#Fic writers my beloved

[smolvenger]

Loki Fandom utterly in tears and devastated:

Fic Writers:

#Fic writers my beloved #Loki #Loki series #Loki McU #mcu Loki #Loki fandom #fanfiction #Tom hiddleston #loki tv show #Loki Fanfiction #Loki Spoilers

[ladyjune]

What do you mean there’s not a fic for this specific couple and specific situation I imagined in my head?

#hyperfixating on a dead fandom my arch enemy #fandom #adhd probs #fic writers my beloved

[bastardnoodle]

i looove putting them in little outfits

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #nicholas d wolfwood #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #milly thompson #trigun fanart #pspspsps my cherished and beloved fic writers i'm on my knees BEGGING for more modern au fics

[malsorie]

i was waiting for a ship in BG3 to sweep me off my feet until i read @optiwashere’s Minthara x Lae’zel propaganda (their fics) and fell VICTIM. so i drew a little scene from this fic 🤕🤕

#featuring Hooked Nose Minthara my beloved… #lae’zel #minthara #minthara baenre #minthara x lae'zel #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #art #my lawful evil wives #this is a PSA to all fic writers pls write more lae’zel getting dicked down by minthara #I’m so Serious #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[milkpup]

✧ ns/fw alphabet: choso ✧

@ puffer1111 on twitter

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› choso x 18+f!reader

‹𝟹 tags: switch!choso, switch!reader, choso is a perv tbh

‹𝟹 notes: thought i'd make a lil smthn smthn while it's still valentine's day <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

›› still sticky from the mess both of you made, choso prefers to cuddle you for a long time, skin to skin. he likes to feel your warmth when he spoons you (although he does like to be little spoon sometimes too!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

›› he likes his hands the most. he definitely knows how to maneuver his fingers with precise motions. he knows what he's doing

›› he thinks it'd be cruel to pick just one part of your body that is his favorite, when everything about you is his favorite. so he would say all. but if you kept bugging him about it, he'd confess it's ur thighs. he definitely likes laying his head in ur lap and taking naps, or just squishing them <33

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

›› he thinks cum swapping is hot tbh. sometimes he tells you to not swallow all of it so he can kiss you after. (bonus: just likes fluids like cum + spit teehee). also loves cumming inside you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

›› he has stolen your used panties before and used them. multiple times. in multiple ways. you thought the washing machine just magically ate them, but no, choso is a little pervert

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

›› although he's always been a lil freaky, he doesn't actually have much experience outside of your relationship. you kind of woke something in him tho. at first you had to teach him, but they always say the student surpasses the teacher :3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

›› mating press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

›› he can be both. sometimes you can see the super concentrated look on his face, but usually he's really laid back and in tune with yours and his emotions / feelings. if something funny happens (like a queef) he will laugh. but so do you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

›› he does what you like tbh. (this is not a cop out answer he just thinks since ur the one down there that u should tell him what to do)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

›› he's so fkn cute fr. he loves holding your hand in whatever position you're in, intertwining his fingers with yours. he definitely whimpers and says "i love you" like a million times in a session

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

›› aside from the used panties stuff, he tries to limit the solo stuff. he'd rather save his loads for you than waste it in his hands. but on the off chance he does feel the urge, he's either using something of yours or watching the many videos you two made together

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

›› mommy kink frfr. he loves calling you mommy. and although he is a switch and does like to dom, nothing beats being taken care of by his mommy <3

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

›› literally anywhere. he will do it anywhere he doesn't even care. choso thinks semi public stuff is fun, like the forest or beach.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

›› anything to do with you. looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, thinking about you, literally anything.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

›› he couldn't do any pain towards you or even that much from you. choso would be fine w/ a light slap or spank, but nothing too rough ><

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

›› absolutely loves eating you out. he is a certified munch every day of the week. he could do only that and still feel satisfied. (he definitely jerks himself during that or dry humps the bed)

›› he loves you throat fucking him, but not as much as your cunt. he'd rather use that

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

›› both :3 starts out pretty slow and rhythmic but as he feels himself approach his orgasm he starts erratically and frantically fucking into you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

›› it's alright, but he prefers longer sessions and would rather wait until you have a few hours alone

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

›› he will try anything you suggest to him. anything you are curious about he's instantly the #1 fan of

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

›› multiple rounds, an hour at least. he likes to switch up positions and take breaks with foreplay and toys to extend the fun time tbh

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

›› loves being leashed and collared by you. but also the same to him. he uses whatever you want, vibrators, dildos, plugs, etc on you. he sees it as a great way to have more fun

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

›› he prefers being teased more. he likes you bullying him

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

›› this man WHIMPERS a lot. such a slutty yet angelic sound tho tbh. he's loud, vocal, and likes to talk

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

›› too scared to ask you to wear thigh highs and let him thigh fuck you but he drools thinking abt it

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

›› 5 in soft, 7.5 in hard. cut, slightly curved, pale base like #FFF1E4, gradient towards the tip which is much redder like #FFD3CA, fluid #FEFEFE, slightly salty

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

›› as much as he can do it. he's a horndog fr. multiple times a day at least. but he always respects when you tell him no ^_^

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

›› near instantly. the post-sex cuddling almost always ends with him snoring within minutes :3

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @navi-n0 @starshipxoxo @comicalgrievance

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

#choso kamo #choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso jjk #choso my beloved #choso jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x fem!reader #ns/fw alphabet #ao3 writer #ao3 fic #jjk fic #jjk drabble

[all-or-nothing-baby]

sometimes, it dawns on me just how incredibly happy i am that fanfic exists as a medium. like, the amount of experiences had—excitement and thrills and tears and joy, and more, that writers of fic can give to so, so many people—is immeasurable; it's wonderful.

and just... what an amazing thought, you know? in a world where we are all struggling to get by, to recognise this beautiful thing we've created? knowing that we're all sharing in taking some sort of pleasure or lesson or comfort etc from reading and/or writing it?

i think that's really, really special.

#fic #fanfic #writers of fic #readers of fic #fanfiction #ao3 #my beloved <3 #destiel #sterek #pynch #hannigram #geraskier #harringrove #fratt #cherik #johnlock #sheriarty #stucky #the unholy trinity #symbrok #merthur #and everybody else's ships :)

[cloudcountry]

shortcake!

Genre/Tropes: Height differences (short reader.)

Summary: for this short, i think it'd be funny if the reader needed to get something from a high shelf and climbed up to get it. his reaction to that can be whatever, it'd be funny if he scolded the reader for not going to him cause he's such a big, tall eel and more safe than stacked stools

Author's Comments: Floyd has definitely balanced on at least ten stools for fun. His record is ten. He's tried to add more and has fallen over.

~~~~~

Floyd was used to doing things other people disapproved of. He was used to being on the receiving end of scolding and accusatory expressions that he found rather boring. You seemed to be his only refuge, his tiny little Shrimpy that understood how he operated. You were funny and adorable, but sometimes you even gave Floyd a run for his chaotically earned money.

“Shrimpyyy, what are you doing on the counter?” he huffed, wrapping his hands around your waist and taking you down with ease, “It’s dangerous up there. You wouldn’t want to slip and hit your head, now would you?”

“Floyd, I was trying to get something! Jade said he needed flour for his cream of mushroom soup so I went to get it for him.” you squirmed, pouting up at him when he didn’t set you on the ground.

He looked up at the cabinets as you dangled in the air, humming thoughtfully.

“Sneaky Jade.” he giggled, pulling you into his chest with too little effort, “Shrimpy, come get me next time, okay? Jade must have put the flour up high to mess with you.”

“Of course he did.” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around his waist, “And here I was looking forward to the octopus dish he promised me.”

“Aww, a little Shrimpy like you wants to eat an octopus?” he laughed, easily grabbing the flour for you, “You’re so devious for such a tiny little thing!”

“I wasn’t gonna eat it in front of Azul! I’m not like you guys!” you huffed, jabbing him in the ribs, “But thank you for grabbing me the flour. I appreciate it.”

“Next time you need something, come get me. I’ll get it for you! You have a big strong eel right here, Shrimpy.” Floyd smiled, revealing his menacing sharp teeth.

“Uh huh. I don’t get to climb stools but you do.” you faked a dramatic sigh before pressing a grateful kiss to his cheek, “Because that’s fair.”

“Shrimpyyyy, you don’t understand. You can climb on me.” he giggled, setting you on the counter so he could pinch your cheeks, “I’m wayyyy more fun than some stools! I can sway and jump and swing you around!”

“Floyd...how is that any more safe than stacking stools on top of one another?” you laughed, staring up at your delighted boyfriend lovingly.

“It’s safe because it’s me. Duh.” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’d never let you fall. Ya think wood is gonna hold you better than me?”

“No, of course not.” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his middle, “I should really get back to Jade now, though.”

“Awww, you’re gonna leave?” he huffed, throwing his arms around you and nuzzling the top of your head affectionately, “But I don’t want you to.”

“Floyd, I pinky promise I’ll hang out with you after I give Jade this flour.” you said, holding out your pinky as you pulled away.

“Fine.” he grumbled, hooking his pinky with yours.

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him forward, giving him a gentle forehead kiss before you hopped off the counter.

“I’ll be right back.” you smiled up at him, clutching the flour to your chest.

“You better be.” Floyd pouted, waving his pinky in the air, “You promised.”

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #short reader #as a tall fanfiction writer whenever i write for short readers im like 👁️ #i should write more tall reader content #tall reader content is very rare #octavinelle my beloveds

[angelteyam]

Water Girl (n.s.)

(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

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam my beloved #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x metkayina!reader #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar wow #avatar writer #avatar film #pandora #jake sully #neytiri #loak #loak sully #kiri sully #kiri avatar #neteyam avatar #neteyam angst #neteyam atwow #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #tukitrey

[quartzalynlove]

Spidey Sense

Pairing: hobie brown x Fem! Reader

Summary: hobie shows up at your place

A/n: I don't think this is my best but I need this man biblically.

Was this finals week or your final week? You couldn't remember the last time you didn't have fun on a weekend. All you did once school let out on Friday was work through review packets given by your teachers. Currently, you were halfway through the chemistry papers.

It was Sunday afternoon and there was still plenty of work to do. Time for a break was yet to be seen on the horizon. Your brain was on autopilot as your hand absently scribbled across the paper and words slightly blurred as they reached your eyes. A band of tension was tight around your head; you knew a break was probably in order, but you couldn't take one. Not yet.

The chemistry packet was finally finished, and the history one began. By this point your eyelids were heavy while your brain struggled to stay on task. With a sigh, you hunched over your desk and inspected the first question harder, as if that would make it easier to work.

After a while, you finally got the first question. But before you could start the next one, you saw the bright sunlight shining in your room become partially blocked from your peripheral vision. You brushed it off, assuming it was only a plane or something until knuckles rapped against your window. With your attention caught, you whipped your head around to see Spider-Man holding a brown paper bag while crouched on the fire escape.

Confused, you finally left your chair to open your window, but not giving Hobie access inside.

Hobie looked at both of your hands pressed against the sides of your window then back at you.

"You gon' let me in, babe?"

With your lips pressed together, you shook your head. "Come back in like an hour thirty, Hobie."

The eyes of Hobie's mask squinted as he look around in feigned thought.

"But like what if I come in now?"

"I'm almost done with my work," you sighed. "We can do whatever after that."

"You still workin' on that?" He asked, tilting his head.

Another sigh left you as you brought a hand to your forehead, attempting to ease your growing headache.

"Yeah." You answered quietly.

Hobie didn't just swing by because he felt like it, even if he was missing hanging out with you all weekend. Ever since Friday, he had an odd feeling crawling over his skin that he couldn't shake. At first, he suspected it had something to do with President Osborne and his regime, but after some investigation Hobie found the dictator was still hiding after their last battle. It wasn't until he made his rounds through the city, and stopped a mugging close to your apartment, that Hobie realized. The crawling vibrated right through him, and it was all coming from you.

"Got a headache?" Hobie asked.

You kept your eyes squeezed shut. "Yeah."

"That the same shirt you took from my place Friday?" He looked at you in the distressed, blue sleeveless t-shirt that he knew was his.

"Maybe." You fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"You eat anything since lunch yesterday?"

You fell silent for a moment as you looked at Hobie; you could see his dumb smile under his mask.

"Thought so."

Coming through the opening you made when your hand left the window, Hobie held the bag he had in front of you. You took it as he entered further into your room and removed his mask. Inside was your regular order from the local deli and a bottle of water. Hobie smirked as he heard the bag crinkle when you plunged your hand inside. He was at your desk looking over the absurd amount of work that you had been doing.

"History and trig? Baby, I could do this." Hobie offered, turning to you.

Shaking your head, you tried to get down the giant bite of sandwich you took. "No, I need to do those to pass my finals."

Hobie didn't listen, taking your pencil and scrawling through a few questions on the packets.

"The education system is just twelve years of teaching children how to conform to society and not question authority." He shrugged.

You laughed slightly at Hobie as you made your way next to him. As you leaned against Hobie, you took your pencil out of his hand and looked up at him.

"Yeah, but, I still wanna go to college."

Hobie hummed, nodding his head, "Hm...and I want that too because you want it," he brought his index finger to his chin as he took a brief thought. "Take a break, then."

With the smile on his face, you knew Hobie's idea of a break for you was cuddling and ignoring both of your responsibilities. While it didn't sound like a terrible idea, your first final was tomorrow. You could take a break when the work was finished.

You linked your arm around Hobie's. "Baby, thank you for the sandwich, but I swear, I'm almost done then we can do whatever you want."

With furrowed brows, Hobie brought his free hand over his chest. "This ain't 'bout me, babe, I said you need a break."

Before you could attempt to shoo him off again, Hobie made his argument for why he should stay.

"Ever since Friday, I've had the most bonkers feeling that I just couldn't figure out. But I was swingin' round here earlier when it hit me. You aren't taking proper care of yourself."

You looked up at Hobie with a puzzled look as a small laugh left your throat. "So you got spidey sense about me?"

Hobie shrugged. "Guess so."

"I didn't think it worked like that." You smirked.

"I ain't got Scooby-Doo."

You let go of Hobie and looked up into his eyes. "Well, if the spidey sense says I need a break, I guess these last two packets can wait."

As you took another bit of your sandwich, Hobie kissed your forehead.

#spiderman into the verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie my beloved #spider punk #spider punk across the spiderverse #black reader #poc friendly #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfic #hobie brown fic #comfort #fluff #hobie brown fluff #black writers #fanfic #across the spiderverse fluff #writeblr #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #black characters

[downbadf0rficppl]

i didn't mean to love you so much

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: You don't know what you have until it's gone. Or is it?

Word Count: 6.0K

Repost

It took 3 days to arrive on D'Qar.

The Naboo N-1 Starfighter that you stole from the junkyard on Bracca was one wrong move away from falling out of the sky. Even with your constant mid-flight repairs, only prayers to the Maker were keeping her together. The BB unit you found kept you posted with constant, and frankly worrying, updates on how the ship was holding. Let's just say the plane was soon to be out of use.

When you entered the atmosphere in D'Qar, the landing gear erupted into flames, eliciting a series of explicit beeps from the BB unit. If not for the life-or-death in front of you, you would have burst into a fit of giggles.

Instead, you just grit your teeth: "Happy beeps, bud."

You and the BB unit left the carnage that used to be a starfighter flaming in the trees, bickering the whole time, and heading towards the Resistance Base. Towards new beginnings. Towards freedom.

Bracca was a junkyard, where scavengers and smugglers looked for parts to sell to the highest bidder. It was dark and dangerous at the best of times, and work was never-ending. It wasn't the kind of place you would want to grow up, but it was better than Kessel. Anything was better than Kessel.

It took a week to get to the Rebel base. Your head throbbed painfully with each passing day, with hardly any food in your system and little water to quench your thirst, the journey to salvation seemed almost unattainable. You had thanked the Maker for rain when it first came, but after 4 days of non-stop rain, you had cursed the skies for it. It only seemed to fall harder.

By day 5, the BB unit was running out of power, its movements slower than before. It was far too heavy for you to carry and without it, you would never reach the Resistance base. There were no sarcastic quips or complaints for its master anymore. No, the two of you traveled in silence, aside from the odd groan from either one of you. Its tiredness mimicked your own. You could only pray that the base would come into view soon. You weren't sure how much longer you would last.

When the planes came into view, you almost cried with joy. With newfound energy, you and the BB unit near-ran the way to the tarmac runway that signaled life on this dratted planet.

And while the BB unit was welcomed with cheers and open arms, you weren't so lucky.

You were marched to the medical bay by two men almost twice your size, flanked on the left and the right so you couldn't run if you tried. Your heartbeat in your throat. Of course, the resistance had to be careful, but surely this was excessive.

After you received treatment for your assortment of cuts and burns, you were delivered to a small room, adorned with only a bed and curtains to block out the light. Before you could say anything, let alone protest, the doors shut, leaving you alone in a small cell deep in the heart of the Resistance base.

As terrifying as the whole situation was, when you laid your head to rest on the bed in the dingy room, sleep came. It beat thorns and nettles on the forest floor of D'Qar. It beat sitting upright for 3 days, trying to avoid meteors and Tie Fighters. It beat restless nights on Bracca, hoping to gather enough for a meal. Sleep came to you better than it ever had before, and you reveled in it.

You woke up to familiar beeping outside the large metal door.

"BB-3?" Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The beeping got louder, almost unbearably loud, "Calm down, bud. I don't know how to open the door."

"Step back." A male voice came from behind the door, startling you. You stumbled backward, falling on the floor as the whooshed open. A tall man stood there, and if he were surprised you were on the floor, he didn't show it.

You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust off your clothes as BB-3 rolled in, circling around you like a vulture would his prey. The man stood there observing you and the droid got reacquainted, before clearing his throat.

"Vice Admiral Holdo would like to speak with you." His tone was authoritative. You didn't want to be on his bad side. He led you toward an office on the opposite side of the building, your legs shaking as you walked. He shot you a pitying glance as BB-3 followed at your heels, before returning his face to its emotionless expression. You hated it.

It must have been early, as only a few people were up, and those who were seemed to want to rather be asleep. But no one batted an eye your way, despite the grime you still felt clinging to your face, and the ripped clothes you were wearing. You wondered if this was normal to them. People coming home grimy, hurt, and disgusting.

Only one man seemed to notice you on your journey.

"Snap!" A voice called out to you. The man in front of you - presumably Snap - broke into a huge grin. "Long time, no see, buddy!" Snap clapped the other man on the back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

You stood there as the other man regaled the story of whatever mission he'd been on to Snap, and for a moment, you thought you were forgotten.

Until he turned. His eyes seemed to scorch your soul with their searching gaze. It was heavy, but you felt safe under it. Almost as if you knew that he would do nothing to hurt you.

"Heard all about how this one came in yesterday." He stretched out his hand, "Captain Poe Dameron. Pleasure to meet you."

You shook his hand and returned the favour, telling you his name. He tested it on his tongue, repeating a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, Poe turned back to Snap.

"How come you got stuck on babysitting duty?" He asked, mirth dancing in his eyes. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes or butt in - you wanted these people to like you. Sarcasm could be saved for later.

"Kid brought back my droid."

"BB-8 told me the story. Something about running from a resistance fighter, blowing up a depot train," you kick BB-3 gently, "and exploding an N-1. It was impossible. Maybe you should get your droid checked for gossiping?" Snap punched him in the arm, "Hey, it was just a suggestion." Poe grinned widely, "Oh, and the shootout. How could I forget the shootout?"

"It wasn't a shootout." You slapped your hand to your mouth. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. So much for saving the sarcasm for later.

Poe turns to look at you. "Oh?" his grin infuriatingly wide. "That's not what the droid said."

"It wasn't a shootout, we were shot at." Your confidence floods back into you. "And the depot train wasn't us. Wrong place, wrong time. Am I right, bud?" You glare down at the BB-unit.

He mumbles something about ruining a good story before whirring off to stop behind Snap. Stupid BB-unit.

"Guess you're more interesting than I gave you credit for kid." Snap stepped towards you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "The name's Temmin, Temmin Wexley. But everyone calls me Snap."

"Pleasure to meet you Snap," you echo Poe's words from earlier.

Your meeting with the Vice Admiral went well. She believed your story, well corroborated by both BB-3 and the bounty on your head placed by a well-meaning neighbour. She cleared you to start training with the resistance, though you surprised both her and Snap when you asked to be a mechanic.

Though when you started working on ships, it was clear to see why. It was almost like there was a secret language that ships spoke that only you seemed to understand. You scoffed at that. Beginner's luck you called it. Still, there was no denying that you loved working on the ships and that you were good at it too.

Months went by and you settled into the routines of the Resistance. You were given a room closer to the other mechanics, who, despite the constant tension of competition, seemed to like you well enough. You often sat with them for meals, although passing up on opportunities to spend more time with them. They seemed content with that. You got used to the early morning wake-up calls when the sun streamed through the window and urgent repairs needed to be made. You learned to enjoy the quiet evenings when everyone else had closed up shop and you could finetune repairs for those who needed it. You finally felt like you had a purpose. It was freeing.

Snap kept you up-to-date on the comings and goings of the First Order - never in much detail of course, but enough to satiate your desire to know more. In return you smuggled him extra jogan fruitcake when it was served while he was away. Sometimes, in thanks for saving your life, you made extra updates and repairs to his X-Wing when he came back from long missions - more often than not to save his those extra hours of tedious work.

Black Squadron had come home after a week long mission the night before. You had worked late into the night the day before, and you were now regretting it. Blue squadron had come into contact with a few Tie Fighters on night patrol, and the damage was hair-pullingly extensive. You were in for a long day. It didn't help that you could barely keep your eyes open, hands glued to a cup of Caf that was doing little for the tiredness clouding your brain. You didn't even notice Snap come storming in.

"WHO WORKED ON MY SHIP LAST NIGHT?" He yelled over all the mechanics. Shit.

You had done some basic repairs for him the evening before last and had spent the better part of last night finishing up repairs and repainting his ship. You knew how pilots were with ship paint. Maker, you were screwed.

After a few moments of silence, you decided it was better to own up than let everyone suffer. "I did, Wexley."

He slowly turned towards you, before grabbing you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting your feet off the ground. You were shocked. He was happy - no, elated. The rest of the mechanics, equally as confused as you, turned back to their work, ignoring the scene in front of them.

He still had you gripped tightly when Poe walked in. "Easy tiger, you'll kill the greenie. What did she do to deserve your wrath?"

"My wrath?! No, no, no, Poe. This kid is my new favorite person on base."

"I'll try not to take offense to that," Poe grumbled jokingly, "What did she do to deserve such high praise then?"

"Have you seen my ship? She's beautiful, more beautiful than Jess that one time." He started, about to regale a story, you did not need to know. You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"My sentiment exactly," Poe said to you, giving you a fist bump before walking over to Snap's X-Wing, closely followed by Snap himself. You trailed behind them, still unsure of what was going on. Poe dragged his finger across the paintwork, "He has a point though. I've never seen Snap's X-Wing look this good." Poe turned towards you, his warm brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Good job, Greenie."

You smiled gently, before turning away. It was high praise from Captain Poe Dameron, flyboy of the resistance.

"Maybe I'll snap her up, you know, give her a real ship to work on?" Poe said, his flirting tone making an odd double entendre that made your face light up in flames.

"Not a chance. Kid, you're my new mechanic. Officially."

"What if I don't want to be?" You countered, your sarcastic tone making both Snap and Poe burst into laughter.

You accepted the role though. There was no world in which you didn't. You enjoyed the perks of being Snap's favored Mechanic - you could sleep in more often, you were privy to more information than the average mechanic. He would tell you if he was to leave the base soon, you were often told just how bad a situation was. Snap trusted you. And if Snap did, so did the others.

'The others' being the other pilots on Black Squadron: Jessika Pava, Karé Kun, L'ulo L'ampar. And of course, Poe Dameron. It was almost like you couldn't escape him. His infectious laugh, his boyish grin, his boisterous personality. His ability to make even the most mundane task into a story for the ages.

No wonder he was so popular.

You began to sit with them in the cantina and you frequently ended up leading the repairs on Black Squadron, no one else being as trusted as you. You opened up to them slowly, telling them about growing up on Kessel and being brought to the Scrapper’s guild on Kessel. You told them the truth about your escape - Poe ended up on the floor laughing, saying “the real story’s so much better, BB-3”. They found out about your impeccable aim after a fun night in the cantina that ended in a tense game of holodarts. They became your family - more of a family you had ever had in your life.

And while, you saw Snap, L’ulo and Karé as your brothers, you could not say the same for Poe. Poe was a flirt, everyone knew that. But as you got closer and closer, it was harder to ignore the way you're heart sped up when he looked at you. How you're palms grew clammy when he smiled in your direction. How his praises and compliments made your knees weak. God you were in love with him.

You knew that half the women on the base had either slept with him or wanted to, and yet not one of them got even a second of his time. None of them except you. Poe would walk you to your room in the evening, and to the cantina in the morning, regaling stories of his adventures before he knew you. He’d bring you caf when you were working late, and sit under the stars with you at the end of a long day. He’d tell you stories of Yavin 4 and his mother. He showed you the ring that hung on the end of his necklace. 

“I want to give it to the one, you know?”

“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Captain.”

He groaned, “Don’t rank me.” You just smiled.

“So, no lucky lady in your life, Dameron?”

“No lucky man in yours, greenie?” 

You scoffed, “If there was ever a chance, they’ve all been scared away by you.”

“Good.”

You laughed it off, but inside your guts twisted at the idea that Poe was happy you were single. Your insides warmed at the idea that he might just feel the same. 

The next morning, you walked out of your room to the sight of Poe sneaking out of the room opposite yours. Half-naked. His eyes widened at the sight of you, and your hand quickly hid your eyes from the view. Your heart dropped. He lied to you. 

Poe sought you out later on in the day. He came up behind you on the landing deck, with a cool glass of jogan juice in hand. You had stripped out of your mechanics jumsuit, the arms tied loosely around your waist. Your tank top was almost a shade darker with the sweat of exertion and ridiculous heat. And yet you declined it, your face barely concealing your childlike annoyance. You knew it was stupid. You and Poe were barely friends, let alone anything that would justify your anger.

“I’m sorry.” Poe huffed, still standing underneath you in the beating sunshine. You were surprised: Poe Dameron never apologises.

“For what?” You said, your back still facing him. He sighed - he didn’t like it when anyone was annoyed at him. Least of all you.

“For this morning.”

“Why does it matter, Poe? You can sleep with who you want to.” You said, anger colouring your voice.

“It matters,” he yells, “because it upset you. Because, for whatever reason, the idea of me sleeping with other people, made you mad at me.”

His obliviousness tugged at your heartstrings, as if to say ‘he doesn’t feel the same’.“I’m not mad that you’re sleeping with other people.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“Because you lied to me, Poe.” You say, dropping down from the ladder, sweat dripping down your back. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You said there was no one special in your life.”

“There isn’t.” You raise a brow, before grabbing the glass of jogan juice from his hand. “Just because we had fun for a night, doesn’t mean I’m getting down on one knee.”

“I think you’ve done it enough times for that to be proven, Poe.”

His cheeky smile returned, “Glad we’re back on first name terms.”

You shook your head at him, “For the record, if I ever catch you sneaking out of a room in my wing again, I’ll skin you myself.”

“If you catch me you say? Well, I like myself a challenge.” You slap him on the head, before climbing back up the ladder.

“Leave me alone, Poe. I don’t need your love troubles plaguing my every hour.”

“There’s no place for things like love in the middle of a war, greenie. First thing you learn in a place like this.”

If he hadn’t been walking away, he would have heard your heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't love him.

Instead of wallowing in undeserving heartache like an idiot, you forced yourself to forget all about the way Poe made your heart feel. He became just another friend, pushed so far into the friendzone that was no conceivable way out. To his credit, you didn’t hear of another escapade of his again. He probably just got good at hiding them.

That always got difficult when he was sent on week-long missions. Your heart would migrate into your throat and even swallowing became difficult. Your mind would swim with worry, all for him to come back completely fine, his ship always seemed to come home the least scathed. A fact for which your heart was grateful.

"Hey, flyboy," you called, as you walked into the cantina. There were less than 10 people in the whole room - probably due to the ungodly hour of the day.

Poe was sat in the corner, the light of his datapad shining on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was unusually disheveled, which could only mean one thing. He was nervous.

You walked up to him. Evidently, he hadn't heard you from across the room, because when you came up to him and rested your hand on his shoulder, he flinched and grabbed your hand. You winced at his tight grip as he turned to face you.

Poe released your hand when he saw it was you. He leaned back into your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gently.

You grabbed the datapad from his hands, and placed it face down on the table, "It's ok. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

You absent-mindedly run your hands through his hair as his head remained leaned against your chest. "It's not nothing. Is it a mission? You're leaving again soon?"

He hummed in agreement.

"You're leaving today, aren't you? That's why you're up early."

"Why do you think Snap got you to wake up early? You're not just a sight for sore eyes, you know."

His words made you blush. Never have you been more glad that he isn't staring right at you - it would give your heart’s deepest darkest desires away. 

He left that afternoon. After you completed routine checks for him, he was off on a top-secret adventure. Sometimes, it was easy to hate his rank, because it made it so hard to find out where he was, or what he was doing. But as always, you let him go and, as always, you prayed he'd come home safe. To you. You always pray he comes home safe to you.

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. And while it wasn't unheard of for Poe to be gone this long, your heart could barely take him being gone for a day. That's the price of being in love. You'd never thought of yourself as still being in love with Poe until he left on that mission. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still raced when he talked to you. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still ached when he left for missions. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still burst when he smiled at you. But without him there, it's like your heart could not find a reason for beating. 

You continued on with your job, trudging through daily repairs and meals, trying to keep your mind away from Poe. You forced a smile when you talked to Snap - missing Poe hit him just as hard as it hit you. You forced a smile when you taught new recruits - you couldn't afford to have them hate you just because the Captain was missing. You forced a smile when you came down for dinner - there was no use in moping around in the middle of a war. But when you were in the comfort of your own room, you let the smile fall and the tears drip down your face. You cried almost every night for the first week that he was gone, trying to reconcile your newly found feelings and your newly lost friend.

It was a surprise to everyone when Poe crash-landed back on D'Qar with burns and cuts littering his body. You were up at an extremely early hour as working on Snap's ship when he landed, and you were immediately filled with concern. A tight knot wound its way around your throat, as you watched the scene unfold. BB-8 was nowhere to be seen. The ship is smoking dangerously, and parts of it are falling off, but most worrying of all, Poe was struggling to get out of the cockpit. You quickly threw yourself onto the X-Wing, hitting the emergency ejection latch with the spanner in your hand. The cockpit lid flew open and Poe climbed out, coughing heavily and clutching his side.  Snap came running out of the base, and grabbed Poe's arm. You ran up and grabbed the other, and the two of you dragged him towards the med wing. 

Two nurses snapped him up, cleaning his wounds and applying bacta spray where necessary. Snap turned away, mumbling something about an early morning briefing, but you stayed rooted to the spot. You couldn't take your eyes off his broken state, and tears slipped out of your eyes before you could control them. After a beat, you spun around on your heel and sprinted to your room. 

When the door clanged shut, you slumped onto the floor and burst into tears. You couldn't bear to see Poe in pain. You hated yourself for not being strong enough to fight through your tears to be with him. And you hated yourself for still being in love with him, when you promised you would be. When your datapad lit up with tasks for the day, you made the rash decision to call in sick. In the time you had been on the base, you had never called in sick. This job was your lifeline, your passion, and nothing, not even illness, would affect that. At least, that's what you had thought. You spent the majority of the week in that same spot, tears subsiding when you became so dehydrated that your body refused to let you cry.

On the fifth day of your hibernation, you finally left your room, having showered and gotten ready. Few people were on the base, apart from the mechanics and medics, and the injured - which included Poe. Given the lack of a real threat in the vicinity, General Leia had given the day off. You didn’t want to relax. You couldn’t relax.

You snuck over to where Poe’s beat up X-Wing was parked, and the sight of it almost made you tear up. The memories hit you like a brick. Poe barely limping towards the med wing. BB-8 being carried to the droid repair room. Fire extinguishers coating the X-Wing with hopes that it may be able to fly again. You got to work.

You were finally satisfied as the sun set over the vast treescape of D'Qar, covered head to toe in oil and grease. After some gentle coaxing by Paige - the only one aware of your all-consuming feelings for Poe - you agreed to grab something small to eat with her.

What you didn't sign up for was to see a broken and battered Poe sitting at the table, laughing at some stupid joke that Snap had probably made. He looked up as you walked in, almost as if he was expecting you. His eyes met yours, and you felt the tight knot in your throat begin to form again - just as it had the morning Poe crash-landed on the base.

Poe tried to lift his arm up to wave but winced at the action, the stitches keeping his wounds bound together stretching at the extreme action. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, willing the Maker to take your tears away. Paige handed you a bottle of water, before leading you toward the table. She left you standing in front of the table, where you awkwardly shifted your feet.

"Gonna sit down?" Snap asked, mirth dancing behind his eyes, "Or are you planning to put on a show? Wouldn't put it past you to have hidden another talent."

You smiled weakly, sitting down next to Jess and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle you had been given. Jess leaned over and whispered gently, "Feeling ok? Paige came up to ask if you were ok when you didn't show up at drills this morning."

"Yeah, felt a bit under the weather after morning rounds."

"Probably the shitty sleep you've been getting worrying about this guy." Karé said, pointing his knife at Poe.

Poe looked at you, his eyes wide, but you tried to brush off Karé's words, sarcastically replying, "Oh please Karé, the only thing you're worried about is whether or not they have that drink that you like from Sorgan, which is disgusting by the way - I don't know how you can drink it."

Everyone laughs as Karé splutters about how delicious spotchka is, the anxiousness wracking your body easing its reins slightly. Under the table, you feel Poe's foot nudge yours gently. You smile lightly at him, careful not to let him have a good look at your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. As much as it shouldn't matter, you don't want him to know how much you care.

"You don't have to pretend you don't care for the captain, kid. You should have seen how she leaped to open the hatch Poe, something from a Naboo holodrama. Or one of those superhero films." Snap laughed, as your face burned red.

Poe raised his eyebrow, "Now that's something I would like to see. Maybe I'll get myself stuck in a cockpit again, just to see you in action." He laughs, but you don't laugh with him. You feel your chest tighten, and the knot in your throat return. Your vision clouds with tears, and you quickly got up, excusing yourself on the notion that your headache has returned, and that you should probably get some rest before drills the next day. You stumbled out of the cantina, breaking into a sprint as soon as you were out of sight. 

Poe’s eyes followed you as you left, worrying tinting his gaze. The group had fallen almost silent at your abrupt exit, looking at where you’d run, before turning back to Poe. Snap slapped the back of his head.

“Why, in the Maker’s name, would you say that?”

“What?” Poe said, rubbing the back of his head. Jess gave him a pointed look, “What did I say?”

“You joked about getting hurt, Poe! Why would you do that?”

“He didn’t just joke about getting hurt, Wex! He joked about almost dying!”

"Oh please, it's not that big of a deal. Everyone knew it was a joke. Right?" No one looks at him. "Right?!"

Jess waves at Paige, whose eyes were trained at the door. She meekly walks over, leaning down to talk to Jess. 

"Is she ok?" Paige asked, her eyes brushing over the group until they landed on Poe, "What did he do?"

Poe's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm so confused," he muttered under his breath.

"He made a joke.”

Snap butt in, “About almost dying."

Paige’s eyes widened, "You're not serious."

"Look, I don't know what's up with her today, but something tells me that that was the last thing she needed right now."

Paige turned towards Poe, "If you weren't injured right now, Captain, I would beat you up." 

"Hold up. I don't even know what I did." He said, standing up. "I get that the joke was a little misplaced, but it was a joke. I didn't put myself in this situation willingly."

"We get it, Poe. But you haven't been here. She's literally been destroyed - she's barely sleeping, I barely see her come down to eat, she spends all her time working on different ships, drowning herself in work. Today was the first day in the year she's been here that she's called in sick." Paige said, her eyes flitting between Poe and the door. She was in a half-mind to run after you, to console you. 

Poe beat her to it. He got up, ignoring the protest from his teammates, and headed towards your room. He knocked lightly on your door, hearing the gentle sobbing from your room.

His heart broke. He knocked again. 

“I’m fine Paige, I just need sleep.”

“Nice to know you’d lie to Paige.” Poe said, his voice steady and gentle. You open the door to you room, the door whooshing up to reveal Poe in all his glory, “Would you lie to your Captain?”

“Don’t pull rank with me, Poe.” You joked as he bent to meet your eyes.

He reached out to caress his fingers against your cheek and wipe away the stray tears. You leaned your head into his hands, the callouses on his hands like comfort against your cheek. He touches his forehead to your eyes, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. That this was happening. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Poe’s eyes met yours, softly searching for something. Answers, probably.

“Why are you sorry, darling?” The pet name gripped your heart, so familiar and yet so foreign. The tears begin to flow freely again. He soothed you, mindlessly carding his fingers through your hair, “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” 

You look into his eyes, and can’t help but to sob harder. Why did you have to fall in love with him?

Your head curled into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could give. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, whispering into your hair. 

“I didn’t mean to.” You said through tears. Poe looked at you.

“You didn’t mean to what, love?” He asked. You repeated it over and over, your tears soaking through his shirt. He lets you cry until your weak, pulling you further into his arms. 

He asks you again. 

“I didn’t mean to love you so much.” You confessed through whispers. It was so quiet that you thought that Poe didn’t catch what you said.

His widened eyes told you otherwise. 

“You…?”

“I love you.” You whispered.

“You-you love me?”

“I love you so much that whenever I see you my heart quickens until it’s uncomfortable.”

“Love -”

“I love you so much that my hands become so sweaty that I can barely keep a hold of my datapad.” You showed him your hands that were covered in a sheen. He gives you a watery laugh, before wiping your hands on his already soaked shirt. 

“I love you so much that when you leave, I can’t bear to survive.” 

“Love-” You interrupt him again.

“There’s no life without you, Poe.” Your voice broke as you dissolved into another bout of tears. 

“Love, please.” Poe sighed, kissing your forehead, “Please, just-”

“I know. It’s a war. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t help it. Please don’t hate me, please-”

Poe grabbed your face, pulling you into him. He grazed his lips over yours, before pulling away way to fast. 

“I could never hate you, love.”

You pull him back towards you, smashing your lips onto his. He pulls you into his lap deepening the kiss further. You run your fingers through his hair, and over where the bandages cover his fresh wounds. Poe winced, and you pulled back. 

“You should rest. And heal up.”

He looked at you with such adoration, that for a moment you thought you’d melt away. “I have the rest of forever to heal up. I want this now.”

“You have me for the rest of forever. I think you should heal up now.” He rested his forehead against yours, sighing and closing his eyes. You kissed his nose gently.

“The rest of forever is too far away.” He whispered.

“You made me wait for this long. I think you could wait for a little longer.”

“Only a little bit, love. Only for you.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. The sudden motion had you dizzy, head pounding due to the dehydration. He caught you gently, lifting you into his arms, before gently depositing you on the bed. He left light kisses on your forehead, and left with the promise of coming back with water and a little food. 

He walked out of the mechanics wing and back towards the cantina, intent on his mission to get a little food and water into you. 

The whole of black squadron watched him walk in. Poe nodded to them lightly, not knowing exactly what they had been expecting. Apparently it was enough for them, as they turned back towards each other. 

He grabbed a small muffin and a bottle of water, before heading back to your room. He walked into see you asleep on the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s beautiful. 

Poe sat down on the bed, rubbing your arm gently. You opened a bleary eye to see Poe crouched next to you, blocking the moonlight streaming in from the window. He pulled off his shirt, and lifted your head up to get you drink some water, before settling down next to you. You rested your head on his chest before falling back to sleep.

Poe moved under you, pulling his necklace from around his neck and placing it around yours. Your hand immediately migrated to the metal ring strung on the end. Poe froze. What if it’s too soon. He relaxed almost immediately, as your fist closes around his rings.

He relaxed, pushing his nose into your hair. You smiled as he whispered something that he probably only said because he thought you were asleep.

“I love you too."

fin.

buy me a coffee

#poe x reader #poe star wars #poe my beloved #bb8 #poe dameron #poe damn son #poe x y/n #poe x you #no y/n #poe dameron fluff #poe fic #poe dameron fic #oscar isaac #star wars #poe dameron x reader #fanfic #poe dameron x you #may the force be with you #may the 4th be with you #new writers on tumblr #fanfiction

[tornoleander]

I know it’s been said, but Jay’s ‘bullied for growing up in a Junkyard’ Vibes are off the charts.

Parents saying how he hates talking about being born in a junkyard.

insecurity had to of come from somewhere.

In Skybound, Nadakhan overhears Jay mentions this insecurity and uses it against him several times.

(very good villain writing I would praise if they didn’t make him the creepiest creep to ever ninjago.)

#just saying if you add this in your Fic I love you #looking at you Mondo #and Finnnnn #mmmm Jay angst writers my beloved #ninjago #ninjago skybound #oli’s skybound insanity #ninjago jay #lego ninjago #ninjago angst #ninjago nadakhan #ninjago thoughts #skybound ninjago #skybound #ninjago season 6 #ninjago season 1 #ok back to my men whimpering rewatch #Oli shrieks

[midnights-dragon]

I think Crowley would accidentally fall asleep on Aziraphale sometimes and I think that Aziraphale trying to get up and move for whatever reason would go something like this:

“Nnrgh,” Crowley protested in a low mumble as Aziraphale shifted, his grip tightening weakly around Aziraphale’s middle. “Don’ go,” he ordered bossily, his words slurred. “Warm.”

Aziraphale chucked a little despite himself, settling back down, his cheeks glowing. “I’m warm, hm?”

“Mhrm,” Crowley agreed.

“You are silly,” Aziraphale responded fondly, beginning to stroke a hand absentmindedly through Crowley’s hair without even fully registering what he was doing. The demon, still half-asleep, pressed against his touch, burying his face in Aziraphale’s chest.

“Not,” came his muffled protest. “Not ssssilly.” Crowley’s hiss was pronounced, a sign of his tiredness. “I’m evil. Very evil, me.”

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale resigned. He carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair, still smiling, surrendering himself to his fate of being a heating pad for his lovely serpent. “Very scary demon, you are.”

“Mhm,” Crowley mumbled, before curling around Aziraphale and promptly falling back to sleep, one hand hooked around the angel’s middle, his face pressed into his chest. Aziraphale looked down at him, his heart seizing, and gently hugged him close.

“You are silly,” he whispered, sparing a single kiss to the demon’s smoothed forehead. “And I love you.”

And even in his sleep, Crowley smiled as he felt the warmth of the angel’s love wrapping around him like the softest blanket, casting over him like the warmest strike of sun through clouds.

Love you too, angel.

Note: this is a full fic now!

#ineffable husbands #sleepy intimacy my beloved #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands fanfiction #gomens #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #fanfic #fanfiction #writer #crowley x aziraphale #Crowley #aziraphale

[johnslittlespoon]

plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale

gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3

john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.

so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.

john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.

he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).

so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.

he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.

the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.

a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"

laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.

it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.

gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.

"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.

gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.

john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.

he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.

he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.

he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.

it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.

#bruh this was 1.3k i did not mean to get into so much detail #the keep reading button has never been more necessary #i wish i could crank out long drabbles like this for all the asks #but they take sooo long for me to write i am NOT a fast writer lol hence why i post a fic like once a month #but sometimes certain asks just itch my brain some type of way and then boom i've thrown up onto a tumblr post #anyway dacryphilia my beloved <3 #in any other scenario john hates to see gale cry. but i think in bed he would have an affinity for making him feel so good that he cries #have i thought about this extensively? perhaps. #i just think that pretty boys with pretty eyes and pink lips deserve to cry during sex sometimes. as a treat #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #buck x bucky #buckbucky

[infinite-orangepeel]

✨STEDDIE FICLET: BOYS WILL BE BOYS

!! masturbation, general horny energy/vibe (lol), discovering sexuality !!

steve and eddie arguing over who has the bigger dick. they’re just friends. they’ve never seen each other naked.

steve and eddie getting out the ruler to compare dick sizes.

it’s a game. it’s something to play. it’s something to pass the time.

boys will be boys.

steve and eddie, joking around, fumbling to get their pants around their thighs, excited by the competitive air between them. quipping. ruffling each others feathers. making light in the dead of winter.

steve and eddie falling silent.

steve’s breath hitching.

eddie’s eyes widening.

flushed red of arousal rushing to their cheeks as everything becomes a bit too real.

steve gulping.

eddie watching the pitiful up and down movement of his adam’s apple. bobbing beautifully under all those pretty moles on his decadent throat.

eddie hardening. stiffening up rapidly because steve’s standing there—so close—squirming around and whimpering like a slut.

“it happens,” steve says as if it really does, “ ‘s nothing to be ashamed of. c’mon. i’ll measure you, if you measure me.”

eddie nodding, barking a laugh, choking on something heavy.

tonguing the sharp edge of his teeth to counteract and distract from the thrumming pleasure—the threat his hips pose to buck up into the warm grasp of steve’s hand circling around his leaking tip.

steve and eddie lining up their cocks, because it’s ‘easier to tell.’

numbers are too difficult.

numbers are useless.

why use numbers when they have four hands between them to compare and stroke over their lengths?

gentle fingers to dip down and cup each others balls like something precious to behold. tickling. smiling.

careful not to make eye contact. careful not to make it real.

steve and eddie groaning like untamed beasts when they press their aching dicks together. skin to skin.

wet. slippery. burning up with forbidden fever. the urge to close every existing gap is palpable.

so easy to break.

so easy to shatter.

“guess we’re about the same size. funny. who would’ve thought?”

eddie plays the fool. plays the whole thing off as a joke. tears his eyes away but doesn’t miss the opportunity to rub a flat palm over both of their cockheads before retreating like the coward he believes himself to be.

bashful. ashamed. terrified of the truth. terrified of the monster he is. vicious and destructive in all matters of the self.

speeding car on a dead end path.

“g-guess so. yeah. funny.”

steve’s voice is distant, murky, undone, and empty. brows furrowed. lips bitten.

he’s beautiful and strange. colored all shades of pink. hairy thighs. soft heart. golden boy.

steve and eddie zipping themselves back into their jeans. making separate excuses about this and that.

“gotta get going—”

“me too—”

“band practice—”

“dinner with robin—”

“see ya later—”

“yeah—”

steve and eddie touching themselves, alone in their rooms—later that night.

moon high. beds cold. moans hidden behind clenched fists.

steve humping his pillow.

faster, harder than he’s done in a long time. eddie’s rings and silver tongue on his mind. he’s drunk on it. dizzy and loose.

eddie fucking himself open with a toy. legs spread wide. tongue between teeth. hand on his stomach to feel the bulge where he dreams steve’s pretty cock might some day be, if he’s lucky.

steve and eddie cumming at the same time, across town, and reaching for the phone at the exact same instant.

“i need you—”

“i miss you—”

“come over—”

“i’m already on my way.”

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @mcneen @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @rugbertgoeshome @neverlandwaitingforme @anglhrts @swiss-cheeze

#steddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #fruity four #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie ao3 #steddie writers #steddie au #steddie excerpt #steddie thoughts #steddie blurb #ao3 steddie #steddie fic recs #steddie my beloved

[hood-ex]

When a fic writer responds to your long comment with an equally long message, and it's like... are we flirting right now 😏... is that what we're doing? Should I sign my next comment with "xoxo" 💋? Should we get married 😘?

#lmao i kid--i kid. i'm not That delusional #but it is fun when you freak out over their work and then they freak out over your freak out #like ahhh!! we're both freaking out man!! #no but tmnt writers--the 2k3 writers especially--are gods #mwah i kiss your fic my beloved dude

[kheyys-worms]

Plucking away at your happiness.

-

Another fic fanart, this time it's inspired by another @merakiui's masterpiece: His Blueberry Eyes 💙💙 Go check the fic out! But do read the warnings first cause, boy... ngl, this one's heavy--

#i decided to color this digitally #tried extracting the lineart but can't do anythin abt the paper texture-- so we got this instead heh #my mum said it made the drawing look gloomy. she's not wrong-- #anyway. had the idea of Azul plucking at a sunflower going like 'love me. love me not' the moment i read the 'painting the wall' scene #that's one of my favorite parts. right before things went downhill for Azul and Reader :)))) #also flower symbolism my beloved <333 a sunflower in the midst of cornflower fields... it's a lovely image #*sighs* Bless all of you fic writers for giving the most delicious of brain rots <3 #twisted wonderland #azul ashrengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #kheyy's art #why am i not drawing anything for disney 100th anniv? or for the new JP Halloween event? simply cause i got priorities ✨✨ #love me fics that can rip my heart out and scar me mentally uwu