dressing downs from Charlie should he fail to conduct himself in any less than perfectly pleasant in the mans presence was just the icing on the cake. Vox was screeching, he was haughty, he was overwhelmed by himself, he was-
Alastor's train of thought ran off, his breath caught in his throat. The man in questioned had entered, ready to join the fray, but that wasn't the distraction. No, the distraction came in the form of the charming little demon he was helping take off her heavy fur coat. Alastor watched as she smiled gracefully up at Vox, standing up on her tip toes and planting a tender kiss on his cheek.
How could he have forgotten? In the chaos of the past seven years, she had slipped from his mind. How had looking for her not have been the first thing he did when he was allowed any semblance of freedom? He could blame no one but himself. Now, she had fallen into the enemy's arms. Alastor bristled, seizing the opportunity of Vox bringing her coat over the to coat check Husk was running and using his shadows to appear at her side.
Y/n gasped as he materialized beside her, holding a hand to her chest in shock.
"Jesus... Al?"
Confusion marred her features as Alastor took her hand, whisking Y/n towards the dance floor.
"Hello, my dear." he smiled down at her as the music began.
It was a waltz, something by Shostakovich with all his wild rises and falls, all his nonconformity. The perfect soundtrack to their reunion, Alastor thought. Despite her shock, Y/n kept to the timing of the dance perfectly, never missing a step.
"But how... where..."
"I'm back now, darling. That is what matters."
Alastor dipped her and Y/n let out a sharp laugh. He assumed it was joy, it couldn't be anything other in his mind. She watched him in disbelief as he pulled her to her feet once again.
"I am so sorry."
She seemed only to be growing more confused by the moment. He reveled in her wonder as if it were the finest delicacy, a perfectly cooked steak. He had shown her the world again and again, he hoped never to stop having the opportunity.
"For what?"
Of course she would understand, wouldn't blame him, would know it wasn't his choice. She was always so unbelievably perfect like that, surprising him at every turn. Y/n fell into line without him ever even having to ask, it was just who she was. She didn't even have to try.
"For letting you fall into the arms of scum like that. He doesn't own your soul, does he?"
Y/n opened her mouth to speak but in his newfound joy, Alastor was unable to stop himself. How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten?
Her eyes, her smile, her sharp wit -- all of it. Y/n was and had always been, since the first day he had met her, the absolute center of his universe.
"It's no matter. That is easy enough to fix with a contract of our own."
"Alastor."
"Then everything will be all right, things will be just like the old days."
"Alastor."
He spun Y/n out, pulling her back in and catching her in his arms.
"Goodness, I've missed you."
"Alastor!" She pulled himself from his grip, panting.
They stood at the center of the dance floor, still among the whirling bodies. Y/n cleared her throat, smoothing the skirt of her dress. Alastor was thankful that the world around them seemed distracted for the moment, everyone too caught up in themselves and their own lives.
"My dear," he asked softly through gritted teeth, "what are you doing? You'll make an embarrassment of the pair of us."
"That's what I am trying to keep from happening."
"Whatever do you..."
Alastor trailed off, catching sight of Vox as he approached them, weaving in and out of the writhing mass of bodies. His eyes narrowed, his ears laid flat against his head.
Y/n leaned forward slightly, about to ask him what was wrong when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, a smile crept across her face at the sight of Vox.
"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you."
Vox caught sight of Alastor now. Alastor expected the man to attack him, to boast, to do anything except what he did which was lean down to Y/n, his voice laced with concern.
"Are you alright? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
Vox scanned her, looking for any visual signs of upset.
"No." Y/n patted Vox's hand reassuringly where it lay on her shoulder, "No I am fine, I promise."
"Alright, I am sorry. I just know..."
"I know. Thank you for remembering."
Alastor cleared his throat and Vox straightened as he and Y/n turned to face him.
"I have to ask you to leave my girlfriend alone." Vox stated.
His civility sparked something in Alastor, a familiar hunger.
"Your girlfriend?"
Before he could say another word, Y/n cut him off. She took a step forward as she spoke, Vox's hand falling from her shoulder.
"Yes, that is what I have been trying to tell you but you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, you never do."
"But..."
Alastor was completely at a loss for words, a rare occasion. His eyes flicked back and forth between Y/n and Vox.
"What can he give you that I couldn't? What can that bucket of bolts do better than me? I wasn't right, was I? Did you sell him your soul? I know I was gone but how foolish can you be, Y/n?"
She stiffened at the sound of her name on his lips.
"He lets me breathe, Alastor!" Y/n threw her arms in the air, adding emphasis to her words, "He lets me breathe. You never did that. With you, what you said went and I had to follow perfectly, I had to..."
She took a deep breath, her hands balled into fists. Vox took a step forward, they shared a look of reassurance.
"I was never happy with you." Y/n admitted, "I am with Vox. He is a good man, he treats me well, he listens, he takes me as I am."
"And I didn't?"
"No! No, you didn't. You wanted me blood hungry and ravaged, you wanted me as destroyer but that is not who I am. It never was."
Decisively, Y/n turned to Vox, his hand slipping gently into hers. Alastor watched in a mixture of shock and horror, unable to act.
"Do you want to go get a drink?"
"That sounds like a good idea. I think I saw Velvette already over by the bar."
"Of course." Y/n smiled.
The pair's locked hands turned into locked arms. Things had been good, he had thought they had been perfect. He had seen Y/n as the other piece of himself, the extension of the whole.
"I don't understand."
Y/n and Vox froze, their backs to him. With a soft pat to Vox's arm, Y/n turned to Alastor, her expression firm.
"I don't... I thought you loved me."
He was helpless, lost and floating. Alastor's mind ran wild, trying to regain any semblance of control over the situation. There was none to be found.
"I did." Y/n nodded sadly, "For a long time. I didn't know any better, I didn't know what love had the potential to be."
A moment of silence, a heartbeat.
"And he gives you that potential."
Y/n looked at Vox over her shoulder. When she turned back to Alastor, she was smiling. Alastor had never seen her smile like that before.
"He does." she confirmed.
"Come on, sunshine." Vox hummed softly from behind her, a hand outstretched, "Let's go get that drink."
Eagerly, Y/n ran up to him, their fingers entwining once again. Just as they were about to leave Alastor, standing alone on the dance floor, Y/n looked back at him. A wild hope flashed in his heart that was dashed when he was the conflict in her eyes.
"It was nice seeing you. I am glad you're alright."
"You too." his voice was weak, blurred. There was nothing he could do to stop it from being that way.
"I hope... this hotel seems good for you. I hope it works out the way you want it to."
---
Tags:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet 
@reader3
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Note
Can you do one where reader and him are best friends and he walks in on her changing and they both get really flustered? from his pov?
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Delicate point of view
A/N: THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!! So sorry for not getting back to it!! My apps been buggy and hasn’t been showing me any submissions but it’s starting to work again!! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this… thank you for the support my loves. I adore each and every one of you!!
This as requested will be in Harry’s POV but I’ll be using ‘him’ I can just write easier that way instead of using ‘I’ and of course adding in ‘you/y/n’ whenever applicable. I hope that’s okay my love. Thank you again for the request!!
Pairings: Harry x insecure! Reader (decided it could make it more cute!!) exact weight/ body not specified to be all inclusive for different insecurities!!
©️ please do not copy or translate my work.
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Harry had, had a busy day at the recording studio. He was a busy man with a busy schedule and sometimes it was impossible to spend time with those he loved however he had found some time to finally spend some time to relax with you— his best friend. You had been his friend for a long time, since childhood practically. You had both seen each other grow. He had seen you on your best days and worst days and had seen you grow into a mature beautiful woman. He always adored you, seeing you as the most gorgeous person ever but he never made any advances upon you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know how you felt, you sometimes seemed like you wanted him but then at other points you seemed to not want him…. Whether that be due to insecurity or fear of something certain he couldn’t of been sure but gods did he wish he could be with you sometimes. You were both intimate people whom adored one another but nothing ever pushed you guys over the edge of dipping your toes into the depths of love.
He slowly pushed your front door open, he had sent you a message letting you know he was coming to yours for a bit and you were in the shower but your phone had been left on the messages so it indicated you had seen it so Harry walked into the home, quietly shutting the door behind him. He then began walking upstairs wandering into your room gently pushing the door open “y/n I’m here and—“ “HARRY!!” His words were cut off by your voice as you stood there wide eyed dressed in just your underwear and bra. “ohhhh… shit.” He cussed as you both stared at each other wide eyed, his eyes trailed up and down your body a flush of red covering his face his green eyes wide as he admired you thoroughly, he could’ve looked at you all day- admiring all the curves on your body. The tone of your skin… the way your skin looked so soft and delectable… it made his heart race. You genuinely looked perfect to him. His eyes continued scanning up and down your body, unable to look away. Harry had always been the perfect match for you, you were insecure and desperately needed someone to uplift you. Sometimes your weight and body in general scared you and Harry didn’t hesitate to- as your best friend- assure you that weight didn’t matter. Assure you that a real man or a real mature human being would love you as you were… but still right now you were scared shitless. What if he thought you were ugly? you were just unable to speak in general too shocked and rather horrified that your handsome best friend was here staring at you practically nude. Your mouth opened and closed over and over again like a fish, unable to get your words out until eventually— “Harry cover your eyes!!!” Came from your lips and Harry quickly threw a hand over his eyes his ring covered fingers covering his eyes “Jesus Christ y/n..” he chuckled shaking his head “don’t peak!! I swear to god harry,” his cheeks were flushed bright red and he only laughed keeping his eyes covered, “don’t laugh Harry oh my god!! How embarrassing. Oh my god my best friend just saw me nude!” He continued chuckling at your rambling and just for your comfort to make you more comfortable he turned around.
His hands rested on his hips as he stared at the door listening to you rummage around clearly trying to get dressed “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, y/n.” He spoke. “Because YOU Harry fucking styles!! My BEST FRIEND!! Saw me…. Nude! Saw my body!” He could see your shadow moving slightly proving your hands were moving about as you practically freaked out more. He laughed still bright red “not completely nude…” “Harry! Not the point!” His dimples appeared as he grinned.
He heard you groan slightly as you nearly tripped up from putting on your jeans so quickly, your hands trembling your face flushed and your eyes watering fearfully. Harry was genuinely the kindest human being ever but still it terrified you for him to see you like this. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded, before eventually remembering he couldn’t see you and murmuring a quiet “yeah.”
You pulled on your T-shirt as finally you were fully dressed again and Harry turned around looking at you with a small smile before his smile disappeared “hey… what’s the matter?” His brows furrowed concerned and he walked towards you only for you to step backwards “y/n… hey.” He reached out grabbing onto your trembling hands holding onto your hands securely before he brought your hands up to his lips pressing soft kisses to your hands “what’s wrong. You look like you’re about to cry,” he pointed out concerned for you watching as you tried to shy away but he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. He knew the look on your face, he wasn’t stupid, he saw the insecurity the way the fear and sadness flashed before your eyes and he exhaled softly “let me guess… you’re afraid I think you’re ugly?” His words hurt your heart and you looked at him, your lower lip trembling slightly giving him the answer he needed. Sure you were both only best friends but he was always so tender with you. “Darling… don’t be silly. You’re beautiful inside and out… and seeing you without clothes on…. You’re just more gorgeous.” He spoke with a reassuring smile. “Really?” And he nodded his head “of course really. Cant you see my face..?” He chuckled out and you took time to finally examine his face cheeks bright red, eyes glistening, and a wide smile on his face his dimples very apparent. “Oh…” you trailed off softly and he smiled before holding your face in his hands stroking his thumbs against your cheeks lovingly “you’re so so beautiful… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Soon in a rather intimate way Harry leaned in to press soft kisses against your forehead, before trailing the kisses down your cheeks, across your nose, to your other cheek and down to your chin gently avoiding your lips “every part of you. Your nose…. Your cheeks… your lips.. your eyes… your body. All of you is… perfection.” He always knew how you were insecure, how you tried to fit in how perfect you tried to be how the pressure of society was nowadays to have a “perfect” body and perfect face. “Do you really think I’m beautiful? Perfect?” You asked with teary eyes and he nodded his head slowly “of course.” He continued stroking his thumbs against your cheeks softly “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again… whatever you weigh. Whatever anybody weighs… to the right person… it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But there’ll always be judgemental people out there… but no matter what my love… you’re beautiful…. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re my best friend and I think you’re perfect. I know you’re perfect.”
You smiled staring into his eyes watching as he began getting closer and closer until his lips were brushing against yours in a subtle kiss, as if making sure it was okay with you, but you didn’t respond— too shocked, but at you not pulling back, he took that as a yes and leaned in kissing you more deeply pressing his lips hard against yours but the tenderness remained, his hand caressing against your cheek, before eventually he pulled back after a singular kiss to look into your eyes “and… also…” his thumb brushed against your cheek “butterflies can’t see their wings, but they’re beautiful without knowing it.” His lips curved into a small smile as your smile slowly grew and you leaned in kissing him realising just how perfect you both were for each other… the butterflies within your stomach swirled desperately. Oh how you loved him and oh how he loved you.
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angelteyam · 1 year
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Water Girl (n.s.)
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(gif not mine)
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Metkayina!Reader
Word Count: 10,612
Summary: You were...“different”. You had always been different. Yet something shifts when the Sully family arrives, literally crash landing into your village. No one had ever noticed you, and yet, for whatever reason, the eldest Sully boy suddenly can’t seem to get you out of his mind. 
Warnings: major character deaded, floof, angst, moar floof, some kissy and touchy (nothin weird)
A/N: this is….a beast. also do not judge me for briefly mentioning neteyam’s unalivement, I literally do not have it in me to actually write it out. 
- -
“Hush, payíva. Listen to the ocean.”
Payíva. Drop of water.
The first of many names your mother gave you. Granted, she had many names of her own that you’d bestowed upon her too when you learned to speak: mama, sa’nu, mom, mommy. It seemed only natural for her to give you a few of your own, but a couple stuck out as your favorites. 
Payíva, for when you were young, and inconsolable from having skipped a sleep, and refusing to nurse due to the pain of your budding canines piercing through gum. 
Stubborn. As always.
Kxali was overtired too, and having failed every attempt she knew to mother you, and Ronal’s treatments falling on deaf ears, your mother wrapped you tightly against her bosom using one of your father’s shawls, and walked with you along the shoreline. 
Eywa, you were your father’s child. 
Elpawe was with Tonowari on a warrior’s hunt past the reef. The trip was supposed to last a week, but by day three, you had dissolved from your father’s absence. And though neither you nor your mother knew this, Elpawe felt the distance between you was as wide as the chasm of Eywa’s great ocean. 
You were too young to understand that your father, Tonowari’s right hand, would always come back. He had to come back - not just for his mate, but for you. From the day you were born you had him wrapped around your tiny fingers, and as much as your mother’s presence could comfort you, his aura was your salve.
So Kxali did what she could as a final plea, and used a leather belt to secure a warm, deep blue shawl around her hips, before tying it around her shoulders and tucking you into the fabric. Even she could scent your father in the fabric’s weave, and as she tucked you in against her chest, your knees and arms against her as if still in the womb, your howling cries that had lasted for days on end slowed to a dull whimper. 
This whimper continued still, as Kxali scaled a small boulder at the water’s edge to rest with you, her toes dipping into the waves that swirled and tangled around the rock as they made their way to the sandy beach nearby. She settled back against the rock, one hand beneath you for support, and the other came to rest against your head in soothing, graceful strokes. 
Another dull whimper from your small, plump lips. 
“Hush, payíva. Listen to the ocean.”
Kxali let herself breathe as if she was beneath the water. Belly full of air, and heart beating in a rhythm that matched the waves lapping against the shore. A large wave crashed against the rock beneath you, and you whimpered again. 
“Hush, my droplet. The waves are talking to you. The water is with you, just like mama.”
Another wave lapped against the rock, and as if it had heard your mother, it rolled against the shore in a smooth, slow motion, whisking away and leaving a smattering of beautiful shells behind. 
Hush, small one. 
The ocean seemed to speak, and as another wave came passing by, a few droplets of salty water landed against your forehead and trickled down to rest on the perfectly round tip of your nose. 
And just like that, the wrinkles in your forehead disappeared, the tension melted from your eyelids, and your lips parted. A barely audible sigh escaped you, and your mother smiled above you as you began to softly snore.
Your father’s child, indeed. 
As you grew older, the names your mother used for you did too. Most of the time you and your father shared the same one. 
Skxawng.
Although reserved for you when you were behaving particularly like him - meaning, particularly stubborn - for your father, this meant he had missed something important. 
Sometimes he had missed your orbits for hunting trips. This you could understand, for when Tonowari called, your father answered. He had to answer. Your mother wasn’t always so understanding, but these happenings could be forgiven for duty. 
Most of the time however, and as most Na’vi males do, your father would blow right past something even though it was staring him right between the eyes. He couldn’t see a tulkun even if it smacked him across the face with a fin some days. 
A forgotten chore, or a broken spear. Or, as was usually the case, returning from a tussle with another group of males, laughing and bantering as though it had never happened, and completely covered in scrapes and bruises. 
Kxali would patch him up, of course, but if there was one thing your little mind knew, it was that you did not like to see your father hurt. Even the smallest scrape on his cheek would send you into a fit, and you’d worm your way into your mother’s grasp, dipping your hands into the healing sap so you could help your sempu feel better. 
Through eyes full of tears, you’d rub your tiny fingers on the offending mark on your father’s skin - not fully grasping that rubbing the sap in harder would not in fact make the injury disappear. Elpawe would smile down at you, even through gritted teeth, and once done, you’d pull away to assess your work.
“Ma sempu all better?” You’d squeak, and he’d smile. 
“All better, little one.” He’d sigh, and he’d pull you in tightly to his chest, grinning at your mother behind you. 
And every time, Kxali would lightly smack him on the head. 
“You skxawng. You know how she gets.”
And as you grew older still, your mother and father took to calling you the same thing.
Paysmung. Water carrier. 
You may have been Metkayina, but something about your natural abilities in the water and with the ocean’s many creatures had even Ronal scratching her head. Your mother barely had to teach you a basic breath hold before you were swimming off like a fish, running your hands along an ilu’s belly as you swam beneath her. 
You were the one who gave Tsireya her first breathing lessons. You were the one who discovered which shells looked the prettiest in bracelets, and which looked the best against the pitch black of hair. You were the one who started testing your breathing ability by fetching shells from the ocean floor. 
Nothing entirely marvelous, true enough, but when you emerged from the ocean with piles of massive shells in your arms that no one had seen before, the waves clinging to your ankles as if they didn’t want to say goodbye, and no ilu in sight for that matter, you had the entire clan stumped. 
Gradually, though, as you approached your rite with no desire to take after your father’s path of warrior or your mother’s path as healer, and as you continued to spend your days beneath the ocean’s blanket of safety with no interest in a mate, the clan and all her people started to forget about you. 
Not Mama and Papa, of course. But neither of them particularly wanted you to follow in their footsteps. You were different. Softer, and quieter as you had grown with age. Sometimes you could fade into the water as if you were made of the ocean itself. And when you emerged, leaving behind small tokens for your parents that now covered every surface of your marui from floor to ceiling, hung across nets and dangling from ropes that made them twinkle like stars, well…neither of your parents was intent on discouraging you. 
Elpawe held sway, too. Some sort of power in convincing Tonowari to let you be. You did not have the warrior’s spirit, or the spirit of a healer like your mother. And one thing your father was very certain of was that he did not want his little payíva to be forced into choosing a fate you would not readily choose on your own. 
He even managed to convince Tonowari that you weren’t entirely useless. He did teach you how to fight, so you could defend yourself if you ever truly needed to. And your mother taught you to heal basic scrapes and mend small cuts, and to tend to the elderly and the sick. Where Ronal went, your mother followed, and you followed behind when you were needed. And when Tonowari watched you emerge from the water with a net full of fish you’d guided in as if you were their commander - well, that was a done deal.
And thus, you were left alone. 
Left alone as your mother and father grew in their duties. Left alone with no siblings to keep you company, and with the village’s children skeptical of you from the beginning, you had no friends besides those who lived beneath the ocean. Left alone to bond with your own spirit sibling, your very own tulkun, who would take you swimming father and deeper into the blue water than you’d ever gone before. 
Left alone with no mate, and no prospects who interested you, either. 
Invisible. 
That is, until the Sully family arrived. 
You were on the outskirts of the village, hopping along a ring of rocks that stuck out from the ocean during low tide, when a group of five ikran flew overhead, circling a sandbar at the village’s edge. They landed in a flurry of sand, hands raised and unarmed. 
And far too blue.  
The clan emerged in droves from their marui, and rode in from the waves at every angle on ilu and skimwings in a rainbow of colors, gathering around the new arrivals like a school of fish. You watched Tonowari and your father approach from the water, dismounting their skimwings and moving towards the strangers. Your mother and Ronal came from the back of the village, winding their way through the crowd. 
You sighed, having a feeling you’d probably be needed, and leapt into the ocean, allowing a swell to carry you towards the shore. You popped up next to Tsireya as she broke the water’s surface on her ilu, allowing yourself to catch your breath.
“What’s going on?” You wondered. 
Tsireya shrugged and rolled into the water, strolling up through the shallows to meet Ao’nung and Roxto. 
You watched as she and the smaller of the two sons met eyes, and as she tilted her head down to giggle. 
Gross. 
Of course Tsireya would immediately peak the newcomer’s interest. Why shouldn’t she? You may have been obtuse at the best of times, but you weren’t blind. Tsireya was one of the more beautiful girls in the village, and from the way the younger Sully looked at her, he wasn’t blind either. 
You rolled your eyes and plopped down to your knees, wiggling them into the wet sand of the shallow water. The water reached your chest, allowing you to tilt your head and watch Jake Sully’s plea for uturu. As Tonowari looked to your father and mother standing behind him. As his eyes met Ronal’s, and they shared a knowing glance, communicating in a way only mates could without words, before granting Jake Sully’s request.
You could see your mother’s eyes scanning the crowd and the water below, before they found you with a knowing smile. 
You smiled in return, and tilted your head in a silent gesture. You were going back out into the water. Your mother nodded, and signed to you. 
Go. Be back before eclipse. 
You nodded and pushed from the sand, legs extended as you floated onto your back, allowing your belly to fill with air before rolling over and diving below the surface, angling back to the spot from whence you came. 
What you hadn’t noticed was the older Sully boy watching you the entire time. 
After he’d shoved Lo’ak gently with his shoulder when the younger boy couldn’t peel his gaze from Tsireya’s, Neteyam’s eyes had scanned the crowd. Half to survey the surroundings and half out of an inherent protectiveness, while the rest of the clan had come to the shore, you had remained in the water, staring at his father with nothing more than blinking curiosity. 
He could barely see you in between the throng of people. But something in the tilt of your head, in the doe-eyed innocence of your gaze, and the way the ocean clung to you like a second skin had him very, very curious. 
When you pushed from the shore and floated on your back, rolling over and swimming away as if you were a fish instead of Na’vi, he had to chuckle. 
You hadn’t even noticed him noticing you. After all, no one except your parents up to this point had out of anything other than animosity, or because you were “different”, and not in a good way. While some - Tonowari and Tsireya, like your father - were accepting of those different from them, much of the clan felt the opposite. And as a result, the clan preferred not to notice you.
But you noticed them. 
You noticed everything. The glow of a new mother’s skin. A breaking fever. A warrior’s wound when it wouldn’t heal. Things you could appreciate in silence, small things more often than not. Secrets you could share with the water. 
You preferred the ocean as your friend anyway. 
But this - these new arrivals, this was a big thing. Several 9-foot tall things. And at first, Jake Sully, or rather Toruk Makto, commanded all of your attention. He mystified you. A walking legend. You knew his story, but seeing him in person was a whole different experience. 
He may have been a legendary war hero, but he and his family knew nothing about the way of water. More than that, the oldest of his children looked to be about your age. 
They were worth watching.
So when you watched their first diving lesson from afar, lounging on a large ocean rock, and when their first breathing lesson went less than spectacular, you too had to press the back of your hand to your lips to keep from laughing. 
You may have been a skxawng, but these children reached a whole new level. 
One of them - the girl, Kiri, seemed a lot like you. 
She explored the same spots you did, ran her fingertips along the bellies of the rays just like you did, and plucked shells from the ocean floor as if she’d been doing it all her life. 
So one afternoon, as you watched her scan the ocean floor, you unearthed an iridescent purple shell from the sand and swam over to her, pressing it to her palm with a smile. She smiled in return, and you nodded, swimming away.
From that moment on, Kiri was a kindred spirit. 
You were never far apart, though you tended to drift away when a particularly colorful fish caught your eye. Call it a short attention span. But usually, you never swam too far, keeping her within your eye line.
You had enough shells as it was already. So if you found any more, you’d gather them for her, leaving her little piles on the beach as she sat in the shallows. Back and forth, almost like a game, if only so you could discover what her favorite color was.  You were never gone more than a few minutes before you’d return to her side and lay in the sand together, letting the sun soak into your skin and warm the chill of the water. 
You didn’t even really need to speak. Kiri understood your facial expressions more than words, particularly in the way you’d roll your eyes, so you’d just sit in comfortable silence together, building small structures out of sand and decorating them with the shells you found. Sometimes, little Tuk would join you, staying strictly to the shallower waters or the beach, allowing you to bring her tokens of appreciation as well. Tuk wasn’t picky - she didn’t have a favorite color.  She liked everything you brought her, big and small. 
It was a strange sort of comfort, having friends who didn’t even really need you to speak. You could just exist, even in silence, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. While the ocean may have been your friend thus far, it was nice to have friends of your own species. 
And the more time you spent with Kiri and little Tuk, the more Neteyam noticed you. 
The more he noticed the ease with which you hopped from boulder to boulder before diving into the water. The more he noticed the little treasures you’d find for Kiri and Tuk displayed in his family’s mauri. He started to wonder where they were coming from, and how they’d found so many. And then he started to notice that wherever Kiri was, you were usually within diving range. He started to notice the piles of treasures you’d leave her and Tuk, either on the shore or on the edge of their marui. Now, they grew to necklaces and bracelets, woven from their favorite treasures you’d found. A new braid that seemed to pop against their dark hair, a vibrant, colorful shell at its end. 
You were never far away from his sisters, and as he was never very far away from them either, Neteyam became the very first to take notice of you. 
To be fair, no female had peaked his interest yet either. He was far too busy staying attached at the hip to his baby brother until now. With Tsireya taking Lo’ak under her wing, Neteyam had the free time he’d never had before to take in the ocean around him. 
And where there was ocean, you were usually swimming within its waters. 
This time was valuable to Neteyam, and usually short lived. Stolen moments like the movement of the waves, there one minute and gone the next. Of course, as the eldest sibling, he still had to keep a reasonable eye on his younger brother and sisters. But with Jake learning the Metkayina’s ways with Tonowari and your father, Lo’ak under regular supervision by someone other than himself, and Kiri and Tuk always within the reef’s circle when they weren’t with Neytiri, Neteyam had the chance to take a breath. 
In the same way Tsireya had caught Lo’ak’s eyes, you had captured Neteyam’s attention. 
He started to learn your ways more than the Metkayina ways he was meant to be studying. He learned the boulders you favored when they appeared during low tide, and those you favored during eclipse. He learned your favorite paths to swim, and which you hadn’t explored yet. 
And boy, it made him laugh when he’d trail you to one of said favorite spots, only for you to dive into the water without even blinking, not realizing he’d been following you. 
Selective hearing, maybe, or pure tunnel vision, you usually only noticed the things you were interested in, or the things that were directly in your eyesight. Neteyam was worth noticing, of course, you just hadn’t laid eyes on him yet up close, and you hadn’t yet realized the irony of the one person you were destined for being the one thing you had failed to notice. 
Like two moons passing. Two arrows firing towards the same target. Now, Neteyam was just holding his breath, waiting for the two of you to collide. 
If you would ever open your skxawng eyes and notice him, for Eywa’s sake. 
It took you a solid week to finally realize he existed. And the only way he managed to accomplish this was waiting for you to take your spot on a boulder during a particularly sunny afternoon. He dove in from the shoreline, scanning the ocean floor for something he knew would peak your interest, and found a smooth, polished sea stone that glistened like crystal. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve kept it. 
He’d grabbed it from the sand, and rubbed it clean with a few swipes of his fingers. It was the size of his palm and oval shaped, with no imperfections. When he turned it in his hand, it seemed to sparkle, reflecting the colors of the ocean and the whiteness of the sand. When he passed it by his face, he could see the yellow of his eyes reflected on its surface. Special, and perfect, and new, it was strange the way the stone reminded him of you. 
He was positive you hadn’t found something like this yet. 
He pushed from the floor with his feet, aiming straight for the boulder he could see you sitting on, your feet dipped in the water beneath you. Slowly, he eased to the surface and emerged from the water. 
Your eyes flicked to him, narrowing when you noticed who it was. A low hiss left your lips, but Neteyam just…smiled. 
You cocked your head, eyes still narrowed, skeptical of the stranger as he swam towards you. As he approached, he raised his hands, one still closed around something. 
“What is that?” You gestured. “In your hand.”
Neteyam eased up towards the boulder and grabbed your wrist, extending your palm towards him, and placed the smooth stone within your grasp. 
“For you,” he breathed. Still smiling. 
You stared at the stone in your hands, flipping it between your palms and holding it up towards the afternoon light, allowing it to glint in your eyes. Neteyam just grinned, watching your increasing awe in what he’d found. 
When you finally met his gaze, and he was still beaming up at you with a toothy grin like you’d never seen before, you couldn’t help but blush and gaze back at the stone in your hands.
“Thank you,” you murmured. 
Neteyam nodded, pushing off from the rock. He still wore that same bright smile. 
As he floated back towards the shore where Kiri and Tuk were playing in the sand, he touched his forehead and released his palm towards you in a silent gesture. 
I see you. 
You could feel the heat spread across your cheeks. Turning your attention back towards the stone in your hands, you tried your hardest to keep your gaze from flicking back and forth towards Neteyam as he swam for his sisters on the shore. 
Tried, and failed. 
The way his deep blue skin seemed to ripple through the ocean water, instead of blending in like yours. The swing of his arms, and the dance of his braids as they floated behind him. 
You could still feel the cool, smooth surface of the beautiful new treasure he’d brought you as it lay in your palms. And yet, your eyes stayed glued to him as he emerged from the water, stumbling a bit in the sand when he tried to shake the water from his braids. You chuckled, rolling your eyes. 
Definitely a skxawng.
Later that evening, you placed Neteyam’s rock on a shelf in your marui, right in the middle of all of your favorite treasures. Tilting your head, you studied its presence among the rest of your collection, noting the way it reflected the colors of all the shells nearby, brightening their shades and making its own rainbow on the floor of the marui below you, taking the best pieces of each and turning it into something new and brighter. In all the time you’d picked pieces from the sandy ocean floor, you hadn’t found anything quite like this. 
Neteyam had definitely gotten your attention. 
The next day, you returned to the same boulder, sitting in silence as Kiri wandered the shore behind you. The rock was warm beneath you, and as you lay flat against its surface to bask in the sun, you heard a light splashing that was distinctly un-wave-like coming from your right. 
“I know you’re there,” you sighed. 
A chuckle came from the same direction as the splashing, and you felt a presence ease up from the water and climb across the boulder to lay next to you. 
“How’s it going, water girl?” 
Water girl. 
And thus, your most recent nickname. You had to chuckle a little; only a skxawng like Neteyam would come up with a name like “water girl”. But alas, it did have a certain ring to it, and of the many names you’d had over the years, something in the way he said it made your insides flutter in a strange way you’d never known before. 
It wasn’t paysmung, that was for sure. But it would do. 
“Never better, tree boy.”
Another chuckle. 
“Tree boy?”
You finally turned your head and opened your eyes to find him as close as he could possibly get without actually touching. His wide, yellow eyes were mere inches from your own, beads of ocean water still clinging to the tips of his eyelashes, and glistening from his forehead. 
You couldn’t find it in your heart to try and lie to yourself - he was kind of pretty. 
You smiled. “Water girl, tree boy. It fits.”
Neteyam smiled, and up close his smile was even brighter. It was effervescent, glowing like the rock he’d brought you the day before, and you couldn’t help but grin in response. 
“Fair enough,” he shrugged, closing his eyes and turning his face towards the sun overhead, letting the warmth of the midday dry his skin. 
And just like that, a peaceful silence settled in the air.
It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but as you watched the rise and fall of his chest, and the glisten of his cheeks as the light hit their peak, you swore a school of fish was swimming through your stomach. One of his hands rested gently against his stomach, lifting and sinking as he took slow, deep breaths. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn he was asleep. 
His eyes fluttered open, and you snapped your eyes shut, feigning that they’d been that way the entire time, and that you hadn’t been staring at him as if committing his features to memory. You heard him chuckle softly, and when your eyes opened, he too was scanning your features. 
As you watched his eyes flick from the top of your head to the pinnacle of your chest, where your neck dipped and curved into a hollow at its base, you felt your pulse quicken and a small ball of tension seemed to roll through the air around you. The school of fish in your stomach turned into a full swarm, dancing and spinning and tickling your insides. 
No one - quite literally no one - had ever made you feel this strange sort of tension just from existing. 
But in the same way you found him kind of pretty, he too was entirely raptured by your beauty. In the way the darker skin around your shoulders and hairline turned soft and creamy towards the center of your face. In the fullness of your lips, and the way they parted softly as he gazed at you. In the way the color of your eyes matched the blue of the ocean like no one else he’d seen, as if you were part of the water itself.
He turned toward you, resting himself on an elbow, eyes still scanning for any hesitation from you. But you were frozen, still as the rock beneath you, as he brought a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 
He started to smile, and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, there was a commotion from the shore. You both sat up, tilting your heads to watch as Ao’nung approached Kiri as she lay in the shallows, three other boys following him.
Neteyam’s stare instantly hardened. 
“I’ll be back,” he growled. “Stay here.”
You tried to reach for him, but he dove into the water before you could grab his wrist, swimming for the shore just as Lo’ak approached the group from the other end of the beach. 
You watched as he emerged from the water, as he shoved Ao’nung away from Lo’ak, and prodded him with a finger to the chest. Ao’nung raised his hands, and as Neteyam pulled Lo’ak and Kiri away, you allowed a brief release of breath. 
And then Lo’ak punched Ao’nung in the face. 
Three times. 
You were already on your feet when Ao’nung hit the sand, but when Neteyam scratched his head and leapt into the fray, you dove into the water in an instant. 
You had just reached the shore when Lo’ak was being pulled by his tail, grasping the nearest Na’vi by the ear. After all, when Lo’ak was grabbed, he tended to grab right back, and with tenfold force. Even you knew this. 
Kiri was safe, and fine, on the edge of the fight and trying not to laugh. Neteyam had a clear edge over another boy, and had him pinned by the full force of his body weight. And while no one at noticed your arrival yet, when you walked right up to Ao’nung and grabbed him by the queue, jerking him away, everyone stopped moving as Ao’nung let out a particularly girlish squeal. 
Ao’nung’s eyes widened when he realized who had grabbed him.
“That’s…enough,” you growled. “Honestly, behaving like a child.”
You released Ao’nung’s braid, tossing it from your hands. You could feel Neteyam’s eyes boring holes in the back of your skull, Lo’ak’s too. But the way Ao’nung was completely baffled by your intervention, when you had done nothing of the sort for years, had a strange sort of pride swelling in your chest.
You were not one for fighting. Eywa, you weren’t even one for words. Ao’nung only knew of you as the silent freak, who was not even fun to pick on because you simply didn’t respond. 
Suddenly, you’d barged right in, and while Neteyam had managed to get them to back off, you had Ao’nung gaping like a fish. 
“Three of you,” you continued. “Against one. Really upstanding behavior, Ao’nung.”
Ao’nung’s eyes narrowed, and the surprise wore off. 
But still, you kept speaking, tilting your head and matching his squint.
“Shall I fetch your father?”
Ao’nung instantly closed the distance between you, puffing his chest and squaring his jaw with yours. 
“That’s rich,” he leered, “coming from the biggest freak of them all. You’re even worse than Kiri.”
Before you even had a chance to respond, and before the telltale tears could well in your eyes, your gaze was interrupted as Neteyam quite literally forced his way between you. He shoved Ao’nung aside for the second time, with such force that Ao’nung stumbled into the water. 
This time, however, Neteyam kept one arm wrapped securely around your waist, and his tail around your upper thigh. 
You were pressed flush to him, as if you were a second skin, giving you a front row seat to the clench of Neteyam’s jaw. 
“Stop. Leave her alone.” 
Ao’nung studied his surroundings. The three others still hadn’t stood from the sand, where they lay with hands clutching their various injuries. Lo’ak stood between them and Kiri, and despite the slight sway of his stance, his fists were clenched and his brow was hardened in a gaze eerily similar to Neteyam’s own stare. 
And what was worse - from over Neteyam’s broad shoulder, you could faintly make out the silhouettes of Jake, Ronal, and Tonowari approaching from the edge of the village. 
They didn’t look happy. 
Ao’nung turned to his friends, and gave a slight gesture. 
“Let’s go.”
They left, leaving you still pressed to Neteyam, your hand now resting against his bicep. It was warm beneath your fingertips, and you could feel the ripple of his muscle beneath your touch as he let go of you, replacing the smooth skin of his back with a firm grip on your waist as his eyes turned to meet your own. 
“Go,” he murmured, voice lowered as if no one could hear. “Go back to the rock. I’ll meet you soon. I have to talk to my dad.”
You nodded, looking past him as Jake stopped halfway to you, just as Ao’nung passed him with the three others. You had only seconds before he would reach you. 
Your eyes returned to his, dipping below to where a cut had opened in his lower lip. 
“Will you be alright?”
He nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go.”
Reluctantly, you slid from under his grasp, and turned back towards the water. You turned briefly to Kiri and Lo’ak, making sure they too were alright, before you jogged away and leapt into the water, swimming for the same boulder you’d just come from. 
You stopped halfway to catch your breath, and turned your head to where Neteyam was following Jake back towards the village. Jake had a firm grip on Lo’ak’s upper arm, and was tugging him along the sand, wearing the same scowl he’d had moments prior. 
Neteyam’s head was hung low, his fist pressed to his cut lip, braids only barely swinging as he trudged behind his father. 
You sighed. As you turned back to finish the brief swim to your boulder, you sent a silent prayer. Hoping Jake would go easy on them - particularly on Neteyam, who had only stepped in to protect Lo’ak, and who would have succeeded had the odds been more evenly matched. 
When you reached the boulder and climbed out of the water towards the surface, you stood for a moment, watching the now miniature figures of Jake, Lo’ak, and Neteyam disappear into the shadows of village. You sighed again, and having hoped you’d be able to see them from your small vantage point, you sank down onto the rock. 
Feeling perfectly hopeless. 
If anything, you wished you had done more. You wished you had followed Neteyam immediately, or even more that you had managed to grab him. That you had dove into the water together, and approached the group at the right moment. 
You wished, more than anything, that you hadn’t waited. 
It was starting to gnaw at you - that your life seemed like a bottomless pit of waiting. That you had no power other than to stand still at life’s rocky edge, helpess to do anything other than watch as moments passed you by. You were the silent one; the powerless one. The freak, as Ao’nung had put it. And even if you tried, you could quite literally do nothing to help as those around you seemed to suffer. 
Now more than ever, this gnawing deep within started to feel more and more like a heavy weight. It hadn’t bothered you until Neteyam had entered the picture, but the vision of his split lip, and the bruises beneath his right eye, and the scrapes on his chest now made the tears you’d held back come bursting to the surface. 
You had only known him in actuality for no more than a day, and yet the way he’d come bursting to your rescue had you not only confused, and perfectly and completely smitten, but utterly heartbroken that he’d even needed to do so. 
And moreover, entirely positive that you weren’t worth saving. 
Kiri was - there was no question about that. Lo’ak definitely was, especially when he was that outnumbered and still managed to do considerable damage to his assailants. 
And then…there was Neteyam. 
Neteyam, who had successfully stopped the fight with nothing more than his presence. 
Neteyam, who when you arrived had Roxto pinned beneath him, who had Roxto powerless to fight back as he swung punch after punch. Who would have won for the second time if there had been one less to account for. 
Neteyam who, in truth, did not need your help winning. 
You had yourself fully convinced of this by the time you heard a light splashing coming from your left, and growing closer. You felt the lump in your throat swell as Neteyam eased his way onto the boulder, and that same lump grew larger when he grunted at the effort of bringing himself to your side. 
That groan, that all-encapsulating sound of pain, had you nearly shattering as your eyes opened, and you sat up to meet him face to face. 
When his eyes met yours, and you came in full view of the now purple bruise beneath his eye, and the cut in his lip that was seeping blood, and the scratches on his chest that extended the full length of his right pectoral muscle, you made a strange squelching sound, and plopped your head to his left shoulder. 
If you could have only seen the way Neteyam’s eyes widened at your touch, and softened at the feeling of wetness on his skin when he realized you were crying, you would have only broken more completely. 
Neteyam was not used to girls he liked crying on him, that much was certain. In fact, Neteyam didn’t have much time for girls period. So the fact that you seemed to be upset - over him - was entirely perplexing, confusing, and perfectly heartbreaking, all at the same time. 
Sure, he’d wanted you to notice him. Sure, he’d wanted you to return his pathetic attempts at affection, that he hadn’t yet realized you didn’t find pathetic in the least. Sure, he’d wanted to bring the two of you closer, and he’d wanted nothing more than your worlds to finally collide.
But not like this. 
Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t particularly enjoy standing up for Lo’ak day in and day out - but that was his job. Literally, as the oldest brother, it was in his internal code to defend his younger siblings. It was his job to get Lo’ak out of the trouble he somehow managed to always be getting into.
But this - this was new. This was different, and ugly, and soul-wrenching. He loathed the feeling that ate him up inside now, as he brought up a hand to rest against the back of your head. 
He’d seen Jake do this for Neytiri many times. He’d seen Jake comfort Kiri this way, and he’d seen it work. 
What he hadn’t picked up on was the mirroring of pain that Jake felt when he had to comfort those closest to him. Realistically, Jake just hadn’t shown this, especially when his kids were around. It would have been helpful to know how much the sound of you crying - over him - would absolutely obliterate him, but then again, Jake probably would have never discussed it, even if Neteyam asked. It would have been helpful to know that by comforting you, that by taking away your pain, he would only be absorbing it into his own skin. 
So, Neteyam did what he knew how to. 
With the one hand still resting on your head, he brought the other to the small of your back, pulling you in as closely as he could, stroking your skin in soothing, circular motions. Hushing you, whispering in your ear, and trying with all his might to get you to stop crying. To make you stop being sad if he could. 
Because as he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t yet seen you smile. 
Actually smile. 
You’d grinned, of course, and bared your teeth at him in a hiss. You’d smiled with your lips closed, and he’d seen you let out small smiles, only when you were around Kiri or Tuk. And he definitely hadn’t seen you laugh yet. 
The moment he realized this, he decided right then and there that if he had any say in the matter, you wouldn’t ever be sad like this again. That he would never, ever give you a reason to cry over him again. 
And just like it was his duty to protect his siblings, Neteyam made a solemn vow to himself, the ocean, and Eywa - and frankly, anyone who was listening - to add you to that list. 
He would never again stand for a skxawng like Ao’nung, or anyone else, making you feel like you were less than the perfect being you were. And he certainly wouldn’t allow anyone else to ever again make you feel like you were a freak. To Neteyam, you were as perfect as the stone he’d brought you the first time you met, and the moment you were done crying, he was going to make sure you knew it. 
And if Ao’nung wasn’t already bruised into the ground from Lo’ak’s powerful right hook, then Neteyam was going to put him there, chief’s son or not.
Neteyam let loose the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. For the first time since he’d climbed up to meet you on the rock, his focus shifted from where you sat silently, head still resting on his shoulder, tears slowed and breathing returning to an even keel, to the salty water stinging the cut on his lower lip.
You felt him shift, as he brought the hand that had been resting on your lower back up to his lip, and you felt him tense beneath you at the self-inflicted pressure.  A low groan left him, and you finally had to tilt back from your spot against his shoulder to study his face. He was blinking from the pain, his tongue rubbing at the offending cut, smearing a trail of blood across his chin. 
You brought your hand to his, pulling it away from his face to give you full view of where his once perfect lower lip bore a gash the size of your thumb. You winced, and brought your free hand to his cheek, stroking with your thumb the area that had bruised beneath his eye. And without thinking, you leaned in, gently pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth where there was no cut. 
Perhaps you thought it would make him feel better. Perhaps you thought you could take away some of his pain. Perhaps you were hoping for some sort of redemption, after you had behaved quite unlike yourself for the past few hours. After you hand dissolved at the mere sight of him, and had sat there like a skxawng with your head in his shoulder, your salty tears soaking into his skin. 
Still, you had no idea what came over you.  
Now though, as you studied his face, and his still widened eyes from your half-kiss, and ran a gentle finger over the scratches on his chest, you felt your normal steely resolve return somewhere deep within you. 
“You’re hurt,” you murmured.  
Neteyam shrugged. “It’s fine.” 
As he spoke, the blood was beginning to pool, even from such minimal effort. You shook your head and stood from the rock, pulling him up with you by the hand. 
“Come. Let’s get you patched up.” 
You dragged him down the line of boulders, chuckling softly when he nearly missed a jump, stumbling slightly from the rocky surface. As you reached the outskirts of the village, you both slowed from a jog to an easy walk, Neteyam only needing to extend his gait to come level with you, his arm brushing against yours as you made your way to your marui. 
You had to swallow down the slight spark of excitement building in your throat at his touch, and forced your focus to narrow on the injured boy following you. 
This was no easy feat, to be sure. But as you entered your marui, and gestured for Neteyam to sit on your mat, you felt that same steely resolve take over as you gathered your supplies. 
When you turned back towards him, a pile of bowls and dressings in your hand, Neteyam yet again had his hand against the cut, and his tongue running against it’s edge.
“Stop that,” you barked, “You’re making it worse.”
Neteyam’s hand dropped to rest in his lap, and as you knelt before him, organizing your supplies at your side, you could feel him watching you. Studying you.
You chose for the moment to ignore his piercing gaze. Instead, you brought a hand to his ankle, gently pushing it aside where he had been sitting cross-legged, allowing you to scoot your way in between his legs. He allowed his arms to stretch out behind him, resting the majority of his weight on the heels of his hands. 
When he had made himself mostly comfortable, you started with the scratch on his lip. If only just to get him to stop messing with it. 
You cleaned it first, wiping away the smears of blood, and after you’d cleaned and sanitized it, you gently applied pressure with a clean cloth. 
“Hold here,” you whispered, and Neteyam obeyed, bringing one hand to rest upon the cloth. 
This gave you the chance to apply a smooth, buttery healing salve to the bruises beneath his eyes, and those smattering the skin around his neck and chest. Next, you applied the same salve gently to the scrapes on the skin of his chest, and wrapped a bandage from around his shoulder to cover them, and to allow the salve to seep into the cuts so they would heal. The muscles in his chest rippled beneath your touch, and a low hiss left his lips from the slight, momentary sting as you finished your work. 
Finally, you gently pulled his hand away from his lip, removing the cloth with it. 
The bleeding had stopped from the pressure, and the wound was now clotted. You took the same salve on the pad of your forefinger, and eased closer to Neteyam, your face mere inches from his own. Studying the wound, you brought a hand beneath his chin to steady him, and bending forward, you flicked your eyes up to meet his. 
“This will sting again,” you muttered, waiting for him to gently nod.
When he closed his eyes, you went to work, applying the salve as quickly and gently as you could so the sting wouldn’t last. 
You didn’t even notice that as you finished your work, removing the bandage from around his chest where the salve had soaked into his skin, Neteyam could not stop staring at you. You didn’t notice, that is, until you bent back, resting on your heels, and came face to face with him.
This time, Neteyam had closed the distance between you, his knees resting against yours, and has he brought one hand to tangle in your hair, his other hand swept a stray strand behind your ear for the second time that day. 
And just like that, your breath was stolen from you in a small sigh that left your lips. 
For a moment, everything seemed to pause. 
For a moment, it was just you and him, eyes connected. His piercing gaze seemed to search yours, eyes flicking back and forth, scanning for any sign of hesitation from you. One of his hands rested on your cheek, and the other rested against the back of your neck, still tangled in your thick hair. He blinked once, twice, still studying you for any sign of pause, or resistance.
And other than the fact that you had stopped breathing almost entirely, there was none. 
Your heart didn’t even have time to skip a full beat before Neteyam brought his lips to yours. 
For a moment, all you could taste was the tangy bitterness of the salve against your lips. For a moment, it seemed as if your lips hadn’t actually met yet, the salve creating a slippery barrier between you where your lips couldn’t find traction. 
And then Neteyam was pulling away, just for a moment, laughing breathlessly, grabbing the cloth from beside him and wiping away the salve from his lips and yours.
You laughed, really honestly laughed as he palmed the cloth against your lips, muffling the sound only slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he brushed the cloth against your lips. 
He was laughing too, and once the salve was gone, the both of you had to pause, catching your breath. 
Of course your first real kiss would be tainted by a skxawng with a cut on his lip, that you had just spent time trying to heal. 
When both of you had caught your breath, Neteyam’s eyes met yours, and he smiled at you. You already thought his smile was blinding, but now, you swore you could see the stars reflected in his wide grin. You couldn’t help but smile in return, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips. 
“You skxawng,” you breathed. “I just fixed that cut.”
Again, Neteyam closed the distance between you, hands gripping beneath your thighs to draw you into his lap, where you wrapped your legs around his waist and draped your arms over his shoulders. As you rested there, safe and warm within his grasp, your gaze meeting his, Neteyam let loose a deep, weighted sigh. And again, his hand came up to rest against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking against your lower lip. 
He shrugged, grinning still. 
“I don’t care.”
And for the second time that evening, with bated breath, Neteyam closed the short distance between you and brought his lips to yours.
This time, you had the upper hand. This time, he angled his head to parallel with your own, allowing the kiss to instantly deepen. This time, his hands gripped and massaged at the skin of your thighs, coaxing a sigh from your lips that met with his own heavy breathing in a tangle of knotted air. 
This time, instead of the bitter salve, all you could taste, all you could feel was him. 
He tasted sweet, and minty, with a salty edge that reminded you of the ocean. And while his lower lip had been marred by a deep cut - which you would be thanking Ao’nung for later - the rest of his lips were plump and soft and perfect against your own. Like molten lead, or a pair of pearls fused together with time, his lips against yours matched like two pieces of the same cloth.
And slowly, a knot began to grow within you, deep within your core, that had you positively certain you couldn’t get enough of him. 
Neteyam couldn’t get enough of you either. When your small, soft hands scratched against his chest, he let out a low moan that he was positive he’d never made before, and he grabbed at you with a force like he was going to sink you into his skin and never let you go, like he couldn’t exist without you.
And maybe, in truth, he could, but as you pushed from his lap and grabbed him by the neck, pushing him against the mat beneath you in a furious tangle of teeth, lips, and limbs, Neteyam was absolutely certain that while he could live without you, he definitely didn’t want to. 
It was there, on the floor of your marui, that you stayed with him until eclipse had long passed. Until your lips had become bone dry, and his cut had come open again. Until all the breath had sucked from your lungs, in a way you’d never felt before in all your years mastering breathing where there was no air. 
It was there that Jake and your father found you both, dead asleep, tangled up together and splayed out on your mat. A blanket covered you, and one arm was wound around Neteyam’s chest, your legs wound between his.
Jake hadn’t seen Neteyam sleep this peacefully in years - not since Lo’ak had started walking. 
His eyes met your father’s, and they shared a knowing grin, before backing out of the marui to meet with Neytiri and Kxali on the edge of the village. Neither of them had the heart to interrupt the two sleeping teenagers, and both of them seemed to have a deep understanding that while the two of you had grown up apart, now, you had found each other. Now, you had found a small slice of peace, and though they didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of the mischief you two would get up to together, it paled in comparison to the thought of forcing you two apart. 
Neither Jake nor Elpawe were going to let that happen. 
Of course, Lo’ak took the mickey out of Neteyam when he returned to his family’s marui the next morning. The Mighty Warrior had spent all night, tangled up with a girl? In Lo’ak’s eyes, Neteyam deserved some teasing. 
Neteyam took it well as always, shoving Lo’ak gently by the chest, playfully grinning as Lo’ak shoved him right back, sending Neteyam stumbling over the marui’s edge and right into you. 
You caught him by his arms, steadying him. 
Seeing Lo’ak behind him grinning like the devil, and surrounded by his family, you tilted your head and gestured towards Neytiri and Jake. 
“I see you,” you spoke, bringing your finger from your forehead towards Neteyam’s parents. 
They nodded, returning the favor, and you did not particularly like the knowing grin on Jake’s face, or the steam that seemed to be coming from Neytiri’s ears at the sight of her oldest son with a stranger from another clan. But when Jake placed a hand on Neytiri’s knee, she softened, and smiled up at Neteyam.
“Go,” she said, “And be back before eclipse this time, please.”
Neteyam nodded, not speaking, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. Chuckles arose from his siblings, and you could hear the entire family dissolve into laughter as Neteyam tugged you by the hand towards the beach. 
When you reached the shoreline, plopping down into the sand, Neteyam sitting next to you, you finally let loose the laughter you’d been holding in. 
Your head tilted back, you let out a loud, barking laugh, shaking your head, and looked to Neteyam.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, in between a fit of giggles. “I’m so sorry.”
The way he was looking at you, brows quirked, studying you again, made you remember that first day on the rock, when you had studied him the same way as if you were committing his features to memory. You didn’t realize of course, that Neteyam actually was committing your bright smile and the sound of your laugh to memory, somewhere deep in his mind where he would never forget it. 
And then he smiled, and laughed with you, and tackled you into the sand, sending you both into another fit of howling laughter. 
When he pulled back, only for a moment, he smiled down at you, and waited for you to smile in return, before connecting his lips with yours. This kiss was new, and different - passionate, tender, and slow, his lips seemed to dance with yours. Not only that, but he brought one leg between your own, the other pressed firmly into the sand beneath you, and his entire upper body seemed fused with yours in a perfect molding of skin against skin, like roots digging beneath the earth. 
Again, you found peace within each other’s touch. The world around you disappeared until it was just you and Neteyam. Even the sand beneath you faded away, and all you could feel was his chest pressed to yours, and his hands gripping at your waist and your thighs and anywhere he could easily reach. You were certain he was going to leave bruises behind where his fingers dug into your skin, but if you were positive of one thing, it was that you didn’t mind. 
If you could have one wish, if Eywa could grant you one thing, it was that you could stay here forever with him on the warm sand, tangled up in his arms, his braids tickling against your cheeks, his smile mirroring yours when he pulled away, breathless and sighing. 
When he did pull away to breathe, you didn’t let him stay apart from you for very long. 
In the same way he’d grasped at you like you were a lifeline, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled him back into you, reconnecting your lips in a flurry of motion, and wound your legs around his hips, giving him access to the soft skin of your thighs. 
And if you were feeling particularly bold, you’d grasp him with your legs and tackle him into the sand, pinning him beneath you in a wild spray of hair and limbs and breathless laughter. 
There you’d stay for as long as you could, hands against his chest and lips fused together like iron, his own palms exploring places they hadn’t before, running up and down your back, and your thighs, and the roundness of your bum, squeezing and grasping at any soft parts of your skin that he could reach. 
You’d let him, sighing breathlessly against his lips. And sometimes, you’d pull him into a sitting position, grabbing at the nape of his neck. The more you started to explore each other, the more you discovered things you liked about his supple skin, and the more marks he left on your own, in the soft spots where your neck met your shoulder. You too left a few marks of your own, in little scratches on his back, or in the equally buttery soft skin of his neck and shoulders. The more marks you left behind, the more beautiful noises you coaxed from his lips, and the more you enjoyed peppering his skin with brands claiming him as yours.
Days, and weeks, and months passed like this, in a beautiful blur of young love. 
Neither of you planned for Neteyam to leave you behind. 
And what was worse, you hadn’t even been there when it happened. You were there for his funeral, off somewhere in the water as Jake and Neytiri laid him to rest with your ancestors. As Lo’ak and Payakan swam by, brother with brother. When Jake and Neytiri went to the Spirit Tree, you followed them, tucking yourself deep into the branches where they couldn’t see you, and connecting your queue to one of the glowing palms.
When Jake found you on the beach a few days later, crying into your hands, he had plopped down in the sand next to you in a manner eerily similar to Neteyam. 
When he’d wrapped an arm around you, bringing you into his chest, he told you - and only you - what he’d seen in the visions the Spirit Tree gave him the night of Neteyam’s funeral. 
Somewhere in the middle of his story, your tears had slowed. Somewhere during his tale, you’d looked up from your hands, wiping away your tears, and leaned into his strong embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” Jake uttered in reply, squeezing you a bit tighter. “I’m sorry too. He loved you, you know.”
You nodded, sniffling. 
“I know. I loved him, too.”
Later that evening, as your mother came and kissed you goodnight, wiping away a few stray tears from your eyes, she lay next to you and sang you to sleep with the same song she’d sung during your early years. 
You’d cried in her arms for several minutes, and she’d whispered in your ear just as Neteyam had. It had only made you cry more, how little things were reminding you of him, chipping away at the gaping hole he’d left behind. 
As you finally drifted off, your mother still stroking your hair, she’d whispered to you in the silence, just as she’d done when you were a baby. 
“Hush, paysmung. Listen to the ocean,” she murmured softly. “He is in the water now. He is with you.” 
- -
You padded along the beach, one hand held above your brow to shield you from the sun, toes digging into the sand as you hopped along, jumping over shells the waves were leaving behind. The trees blew in the wind, and the waves were on your left, crashing against the sand and pulling back into the ocean. 
Your hair blew in the breeze behind you, cooling you from the warmth of the sun, and you turned, smiling, to watch as Neteyam came jogging up to meet you. 
Oh, Neteyam. 
He was even more stunning in your dreams, if it were even possible, and his effervescent smile still had the power to make you smile in return. 
He came running up to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest, lifting you off your feet and spinning you in circles. Making you smile, and laugh, your head ducking into his shoulder as your long hair tangled with his braids. 
When he set you back on your feet, the both of you slightly dizzy, you smiled up at him, your arms still wound around his neck. His arms were still tightly around your waist, strong and muscular, pressing you flush against him. 
One of his hands released a braid from where it had stayed tangled in your long, wavy hair, but while one of his arms stayed wrapped around you, his free hand came to rest softly against your cheek. 
“How’s it going, water girl?” He breathed, smiling. 
Suddenly, a great sadness overcame you, and even in your dreams you felt a lump rise up in your throat, constricting you. 
“My Neteyam,” you croaked. “Why did you have to leave?”
“Ah, water girl,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes, and brought his forehead to yours, your breathing tangling together as a few stray tears escaped down your cheeks. When your eyes finally opened, tears were spilling down his cheeks too, and you brought your thumbs to swipe them away.
You were allowed to cry - Neteyam was not. 
“It’s okay,” you gasped. “I’ll be okay.”
Neteyam smiled sadly at you, brushing your hair from your face. The both of you could tell you didn’t quite believe your own words. 
“I know. I know you’ll be okay, water girl.”
He brought his lips to yours, pressing them together in slow, tender circles. A breeze blew through, sending your hair blowing wildly behind you, the beads of Neteyam’s braids clicking against each other in the wind. And still, you did not break apart for as long as you could bear, only separating from him when the both of you could no longer breathe. 
Once again, he brought his forehead to yours. 
“I can’t stay,” he murmured. “You have to wake up soon.”
Your chest started feeling as if it was going to cave in, and a panic rose up within you like a great wave. 
“No,” you choked out. “I don’t want to, I don’t want you to go.”
“I know.” 
Neteyam ran his thumb across your cheeks, swiping away another wave of tears from your skin. 
“I know, my love.”
A great wave crashed from behind him, splashing up against your calves, tangling you in the water. 
“It’s time,” Neteyam sighed. 
“No,” you protested. “No.”
You grabbed onto him as tightly as you could, digging your face into his shoulder and pulling him into you. 
“Please don’t leave me,” you cried between sobs, “Please. I don’t want you to leave.”
“I know. But it’s time. The ocean is calling,” Neteyam said as he separated from you, holding both of your hands in his. 
Another great wave crashed onto the shore, rising up around you and pulling Neteyam from your grasp. 
“Neteyam, no!”
Neteyam looked out at the ocean, and turned back to you, a bright smile once again adorning his beautiful features. He reached for you, your fingers barely touching his, the ocean rising and pulling the two of you apart. 
“Don’t worry, my love. I’m with you.”
As he swam off into the water, you watched him until he was a small speck on the horizon. It was only then that he turned, and waved at you in a silent goodbye. 
As you waved back, the ocean swelled around you, wrapping you in a tight embrace that smelled distinctly like him.
Don’t worry, water girl. I’m never very far. 
- -
ow this horted
thank you for reading 
xoxo, carrie
918 notes · View notes
dpr-stay · 9 months
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Love Lost! | LN4
Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: A little bit of the feels, jealous!Lando, hurt/comfort, happy ending, a little bit of drunken confessions but not really, childhood bestfriends to lovers bcs i love that trope.
WC: ~3.2K
Hiya, it's been a few weeks. I've been really busy and kinda lost my inspo to write, so this is me dipping my toe back in. Hopefully it's ok. NOT EDITED (not much has changed huh)
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There comes a point in every young person's life where they must look back at what they have done and realise how they could’ve done it greater. Done it faster. Done it kinder. Done it better. Whether it be a choice, an action, or some words, reflection and acknowledgement are key milestones in the development of a person's life.
Lando has had many of these moments. Such as when he had first set foot in a kart, he should’ve done it earlier. His debut season, he should’ve done it better. His schooling, he should’ve put more effort in. The realization of his feelings for his childhood best-friend, he should’ve done it faster.
It was all he could think as his eyes caught you at the bar with some random nobody leaning over your side, obviously trying to chat you up. He took a sip of his surprisingly bitter drink as he watched. The drink shouldn’t have been bitter, it was some fruity cocktail he’d bought for you before you’d arrived, but the look you were giving the guy who you were talking to certainly made it so.
The tightening of his chest went unaddressed as his first clenched around the glass stem, his mind begging to ignore the way your smile had shifted from the fake one you gave to creeps to one not dissimilar from the way you smiled at him. An elbow jolted into his side, causing his eyes to draw away from the bar, though his mind remained around 15 feet away.
One of his mates, some guy he’d met a week ago who wasn’t after his money but wouldn’t say no to sixteen free drinks, looked at him concerned. Atleast Lando thought the look was concerned, he couldn’t exactly tell as the guy's face was hidden behind a pair of douchey shades. He shouldn’t think that though, he probably owned at least ten pairs that looked the exact same.
The guy moved his head again in a silent gesture and Lando nodded, hiding his suffering behind the pretense of not stopping this guy from getting laid, returning the silent gesture. He then shrugged before moving on, quickly running up to a group of girls and placing his arms around the shoulders of two, leaving Lando to continue stewing.
Really, it wasn’t stewing. He had no reason to ‘stew’. He’d only discovered he’d felt this way recently, he hadn’t been silently grudging for years. However, as his eyes moved back to the bar and watched as the guy's hand slid from your shoulder to your back, he could definitely feel the pot boiling over within him. 
You hadn’t moved though, there was no indication that you were uncomfortable from your body language, so Lando had to accept that he wasn’t able to intervene. He trusted you as much as he liked you unfortunately, so he knew that you’d walk away or even signal if you didn’t like where this was going. He couldn’t rush in and be a knight in shining armour if there was no damsel in distress, no matter how much he hated it.
He slid down in his seat, trying not to appear too stalkerish to any people at the club as he watched the two of you interact. Last thing he wanted was rumors of him being a voyeur spreading around the media. It wouldn’t be too far off with the way the guy you were talking to was going. His hand was still sliding lower, moving from your mid back all the way down till it met the seat of the chair.
Lando could hardly hear the music pumping through the club, only focused on your body language. One slight flinch or look of discomfort and Lando would take that as his cue to storm over and create such a row that he would be heard in Azerbaijan. 
However, you didn’t move away. Lando could only watch as you adjusted in your seat, letting the guy's hand slide under your behind. You definitely didn’t need any help. The drink tasted almost acidic when Lando next took a sip, forcing himself to turn away from the bar. He came here for a good time, he didn’t need to see you getting it on.
He cleared his throat, though no one could hear him and no one had even paid attention to him in an hour. A quick glance around the club confirmed this, people engaged with their own activities while he was sat, watching someone he was in love with get hit on.
That’s not pathetic, is it? Lando thought it would be more pathetic if he acted on his impulses, walked over and stopped the random guy in his tracks. You’d probably be mad (would you?) and he didn’t think he could deal with it. Especially after watching what was happening in front of him.
I mean, you’d definitely been mad at him before, knowing a person for over a decade does that to someone, but he didn’t know how mad you would be. He’d never been in this situation before, one where he had to put his drink down and sit on his hands to stop them from punching the guy in the face. 
The fact that this was one hundred percent not healthy was all that Lando could think. He shouldn’t be putting himself through this, watching someone else touch you how you wanted to be touched. How he wanted to touch you.
God, he should leave. There was no point in staying here just to torture himself. He was a voyeur, not a sadist. He took a breath before chugging the drink you had insisted you couldn’t have because you wanted to pay for your own and then standing up and lumbering his way to the exit.
Doing the responsible thing, he arranged for an uber as he walked down the corridor to the door. The fresh air that greeted him sent a wave of feeling down his spine. He walked further away from the cue to get into the club, praying that no one would recognise him as he walked.
Luckily, no one did. Lando didn’t know if this made him feel better or worse.
It’s a funny thing, that. Lando normally liked being in the spotlight. Maybe it was growing up always being unwittingly compared to others, but he liked being special. Even in times Lando didn’t want to be recognised, because he truly didn’t at the moment, he still craved that little serotonin boost whenever someone would turn to him with stars in their eyes. 
It felt nice to be revered, nice to be seen as greater, all those things he didn’t consider himself. You’d always provided that for him. He didn’t want to come off as shallow or as a user, but your everlasting presence in his life, your consistent praise, had always made him feel good. 
God, that did make him come off as shallow. It went without saying, he thought, that he always tried to return the favour. The way you always smiled bashfully in response to his compliments always made his day brighter. 
He almost swore out loud into the empty street as he walked. He should’ve realised earlier. He’d never taken himself as the boy-next-door type, mostly because he was always someplace else, but the idea of domesticity with a person who he’d always been around, especially since it was you, made him feel incredibly warm inside. 
A warmth he doesn’t feel often. It had only come around a few times in his life, but the most notable would’ve had to have been around two weeks earlier. He was just lying in bed, you on the phone rambling about whatever you were now interested in.
Every one of his responses were some variation of “yeh” but that didn’t stop you. Eventually you’d tired yourself out and Lando had finally got a word in. He’d made some tired quip about you “never shutting up”. You’d responded in like, a joke about him not being able to keep up. You’d gone back and forth with your banter before eventually you’d both called it quits and said goodnight. 
Lando hadn’t even registered the fact he was about to say “I love you” as a sign-off before you’d hung up on him until the quiet beeping of his phone sounded. That had made him really, truly think about your years-long friendship, pondering about whether he had meant that platonically or romantically.
It hadn’t taken long for him to figure it out. After ten minutes an itching had settled in his mind that he should call you back and force you to continue talking. He missed your voice, even if it was you ranting about something he had no idea about. Even the thought of it had inspired a familiar warm feeling to bloom within him.
The warm feeling had still been present in the club, even if it was accompanied by the crushing weight of feeling mediocre. Lando almost scoffed at himself as he mindlessly kicked a rock as he walked. 
His earlier thoughts ran through his mind, cursing himself for thinking it pathetic to try and stand up for his own feelings. He should’ve said something at any point. Now you were probably dancing with the guy, ignoring the fact that Lando wasn’t even in the club.
That wasn’t true, of course. You were too kind. Something that Lando had always appreciated but made it incredibly hard in situations such as this one. The buzzing of his phone alerted him to this, a single text from you reading ‘Where r u?’
Completely inconspicuous but oh so characteristic. The shorthand made it clear you were busy, you were never one for abbreviations, but Lando refused to think about what you were busy with. He didn’t think you were ‘easy’, god no he wasn’t an ass, but he’d never seen you click so fast with someone to the point that you’d let them put their hands on you like that.
Lando didn’t know how to respond, instead checking the time on the Uber. There was no way that many people were getting Uber’s that it was a twenty minute wait. He could only sigh before scrolling back to your text. 
An answer that properly conveyed his dilemma evaded him, so he just replied with a ‘Going home’ before quickly tacking on a ‘Have fun :)’ because he felt it was rude not to. After hitting send, he put his phone in his pocket before leaning against the wall of the building closest to him, staring straight into the night sky. 
He’d only have a few minutes of respite before a familiar call of his name sounded in his ears. His head swung down out of shock, watching your hasty figure make your way towards him. You were swaying on the heels you were regretting wearing, your purse having your essentials halfway out of it.
“What the hell, man?” You asked as you stumbled closer, the drink you’d bought yourself making your already unsteady steps seem as though you’d fall over if you went too close to a crack in the pavement. 
He could only look on in incredulity as you stopped in front of him, one of your hands reaching for his arm to balance yourself. He quickly reacted, sweeping you into his side, before turning his head to look at you.
“I thought you were going to stay back.” His voice had a tone of question to it and you shook your head, swaying violently side from side as you moved it.
“No, I came with you. Gonna leave with you too.” Your words were mumbled as you spoke them, the drowsiness you felt becoming incredibly apparent. Lando tried not to react, though he found it incredibly hard. The knowledge that you’d never even planned to leave with anyone but him reassured him. The feeling he got from that reassurance made him slightly uncomfortable. As much as it made him regretful that he didn’t act earlier, no one owned you and you could do whatever you liked.
The words you spoke awoke a feeling that had been increasing ever since that phone call, the previous events of the night also hadn’t done it any favours. That feeling was protectiveness. 
“Would you like me to take you home?” He asked and you nodded against his side. He held you there while you swayed, thinking over what the feeling coursing through his veins entailed. Was it right to feel protective over something that definitely wasn’t yours?
Lando was left to ponder this as you both waited for the cab. He didn’t know if that question explicitly applied to this situation. Maybe you weren’t each others in a relationship sense, but you were definitely each others in a friendship sense. Hell, he’d consider himself yours in any circumstance. He just didn’t know if you thought the same.
As the Uber pulled up the curb, Lando walked you both over. Quickly opening the door and guiding you in, he then rushed to the other side and got in the car. He gave the driver the address of your house before leaning back into his seat.
It took approximately five seconds after the car had started that your head fell on his shoulder. He froze, not daring to move a muscle in fear that he would disrupt your sleep. A quick glance down out of the corner of his eyes showed that you actually weren’t asleep, you were staring up at him. Your eyes looked as though they were shining as they stared at him, and he couldn’t help the heat rushing to his cheeks
Your expression looked starstruck, as though you’d never seen him before. He quickly tapped your shoulder in a silent ‘you okay?’ gesture. You didn’t respond, causing him to look down and look at you.
Unknowingly, he had positioned you at eye level with each other. He could feel the breaths escaping your lips as you breathed out, the closeness a feeling he decided he would cherish because of the highly unlikely chance of ever feeling it again.
Or he could call it, lean in and deal with the repercussions. He was tempted, of course, it would be such an easy way to just rip the bandaid off. He wouldn’t have to deal with a confession or the rejection. He could just lean in for a few seconds then open the door of the Uber and roll out, never having to see you again to face the rejection he could sense. 
After a few seconds he pulled the plug, deciding that the longer he held his head so close to yours, the creepier it came off. Neither of you talked the rest of the journey, relying on the old tunes of Oasis that the driver decided to put on.
Eventually, you arrived at your address. One look at Lando convinced him to walk you inside. He’d call another Uber, regardless of wait times.
You opened the door to your building, holding it open for Lando which he acknowledged with a smirk. You just rolled your eyes, the moment from the Uber well and truly passed. Regardless, you both moved to your elevator, moving in as you clicked the button of your floor. 
There wasn’t many people around, it was too late, so it was just you and Lando in the elevator. A space that would normally be full of conversation was unusually quiet. 
Lando knew why he was quiet, he was recalling the moment in the Uber, slightly mourning what could’ve happened if only he was braver. He didn’t know why you were quiet, probably thinking about how weird he was acting.
But, frankly, the night was almost over. Just another couple of minutes and Lando could start the journey home, able to think over how that man had touched you and how he would never be able to do that. He should definitely try to move on. It would be too uncomfortable to spend a long amount of time secretly loving his best friend.
The lift dinged and you both walked over, moving side by side down the corridor till you eventually reached your door. You both paused outside your door. You didn’t make any move to grab your key and instead just looked at Lando, an unfamiliar look on your face. You almost seemed resigned. Lando didn’t know why.
You then sighed before moving to your purse, rummaging for a second before pulling out your key. A quick turn and your door was open. You turned back to Lando, a small smile on your lips.
“Goodnight Lando.” You said sweetly and Lando returned the gesture quietly, pulling you in for a small hug. After you separated, you seemed to hesitate for a second before shaking your head and going inside. Lando watched you close the door and heard it click before he called out one last ‘goodbye’.
Except the words that left his lips were not ‘goodbye’. They were ‘love you’. Completely unconscious slip of the tongue but it resulted in Lando completely freezing. How the hell had he done that?
He couldn’t hear any footsteps from your side of the door and Lando was left gaping as he processed what he said and the fact that you definitely heard. It was way past the time to say it was an accident when he regained any sort of agency.
He immediately turned away from your door, poised as though to make a getaway. However, the sound of your door opening stopped him. Oh god, how was he going to write this off.
He slowly turned, making eye contact with you as you stood in the doorway of your apartment. Your expression was more shocked than blank, but it was definitely on the border. He could see the question in your face, but he could only respond with his completely gobsmacked expression.
He didn’t know what you took this to mean, but you smiled. A bright smile. A smile more radiant than any one he’d seen you give the man from the bar. It took you a second to gather your thoughts to speak, he could see you formulating something to say in your mind.
“I love you too.” Was your response and if Lando’s jaw could drop further, it did. He was not expecting any of this. If he were to confess his feelings, he thought there would’ve been a lot more of his tears involved and a lot more planning. However, here you were, shyly returning his feelings. A smile that matched your own spread across his face and you giggled at his reaction.
“Really?” He asked dumbly, something you’d tease him about later. You nodded.
It took him less than two seconds to cross from where he was standing awkwardly in the corridor to your door frame, and it took him even less time to kiss you.
And, for once, Lando felt relieved that he didn’t do anything a different way.
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hope you likey
417 notes · View notes
shomixremix · 2 months
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HOT SPRINGS OF INAZUMA ♥︎
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this was inspired by @captainfia 's absolutely amazing art of itto in the bath. wrote this in one go, that's how great the fanart is. thank you for giving me what to write for this wonderful sweet himbo <3
can you tell itto is my favorite
tags: arataki itto, female!reader, fluff, slight angst, smut, sex in a hot spring, established relationship (kinda??), jealousy, mentions of an arranged marriage, forbidden love
-> you decide to unwind after a rough day in the nearby hot spring, only to be met with someone already hogging it - a very large, very handsome, very demon someone.
reqs open!! | minors DNI
dressed in a silk kimono and nothing else, you make your way to the hot spring not far from your house. there is not one but two neatly folded towels in your arms, one significantly larger than the other. even though you couldn't be certain, the smirk on your lips was already anticipating the feeling of a much larger body behind you.
the smirk curls into a full-blown grin as you realize your intuition was right yet again; the big, burly body you knew every crevice and curve of stretched lazily in the bath. you set the towels down on a nearby rock, slipping out your wooden sandals.
you can't help but be in awe of the man, no matter how many times you've seen and felt him before. the red marks adorning his body that you were so familiar with and sometimes oh so desperately traced on your pillow to try and feel him closer never failed to make your lower stomach swirl with arousal. always forgetting your lover was a mythical animalistic being, and therefore, had a very sharp sense of smell.
"fuuuccckkk..." he groaned out as he threw his head back, "don't just stare, love bug, get in here"
you smile at the little petname the demon used, eager hands running down to untie your kimono and let it ruffle against your feet. as soon as it was discarded of your body, you dip your toes in the hot water hesitantly.
it was an understatement to say you had fully expected him to pull you in playfully by your feet, rough-housing you until you were maneuvered onto his lap. yet, the oni does nothing of the sort, his head continuing to hang back in what you assumed was pleasure and tiredness.
you step in further, letting your thighs be submerged by the hot water. only then does he notice your existence, eager, crimson eyes watching you as you float closer to him. 'like an angel', he thinks.
"you're early" slips off your tongue, a loving smile on your face as you look at the oni in front of you. his face stretches out in a toothy grin, a soft blush in his cheeks under the moonlight.
"what's wrong, itto? that excited to see me?" you tease through a chuckle, tempting him as you very slowly move through the water.
"you know i always am, sweets", he teases back, a hint of hunger in the way he's looking at you. however, you also notice a gleam of something that wasn't an ever-present look on his handsome face - exhaustion. the kind which you've only seen from very overworked soldiers and generals.
"you okay, arataki? you look tired"
to your surprise, he doesn't answer the question, submerging deeper into the water until only his chest and head were left uncovered. you make your way over to him, sitting down in his lap, your legs wrapped around each one of his meaty thighs.
"hm? what's wrong, itto?" you repeat your question as your fingers run through his mane, yet to no avail - the oni's arms run to grab your hips, pulling you even closer.
"nothin', baby, everything's just fine. just... tired, a bit."
"aww, my poor oni..." you coo softly as you kiss his neck, trying to further relax your lover, "did the arataki gang stumble into some monsters? is that why you're tired, love?"
he grumbles something incoherently, his claws digging in the softness of your waist and hips. the big, rough-looking demon turns into mush as you kiss him, dishing out quiet praises into your ear.
"mmph, love bug, so good.. so freakin' good to me, baby... missed ya', missed ya' a lot.."
"aww, missed you too, itto!" your final kiss is pressed onto the point where his neck meets his chest, where you nuzzle you head and still. however, your rest is far from guaranteed - you know damn well not a single one of your hot-spring dates could end without itto letting you ride him.
so, just like every other time, the demon pulls you in closer, letting your softness brush lightly over his shaft under the water's surface. you giggle at the all familiar feeling, slowly sinking down on him, just how he likes. just how you like, too.
"ohhh, itto..." you moan into the night. even after so many times and so many nights stolen and spent here, with him, you weren't used to his size. it took a bit of a struggle and one sharp thrust of his hips, but soon you were fully seated on the oni.
much to your dismay, your lover didn't thrust his hips into yours and bury his head into your chest, as always. no, this time he simply laid back, head thrown back as his forearms rested on the hot spring's edges.
your instincts tell you something is wrong - the usually bubbly, excited, restless oni was now slumped and without energy, not even caring for the fact that he was inside you, that he was wrapped in your velvety warmth. your palm reaches to touch his neck, slowly tracing the big, red markings down his torso.
"anything i can do to help, itto?" you ask unsurely. you weren't used to being the one carrying the conversations between the two of you - his much more extroverted personality took care of that. yet, he remained quiet. too quiet.
"jus' stay like that for a lil' while, sweets, hmm?" he mumbled, enjoying the warmth of his bath.
"i brought all kinds of soaps and oils.." you hum, a hand running through his mane, "would you like me to help you wash off, oni?"
arataki only nods, letting out a large sigh as you shift a bit on his lap so you could grab the toiletries. his sigh turns into a groan as soon as your hands meet his body again, massaging every defined muscle with a mixture of dendrobium oil and sakura petals. his eyes never shift towards your body, head thrown back from the pleasure.
now that he was completely cleaned of any musk from a hard day's work - aka running around and playing adventurers with the gang - his usual self still hasn't emerged, making your eyebrows scrunch in worry.
he wasn't very willing to talk, you knew. yet you needed a way to make him feel even an ounce better.
your own neediness and the fact that itto never once before denied your pleasure made you roll your hips to his, earning a slight groan from him. that only encouraged you more, rolling your hips again, and again, and again...
"shiiittt, sweets.." he howled, his tense muscles relaxing into your touches. how you loved every curve of that enormous body... your hands go over his pillow-y pecs, across his defined abs that always make you drool and all the way down to his belly button and the little happy trail that, indeed, made you very happy. your roll your hips again, desperate for his attention. the warmth of the bath wasn't enough - you needed the warmth of the oni.
as he gets more desperate, his grip on your hips becomes tighter and tighter. you know he's close to snapping, his hips shallowly thrusting into your warmth. to get him to loosen up completely, you lay your body forward, nuzzling your face into his neck, right under his ear.
"itto.." you breathe into him, "fuck me. please. i've looked forward to this all day..."
no matter how tired, those weren't words any oni could ignore - let alone an oni desperately in love. in cruel, tangled, messy love.
"fuck, baby..." he groans, giving you a rough thrust, "missed ya' too.."
his pace picks up and suddenly, he's hunched forward, handsome face nestled in the crook of your neck, big, beefy biceps wrapped around your waist. his sharp fangs grazed your skin, always careful not to leave a mark.
"don't.. hah.." the usually over-confident itto hesitated. he hesitated!
"don't go, baby, yeah? lemme bring you to the gang, you know everyone loves ya', they'll be more than.. fuck! more than excited to see i finally brought ya' home"
the look in your eyes changes from one of pure arousal to a saddened one, your hand running to cradle his cheek.
"you know i can't, arataki.." you coo, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "i'd love to, i'd love to stay in a tent with you forever, but..."
there was no need to finish that sentence. itto knew well why you couldn't - that, however, didn't make it any easier.
"yeah, yeah, i know" he grumbled, obviously saddened himself.
"'ts not fair! i see ya' maybe once a week, love bug, it's drivin' me fuckin' crazy!"
you hug him tight as he continues pounding into you, each word followed by an upset, feverish thrust.
"i know, it hurts me too, love.. i miss you every day, more than you know.. i miss you, and your arms, and your body, and your horns, and-"
"and being bounced like this in my lap, yeah? that what you miss the most, sweets?" he teases through a smirk, grabbing on to you almost possesively.
you laugh sweetly, pressing a kiss to his temple. "i do, i really do. but that's not what i miss the most. you, all of you, are what i miss the most"
suddenly, you let out a sigh, struggling to say your next words. "you know, that commissioner recently came to ask for my hand..."
you could practically hear his heart breaking as his thrusts slowed.
"oh, uh.." he cleared his throat, trying to mask his sadness, "congrats, love bug. you'll..." he swallows hard, his words physically hurting him.
"you'll be sucha good wife"
but not his wife, like you wanted to be. that thought was breaking your heart into a cajilion pieces.
"itto, i- i don't want to stop seeing you..." you choke out, "you know i'd go with you if i could"
"so then go with me!" he almost growls, a hint of irritation and fear in his voice. "come home with me, baby, i'll marry ya' instead. i'll let ya' pick out wherever to live and i'll give ya' as many little oni's as you'd like. hell, sweets, i'll retire from the gang if that's what you ask-"
you shut him up with a bittersweet kiss, tears streaming down your face as you're being bounced in his lap.
"i can't!" you cry, "i can't and it's killing me! i want that too, itto, i wanna run away and stay with you! but i can't, i can't and i'm gonna go crazy if we stop seeing each other because of my future husband!"
once again buried in your shoulder, itto continues rocking into you and groans. he's hiding your face, and you know why - he doesn't want you to see just how devastated he is.
"fuck, never gonna stop seein' ya', love bug.. never... and don't even give a fuck that you'll have to explain to your fuckin' husband why all your babies have horns, why each and every one of 'em looks nothin' like him..."
you laugh at his statement. you want to reply something, but all that comes out of your mouth is a moan of his name.
"yeah, that's right.. that's right, fuck, baby, yeah? not his name, yeah? not on his lap, not his face buried in these pretty tits, not coming around his dick, hm? yeah, yeah!"
you can do nothing but nod your head in agreement, way too absorbed by euphoria to form words.
"that's it, that's it sweets, yeah? 'ts okay, 'ts okay, baby, come. fuck, come around my dick, will ya'? come on your oni, make sure they all know that a demon fucked ya', that a demon none of them would get even close to stuffed ya' full, hm? wanna have you dripping at the thought of me as you marry him, yeah?"
you could hear the jealousy practically dripping from his words as he lost himself in his thrusts, hips eagerly chasing his high. you obey his command, reaching your peak and collapsing on his chest as you ride the waves of pleasure. the smell of sakura petals from his skin hits your nose, and suddenly, you never want to leave his perfectly, inescapably safe touches.
"ooohhh, fuckkkkk, baby..." he groans as he finally finds his release, shallowly thrusting into you as rope after rope of warmth fill your insides. after a few moments he stills, arms wrapped tightly around you.
you stay in his embrace the rest of the night, letting him peck at the skin of your shoulders and neck while you gently bite his beefy body. not a word was said, both of you far too afraid to speak. this might have been the last time you ever see each other, and neither of you wanted to ruin the comfortable afterglow of your love-making.
soon, the time of your return comes and you have to unwillingly unglue yourself from his arms. you get out of the spring, dressing back into your robe as you hand him a towel, your legs still slightly wobbly.
"goodbye, my oni" you say shakily, pressing a feathery kiss right above his lips.
"see you next week in here, sweets" he says, but he can't be certain of that - he can't be certain he'll ever see you again.
"yeah," you whisper, eyes full of tears, "see you, itto"
you turn around, leaving back to your estate with waterfalls of tears pouring down your cheeks. you could still faintly feel your grip on him as you lie alone in your bed, only the image of his crimson eyes and white mane running through your mind.
your oni. the man you love. the man who loves you, endlessly.
the demon you can't be with. because demons and pretty commissioner's daughters didn't go together in inazuma.
you sigh as you look out your window, your view spreading to the yashiori island, knowing your love was somewhere out there, asleep under the stars, probably dreaming of you. tears fill your eyes once more as you look around your room, the supplies you collected over the past few weeks lying readily.
soon, you'd escape, and run away to itto. you weren't giving up on him, and you begged all seven archons for him not to give up on you, too.
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http-finnick · 1 year
Text
𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 - 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫
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finnick odair x fem!reader
summary: as finnick sneaks back into your cart during the victory tour, you start to pity him as he wraps his arms around you, knowing that this is all for the captiol and none of it is true...at least not for you.
cw: almost one-sided love, katniss and peeta trope, no smut, and lots of crying.
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with how the trains speeds you feel as tho you're flying, laying in your bed with the new weather outside your window. yesterday it was snowing, now it's spring.
the silk bedsheets mold your skin as you lay there, regretful.
a hand snakes under and up to your abdomen, the scent of musk heavy on your nostrils as he pushes himself closer to your back.
he sighs once he has your touch back into his grip and you stay put, hoping he falls back to sleep.
it was a mistake, letting him back into your bed again.
it wasn't like you two did anything..it's just for the nightmares. but still.
he thumbs your shoulder softly, brushing the finger on your body to test your awareness, you feel his eyes on your neck.
once he gets no indication of your conciseness, he dips down to lay a soft, quick kiss on your neck.
it makes you shiver, a little fever sparking in your spine for that moment. it wasn't forced for his own excitement, it was a little good morning for you.
and that just makes it worse.
you pretend to flutter your eyes and he quickly sinks back into the silk sheets. you sit up and drowsily grab a towel before walking towards the bathroom that's connected to your cart.
you eye him as you take tip-toe steps, as if not to wake him. but you catch his lips flashing a soft smile before forcing down into a line.
you sprint into the bathroom and turn on the shower as you feel your chest heavy with breaths. you lock the door and sink down as you choke on air and have tears rush out of your eyes
he loves you
he loves you so much.
your mind brings you back to Annies sobs and pleas for you to return finnick to her, safely. to bring her love back.
I wonder how she felt seeing you brush his hair back in the arena before dipping down to kiss his puffy lips.
I wonder how she felt when 'her love' came home with a new love.
you confessed to him on the train that it was a lie. your love wasn't real and you watched him fight back tears while putting on a sad smile
"it's okay, really"
that's what he told you when you turned to look back out the window of the train car. you knew it wasn't your place but your cloudy mind thought it was a good idea
"fin...um...Annie was talking to me before the games and-"
"please. I don't want to hear anything about annie cresta."
so you both sat in silence as the train brought you back to four.
and now, on your victory tour with the capitol and everyone breathing down your neck, you realize that you will never have a life without odair being next to it.
you can't help but claw at your chest with sobs as the shower spits water at you, because finnick takes this as a chance, a chance for you to love him.
but you would never give yourself that chance
not with that promise you gave to annie.
and not with that vow you gave to yourself.
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an: I might do a part 2 for this, katniss and peeta trope is such a good one I just had to make some angst for it. I hope that you guys liked it even though its short :( I'm sorry I cant do super super long ones, I just write when I can and post right after lmao. Also my babies!!! We got to 70 followers! I love you guys so much, when I started this acc I didn't think anyone would still be around for thg content, but you guys came through and made me love the fandom even more...I love you guys so much! mwah!
part 2
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