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#Reliable Illumination
wanderguidehub · 5 months
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Unbiased Black Diamond Spot Headlamp Review
Every outdoor enthusiast knows that a good headlamp is essential to any nighttime activity – from camping to hiking to even just walking the dog after dark. As someone who’s experienced the frustration of a flimsy, unreliable headlamp, I was thrilled to try out the Black Diamond Spot Headlamp on my recent camping trip. Spoiler alert: I was thoroughly impressed. In this review, I’ll be sharing my…
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lanasblood · 1 year
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HOW DO I MAKE YOU LOVE ME | neteyam x reader
pairing: neteyam x f!omatikaya!reader (no mentions of y/n)
summary: you remember all of your attempts to make Neteyam fall in love with you, using various methods, experiencing numerous failures, and you finally come to a conclusion or the five times you failed to win neteyam’s affection and the one time you succeed.
word count: 10k (!!! damn)
warnings: actually none but let’s say hurt/comfort, reader is a simp, 5+1 prompt, confessing, mutual pining, mention of blood, requited/unrequited love, !!adult neteyam!!, flashbacks to childhood and teenager years
note: inspired by the five love languages and the weeknd’s song mentioned in the title.
* gif‘s not mine.
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The soft rustling of the teal leaves falling silently to the ground, as light as an ikran feather, is one of the most soothing sounds heard on the still night. The wind touches them gently, as if caressing them, before whirling them up again in a powerful gust, starting the cycle all over again. The moons stand high in the sky, and the stars sparkle like little gems that can beautify anything. The night is quiet, and the soft breeze seems to calm everything down and lull it into a deep sleep. The bright light of the bioluminescent plants lays gently on the moist meadows, illuminating the darkness. It is like a magical tale, perfect and without blemish. Yet, there is one who can't sleep in this harmonic time: you. With your arms and legs stretched out, you lie on your back, feeling like hours have passed since you started staring at the night sky without moving a muscle. You have even decided to sleep outside your hammock to hear and feel the sound of the wind, hoping to finally sink into the dreamland. But, as you know, this has done little to help. 
All because of him. You sigh in annoyance.
For as long as you can remember you've had this crush on the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan, you don't know when you developed it, let alone how it really started. You just know that it might have been cute at first – a nice girl from a small clan who has feelings for the older boy next door, but as time went by, it wasn't cute at all; on the contrary, it robs you of precious sleep and will most likely cause you to age prematurely. 
Despite not knowing how and when exactly this crush thing has started, you know that it has gotten worse the more time has passed, and the more time passes, the more failed attempts to get his attention you have behind you. However, there's one event you categorize as time zero - the starting point of your attempts - that you remember vividly: 
You were a mere child and couldn't take your eyes off Neteyam, who was only slightly older than you. Confidently clutching the stem of the rare flower you had been searching for days, you made your way through the lush forest, searching for Neteyam. As you thought about the plan you had concocted, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You had heard from a reliable source that Neteyam was a lover of rare flora, and you hoped that this gift would make him see you in a different light. 
When you spotted him in the distance, his tall figure was moving gracefully through the trees. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, holding out the flower to him.
"Hey, Neteyam," you said, trying to sound casual. "I found this and I thought you might like it." 
Neteyam stopped in his tracks and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. You held out the flower a bit higher, hoping to see a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.
"Thank you," he said simply, slowly taking the flower from your outstretched hand. Looking at the flower now in his hand, the corner of his lips turned upward, causing your heart to flutter.
You told him happily, "It's a very rare flower," beaming a bright smile at him. 
And the next thing you knew, you were holding your breath as he bent slightly forward to your height and patted your head in praise, "It seems you're already a careful gatherer, baby neighbor. Keep it up!"
You felt your heart sink faster than a prey could run when he turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there alone in the forest. You had hoped that your gesture would be enough to make him see you in a different light, but it seemed that it had made no difference at all, or even worse for he had called you the worst possible nickname to exist in all na'vihood. 
As you made your way back to the village, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment and frustration settling in you, the deep frown on your face mirroring your inner world. You had tried so hard to get Neteyam to notice you, but it seemed that he was simply not interested.
How do I make you love me?
After a few cycles and many more failed attempts in between, you realized that your little crush was not so little after all. Especially after Neteyam passed his Iknimaya at such a young age, your admiration for him grew every day. The feeling was almost unbearable as you found yourself constantly near him but not receiving the acknowledgment you wished for.
That was until one day, you decided to change that because your hormonal teenager brain had this glorious idea to spend some alone time with Neteyam. You had observed that he enjoyed hunting during his free time when he wasn't bound by his duties as the Olo'eyktan's firstborn. This is why you eagerly joined him on his next hunt, determined to impress him with your own hunting and tracking skills. Looking back, you now realize that your confidence may have been misplaced for your skills were basically non-existent at that time, but back then you were convinced that you were able to hunt.
So, you followed Neteyam deep into the forest, crouching right beside him in the underbrush, watching the herd of talioang grazing in the distance. Their blue and orange skin glinted in the sunlight, and you could hear the low rumble of their voices as they communicated with each other. 
"Do you thi—" Neteyam's hand swiftly covered your mouth, halting your words before they escaped, his touch gentle yet firm. It was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He motioned for you to be quiet and directed your attention towards the herd. As he removed his hand, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement in your blood. This was your chance to prove yourself.
Neteyam slowly and silently made his way towards the herd, you right on his track, moving from one piece of cover to another. Your eyes followed every movement of the muscles on his toned back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your palms were slick with sweat. Even though you had never really hunted before, you were determined to succeed but Neteyam's captivating presence proved to be a distraction that made it difficult for you to concentrate on anything else. 
As you got closer to the herd, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam signaled for you to stop, and you froze, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He reached out and brushed a twig aside at your feet.
"Watch your steps," he whispered close to your ear, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your heart raced as you realized how close he was to you, and you wondered if he could hear it pounding in your chest. Longing to feel his lips against your skin, you couldn't help but turn your head slightly towards him, but you knew you couldn't let your desire distract you from the hunt.
"I do," you whispered back. Trying to calm your racing heart, you focused on the task at hand, scanning the ground for anything else that might make noise. But when you moved, you felt Neteyam's body shift slightly against yours, sending another jolt of electricity through you, and you wondered if he felt it too.
"No, you constantly step on something," he told you, still whispering, but voice stern. 
Feeling caught because there was a high possibility that he was right for you hadn't paid attention to your surroundings in the last couple of minutes, too busy doting on him, you couldn't find arguments to defend yourself, "I do not." 
Neteyam firmly pressed his finger on his own lips, signaling you to be quiet yet again. Your heart beat faster as you met his intense gaze, and you felt a rush of desire wash over you.
"Too much noise," he mouthed, his voice barely audible, and looked back at the herd. Following his gaze, you saw that the talioang had picked up on something, and they were starting to look nervous. You and Neteyam held your breaths, waiting for the right moment to strike. 
Suddenly, Neteyam gave the signal, and sprang into action. You just weren't really ready when he gave the signal, so with the first step you took, you stumbled on something growing on the ground and fell over with a short cry. Neteyam who had darted towards the nearest talioang, already drawing his bow and arrow, stopped right in his track when he heard you fall. You looked up at him when he quickly turned to you and then back at the herd but it was too late, the animals already reared up in surprise, and scattered in all directions. However, you were too shocked by your fatal mistake to pay them any attention. You were frozen in place, lying in the dirt, watching Neteyam looking back at you with a slightly agape mouth. The blood rushed to your head and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. 
You ruined it. 
Neteyam's disappointment was tangible. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he was angry. You would be, too. Struggling to express your remorse, the words got caught in your throat as you attempted to apologize. The weight of disappointment were heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of letting him down.
After a long, awkward silence, Neteyam turned to you with a deep sigh. "You need to be more careful," he said, "When you're hunting, you have to be aware of everything around you. One mistake can ruin the whole hunt."
You nodded, feeling ashamed, you were sure your face was as purple as a yovo fruit. You had wanted to impress Neteyam, but instead you had embarrassed yourself in front of him, had blown any chance to show him that you were capable.
How do I make you fall for me?
Over time, you learned from your previous mistakes. Wanting to impress him proved to be harder than anticipated, but having a conversation with him was easier than expected. You needed to show him how much you appreciated him for who he was. As a result, you began to pay closer attention to the way he interacted with others, especially his younger brother Lo'ak, and you started to incorporate some of those phrases into your conversations with him.
One bright day, you nervously approached Neteyam, hoping to strike up a conversation with him using your newfound knowledge:
"Hey, Neteyam," you greeted tentatively, "Whatcha doin'?"
You left out the bro on purpose, fearing it would be overkill. Even so, the words coming out of your mouth sounded strange to you, and for him apparently too, as he rapidly looked up from his task upon hearing your voice, and his otherwise neutral face looked at you with a slightly frowned forehead and attentive eyes, studying you for a moment before he was quick to collect himself and greeted you with a slight smile.
"Not much. Tuk asked me to repair this old basket for her," he said, motioning with his hands on the basket between his legs, "And I'm trying." 
You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, "That's really kind of you. I bet she'll be thrilled once you finish it," you said with a smile. 
Neteyam simply hummed in response and went back to his task, his concentration returning.
"I mean, I would, too. Tuk is very lucky, it must be nice to have a brother like you," you complimented him.
"But you do have a brother," Neteyam reminded you matter-of-factly, "We used to attend the same training sessions so many times."
"Yeah," you continued, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But, uh, he is not as skilled as you are." Good save. "And he never did such kind things for me when I was little. The only thing he did was teach me how to fight." 
"That's a valuable skill," Neteyam commented.
"Well, what I mean is, he's an ordinary brother, while you are one of a kind, Neteyam. Your siblings are incredibly lucky to have you," you said, emphasizing your point.
Neteyam smiled to himself, his canines slightly showing, as he went back to working on the basket. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the thought of him noticing your flattery.
"I appreciate that," he said, acknowledging your compliment.
After a few minutes of silence, you took a deep breath and you mustered up the courage to ask him a question, "May I say something?"
He looked up at you again and nodded. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
You decided to take the chance, "I just wanted to say that you always seem to know just what to do and say, and that's very impressive. You're responsible, always respectful, and very patient. Not just with me but with everyone in our clan. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, Neteyam." I appreciate you.
Neteyam's expression softened as he listened to your words. "You have a kind heart to express that," he replied, a hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his lips.
You took a deep breath and continued, "I know you don't share much about your personal life, but if you ever feel comfortable talking about it I would love to learn more about you."
Neteyam's smile reached his eyes. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."
You felt a warm glow of happiness in your chest as you realized that your words affected him. You were willing to put in the work to get to know him better.
Encouraged by his response, you asked, "So, do you have any concrete plans after your Uniltaron?"
Neteyam's expression faltered a bit upon hearing you mention his upcoming Dream Hunt, he seemed almost reserved all of a sudden. "I do have a few, but they are personal," he replied, "I prefer to keep them to myself."
You felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh, I understand," you said, trying to hide your dejection, "I'm sorry. It was not my place to ask."
"You don't have to apologize," he responded, "But some things are best kept within the family."
"Yeah, I get it," you smiled weakly, feeling like you had hit a wall, "Thanks for talking with me, Neteyam."
He nodded and went back to his task, leaving you feeling deflated and uncertain about how to get closer to him.
How do I make you want me?
The previous attempts to win Neteyam's attention had proven unsuccessful: The gifts you gave him didn't have the desired effect, your attempts to impress him by spending time with him backfired (you want to forget that memory of the hunt so badly), and the conversations you had with him remained superficial, never delving deeper into meaningful topics. It was clear that you needed a new approach, a fresh idea to capture his interest which brought you back to point zero.
You walked through the forest, scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the flowers you had been studying for quite some time – the kind you gifted Neteyam when you were little. It turns out that the rare flower wasn't that rare after all, it only bloomed a short time a cycle, which is what made it so valuable. However, if they were dried and powdered, very useful medicines could be made. At some point you had started collecting this flower, as well as other herbs and plants for Tsahìk, and in return she had taught you how to make rich creams and pastes from them. And you could also consume this flower in meals if you let it cook over the fire for a long time. Pondering if it would evoke nostalgia within Neteyam, while you plucked them carefully from the ground, you wondered if he ever remembered the day you gave him that flower in the first place.
Gathering a variety of edible flowers, aromatic herbs, and other nourishing ingredients from the village, you spent all morning helping the women in your clan prepare a wholesome and delicious meal for the warriors. In anticipation of Neteyam's training session, you decided to take this thoughtful approach to show your support and care.
As the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, you volunteered to bring the full basket of handmade food wraps and lovely cut fruits to the training area. 
The warriors were engrossed in their practice, their movements fluid and powerful. You scanned the crowd, searching for Neteyam among them.
Spotting him in the midst of the intense training session, his lean muscles glistening with sweat under the warm sun, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration. His movements were powerful and precise, each strike displaying his skill as a warrior. His strength and determination did something to you, feeling a magnetic pull towards him. 
Balancing the basket of food in your hands, you approached the outskirts of the training area, careful not to interrupt the warriors' focus. You set up a blanket and arranged the food on it attractively. Your intention was not only to impress Neteyam but to show your support for the entire group.
"I swear, Eywa send you here," you heard someone say next to you, a bit out of breath, while impatient hands reached into the basket and helped you place the food, "I'm starving!"
"Lo'ak, are you allowed to end your training like this?" You questioned, and turned your head in the direction of the warriors — the training was obviously still in full swing, but it was precisely then that you met Neteyam's gaze who was already looking over at you, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. 
"Not really but it smells so good, I'm ready to be skinned for these delici— Oh, I'm taking this one, yeah?" He started unwrapping one of the food wraps and hastily bit into it. 
"Hey, wait for the others!" you admonished him, but his wrap was already half eaten.
"Mm, das bom!" you heard him smack loudly, "S'rusly, yur da best."
"I'm glad," you responded, suppressing a laugh. Lo'ak acted like he hadn't eaten in days. 
Noticing the spread of food, the warriors collectively ended the training session, and the men started approaching the nourishing dishes, including freshly grilled meats, vibrant vegetables, and flavorful herbs.
Sensing an opportunity, you went towards Neteyam, a food wrap in your hand, and a warm smile gracing your lips. "I thought I would spare you the long way, in case you're starving like your brother," you joked, gesturing with your head towards Lo'ak behind you, who was taking two more food wraps and calling dips on the rawp.
Neteyam's gaze shifted from the feast you had prepared to the food in his hands and then at you. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 
"That's thoughtful of you," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, "It's been an intense training session, and this is a welcome surprise."
You stepped back, allowing him to enjoy the meal with his fellow warriors. Observing from a distance, you noticed the camaraderie and laughter that emerged as they gathered around the spread of food, indulging in the flavors that were carefully crafted.
Throughout the meal, you found yourself drawn to Neteyam's presence. The way he spoke with passion about his experiences, the way he listened attentively to others, and the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden depth — all of it only fueled your growing attraction.
As the training session continued, you lingered nearby, engaging in conversations with other warriors, offering encouragement and companionship. While your initial intention was to impress Neteyam, you found joy in connecting with the community as a whole, so much you almost didn't realize that the day's training had come to an end.
"Thank you for the meal and your company," Neteyam said softly as he walked next to you back to the village, carrying the basket for you with a genuine smile gracing his face. "It meant a lot to all of us."
Your cheeks warmed at his words, "I didn't do much, the others—"
"You are here, that alone is more than enough."
You nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. "I'm glad I could contribute," your voice was filled with sincerity, "Supporting you and the clan is important to me."
A surge of hope welled up inside you, but as the conversation continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Despite your efforts, the romantic tension you had hoped for seemed to elude you. The conversation remained pleasant yet distant, and it became clear that Neteyam saw you more as a friend than a potential partner. With a heavy heart, you realized that your attempt to catch his interest had once again fallen short.
And make it last eternally?
For quite some time now, you have firmly believed that you have left those days behind you, imprisoned in childhood memories, overlapped by numerous teenage embarrassments. After all, now you are an adult with serious duties and commitments to attend to, and there's neither time nor room for such childish infatuations. Crushing on the future Olo'eyktan. Please. Plus, once you found out how many other girls in your clan, both older and younger than you, adored him, you figured it is best to move on. You were frustrated at times, but you resolved to carry on, cherishing the friendship you shared with Neteyam while silently letting go of your unrequited feelings. At least, that's what you thought...
… until three eclipses ago.
Mere moments before the eclipse, the all-too-familiar soft light danced in the room,  casting a golden hue that revealed the tiniest pollen floating around inside Tsahìk's crowded tent. It had been a long time since so many people had been injured at once, yet no one was ready to explain or report what had happened.
As two new figures entered the tent, one of them supporting the other, you heard a familiar voice speaking calmly, "Focus on not getting blood all over grandmother's tent rather than worrying about my wounds."
"Nah, I'm just- Ouch! Careful, bro!"
"Sorry, brother, but you have to cooperate with me here," Neteyam uttered while carefully helping Lo'ak onto the mat made of woven grasses that Kiri had prepared for them with blankets. 
"I'm just saying—Ahh," Lo'ak hissed as Neteyam applied pressure to his open wound with his bare hands, while Kiri hastily tied together any available cloths for his wound care. "-it's not very mighty of you, you know."
"What is not very mighty of him?" Kiri wanted to know, now taking over and applying pressure to his wound as well to stop the bleeding. As you shifted to Kiri's side, you handed her more cloths that she could wrap around Lo'ak's leg.
"His wounds, of course," Lo'ak grinned when he saw you and gave his older brother another amused sideways glance, before continuing, "but I'm sure he will be in great hands now. Right, bro?"
Just a quick glance at Lo'ak was enough to see that he was far worse off than Neteyam. While his wounds did not appear to be life-threatening, he was bleeding profusely from his thigh.
Tsahìk had already rushed to the four of you, throwing a disapproving look at Lo'ak, "Oh, my boy, let me have a look." With her expertise, she quickly got the situation under control, ordering Kiri to get more cloths while you stood by her side to assist her.
"My child, attend to his wounds," Tsahìk instructed you, but to your surprise she nodded towards Neteyam instead of Lo'ak as she pushed a bowl of fresh water into your hands. "My granddaughter and I can handle this young clumsy man here." Her stern gaze was once again fixed on Lo'ak, who, in turn, only grinned at her.
"Grandmother," Neteyam began soothingly, ready to protest, "there is no need to—" but her piercing eyes silenced him, causing him to follow you wordlessly to the other side of the tent.
And that's how you found yourself sitting in front of Neteyam, tending to his wounds with the gentle touch of your hands, caring for each cut and bruise.
"You need to be more careful," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as you wrung the cloth in the water that had already turned a muddy reddish color.
"I'm content with the present circumstances," he replied, his voice laced with a touch of amusement. You gave him a sarcastic look, which he reciprocated with a warm smile.
"Well, I suppose then you'll be content with this as well." Pressing the damp cloth into his hand, you stood up and leisurely made your way to Tsahìk's supplies to fetch some healing ointments, and you took your time doing so.
Upon your return, Neteyam watched you attentively, his eyes tracing your every movement, and you wondered if he had been watching you the whole time. There was a newfound curiosity in his gaze, a glimmer of something more. 
"My words came out wrong," he said when you sat back on the ground in front of him. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and unspoken emotions, a subtle tension hanging between you. "You're right, I should be more careful. I always strive to be. It's just that there's little one can do in the face of an ambush."
"An ambush?" you asked with big eyes, "Oh, Great Mother! That's what everyone's been trying to conceal. And I was wondering the whole time what could've possibly happened to cause so many injuries."
"They probably didn't want to cause an uproar." You listened to his words, sensing the weight they carried. The mention of an ambush brought back memories of past dangers and harrowing encounters. The gravity of their lives was never far from their thoughts, and you understood the weight that rested on Neteyam's shoulders.
"You don't always have to be the strong one, Neteyam," you said softly, voice carrying reassurance, when you continued cleaning the cut on his chest, noticing that he tried not to wince under your touch, "It's alright to lean on others, to let them care for you." 
A flicker of emotion danced across his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he regained his composure. His hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest above his heart, the contact gentle yet charged with unspoken emotions.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, and in that moment it felt like the boundaries between healer and wounded blurred, "Thank you for being here, for tending to me." His eyes locked with yours, an unspoken promise passing between you, turning your cheeks in a light purply color.
"Now," you cleared your throat with the intention of changing the subject, fervently hoping that he wouldn't notice your flushed cheeks, "here comes the actual healing part."
Gently, you dipped your fingers into the jar of ointment, scooping out a generous amount. With deliberate movements, you applied the soothing balm to his wounds, careful not to cause any further discomfort. The ointment glided smoothly, creating a soothing sensation that seemed to envelop him in a healing embrace.
"What I meant before is that I am glad that you are the one taking care of me," you smiled upon hearing those words, feeling his gaze on you as you concentrated on his upper body. A gentle warmth radiated from his wounds as your fingertips grazed his skin, mingling with the tender touch of your hands. The ointment possessed a subtle fragrance, hinting at the natural remedies it held within.
As you continued to apply the ointment, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his chest, exploring the intricate landscape of his injuries, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythm of your ministrations became a quiet conversation, a wordless understanding of care and compassion. With every gentle caress, a subtle shiver passed through him, a reaction that spoke of both vulnerability and an underlying trust in your touch. There was a closeness in this shared moment, a connection forged through the tender act of healing.
Neteyam's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes revealing a depth of gratitude and something more profound. It was as if the vulnerability of his wounds had peeled away a layer, exposing a vulnerability of the heart. The strength he embodied as a warrior was softened in this vulnerable space, allowing a snippet into the depths of his mind and soul.
"It never stings when you patch me up, why?" Neteyam asked, his voice laced with wonder, tilting his head slightly.
"The secret is to mix yalnabark with 'omsyul," you replied, your voice gentle yet filled with a hint of playfulness.
"Care to share this secret with my grandmother? And Kiri, too?" Neteyam's request was teasing but also genuine, and you couldn't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.
"Actually, Kiri is the one who taught me this," you admitted, a fondness in your voice.
Neteyam's forehead furrowed slightly, "Then why does it always burn when she patches me up?"
With a twinkle in your eyes, you playfully suggested, "Sibling love?"
A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps your touch is blessed by Eywa?" His words hung in the air, filled with a newfound flirtation that took you by surprise. 
"Oh, come on now, exaggerate much, do you?" you responded, attempting to brush off his words with a hint of irony, not fully realizing the impact they had on you.
Undeterred by your sarcastic retort, Neteyam looked deeply into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "The caress of your hand weaves a tapestry of enchantment, casting a spell that captivates my very soul."
His words echoed in your mind, resonating with a blend of tender affection and longing. You wished he had said those words when you were younger and so in love with him, meaning every syllable coming from his kissable lips. What you would have given to hear him say it.
A blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The air around you seemed charged with electricity, the tension between you both palpable.
"You said I should exaggerate," Neteyam added, a witty glint in his eyes, as if to remind you of your earlier banter. 
Your younger self would have etched his previous words into a tree to make them eternal — words you longed to hear from your crush, words that felt like a dream.
"Crush?" he asked with interest, and your eyes widened with the realization that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. "On whom?"
"Um," a jumble of thoughts flooded your mind at once, too late for an excuse, "You?" 
Your confession left him momentarily speechless, and your heart pounded in your chest. 
It's in the past, so it's okay to admit it, you told yourself, trying to calm down a bit.
"You have a crush on me?"
"Had," you corrected quickly.
"You had a crush on me?" he asked again, as if needing confirmation. It seemed to sweep him off his feet, a revelation he hadn't expected.
"Everyone did, everyone does," you confessed, trying to downplay the significance.
"Everyone except you?"
You shrugged, unsure how to answer, "I guess I'm… over it."
"Why?" he inquired.
"Come on, Neteyam," you sighed, trying to mask the bitterness in your voice, "don't act like you didn't know."
"I swear by Eywa this is news to me… I have never…" he hesitated briefly with his words, "It doesn't even make sense."
Make sense?
"Don't make me regret telling you," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "It's not about making sense, and it's not a big deal either, don't you agree?"
"Yes, but I try to understand."
"What is there to understand?"
"Why would you even crush on me in the first place?"
Oh. 
"You're right," you tightly gripped the cloth, forcing a smile, "why would I."
Even though you reluctantly admitted it, it hurt you and scratched at your ego. You were now more than grateful to have never openly communicated your feelings. As an adult, you could handle it, but you know exactly that this reaction would have devastated your childhood self. You were not accustomed to this insensitivity from Neteyam, considering he always maintained a noble and respectable demeanor. This showed you even more how repulsive the idea of having you by his side was to him.
"Also, I'm sorry," you turned around in a swing, your voice filled with sadness, disappointment, and above all, anger—anger at him for acting like a skxawng and anger at yourself for being a skxawng by confiding in him, "that the thought of me being attracted to you disgusts you so much. It won't happen again, rest your mind."  
He seemed lost for words, blinking once, twice, and opening his mouth only to close it again, processing your words. Part of you yearned for him to say something, to prove you wrong, but nothing came. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, altering between your eyes, the unspoken words hanging in the air. 
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere," you said, your voice tinged with resignation. You prepared to turn away, ready to retreat from the turmoil of the moment. But just as you began to pivot, a sudden, gentle grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. It was Neteyam, his touch both unexpected and tender.
In that instant, conflicting emotions surged within you, caught between the instinct to push him away and the captivating gaze that held your attention. Without uttering a single word, he drew you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace that left you completely defenseless, your body momentarily frozen in surprise against his bare skin.
Your initial response was to resist, your mind still reeling from the whirlwind of confusion. Yet, as his arms enveloped you, a scent as enchanting as the forest's vibrant essence and the serenity of sacred woods wafted into your consciousness. It was a harmonious blend that stirred your senses, mingling the fragrant allure of nature with the grounding whispers of sandalwood.
Inhaling deeply, the captivating aroma cast a spell upon you, dissolving the remnants of anger and frustration that had once consumed your thoughts like a distant memory as he held you firmly in his strong arms, the warmth of his body seeping into your very core.
In this suspended moment, time appeared to lose its grip as the only audible sounds were the rhythm of your synchronized breaths and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.
"I'm sorry too," you heard him whisper in your hair as he pulled away from you and left the tent, leaving you confused.
It was in that moment, surrounded by the fading light and the soft whispers of the forest outside the tent, that you realized the painful truth: nothing would be the same between you and Neteyam because
no matter what you did, you would never be able to make him love you.
And exactly this is the reason of your sleepless nights, which is why, in the middle of your melancholic nostalgia, you decided to take a little walk to the lake nearby to pass the time until daybreak which leads you to the lake. You currently sit on a mossy tree stump above the shimmering water allowing your feet to hang freely just above the glistening surface of the lake, instead of sleeping safe and sound like the rest of the village. The purples, greens, and yellows of the bioluminescent flora and fauna smile at you but you fail to smile back. Your heart heavy with a mix of emotions and your mind full of questions, you try not to think of more memories, each one feeling like a dagger, piercing your already fragile heart. 
You try to understand, yet it's difficult for you.
After so many failed attempts and moments of acceptance in between, he still manages to confuse you with his mixed signals. The moment, when he hugged you, replays relentlessly in your thoughts as if burned in your mind, a vivid recollection that carries the weight of his proximity, the tempting linger of his scent, and the electric touch that ignited a fierce tension within you. It was an encounter that left an indelible mark, an irresistible dance between desire and restraint, etching itself into the deepest recesses of your longing soul.
You groan into your hands. You want to hate him. So much.
Three eclipses have come and gone since then, way too much time to think between that and the part where you made the decision to distance yourself from Neteyam. This time for real. You wake up earlier than everyone else, dedicating yourself to your work, skipping communal meals and shared gatherings entirely. You complete your tasks and retreat back to your home, like a ghost in the clan, yet living unscathed within your own space, seeking solace in the sanctuary of solitude.
Almost every hour, you find yourself battling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you long to see him, to be in his presence, and to feel that familiar connection. But on the other hand, you remember his last words and the way he looked at you when he learned about your past feelings. Distance will be best for the both of you. The ache in your heart hasn't subsided, but you know the step is necessary for your own well-being, it's a shield you've built to preserve what little strength remains within you.
Yesterday, your changed behavior was noticed by Tsahik, so she confronted you directly, but she neither questioned you nor expected any form of explanation. Her words still echo in your mind, partly because forgetting the moment will be difficult with the way she looked at you with her kind eyes, as if understanding the depths of your heartache.
"My child," she laid her hand gently on your shoulder, her voice carrying the wisdom of the ages, "Sometimes the tides do not turn in the way we hope but that does not diminish the beauty of the love within your heart. Always remember that Eywa has woven the threads of affection and devotion. Thus, have trust that the stars will align one day, for love, in all its form, is a gift to cherish."
The words resonate deep within your soul, as you sit by the tranquil water, the soft glow of the plants casting an ethereal light around you, a gentle breeze rustles through the verdant foliage. In these moments of isolation, you reflect on the times you've spent with Neteyam, the moments that sparked the flame of attraction within you. You question whether those were genuine or merely figments of your imagination, the doubts swirling in your mind, clouding your judgment and feeding your insecurities. 
The stars above seem to mirror the twinkle in your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled desire for you can't comprehend why your heart continues to long for him despite your mind trying to move on. Your thoughts are deep in contemplation when—
"Can we talk?" The voice startles you, and you flinch sharply, almost letting out a scream. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, the fright taking hold of you. Quickly, you turn around, only to see that out of everyone, Neteyam approaches you, his figure blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a crooked smile forms on his lips.
You look up, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression, unsure of what to expect from this encounter. His presence catches you off guard, causing your heart to skip another beat. The sight of him stirs a mix of emotions within you—longing, uncertainty, fear, but also a flicker of hope.
"You didn't," you lie, your voice tinged with coldness.
He nods his head towards the space beside you, "May I?" 
Neteyam's eyes hold a certain earnestness, a silent plea for understanding. You just shrug your shoulders, and he interprets it as a yes. He takes a seat beside you, his movements graceful and measured, his tail gently swaying in the air, your shoulders and thighs nearly touching. 
The silence between you is tense, charged with unspoken words and residual feelings. You let your feet dangle above the water. As you wiggle your toes, you feel a gentle coolness from the air mingling with the refreshing touch of the water below.
He clears his voice, "I've noticed your absence these past few days."
"Oh?" Your ears perk up with curiosity, surprised that he has noticed, "I was busy."
"You were missing from the meal servings as well," he notes, his words carrying a hint of concern.
"Yeah, I haven't had much of an appetite lately," you reply, sounding detached.
You aren't sure if you have misheard, but it seems like Neteyam has whispered softly to himself, "Me neither," although it can also be your mind playing tricks on you.
"You see, I, uh..." he pauses, seemingly struggling to find the right words which is so unusual for him, "Can I speak openly with you?"
"Don't you always?" Your voice still laced with a hint of coldness.
"Indeed," you noticed from the corner of your eye a brief tension in his hands that gradually relaxes, "I just wanted to let you know that there is no need for you to feel obligated to skip communal gatherings because of me." 
You can't help but scoff at that, however, he remains undeterred by your reaction.
"It's okay if you don't want to see me — I will keep my distance if that is what you want, but, please, don't avoid the clan in an attempt to avoid me. Don't isolate yourself."
"Funny," you say bitterly, your gaze still on the water, "that you think you have that much power over me."
"That's not what I wanted to say, it's—"
"It's fine, Neteyam," you interrupt him, turning your head to him, your jaw clenched, "I get it. If the future Olo'eyktan says so, I'll comply. See you at the morning meal."
You attempt to get up, but he gently grasps your wrist, halting your movement.
"I can sense that something has changed between us, and it weighs heavily on my heart," his voice carries a hint of vulnerability.
"Things change," you respond as he loosens his grip, but you refrain from attempting to get up again, waiting for the conversation to end, "Is there anything else?"
"Yes," he shifts, causing your thighs to briefly brush against each other, "I've had time to reflect on our last conversation."
"Actually, let's not—" you try to interrupt him, but this time he doesn't let your words stop him.
"Let me say this one thing and after that you don't have to talk to me again."
You meet his gaze, which is filled with honesty and a touch of guilt. You nod and look at him, noticing how he rubs his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath.
"I was caught off guard," he admits, his voice softer now, "When we talked, I mean; and when I learned that you used to feel an affection for me — I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry for the way I reacted and for the pain I may have caused you."
You remain silent for a few seconds remembering the unpleasant conversation from last time, before you speak, "We don't have to talk about it, it's okay."
"No, it's not okay!" You notice the tension in his muscles. "You see," he takes a deep breath, "I didn't understand why you would crush on me."
"You made that very clear," you remark.
"I regret my poor choice of words, and for any offense it may have caused. I immediately noticed that my words had an impact on you, but I was too overwhelmed to correct myself in the moment," he admits, a hint of regret in his voice, "Please know that the idea of you being attracted to me never has and never will disgust me," his eyes lock with yours as his voice gets quieter when he adds, "It scares me."
Upon hearing that, your features soften slightly, a flicker of empathy crossing your face, and the question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, "Why?"
Now he's the one shrugging, "Everyone has their own doubts and fears."
You're not satisfied with that response, and you want him to open up to you for which you are willing to meet him halfway. So you begin an attempt to make him elaborate on his statement, "I'm scared of many things." you watch him intently as you speak, "Accidentally plucking poisonous plants instead of the usual herbs, falling down the hallelujah mountains, being eaten alive by nantangs." And most of all, rejection. "I can't help but wonder what fears could reside within a mighty warrior like yourself."
His mouth twitches slightly upwards when you say that, but is quickly replaced by a neutral expression. "The possibility of someone seeing through my façade," Neteyam admits sighing, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and self-reflection, "Of someone truly knowing me," he holds your gaze, a certain vulnerability in them, "That terrifies me."
You are left speechless, completely caught off guard by his answer.
"But," you stammer, trying to find the right words to express your thoughts, "you're Neteyam, you're... perfect in everything you do. I never considered the possibility that you might have these thoughts."
He shakes his head, disagreeing. "No, definitely not, I am far off from being perfect. That's why I couldn't understand why you would have feelings for me," he confesses, vulnerability shining in his gaze. "Because I never saw myself the way you did. But maybe, just maybe, this is why I've been blind to the possibility of something more between us."
"If you're only here to make me feel better about myself..." you start, your voice trailing off.
"No," he groans in frustration. "That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
He chuckles at your reaction, "I get nervous when you look at me that way."
"What do you mean?" You are the one getting nervous because of his statement for he doesn't look nervous at all, on the contrary, he looks very relaxed and almost overconfident. 
"Yeah, can't you tell my hands are all sweaty?" he lets you know with a smirk while he studies your face.
"Neteyam," you blink in confusion, "Are you okay?"
"You're not listening," he sighs, his smile dropping slightly.
"Then talk openly," you urge impatiently.
He takes a deep breath and looks you directly in the eyes. "I've come to realize that you mean more to me than just a friend."
Your features falter and your eyes widen, as the realization dawns upon you that your feelings have not been unrequited after all. "No."
"I have a crush on you, too," he whispers euphorically, confirming your thoughts.
"No, Neteyam, not now," you shake your head quickly, your mind filled with way too many thoughts and too much confusion. Instantly, you stand up as if stung by an insect, trying to maintain your composure.
"It didn't start now, it was always there," he admits, standing up as well, now towering over you and studying your face and your reaction again. "But I fear that I've missed my chance. And now, it seems like it's too late."
Ignoring his words entirely, you fixate your serious gaze on him, "You can't do this to me."
"What?" he blinks, seeming to comprehend your words, "Why?" his gaze momentarily shifts from one eye to the other with a swift glance, reflecting his confusion.
"Because all my life, I did everything to try to make you notice me. I went beyond my comfort zone, I did everything I could. But from you," You look at him, gesturing towards his entire figure as if the reason were obvious, "there was nothing. Not one single acknowledgment from you. I accepted it. I moved on. I made peace with the thought of just knowing you and supporting what is good for you," You find yourself almost breathless, your words tumbling out rapidly, but each one carries sincere meaning. "You can't come now, years later, and pretend that you have a crush on me. I can't go through that again."
He takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by your outburst. "I... I'm not pretending to—"
"And I'm so tired," you interrupt him, your voice faltering, "Now that I've finally let go of you, you can't say things like this."
"Let go?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief, "Of me?"
"Yes, Neteyam," you persist firmly. "Let go of you. I don't want you anymore."
The night air feels heavy with unspoken regrets and unfulfilled desires as the silence underlines the shared acknowledgment of the chasm that has opened between you. Neteyam's expression shifts from disappointment to determination, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. "How do I make you love me, then?"
It feels ironic that he's asking you that question, considering you used to be the one who always wondered how you could make him love you whenever you saw him. You groan in frustration, feeling overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. 
"I worked so hard to accept things as they are. That is not fair, Neteyam." A mix of sadness and anger can be heard in your voice.
"Please listen," he pleads, reaching out to touch your arm. You close your eyes, turning your head away. "I've been blind to your feelings, consumed by my own worries and obligations, and I didn't see what was right in front of me, hurting you in the process. I'm sorry I caused you pain. If I had known sooner…"
"What then?" you interrupt, your voice filled with bitterness. "Do you think everything would magically change, and we'd be deeply in love with a family of our own by now?"
Neteyam pauses for a moment, processing your words, and a hopeful smile crosses his face. "Yes, that's a possibility."
You groan in exasperation and attempt to push him away, your frustration boiling over. "No, Neteyam. I can't keep living in this cycle of uncertainty." 
As you push him away from you, your heart heavy, you walk away with determined steps, wanting to bring as much distance between him and you as possible.
"I love you!" he shouts after you, causing you to freeze in your tracks and turn around in utter shock. "I love you. And if that's not enough, then so be it. But I would rather be damned than let you go now, heading who knows where in the middle of the night. If you don't want me, I won't approach you, I won't come near. But don't run away from me."
Desperation visible in his voice, his words reach deep into your heart; the intensity echoing in the air, leaving a profound impact on both of you.
"I've been waiting for your love for far too long," you respond bitterly.
Taking cautious steps in your direction, trying to close the physical and emotional distance between you, he asks, "Why waste more time?" It feels as if an invisible force draws you together, intertwining your fates in this pivotal moment but you remain stubborn, too exhausted and clouded from the painful burn in your heart.
"I don't want you," you declare, the words slipping out uncertainly, as if trying to convince both him and yourself.
"Then look me in the eyes when you say those words," he challenges, his voice stern, gaze unwavering.
"I don't want you," you repeat, louder this time, trying to emphasize your resolve. However, instead of looking into his eyes, your gaze fixates on his face, tracing the patterns of his glowing freckles that your mind has memorized long ago.
The moonlight bathes the scene in a gentle gleam, and you both stare at each other in complete silence, the space between you filled with suffocating tension.
A knowing smile suddenly forms on his lips. "I don't believe you."
"I don't want you, Neteyam!" you exclaim, raising your voice even more, repeating the words over and over, in a desperate attempt to convince him, "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you!"
He studies you intently for another moment, his eyes filled with hope.
"Your tail gives you away," he says triumphantly, his smile growing. And that's when you finally let go of your suppressed emotions. Your lower lip begins to tremble, and before you know it, you find yourself in his warm embrace, his strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him.
"I want you," you confessed against his chest, your voice barely audible and filled with so much vulnerability, "After everything, I still want you." 
"Shh, you have me," he whispers, his voice soothing and reassuring.
You sob, the weight of your emotions finally breaking free, and he tenderly pats your head, his fingers gliding through your hair. His touch brings a sense of calmness to your racing heart and gently dries your tears.
"I'll make up for all the time lost, I promise," his voice reaches your ear, soft and full of sincerity.
His words continue to soothe you, and at one point, he hums a faint melody that resonates deep within you, gradually bringing an end to your sobs.
"Do you recall the day you asked about my plans after my Dream Hunt, and I hesitated to provide an answer?" He asks after you calm down, his voice carrying an infinite sense of solace.
Your arms still around him, you nod against his chest, every word of that conversation etched into your mind.
"That day," he continues, "I have sworn to myself to admire your eternal beauty from afar, to cherish your body, mind, and soul until the end of my days," he whispers softly in your hair, "with the hope that one day I will hold you close and claim you as my very own."
You take a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed by his words and the emotions swirling within you. Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your teary eyes meeting his with awe.
"I... I never imagined you felt this way," you whisper, your voice hoarse and fragile from your sobs. "To think that you've carried these feelings for me all this time, it's... I don't know what to say."
"Interesting," he comments, eyes with a gleam, lips playful, "You were just as oblivious to my feelings as I was to yours, so I guess that makes us even." A mischievous bunny-like smile plays across his face, transforming him into the youthful version of himself that you have fallen deeply in love with, no longer the mighty warrior following in the footsteps of the great Toruk Makto, but the young man who has captured your heart long ago.
You can feel tears welling up in your eyes again, overwhelmed by the weight of his words and the intensity of your own emotions. With a shaky breath, you reach to your waist, gently intertwining your fingers with his.
In the warmth of his arms, you find solace for your burning heart. His arms hold you tightly, offering a sense of intimate security that you've always wished for. But then, something shifts. 
The intensity of your emotions begins to wane, and as you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, you see his gaze fixed upon you with unwavering love, trying to read you as he cups your face with his large hands. His thumb gently brushes away a lingering tear on your cheek, his touch delicate against your skin. A soft, affectionate smile graces his lips as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the place where your tear was mere seconds ago. The sweetness of the gesture stirs your heart, a silent affirmation of his loving nature. He continues to kiss away your tears, each touch a soothing balm to your wounded soul.
A powerful desire burns between you then, as his soft lips linger near yours. His eyes meet yours again, seeking permission, and you respond with a silent nod. Right then and there, the world around you fades into the background, and all that matters is the connection you share. With a surge of passion, his lips meet yours in a fervent kiss, the longing coming to an end, hearts intertwined. 
The tender touch of his lips against yours feels like an electric jolt that sends shivers down your spine. You both pull back slowly from the passionate kiss, breathless yet connected. Your eyes meet, gazing into each other with a depth of love that words can never describe.
His eyes hold unwavering sincerity as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. "You've captured my heart in ways I can't fully express," he confesses, his voice filled with affection. "And if you'll allow me, I want to show you every day how deeply I love you."
A deep blue blush tints your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to respond. He doesn't seem to mind as a soft smile spreads across his face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, adoring the tranquil moment between two souls.
Enjoying each other's presence and your newfound attraction and happiness, you spend the rest of the night hand in hand wandering around mindlessly, exchanging loving gazes, talking about everything and sweet nothing's at once like two fools in love.
"Do you remember that day?" You hear him ask cheerfully as his free hand wanders to the songcord attached to his loincloth. You follow his movement and your eyes widen as you recognize the dried petals, intricately woven into one of the beads. "It was so unconventional, going against tradition. Who has ever seen a girl giving a flower to a boy? No one. But you didn't care. You were true to yourself, and you gifted me your favorite flower, and it meant so much more than just a little gesture."
Taking aback by his words and the bittersweet memory you can't help but smile widely as you inspect his songcord but confusion grazes your face at the same time.
"Wait—What do you mean? Lo'ak told me it's your favorite flower."
"No, he told me it's your favorite."
"Well, it became my favorite after I learned that it's yours."
A boisterous laugh escapes him as he throws his head back, his chest almost vibrating, and it is so contagious that you can't help but join in, the air filled with heartfelt laughter.
"It's gonna cause quite a scandal, but Lo'ak definitely deserves a good punch when he wakes up." You laughed, knowing that he meant that half-heartedly.
He delicately cradles your hand back in his, your fingers intertwining as he brings them up, his lips softly brushing against your knuckles in a loving kiss. The touch sends a warmth through your body. 
"Speaking of scandals," you say sheepishly as you reluctantly let go of his hand, "maybe it's better not to enter our village hand in hand just yet?"
He chuckles at your suggestion.
"Maybe," he agrees, his eyes filled with adoration, his face leaning slightly forward, "Can I have one last kiss before that?"
You look at him challengingly, he mirrors your expression, a playful glint in his eyes, coming closer to your face. 
Your lips almost touching for the second time this night, you whisper, "Only if you catch me." 
With that, you run off, your heart blooming with excitement, and his laughter follows you through the enchanting forest as the sun rises, casting its warm rays across the sky, and you know that the future holds nothing but love for the both of you.
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for anyone asking, neteyam does in fact catch you and gets his kiss(es) <3 thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging 🤍 btw, what is your love language? 💕
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moonsaver · 1 month
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I cant stop thinking about being a possible singer from the Iris Family?? Their family is usually responsible for the major "talent" productions that practically are responsible for the entertainment... also Siobhan as hints to what the Iris family would be like.
-
You were a singer.
Barely a singer, to be fair.
It was for the sake of your little compartment of a family. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you scraped out every last bit of your talents. The one which seems to be lasting the longest, seems to be singing.
You did what you had to. You sang until your throat was raw and hurt, practiced day and night until your ears were sick of your own voice, passed through every elimination tests that were conducted – all so you could have a stabilized, bolted place in the Iris Family, if it meant you and your parents and siblings weren't kicked out.
And, you weren't the best. And certainly not as good as Robin – the gem of the Oak Family. It was ironic, but it didn't matter. Not to you. As long as it kept your family secure, you endured. The comparisons, the hushed, barely pleased audience as they only took your performance as stalling time for the "real stars" of the show, the side-glances all of your other relatives threw your way. It was fine. You told yourself so. It was fine as long as you, your parents and your siblings were secured.
Risks weren't an option for you. Not when you had too much to lose.
-
Sunday has learned to appreciate frequency over output.
Times where schedules had to be rearranged last minute, performances strained and announcements elongated to squeeze out any extra amount of coverage for a missing show, routine dismantled and put together in real time as the neverending perfect show went on.
In all of those times, Sunday kept a usual eye on everyone. Their names, roles, status, popularity, preferences. And most importantly – their reliability.
You were an average performer. But your reliability was notable to Sunday. Oftentimes he found himself looking for you first and foremost for an improvised concert, whenever things even threatened to go awry. He knew perhaps you obliged out of self-interest or a simple fear of upsetting The Head of the Oak Family, but you were reliable in your own way. A simple glance your way and a nod was enough to signal you for advance preparation for improvisation, repeated song lyrics at the tip of your tongue.
If you were lucky, sometimes Sunday would repay you by scheduling you for an opening performance for a small-time event, or letting you in on the recent trends, the general public opinion towards your show, or even drop some personal hints for you to improve.
That was all you were. A reliable stand-in for when there were a disarray of clarity, disagreements upon disagreements, confusion stagnating the scheduling.
-
Until, you became so much more in a simple moment of disillusion.
A break is in order, Sunday believes. He clicks his pen continuously, the sound echoing in the vast space of the room, bouncing off of the sterile, empty walls.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
5 times.
Click.
6 times.
Sunday's restless mind comes to a small halt when he inhales sharply, constraining his fingers. His shaking hand gently places the pen onto the flat, neatly organized desk, back where it belongs. He rests his chin on his hands. Thinking and listing everything on his agenda for the day.
A tandem of knocks resound from the smooth wooden surface of the door.
"Mr. Sunday?"
Ah. It's you.
He supposes his asisstants and servants don't realize he's noticed the recent pattern as of late. Whenever something changes in the schedule that could possibly threaten to dampen his mood or displease him, they send you in as some sort of collateral. He's gotten used to your presence enough to not mind it.
"Come in."
Short, quick clicks of your heels accompany the entering of your figure into the room. Your front is warmly illuminated by the yellow lighting of the room.
"Changes have been decided within the schedule again."
"As expected."
He gets up from the leather chair with a subtle creak, the steps of his shoes muffled by the carpet. He walks around his table, fingers trailing across the ridges of the masterfully crafted desk.
"Can I ask a favor of you, as always?"
"Of course."
His wings slightly flutter, pleased at the response. You can tell, despite his back facing you.
His fingers trail and come to a slow halt at the edge of the desk. His index finger taps on the surface.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
5 times.
Ah, you think. He's anxious.
"Mr. Sunday?"
"Hm?"
His finger stops, you note.
"I've heard guests have taken more to berry-flavored items as of late."
He chuckles a bit, softly.
"There's an uprising trend. Berry-flavored items have been on the rise, and as such, food follows."
Sunday half theorizes it could be due to the recent intreview Robin had. Strawberry flavored lipgloss was something she mentioned in particular.
"Ah. I see. So I suppose those colors may also influence the recent fashion trends?"
Sunday hums, in thought.
The moment is interrupted by an abrupt knock at the door.
"Mr. Sunday, there's a few tasks that need your approval to go ahead."
The male asisstant's voice resounds confidently through the previously quiet room. Sunday looks over at you and nods. You turn to take your leave. You can only hope it was enough of a reprieve for him.
-
"It seems fashion trends are inspired, aswell."
Sunday mentions, standing beside you. His eyes are watchful, analyzing the current performance from behind the curtains.
"I see."
You respond. Making conversation was not your strongsuit. Sunday smiles slightly at your awkwardness.
He continued the conversation after a few moments, talking about color palettes, scents, and general observable trends. Your usual,basic gowns and dresses will now see a noticeable change, due to Sunday's suggestions.
He admits, even at times, he looks forward to them. Sometimes, as foolish as it sounds, he slips in a mix of his own personal opinion, thinly disguised as the "general preference", which manages to then take presidence over your usual pick of gowns. He won't admit it, but he secretly does enjoy sometimes "picking out" your outfits. It's never harmed anyone in the long run, and Sunday's personal theories of whichever color would look good on you are confirmed.
-
"May I ask.. what this is..?"
The artificial, blue light of the Dreamscape softly highlights Sunday's face, as he stands before you with a pleased look. The same, usual smile on his face.
"I believe incorporating a few gold accents into your palette may help."
You look at the black, velvet bag; the ends of it scrunched into a closure. Your fingers gently pry it open and meddle around a bit, before they pull out a single, gold earring. It glimmers wonderfully under the soft, blue light. There's a flower at the very top with an encrusted diamond, from which a long, elegant thread of gold dangles, ending into a small golden stalk.
You curiously examine it, slightly dangling it to inspect the weight and movement of the accessory.
Sunday walks toward you with a few, short strides, and holds out his hand.
You look at his open, gloved palm, then him.
You inhale deeply, before taking off your current earrings and placing them onto his hand, and gently replacing their former stations with the new earrings. Sunday places your previous earrings into the velvet bag, and glances at your ears, then you.
"Consider it a.. company gift."
How fanciful.
"Thank you for your generosity."
Sunday's eyes linger on your ears, then trail down to the junction of your jaw. His eyes close as his smiles widens slightly.
To be fair, he wanted more.
Sunday has been getting closer to you as of late.
Because you wouldn't imagine ever being this close in proximity to Robin of all people.
Her lips are glossy with a strawberry tint, and her eyes are a beautiful lake green, you note. You also take note of the fact she's much more warmer and approachable than she is appeared to be on digital surfaces.
Both of you engage in polite conversation, her taking the lead, noticing your awkwardness. She's sweet, and understanding. She discusses general things regarding singing and songwriting. You take her for a very warm individual. It's no wonder she's a well-liked popstar. Talent alone can take you so far.
What you also wouldn't imagine is her managing to entangle you within her daily affairs. She leads you to private rooms, asks for advice on outfits, practice, and all sorts of things, despite the contrast of your styles almost bizzare, you oblige anyway.
And it's almost brazenly obvious she's trying to get you and Sunday to spend more time alone outside of work.
It's of no coincidence that she suddenly has to leave and take care of a few things or shuffle around a bit outside whenever Sunday manages to pop in and check up on you two. It wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if for the fact, Sunday's eyes are always lingering on your ears.
Once, he'd taken note that you'd been wearing them more often to your performances and shows. It can't be helped – you've gained more popularity and as a result, keener eyes inspect your choice of practically everything. Including your earrings. Your fans aren't hesitant to point out how exquisite and specific the craftsmanship of your earrings are, and it's not long before your fans have understood it was gifted to you. By who, became the newest sensation regarding you. Petty rumors were incriminating, but you suppose if it brought you more fans, it was enough.
Sunday chuckles softly when you briefly touch on the subject.
It wasn't long before he'd gotten you another pair as a result.
You only worry about paying him back, more and more.
There are a plethora of thorns on Sunday's side. Many, of which the public, and many members of the Oak Family aren't privy to.
One of them was currently busy darkening his doorstep;
The IPC.
Or rather specifically – Aventurine.
What he wasn't expecting, was for you to be an exclusive invitee to his mischief.
You were rather in an unlucky spot. You had always considered your luck to be rusty, having struggled so much just for average recognition and a barely tangible career that's keeping your family afloat.
On top of that, you were being heavily persuaded by Aventurine, who was persistent in his offer to you. His desperation was more than obvious, like a nervous dog waiting for the bone toss, holding you in place with a firm grip on your arm. It didn't help that he'd forced his way into your hotel room aswell.
And Sunday just witnessed the pinnacle of this forsaken deal.
...
"Aventurine."
"Mr. Sunday."
After a beat of silence, you pathetically try to step in,
"This–"
"I see you've taken to familiarizing with my employees."
Sunday's smile remains well plastered on his face. Aventurine only smiles back.
"I was actually in the middle of striking a deal. There's always opportunities in the best of places, right?" Aventurine side-eyes you. You shrink back a bit.
"My employees are unfortunately off-limits to contracts from unauthorized branches. I look for your understanding in this.. complicated form of approach."
You watch Aventurine's smile strain. Sunday continues.
"Perhaps, if you are in need of a singer, I may direct you to an appropriate employee from the Iris Family to search for someone."
"That won't be necessary. I wasn't looking for a singer. You don't think that's all they're talented at, do you?"
Sunday's eyes slightly sharpen at him. Aventurine's smile becomes more genuine.
"Oh, you've positively ruined the mood. I guess it's just not my lucky day, and it looks like I'm not getting a deal with you anytime soon."
Aventurine's eyes hone in on you. You stand stiffly, your arm tense from the uncertainty your body feels physically.
His grip loosens, languidly. You'd think he was doing it slowly on purpose if not to tick off Sunday more.
"I'll take my leave, then."
Aventurine breezes past Sunday, rounding the corner of the door. He casts one last glance to you as the turns.
His footsteps echo down the hallway. As soon as they fade, Sunday's smile drops slightly.
"Are you perhaps.. unhappy with your current circumstances?"
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incendiobrock · 1 month
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Drunk Confessions {Chris Sturniolo}
Summary: Chris, Nick, and fem!reader attend the Tara Yummy party and some drunken confessions are made later on in the night.
A/N: I kinda hate how I wrote this but my account is seriously lacking Chris content so hopefully you will enjoy anyways lmao, if it's not too shitty lmk if you might want a part 2
Warnings: drinking, mentions of throwing up, super sweet, fluffy chris 🥹
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“Alright, you guys have fun!” Matt said as he dropped you Nick, and Chris off at the front of the building. You could hear the music blasting through the walls as people celebrated Tara. Matt wasn’t really feeling up to going to a party which worked perfectly in your favor knowing you had a reliable DD to pick you up later in the night. Chris and Nick wouldn’t drink either but you would never trust them to safely operate a vehicle so Matt was the best choice for the job.
Nick walked ahead of you as Chris stayed by your side, his right hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you both inside. You all had smiles etched onto your face as you entered the upbeat atmosphere filled with some of your influencer friends. Tara immediately saw you guys and pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much for coming!” She shouted over the music.
“We wouldn’t miss it!” You replied, congratulating her on hitting a million subscribers. Your eyes scanned the room noticing the bar, officially deciding that would be your next stop. Chris’s hand never left your lower back as he and Nick continued to talk to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” You said into Chris’s ear, departing the group.
The bar was filled with people trying to order different drinks. A special menu placed in the center with some specific drinks for Tara. You ordered a vodka cran and even got roped into taking a shot with some others that were at the bar. Without your knowledge, Chris kept a close eye on you from across the room. He loved seeing you have fun, especially knowing that you had been stressed with other things the past few weeks.
You needed to let loose and have a little fun, he thought. The liquor burned going down your throat as you took your shot, using a lime wedge as your chaser. Before you knew it, you were a few drinks in, and maybe a couple shots.
You felt like you were floating through the crowd as you made your way back to your friends. You wrapped an arms around both Chris and Nick’s shoulders, standing in between the two. “Heyyyy,” You slurred slightly.
“Where have you been?” Nick chuckled, trying to keep you supported as you swayed slightly into his side. “Yeah, you’ve been all over the place tonight. I saw you over at the bar and then over by the-“ Chris began before you cut him off.
“I wanna dance! Can we please danceee?” You begged, dragging out the end of your sentence. “You guys got this,” Nick said, passing you off to Chris. “Good luck kid.”
You looked up at Chris with big puppy dog eyes, silently restating your request to dance. “Of course, let’s go dance.” He said, placing his hand out for you to take hold of. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled you to the crowd of other people dancing. One of your favorite hype songs came on and you felt like you were on top of the world. You were facing Chris with a hand placed on each of his shoulders while his held your waist. You were both jumping around and singing the lyrics to one another. You couldn’t help but admire him as the flashing lights illuminated his face. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins but you wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a kiss.
After dancing for a few more songs Chris leaned down to your ear and yelling over the music, “You ready to go? Matt is here to pick us up!” A soft smile played on your face as you nodded, head still spinning from the drinks.
Chris had to practically lift you into your seat as your body stumbled to step up into the vehicle. “Okay- Okay sit still let me buckle you in.” Chris laughed, watching as you immediately started to fill Matt in on the night. The seatbelt buckle latched into place and Chris went to shut your door and hop into the passenger seat. “Chris-“ Your voice comes out in a whine, he glances behind his shoulder looking at you worried. “Are you gonna be sick?”
You shook your head ‘no’, staring into his eyes as he searched your face trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you sit with me?” Nick agrees and switches seats with his brother, taking over the passenger seat. Chris’s fingers found your hair as he playfully brushed his fingers through it. The drive home was about twenty minutes and you didn’t know if you would make it. Nausea settled in your stomach as the alcohol mixed with the moving car. You ended up rolling down the window to get some fresh, cool air.
As soon as Matt pulled into the garage you were lunging out your door and inside the house. You ran to Chris’s bathroom, not having enough time to shut the door before you were over the toilet bowl. This wasn’t how you were planning on ending the night. Embarrassment started to settle in when you heard footsteps entering the bathroom. “Go awayyy,” you couldn’t lift your head up but you knew who stood in the doorway. The presence was by your side that very next second, “I’m not leaving.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be gentle with you knowing you weren’t feeling well.
“Chris please, this is so embarrassing. I’m okay, I promise.”
“I know you are kid. I brought you some water, do you need anything else?”
“Maybe a shower.” You grumble.
Chris stood up and turned on the hot water for you, letting it heat up before you got in. Delicately, he helped you get out of the outfit you had on as you faced away from him, not wanting to expose yourself. His hand on your bare back as he helped get you into the shower.
Chris stayed right outside the shower, scrolling on his phone but making sure he was readily available if you needed anything. After the shower, you were being dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.
Your body collided with his mattress as you pulled the covers over your body. Chris got in bed beside you, laying flat on his back and keeping a healthy distance between you two. “Can we please cuddle?” You whisper. Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso.
“Thank you, Chris.”
“Don’t mention it kid. It’s no problem.”
Kid. That stupid nickname fell out of his mouth again for the second time tonight. It definitely didn’t feel very nice to hear him say it. You might regret this tomorrow but you were still feeling brave right now.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, what’s up.” He asked, looking down at your face as it continued to rest on his chest.
“I love you.”
A chuckle escaped past his lips, “I love you too-“
“No Chris. Like, I love you… I have for so long.” You watched as he tried to process the new information, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“I was scared to tell you because you’re like my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that but, it’s true. I love you so much.” You finished your little spiel.
“I feel the same way about you, but please let’s talk about this tomorrow. I want you to be able to remember this.” He was so gentle with you, he always was. You had such a special spot that he held in his heart for you. You were sad that he didn’t want to talk about this right now but you knew he was probably right, he normally was. You wanted to remember this conversation and you weren’t certain that you would remember anything when you woke up the next morning.
“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I will talk to you about this in the morning. I want to be able to kiss you when you’re in the right state of mind.” His lips pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, lulling you to sleep.
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erwinsvow · 16 hours
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you had lived in the house next to tannyhill your entire life. though it was smaller, much less grand and a little older, it was home.
your bedroom faced the opposite side of the street, looking out onto the other neighbors. you occasionally ran into sarah and wheezie on the block or during a stroll on your bike and your dad would sometimes be seen talking to ward in the backyard about the weather or the updates to the golf course at the country club.
but in all the years you had been living here, you had never caught the older cameron's attention—at least until the tree poked through your window during the most recent hurricane.
your bedroom—your most sacred space—was now a litter of broken glass and scratched up floors. it would be easy enough to replace, once your parents found someone reliable enough to do it, and the best solution offered to you was relocating temporarily to the guest bedroom. it faced the other side of the street, looking out over the cameron pool and, unbeknownst to you, rafe's bedroom.
at first you just move some of your things in, knowing your parents wanted you to stop running back to your old room until it was fixed. then more things come in, making yourself more comfortable, until it seems that this might as well be your new bedroom. it's easy enough—decorating walls with photos and posters, dragging in your bookshelf and appreciating the joint bathroom a little too much.
you get very comfortable—though you don't realize the curtains in this room are completely sheer. it faces windows of tannyhill that you've never seen another person in, so you assume they must be empty too.
that's when rafe sees you for the first time—changing in your bedroom through his window. you walk in with a white towel wrapped around your body, drying your hair while you pace around. he feels a little green, staring at pretty exposed skin and wet hair like it's the first time he's ever seen a half-naked girl.
you brush your hair and then get closer to the window, a foot perched on the windowsill while you rub lotion onto your legs, and then your arms. rafe's still staring, and though he's sure he looks like a creep if you glanced up and at him, he doesn't stop. finally you get to your neck, and just when he thinks you've finished, you loosen the towel and let it fall to the floor.
all the blood rushes out of his head—watching your hands massage in lotion to the soft skin of your stomach, your back, finally stopping at your tits before you're out of his eyeshot. when you get back in, you're holding clothes in your hand, slipping into a big t-shirt and a pair of panties. he can even make out their blue color from how hard he's staring.
it's a little late—the sun's gone down but your room is still illuminated with light. he sees you crawl into your bed, getting under the covers and picking up a book from the nightstand. like an idiot, he keep staring until you turn your lamp off and go to bed, and like an idiot, he's still hard.
the next morning—after an entire evening spent trying to resist staring at your sleeping form—he goes downstairs to ask someone about you.
"who's the new neighbor?" rafe tries to ask it but it comes out more like a demand—wheezie looks up at him confused and sarah ignores him.
"huh?" his younger sister questions back, looking up from her breakfast. "what new neighbor?"
"on the pool side. saw a new girl. when did they move in?"
"what are you talking about, rafe?" sarah says. "she's always lived there. how are you this ignorant?"
"well, i've never fuckin' seen her before-" he thinks he's starting to get a little angry—maybe more at himself. how is it that he's never seen you before? how is it that you're dumb enough to leave a window uncovered enough for him to stare at you all night, naked, no less?
"dad said the neighbor's tree fell into a window. that's why he's getting the one by their room cut down, they said it was really bad-"
"that's so horrible. the tree was there first-"
rafe steps away, back up to his bedroom and his view of you. you're not there now, he saw you leave the room earlier. he can't help it—he wonders where you went.
that night, the same thing happens. it's terrible—he even turns the light off in his bedroom so you don't get alarmed. you come in around seven, talking on the phone with someone, juggling ice cream and shopping bags. you hang up the phone a little later, putting on something on your television and eating the ice cream from your bed.
he should've stopped looking the second you lick melting ice cream from your fingers, but he doesn't. he watches you pick up your towel and walk away, coming back wrapped in it just like yesterday. same as then, you put on lotion, taking extra time to blowdry your hair. you don't read tonight—probably too tired, he guesses—and go straight to bed. after he's sure you're asleep, he flicks his light back on.
it goes on for longer than he realizes, longer than he expects. it's fun watching your little routine, how oblivious you are to the fact that he's watching it. and you seem nice—sweet, even, with the way you smile brightly whenever your parents come into your room, the way you swing your feet when you're on the phone.
he does a little more digging—true to what his idiot sisters said, you've lived in this house forever. you've been a few hundred feet away this entire time.
like every night—he flicks off his bedroom light at eight. you bounce in, doing everything you always do, exactly the way you always do it. something seems different though—you don't seem tired, crawling into your yellow sheets a little too early.
rafe stands up so fast when he realizes what you're doing, he almost knocks his chair flat to the ground. one hand snaking into your panties—pink tonight—and the other under your t-shirt, you rock against your hands. your room is only lit up with the light of a faint lamp, but it's enough for him to see everything—the way your face contorts into pleasure, the moan you try to muffle with the back of your hand, when you finally cave and take off your shirt.
he keeps staring, about as hard as he's ever been, watches you give up on your hand and fold a pillow in half instead, mounting it and giving him the show he didn't realize he'd been waiting for. and fuck, it's perfect, exactly how he thought you'd be.
rafe doesn't realize he's doing it, palming himself before giving in and taking out his dick, angry and red already, watching you. his own strokes match your pace against the pillow, and it doesn't take long at all—you cum with your head pressed against your sheets and he cums into his hand, so close to the window his breath fogs up the glass.
he gives in twice more—repeating the events of that night when you touch yourself again. the other times he's content just to watch you, not sure when that become such a pleasure in and of itself.
one night you come home with some shopping bags—nothing new. you strip down and try on a pretty white dress with orange flowers, tight where it needs to be yet nothing you couldn't wear around family. you twirl around your room, and then call someone on the phone.
he doesn't know how the thought gets in—maybe because your window was a little cracked and his was open all the way, sound traveling through the window and the words he hears leads to the idea of you, going on a date with someone else, in that dress, plants itself in his mind.
rafe paces around his room, not even caring if you see. you can't go on a date, not with anyone but himself, and the very idea that you'd do something like that makes him angry. it's irrational, though he hardly cares, all he can think about is how to make sure it doesn't happen.
the next night—saturday—you get dolled up, though rafe's not there to watch this time. you put on makeup and even do your hair all pretty, slipping into the dress and tidying your room before making your way downstairs. your date said he'd swing by around seven to get you—and though he didn't seem the type, he was already ten minutes late.
you wait on your front porch for another ten, before deciding to send a text. it bounces back. you call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. with the bitter realization that you've been stood up almost twenty minutes later, you're about to go back inside with watery eyes, when you hear the sound of footsteps in the distance.
"hi, is that you?" you call out uncertainly into the night. your porch lights are dim, only giving you a little glimpse of a man walking towards your home from the street. but he's not coming from your driveway—he's coming from the side, from the cameron house.
when he gets closer, you see that it's rafe cameron—the boy you've been living next to for years but haven't ever spoken to. even if you didn't know your neighbors and his sisters, you'd still remember him—you only nursed a crush on him for years.
"rafe?"
"hey, kid. what're you doin' out here all alone?"
"i.." you stop yourself short—you don't want to tell him you've been waiting for your date, it feels wrong. "i was just waiting for someone. um, what're you-" rafe doesn't let you finish.
"yeah, he's not comin'. not tonight, not ever."
"what?" nervous, frightened, your knees start to shake, feeling like you need to get far away right now.
"i said he's not coming. neither is anyone else. not goin' on any dates. get inside and get upstairs."
"rafe?" you question again, big eyes staring at your neighbor, fearful and confused.
"are you gonna make me repeat myself?" he asks, and almost automatically, you shake your head, complying, but still don't move. "go to your room."
you dart inside. rafe can hear your feet sprinting up the stairs. he turns off your porch light and walks inside your house, up the stairs, until he's face to face with your door with his hand on the knob. he twists, realizing you left it unlocked.
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chocsra · 5 months
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"Held like Glass, Kissed Alike"
chuuya x fem! reader - how he holds you 🙇‍♀️
a/n: to all my physical touch bbgs 🫶
content: how chuuya holds you, kissing, holding hands, fluff, drabble/small oneshot, smug! chuuya, soft! chuuya, not proofread, prolly grammar errors
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"chuuya! hold my bag while you're at it!"
'cocky demands from a cocky person', chuuya thinks. "tsk," he tuts--the downpour of rain at the moment was horrific, especially in a city, a populated, developed, city drowned in sad puddles of slushy water. you and your trusted friend, chuuya nakahara, had came to go shopping, and unbeknownst to the subsequent downfall, you both stupidly didn't bring an umbrella.
so when the rain fell, he swiftly grabbed the closest umbrella in one of the restaurant's stands, successfully covering the both of you. chuuya is one of your close friends, and even though he's slightly annoyed most of the time and yaps a whole lot, he's also decently reliable.
you on the other hand, felt like you needed to make his life worse, a living hell. wanting to feel like those clingy girlfriends in romcoms, you pulled down your purse and dramatically handed it to him. watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "might as well hold my bag while you're at it!" and yes, even with a baffled scoff, the redhead still held your bag for the rest of the day.
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"i just realised, why do you always wear gloves?"
a romantic tune of jazz sung in the air, fancy clinks and clanks of cutlery swang past as you and your now fellow date, chuuya nakahara, sat in one of the finest restaurants in yokohama.
the ginger chews on his food intently, elbow planted on the table as he takes two gloved fingers, and motions you to come closer. you cock a brow, leaning forward, ear facing him.
"got a nasty case of athletes foot, but on my fingers." that's one way to swoon you, great work chuuya. the mafioso wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically watching as you sink away back into your seat. "thank you s'much," you reply, now picking at your food, "think I just lost my appetite."
the redhead snickers and pinches the tip of his gloves in between his teeth, removing it. "I'm joking, here." he smirks, a large hand urging you to place yours atop of his. you follow, feeling the warmth of his palms spread to yours, his hands were pretty damn big, bigger than a lot of men despite of his height.
"you like holding hands, hm?" the mafiosos smirks playfully as you try to hide the big smile creeping on your lips. he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, gently looking as the moonlight illuminates your eyes focused on your hands. chuuya felt damn lucky he could ever get someone to look at him like that. the redhead darts his eyes back to you and your interlocked hands, whispering, "i do too, it's okay." even though chuuya was a terrifying mafia executive, he couldn't help but hide the boyish smile as he held your hand in between his fingers, feeling as your soft skin smooths over his rarely bare, lithe hands.
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"this is rush hour in public transit, would ya look at that?"
you beam a light-hearted smile at the redhead beside you, in one of the most crowded subways. sweat and humid air pierced through, and so did the amount of space you could breathe in. chuuya nakahara, your newly and beloved boyfriend, hasn't taken public transportation in years. so he wasn't used to the crushing claustrophobia of other people at all, you, on the other hand seemed rather desensitized to it. smiling and rambling about how 'it's not that bad'. the redhead could only scoff in return, his right hand tightening on the bar for support.
"actually," you continue, clutching your purse in your left hand, "you haven't been here in a while, have you?" you smirk teasingly, causing chuuya to groan in annoyance at your words. the subway doors opening yet again, "well, consider this your fir--"
a new line of bustling people rammed into the compartment, as they filled the station, you stepped back in oblivion, almost seperating you and your fellow company. but with a calculated pull, chuuya hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, thumb rubbing at your side.
the mafioso lets out a dramatic sigh, "yeah, well? continue?" you look at him in a surprised gaze, eyes darting to the hand still tugged around your waist, even as the sea of other people weren't in threat of a stampede anymore. you felt a knot twist in your stomach as chuuya cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "shit, well, now i forgot."
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"opinion on people who sleep with socks on?"
you weren't so used to grand gestures in general, but every month your boyfriend, chuuya nakahara, surprised you with something new just because you could deal with his shit. this month, he took you stargazing, with a small theme park next to your designated spot. neon arcade lights reflected off your face and eyes as he took a gloved hand and brushed away some strands with an ever soft graze of his fingers.
you, feeling foreign to the affectionate brush of his fingers, smile tugging at his lips, eyes rested on yours, asked the most random and stupid question that popped in your head. "what's your opinion on people who sleep with socks on?" the ginger chuckles softly at your question, still cupping your cheek, watching as your eyes drag away to anything but him. "shut up already." chuuya smiles boyishly, which reminds you of his raw humanity every once in a while. you hum in a quipped agreement before stiffling a laugh.
"happy not-so-ani-aniversary, pretty girl." chuuya's pillowy lips come down on your left cheek, leaving a soft peck as his thumbs grazes against the side of your face. his lips then connect to your right cheek, making your pinch one of your eyes shut as the redhead pecks your nose. uncontrollably smiling as you giggle, pushing your hair to the side as he presses his soft lips against your forehead, bringing yourselves down.
the mafioso brings you in closer, "i love you." he mutters, as he connects your lips to his. a soft fluttering in his stomach occurs as he feels you smile against his lips, taking his fingers in between your hair as he smooths through it. he was truly enamoured, enchanted, beyond bewitched. chuuya took in how good it feels to have you, a girlfriend, an asshole, a companion.
from every place he held, it was always just you. chuuya knew, that if his fingers fit so perfect in the interlocking of yours, curled around your waist, or cupping your cheek, he was meant to hold you. to be yours, as they say.
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a/n: sorry for my vanishing bbgs, ill upload more at christmas break😔😔
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seraphic-saturn · 7 months
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Leo in Houses : What makes you proud?
1st House (Self-Image): Radiant Confidence
Leo in the 1st house illuminates your self-image with an irresistible charisma and a resolute sense of pride. You possess a magnetic aura that commands attention and admiration, effortlessly drawing others to your captivating presence. Your unique identity radiates with an unyielding confidence that captivates those around you, leaving an indelible mark of distinction and self-assurance. You take great pride in your natural leadership qualities and your innate ability to shine in any situation, fostering an environment where your individuality becomes an inspiration for others to follow.
2nd House (Material Wealth): Regal Abundance
With Leo gracing your 2nd house, you derive pride from your luxurious lifestyle and financial security. You take great joy in the opulence you've meticulously cultivated, displaying your prosperity to the world with a regal flair. Your indulgent tastes and penchant for the finer things in life reflect your inherent desire for comfort and extravagance, and you feel a deep sense of satisfaction in surrounding yourself with tangible symbols of your success. Your unwavering confidence in your ability to create and maintain wealth projects an image of abundance and prosperity that is not only tangible but also serves as a source of inspiration for those around you.
3rd House (Communication): Expressive Brilliance
With Leo gracing your 3rd house, you possess a unique and vibrant communication style that fills you with a sense of pride. Your eloquence and expressive nature captivate those around you, making you a compelling storyteller and an engaging conversationalist. You take immense delight in articulating your ideas with flair, infusing your words with passion and confidence, leaving a lasting impression on your listeners. Your intellectual prowess and persuasive charm allow you to effortlessly convey complex concepts in a way that is both enlightening and entertaining, establishing you as a magnetic force of expressive brilliance that effortlessly commands attention and respect.
4th House (Home and Family): Majestic Roots
Leo gracing your 4th house signifies your profound pride in your nurturing role within your family and the sense of warmth you instill in your home. You derive immense joy from creating a secure and loving environment, one that serves as the cornerstone of familial unity and love. Your regal demeanor and natural leadership qualities make you the pillar of strength, fostering closeness and admiration among your loved ones. Your dedication to providing a stable and affectionate space allows your family to thrive, with you at the helm, radiating a majestic aura of protection, love, and unwavering support that forms the very roots of your familial harmony and pride.
5th House (Creativity): Theatrical Inspiration
With Leo illuminating your 5th house, your creative passion ignites like a radiant stage spotlight. You find an immense sense of pride in your artistic talents, reveling in the opportunity to express yourself in grand and dramatic ways. Your creative pursuits take center stage, captivating your audience with a unique flair that demands attention and admiration. Your vibrant and expressive nature infuses your artistic endeavors with a theatrical inspiration that sets you apart, drawing the spotlight toward your dynamic and compelling expressions of creativity. You bask in the glow of your own artistic ingenuity, finding validation and fulfillment in the profound impact your creativity has on those who have the privilege of witnessing your imaginative brilliance.
6th House (Work Ethic): Mighty Efficiency
With Leo gracing your 6th house, you take immense pride in your strong work ethic and unwavering dedication to your responsibilities. Your reliability and competence shine brightly, earning you well-deserved recognition and admiration. You approach your tasks with a sense of majesty, infusing every duty with a regal touch that sets you apart as a paragon of efficiency and capability. You find deep satisfaction in the praise you receive for your diligence, reveling in the acknowledgment of your unyielding commitment to excellence. Your mighty presence in the realm of work and responsibility serves as a powerful inspiration for those around you, fostering an atmosphere of productivity and professionalism that reflects your stellar work ethic and steadfast determination.
7th House (Partnerships): Royal Allegiance
Leo gracing your 7th house infuses your partnerships with a sense of regal pride and unwavering commitment. You find immense joy in providing steadfast loyalty and unwavering support to your partner, valuing the sense of commitment and dedication that underpins your relationship. Your affectionate nature and generous spirit create an environment of mutual adoration and respect, fostering a connection that is built on a foundation of admiration and devotion. You expect your noble and affectionate gestures to be met with admiration and validation, seeking acknowledgment for your unwavering allegiance and the regal presence you bring to the sacred bond of partnership.
8th House (Challenges): Courageous Resilience
With Leo gracing your 8th house, you find pride in your unwavering ability to face and overcome life's challenges with a dignified and courageous spirit. Your unwavering emotional fortitude serves as a source of strength, enabling you to confront even the most daunting of adversities with grace and resilience. You take profound satisfaction in the admiration earned from your ability to navigate difficult situations, inspiring those around you with your unwavering resolve and regal composure. Your courageous approach to life's trials and tribulations serves as a powerful testament to your inner strength and fortitude, setting you apart as a beacon of hope and inspiration for those who witness your dignified journey through the darkest of storms.
9th House (Philosophy): Noble Wisdom
With Leo gracing your 9th house, you derive immense pride from your vast knowledge and profound philosophical insights. Your intellectual pursuits and expansive understanding of the world fill you with a sense of noble wisdom that is both enlightening and inspiring. You take great pleasure in sharing your wealth of knowledge with others, reveling in the profound impact your teachings have on those seeking guidance and enlightenment. Your regal approach to imparting wisdom and motivation serves as a beacon of hope and inspiration, uplifting those around you with your profound insights and your unwavering commitment to the pursuit of truth and enlightenment.
10th House (Career): Glorious Achievement
With Leo gracing your 10th house, you channel your ambitious drive for professional success and recognition with a regal grace. You take immense pride in your leadership qualities and your unwavering dedication to achieving greatness in your chosen field. Your unyielding pursuit of excellence and your authoritative presence demand acknowledgment and admiration from your peers and superiors. You approach your career with a resolute determination to leave a lasting impact, establishing yourself as a beacon of inspiration and influence. Your professional achievements stand as a testament to your regal stature, symbolizing the heights of success and recognition that are the hallmark of your illustrious career journey.
11th House (Friendships): Influential Magnetism
With Leo gracing your 11th house, you bask in the influential role you hold within your social circle. You take immense pride in your ability to lead and inspire others toward shared goals and aspirations, radiating a magnetic charisma that captivates and motivates those around you. Your unwavering confidence and regal presence make you a natural guiding force, and you derive deep satisfaction from the admiration earned through your charismatic guidance. You revel in the harmonious camaraderie and shared vision that flourishes within your friendships, symbolizing the profound impact and lasting legacy you create through your influential magnetism within your social network.
12th House (Spirituality): Majestic Resilience
With Leo gracing your 12th house, you find pride in your inner strength and profound resilience, which serve as your guiding light through personal struggles. You derive joy from conquering life's challenges with grace and courage, drawing upon your majestic resilience to overcome even the most daunting of obstacles. You seek validation and fulfillment in your profound emotional endurance and spiritual nobility, viewing each hardship as an opportunity for personal growth and spiritual enlightenment. Your regal approach to navigating the depths of your subconscious mind and spiritual journey serves as a testament to your unwavering strength and the noble grace with which you face the trials and tribulations that come your way.
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504py · 2 months
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Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader
A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.
i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!
Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.
1, 2, 3
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.
Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.
You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.
Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.
His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.
"Of course, my lady."
You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.
He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"
"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.
He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.
"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.
"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."
"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."
He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.
"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."
He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.
He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.
"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.
"What is, my lady?"
"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"
"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."
"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.
Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."
"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.
He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.
"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.
"Yes, milady?"
"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.
"You as well, my lady. Good night."
He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.
Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.
"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
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eggluverz · 8 months
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LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS
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PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader
WORD COUNT. 638
SUMMARY. dan heng has an extreme fear of the dark and the astral express experiences a power outage. thankfully, you are there to help him through this.
SOF'S NOTE. thank you anon for this request!! :) i don't know anyone with nyctophobia myself so i hope i wrote it well enough! enjoy some hurt/comfort with dan heng,, i wanna craddle him gently in my arms :>
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The Astral Express was known for being a fairly sturdy and reliable train. With close inspection and careful maintenance, it was natural to expect relatively smooth performance. 
That was why Dan Heng was rather taken aback when a power outage took place. 
The two of you were in the Archives, researching different topics of choice when he was suddenly no longer able to see the words in front of him. The room turned black and the only faint glow he could pinpoint was the small light from your phone screen. 
Instantly, he felt suffocated. He looked towards the direction of his nightlight that normally brought him solace, only to see nothing but darkness due to the lack of electricity. Dan Heng’s breathing picked up as his chest grew heavy. He started to forget where he was and what he was doing— Instead being forced back to his moments in imprisonment, solitude, torture. He grew more and more panicked as his thoughts spiraled, unable to anchor himself to reality. 
“Dan Heng?” he heard a faint voice, only slightly shaking him out of his thoughts. “Dan Heng…” 
His name was repeated once more, but Dan Heng couldn’t process a thing with his eyes squeezed shut and his ears ringing. Everything was muffled and he felt lost. 
Within moments, a gentle touch helped ground him to reality. That feeling was familiar. Warm and comforting. He knew it was you. You were here with him before the blackout, and you were still here. 
“You will be okay, Dan Heng,” you said, voice soft but firm. You wrapped your arms around him in a steady embrace, rubbing circles into his back. “The power will come back soon and it won’t be dark anymore.” 
He nodded, trying to calm himself down. Dan Heng knew that, rationally. Power outages were temporary and, with the quick and efficient attention from Pom-Pom, he knew the problem wouldn’t last for long. Still, it was difficult to let that knowledge be of solace. 
“And while it’s still dark, just remember you aren’t alone here.” You held him closer and he allows his body to lean against yours. “You’re at the Astral Express inside the Archive room. You have me here, and Caelus and March 7th and Pom-Pom are all walking distance away.” 
Dan Heng’s body, though still tense, was able to relax ever so slightly. 
He wasn’t alone. And he hadn’t been transported back to imprisonment. He was here and you were right there next to him. When he finally got himself to open his eyes instead of keeping them strained shut, he was met with your concerned face faintly illuminated by your phone screen. 
When his gaze met yours, you smiled. 
“Look,” you said, gesturing to the small light. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s not complete darkness now.”
Dan Heng pulled you closer into his arms. “It is enough. Thank you.” 
The dark may cause him extreme anxiety, but throughout it all, at least he had you. 
“I’m sure the power will come back soon,” you reassured, running your hands through his hair with a hopeful look on your face. “But in the meantime, we can go see March 7th’s candle collection! And have Caelus or Himeko light them up for us!” 
Dan Heng managed to let out a small laugh at your efforts 
It wasn’t just you that was here for him. You reminded him that he had a whole community—a big family to fall on. And they were all there for him, too. 
“Thank you,” he said quietly. Dan Heng cupped your cheek and smiled. You returned his gaze and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead, filling him with warmth. 
He had people who would be there for him. But Dan Heng’s favorite little light in the darkness was always you. 
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ja-khajay · 9 months
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hiii! In regards to the "Guillermo del Toro Says “We Have to Rescue” Studio Animation From “Emoji-Style Behavior”" article/statement, do u have examples of animation that specifically is & is not this type of expression/animation? Bc it's rly hard for me to actually picture this and like I need examples ahaha
Disclaimer - I was not at this specific talk, so I don't have the full context and I know from reliable sources - friends of mine that DID attend it - that it's not all he said there, so that article is pretty much only relying spicy chosen bits. That being said, I will focus on this paragraph.
Getting more specific, he went on to detail what he despises about certain lazy proclivities in commercial animation, notably how characters and emotions are “codified into a sort of teenage rom-com, almost emoji-style behavior.” He added, “[If] I see a character raising his fucking eyebrow, or crossing his arms, having a sassy pose — oh, I hate that shit. [Why] does everything act as if they’re in a sitcom? I think it is emotional pornography. All the families are happy and sassy and quick, everyone has a one-liner. Well, my dad was boring. I was boring. Everybody in my family was boring. We had no one-liners. We’re all fucked up. That’s what I want to see animated. I would love to see real life in animation. I actually think it’s urgent. think it’s urgent to see real life in animation.”
What he talks about here is something I find omnipresent in modern American animation, or from studios that are funded by and/or trying to sell to americans (ex: Illumination McGuff). Here del Toro specifically mentions characters and emotions and how they are codified, which would include how characters are written, how animated their emotions and body language are, how they interact... He also mentions studio animation, an important distinction - this does not include indie animators!
A few things, adding * to those he's specifically calling out here, and more of my own that are not stated but I feel match the style
*one liners
*the "dreamworks face"
*sassy attitude
*quick banter
*taking poses
looking into the camera
overtly smooth, cartoony body language
characters explaining their emotions, plot resolutions around this
I will now get to examples, starting by a comparison between two animated films. Both of these films are contemporary, family-audience, french animated films. They share similarities in setting, being medieval fantasy fairytales about female heroes. One of these films was made with an american audience in mind (Pil), and the other caters to a french audience (Dragon Princess). You can compare how the characters act in both trailers:
youtube
youtube
Try and only focus on dialog, body language and expressions, barring art style and story!
Feature films that, in my opinion, also fit that "emoji style behaviour" (* for those I have not fully watched) any why:
Turning Red: the sass, the one liners, body language, camera looking, quick banter, plot resolution with characters explaining their emotions. The whole film fits
Puss in Boots: The last wish: sass, one liners, body language, banter, characters explaining their emotions. Scenes like Puss meeting his past lives and the dog's dialog are strong offenders
The emperor's new groove: sass, one liners, posing, banter
Encanto: sass, posing, banter; the explaining their emotions to drive the plot is ridiculously present to the point where I'd say del Toro was vagueing that one with the family example
Klaus: posing, banter, body language, explaining their emotions
*Nimona: sass, posing, banter, expressions...I only watched the trailer so can't say much but it leans HARD into the rapid fire quip territory with emotional resolution
*Trolls: sass, posing, banter, body language, camera looking...
Regarding films that do not do this, the quick answer would be...watch foreign (=not american) and/or older films. Nowadays with internet a massive catalogue is available, although the USA has such a monopoly on animation via its advertising budget other countries don't have that those films can be harder to find especially if you only use english-speaking internet.
As most studio animation is for a young or family audience and my entire example list above is, I will give some recommendations of films that are also for such an audience, but with older and worldwide picks. Some of these films are fully available on YouTube (although not in english always), so I'll be linking that when possible!
Mom is pouring rain (France, 2020s) (trailer): A shorter film about a little girl sent to live with her grandmother while her mom heals from depression. Has emotions front and center but expressed and animated in a way typical of modern french animation, with cartoony designs but subtler, more "boring" acting
The little prince and the eight headed dragon (Japan, 1960s): Beautifully animated in a style distinct from anime, this is a simple folktale adaptation. Fully on YouTube, albeit in its original english dub who's quality is frankly not great.
Next! (UK, 1990s): Stop motion short by an animator who specifically explores subtler, harder to animate expressions, as well as the art of theater, represented here by a Shakespear puppet playing out his works as a one-man show.
Ramayana (India, 1990s): Animated version of the legend of the same name, coupling a Ghibli art style with your ancient legend's large scale battles and polite heroes.
Ne Zha (China, 2010s)(trailer): that trailer is dead serious, it's actually a pretty damn silly movie! Including this one because as a big CGI animated film it's interesting to compare to what Pixar/Dreamworks/etc is doing.
...I'm realizing that I included a whole lot of animated folk tales so for modern chinese animation I'll also name Legend of Hei (2020s)(trailer), an original fantasy film with indie origins and a whole lot of over the top action.
As for films from the US that do NOT match that style? As a country the US has a rich history of animation asides of Disney! I personally grew up on Tex Avery and Looney Tunes cartoons who (pre-90s) are great examples of this.
For more adult films, I'll link my list of mature animation recommendations!
My ask remains opens for any clarifications :) have a nice day!
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months
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Dashboard Confessional
Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, mild angst, smut, semi public sex. Word count: ~1.7k
Summary: Billy is forced to deal with past trauma when his girlfriend's car breaks down on the side of the M1, while driving home to Nottingham for Christmas. She finds the perfect way to ease his mind.
Author's note: Day four of the Smuffmas prompts - "reassurance and car sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
Her hands tighten on the steering wheel, eyes flitting nervously towards the check engine light that’s just lit up on the dashboard panel. They’re only an hour outside of Nottingham, and if she was by herself she’d simply ignore it, finish the journey, and take her crappy old Skodia Fabia to a garage in the New Year. But Billy sits in the passenger seat next to her, and she knows that that little red light will look like a fiery beacon to him, a reason to panic. The best thing she can do in this situation is pull over onto the hard shoulder and call AA Breakdown Recovery.
Billy used to joke that she’d spent more on keeping her shitty little car roadworthy than she had when she’d actually bought it. He’d insist on driving them everywhere, his Vauxhall Cavalier the more reliable of the two vehicles.
That feels like a lifetime ago now though, before the Explosive Ordnance Disposal team had pulled him from it and it had exploded into a fiery ruin in the middle of Cranstead Gardens. Billy doesn’t joke at all anymore, and he’s not gotten behind the wheel of a car since.
He has spent the last four months attending weekly therapy sessions. It’s only in the last month that he’s been willing to allow her to drive him anywhere, and that’s not before they’ve done rigorous checks of the entire car to make sure it’s safe; the wheel arches, under the bonnet, the boot, beneath the seats and in the glovebox all need to be examined thoroughly before he’ll even consider getting in.
When it had come time to arrange their annual visit to Billy’s parents’ for Christmas, he had suggested they get the train. However, a return ticket would be close to one hundred pounds each for them. She had argued they would spend less than half that on fuel if she drove, and it would save them the effort of lugging gifts all the way there, only to have to take all of the ones they inevitably receive back with them the same way - everything could just be stuffed into the boot if she drove.
He had relented eventually, and she had regretted it almost as soon as they’d gotten in the car. For the last two hours of the journey his leg has bounced anxiously, and she’s been met with snappy one word answers to each of her attempts to make conversation, despite his insistence that the radio stays off.
If she were a weaker person she’d have decided that this was all too much and ended things long ago, however, Billy is her everything, he always has been. He has never thought much of himself, but she loves him enough for the both of them. Where he sees a failure, someone that lives in the shadow of his successful older sister, she sees a man with a thousand watt smile, someone that lights up the room just by entering it. That light has dulled over the last few months, but she is determined to help it shine once more.
It’s with this in mind that she clicks on the left indicator, pulling over onto the hard shoulder, and switches the hazard lights on.
“What you doing?” Billy asks, frowning slightly as he removes his thumb from his mouth, the nail of which he’s been chewing absentmindedly on for the last few miles.
She turns the engine off, turning to him with a slight smile, an attempt to appease and keep him calm. “Check engine light’s come on, I need to ring the AA.”
“Fuck’s sake!” He seethes, unclipping his seatbelt and forcefully pushing open the passenger side door.
She watches him, illuminated in the darkness by the motorway lights, rounding the car, before stepping over the crash barrier and onto the grassy verge. Sighing, she unbuckles and climbs out.
“Billy–”
“I told you we should’ve got the fucking train!” He shouts, though there is no anger in his tone, she hears it in the wobble of his voice, sees it in the barely concealed tears he’s attempting to hold back. He’s close to breaking down.
“I know, babe, and I’m sorry,” she soothes, “I should have listened to you. But I promise you it’s nothing serious. You know how this old shitheap gets when it’s damp, remember last time it rained and the electric windows stopped working?”
It’s an attempt to lightheartedly downplay his fears, but it’s obviously unsuccessful. She watches as he fishes his cigarette packet from the pocket of his jogging bottoms, pulling one out and lighting it with shaky hands.
She takes out her phone and calls the recovery service, straining to hear over the roar of the traffic that speeds past on the M1. It’s going to be a forty five minute wait for anyone to get to them, though she should consider herself lucky, bearing in mind it’s December 23rd and there are cars nationwide breaking down on their way home for Christmas.
When she ends the call and tosses her phone onto the driver’s seat, she turns back to see that Billy is three quarters of the way through his smoke, his gaze downcast as he stands there shivering. The sight makes her heart ache.
“It’s freezing,” she calls out to him, “at least come and get your hoodie.”
She opens the door to the backseat, grabbing his Adidas zip up from it and holding it out to him. His head remains bowed, though his eyes look up at her, before he crushes his cigarette beneath his trainer and slowly walks towards her.
“Thanks,” he says quietly, slipping the hoodie on and perching on the edge of the backseat, facing out of the car, long legs stretched out in front of him.
They remain in silence for a few moments, Billy simply sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, staring at the ground, as she stands before him, looking out towards the steady stream of cars, eyes narrowed at the oncoming headlights that rush by.
“How long until you get fed up?” He finally asks, looking up at her.
“Well, I’m fed up already,” she jokes, “but we’ve gotta sit tight until someone comes to get us.”
He huffs a humourless laugh through his nose, lips quirking upwards slightly as he shakes his head. “You know that’s not what I mean. How much more of me can you hack before you finally decide I’m not worth the effort?”
“Oi,” she chastises playfully, ruffling a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. “To me, you will always be worth the effort. I’m not going anywhere.”
Billy bends his legs at the knees, planting his feet flat on the floor and pulls her between them as his arms wrap around her waist. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she says gently. “It’s been a rough few months, but we’ll get through it.
“God, I love you,” he tells her, stroking his palm across her cheek.
“Tell me again,” she smiles, leaning down to bump her nose against his.
“Love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips to hers.
She kisses back, expecting it to be quick and chaste, but gasps in surprise as his hand slides from her face into her hair, gripping and anchoring her to him, as his tongue slips into her mouth. He tastes faintly of tobacco, but she responds eagerly as their mouths move together, the sensation sending heat pooling between her legs.
He leans back against the backseat, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside, dragging her with him. She giggles, pulling away breathlessly.
“Billy, we’re on the side of the motorway, anyone could see us!”
“Best give them something good to look at then,” he grins lazily up at her, fingers tugging at the waistband of her leggings.
It’s been so long since he was this uninhibited and spontaneous, that that’s all the encouragement she needs. She scrambles to pull them from one leg, as Billy lifts his hips, pushing his jogging bottoms and boxers down just enough to free his cock.
As she hovers back over him, his fingers move to push her thong to one side, and she can’t help but smile into the crook of his neck. He’s not even fully hard, though his pushes against her entrance are quickly rectifying that.
There’s no time for either of them to prepare each other properly, not for a quickie on the side of the road, so when the head of him does finally breach her opening the intrusion steals her breath away.
She whines, as each slow withdrawal and thrust upwards from him pushes him deeper, her rapidly gathering slick helping to ease his passage, until he’s fully sheathed inside of her.
He pants along with her when she moans helplessly against his shoulder as he pistons up into her, holding her steady by her hips. The tight confines of the car make it so that every drag of his cockhead brushes against the sweet spot inside of her, making her involuntarily tighten around him.
His pace becomes rushed, sloppy, and the feeling of him pulsating inside of her sends her toppling over the edge, white hot sparks of pleasure shooting through her as she spasms around him. His fingers dig into the meat of her hips as he pushes up one final time, emptying himself into her with a groan.
She shifts to move off of him, but he grips tighter, keeping her where she is. “Don’t,” he whispers breathlessly, eyes closed.
“I need to put my leggings back on, babe,” she chuckles, “I don’t think the AA bloke will appreciate the sight of my bare arse.”
“We’ve got time,” he murmurs, pulling her back to him, stroking her hair. “Just stay like this for a minute.”
She squirms, the chill of the air on her naked skin and his spend leaking out of her around his softening length making her uncomfortable, but she stays where she is. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, slowly blinking open his eyes. “It’s just…this is the first time I’ve been in a car where I haven’t thought about something horrible happening.”
Her gaze softens, and she pecks him on the cheek. “That’s good. So, what were you thinking about?”
“You, just you.”
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silvergyus · 3 months
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hii!! hope ur doing great!!
i was going to ask for some fluffy hueningkai smut for the valentines day event :)) i need more fics about him being infatuated w chubby women?
lessons in chemistry
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pairing: hueningkai x fem!reader
summary: kai has been harboring a not-so-secret crush on his study buddy all year. what will happen when he gets an unexpected text asking if you can stay the night?
warnings: college au, friends to lovers, only one bed trope, reader is a few years older than kai ("noona" is not used), kai is a lil pervy, chubby!reader, reader's pubes are mentioned exactly once, experienced!reader, a teeeeny bit of dubcon (just over the clothes teasing), fingering (y/n receiving), protected sex
word count: 5,200+
author’s note: requested as part of my valentine's event 🏹💘 tysm for requesting!! I got a lil obsessed with this one and I really hope you like it!
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
Kai had been infatuated with you since the start of last semester. The two of you sat near one another for a large science lecture. It was a gen-ed filler class for the both of you that you were just trying to get out of the way. Kai was a first year music major and you had just switched majors from fine arts to liberal arts and suddenly found yourself in need of a few more required science credits.
He fell in love with you the first moment he saw you, sitting down a row ahead of him in the dim lecture hall, the low light illuminating your features. Twice a week for three weeks he admired you fondly from his unofficial assigned seat. His notes were often lacking- sentences missing from the slides that he forgot to copy down while lost in the thought of you instead. You were the highlight of the dull class for him. He’d never forget the way his heart almost leaped out of his chest when you finally turned around to smile at him. Your smile was warm and inviting as you asked him to be your partner for an assignment. He’d never been particularly suave, but the stumbling, stuttered “yes, of course” he replied with was enough to make him want to curl up in a ball. But you just giggled, your laugh like music, accepting it in stride.
From that day on he was your study buddy, never missing a library date. The two of you worked on assignments together, studied for exams and shared snacks late into the night.
You grew close over the course of the semester, inside jokes blossoming between the two of you. You were older, more organized than he was. You knew your way around campus and the city and you were eager to offer your advice. You laughed at his jokes and loved to hear the recordings he made of his guitar and piano playing. As friendship grew between the two of you, so did his feelings for you.
Anxiety swirled in his head as winter finals approached, unsure of whether or not you’d be in the same lab section as him in the spring. He worried that if you weren’t, he’d lose his chance to talk to you. When you told him your schedule- classes aligning perfectly with his- he almost hugged you then. Relief flooded his chest, thankful for the chance to see you twice a week for an additional four months.
His friends had caught on to the fact that he was crushing on someone; they saw the way his eyes lit up when certain notifications flashed on his screen. They had been nudging him to invite you to study at the dorm, even promised to clean it so he wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring you by. But you lived off campus in your own apartment. Why would you ever want to hang out in his shared dormitory? No, he’d just keep doing what he was doing: being your cute and reliable study buddy.
----
You knew Kai had a crush on you.
It was obvious in the way he texted you back immediately, even when you knew he’d swipe away notifications for the rest of his friends. Obvious in the way he shifted in his seat if you leaned over his shoulder to look at his notes. Obvious in the way he practically vibrated out of the chair the first time you decided to sit next to him in the lecture hall instead of a row ahead. He always brought your favorite snacks and packed your favorite drinks when you met up for study sessions. You couldn’t remember telling him what your favorites were either, he just paid attention like that.
You didn’t mind, in fact, you liked having the cute boy’s attention. Kai was tall and broad and dorky and shy, but you had gotten him to open up to you, bloom like a flower into sharing his silly and passionate self. Kai was a good friend and a bit of an ego boost as well. Here was this tall boy with sharp cheekbones who cared about your thoughts and opinions. So, so what if you caught him staring down your shirt when he was supposed to be copying your notes? It's not like you hadn't stared at his ass in his jeans more than a few times.
And truth be told, you really did need him as a study buddy.
----
The cool of winter was slipping away to spring, first flowers peaking their heads out of the damp earth. Kai was losing his mind.
His friends had figured out more about you and the extent of his devastating crush and were making bets on how he would fumble you. Beomgyu had struck a particularly sensitive nerve with the simplicity of his bet: that Kai would just never get the nerve to ask you out for more than a library study session. It was stupid and it wouldn’t normally piss him off, but he was scared that they were right. He didn’t want to miss his chance with you.
You had become really important to him over the course of the school year and he couldn’t stand the thought of you just being a class friend, someone he lost after finals ended. He already experienced that anxiety when he worried about your spring schedule, but had lucked out despite his inaction. He wasn’t sure what he’d do now that the end of the school year was approaching.
----
The soft patter of rain filled the spaces in between notes as Kai worked on his piano final composition. He knew how the piece started, and how it ended, but he struggled to find the perfect rhythm to pull it together. He had been locked in his room for hours, long fingers dancing over the keys again and again, trying out new arrangements and then scrapping them when they weren’t right.
Nothing was right. Dejected, he pushed his chair away from his keyboard, pulling off his headphones and huffing as he reached for his phone, needing a distraction. He frowned when he saw two missed calls from you and a string of worried texts.
Hey soooo….
I left my bag in my ta’s office and I they won’t answer any of my emails and I don’t have their number
and my keys were in my bag….
and now I can’t get in my apartment 😅
and all my other friends are out of town..
can I please stay with you?
Kai called you immediately. You picked up on the second ring.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.
“Kai! Oh my gosh you called me back! Thank you so much, I wasn’t sure-”
“You can stay here.” He said quickly.
“You mean it?”
“Yes.” He was organizing his room as you spoke, throwing dirty clothes in the hamper and wrapping up charging cables. “Do you know which building I’m in?”
“I think so. I’m actually not too far away.”
Kai could hear the rain as you spoke, muffling your voice. “Oh gosh, do you have an umbrella?”
You laughed sarcastically. “Haha, no, but I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you come down to let me in?”
“Yes, yes I’ll be there. Do you need me to stay on the phone?”
“No, uh, it’s actually getting kinda really wet. I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”
“Okay, stay safe. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
You hung up and Kai immediately ran to his roommates to fill them in.
----
You were soaked head to toe when you walked into the small lobby of Kai's dorm building. He was nervously shifting his weight between his feet as he waited for you to arrive. His voice was laced with worry when he ran over to you, asking how you were doing the second you walked through the double doors. His worry was cute. You liked how much he cared.
“I’m okay, just cold.”
The elevator ride up to the dorm Kai shared with Taehyun and Beomgyu was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the patter of droplets falling from your clothes onto the floor. You hadn’t met either of his roommates yet, but you’d heard stories. You weren’t sure if you’d meet either of them tonight either, but all you really wanted to do was change out of your soaked clothes and go to bed.
Kai apologized for things being messy before opening the door, but he had no need. The small shared space was cleaner than expected for three college-aged boys. Each had their own room and then a shared kitchen and bathroom. You followed Kai to his narrow bedroom.
His standard-issue twin xl was filled with plushies, a grey bunny which was clearly the oldest and most well-loved sat in a place of honor in the very front. It made you smile, this display of softness. Beside the bed was his desk and keyboard just beyond that. The space was cozy with the low light of a singular bedside lamp.
You turned around to face the room’s owner where he stood in the doorway, suddenly awkward in his own space. “Cute room. I like your plushies.”
Red blush immediately tinged his ears. His eyes fell to the floor as he awkwardly laughed. “Haha, yeah um, I can move those.”
“You don’t have to.” The silence between you was still charged from the elevator, but you could barely focus on it with the way the cold rain had settled into your bones. “Um, is it okay if I take a shower? I’m freezing.”
“Oh! Uh, yeah- of course! I have an extra towel. Do you need clothes?” He began to rifle through his drawers. “I think mine will fit you. What do you want?” He was cute the way he looked over at you as if picturing each item in the drawers on your body.
----
Kai sat on his bed anxiously bouncing his leg as he waited for you to finish in the bathroom. He was trying his best to suppress the thought of you in the shower, water falling over your curves. He shook his head, trying and failing to shake out the thought of the river of soapy bubbles running between your breasts, trailing down over your plush tummy. But even if he shook that thought, there was still the fact that you would exit the shower and put on his clothes and then get in his bed. His head was spinning with possibilities.
His leg was bouncing fast enough for it to start to cramp by the time you walked into his room. His ears burned as he took you in. His dark pullover clung to your figure, settling at your hips. You smiled at him before turning to hang your towel on the back of his door. Oh no, he thought. He had fished an old pair of basketball shorts out of his drawer for you to sleep in since your clothes were hung precariously in the bathroom in an attempt to dry them. The fabric was stretched tight around your hips and ass, leaving little to his imagination. He stifled a groan at the sight when his hoodie rode up to show the dimples on your back as you reached up to throw the damp towel over the hook.
You looked so good in his clothes it made his head spin. He wanted to see you in his clothes all the time, wanted you to show everyone you were his. Wanted you to be his for real.
He was sure he looked like a wreck when you turned around, cocking your head to ask what he was thinking. “I um, did you- did you eat?”
“Yeah, I ate dinner before I saw my TA.” You sat down beside him on the bed. He could feel the warmth radiating off your skin from your hot shower. “Actually, um, I know it’s kind of early, but this whole thing has been really stressful and I’m just really tired.”
“Yeah, that’s okay. I’m sorry this happened to you.” He practically vibrated when you rested your head against his shoulder, not even caring if his shirt got wet.
“Not your fault.” Your voice was soft. “Thank you for letting me crash. I can’t tell you how much it means.”
“It’s no problem. I’d do anything if you asked.” Kai wasn’t sure how much he wanted you to read into that sentence.
----
The two of you talked for a bit before a big yawn prompted Kai to ask you about sleeping. He insisted that he’d sleep on the floor for you to take his bed. You argued back that you could take the floor since it was his room and just one night wouldn’t hurt you but he wouldn’t budge. You finally conceded and found yourself tucked under his covers next to his army of plushies.
The room was dark except for the dim glow of campus peeking through the blinds and the multicolor lights of his pc that lit the space with a shifting neon hue. You rolled over to peak over the edge. Kai was laying on the floor face up, hands over his chest. He was wide awake and his eyes immediately found yours. “Hey,” he whispered, “you should be sleeping.”
You couldn’t stand the fact that he was sleeping on the hard floor, shitty dorm carpet against his back and a throw blanket the only thing to keep him warm. This was his room after all. And beyond the injustice of kicking him out onto the cool floor, you didn’t want to let the opportunity to be wrapped up in his strong arms pass you by. “Can you please come up here?” You could see his eyes widen and before he had the chance to argue you used the line he couldn’t refuse. “I’m still really cold.”
He sputtered cutely, looking for words. “Are you sure?”
You kept your voice quiet as you pleaded; “Please Kai.”
He didn’t say anything as he stood up and climbed into the small bed. You moved to the far edge of the mattress, positioning yourself against the wall. You wondered how he slept comfortably here each night, his large frame filled up most of the narrow space, and you doubted that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge. With your body taking up space too, there was no way for the two of you to not touch.
Kai was shy with his actions, reverting back to the unsure boy you met at the beginning of the school year. “Um, uh- is this okay?” He asked as he gingerly settled his arm across your waist.
“Yes, perfect.” You backed up to snuggle into his broad chest. Heat radiated off of him, warming you instantly. “Mmmm, you’re so warm.”
----
Your body fit against Kai's like his matching puzzle piece. His arm slotted perfectly in the space between your tummy and chest. He felt like he was made to hold you just like this. This moment was perfect, everything he could've asked for after pining after you for months. He could breathe in the scent of your skin and hair, still slightly damp from the rain and shower. Here you were, in his clothes, in his bed, in his arms. He was on cloud nine. Everything was perfect.
Except for the fact that you kept wriggling your hips against him.
You had to be doing it on purpose. As far as he could tell you were sleeping, but the subtle movements of your ass against his front were driving him crazy. He had backed his hips up as far as he could given the narrow twin bed, but yours had followed. He prayed that you were asleep and wouldn't notice his half-hard dick pressed up against you.
He thought he was in the clear, your hips had slowed and he thought he'd make it through the night without embarrassing himself. He could do this- sleep with you in his arms then get up and jerk off in the morning before you woke up and it would be like nothing happened, like he wasn't cuddled up next to you thinking about how his hand was so, so close to your chest and your ass was so warm against him. He'd savor this moment for what it was and then make his move later. But then you spoke.
“Kai,” your whisper pierced through his thoughts like a hot knife, “are you hard for me?”
His mind blanked. Fuck, he was really in it now.
“It's okay if you are.” Your hand found his, drawing gentle circles on his palm. You continued playing with his fingers as the silence stretched, charged and electric between you. Kai didn't breathe, hanging on for what would happen next. “You know, I've seen the way you look at me.” You wiggled your hips again, slow and deliberate. “Saw the way you blushed when I came in here with your clothes on.”
It felt like Kai was on fire. His body blushed and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. He felt guilty, caught in the act. “I know you have a crush on me Kai.”
He wanted to protest, began to speak a strangled “I-” but you cut him off.
“I have a little crush on you too.”
Your words knocked the air out of Kai's lungs. His head spun. You were in his bed, in his clothes, holding his hand, pressing your ass against his dick on purpose and you liked him back. He felt like he was short circuiting.
He could hear the smile in your voice when you whispered again. “You can touch me if you want.”
----
The silence stretched between you longer than you expected. Part of you worried that you had misread everything, that you had crossed a line. But after what felt like eons Kai's hand finally moved.
His fingers twitched in your grasp, fingers splaying out and holding onto your tummy over the sweatshirt. You were silent as he began to slowly move down, curiously slipping under the thick hem. You drew in a breath quickly when his fingers brushed against your skin. His fingers were slightly calloused from playing guitar, the rough pads of his fingers leaving goosebumps where they explored over your tummy.
“Tell me to stop.” His voice was low in your ear as his hand moved closer to your chest.
You stayed quiet; he ran a finger over the underside of your breast. His movements were slow, cautiously exploring your flesh. He finally reached up to cup your breast, his big hand igniting your nerves where he touched. For a moment he just held you like that, as if he was committing the feel to memory. His first squeeze was more for him than for you, but it felt damn good nonetheless. You let out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling. He squeezed again, spurred on by your encouragement.
“What do you like?” He asked. You whispered back how you liked to be touched and he complied, rubbing and pinching at your nipples while you sighed again. You could feel him fully hard in his sweatpants behind you, the heat of his length and the teasing of your chest making you grow wet in his shorts.
“Kai,” you whined, growing impatient with his touches, wanting more. You ground your hips back against him. You could feel his cock through your shorts and it was making you desperate.
Kai stifled a groan from behind you at your neediness. His hand cautiously moved down from your breasts, pausing to squeeze the plush of your tummy as it ventured down. His fingers paused, dipping just under your waistband to gently stroke your skin there.
----
Kai gasped when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. Of course, he thought. You must've left them to dry with the rest of your clothes. He was hard before, but discovering that you were whiny and needy in his shorts without panties on made him grow impossibly harder.
He reached down, through the soft tuft of hair to find your pussy. You moaned when his fingers finally found your clit. He liked that sound, wanted to hear it again. You spread your legs a little, granting him better access to your body. He dipped his fingers through your soft folds, finding you wet for him. He couldn't help but moan as he explored your heat, coating his fingers in your wetness.
You let out a series of quiet gasps and whines as he teased you, rubbing small circles on your clit and through your folds. He found your entrance after a moment but was nervous to slip his fingers inside. Your impatient hips bucked at his hand and broke his questioning thoughts. He slowly sunk one of his slender fingers into your wet heat. You buried your face in his pillow to stifle your cry when he did. Your noises were like music to his ears and he slowly pumped the finger in and out, relishing the feeling of your walls sucking him in.
“More,” you gasped quietly, “please.”
He obliged, adding a second finger. You were keening now, rocking your hips to meet his hand as it pumped into you. The cheap bedframe squeaked softly with your movements but Kai didn't think it was anything loud enough for his roommates to hear.
You whined when he curled his fingers, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Kai, Kai,” you babbled, desperation dripping from your voice. You were so wet beneath his hand. “Wanna kiss you. Need to kiss you before you make me cum.”
He laughed at that. “What do you mean?” He slowed his movements when you gripped his forearm, but kept his fingers buried in your pussy.
“You're gonna make me cum, but,” your voice was shy as you continued, “I really wanna kiss you. I haven't even kissed you yet.”
Kai felt himself blush at your words. Gosh you were sweet. He smiled and kissed your cheek where he could reach from this position before removing his hand from your shorts.
You were quick to shuffle so you straddled his lap. Your clothed heat rested on his erection, which was almost painfully hard. He could just make out your features in the low light. You were so pretty, smiling down at him. He wanted to kiss you so bad. So when you leaned forward he sat up to meet you.
Your lips were soft against his, the first kiss relatively chaste as you pulled away to admire him. He basked in your gaze, loving the way you looked at him with such affection. When you kissed him again it was deeper.
----
Kai had perfect lips for kissing. He opened up to you like a flower on the second kiss. You traced his bottom lip with your tongue before he parted his lips slightly, granting you access to taste him. He moaned quietly into the kiss, hands settling around you. He brought you closer with the hand on the back of your head and gripped tightly at your ass with the hand that had been playing with your pussy just moments ago.
You shifted in his lap as his tongue explored your mouth. The change in pressure caused him to groan loudly into the quiet of his room. He broke the kiss but stayed close, whispering your name against your lips. “Please, I'm so sensitive right now.” His voice was deep and rough, held back from a full plead.
You smiled and kissed him again. “I've been teasing you for a long time haven't I?” You said, half pouting. You placed your lips right against the shell of his ear as you whispered- “you can fuck me if you want.”
His whine was stifled in his throat but you still caught it. You could feel his cock twitch beneath you at your words. Gosh, he was big. You could properly feel him now that you were straddling him. You didn't want to cum without having kissed him, but his teasing had left you needy and aching for him to fill you up again.
“Please,” was all he said before you nodded, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“Wanna see you. Can I take this off?” He was happy to oblige, nodding before lifting his arms to let you undress him. You pulled his sweatshirt off you, letting him take in the sight of you in the dim light. The two of you sat like that for a moment, admiring each other. His hand reached out to trace over your skin once again, taking in your form in the low light. You did the same, running your fingers over his broad chest and wide shoulders. His hands continued to love on your tummy, more than anyone had done in the past. You found it cute, like most things about him, and appreciated that he seemed to enjoy a part of you you'd often been told to conceal.
Soon enough his hands found the hem of your- his- shorts again. You had to get off his lap to slide them off of you, your wetness clinging to the material as you did. Kai shucked off his bottoms as you did yours and you settled onto his lap again, the both of you fully naked in one another's embrace.
You could feel Kai's heartbeat racing under the hand you held to his chest. “Are you excited?” You teased.
“Y/n,” he started, “I really like you. I've liked you for a long time now. Since I first met you, I've liked you.”
You squeezed his hand, wanting to reassure him that you felt the same. “I really like you too, Kai. For a while now too.” He kissed you again. The kiss was charged with emotion, he poured his feelings into it and you reciprocated.
When the kiss broke you were both breathing hard. “You have a condom, right?” He nodded quickly, reaching to throw open the top drawer of his bedside table. Inside was a full box of unopened foils.
Sliding the condom onto Kai's length made your pussy clench around nothing. He was so big and heavy in your hand. He gasped like it hurt when you first held his cock, his angry tip a leaking mess of precum. He watched you with huge eyes as you rolled it on.
You spit onto your hand, slicking him up through the thin barrier. He couldn't stop the whine that he emitted as you stroked him.
When you finally hovered over his lap again you felt dizzy with anticipation. Kai's fingers had been long and stuffed you full, but his cock was surely going to fill you to the brim. You lined him up at your entrance and began to sink down.
His mouth fell slack when his fat tip pushed past your tight entrance. You took him inch by inch, fighting the urge to just sit on it, forcing yourself to take it slow and adjust. It felt like he was splitting you open. He was bigger than anyone you'd had before. Long and thick, he hit every spot inside of you as you finally rested on his hips, taking him to the hilt. You had to catch your breath.
----
Kai’s eyes were squeezed tight, his breaths heavy. The feeling of being inside of you better than he had imagined. You were so warm, your wet walls holding him so tight even through the latex barrier.
“Kai,” you whispered, rubbing his arm to bring him back to you. “Is this still okay?”
He opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes, yes. Just need a sec.” He was trying his hardest not to cum right there. But you were so beautiful in the shifting hues coming from his pc, the dim light illuminating your features. The moonlight from the crack in the blinds shone on your lashes as you watched him carefully.
“Okay,” he finally said, feeling like he wasn’t about to immediately cum at the slightest sensation. “I’m ready.”
You hummed and kissed him again before leaning back and slowly rolling your hips. His hands flew to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he tried to keep from moaning loudly and alerting his roommates to what was happening. You smiled down at him, speeding up a bit.
He was mesmerized by the way you looked as you rode him. He must’ve looked like a dumbstruck fool the way you giggled at his expression. “You like what you see?”
“Very much. You’re so beautiful.” Your face split into a huge smile and you kissed him again.
“I think you’re pretty beautiful too.” Kai felt himself blush at your words, not used to praise like this.
He wasn’t going to last very long, not with your sweet words and the slow drag of your walls around his cock. He moved his hands from where they rested, exploring the curves of your body, committing them to memory. He’d always had a thing for soft tummies, but your thick thighs, full breasts and even the soft creases of your back all delighted him. His touches spurred you on, your increased enthusiasm pushing him closer to the edge.
“Gonna cum.” He whined.
“Touch me here,” you guided his hand to your clit. “We’ll cum together.”
He fought through the building pressure, gathering your wetness to coat his thumb. A sigh escaped your lips when he rubbed your clit. He easily matched the pace you set with your hip, musician’s muscle memory kicking in.
“I’m so close,” his voice was strained, “gonna-”
His orgasm hit him hard. His hands squeezed hard at your hips as you rode him through his high, chasing after yours. The sounds you made when you came were music, a falling set of whimpers and stutters that washed over Kai like a wave. You slumped into Kai’s chest, aftershocks still causing your pussy to flutter and clench around him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a sweet embrace as you both came down from your highs.
----
You hummed contentedly into the space between Kai’s shoulder and throat. He was warm and strong and all around you. You felt safe and cozy in his arms and completely blissed out from his cock. You knew you needed to clean up but you wanted to savor this moment for as long as you could.
“Hey, y/n,” Kai’s voice was a soft whisper above you. You hummed again in acknowledgement. “Do you think maybe we could go on a date sometime?”
You laughed, burying your face into his chest. Gosh, this boy. You propped yourself up onto your elbow, taking in the beauty of Kai’s features as he looked at you expectantly. “I would love that.” His smile was immediate. “And by the way, you could have asked me at any point in the year and I would’ve said yes.”
You couldn’t quite make out the blush that spread across his cheeks in the low light, but you kissed him again to let him know you meant it. You settled back onto his chest and he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m kind of glad I left my bag in that office now.”
You could feel Kai’s laugh through his chest. “I am too.”
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
taglist: @theresawtf
260 notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 9 months
Note
I just had a bit of a spooky experience, and I was wondering if you could do something fluffy with Aaron and a reader whose afraid of the dark? Just need something sweet and reassuring. Love your stuff xx
hold onto me
omg i'm so sorry i hope you're alright <333 cw; mild descriptions of anxiety and fear of the dark, established relationship
storms were scheduled on the forecast all week, so it was bound to happen at some point. and of course, at the most convenient of times.
aaron and yourself were in the old bau bunker, or as dave strictly corrected you both - the bsu bunker. the two of you were in search of some old files that had been collecting dust, files that would hopefully be helpful and a reliable reference in a project the team was collectively working on.
you had to admit, going through the contents of the room was fascinating. it held an extensive amount of history and memories; it was the literal beginning of the bau and what it has come to be. in addition to the ancient files, both of you would occasionally come across other various items to show one another: old photographs, some of gideon's ancient bird books, and aaron happened to find an old wedding ring lost in a drawer - which you swore had to be one of dave's.
and both related and unrelated, the most important factor to you, the bau had brought you to your aaron.
it was another world down there, so you'd nearly forgotten that it was storming gravely outside. but, a sudden crash of thunder shook the entire building, and the room submitted to darkness faster than you could blink. and it being as old as it was, it didn't contain emergency lights, or windows for that matter, hidden deep in the basement. the two of you were surrounded by a seemingly endless void; you wouldn't even be able to see your hand in front of your face if you tried.
you jumped immediately, the side of your thigh hitting the table and rousing all the items on it, some even clattering to the floor. you didn't even notice the instant ache that shot down your leg, your fear all-consuming.
"shit. stay where you are." you could hear aaron moving about, bumping into things as well as he attempted to make sense of the darkness, and to get to you, fully aware of your intense fear of the dark, "honey, are you alright?"
you didn't answer, eyes squeezed shut as you shrunk back against the closest wall you could find. besides the sounds of aaron cursing under his breath, 'of course my damn phone is in my office' or his reassurances, 'i'm almost there, it's going to be okay', it was deathly silent; so quiet it was almost threatening.
you didn't even realize you were shaking profusely until you were in secure in aaron's arms. he wrapped you tightly in his embrace, your face pressed into his chest as he shielded you. instead of the grimy, stiff smell of the bunker, you were encircled with the familiar scent of aaron, something soft and sweet but still vastly masculine.
"you're okay sweetheart. here, let me..." he reached into your back pocket, finding your phone and turning the flashlight on, unforgotten to yourself in your panicked state. the light illuminated his face, thankfully, but also casted shadows from the furniture and whatnot onto the walls. it made the musty old room more menacing, terrifying.
your fingers gripped onto his dress shirt, closing your eyes once more as your face burrowed into the crook of his neck, searching to be closer, "aaron."
"i know, i know you hate it." he consoled you, one of his hands spanning your back. "stay close, hold onto me."
his hand placement, and the fact you were clinging onto him, allowed him to guide you easily, without you having to remove yourself from him - to be fair, you couldn't even if you tried. he navigated the two of you out, vaguely manhandling you and taking the brunt himself as he ran or tripped into lingering objects. he only had one objective, removing you from the situation as safely and quickly as possible.
once in the hallway, could you finally breathe. the power was still absent, but it was brighter, emergency lights on a bit further down the hall. it took you a second to regain your senses, your heart rate slowing to normal.
aaron's hands cupped your face, his thumbs running against your cheeks gently. his eyes searched yours, lined with concern and a gentleness, "you okay?"
you nodded, pressing your forehead to his for a brief moment.
"you're okay. you're safe." he repeated, in case you needed another reminder, another reassurance. he pressed his lips to yours for a moment, a hand moving to the small of your back, "i'll have dave and reid head down here a bit later instead. let's get you upstairs love."
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least-carpet · 1 month
Note
Maybe a chengxian' meeting post-canon? Platonic or romantic, as you prefer
100 years later, I have given up and concussed Jiang Cheng in the name of love and yunmeng shuangjie reconciliation. You know, if it's not working, give it a smack!
-
This wasn’t precisely the way that he had imagined this reunion going, reflected Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng lay across his lap, blood smeared dark against his forehead, face illuminated by a streak of moonlight.
Not that he’d imagined seeing Jiang Cheng again. Well—not on purpose—sometimes it crossed his mind, when he saw Jin Ling out of the corner of his eye. Something about the posture was very like Jiang Cheng as a teenager, if a little more brash and impulsive. Jiang Cheng had always been more hesitant in public, aware of the eyes on him.
Anyway, it had occurred to him, mostly against his will, when he saw Jin Ling or he smelled the sword oil Jiang Cheng had favoured (still favoured?) or someone mentioned Lotus Pier. He’d flung it away each time for some future version of him to deal with. Now the future was here, and it sucked.
Wei Wuxian squinted at the ray of moonlight. At least they wouldn’t be suffocated. The section of the cave they were trapped in had at least one opening that went up to the outside world.
They had tracked a very strange yao back to the cave where it lived, him and Lan Zhan and the juniors, and crossed paths with a Jiang team led by Jiang Cheng himself following the same kind of yao. Unfortunately, it seemed that they lived in packs. The resulting fight had gone badly. An over-eager hit from Lan Jingyi had smashed one into the wall, and that had triggered a cave-in, and now Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were alone in the dark together behind an enormous pile of rocks. On top of everything else, Jiang Cheng was unconscious, which Wei Wuxian really did not like.
The only thing he could think of to do was prop Jiang Cheng up in his lap and wait for him to come to. He didn’t know what Jiang Cheng would make of it when he woke up, but Wei Wuxian decided that he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
Jiang Cheng groaned and opened his eyes. “What happened?” he asked.
Wei Wuxian looked down at his face, and winced. Those pupils were not supposed to be different sizes.
“You took a hard hit to the head,” said Wei Wuxian, as cheerfully as he could. “Just stay still, will you? Rescue is on the way!”
He assumed, anyway. Lan Zhan wouldn’t just leave him here. He was very reliable like that.
“Rescue? Why the hell are we being rescued? What did we do this time?” complained Jiang Cheng. Something about his voice tugged at Wei Wuxian. It was less assertive that it usually was, tired, almost—whiny?
“You don’t remember?” said Wei Wuxian. This was bad. This was very bad. “There was a yao. Actually, there were quite a few yaos…”
Jiang Cheng let out a disapproving little huff. Distantly, Wei Wuxian noted that he had made no effort to get up from Wei Wuxian’s lap.
“If we’re late to dinner again, A-jie will be upset,” he mumbled.
Wei Wuxian froze. This was very bad indeed.
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kaegetsmewetter · 5 months
Text
( and your wasted with your latest! ) — constance
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
inspired by | take a shot for me by drake
featuring | artist!connie x blackfem!reader
synopsis | in which reader tries to spin the block with her ex.
word count | 967
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
con man. that’s who blasted off the tv in your shared apartment as you only stared at the illuminating screen blankly. a wine glass in one hand, a blunt occupying the other. you never knew you could ever get into this low of a state of mind but here you were watching the man of every women’s dream now a days. your old man.
it was weird seeing someone who used to be up until dawn writing lyrics that just came to him, or seeing him leave the apartment telling you he’s gonna meet with friends in the studio. at the time, you thought it was an unreachable fantasy. you downplayed his passion and skill and told to not just stick to something basic. something that was reliable. but seeing him now as con man, rapping and singing his lyrics so passionately, chain glistening and grills shining only enhancing his pretty features formed knots in the pit of your stomach.
if anyone was to ask, you would always say that constance broke it off with you to save yourself in embarrassment, when in reality you were the downfall of the relationship. you broke it off because you felt he was chasing childish dreams and you deserved a real man who could provide and take care of you. but here you were, on a saturday night sulking in the high rise apartment as you ‘man’ was somewhere in the city cheating on you with some broad. you didn’t even try to fight with him because what would that do? you chased him and you got him and now he’s acting up, but you’re allowing it? inhaling from the blunt for the last time of the night, you ashes it out into the crystal dish, placing the wine glass down as well as you dragged your feet towards the bedroom.
instantly finding your way to your closet as you dig through the piles of clothes only the find the piece you were looking for. the deep blue hoodie with the c embroidered on the sleeve. his hoodie. bringing the hoodie to your nose, you inhaled deeply, sinking yourself to the floor as you held it close to you.
it was as if you were mourning the death of someone who passed, but in a way that’s what it felt like. since the break up, it’s as if everyday the two of you didn’t speak, the ache of regret ate at you. you watched from behind the scenes, seeing him post more, his following grow, him being posted up with some of the biggest people in the industry. he was living in lavish while you stayed in the same place he left you, practically going numb as he just left you behind, forgetting about you.
but he had the right too. but oh did you try to forget him, you tried so hard but it was the small things that only made the pain worse. when it came to how you spoke, little inflictions of spoken words that would trigger you in ways that would make you think of the man. or even the way you mimicked his walk out of instinct from teasing him for it for so long. even down to the shoes he had brought you to help you find your new style. you were in shambles without the man that made you feel like you. who made you into you.
maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the wine, but your fingers moved quicker than your thoughts, pressing on the contact you’ve been contemplating on pressing for 5 months now.
y/n 🪄: connie?
constance ❤️‍🩹: wassup y/n? long time no speak.
y/n 🪄: please don’t do that…
constance ❤️‍🩹: what you need? i’m kinda busy right now.
fluttering your eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to slip down your cheeks you blew a sharp breathe. constance just knew how to get under your skin in a way that made you want to just pull your teeth out. but it’s something that you missed. just getting a response from him had your heart going in a frenzy that you couldn’t contain.
y/n 🪄: connie, i wanna talk to you…i wanna see you…i just feel some things were left unsaid.
pressing the send button you watched as bubbles appeared and disappeared just to appear and disappear once more. a total of five minutes passed with no response only weakening your heart and causing a quiver to your lips. at this point you’ve done what you’ve could and was willingly to let the man go before the ping caught your attention.
constance ❤️‍🩹: i don’t know about that y/n, i think we should just leave it where it is.
reading the text over and over only had you biting back the tears that wanted to pour out from the pit of your heart. you deserved that. after the way you spoke to him in the final argument, you wouldn’t want to poke at the bear again. but here you were giving it one more shot.
y/n 🪄: constance, please.
connie always went weak when you called him by his government. he didn’t like many people doing it, but the way you said it always soothed a part of him he just couldn’t understand. just seeing you type it made him quiver subconsciously as his thumb hovered over the keyboard trying to get his thoughts together. was he insane for even entertaining the conversation? or was this something he was hoping for? running his tattooed hand down his goatee, he typed away before pressing send to the message, mentally preparing himself for what to come.
constance ❤️‍🩹: i’ll be in the city next week, we’ll talk.
constance ❤️‍🩹: see you then, y/n
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
sticky star from kae: hey y’all! this is my first post and i hope y’all like it! i kinda went crazy ngl but the ideas were just pouring in the more i wrote! i really hope you enjoyed it and be on the lookout for more, mwahhh 💋
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zer0pm · 1 year
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Imagine Luis hugging you closely as you two navigate through the darkness of Castle Salazar. But not just because he didn’t want to lose track of you…
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“Luis, what the hell are you doing?”
“One would think someone as intelligent as you would be able to tell when they’re being embraced. And by such a dashing man, I might add.”
You roll your eyes and proceed to bend your elbow back with swift force. Although you couldn’t see behind you, the contact with leather and the sound of him cursing in his native tongue was a sure satisfactory sign that you landed a perfect hit. He didn’t let go of you completely, but he did loosen his grip so that he wasn’t completely pressed against your behind. His closeness caused your cheeks to burn and you were thankful that it was dark.
The two of you found yourselves wandering warily inside the castle, having been forced to evade Saddler’s plaga-infected cultists once again. Their pursuit chased you inside a series of rooms devoid of light save for a few torches dimly lit with strange purple flames. As the torches were steadfastly stuck on the walls, it would have been difficult to navigate through the area without a reliable source of light on hand. Thankfully, on one of the side tables, you found a lantern already lit. This one burned a distinctive, eerie blue flame and like a moth, you were drawn to it, picking it up gingerly in your hand. It offered little in terms of illumination, but it was enough to help you get a grasp of your surroundings.
By then, your Spanish companion took it upon himself to attach his body to yours. His excuse, he didn’t want to lose you amidst the darkness despite the lantern offering enough light to allow some distance. He didn’t relent even as you shared this fact, creating the excuse that he didn’t want to take the chance especially as monsters could be lurking about anywhere and wanted to be ready to leap to your protection. While he had a point, if you had to guess, it was more likely that the notorious flirt just wanted to be close to you. For the moment, you let it go and moved on to lead you both through the abyss. Upon further inspection, you discovered that the two of you are in a library of sorts. One of many, as Luis candidly pointed out.
“And vastly interconnecting,” he added. In the darkness, his lips thinned into a pensive line before curving to that of delighted realization. “Actually, this place looks familiar. There should be a few hidden rooms somewhere around here. ¡Rápido! Look for a grandfather clock.”
He advises to act quickly yet the man still has his arms wrapped around your waist, restricting your movements. “You know, it’s hard to look for anything let alone move at the pace we’re going what with you holding onto me like this.”
“Hm?” The man hummed, intrigue rumbling in this throat. “How should I hold you, then?”
You scoff. This man is incorrigible. Yet as insufferable as Luis is most of the time, he is also undeniably charming. If you weren’t struggling to stay alive, you’d enjoy private moments like these with him.
As if reading your thoughts, he spoke up. “You know, if not for the certainty of danger lurking in quite literally every corner of this terrible place, this would be a rather romantic setting. Don’t you think?”
“What are you on about this time?”
“C’mon, just think.” The dark-haired man steps around to snake his arm around your shoulders and reposition his tall frame against your side. It was easier to walk this way for certain, but now you can see each other’s faces. You hope he can’t see how flushed your cheeks are. “You, me, and a single candle light. All that’s missing is fine dining with some wine and this would make a most promising night worth remembering.”
“I have a feeling that this whole journey is going to be memorable whether we like it or not,” you sigh. “So what, then? Like a date?”
Luis shrugs, “If that is what you would like it to be.”
Why can’t this guy ever be straight with you? As flirty and playful as he can be with his teasing, there are far too few instances where you can tell he’s being genuine. This is not one of those instances. And over such an intimate topic. You decided to bite the bullet and prod further.
“What would you want it to be, Luis?”
He pauses, clearly not expecting you to turn it around on him. The man twists his head to look into your eyes thoughtfully, the blue flame reflecting off his brilliant silver hues. There was a glint in his gaze that bordered on something hopeful and you wondered if you returned it. As if in doing so, it would drive from him the answer you wanted him to say. However, his lips didn’t move and although the words danced upon the tip of your tongue, you bit them back out of pride. Luis catches how your jaw moved when you clenched your teeth and opened his mouth to break the silence.
Clank!
You both freeze in place.
“What’s that sound?”
“No se-”
Clunk! Shhft!
That sounded alarmingly close. You flash the lantern towards one of the countless bookshelves and through the thin openings, you see movement on the other side. Its figure is hard to discern but the way that the light reflects off its body, you deduce that they are covered in some type of metal armor. You and Luis aren’t alone anymore. Luis squeezes your shoulder and when you turn to face him, he had his pointed finger pressed against his lips. Nodding, you two kept walking as quietly as possible while also keeping a low head and an eye on the mysterious figure walking about. It didn’t seem to notice you and you thought you were in the clear until you heard another set of heavy steel footsteps thumping on the side.
The steps grew faster towards you and out of panic, you flash the lantern that way to see what was coming. The light reveals an animated suit of armor running at you with a sword raised high. You were about to run for it until you felt a familiar hand upon your waist, keeping you in place. You struggled against Luis’ hold, stricken with horror. Just as you were about to scream at him to let you go, he takes a firm grasp of your hand that held the lantern and lifts both of your hands upward towards the armor. Your eyes flinch to a tight close, shoulders tense of what you assumed to be your impending doom…
But the steps have stopped, the limbs of the armor come to a screeching halt and you open your eyes to see this new, terrifying enemy completely stationary, as if frozen on the spot.
“Huh. That’s new.” Luis comments with intrigue evident in this voice. “A mutated variant capable of using non-organic hosts. Salazar has been busy.”
So many questions flooded into your mind but your anger took over your voice. You glare at him over your shoulder, miffed over how calm he is given that he nearly gave you a heart attack. “How about a little warning next time?”
Shhft! Shfft! Shhft!
That’s definitely not good. It sounded like you two are surrounded and while the castle is huge, the rooms in the library are packed tight with shelves and thin aisles. A step in the wrong direction would spell your end.
Luis speaks up, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
Did you have a choice? The man practically drags you by the arm, managing to sneak you both behind the cover of a book-filled aisle. The tall, thick volumes block the lantern’s light from the plagas’ view. Leading you both into a crouch, he guides you through the library. You could do nothing but follow, keeping a careful ear to the movement around you. After several careful turns, you enter another dark room and stop right before a grandfather clock. Luis takes the lantern from your hand and a rare, serious expression settles on his rugged features.
He whispers, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, what are you-”
He dashes off before you can finish your sentence. How a man can move that fast and not make a sound is beyond your comprehension. Completely alert, you watch his retreating form go down what looked like a long corridor. In the darkness, only the light illuminated his shape, making him appear like a shadow. You couldn’t see what he was doing but before you could ponder further, the walls seemed to shift in the distance, consuming the light and leaving your sight with only the only void.
Panic fills you like insects crawling into your pounding heart. Terror pricks upon your spine in chilling shudders. What did Luis do? Where did Luis go? Did Luis leave you?
You thought about calling out to him but the familiar sound of steel-capped footfalls fills your ears. You back yourself into the wall, making yourself as small as possible and hold you breath, daring not to make a single sound. The armored plaga are so close, the sharp clangs of metal echo off the walls in rhythm of your blood pumping. You thought for certain that it was over when one dreadful step resounded against the floorboard right beside you but a harsh thud in the distance catches the attention of the overgrown parasites. The plaga rush towards the noise and you listen carefully for their footsteps to echo further in the distance before sighing softly in relief.
Believing it would be best not to linger in this spot longer than necessary, you were about to shift to a stand until something firm gripped onto your shoulder. You nearly gasped aloud in shock, but your mouth is covered by what felt like a warm hand.
“Calma, calma.”
Luis’ thick accent reaches your ears in a soft, soothing whisper and you immediately relax under his touch. Remembering yourself, you slap his hand away and admonish him through clenched teeth.
“Luis, what the hell?!”
“No time for questions. Follow me.”
You hear him shuffle before you, the lack of light making it very difficult to make out what he was doing. After a minute, you hear the soft click of a mechanism and the low dragging of something heavy scuffing against the wooden floor. The hand on your shoulder swiftly slides down to grip your arm and you’re once again dragged through the darkness. The rush of your pace was short lived as Luis lets go of you. His body heat retreats from you and you nearly reached out for him, but your hand stops midair when you hear him tinkering offside and the familiar mechanism shifts gears. He must have led you both to one of the hidden rooms he mentioned before and just closed the entrance behind you.
“There. We’re safe. For the time being,” the Spaniard says.
You take in some much needed breath at his words. Once you have completely relaxed and was certain that you were not in immediate danger, you steal a moment to absorb your new surroundings and come to a familiar conclusion- it was dark as hell!
As you were about to ask what the next part of Luis’ genius plan was now that you have successfully evaded your armored pursuers, a soft click echoes off the wooden walls. Your curious eyes catch a small flame burning a ways from you, the warm light casting a warm glow against a familiar figure. It was Luis. With a lighter in hand.
You blink. “Have you had that this entire time?”
The man was hunched over one of the lower shelves of a large bookcase, tossing aside several books over his shoulders without a care for the amount of noise he made with his rummaging.
“Hey, are you listening to me?” you said as you beelined to his side. “What are you doing now, Luis?”
He responds without looking at you, “Un momento. It should be… ¡Oye! Found it!”
His hand lifts from the recesses of the shelf, revealing a rectangular tin container.
You blink, “It’s a box.”
It was Luis’ turn to roll his eyes. “Not just any box. Suppressants. This should help our two American friends with their parasite problem.”
His words perk you up to attention immediately. “That’s great! We should tell Leon and Ashley right away.” Your hand moves towards the communicator you keep on your person. However, again, Luis’ voice stops you.
“Not yet.”
You quirk your brow at him inquisitively. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
The dark-haired man shakes his head. “Nada. Rest assured, we’ll break the good news. But first, ¿por qué no nos tomamos un descanso?”
He wants to take a break? When you uncovered such a critical find?
You countered, “You really think now is the time for a breather?”
He responds with a shrug, “Now would probably be the only time, my friend. This room is completely safe, I promise. And I have every intention of savoring the moment it has to offer. You’re free to join me.”
The finality in his words truly left you with no room to argue. And boy, did you want to argue. But the ache in your muscles begged for rest and truthfully, the idea grew more tempting by the second.
Eventually, you cave. “Five minutes. And we keep going.”
Luis grins, “I can work with that. Next time will be longer.”
With that, his lighter closes with another metal click, killing the only light in the room and effectively rendering your sense of sight useless once more. You didn’t realize he moved until you felt his warmth breath fanning against your face, your nostrils taking in his musk.
“And for the record,” his voice comes off low and deep. “Me encantaría salir contigo.”
Before you could ask him to repeat himself as you didn’t quite catch that last part, he silences you with his lips pressed against yours, warm hands returning to your waist and pulling you close.
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