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#and her big softie side
idiaa-shroxd · 11 months
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YOUR WRITING IS SO PRETTY I COULD EAT IT. YOU CHARACTERIZE THE CHARACTERS SO WELL TOO!!!
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thank you so much!! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ happy you think my writing is very pretty!! and also makes me happy you think my characterization was correct.
when writing for characters always take a bit of extra time to ensure they sound good? thinking about having an actual conversation with them for a minute and what they’d do! ♧ personally a big fan of viginettes since that reveals a lot of a character more than mainstory.
Σ('◉⌓◉’) mini (huge) rant within the tags of the way of my process to understand a character!!
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#i’ve been trying to work on characterization with trey for example because in the main story he is relatively nice#but within his viginettes he’s a bit more than that like a slightly smug teaser than boy next door.#the characters tend to have complexity rather than one dimension traits people tend to stick by#which isn’t a bad thing but to start writing it could help kick you off but majority of the time your characters do have many emotions to#aspirations- such as vil being mean BUT that coming with subtle charm of care- he does not derive pleasure from purposefully degrading other#he firmly believes he can see the beauty in everyone if they try and he attempts to get others to apply themselves so they can be pretty#he does not go around like ew you’re ugly go away unless you have a negative attitude like leona who purposefully does not put any effort#but sometimes his pursuit for beauty can go out of hand like with epel or neige but his dorm ssr perfectly illustrates he knows what he does#he does not always explain himself with having epel do heavy lifting which only helps epel improve but he would not tell him this directly#there are other characters i can rant about the way i write. such as sebek being a malleus fanboy#but that was not a central part of his personality to warrant every fic just mentioning malleus each sentence#the best way to learn how to write for him would be looking at his viginette or his event story without tsunotarou!! he is quite a wonderful#-ly designed character but gets overlooked due to his ‘louder’ part of his personality. but he genuinely has captivated me as a character#the best examples for eng players would be during harveston- when he was extremely passionate about what he did with a soft side for his#plush!! he’s a big softie. he’s just very confused because his grandfather openly hates humans. he acknowledges marja and complimented her#he’s not hating humans for no reason but because it was taught to him. he’s trying his best to be what he is but you can tell he is not too#prideful that he would refuse to acknowledge marja just for being a human. in fact in his viginette he HELPS humans with their lumber#though that is technically due to him being confident he can do so compared to a human thanks to being a guard for Malleus but he is quite#happy to be complimented!!-. he is a character with more depth: ceremony viginette next#he tells yuu to just let him handle things since he’s stronger which shows he’s also blunt and says things without thinking about others at#times. but people are MISSING out on fics with sebek yuu and tea bonding over tsunotarou because he has no hostility to those who like#tsunotarou. he is happy to teach!! his other viginette think pe??: lilia tricks him into eating steak with yogurt iirc and he does honestly#it’s disgusting but he trusts lilia and 100% believe the old fae. THE POTENTIAL. authors need to use that?? just lilia messing with him or#how he can sometimes be so gullible you can get him to trust you mixed together with how attached he was to squirrel plush#he’s actually such a cute character.#there’s also Kalim who KNOWS there are bad people. he is not innocent as he knows there are bad people that want him gone#his least favorite food is curry because Jamil got sick for a week after taste testing his food.#Kalim just chooses. he wants to believe the kindness of the world not due to purity but due to the fact he does not want to live in constant#fear. which in itself already makes him more than one dimension. he may seem carefree but there’s room to play with when describing him??…#questions of styx.
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and-stir-the-stars · 1 year
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You know what's kind of funny about your tattoo artist Mike tag is that earlier I was having thoughts about a happier timeline - or even just a happier moment in the same not-so-happy timeline - where Mike gives his siblings 'tattoos' by drawing on their arms in marker. I'm not sure what Evan would get but Mike put actual effort into giving him a nice tattoo because drawing is something he really likes to do and is proud of and he privately likes seeing Evan happy with it. ~Dire Kumori
For AU purposes, earlier I was trying to figure out what job Mike might get in a happier, night-guardless timeline. The only thing I could think of at the time was something mechanical/engineering related, which i wasn't all too happy with, but now I am SO attached to tattoo artist Mike! That's so nice for him.
Maybe he starts doodling on his arms/legs when he's younger, always covering it up so William won't see. He's terrified Liz and Evan will rat on him when they find out, but they think it's awesome and excitedly ask him to give them doodles, too. Maybe one day Mike decides to play a joke on Evan and doodle something on Ev's arm while Ev is asleep; he tells Evan that it's a permanent, actual tattoo when Evan wakes up. Ev is too young to know what the tattooing process is like and believes Mike, and he's really disappointed when after a few days the doodle fades away. Maybe that's what makes Mike seriously realize he could be a tattoo artist one day.
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al-selfships · 6 months
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Unikitty: Hiiiiiiiii, Koto.ko!! You seem a bit down in the dumps, so tell me: what does Al do that makes you happy?
" I don't like to rely on others to be happy, but if it's about him... The way he silently clings to me before going to sleep. He's usually too shy to say anything, but I know it's his way to ask me to hold him. Knowing I make him feel safe like that... Yes. That makes me happy. "
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— Ko.toko.
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hopeswriting · 2 years
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alright last one, but lal and luce? they should be gay for each other.
zsdfcghc okay but for real, tho they should be gay for each other too, but i was thinking how as far as individual arco dynamics go, theirs is among the ones that are the least talked about/focused on. by me included, and i was just thinking we should make this not a thing anymore, because i think they’d be really great together. and bonus points for adding female friendships in khr fanonically at least, so just for that alone i think we should do this lol
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fellstcr · 2 years
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𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ]   / wrote @wandersinger​ / CLOSED.
snapdragon :   is your muse merciful ? why or why not ?
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           THAT  IS  quite  the  complicated  question  ,  with  an  equally  complicated  answer.  byleth  has  shown  BOTH  SIDES  of  that  coin. on  the  one  hand  ,  she  grew  up  as  a  mercenary.  giving  mercy  was  a  luxury  she  likely  didn’t  have  very  often.  likewise  ,  when  push  comes  to  shove  she  is  MORE  than  capable  of  hunting  down  foes  like  prey  when  they  have  committed  an  egregious  sin  against  herself  or  those  close  to  her.  (see:  kronya  ,  after  murdering  her  father  ,  all  routes)  and  although  much  harder  for  her  ,  she  is  capable  of  putting  her  own  feelings  aside  to  do  what  she  must.  (see:  killing  edelgard  in  the  silver  snow  route.) 
           HOWEVER  ,  as  far  as  a  certain  AU  warriors  installment  is  concerned  ,  byleth  even  at  her  most  cold  will  STILL  grant  mercy  when  death  is  not  a  foregone  conclusion.  and  ,  as  far  as  the  base  game  is  concerned  ,  at  even  her  LOWEST  POINT  (the  crimson  flower  route)  byleth  is  the  only.  person.  capable  of  sparing  seteth  and  flayn.  and  this  is  even  AFTER  edelgard’s  entire  spiel  about  the  nabateans   being  ,  and  i  quote  ,  “. . .creature[s] that can merely masquerade as a human at will. . .”  /  “monsters that have controlled fódlan in secret for far too long” - AND  AGREEING  WITH  HER.  so  ,  too  ,  even  when  she  is  wholly  convinced  to  fight  against  what  remains  of  her  own  heritage  ,  byleth  is  capable  of  granting  mercy  and  willing  to.  even  if  it  means  this  mercy  is  gifted  in  complete  secret.  (if  edelgard  or  any  other  non-byleth  unit  faces  the  nabateans  ,  they’re  slated  for  death.  it’s  actually  only  byleth  who  can  have  the  option to  spare  them.)
         that  is  also  not  accounting  for  the  fact  that  in  her  most  compassionate  route  (azure  moon)  ,  byleth  goes  out  of  her  way  to  grant  dimitri  mercy  by  killing  his  hostage  before  he  can  continue  to  taint  himself  with  more  bloodshed.  she  took  that  burden  upon  herself  -  but  in  doing  so  also  committed  a  war  crime  against  a  defenseless  enemy.  so  ,  really  the  question  is  not  only  if  that  was  MORALLY  CORRECT  but  if  it  was  ,  in  fact  ,  truly  merciful.  in  the  long  run  it  worked  out  in  her  and  dimitri’s  favor  ,  but  that  was  still  a  life  lost.
            all  that  in  mind  ,  i  would  say  that  byleth  ,  INNATELY  ,  is  one  who  values  mercy  more  than  death  and  war.  i’d  go  as  far  as  to  say  that  giving  grace  (especially  to  those  she  holds  dear)  may  even  be  one  of  her  core  values.  she  ,  of  course  ,  also  understands  the  importance  of  a  fight  -  especially  for  one’s  own  beliefs.  she  may  even  consider  it  a  necessary  part  of  life  ,  even  if  it  OUGHT  to  be  a  last  resort. 
           -  so  is  byleth  merciful?  i  would  say  ,  YES.  over-abundantly  so.  but  she  can  also  be  merciless.  and  if  you  VALUE  your  life  it  would  be  well  within  your  best  interests  not  to  cross  her.
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quaddyvoddy · 10 months
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one crazy night shift and six hours of sleep later, and i'm just now realising that i agreed to pay for a taylor swift vip ticket just so i could make my bff happy
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butterflytint · 4 months
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pet names
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Summary: jjk men and the pet names they keep for you
Pairings: jjk men x fem!reader (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna)
Warnings: nsfw, sexual content, oral, missionary, doggy, riding
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Satoru Gojo
Baby and princess. For one he loves spoiling you with lavish gifts and brand named items like the princess you are. He also enjoys taking care of you and calling you his.
His chest always swells with pride seeing his girl on her knees, drooling all over his cock that’s too big for her small mouth.
“Yeah, baby, just like that,” he coos, his fingers sifting through your hair, pulling it back so it doesn’t get in the way.
Or when he’s got you face down in the pillows and ass up as he’s ploughing into you at a pace so harsh it has you moaning at the top of your lungs. He leans in, smiling wickedly as he says in your ear, “My princess takes my cock so fucking well.”
Yeah, he’s a slut.
Suguru Geto
My love. I just know he’s so tender with the way he speaks to you. You can always tell from the gentility in his tone how much he truly cares for you and it always has you melting.
When you say his name, he’s all like, “Yes, my love?” A soft smile on his face, giving you his undivided attention as he’s prepared to also give you his life right then and there.
When he has you underneath him, he’s softly pushing the hair out of your eyes. His hips rock against yours and his dick is nestled deep inside you, dragging along your walls. Your gasping at the feeling of it, trying to hide your face by turning to the side.
He lightly chuckles, “No, love, look at me.”
He’ll slow his thrusts just so he can grab your jaw and have you face him. Once your eyes meet, he moves on to completely fuck your brains out in the most animalistic way.
Kento Nanami
Darling and Pretty girl. He’s just the perfect gentleman, it’s a fact.
He never stares too long, he never speaks aggressively, he’s always taking care of you like you’re something sacred.
When you call for him, he’ll raise his head, tearing his attention away from whatever book is in his hand. His brows raise all expectantly as he looks your way, “What is it, darling?”
And he has no idea what it does to you when you’re riding him and he’s murmuring into your ear, “You’re doing so well . . . my pretty girl.”
It leaves you clenching around him and whining like a whore. You relish the feeling of his hands on your waist, guiding you along the length of his cock.
The gentleman he is, he’ll let you go about it at your own pace until he considers helping you. His fingers dig into your waist and he stops your movements, breathing against your lips.
“I think you can take way more than that, darling.” Then he’s defiling you in a way that’s the complete opposite of gentlemanly.
Toji Fushiguro
Angel. There’s something about a big broody guy like him that sees you as some godsent drop of heaven.
He’s always viewed himself as a flawed man, someone that easily scared others. From his abrasive disposition and temperament to his rough appearance, he was completely threatening. But he was always a softy when it came to you—except for when he’s fucking you.
“Come on, angel, you can take it—good girl.”
He has you folded in a mating press, your knees pushed back to your chest as he sinks his cock into you. He sees you as this dainty little thing and it all the more encourages him to absolutely manhandle you.
In any state he’s ever seen you in, it’s always been angelic in his eyes. Breathy moans dripping from your lips—angelic. Eyes all glossy from tears—angelic. Sweat-sheened skin bathed in moonlight—angelic. So the nickname only seems fitting.
“Yes, angel, that’s it,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you lovingly on the lips, a stark contrast from the harsh thrusts of his hips.  
Ryomen Sukuna
Bitch.
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lynnielovestlou · 1 month
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I haven’t seen or read any sleeping with Ellie or Abby headcons and you’re such a lovely writer!!! I wanted to ask if you can write something like that maybe?
i'm gonna give you both because i'm in a good mood today!!! also thank you for the compliment i love you
masterlist nsfw!!
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having sex with abby!!!
ꕤ₊˚ i've said this in sooo many of my fanfics, but abby is the most gentle person ever. in contrast to her large build and huge muscles (and ability to manhandle you however she pleases) she's such a softie. she's such a soft!dom and nobody can change my mind on this. she's never rough with you unless you blatantly ask her to be, but she much rather prefers slow and gentle sex and just taking her time with you.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is also big on toys!!! there, i said it. she buys/finds all these weird things to use on you in bed because it's such a turn on for her. yes, she does like seeing you get off on her fingers or her mouth or anything else, but she much rather prefers to use a strap or a dildo or a vibrator or something because she thinks you're just so damn pretty like that.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is definitely a whimperer. like, this girl is quiet because she much rather would like to hear you instead of herself. so she'll muffle her pretty moans s just so she can hear yours.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is big on kissing during sex (unlike ellie, but i'll get to that in a second) she likes kissing your lips, your cheek, your forehead, your hairline, your neck, behind your ear, your collarbone, your titties (and when you choose doggy, she'd kiss your bum cheeks every once in a while)
ꕤ₊˚ that's another thing. abby is an ass girl! even when you're not having sex, her hand will be in your back pocket. she'll pinch your booty as you walk by her sometimes, and she can't resist spanking you when she sees you bent over getting clothes out of the dryer or taking food out of the oven.
ꕤ₊˚ abby likes to put you in a ton of crazy positions. she likes doggy, when you're bouncing on her lap, literally anything but basic ol' missonary
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having sex with ellie!!!
ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie prefers skin-on-skin. it's way more intimate to her, and she can feel you better when you're coming on her hand, her mouth, or even her thigh. that's why she loves taking baths or showers with you, so she can feel every curve and every inch of your body. she'll use her strap SOMETIMES but she prefers to be able to feel you on herself and not on some plastic dick. she loves tribbing with you, for this exact reason.
ꕤ₊˚ even though she likes the intimacy of being skin-on-skin with you, she likes to pound tf out of you. she'd never hurt you intentionally, obviously, but she loves hearing your moans grow loud. plus, ellie has a thing for making you squirt. she was slam into you until the sheets are soaked or you pass out. she's not aggressive, but she definitely likes it rough at least a little bit.
ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie likes to use names on you during sex. like "whore" or "slut", but she'll apologize once it's all over to tell you she doesn't really mean it. when you ask her to go more gentle, she'll call you things like "honey" "baby" or "beautiful." depending on the way that y'all are fucking, she'll use different names.
ꕤ₊˚ ellie doesn't like kissing you during sex!!! it's not that she's opposed to it, per se, but she would much rather take eye contact with you over kissing you. she likes the idea of watching your face as she fucks you so good, knowing that nobody compares to her. she'll cradle your head, her elbows propped up on the bed on both sides of your ears. your legs are wrapped around her hips as her pelvis snaps into yours, and she's just holding your face, pressing and occasional kiss to your hairline. ugh, i need her so bad.
ꕤ₊˚ tbh i dont think ellie has that many kinks, but she definitely likes to get high before a nice fuck. the two of you will spend half and hour or so just rolling joints and smoking, etc. until eventually she beckons you to sit on her lap and you'll grind on her thigh n everything. until eventually you both just give in and she'll fuck the life out of you.
ꕤ₊˚ ellie is the queen of aftercare. even though abby is also very good at it, ellie takes it very seriously. she'll clean you up and shower you with kisses. and then she'll put some of your clothes in the dryer to warm them up a little bit before dressing you herself. she's so sweet :').
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munsonsreputation · 3 months
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i can't talk to you when i'm like this
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [2.1K]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)
summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.
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You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.
Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.
He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.
“Why are you making it such a big deal?”
His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.
He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.
Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.
“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”
Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.
This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.
He knows he messed up.
It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.
It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.
You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.
Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.
“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.
The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.
The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.
“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”
The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’
All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.
He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.
Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.
“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.
There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.
No one gets it… but Steve does.
“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.
The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.
“I’m fine, Steve!”
Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.
He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.
“Baby,”
Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”
He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.
Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.
It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.
You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.
One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.
“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.
Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.
He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.
Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.
You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.
You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.
“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.
He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.
Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.
“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,
Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.
But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.
“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.
But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”
You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.
You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.
“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.
“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”
You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”
Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.
Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.
“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.
It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.
“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.
“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.
When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.
“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”
“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“
He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”
Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.
Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.
It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.
“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.
His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.
“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.
Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”
“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.
He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.
His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.
“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.
His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.
“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”
He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.
“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”
Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.
The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.
It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.
But Steve gives you everything and so much more.
A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.
When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.
He’s everything you could have asked for and more.
You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.
“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.
He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.
That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.
His love.
“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.
You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”
“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.
You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.
“I know, I love you too.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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loaksky · 1 year
Text
— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴
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the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.
the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)
the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).
the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!
the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).
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YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.
It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.
It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.
Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.
He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.
But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.
Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.
You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.
“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”
There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.
“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.
Kiri's face splits into a grin.
“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”
You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.
“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”
It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.
“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.
“Do what?” Kiri challenges.
“Pretend I have a chance.”
Kiri makes a face.
“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”
You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.
Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.
“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”
Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.
“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.
You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.
He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.
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In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.
“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."
The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.
There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.
Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.
But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.
It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.
Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.
“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.
He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.
Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.
You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.
You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.
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“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.
Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.
“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.
“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”
You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.
“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.
Kiri's eyebrows furrow.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”
Kiri curses under her breath.
“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.
“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”
Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.
“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”
You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.
“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.
Kiri smiles politely.
“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.
You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.
Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.
“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.
“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.
“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”
“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.
You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.
“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”
“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”
“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”
“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.
Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.
“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.
“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.
“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”
“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.
“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.
Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.
“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”
“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.
There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.
His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.
Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.
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“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.
You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.
“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.
You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.
“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.
“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.
You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.
The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.
“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.
“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”
“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.
Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.
When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.
Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.
“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.
You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.
“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”
Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.
Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.
“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.
Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.
“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.
Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.
“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”
Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.
Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.
She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.
He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.
“Tuk, wha—”
She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.
“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”
Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.
It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.
He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.
“_______!” he calls.
He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.
He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.
Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.
“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.
Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.
“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.
“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.
Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.
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You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.
“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.
You scent him before you see him.
Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.
You shoot up again anyways.
“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.
“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”
You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.
His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.
You pause a moment, but then nod.
“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”
Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.
“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”
Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.
“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.
You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.
The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.
“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.
“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.
You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.
“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”
You pause.
“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”
You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.
“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.
“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”
Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.
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Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.
He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”
“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.
“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”
Neteyam swallows.
“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.
His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.
“Son?”
Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.
“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.
Jake's lips twitch.
“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”
Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.
“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”
Jake gives him an impish grin.
“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”
Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.
He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.
Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.
You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.
“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”
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Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.
Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?
And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.
Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.
If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.
Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.
“Neteyam!”
Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.
“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.
“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”
Neteyam nods.
“Never better,” he says simply.
“After dinner we should–”
He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.
“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.
He catches up to you right outside of your tent.
“________!” he calls.
You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.
“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.
You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.
“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.
“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.
He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”
A few beats pass as you blink at him.
“Well?”
“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”
You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.
“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.
You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.
You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.
Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.
A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.
“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.
It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.
“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.
“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”
Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.
“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.
“Everyone does,” you deflect.
Neteyam's jaw locks.
“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.
You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.
“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.
“________,” he presses.
You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.
“Why?” you ask shakily.
“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.
“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.
He's across the floor before you can blink.
“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.
“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”
Neteyam is stunned.
“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”
Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.
“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”
Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.
“You should go,” you say when he's silent.
You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.
“I–”
“Neteyam, spare me, please.”
“I don’t want to,” he finally says.
Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.
“You're–”
“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”
Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.
“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”
"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”
He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”
“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”
These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.
“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”
“I know, I know,” he assures you.
“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”
He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.
“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”
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“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.
“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”
Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.
“Do you blame her?”
“Kiri!” he pleads.
Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.
“Actions,” she says simply.
“Huh?” he vocalizes.
“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”
Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.
“And how will I do that?” he presses.
Kiri shrugs.
“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”
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As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.
His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.
“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.
You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.
She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.
“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”
You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.
“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”
The elder laughs again.
“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”
Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.
“What?”
“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”
“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.
“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”
Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.
“I–”
“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.
You bite.
“Why do you say that?”
“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”
The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.
You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.
“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.
You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.
“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.
He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.
You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.
After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.
“Are you well?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”
“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”
“No?” you parrot shakily.
“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”
“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”
You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.
“Don’t,” you warn.
He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.
“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”
Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.
“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”
“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”
You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.
When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.
“Wha—”
“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”
Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.
“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”
“Neteyam–”
He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.
“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.
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“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.
The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.
Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.
You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.
“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”
“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.
He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.
"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.
Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.
“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.
Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.
“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”
“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”
“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.
He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.
“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”
It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.
“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.
Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.
“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.
Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.
“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.
They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.
In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.
“Well?” Lo'ak prods.
You fidget, rattling with nerves.
“I suppose...”
Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.
“Where are we going?” you squeak.
“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.
The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.
The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.
Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.
Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.
You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.
When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.
“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”
With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.
“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.
You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.
“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.
That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.
You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.
The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.
“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.
The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.
Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.
“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”
You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.
When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.
“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.
You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.
“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.
“I'd argue differently,” he responds.
“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.
“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.
You sigh.
“I could—”
Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.
“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”
Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.
“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.
He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.
It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.
His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”
You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.
“Say it,” he begs.
Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.
“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”
Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.
“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.
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A LIL' BONUS
“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.
Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.
“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."
“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”
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an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)
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neng © 2023
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imadhatt3r · 7 months
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You know what? That one line from that Phantom Liberty ending where V can call Johnny a "big ol' softie"? They're right. They're absolutely right.
Johnny is a softie. He goofs off on multiple occasions in V's field of view despite knowing that nobody can see him, probably to his own and V's amusement. He screams on the rollercoaster and grins like crazy at V. He adores Nibbles. He wanted to check on Kerry when he heard that he was suicidal. He finally took Rogue on that car cinema date and can flirt with her in a goofy way straight out of his favorite "Bushido" movies. He has fun on the reunion concert and gives Kerry his DeLuze Orphean as a goodbye gift. He narrates that one quest like a noir narrator just to mess with V. He understands Barry's grief over his tortoise. He's respectful when watching Joshua's crucifiction. He's nice to Spider Murphy and calls her "Spider". He sheepishly apologizes to Alt in "The Sun" ending. He puffs up his chest when Denny says she misses him. He's fuming over the kids in "Talent Academy" being treated like products, probably because it reminds him of how he was treated in the military. He feels for Solomon Reed because he sees himself in him. He feels for Songbird because her circumstances remind him of V's.
And speaking of, he really loves V. He just loves them so much; He's always on watch for any danger and does his best to give them advice. He promises that he will do everything he can to cure them. He will encourage them to take a break if they're feeling sick. He will attempt the most dangerous stunts to get them to Mikoshi. He promises V to let them wipe him from the Relic and he keeps that promise. He will realize that they're his only loved one left and will ask for the last chance, and when he gets it he does everything he can to make them proud and happy. He accepts their decision no matter what it is, because it's their body and life. His worst fear is getting to live again, but without his friend/partner/soulmate/beloved (depending on interpretation) with him. He's proud to be able to call himself V's friend. He's proud of them. He's sad that he won't be able to see how V will change. He choses to stay calm and positive before he will be innevitably killed so that his beloved V will live to keep them calm and comfort them.
That whole hardass, asshole act? It's a ruse, it's a front, it's a persona he had to put on due to bad childhood, PTSD from being drafted as a teenager, seeing other teenagers die horribly around him, losing his limb and being branded with the Arasaka logo he did his best to scratch out and being tossed into a rockstar life of drinking, drugs and fans when he was likely not much older.
He might fight it, but he will never be the detached, emotionless action hero he wants to be, because that's not at all who he is! I think that his slight grin when V says it is one of relief, that he was able to show his most vulnerable, tender and gentle side to the one person he holds dear and not be punished for it, playfully teased but with clear sympathy on V's part. After decades of struggle with who he is being so different from who he wants to be, he can finally be seen for who he is, and who he would be if his life went oh so differently.
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mapiforpresident · 2 months
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Most Likely To
Alexia x reader
warnings: none
~~~
It was currently almost Valentine's day, so Barcelona was having all the team couples do some short interviews to post on the actual day.
Alexia was not a fan of this, but she saw that you were excited, she reluctantly agreed. She wanted to maintain her professional captain persona, but she also knew that it was important for people to see that she was also a normal person at the end of the day and that it was ok for her to be dating a woman.
~~~
"Hey, how was your interview," you asked Mapi and Ingrid as they walked out of the media room. They had their interview right before yours.
"It was really good we had to see who knew each other better and Ingrid won. I forgot her first pets name." Mapi told you. "I think you guys are doing the who is mostly likely to challange. I am excited to see if we learn anything new about big tough Ale over here that we didn't know." You laughed at this agreeing that you would make sure the fans learn how much of a softie Ale is for you.
~~~
You and Alexia then walked into the room as the media people explained how it would work and set up your mics. The interviewer then got started facing the camera, "Ok today we have special guests Alexia and Y/n. Today they will be playing the who is most likely to challange. They each have a paddle with their face on one side and the others face on the back. I will ask some questions and they have to show the face of who they think it fits better. At the end we also have a couple questions sent in by fans. Let's get started with the first question.."
"Ok we will start off very easy. The first question is who is most likely to forget their boots at home?"
You both immediately held up the side of the paddle with your face.
"I may have forgotten them before the champions league final. Luckily someone had an extra pair in my size. Ale always asks me three times if I have my boots now before we leave the house." You responded laughing towards the camera.
"She is very forgetful, she even forgot her passport before a game onetime and had to fly in the next day. I definitely made her run extra laps for that." You definitely gave Alexia a few heart attacks from all the times you forget things.
"Who is most likely to cry during a sad movie?" the interviewer queried with a grin.
You both exchanged a glance. You raised Alexia face as she reluctantly did the same. It was no secret to you or the team that Alexia had a soft spot for emotional films, often shedding a tear or two during particularly touching scenes.
As the interview progressed, the questions delved deeper into your relationship, sparking laughter and fond memories between you and Alexia.
The interviewer grinned as she posed the next question, her eyes flickering mischievously between you and Alexia. "Alright, who is most likely to hog the blankets in bed?"
You both hesitated for a moment, exchanging playful glances before simultaneously flipping the paddles to reveal the others face.
You chuckled, nudging Alexia playfully. "Come on, admit it. You're the blanket thief."
Alexia raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, please. You practically cocoon yourself in the blankets every night."
As the interview drew to a close, the final question sent in by fans brought a sense of warmth to the room. "Who is most likely to surprise the other with a romantic gesture?"
Without hesitation, you both raised your paddles, a shared smile of affection passing between you. Despite the playful teasing and occasional disagreements, there was no doubt that your love for each other ran deep, evident in the small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness that defined your relationship.
As the cameras stopped rolling, Alexia pulled you into a tender embrace, her voice soft with sincerity. "You know, despite my initial reservations, I'm glad we did this. It's nice to show the world a different side of us, to be able to share our love openly."
You returned her embrace, kissing her cheek lightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the woman standing before you. "I couldn't agree more, bebé."
The fans absolutely loved the video and seeing this more personal side of Alexia and seeing more into your relationship.
677 notes · View notes
withwritersblock · 2 months
Text
More Hearts Than Mine-Meeting her Family
~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~
Author's Note: this is the first of my one shot collection series where Luke and Y/N do varies fluffy (or angsty) activities with each other's families ! Per usual not edited Summary: Luke meets Y/N's family for the first time Warnings: I don't think so? Word Count: 3,155 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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Luke stood in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, running his fingers through his curls. He held the gel product in his fingers as he tried to style his hair perfectly. He got a haircut. The sides of his hair were shaved as the top of his hair was longer on the top. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It’s been almost a year since he had his hair this short. 
Y/N walked into the bathroom, wearing a maroon sweater with black jeans covering her frame. “Lukey, you look handsome. Please leave it alone,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his forearm. He glanced towards her direction in the mirror before he dropped his hands from his hair.
“It’s so short,” he said as he leaned towards the mirror. She rolled her eyes as she looped her arm through his. “I didn’t think she was going to shave it like this when I said shorter on the sides,” he explained, looking at his reflection again.
“Hey,” she mumbled as she reached her hand over, taking a hold of his chin to force his gaze to her. “You look very cute,” she muttered as she leaned towards him and kissed him briefly.
“Cute’s good right? I mean for meeting your family? Cute is supposed to be-”
“Luke,” she mumbled, raising her eyebrows. He nodded, taking a deep breath as he turned on the sink to wash the remainder of the gel in his hands. “It’s just three days,” she mumbled as she rested her hand onto the bathroom counter. 
“Three days is a lot of time to mess up and make your parents hate me,” he let out as he shifted his body to fully face her. She smiled towards him while shaking her head. 
“You want the cliffnotes?” she asked him and nodded as he delicately placed his hands onto her waist. He toyed with the ends of the sweater as he looked deeply into her eyes. 
“My mom will love you. She’ll say you’re too skinny and will feed you all the cinnamon rolls you can eat. She’ll probably end up loving you more than me,” she said with a wide smile. 
“My dad likes to think he’s this big tough guy. He’ll try to intimidate you but he’ll be a big softy once he sees how much I love you,” she explained. His hands slowly looped around her waist, pulling her closer. His cheeks flushed slightly as the word love leaves her mouth.
“My sister is nosey, she’ll try to get you to blush and she’s really good at it. She may even ask about our sex life,” she explained, raising her eyebrows as she watched his eyes widened. “Don’t tell her anything,” she teased. He nodded dramatically as she rested her hands on his chest. 
“My brother will probably ask you a thousand questions about hockey.” She leaned towards him wrapping her arms around the center of his back. He squeezed her tighter. “You’ll be okay, everyone is going to love you,”
“Am I allowed to touch you, or do I avoid all contact?” he asked, she chuckled as if he was joking but he was serious. She pulled away, keeping her arms wrapped around the center of his back.
“They know you’re my boyfriend, Lovely,” she teased. 
He licked his lips nervously, “I know but are they weirded out if we cuddle on the couch or something,” he asked as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 
“Please cuddle me,” she muttered as she leaned towards him and delicately pecked his lips, “But maybe wait to kiss me until tomorrow,” she let out.
“Noted,” he muttered before he kissed her for a few more moments.
~~~
Luke drove the hour and half it took to get to her parents house. With the ran and the traffic it took thirty minutes longer than normal. Luke was quiet, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm his nerves. Every so often she would reach her hand over and squeeze his hand that was in his lap. He would smile softly towards her briefly before he would shift his gaze back to the road. 
He slowly pulled into the long driveway into her childhood home. She lived in the middle of nowhere. “You can park there, Honey,” she said as she pointed to the small gravel side of the driveway. He nodded as he slowly pulled the car into park. He let out a long drawn out huff of air as he looked towards her. “Just be yourself, my love,” she hummed as she reached her hand across to rest her hand onto his cheek. She ran her thumb across the skin of his cheek. 
“I don’t know how to do that. What if they think you’re too good for-” she silenced him by kissing him. He melted into the kiss as his body relaxed. She pulled away, keeping her lips a mere inch away from him. His eyes fluttered open as he took another deep breath, “Thank you,” he let out before he pecked her lips once more.
“Come on, Lukey,” she mumbled as she opened her passenger side door and stepped outside. The rain had stopped during the last ten minutes of their ride. He stepped out of the car as well, slamming the door shut as he squinted his eyes.
“Please don’t call me Lukey in front of them,” he whined. She fought off the smile on her lips as she shook her head.
She walked towards him as she linked her arm with his as she whispered, “I’ll think about it,” she paused, “Lukey.”
He rolled his eyes playfully as they continued up the small path towards the front door. His heart began to quicken as they stepped up onto the deck, the board creaking as they stepped towards the dark blue door. She met his gaze and he gave her a reassuring nod before she knocked a few times before she pushed the door open. She stepped inside, dragging Luke into the house. 
Her house was a small farm-like house. It was cluttered but homey. Her living room had the fireplace lit and it was already quite warm in the house.
“Mom! Y/N and her boyfriend are here!” her little brother shouted as he jumped from the couch to greet the pair at the door. Luke’s cheeks flushed red instantly as his eyes widened. Y/N glanced towards Luke admiring his pink cheeks before she looked towards her little brother. Who’s not so little anymore, he’s fifteen and already taller than their dad.
“EJ, look at you!” she let out as he jogged towards them. He hugged her instantly, chuckling. After a few seconds she pulled away and looped her arm around Luke’s again. “EJ, this is Luke,” she said, pointing towards him. Elijah lit up as he reached his hand across to Luke to shake his hand. Luke quickly returns the gesture.
“You say that like I don’t know the guy.” Elijah muttered excitedly. Luke smiled, “Great game the other night, I’m a huge fan,” he continued.
“Thanks man. Y/N tells me you’re a goalie?” Luke offered. Elijah nodded dramatically. Before their conversation could continue her parents emerged from the kitchen together. Her mother was practically tearing up at the sight of them.
“Elijah James, will you let them enter the damn house!” her mom asked teasingly. Elijah moved out of the back towards the couch to his video game he was playing. “Come in, come in!” she said excitedly. Her mom guided them towards the living room to allow the couple to breath. 
“Oh Luke, we’ve been so excited to meet you.” her mom let out as she gave him a hug, his eyes widened as he returned the hug. He looked towards Y/N awkwardly. Y/N chuckled as she hugged her dad as he was ignoring Luke and her mom was ignoring Y/N. “How was the drive?” she asked him.
“It was raining but otherwise it wasn’t too bad,” he replied, a small smile on his lips.
“Oh good, come on, dinner is ready,” she said as she began walking back towards the kitchen to walk towards the dining room.
“Two point night the other night, huh?” her dad offered, keeping his hands in his pocket as he looked Luke up and down.
“Yes Sir,” he mumbled, Y/N tried to fight off the smirk toying to her lips. Y/N gave her dad a warning look.
“That was a really impressive goal in OT,” her dad let out as he cautiously clapped his hand against Luke’s shoulder. He walked towards Elijah who was still in the living room. Luke and Y/N walked through the house, ending the conversation there.
“You’re right, he’s scary,” he whispered into her ear. She rolled her eyes playfully as they wandered into the dining room where her sister, Jasmine was sitting waiting. She lifted her gaze from her phone to see the pair walking into the room. Jasmine was her younger sister. Jasmine and Elijah are twins.
Jasmine and Elijah were vastly different. It was hard to even believe that they were twins. Jasmine had dyed red hair and was a part of the school’s theater program. Elijah was the starting goalie for the varsity hockey team. He had been since he was a freshman. Despite their many differences they were very close and they shared the same friend group.
“Hey!” she said excitedly as she lifted her gaze from her phone. “Oh he’s cuter in person, nice job sis,” she said as she scanned Luke up and down. Y/N clenched her jaw as she guided Luke to sit at the dining table. They manuvered towards the empty side of the table, where she was closer to her dad and he was closer to her mom. 
“Luke, this is Jasmine. She tends to lack a filter when talking to people,” she explained as Luke pulled out Y/N’s chair for her to sit. She smiled towards him before she sat down. Luke sat down beside her, reaching for her hand desperately. She delicately interlocked their fingers as she moved her chair closer to him.
“Get a man who pulls out my chair for me,” she said as she mocks typing in her Notes App. Luke pulls his lips between his teeth as he feels his skin get hot.
“Are you doing okay?” Y/N whispered as she leaned towards him, he met her gaze and nodded.
It took a few more minutes before the rest of her family to join them all at the dinner table. Y/N reassuringly ran her thumb across the top of his hand beneath the table. It helped him calm down, feeling her touch on his skin. 
“Luke, how many days do you get off?” her mom asked as they all started to serve themselves food. 
“I get a week off and then I have practice the day before our next game,” he explained as he added salad to his plate. 
“Will you watch the All-Star games?” Elijah asked excitedly. Luke nodded.
“My brothers are there, I have to support them,” he said, meeting Elijah’s gaze. 
“I can’t believe my sister is dating an NHL player,” he said before he took a dramatic bite of his salad. Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s gaze. 
“Luke, Y/N told us you’ve only been in Jersey for about a year. Where were you before?” her mom asked as she put all of her attention on him.
“I was in Michigan, but I’ve been a bit everywhere,” he replied before taking another bite of his food. Y/N delicately rested her finger on his knee, delicately tracing reassuring circles. 
“That’s exciting,” her mom muttered. “How are you liking Jersey?” she asked. 
“I like it a lot. It's hard to enjoy the city when I’m traveling as much as I am but I plan to stay longer in the off season to experience it,” he explained. Y/N smiled towards him with so much admiration as he spoke. Her father watched the soft smile on his daughter’s lips.
Y/N’s brought home two other boys before Luke and her father couldn’t stand them. Mainly because she never looked happy around them, but she hasn’t stopped smiling since she was home with him.
“Can we come to one of your games?” Jasmine asked. Luke lifted his gaze, looking towards Y/N for assistance. 
“Let the kid chew his food before you ask him any more questions,” her dad interrupted. Luke met his dad’s gaze and chuckled as the rest of the table laughed along.
~~~
It was a few hours after they arrived and it was past ten o’clock and her parents were already in bed. Her siblings were in the living room with Luke and Y/N. They were all watching an episode of Friends. Y/N curled up to Luke’s side, his arm was draped along her shoulder as she was nuzzled into his chest. His hand would slowly trail from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder. 
It was simple and easier than what Luke thought was going to happen. Her sister was funny and her brother was super nice. Her mom was overwhelmingly kind and her dad was slowly getting accustomed to his presence. 
“How long have you guys been together?” Jasmine asked out of nowhere. Y/N blinked slowly as she lifted her head from Luke’s chest. 
“Seven months,” she looked towards Luke and his lips turned upward slightly.
“Wow,” she muttered as she tilted her head back against the couch.
“Who asked who out?” Jasmine questioned again, Luke pursed his lips forward as his cheeks pinked up.
“I did,” he mumbled.
“How’d you do it?” Jasmine pressed with a smirk. 
He looked towards Y/N, raising his eyebrows as he asked for permission to tell her the story. 
They met through a mutual friend. Y/N’s friend, Zara, had a fling with Luke’s brother Jack for a few weeks around the playoffs run last year. After a Devils win, Y/N and Zara went out with the team to celebrate. 
While Y/N was completely uninterested in partying as well as Luke. The pair sat together and talked for several hours before they left. After they lost their playoff series, Jack and Zara fling ended horribly. Except Luke really wanted to see Y/N again. It took days to convince Jack to break no contact with Zara to get Y/N number. It worked.
They later found out that Y/N wanted her to do the same thing but Zara refused.
They spent the first month FaceTiming and texting all of the time. There was a hint of romantic tension but they never acted on it until Luke moved back to Jersey. It took thirty minutes into hanging out in person for him to ask her on a date. There was not an ounce of hesitation to say yes.
“So you guys didn’t see each other for another month?!” Jasmine asked. 
“He was back in Michigan, Jaz. It was a little hard,” Y/N said with a chuckle. 
“A bit of a long game then, Lukey Boy,” Elijah teased as he slapped his hand on the shoulder of Luke. Elijah took a long breath as he continued towards the set of stairs near the front door. “I’ll see you guys in the morning, don’t do anything weird in our house,” he said with a yawn as he walked up the stairs towards his room.
Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s eye.
“He’s a real gentleman, sis. It’s a shame there aren't more guys like him out there,” she mumbled as she dropped her gaze to the floor as she walked towards the stairs to her own room. 
Luke kept his gaze on Y/N as she watched her younger siblings leave them alone in the living room. He took a hold of her chin, delicately turning her gaze to look towards him. Their eyes met and he felt his body relax. Her eyes looked down towards his lips as she inched towards him, “Kiss me,” she let out barely above a whisper. He smiled as he glanced around the living room. “Please,” she mumbled. 
He slowly leaned towards her kissing her so delicately, not to make a scene. It had only been a few hours without feeling her lips against his and he missed it desperately. Her father had stepped down the stairs, stopping short. He looked towards the pair, desperately wanting to interrupt them. Luke’s hand slowly rested on her cheek as he pulled away, keeping his face close to hers. “You look beautiful,” he muttered.
Her lips curled upward slowly as she tilted her head to the side. “Thank you, Lukey,” she replied before she leaned towards him and rested her head onto his shoulder. 
Her father fought the smile forming to his lips as he watched the small interaction between them. The entire night, he watched Luke and Y/N put on a show of their relationship and happiness. It was comforting to watch them be fully themselves. He awkwardly shuffled down the stairs pretending that he didn’t see anything. Luke fully scooted away from Y/N as her father walked towards the kitchen.
“Are you ready for bed?” she whispered wide eyed and he nodded as a reply. 
They both stood up from the couch, out of habit Luke rested his hand onto her lower back as they walked towards the stairs. Her father smiled softly as he watched the pair climb the stairs towards her childhood bedroom. She walked towards the last room at the end of the hallway and pushed the door open. 
Luke’s eyes lingered on each childhood photo of hers on the walls of the hallway. He stared the longest at a photo of her sitting in the center of a bean bag with Elijah and Jasmin in her arms. She was smiling shyly as her eyes were staring at her little sister. “That’s a nice picture,” he muttered as he pointed towards it. 
“I was terrified of holding them,” she muttered as they continued down the hall towards her bedroom.
Her room was extremely cleaned as her mother constantly kept it from being dusty. They stepped inside and she shut the door behind them instantly as she met his eyes. Her back was against the door as he rested his hands on her hips. 
“They like you,” she muttered as she ran her hands up and down his chest slowly. He shyly smiled while his cheeks flushed red. “I mean it, my dad would’ve said something if he didn’t,” she teased. 
“I like them too,” he mumbled before he leaned towards her and kissed her delicately.
576 notes · View notes
enwoso · 3 days
Text
START AN ARGUMENT - alessia russo
this is my first time writing in a really long time so if there are any mistakes i apologise! but if you have any questions or requests please send them!
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"lessi c'mere now, please!" you say as she walks into the kitchen, clad in a long oversized white t-shirt and shorts her hair still wet signalling that she had just gotten out of the shower.
a look of suspicion on her face at you stood in front of your phone. "what are you up to?" she giggled coming near to your phone which was propped up against your heart shaped mug which you had made at a pottery date with the blonde a few months ago. the blonde stopping at the corner of the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed as the mischievous look on your face.
"no c’mere" you repeat pulling her arm into the frame of the camera. "i want to start an argument." you say, letting go of the blondes arm and folding your arms to cover your check as your voice was laced with seriousness.
"why?" the blonde asks her eyes narrowing, not being able to tell if you were being serious or if this was part of the reason why you were recording. "is this another one of your silly tiktok things?" she asked but you pretended you hadn't heard her ask the question.
you cleared you voice, picking up the piece of paper which you had written your questions down on. "alessia russo, if i, your girlfriend - ran away would you get with someone else?" you ask, an element of shock appearing on alessia's face. she wasn't sure what you were going to ask but that definitely wasn't on her list of things.
"no never, i love you" she says with a smile thinking she's got the answer right. "what would you do?" you ask, still with a straight face.
"i would be single and lonely and become a mum to your many jelly cats" alessia says again with a slight smile, looking at the camera which is recording the whole moment.
"incorrect." you say bluntly.
"what, so i would be with someone else?"
"no. if i ran away you would come and find me and you would not stop until you had found me, got it?" you say as if that was the most obvious answer she could have said.
"oh, loud and clear!" the blonde says breaking into another fit of laughter not being able to take this whole serious persona you had adopted the past few minutes.
"if you were blindfolded, and had to kiss 50 women including me. would you guess it was me and if so, how?" you say reading of the peice of paper before giving your girlfriend a deep stare.
"of course i would be able to tell which is you, cause you always poke your tongue-" alessia began but didn't have a chance to finish as you cut her off.
"incorrect!"
"why!"
"you shouldn't want to kiss fifty other women to guess which one is me!" you say, shaking your head in false disapproval. "why would you want to kiss 49 other women?"
"i wouldn't!" alessia says in a pleading tone, as she drags her hands down her face in frustration.
"good, now next one, who is always right in this relationship?" you say knowing exactly what she's going to say which is the furthest from the truth.
"right, okay let's be fair-" alessia begins as you side eye her your eyebrows raising a little, "who is always right in this relationship" you repeat the question emphasis on the word right.
"me"
"incorrect!"
alessia begins to laugh as she knows that's wasn't the correct answer, "that's so incorrect." you say still in your total seriousness persona. "i know, but i never get to be right" the blonde adds with a pout.
"again, incorrect!"
"ok, do you prefer my hair natural or with blonde highlights?" you say looking at alessia who's looking at your hair which at the moment is your full natural colour.
"with blonde" alessia says knowing how much you do love it when it comes to getting your hair done.
"incorrect!"
"nah, now your just lying to wind me up!“
"no, you should prefer me no matter what" you say as she lets out a loud groan, "i don't like when your being all serious, can my big softie come back?"
"i can't cope with these questions"
"i can't believe your getting these so wrong!"
"i can't win.”
"would you kiss someone for £10 million, that wasn't me?" you say looking alessia in the eye as she does back to you. "no!" there being a slight pause after she said her answer, the blonde being done with your game you were playing wanting it to be over now cause it was beginning to mess with her head.
"incorrect!"
"what so i would!" she says confused as to why you've said it was incorrect, "yeah!" you said as if it was again the most obvious answer she could have said.
"you just told me i can't kiss 49 other women!" she argued back as you were now beginning to try not to break your straight face.
"i never said you had to kiss them on the lips, could of kissed them on the finger!" you protested as she shook her head mumbling how she doesn't like this silly game you've come up with.
"you've just lost us ten million! you know how many jelly cats i could of had with that." you frown.
"terribly sorry, i'll buy you the jelly cat instead"
"last one, this is the make or break one, if you went to the shop and i said i didn't want anything would you still bring me something back?" you said placing the sheet of paper on the kitchen counter next to your phone which as still recording the whole moment.
"no, cause you just eat what's mine anyway and then not eat what i brought you back, so it wouldn't matter"
"incorrect"
"you should always bring me something back even if i say i don't want anything!" you say a smile beginning to crack on your face.
"got it! note to self always bring you food" alessia says tapping her head as if that was going to help her remember that specific piece of information.
"yes!"
"or drinks"
"yes or flowers!"
"got it!" alessia says bringing you into a bear hug and attacking you with sloppy kisses. "lessi get off me!" you giggle as she carry's on holding onto you as your stood with your back to the counter as she holds you against it, you leaning forward to kiss her cheek.
"incorrect baby, try again!” alessia says a smirk rising on her face. you shake your head at copying your act you had just been doing and lean up to kiss her on the lips as she sighs and smiles into it.
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liked by leahwilliamson and 601,925 others
yourusername just been told i have too many jelly cats.. honestly have never heard something so ridiculous in my life!
comments -
alessia baby it’s getting to the point where i can’t get in bed at night because of them all😐
1h 210 likes reply
-> yourusername well i cant sleep with one and not the others. they have feelings too you know!
kyracooneyx omg have you seen the new ones that have just released!
1h 196 likes reply
-> alessia please don’t encourage her you pest!
-> yourusername i know! there being delivered next week!
491 notes · View notes
javarium · 5 months
Text
quiet kisses | r. sukuna
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prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”
requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗
a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3
w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic
[ Christmas Prompt List ]
[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]
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Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.
This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.
You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.
What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.
You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.
You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”
Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”
“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”
“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”
You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.
Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.
When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.
But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?
And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.
Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”
You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.
Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”
The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.
Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.
Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.
You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.
“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.
Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.
“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”
He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.
When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.
“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.
“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”
Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.
“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”
Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.
“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”
You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?
Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”
You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”
“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.
You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”
But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.
Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.
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randxmthxughts · 1 year
Text
Child of Our Own - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader
summary: seeing his friends already awaiting their firstborns, tsu'tey begins to yearn for a baby of his own, but he is too shy to tell you about it
warnings: none really, soft and shy tsu'tey, hints at pregnancy, mentions of intercourse
wc: less than 1k
a/n: i'm officially in my tsu'tey worship era (this is your fault btw, @avatarbyamara) ik damn well that man only puts up his tough act in front of the others, but he would actually be a big softie with his mate
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“I’m assuming the mission went well?” you smile, feeling Tsu’tey place another soft kiss on your temple.
His chest presses into your back, hands resting gently on your waist, while you’re occupied with peeling the fruits he likes. He was gone for only a few hours but was acting so needy, you start to wonder if anything happened. 
“Tsu’tey,” you nudge him for an answer, but he only hums in response, now planting small kisses across your cheek and jaw.
“‘Was good,” he mutters, not wanting to bore you with the details.
“Were you safe?” you try to turn around to examine him, but Tsu’tey grunts, holding you in place.
“Just missed you.”
You guess that there’s something weighing on his mind, but you don’t push him. Tsu’tey often has moments, when all he wants to do is to hold you in his arms and listen to your soothing breathing. Eventually, he’ll give you a few hints about it anyway. So, you just pat his arm lightly and return to the task at hand. 
Tsu'tey stands with you in silence for a while longer before finally speaking up.
“Neytiri is showing.”
“I know,” you nod, “It suits her.”
As you struggle to reach for another fruit from the basket, Tsu’tey huffs in annoyance and loosens his grip on you. He takes a step back, hating the distance between your bodies, but decides to allow you to finish your work in peace. You can feel his eyes fixed on you, observing every move you make. 
“You’re very quiet today,” you turn around to face him, abandoning your task.
Tsu’tey only shakes his head, disagreeing to voice his concern. You rest your hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him down, until he gives in and kneels on the ground. You crouch down next to him, resting your hand on his thigh. 
“Talk to me, tìyawn,” you murmur.
Tsu’tey gazes at your hand in silence. But when you lean in to kiss his cheek, he turns his head, catching your lips with his instead. It’s not long before he snakes his arms around your middle again and pulls your body onto his. You giggle, as he sits you down in his lap, enjoying the closeness between you two.
“Right now?” you quirk your eyebrow at him, knowing exactly where he is leading with this.
Tsu'tey's lips find their way to your neck, and you let out a soft sigh as his warm breath tickles your skin. You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access, and he trails a few more kisses before nuzzling his face into your neck.
“‘Aani said that Ti'ung is with a child too,” he whispers, catching your attention.
The two of you have mated before Eywa almost a year ago but Tsu'tey never pressured you into becoming a mother so soon. Just for a while, all he wanted was to have you all to himself. To enjoy restless nights with you without a worry of hurting you or having to share you with anybody else. The first few times you mated, you watched him struggle, as he was holding off the unbearable pleasure, before pulling his member out of you and releasing into his hand instead. Presumably, it became a thing he did every time, and you’ve grown so used to it, that you never once paid a second thought to it.
He was always so respectful and gentle with you, loving every bit of your body, every sound that would escape your lips. And despite his readiness to move into the next stage of your lives, Tsu'tey never allowed himself to impregnate you without earning your permission first. But what he failed to realize is that while you were trembling underneath him, reaching your orgasm, you were never able to think, let alone speak about wanting him to release inside of you. 
“What are you hinting at, Tsu’tey?” you pull slightly back to look into his eyes.
“That it might be nice if, growing up, our child is surrounded by a few good kids,” he answers.
“Well, I’m sure Neytiri’s and Jake’s child is going to be just as good as they are,” you nod, agreeing, “And Aani’s and Ti'ung’s too.”
Tsu’tey hums, grateful that you finish his thoughts for him. That you know him so well, see him through and through. Being a man of a few words, he would often get irritated when others failed to understand his thoughts. But with you, it's different. All he cares about is that you see him for who he is, no one else.
“We need to catch up then, huh?” you grin.
Tsu’tey feels his chest swell with love by the way you look at him. So excited, so desperate to create a life with him. He pulls you in for a kiss, pouring all of his gratitude into it, as his hands reach for the ties of your loincloth. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate his desire, and soon the two of you become lost in each other.
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headcanons of tsu'tey reacting to his mate's pregnancy
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