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#the way your family can love you so much and still rip your heart out without meaning to
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Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader
Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.
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Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.
There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.
But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.
It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.
His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.
Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.
More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.
Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.
There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.
Dear Kyle,
Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.
It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.
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coochellati · 14 hours
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Hi! Could you share some favorite Bruno headcanons? Love your blog ❤️
Aweee, thank you so much!! ❤️
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Of course!! Here’s a list!! :)
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My Favorite Bruno Headcanons!!
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He’s got a tan line on his chest from his suit! Lingerie!Bruno also has tan lines from the lace. 😭
Bruno takes pride in his grooming habits. He’s got a whole skincare routine that gives him the softest, glowiest skin that radiates this godlike, ethereal aura. 
He smells like freshly-washed sheets and nice cologne. The cologne he wears is softer on the nose—contains notes of vanilla and lavender. (I imagine his cologne smells like Le Male Le Parfum. If you haven’t smelled it—you need to.)
His zipper charms jingle when he walks.
The place he lives is covered in his signature print. His bedspread? It’s that upside-down pull tab pattern. Towels? Absolutely. His walls??? Covered in wallpapers with his print. 
As much as he enjoys taking you out on dates, he prefers nights in at his place. Staying in is much more intimate—the two of you can hold each other close while sipping on some nice wine and enjoying each others’ favorite media.
Speaking of which, Bruno loves sharing his favorite media with you.  Whether it be listening to the music of Miles Davis or cuddling up to Il Postino, he’s honored that you take interest in his favorite things. And of course, he loves hearing about it the things you like. It warms his heart when he watches you get all excited and happy as you infodump. 
He’s a romantic lover, but not a cheesy one. His acts of love are genuine—he’d do anything just to see your beautiful smile.
It’s stated he enjoys Miles Davis, so it’s evident he enjoys Jazz Fusion. I believe he’s also into prog rock and classical. He has a nice vinyl collection.
Bruno is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to wine. He appreciates the art of it and enjoys wine tasting.
Bruno doesn’t drink a ton of wine—a glass with dinner is usually the extent of it. He likes to keep his mind clear and sharp in case a situation arises, prepared for anything. He doesn’t use any substances other than alcohol. (As much as I like the idea of taking bong rips with Bruno, we all know it wouldn’t happen. MAN I wish it would though.) If he were to get drunk, it would take him about 4 drinks.
In a world where nobody died, Bruno was promoted to Underboss after Giorno took over.
Bruno takes a lot after his dad; he’s got that protector complex. Children pick up and model behavior from their parents. His dad wanted to protect his family from the cruelties of the world, so it’s no doubt he would feel the need to protect you too. He’ll sacrifice his whole self just to keep you safe. (I go into a lot of detail about this in this post.)
He has a fuck ton of money (he is underboss, after all), but he’s still a reasonable spender. Growing up poor, he likely inherited some of his parents’ spending habits. It’s not that he won’t get nice things for himself every once in a while (nothing too egregious,)—I just don’t believe he’d buy himself a mansion.
…you did ask for a list of favorites, and my favorites happen to include some NSFW ones. They’re under the cut ;)
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Bruno Bucciarati isn’t shy with his tongue. He loves oral sex—and he’s damn good at it, too. (all that sweat-licking has given him practice 😂) Tasting you is his biggest turn-on to him—it’s as if he’s tasting your arousal.
He’s a switch, able to play the role of a tormenting dom, or a discomposed sub.
Dom!Bruno revels the power in-balance between the two of you. He’s a highly ranked member of Passione, for one. He wants to make sure you know your place—maybe he’ll make you call him by his last name instead of Bruno as a way to “respect” him, giving you an even greater sense of subordinancy. He also happens to be the wielder of Sticky Fingers, which, come on—he definitely uses his ability in the bedroom. Sticky Fingers is the best stand for sex. (And I am willing to bet money on that.) His ability can be used to separate things, attach you to things, dismantle your body, etc, etc, etc…. You can get incredibly creative with those zippers. And come on, he tortures people. No doubt he’ll wanna carry some of that freaky attitude into the bedroom with him.
Bruno is always in control of everything, so relinquishing his authority and letting someone else take control can be an incredibly freeing sensation. Sub!Bruno becomes intoxicatingly high off your touch, slowly unraveling until he’s a complete mess, having lost all sense of composure.
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mediumsizedpidegon · 1 year
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when it comes to my Bleach/Silmarillion crossover where Maeglin dies, loses his memories and falls into Hueco Mundo (subsequently becoming a hollow)– one of the fun things to come up with is what the FUCK is going on in Arda while Maeglin is gone.
Of course, the second age and third age go as planned, the lord of the rings happens unchanged, because Middle Earth is divorced from the dead. Elves reembody into Aman, not Middle Earth and so no one in ME has any idea that Maeglin is lost to Arda (nor would this fact really change,,, any events).
But in Aman? Tolkien doesn't really talk about what's going on in Aman. In that way it's sort of a blank slate because– are the Feanorian followers allowed to leave the Halls and if they are, how are they settling into society? Who are they giving their loyalty to? Has the system of government changed over the years? What are Teleri-Noldo relations like, several Ages after the First Kinslaying? What is the balance of authority and power like with so many kings, queens and lords stuffed into one land? Who has reembodied and who refuses? How does the absence of well known figures (Finwë, Míriel, Fëanáro and his sons, Celebrimbor, Maeglin, entire generations preceding Finwë) shape politics and healing? Who forgives, who tries to forget, and who holds onto their grudges?
I imagine that at first, no one is looking for Maeglin. Why would they? He just betrayed Gondolin and caused the deaths of a good chunk of people. Those newly-dead aren't going to want to even look at him. Those that survived and sail to Valinor (like Idril) are glad to not see him among the reembodied. They aren't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth and ask questions.
The only ones who would want Maeglin back are his parents.
On the topic of Eöl, I personally find it more interesting if he wasn't evil and his and Aredhel's relationship was happy and healthy for a time. The progression of a paranoid, traumatized parent and husband trying his best to what Eöl ended up doing just. makes a bit more sense to me, especially because I keep the bit of canon where elves can't have kids accidentally. I imagine Eöl passes through the Halls in a matter of decades instead of centuries, not because he is fast to heal, but because being in the domain and under the mercy of a Vala is doing the opposite of helping him. And since he's out before Gondolin falls and lives in solitude, he even doesn't know that Maeglin has died until Aredhel reembodies and personally hunts him down to interrogate him on whether his curse (his prophecy) consigned their son to fading.
It didn't. (With where their son is now, it might have been kinder if it had.)
On Aredhel's end: she searched for her son for years within the Halls before Námo came to her, troubled, and told her that Maeglin is not in his Halls, nor reembodied in Aman, nor wandering Middle Earth– that by all accounts, Maeglin is not in Arda at all. So her son is gone, and her brother is too upset to see it, and Gondolin's people hate him enough that they would celebrate this, and when Aredhel reembodies, her niece tells her she is glad that Aredhel is freed from being bound to evil (her husband) and having borne evil (her son). Her mother embraces her but cannot forgive her for leaving her, her father sees the daughter she was and not the daughter she is, and her other brothers think she grieves having been controlled and misled. No one in her family knows her son and husband as anything but a traitor and her killer– no one in her family knows her as she is now, the Aredhel who left Gondolin and courted a elf who carried grief entangled in his every step in the dark, beautiful forest he claimed as a home. Who lived there of her own free will and had a son of her own free will, and loved them, for all that it ended horribly.
Aredhel has been mistranslated her entire life. She has borne it with what little forgiveness she has. She finds, now, she can bear it no longer.
As time goes on, some members of the family that never met him nearly forget Maeglin ever existed. Reembodied elves of Gondolin write histories of their city and Aredhel stops visiting Tirion entirely for all the stares she receives. There is still no understanding of Aredhel among the Nolofinwions for all their love and she tires of it quicker and quicker. She ends up repairing and renewing her marriage to Eöl (there is much Aredhel can forgive for understanding) and it is not the same as before everything fell apart, but it is theirs.
Maeglin will be gone six Ages before his parents succeed in calling him home. He'll be different too, older, sharper, traumatized, his body strange, but still their child.
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theemporium · 9 months
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[3.1k] it was a placebo effect. you were so sure of it. but a deal with your boyfriend makes you rethink your stance on the aphrodisiac-laced chocolate. (smut)
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“I don’t buy it.” 
Eddie raised his brows, something quite like a smirk on his lips. “No?”
“Not for a second,” you said with a shake of your head. “It’s all a placebo effect.” 
“A placebo effect,” he repeated, thoroughly amused as he shifted back against his seat, his attention now purely focused on you. “I don’t think you can call drugs a placebo effect.” 
“It’s not drugs though,” you pointed out to him. “At least not any of the fun ones. It’s an aphrodisiac, also known as the coward’s drug.” 
This time Eddie snorted. 
“The dude supplying you is fucking with you, Eddie, you’ve been ripped off,” you said, sniffling a little as you took in the array of drugs lined up on the coffee table like it was an average Tuesday. 
Well, because for the two of you, it was an average Tuesday. 
“He said he’s tried it himself,” Eddie countered, his eyes watching you closely before he reached for what looked like—to the untrained eye—as a simple bar of chocolate. “Went as far as saying it worked wonders.” 
Your brows furrowed together in response. “I still don’t buy it.” 
The first Tuesday of the month was the same for Eddie. He would drive over a couple of towns, to a town that was much bigger than Hawkins. It would be a day trip, he would leave early in the morning after pressing a kiss to the top of your head before shoving his mouth with some toast as he walked out the trailer. He would get back an hour or so before dinner, utilising the coffee counter whilst you whipped something up for the two of you. It would take him an hour or so to get through everything and sort out his inventory, then he would be all yours for the rest of the night. 
No drugs. No distractions. Just you and him and whatever crappy movie he picked up from Family Video on the way back home.
Except, this Tuesday was a little different when Eddie barrelled through the door with a massive grin split across his face, already rambling about some new product his supplied had given him a few testers on. 
Hence, leading to the two of you staring at the somewhat disappointing chocolate bar.
“You’re being cynical,” he commented.
“I’m being realistic,” you retorted as you leaned over, plucking the bar between your fingers. There was no writing on the packaging, not a single word. It was just a simple black wrapper with a love heart plastered in the middle. You snorted at the sight. “Baby, you can’t seriously think this works?” 
Eddie only shrugged in response. 
You rolled your eyes, throwing the chocolate bar back down on the table. “You are too trusting in stupid shit.” 
“Hey, it’s never stopped that stupid shit being true in the past,” Eddie countered. “No one thought demogorgons were gonna be real now, did they?”
You gave him a pointed look. “Fair but—”
“Take it with me.”
You paused, your words faltering as you stared at him suspiciously. “What?”
“Take it with me,” he said as he reached for the bar of chocolate, waving it in a teasing manner. “If you’re so sure it’s a load of shit, then there is no harm in trying it, right? Worst case scenario, we enjoy a bit of chocolate and go about our lives knowing you were unfortunately right.”
Your lips twitched. “And best case scenario?” 
Eddie’s grin widened, boyish and cheeky and full of promises that made your thighs clench together. “We fuck like bunnies until the sun rises tomorrow morning.”
You snorted. “You have a way with words, Munson.”
But Eddie just extended the bar towards you. “First one to touch the other loses?” 
Your eyes narrowed on the bar, knowing very well that your boyfriend was baiting you. He was testing that competitive streak in you, that he was just goading you, tricking you. You knew that and yet, you still fell for it.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Munson.”
“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart.” 
The first hour passed and you didn’t feel any different. You could have laughed at how blatantly stupid the whole scenario was. The chocolate didn’t taste any different to a bar you could buy at the store, maybe a little bitter but you just assumed it was dark chocolate and moved on. 
You made your way into the kitchen, deciding to finish up dinner whilst Eddie sorted out the last of his inventory before you both found yourself settled on the small couch, plates of pasta in your hands as the movie Eddie picked played on the television.
On separate sides of the couch, of course. 
There was something like a smug smirk on your lips as you happily ate your dinner, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you because you knew you were right. It was a load of shit, just some dumb trick to fool people into spending whatever obscene amount dealers could charge them for ‘sex chocolate’. 
It was around thirty minutes into the second hour when you started to feel hot. 
Not flushed. Not warm.
Hot. 
Your body felt hot, like it was burning up. It was uncomfortable, but not in the way you expected. It wasn’t the kind of heat you felt when you stayed out in the sun for too long and your skin started to feel prickly. It wasn’t the heat when it was stuffy and muggy and the air clung onto you like a second skin. 
It was the kind of heat when Eddie would whisper something filthy in your ear when you were out, when his voice was a little raspy and strands of his hair tickled your neck as he told you every single dirty, little thing he wanted to do to you before walking away like nothing happened.
It was the kind of heat when his chest was pressed against your back, his hands running over every inch of your body as he slowly slid his cock inside you, letting you feel every inch until you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat.
It was the kind of heat that had you begging to feel every inch of him pressed against you, but even then it wasn’t enough. 
You wanted to ignore it. You tried to ignore it.
But it only led to you being painfully observant of everything around you. 
The inches that separated you and Eddie on the couch, a distance that wasn’t all that big considering it was a small couch, but now felt like an ocean between you. You wanted it gone. You wanted to crawl over and settle yourself into his side, to just feel his body against yours.
The way his hand wrapped around the beer can, the clinking of his rings against the metal can. You could see the drops of condensation rolling down the can, you knew it was just out of the fridge and it would leave his hands and rings just cold enough to make you shiver if he touched your heated skin. You wanted to feel him.
The way his tongue darted out, wetting his lips every few minutes as his eyes remained focused on the screen. The way he would tug his bottom lip between his teeth, lightly biting down when the movie got too intense. You wanted to be the one to bite his lip, to hear that little groan he would let out when you’d suck it between your lips. 
You fucking wanted him more than you had ever wanted him in your life. And as stupid and dramatic as it sounded, you thought you were going to end up burning a hole through the couch if he didn’t touch you soon.
“You’re drooling a little, baby.” 
You blinked, snapping out of your spiralling thoughts to find your boyfriend grinning at you, this time looking as smug as you did less than an hour ago. You cleared your throat, turning your gaze to the television as you pretended to understand whatever was happening on the screen.
“What were you thinking about?” Eddie continued to push, a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you squirm in your seat. 
“Taxes,” you stated bluntly.
He huffed out a laugh, his eyes falling down to your thighs as you clenched them together. “Didn’t realise taxes got you so worked up.”
“I find them riveting,” you continued.
“Really,” Eddie mused, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. It wasn’t close enough to touch you, but enough for you to be heavily aware of the ringed fingers a few mere inches away from you. “Nothing else is making you squirm?”
You instantly froze. “I’m not squirming.”
“You haven’t been able to sit still for the last twenty minutes, baby,” Eddie commented, his voice a little rougher as he spoke. “Bet you’re fucking soaked.
You stayed silent.
“You gonna admit it, sweetheart? Gonna admit you’re all worked up?” His words were like a phantom touch across your body. “Just sitting there, thinking how nice it would be just just feel my hand slide between your legs and touch your—”
“I’m actually fine,” you bit out, a little more high-pitched than you would have liked. “But it seems like you’re having some issues over there.”
“Baby, I’ve been as hard as a fucking rock since I came back home,” Eddie snorted as he eyed the shirt of his you had been prancing around in all day. “Don’t need some chocolate to make me wanna fuck you, but it’s definitely helping.”
Almost instinctively you glanced over, your eyes falling to his lap to see if he was telling the truth.
He was, and you almost instantly regretted looking.
He had changed into some sweatpants, and guessing by the tent in his trousers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t wearing boxers either. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightened as you stared at his bulge, imagining what it would feel like to just reach out. To wrap your hand around the length of him and listen to the way he would shatter under your touch before you wrapped your lips around his cock and—
“You’re drooling again, baby.”
Your eyes instantly snapped away again, your cheeks flushed and heated as you tried to focus on the movie again. But you didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t even know what the name of the movie was. All you could think about was Eddie’s cock. 
“Shit.”
Your head snapped around to look at him again when he let out a low groan, his head leaning back against the couch as he palmed the length of his cock over his sweatpants. Your lips parted, watching the way he twitched under the fabric.
“What…what are you doing?” 
His head turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “Never said anything about not touching ourselves,” he pointed out, squeezing his cock and letting out a pathetic noise. “Ah, fuck.”
Your mouth ran dry as you watched him. He was far more captivating to watch than the crappy movie, the way his chest heaved up and down with soft pants as he tried not to buck his hips. He was so fucking pretty and he was all yours, and you didn’t give two shits about the bet or anything else.
You wanted him and you were going to have him.
Eddie barely blinked before you were on top of him, straddling his waist as your hands reached for his face. His lips parted in surprise, a noise of surprise leaving his lips as his hands instantly moved to your hips, holding and clinging onto you like he had been wanting to do for the last two hours. 
“Baby—”
“Shut up,” you grumbled against his lips before you kissed him. 
It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It wasn’t sweet or loving or full of affection. It was sloppy and messy and desperate. It was needy and pathetic and it wasn’t doing enough to damper the heat that settled over your whole body since you ate that damn chocolate bar. You wanted more. You needed more. 
“Knew you’d give in,” Eddie murmured between shared kisses, groaning when you nipped his lip a little too hard. “Knew you’d be eating your own words.”
“Yes, whatever,” you snapped before pulling back, taking in his flushed cheeks and smug expression. “And now, I want you to fuck me, Munson. So, shut up and fuck me.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned as his hands dropped to your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he moved like he was getting ready to stand up, but your hand on his chest stopped him.
“No,” you whined, your words a little breathier than you realised. “Here. Need you to fuck me here, Eddie.”
“Here?” he cooed, a tinge of mockery twisted in his words and it just made you squirm on his lap. “My pretty girl that needy for me? You don’t even wanna go to the bedroom?”
“Eddie,” you choked out, wiggling on his lap until you felt his bulge brushing against the cotton fabric of your panties. “Shit, please.”
“Shhh, baby, I got you,” he murmured as his hand rested on your throat, his thumb brushing against your beating pulse. “Gonna give you everything you need.”
You were too impatient to pause even for a second, let alone long enough to strip out of your clothes. But Eddie was no better. Despite the patronising words and soft touches, he was fucking desperate to be inside of you. He had been desperate and regretting his words the second the deal left his lips, he was just glad you finally gave in. 
His sweatpants were pushed down enough for his cock to spring free, red and leaking and desperate to be inside of you. You hadn’t even lifted yourself off his lap to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side as you swiped the tip of his dick along your soaking folds before you finally sunk down on him.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—”
Your head fell to his shoulder, a muffled sob let out as you felt each inch of him slide inside you. His fingers were gripping the cheeks of your ass, squeezing and digging into your skin as he tried to hold back, as he tried to think about everything except the fact he wanted to come already.
That self restraint lasted all but thirty seconds before you were bouncing on his cock, before your nails were digging into his chest, before you were moaning like something out of a fucking porno. 
You had completely lost all care and inhibitions, and it was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen in his life.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the trailer, deafening the movie still playing on the screen. You bounced on his cock until you came once, twice, three times and it still wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him, you needed to feel every part of him until it was all you could think, smell and taste. 
There was a part of him that would care later, that would be mindful of the mess you had both made. The fact your release was soaking your thighs, his own and the couch beneath you. The fact that the trailer was stuffy and hot and probably smelt like sex. The fact that the remaining clothes you had kept on were all but shredded in a pile on the floor.
Those would all be things for him to care about later, but not when your face was pressed against the arm of the couch, nails digging into fabric of the couch as you wiggled your ass impatiently. 
“Please,” you all but sobbed, one hand reaching back for him. “Please, Eddie, I need you—”
His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his voice low and gruff and the whine that left your mouth was almost embarrassing. “Such a needy fucking slut.”
“Just need your cock,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tip nudge against your swollen clit. “Need you inside me, please.”
“My needy slut,” he murmured, another sloppy kiss placed against your lips before he sat up, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you would bruise by the morning, but you didn’t care. 
Not when he started to pound into you from behind, not when the noises leaving your lips were debauched and desperate and sending a thrill of pleasure down his spine. Not when he could feel your walls clenching around him, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with every thrust until he couldn’t help himself as his hand came down on your ass cheek.
The moan you let out only encouraged him to do it again.
“Shit, look at you,” he groaned, watching the way your needy cunt swallowed him whole with every buck of his hips. “S’like you were made f’me, baby, fucking made for my cock.”
Your moans were whiny and incoherent.
“Yeah? My little whore made for my cock?” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hips pressed against yours as he leaned over your body, as his chest pressed against your back and his arms wound around your body to grope your tits. “My little toy, hm?”
“Yours,” you murmured out, your lips parting in a silent scream as the coil deep in your stomach tightened. 
“My little toy gonna come?” he murmured, watching in delight the way you silently nodded, tears slipping down your face. “Come f’me, baby, let me feel you come.” 
 You were a mess by the time Eddie came too, a mix of your come and his own leaking out of you and onto the couch. Your skin was shiny with a layer of sweat, your body far too tired to even hold yourself up. And yet, still, you craved him. You craved more.
“Those chocolates are fucking dangerous,” Eddie murmured in amusement as he placed a bottle of water at your lips, lightly slapping your ass until you finally took a few gulps.
“Need you,” you whispered with a sniffle.
“Still?” He grinned before he joked. “Maybe we should do this every day.”
“Eddie,” you whined but he was there, he was always there to give you want.
“I know, baby, but gotta give you a lil’ break,” he murmured, and yet despite saying as much, you couldn’t help but let out a needy mewl when he slid back inside you, quick and easy considering how wet you still were. “Gonna keep you full, honey. I said until the morning, and I mean that.”
“Good,” you grumbled as you nuzzled yourself against his chest, still craving that closeness.
“Remind me to call Johnny tomorrow and ask for a bigger batch of those chocolates too.” 
You could only snort in response as Eddie placed a kiss against your temple.
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lovemyavatar · 1 year
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Hello, pretty! First of all your writing is so good, I'm hooked! And if u don't mind can I request a fluff (maybe smut?) of Neteyam being so clingy in public, that man can't keep his hands to himself fr and I know for a fact that he would always rub it in people faces (especially the one's who failed to court you) like he would throw a glare when he notices someone staring at you for a second too long before kissing you on the spot while looking straight into their eyes.
Mine
Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
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Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, mild angst, fluff, lil hint of smut
Yours (part two)
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Neteyam still can’t believe you chose him.
Despite being the future Olo’eyktan and a skilled warrior, he has a tendency to view himself as less than. But you…you are easily the most beautiful and sought after woman in the clan. So, despite the fact that you’re already mated, that you’ve chosen him for life, he constantly feels the need to assert his claim in the presence of other men.
Like in the morning, when you’re helping with meal preparation. You’re always in the same spot, washing the newest collection of fruit, so he’ll easily settle against your back without so much as a hello.
“Morning, yawntutsyip (darling).” A soft smile pulls at your lips, cheeks warming under the public display of affection.
Neteyam nuzzles against your shoulder, humming lowly as his lips caress the skin of your neck. His hands completely dwarf your hips, long fingers curling around them before gently guiding you closer to him. You instantly relax against the warmth of his chest, a contented sigh adding to the quiet morning bustle.
What you don't notice is the way his eyes scan the area, pointedly glaring at every man who dares glance in your direction. It's mostly accidental, really, few would openly challenge the future Olo'eyktan for his mate, but Neteyam doesn't see it that way. Every single look, touch, conversation is something he needs to monitor closely, ensuring it doesn't go too far.
When you sit with his family for meals, he crowds in close, until his arm presses against yours and his tail firmly wraps around your waist. If you'll be with any of his siblings for the day, he practically threatens them into watching you closely too.
On the rare occasion that he can't be physically near you, he does his best to remain within eyesight. His attention locks on you, on anyone who approaches you, mentally daring them to even try acting out of line. He isn't a violent person, but Eywa, he wouldn't hesitate to protect what's his.
He's always finding ways to touch you, and you love it. You aren't fully aware of his true motives, simply appreciating how smitten he seems to be. No matter how busy he is, he makes his adoration known with a simple brush of his hand along your back in passing, or a quick peck of his lips on yours before his father inevitably rips him away.
It's mostly innocent, his little routine, until someone who once courted you pushes him too far. There are only a few who dared vie for your affections at the same time as Neteyam.
Truthfully, you didn't pay any of them much attention, only accepting their courting gifts politely as you're expected to do. From the beginning, he had your heart, your decision was made early on and there wasn’t any real competition.
But still, to this day, if one of them gets too close, lingers for too long, Neteyam is instantly on high alert. Like right now.
He's absolutely seething, jaw clenched so firmly he fears he might crack a tooth. His short nails dig into his palms, fists tightened at the ready.
“Mawey (calm), Neteyam.” His grandmother demands roughly, forcing his fingers apart as she works on his battered chest. “You are too tense for wrapping.”
He lets his hands fall onto his thighs instead, fingers splayed and pressing harshly into his skin. His head sways side to side, peering over her as she kneels before him, tending to the injuries he suffered on the latest supply run.
He doesn't pay her poking and prodding any mind, full attention locked on you across the clearing. You're helping, as you always do, dutifully patching up the wounded. He had every intention of being the one beneath your gentle hands, but his grandmother got to him first. He tried, he really did, but there's no arguing with Mo'at.
His jaw grinds as he watches you rub yalnabark into a warriors shoulder. But not just any warrior, of course, it's one of the men who once tried to court you. His heart thrums harshly between his ribs when your head tilts back ever so slightly, a beautiful laugh twinkling from your lips.
Your lips that should only ever part that way for him. Your hands that should only ever touch him. A dangerous possessiveness brews deep wtihin his belly, whispering that everything about you is his. His to claim, to touch, to protect. Just simply his.
In an instant, he's on his feet. Completely ignoring his grandmother's protests—which he knows will get him into trouble later—but he can't find it within himself to care. There's no way he can endure this for even a moment longer.
He approaches swiftly, fists clenched all over again as he stalks toward you from behind. His face is marred with a dark glare, chin dipped, gaze molten beneath his thick brow.
“That's enough.” He barks roughly, large hand covering yours to peel it from the man's skin.
A tiny gasp lodges in your throat at his sudden presence, shoulders stiffening at the firm grasp. Your muscles relax a fraction when wide eyes find your mate, but the relief only lasts for a few seconds as you take in his furious state.
“Neteyam?” Your voice is gentle, questioning, as you place a comforting hand on his bicep.
He doesn't even glance your way, the full force of his wrath locked onto the other warrior.
“Find someone else to finish.” He orders, tone dripping with finality.
The man looks up at him with a blank expression, undeterred. “She's just patching me up, man.”
Neteyam's vision blurs, red dotting his periphery as his chest tightens with rage. Where you see a man simply defending the fact that what you were doing was completely innocent, Neteyam catches the way his lips twitch into a defiant smirk. Sees the challenge swelling just below the surface.
“Like I said, find someone else to do it.” Neteyam steps forward, spine straightening as he towers over the man, ready to pounce at any moment.
“‘Teyam...” His name is a warning under your breath as you move closer, urging him to calm down.
“What? You don't trust your girl or something?” Now, it's clear that was a direct challenge, and it makes you gasp in shock.
Neteyam doesn't hesitate, jerking forward until his fingers wrap firmly around the man's throat. You can't help but cry out, hands moving to cover your mouth as the situation quickly escalates. The man’s good arm instantly claws at the tight hold restricting his airflow, eyes widening in horror.
“Neteyam, please!” You hiss, pulling at his shoulder, panic gripping you as a few curious eyes drift your way.
Finally, he relents, releasing the man and letting you jerk him away. He’s trembling with pent up emotion, muscles coiled tight, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene. Not now, while the clan is regrouping after such a stressful mission.
“Disrespect my mate again, and I’ll show you what a real warrior is capable of.” He doesn’t even sound like himself, voice deep, the warning accented with a ferocious growl.
The man simply watches you drag Neteyam away, stunned that the always docile future Olo’eytkan actually fought back.
You don’t stop until you’ve reached your shared tent, practically shoving him through the entrance. It flaps shut harshly behind you as you stomp in after him, hands resting on your hips when he turns to face you. His ears flatten at your agitation, head dipping in shame.
“What the hell was that?” You snap, fiery gaze boring into his pointedly.
“I didn’t like the way you were touching him.” He knows he took it too far, knows you did nothing wrong, but there’s no escaping the anger that still courses through him. He fights to keep his tone even when he speaks to you, desperate not to make the situation worse.
“You mean when I was tending to his wounds?” Your hands wave animatedly in exasperation, scoffing at the absurdity of it all. “I’m the future Tsahik. What do you want me to do?”
He growls low in his chest, stalking forward until you’re face to face, a mere few inches between you. “You are mine. You agreed to that when we mated. I have every right—”
“You have no right!” You can’t help but shout as frustration curls in your stomach. Your fingers shove against his chest lightly, careful to avoid his freshly wrapped injuries. “You don’t see me threatening other women for simply existing in your presence, do you?”
He forces a tense breath through pursed lips, trying to calm down. This is quickly turning into a fight between the two of you, which is the last thing he wants. He reaches out, fingers gently curling around your arms to stop you from pacing before him.
“I’m sorry, yawne (beloved). I just…I can’t stand the thought of anyone…taking you from me.” His voice is soft, quiet, face tightening as the words leave him. It’s difficult to admit this, to bring attention to his deepest insecurity.
He is the son of Toruk Makto, a mighty warrior, and the future leader of the clan. He isn’t supposed to feel such things, to worry about losing you to another. He’s supposed to exude hard edges and confidence at all times. Not weakness, like he shows now as he stands before you, bearing it all.
“Oh, Nete.” You coo, eyes rounding as you cup his cheek softly. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed with a heavy sigh.
You had no idea he held this turmoil inside, was fighting to remain stoic while watching your every interaction with another. It all makes sense now, his constant desire to keep you close. It wasn’t coming from a place of love, but rather uncertainty.
“I am yours, okay? Come here.” Your gentle touch guides him those last few inches closer, until his lips brush yours in a light caress.
He responds eagerly, relief flooding his system at the fact that you aren’t upset with him, that you understand. His palms skim down your arms before releasing you so he can engulf your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
His tongue parts your lips, laying claim to your mouth as he groans slowly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The kiss quickly becomes feverish, passionate as the desire to assert his ownership of you becomes overwhelming.
You pull away suddenly, fingers tangling in his braids to tug his lips from yours. He growls in protest, chasing your touch as you lean back a few inches. Your heavy-lidded gaze meets his, chest heaving as your heart thrums wildly.
“How do you want me?” You purr, sultry eyes blinking up at him through thick lashes.
“What?” He pants, breathless from the insinuation beneath your words alone. His tail twitches to attention at his back, swaying with excitement.
“I will prove that no other man could even come close to taking me away. Now, how do you want me?” Your fingertips trail down the column of his throat, causing a shiver to roll down his spine.
“On your knees.” The command is gritted through clenched teeth, cock already straining behind his loincloth.
You instantly obey, slowly kneeling before him, hands smoothing down his broad chest and tight stomach on the way down. Your fingers make quick work of releasing his pulsing length, gaze flicking over the huge appendage eagerly as it springs free. Sharp teeth catch your lower lip, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation.
Your eyes catch his just as your mouth closes around his swollen tip, watching in satisfaction as a long moan rumbles his chest, head tilting back at the feeling.
You settle into the floor, finding a comfortable position, ready to show him just how much you belong to him, and only him.
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let me know if you guys want a smutty part two 👀
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melzula · 1 month
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Okay I have an request
So like we are azula and zuko sister and we adored by both but like in the catacombs we choose gaang over azula and zuko of this and please can y/n x sokka and now zuko now wants to join gaang and yeah I am not good with words I hope u understand what I said😁
Y/n can be a firebender or non bender its ur choice anyway
a/n: okay so there’s a lot to tackle in this request which is why i chose to do it as headcanons so i hope you don’t mind !
summary: being the middle child isn’t easy, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula
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As the only non-bender and middle child of the royal family, you never felt like you mattered
You were the Black Swan of the palace, a disgrace to your father and his image
You kept to yourself, staying in the shadows and out of his way while your siblings took the spotlight
However, just because your father looked down upon you didn’t mean your siblings shared his sentiment
In fact, they adored you
Zuko was an attentive older brother. He let you follow him everywhere, defended you against anyone who dared speak badly about you, and was your shoulder to cry on whenever your father was feeling particularly cruel
He saw you for who you were, and who you were was an intelligent, kind, talented young woman meant to do great things in her lifetime
Azula, while being particularly mean to Zuko at times, never once treated you the way she saw her brother
Despite you being a nonbender, she surprisingly never speaks down to you or makes you feel less than
It could be because she doesn’t see you as competition as she does Zuko, or maybe she truly does just feel genuine sisterly love for you
Maybe it’s because whenever she felt your mother was unfairly favoring your brother over her, you were always there to assure her that she was a wonderful bender and just as important
Maybe it’s because sometimes she wished you could be her mother instead
Whatever her reasoning, Azula sees you as a comforting presence in her life. She seeks your validation constantly almost as much as your father’s, and she’d do anything to protect you and your honor
Things became worse for you when Ursa left. She could no longer intervene when your father felt like tormenting you, and your siblings knew better than to say anything in your defense. Shortly after her banishment, Ozai deems it best to send you away to the academy since he has no other use for you
Your departure is hard for both siblings. Zuko is gutted that he can no longer be there to protect you or look after you. Though she acts as if she couldn’t care less, Azula is devastated at your leaving. Her source of comfort is being ripped away from her, and she has no one to look out for her
At the academy you learn various forms of physical combat and weaponry wielding. You’re especially fond of using tanto swords in battle and they’ve become your weapon of choice when in a fight
Zuko and Azula send you letters during your stay at school behind your father’s back updating you about your home, their lives, and their annoyance of each other. You keep every single one they send, and it eases the ache of your home sickness
It’s also at the school that you learn of the Agni Kai and Zuko’s banishment. Your heart breaks for your older brother, and you’re devastated at the fact that you never got the chance to say goodbye and you may never see him again. He still sends letter for a time, but as the years pass they become less frequent and almost nonexistent. Azula’s letters follow the same path
Years pass and your father deems it time for you to come home. Now that you’ve made a decent fighter out of yourself he finds your worthy of being his daughter again
However, your stay is short lived. Azula recruits you to be part of her little team to capture the Avatar and your brother, and you don’t really have any other choice but to agree
You downplay how skilled you are in fighting so that she doesn’t expect much from you and force you to do too much of the work. You don’t want to go against her, but you also don’t want to have to fight your brother and your uncle
You also don’t exactly feel good about destroying the world’s last hope for peace
And that’s why, when the time comes, you choose the Avatar over your siblings
You’re tired of being pulled back and forth, of always being stuck between your siblings with no real purpose, of not being able to do anything for yourself
Zuko is astonished by your choice and conflicted. Just when he finally had found his way back into the family you chose to leave it. Why were you doing this? Why were you ruining everything?
Azula is furious. Your betrayal hurts worse than mother’s. You’d always taken her side, always comforted her and supported her, you’d always been there, and now you were leaving. How dare you leave her?
“You fool!” She’d cried, angrily sending a blast of blue flames your way knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop it. If not for Iroh, surely her strike would have ended you. The fact that your own sister was willing to hurt you for the cause was enough proof to know you were making the right decision
You help the Avatar escape and join his group, vowing to help them in any way you can to win the war. Your fighting skills and knowledge of the Fire Nation makes you a big help and they appreciate your assistance
It doesn’t take long for you to win their trust and acclimate into their group. You become fast friends with everyone, growing especially close to Sokka who may or may not have a huge crush on you
He definitely becomes your shoulder to lean on when things get tough, because he knows it can’t be easy for you to just leave all you’ve ever known behind. you struggle constantly over having to choose the Avatar over your siblings, but he constantly assures you that you’ve made the right choice
Least to say your departure makes Zuko’s return home even more conflicting and turmoil filled. How can he enjoy being back home when you’re not there to enjoy it with him? How could he be happy knowing his sister was out there risking her life to help the Avatar?
Your decision definitely inspires his own to leave the Fire Nation and aid Aang and his friends
Your abandonment of your siblings also fuels Azula’s descent into madness, fueling her fire to continue her mission to capture the Avatar
It’s a rough position you’ve found yourself in, but it’s not like your whole life hasn’t been you stuck in a terrible spot
Being the middle child is hard, especially when your siblings are Zuko and Azula
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allfearstofallto · 1 month
Note
Wow I loved your latest child piece, do you think he would try desperately to make his sons like him? Give them gifts and go fishing together with his oldest son? I mean he can see that the kid is terrified of him but he tries to reassure him but to no avail. I think he would let his anger out on some of his poor Fatui men or on his missions whenever these moments happen to him. That’s so angsty how Childe loves his family but they only see him as the monster they think he is.
Y'all I actually really do like writing for yandere Childe's family!! The angst is so fucking good!!
But since I can't keep up with the nameless kids, the older boy is Adonis and the younger one is Damon
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Yandere Themes, Reader has children, mentions of previous abuse
“You look so cute all bundled up like that, my sweet,” you praised your older son, even patting his head and squeezing his cheeks the way you knew he liked. Yet nothing you were doing could lift the dark cloud that was over him, the fear in his eyes was paralyzing and he was gripping the hem of your dress so tightly, you thought he'd rip it if he were made to let go.
“P-pl-please don't send me away, mommy,” Little Adonis whimpered through tears and you felt your heart shatter. Orange hair framing his face, you brushed it to the side. You hated just how much they looked like their father, his genes so strong they were like little carbon copies of him. And their cries always tugged at your heart, you hated that he made you feel empathy for his face
With your other son still on your hip, you tried to comfort both boys. Finding it difficult to soothe with your hands full. Adonis had gone from whimpering and labored breaths to full blown sobbing at this point, wiping the tears from his chubby cheeks with the backs of his mittens. You tried to stop him from crying, tried to get him to calm down. When the older one cried, so did the younger, and soon Damon was also in your arms shedding tears.
“Your father just wants to take you out for a bit,” your voice was shaky as you tried to reassure him, “You won't even be far. The pond is only a short walk away.” Your words fell on deaf ears as they continued to cry, both of them getting your dress wet with their fat tears.
“What's all the commotion?” The voice that asked this question somehow managed to make both of your children suck their tears up quickly and fall into an almost scary silence. They peaked up at you, waiting for your response to Ajax, who was giving you his usual charming smile.
“I- I just don't think Adonis is very fond of the snow,” you spoke quickly while patting the boy's head, even cupping his cheeks to try and wipe away some of the wetness from his face.
If Childe noticed how tense the entire family has become at his presence he didn't speak on it. Instead he took a knee right in front of his son, also reaching up to pat the boy's head, but he flinched away from his father's touch. You squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly to hold him in place, making him look up at you in a way that broke your heart. He felt as if you were betraying him, but you knew better, what Childe could do to him was much much worse.
“That's nonsense. He's from Snezhnaya, he should love the snow,” he finally got to pet Adonis’ head. His large hand that was covered in scars and callous practically getting lost in the orange locks.
“Maybe he takes more after me,” you took Childe's hand, trying to put his attention more on you instead, “It doesn't even get cold in Liyue. You remember how much I hated it here when I first arrived, don't you?”
His eyes went dark for a moment as he squeezed your hand a little too tightly, “You hated it here for a lot of reasons.”
“But the cold was the worst part,”
“Adonis will be fine,” he spoke while placing a kiss upon your lips, then one on Damon's forehead, “My father took me ice fishing when I was practically an infant.”
“I-i suppose,” words muttered with your head down.
The two of them slipped on their boots together, with Childe even helping his son tie his. You felt on edge watching the both of them leave out the door. It was the first time that you'd ever left Childe alone with him, and the instinct inside of you that was telling you to protect them was on high alert. There was nothing you feared more than your husband.
But nothing could be done. Childe kissed you again on the lips and you pressed your forehead to your sons, quietly whispering words of assurance to him and most of all Please be good.
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loaksky · 1 year
Text
— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮
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the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.
the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)
the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake. 
the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!
the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs
masterlist
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SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice. 
It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick. 
Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented. 
Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you. 
Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire. 
He hates it. He hates you. 
He thinks. 
It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth. 
But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him. 
It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you. 
Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone. 
Like now, you linger. 
It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them. 
Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over. 
Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin. 
“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes. 
Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger. 
“We going or what?” he finally says. 
You perk up. 
“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.
Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly. 
“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents. 
You roll your lips and shift on your feet. 
“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful. 
Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours. 
“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.” 
Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible. 
You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes. 
“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up." 
You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off. 
“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh. 
“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles. 
“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”
Lo'ak sneers. 
“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.
“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”
Lo'ak's spine stiffens.
“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.” 
Kiri rolls her eyes hard. 
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There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you. 
“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam. 
He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand. 
“Hi,” he says flatly. 
“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet. 
His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare. 
“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face. 
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat. 
A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him. 
His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows. 
“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”
You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure. 
“My birthday's coming up,” you start. 
“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs. 
It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest. 
“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you. 
“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone. 
You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens. 
“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”
Friend. 
He scowls at the term.
“We're not friends,” he bites back. 
If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face. 
“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly. 
“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp. 
He leaves you in the clearing on your own.
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You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice. 
“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head. 
His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply. 
“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”
“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly. 
“But, Dad!”
“Lo'ak.”
Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off. 
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“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle. 
The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target. 
Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot. 
You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile. 
“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.” 
Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target. 
His heart sinks. 
“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.
He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two. 
He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn. 
“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs. 
“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest. 
You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path. 
He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora. 
“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel. 
His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks. 
“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!” 
His chest rises and falls with a scoff. 
“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood. 
Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage. 
“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face. 
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly. 
“You are my friend,” you protest quietly. 
Lo’ak rolls his eyes. 
“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you. 
“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?” 
Friends. 
That stupid fucking word again.
Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path. 
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Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.
“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle. 
As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother. 
“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.” 
“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised. 
Lo’ak’s face scrunches.
“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”
“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.” 
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”
“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns. 
“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”
A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates. 
“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.” 
Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat. 
“No thanks,” he says flatly.
You try to coax him. 
“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.” 
“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up. 
You offer up the plate again. 
“Lo’ak–“ 
“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed. 
He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground. 
“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds. 
“Shit, I didn’t–”
“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.” 
“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering. 
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“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.” 
Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–
“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”
“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.” 
“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters. 
“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.” 
“Dad!” 
“Go, Lo’ak.” 
Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose. 
“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air. 
He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology. 
When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye. 
He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction. 
“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief. 
You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. 
A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest. 
Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about. 
When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile. 
“I wanted to–”
“I came to–”
Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy. 
“You first,” you offer. 
Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing. 
“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm. 
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.” 
You shake your head quickly. 
“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him. 
He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you. 
You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile. 
You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn. 
Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam. 
“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation. 
He shrugs. 
“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.” 
The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face. 
“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?” 
No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly. 
It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night. 
“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly. 
“I dunno, green?” he offers. 
“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly. 
Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head. 
“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.” 
He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal. 
“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages. 
Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up. 
“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.
You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet. 
“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.” 
Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion. 
“What?” he asks. 
You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him. 
“Nothing.” 
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Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session. 
And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you. 
He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off. 
And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade. 
Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended. 
“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips. 
Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars. 
“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.” 
“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night. 
And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has. 
But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries. 
The words are leaving him before he can stop them. 
“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.” 
The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.
“I’m not perfect,” you assure him. 
“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.” 
You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile. 
“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.” 
Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.
You continue. 
“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.” 
Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments. 
“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.” 
“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.” 
“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
You nod, smiling at him. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”
Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.
Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night. 
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After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring. 
“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village. 
“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed. 
Kiri shrugs. 
“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.” 
You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully. 
“Yeah?” you wonder
So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower. 
It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist. 
Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat. 
He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.
There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again. 
But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw. 
“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands. 
You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff. 
“Hey,” he replies hesitantly. 
“Where you going?” you ask curiously.
His throat bobs as he gestures behind him. 
“Hunting,” is all he says.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.
He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control. 
Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard. 
“No,” he says.
And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly. 
“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?” 
“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.” 
“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–” 
“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too. 
You try again anyways. 
“It’ll be good practice and–”
“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.” 
Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek. 
Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch. 
“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”
The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face. 
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Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later. 
You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.
Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore. 
You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully. 
“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”
There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates. 
“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone. 
“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles. 
“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.” 
You frown. 
Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud. 
“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?” 
“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent. 
“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs. 
Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.
His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further. 
“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him. 
He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut. 
“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”
“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level. 
“But you’re–”
“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.
Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle. 
You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree. 
You follow after him. 
“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects. 
He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.” 
You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off. 
He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels. 
“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”
“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!” 
You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you. 
“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry. 
“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!” 
You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles. 
“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper. 
“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!” 
The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you. 
“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.” 
Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat. 
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You dropped your journal. 
Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands. 
It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet. 
He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been. 
“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal. 
It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open. 
He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch. 
“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued. 
“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers. 
“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?” 
Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.
“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides. 
A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers. 
“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. 
Spider winces behind him. 
“You serious?” 
Lo’ak sighs. 
“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…” 
“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.” 
Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him. 
“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.” 
“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.” 
Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him. 
He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.
“Did you at least apologize?” 
Lo’ak squirms.
“Dude!” 
“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation. 
“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“ 
“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs. 
“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.” 
“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps. 
“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?” 
He blinks at the human. 
“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.” 
“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.
“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”
“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply. 
“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.” 
Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook. 
“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly. 
Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off. 
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It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.
At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths. 
It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind. 
I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis. 
As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him. 
He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you. 
It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late. 
After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.
As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver. 
A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling. 
Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar. 
“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.
It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face. 
When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them. 
“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves. 
A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it. 
“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head. 
A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him. 
As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze. 
“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.” 
Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read. 
“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand. 
“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.” 
His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him. 
His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it. 
He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping. 
It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you. 
You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—
Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain. 
It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished. 
Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind. 
It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap. 
It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.
As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh. 
Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath. 
Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know. 
he is like the sun,
shines so bright,
but burns the closer you get. 
Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting. 
he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him. 
His chest heaves as the words blur. 
Fearless. 
Fearless. 
Fearless. 
In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward. 
He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye. 
Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time. 
likes green and blue. 
likes yovo fruits. 
The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest. 
When he turns the page, his breath hitches. 
In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes. 
Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another. 
The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star. 
He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like. 
Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease. 
His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones. 
Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river. 
A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide. 
Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you. 
You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself. 
He stands from the hammock and runs. 
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You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.
Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.
As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins. 
You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape. 
“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.” 
You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him. 
You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. 
Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm. 
“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay. 
“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.” 
The tears well on their own. 
We’re not friends. We never were and we never will. 
The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches. 
“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”
“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.” 
He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below. 
“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.” 
Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky. 
“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.” 
“I do, _________, I do!” he argues. 
He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you. 
You shake your head again.
“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.” 
“Stop–”
“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”
“No, _________. Wait!” 
You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness. 
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Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better. 
She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence. 
“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat. 
Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task. 
It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest. 
“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his. 
Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze. 
“I hurt someone,” he says quietly. 
Neytiri stiffens.
“What?” 
“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.” 
“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. 
Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression. 
“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.” 
Lo’ak swallows. 
“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?” 
You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly. 
“I really messed things up, Mom,” Lo’ak says quietly. “I don’t…” 
Neytiri’s hand comes to Lo’ak chest. 
“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.” 
Lo’ak swallows. 
“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.” 
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Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.
His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines. 
“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines. 
“Why should I help you with your mess?” 
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You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment. 
He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd. 
Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show. 
Be brave. 
He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space. 
You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips. 
“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him. 
You remain jaded.
“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background. “________,” Lo’ak tries again. 
You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side. 
“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder. 
The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday. 
She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you. 
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He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact. 
He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet. 
He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely. 
It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right. 
Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt. 
They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart. 
“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.” 
Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve. 
Be brave. Sometimes that is enough. 
Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids. 
“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.” 
The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push. 
“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees. 
“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage. 
“I’ll only be a second!” 
“Wait, Kiri!” 
Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path. 
“Good luck, egghead!”
Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself. 
You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams. 
“Oh, you were–”
You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls. 
“Lo’ak…” 
“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes. 
You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet. 
“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him. 
He scratches the back of his head. 
“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer. 
“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads. 
You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly. 
You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat. 
The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.
His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream. 
“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you. 
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.” 
“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.” 
He swallows.
“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.” 
You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words. 
“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.” 
When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him. 
He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes. 
“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.” 
You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek. 
“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.” 
You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot. 
“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 
Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you. 
“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?” 
He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze. 
“Did you…” 
“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”
“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?” 
“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening. 
“Lo’ak, don’t–”
“How long?” he presses desperately. 
Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push. 
“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.” 
Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines. 
“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”
You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.
“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.” 
He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out. 
“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief. 
“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.” 
He lets out a shaky breath. 
“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.” 
Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head. 
“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him. 
“Please.” 
His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours. 
“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.” 
Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope. 
“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers. 
You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss. 
He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you. 
To being loved by you. 
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BONUS
“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…” 
Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones. 
“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.” 
Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by. 
His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift. 
“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.” 
You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you. 
A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself. 
“Lo’ak, wow…” 
“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.” 
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an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx
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neng © 2023
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taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn
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lillithhearts · 3 months
Note
is it okay if I ask for Alastor x Reader who is like angel dusts sibling and reader goes to Angel dust you talk about their lasting crush on Alastor?
Alastor x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
EVERYONE SHUT UP! YES I LOVE WINGMAN ANGEL
Not proofread + 4:30 Lilly so writing might differ
Reader is Gender neutral!
Being Angels sibling wasn't easy, at least within in the hotel..or outside of it for that matter; but in the hotel it was definitely better, at least everyone didn't try and talk to you about your brother and instead talk to you.
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You however had your eyes on someone very specific, a person not many people would have their eyes on..well, Maybe your brother in a— joking fucking around type of way; but your eyes were looking at the Tall Red demon in a very different way; a fond way you weren't all that used to.
Thing is you were the youngest in your family, that didn't rid you of your family's habits and mannerisms, So you weren't surprised when you ended up in hell alongside most of your family but your brother had kept you away from many scenes, that included partners; so your new found feelings for the Demon were overwhelming, suffocatingly so and you had no idea where to go with it, that lead you to go to the only person you trust in this newly found shit hole
"Anthony?"
"what's up, sweet cheeks?"
Angel was still not used to being called by his real name, But it was allowed in private from prying ears; he set fat nuggets down and sat up on the side of the bed; patting a spot next to him gesturing you to sit with him, a familiar smile on his face while you scooted next to him
"what's on your mind?"
"Alastor."
"oh—"
Angel laughed as you covered your face with your hands, His name bluntly slipping past your lips as you cringed at yourself
"he's like the Boogeyman, don't say his name too loud or he'll appearrr"
You smacked his arm and laughed, watching Angel make "scary" gestures as you both giggled amongst one another, before you patted your thighs and dramatically inhaled and sighed
"yeah yeah.. Boy troubles aye? Been there"
"yeah so help me"
"with him, Sweetie I can pray that's it"
"Anthony!!"
"sorry sorry!!"
Your big brother kneeled over laughing as you scoffed at him, crossing your arms with a pout as you cleared Your throat
"ANYWAY, I need help, I have no idea how to approach him— if at all!"
It took the spider demon a bit to compose himself Before he ran his fingers through his hair before looking at you, a sincere genuine look on his face, his voice soft and gentle; just like you remembered
"I don't know mister cheeky Alastor that much, but he does seem to like you, so I'd say go slow; test the waters or he might rip you to shreds"
You tensed, he was right and you were playing a dangerous game trying to woo the radio demon and you knew that but what'd you have to lose?..oh right your life yeah yeah
Falling flat on the soft bed you groaned; Alastor was tricky especially for someone who'd never flirted in their life so this was uncharted territory and you weren't exactly starting on beginner mode, you skipped straight to expert. Angel soon joined you in laying on the bed, him to staring at the ceiling as you pondered and wondered, He was probably zoning out but whatever, but after moments of silence Anthony soon realized this was a heavy topic on your heart so he turned on his side, pulling you to his side; one of his hands ruffling your hair
"worry about that tomorrow will you? You need your beauty sleep; Alastor won't date a slob"
"what won't I do?"
"AAAAHHHHH"
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Authors note: Sorry for the ending Im starting to get a headache😭😭
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faeriichaii · 3 months
Note
hi!! i’ve never requested smth before but your writing is so good im gonna give it a shot💫 could i request a legolas x human reader where she somehow accidentally touches his pointy ears not knowing that they’re sensitive for elves and legolas asks her to keep doing it (fluff/like half smut more like teasing maybe?) and legolas is just this soft baby who begs her for her touch 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Sensitive ~ Legolas x Human!Reader
A/N: Thank you so much!! You're like so sweet <33 Oh that sounds very interesting 🤭 I like the idea!! I think I once read like one with a bunch of the elves where the reader accidentally touches their ears and like!! So I hope you enjoy the story <33 (and ngl I was so close to turn it into a smut rip)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit smut (if you squint your eyes) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 875 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aini Nin ~ My Angel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Gi Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ
Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears
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You loved keeping watch during the night. Everything seemed so calm and quiet and it was the only time of the day where you really get the chance to be by yourself. Where you get the chance to think about everything that happened so far and everything that still has to come. Sometimes Legolas joins you during your watch times. These were your favourite moments with him. You always have the most wonderful talks and share your thoughts with each other.
Being alone with him fills you up with joy and warmth. One could almost say you get drunk by his intoxicating charm that he shares specifically with you. Both of you were once more sitting on the logs, around a fire that has been put out for quite some time now, talking about the future ahead. “Do you think your father will like me?” You suddenly asked him, using a stick to draw a heart onto the dirt beneath you. “There is no way he could not. He will adore you as much as I do Aini Nin.”
A bashful smile graced your lips, as you wrote your initial, as well as his into the heart. “I can’t wait to meet your hometown my love. And your father. I want to see everything and get to know all about Mirkwood.” Looking up at him, you caught him already staring at you. His eyes were shining with love and care for you. “And I wish to visit your hometown. Learn all about your family and the customs you share.”
His arm snaked around your waist, in order to pull you into his warm side. Dropping the stick you used for your small drawing, you leaned into him. “Do you think we should take Gimli with us?” A laugh escaped Legolas lips at the thought of the dwarf running around the palace grounds. “I think that would either end up in multiple deaths or banishment on his side.” Chuckling at his response, you leaned your head onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“I love you.” You said, gazing up at him lovingly. “Gi melin, Meleth Nin.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips, which you immediately reciprocated. You still were looking at him, shining in the moonlight like an angel sent from heaven, as you noticed one of his braids getting loose. “Oh Legolas, can I re-braid your hair?” “Of course.” With that you stood up to take your place on his lap. His hands gently laid on your waist, as you undid his hairdo.
“I wish I had soft hair like you do.” You said, brushing your fingers through his white strands. “Your hair is already perfect as it is Aini Nin.” He softly whispered, as he leaned into your touch. A gentle smile graced your lips. Quickly giving him a loving kiss on his temple, you resumed your work on his hair. Parting the strand into a few sections, you began to weave your fingers through them. The quietness of the forest was interrupted, as Legolas let out a hitched breath. You raised an eyebrow at the sound that escaped him but continued to braid his hair.
His hands tightened around your hips, as your fingers accidentally brushed against his ear. You noticed that his ears slowly gained a red colour by the tips. A smirk played on your lips, as you let your hand brush against his pointy ear once more. Legolas let out another shaky sigh. “Are you alright my love?” You asked him, playfulness evident in your words. “Yes, it’s just… my ears. They are sensitive.” A little giggle left your lips, as you abandoned the braid and instead focused on his ear. You gently let your fingers trail along the pointy form. The elf underneath you let out a soft whine at your touch, slightly leaning into your hand.
His breathing got ragged, hips also moving up into you while pressing you down on him. “Should I stop Meleth Nin?” You innocently asked, playing with the tip of his ear. “No, please. Don’t stop.” A whine followed his words, as you put your other hand around his other ear, massaging both of them equally. Warmth spread through your body at the sounds that escaped your lover underneath you. The elven prince tried his best to keep as subtle and quiet as possible, in order to not wake up the others around you. “Do you love it when I play with your beautiful elven ears?” “Yes.” His breathy answer was muffled, as he hid his face in your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. Legolas cheeks were rosy and so were your own. You knew that elves could endure quite a lot, but you did not expect them to have wobbly knees after just a touch to the ears.
Suddenly you stopped your little ministration, making the prince underneath you whine sadly. “I am sorry my love, but you don’t want to wake the others now, do you?” You said, smirking slightly at his flustered expression. His hands tightened around your waist, as he brought you closer. His warm breath hit your ear. “You are going to regret this.”
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wileys-russo · 7 months
Text
childhood sweethearts (6) II a.russo x reader
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series playlist part one part two part three part four part five
thank you all for the feedback for what you want to see! not sure for how long this little story of mine will go for yet but i appreciate all ur support of it sm childhood sweethearts (6) II a.russo x reader
you kissed her.
alessia tensed up at first before pushing you off, eyes wide in shock at what just happened. though that shock only lasted a mere second as just as suddenly she'd pushed you away she was balling your hoodie in her fists, yanking your body back into hers and smashing her lips to your own again.
the kiss was messy and it was rushed, trying desperately to make up for all the time that had passed since the last one. though unlike when you were younger alessia's lips weren't chapped, they were soft and welcoming, her tongue darting into your mouth as her hand tangled itself in your hair and you grabbed onto her waist tightly.
you hated how kissing her still felt the same as it did all those years ago, and that no one you'd kissed since then even came close in giving you these same butterflies. her touch making your lips tingle and your head spin, you were drunk on her and drunk on the way she made you feel, how years later she still knew exactly how to treat you and your body.
but as much as you were drowned in an overwhelmingly familiar euphoria, every nerve in your body on fire and commanded to attention at the feeling of alessia's lips on yours, it was too much.
no one prepares you for your first love. the way your stomach drops when you realise its love, the awkwardly clumsy first touches as you learn your ways around one anothers bodies, jaws aching from how hard you smile at anything and everything your lover does.
but if they can't prepare you for your first love then how is anyone expected to know what your first heartbreak feels like, and the gaping hole it leaves not just in your heart and your head but your life.
gone is your person, the one steady continuance which you know you can go to for comfort, the person you spend all your free time with and when you're not with them you're thinking about them.
but when its that person whose causing all your hurt, who rips out your heart from your chest like its nothing, who do you go to for comfort? for a reprise from the ongoing dull ache in that hole in your chest?
just as much as all the passion and the pleasure came hurtling upwards to the surface as you fiercely kissed alessia, so did the heartbreak, and the betrayal. the end of the carefully curated trust you once held so dear, moving swiftly into when you would welcome the nights spent silently crying yourself to sleep, chest heaving as you muffled your sobs into your pillow.
you'd lived a lie after you'd found out alessia's intent to leave you without an explanation and decided to leave her first. brushing off your families comments about how excited you must be for alessia, ignoring the sharp ongoing twist of the knife in your back anytime they mentioned her name as if everything was fine and normal.
you'd hum and smile, forcing yourself through some half cocked lie about helping her pack, about how happy you were that she was going to get all these new opportunities in america.
going as far as even joking about how you'd need to make sure your passport was in date so you could visit her. the words stung in your throat like you'd swallowed razor blades, mouth burning like someone had shoved a red hot poker on your tongue.
but it was too raw, too painful, too hard to be honest about what happened. it would mean revealing a lot more than just losing her, but rather who she was to you when you lost her, and you just weren't ready for that.
you knew your family would have accepted you, in fact looking back now you really weren't sure what it was which held you back from coming out. maybe it was the fact you needed to come out at all, you still liked boys, but you loved alessia, and so did they.
but you weren't ready. so you forced smiles and nods, taking each uppercut with a grin plastered on your face, wearing a mask that everything was fine and okay.
but overtime you grew tired of wearing that mask and taking those jabs, tired of the lies and the pain they brought with them, why should you even have to lie? to spare alessias good reputation? or to conceal your own truth?
so overtime you'd made more of an effort to change the topic when she'd pop up, you'd make excuses not to be home when you knew the russo's were coming over. you spent more time with your university friends, throwing yourself head first into an overly active social life. tip toeing around the truth that you'd not spoken a proper word to alessia since the day you'd broke up with her.
thats not to say the blonde hadn't tried.
every day during those two weeks before she flew out to the states she'd called, messaged, sent flowers, even showed up to your doorstep.
but you'd ignore her every attempt, throwing yourself into preparing for your own university acceptance while navigating your first heart break and pretending everything was fine and dandy, no easy feat to juggle really.
and after a few weeks of embracing your new friends and your new life, you realised you didn't want her to see that. why should she have any right to see what you were doing without her? see what she lost when she left you?
so you blocked her number, removed her from your social medias, explained to your parents that the two of you just hadn't been talking much anymore with the timezones and with being in such different places in your life.
you'd drifted you told them, asking over and over for your mum to stop pestering you to get coffee with her and carol, explaining that you had new friends, new hobbies, that people grow apart and you were fine with this.
on the other hand with every attempt to reconcile things with you or explain herself further shot down, not that she was even sure what she'd say if you gave her the time, alessia eventually swallowed her pride and accepted the loss, backing off and doing as you'd asked, putting all of her focus into this new chapter, without you.
after all this was what she wanted. this was easier. it wasn't, it wouldn't ever be. but she refused to accept the truth and instead drowned herself in the dangerous denial that she'd not done anything wrong.
you were the problem. you'd not been supportive. you'd not have been able to do distance for four years. you had broken up with her and it was the right thing for both of you.
did alessia believe a word of that? never. but without you there to ground her all she could do was to continue to affirm these things over and over, desperate to convince herself that you were the vilian in her story.
she'd told her family not to mention UNC to you from the moment she'd signed that contract, claiming she was keeping it as a secret to everyone and planned to tell all of her friends at the same time not wanting anyone feeling left out.
they'd been surprised at this of course, and alessia lied through her teeth saying she'd mentioned thinking about maybe going overseas for football and you were supportive, but that she hadn't confirmed anything yet and this was an entirely new situation for her to come to terms with and she needed time to do so, and her family respected that.
of course they weren't to know that alessia didn't just love you, she was in love with you. they didn't know that when she left she'd have been leaving her girlfriend behind, not her best friend. they were none the wiser of what alessia was giving up, of how much her heart ached at the thought of you, the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes at any mention of your name.
if anything that was yet another regret she held, not coming clean to her family about the fact you weren't just her best friend, at the time you were her everything and so much more.
alessia knew you meant as much to her family as you did to her, you were their second daughter and they adored you. they wouldn't have cared that the two of you were more than just best friends, alessia had known that from the moment she first kissed you and realised she loved you the way she was supposed to love boys.
and maybe if they had known the truth about the two of you they might have been able to talk some sense into her about what she did, what she lost, maybe stopped her from making such a life altering mistake.
because you weren't the villian in her story, you were the victim. and it had taken a lot of years of self work and reflection for alessia to completely accept that. accept that she was the problem, it was her mistake, her who had broken your heart and caused you an unthinkable amount of hurt and pain.
and alessia wasn't sure this was something she could ever forgive herself for.
"alessia." you pushed her off you suddenly, your lips separating with a gentle smack. you stepped away when she tried to reach out for you again, face flushed bright red and lips slightly swollen.
"we can't. that was a huge mistake." you forced out, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to quieten your mind enough to remember where you were, why this was wrong and for once embrace the pain it was making you feel.
"but-" "no lessi." her heart stopped at the nickname, something she'd not heard in years and her knees almost buckled and hit the floor at the implosion of emotions that came with it.
you however regretted it the moment the slip up left your tongue, quick to correct yourself as not to give her any false hope.
"alessia. that was a mistake, i really can't do this. you need to leave now, please!" you turned away from her, back hunched over as your hands gripped the back of the sofa so hard your knuckles turned white.
"you kissed me." alessia reminded, fists balled by her sides as you felt her gaze burn the back of your neck. "i know. which is exactly why you need to leave, i can't do this with you again." you whispered back, holding back the tears which threatened to spill over as that every familiar ache in your chest started again, something you'd not felt in years.
"but why? i know i royally fucked everything up. i hurt you, i left you and i broke you, and there isn't a day that i don't regret that more than anything." alessia started and you tensed as you felt her stand closer, hand gently ghosting your back before thinking better of it as her touch disapeared.
"i'm not that same young selfish reckless teenager anymore. maybe you were right and we don't know each other in some ways, so just let me show you that i've changed. please! i've just gotten you back i can't lose you again." alessia all but begged as the room began to spin and your eyes slammed shut, a thick silence falling between the two of you momentarily, and then something in you clicked.
"you haven't gotten me back though alessia." you spun around so quickly it caught the blonde striker off guard as she stumbled over her feet trying to step back.
"you will never understand just how you made me feel. you made me feel about two centimeters tall, like i wasn't worth anything, wasn't worth telling of your grand new journey, after years of loving you and being in love with you that i wasn't even worth a goodbye!" you spat, hurt replaced by anger as years of bottled emotions suddenly exploded.
alessia remained silent, knowing she deserved to take all of this and more as her feet stayed rooted in place and you advanced on her.
"and now you want to tell me about change? regret? your hurt? losing me? getting me back?" you laughed now, though your tone was anything but humorous as you shoved at her chest, the taller girl barely moving as you did.
"fuck you! you will never know just how much it hurt alessia. because you didn't think about me, you didn't care about me and you left me!" you yelled, shoving her again as her eyes welled with tears but she refused to break your eyeline.
"and because you left me you weren't there when i needed you. you weren't there for my first day of university, you weren't there for my graduation, you weren't there when my fucking dad died, when he left me too!" you were screaming now, your voice hoarse and cracked but now the dam had spilled over there was no way of stopping it from overflowing.
"and i hate that you were the only person i wanted to tell, the only person i wanted to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. it had been nearly two years and i still wasn't over you, i still wanted you to be there even as my best friend if nothing more, but you weren't!" your voice broke, tears gushing down your face as alessia bit down on her bottom lip which trembled, tears spilling over in her ocean blue eyes.
"my siblings had partners to turn to, they had their own support systems. i had my friends but they weren't you, no one has ever been you and i hate you for that. because you aren't my person, if you were you'd have never done what you did." you poked her sharply, sniffling and wiping your nose with your sleeve, hand trembling as you did so.
"when he died my mum pushed everyone away. i needed her to tell me it was going to be okay, i needed her tell me we were going to be okay without him and she didn't, she couldn't. so i had to be the parent and i picked up the pieces, i organised the funeral, i watched her crumble and break and become a shell of the woman she once was. and i did it alone, at twenty!" you yelled, fists raising to hit the girl as she grabbed your hands, holding them tightly in her own.
and at that you crumbled, dropped to the ground and curled into a ball, the grief of not one but two losses now hitting you in waves, barely able to keep your head above water as you drowned in your own emotions.
without a second thought alessia was sat by your side, pulling you in between her legs as she wrapped herself tightly around you, her front pressed to your back as you fought her, elbowing and yelling and swearing for her to get off but she refused.
and when you were unable to fight her anymore, you gave in. your sobs echoed around the apartment as the blonde buried her face in your hair, her lips whispering apologies over and over as your entire body wracked and convulsed with grief, finally allowing yourself to actually feel everything for the first time in a long time.
you weren't sure how long you sat there for, but with time you ran out of tears to cry and your head started to come back down to ground level, your breaths shallow but starting to even out as your eyes throbbed, red and puffy.
it was then you remembered who it was that was currently holding you, who it was that was whispering over and over how sorry she was, how strong you were. so you pushed her off, the blonde now allowing you to as she shuffled back a little, wanting to give you space.
"sorry." was all you managed to get out, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep shaky breath, your chin resting on your knees which were tucked to your chest. alessia watched you carefully, fingers twitching to reach out and comfort you again.
"it's not your fault he died, and its not your fault that i needed to step up and be there for my mum. but i did need you alessia, even as my best friend who i'd known since we were little. my best friend who adored my dad and knew what a loss it was that he wasn't there anymore. and because of what happened between us, you weren't there." you forced out, avoiding her gaze as you sighed, your head starting to pound and a dull ache settling behind your eyes.
"i wanted to be." alessia finally spoke up, head lifting and eyes roaming your deflated form. "my mum called to tell me when she found out, and the first thing i did was try to call you. but you changed your number and i took that as a sign you didn't want me having your new one." alessia admitted, your gaze remaining trained to the floor.
"i wanted to fly home for the funeral, to be there for you. but it had been two years and i didn't want to make it worse, i didn't even know what i would have said. my mum told me it was only going to be a small ceremony and only she and my dad were going, but i made her promise me that she would look after you in my absence." alessia continued, playing with her fingers as her hands sat dormant in her lap.
"she tried to check in. but my mum, she was my priority that day, i didn't focus on anyone else, couldn't do anything else. i gave my speech and hers, and i went home and cooked her dinner, which she refused to eat. my brother took over so i went to my room,and i didn't leave it for three days." you confessed, refusing to look at her knowing exactly the pity which would shine in her eyes.
"it was a really shit year. the university gave me extensions on everything and i took a leave of compassion for a few months, my friends did their best to help me. but i spent every day with mum trying anything to bring her back. i grieved silently and by myself, everyone else had their own emotions to be responsible for i didn't need to burden them with mine." your voice was barely above a whisper now, fiddling with your necklace as you spoke.
"your mum tried to help, all of mums friends did but she pushed them away too, isolated herself away from the world, away from us. but then i remember one morning i woke up to the smell of something burning and thought she was trying to set the house alight-" a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
"-thought she might have been burning dads stuff, she slept in the spare room and we weren't allowed in her room, didn't touch his things for months. but i raced down and she's there in the kitchen, trying to make eggs but she forgot about them and they burnt to the pan." you let out a small chuckle now, sighing quietly.
"but it was the first morning she'd gotten out of bed by herself. and when she saw me she hugged me, told me good morning like there wasn't a small fire in the corner. but it was the first time she seemed even a little bit alive again, she'd even gone out the front and grabbed the paper." you wiped away a stray tear with the corner of your sleeve.
"then slowly things started to shift, she went to get groceries, started to at least sleep in her room again. it took time but she reached out again for help, started to sift through his things, yelled at me for staying home instead of going to class. i started to do night classes to try and catch up, i wanted to graduate with my friends and i knew that he'd not want me to stop because of him not being there to tell me to keep going." you paused, the image of him briefly flickering through your mind as you gently touched your hip where his name was hidden, tattooed only for your eyes to see.
"i was at your graduation." your head snapped up at that, a frown forming as your eyebrows creased and alessia's face paled, unsure if she should have confessed. "what?" you managed to force out.
"i'd come home by then. i still spoke to a few of the girls from secondary school, not as much but we caught up once i moved back home. i asked one day if they wanted to get lunch and they said they were going to your graduation-" the back of alessias neck prickled as she spoke.
"-i hadn't spoke with anyone about you for a long time. they didn't invite me with them, i hadn't ever spoke to them about it but i assumed you'd told them we weren't...well friends." alessia winced, unsure how to really word things in the right way.
"but i looked it up, saw it was an open invite. so i went and i sat right up the back, i saw your family all there but i didn't dare to say hi. i didn't want to ruin your day but i wanted to be there, and i was so proud watching you walk across that stage and get your degree." your eyes met for a fleeting moment as a soft smile graced the older girls face.
you really wished she hadn't told you that, feeling yet another twist of the knife in your back as a weirdly familiar feeling settled in your stomach at her confession, but it wasn't a feeling you were going to give the luxury of developing any further, you couldn't.
"whatever trust i had in you is dead alessia, i'm really sorry i kissed you but i can't do this again. i can't sit here and be hugged and comforted by you, i can't kiss you like nothing happened and reminisce on old memories, i can't risk giving you a chance to hurt me again, to leave me again." you admitted quietly, looking away from her as the striker remained silent, thinking over her words carefully before she responded.
"i'd like you to leave now please alessia, please." you whispered, head hung low, shoulders sagging as you heard her start to move beside you. your eyes widened as you felt her hand gently touch your cheek, the blonde squatted down beside you.
"alessia-" you started softly, moving away her hand. "i'll leave, but i'm not leaving again. i live here now, ten minutes down the road." alessia started, standing up as you remained seated on the floor.
"i have caused you an inexcusable amount of pain and hurt and i know that, thats mine to bare forever and you're right i will never understand how you felt, and how you feel." she continued, hovering a few feet away as you looked into the kitchen.
"but i'm not going anywhere. please take some time, as much as you need, i promise i won't reach out or ambush you or anything. take some time and think, because i'd really like the opportunity to be in your life again. i don't deserve it and i'm selfish for even asking-" she swallowed the lump in her throat, hand lingering on the handle of your front door.
"-but ultimately if you don't want anything to do with me, i'll respect that and i will leave you be. but i live here now, my life is here now and so is yours and if you give me the chance to be in it i promise you that i will spend every single day making it up to you and showing you just how much you mean to me." alessia's voice softened, and she turned the handle as you spared her a glance, a small nod all she needed as she sent you a sad smile.
and with that, she was gone.
~
sure to her word alessia left you be. a week passed without anything further, your mum even laying off about everything as your sister announced she was pregnant. you were happy for her of course always wanting to be an aunty, but overall you were grateful she had given your mum something else to focus on than pestering you about the fake date you 'went' on.
you tried to keep busy. that first week you threw yourself head first into work, staying back later and starting earlier, going out for dinner and drinks with your colleagues again, feeling incredibly welcomed into the much smaller community of teachers than you had in australia.
you'd made friends with some of your colleagues there but you'd also made the mistake of trying to date one of them. you'd gone out a few times and everything seemed okay, nothing was labelled but you were enjoying your time together and getting to know one another.
but then after a particularly rambunctious staff christmas party and one or five too many tequila shots you drunkenly decided to sleep with a different colleague and well, it didn't end well for you.
you swiftly learned why dating your co-workers was now a no go, painstakingly awkward staff meetings and social events where you knew others were whispering about you tainted your experience of what was supposed to be your dream job and in a beautiful new country.
determined to prove them wrong you'd tried to suck up to the principal and the head of department, accepting extra shifts, after school bus duties, playground duties, each offer adding more and more onto your growing workload.
with this being your first real job out of university besides your placements, and younger than most of your colleagues you were naieve to think you could handle it all amongst being so far away from home.
you burnt yourself out, fast. so when the bell rang to end your final school term of your second year teaching abroad, you'd already handed in your resignation and ended your lease early, booking a one way ticket home.
your mum of course had been warning you from the get go about looking after yourself, and you'd brushed her off time and time again that you were fine, that you could handle it, that you were loving it.
and yet the reality was far from that.
when you'd finally come clean, unable to keep your head above water anymore feeling as though you were failing yourself and your students. you'd called your mum and come clean, and she hadn't tried to talk you out of staying or coming home, knowing you were an adult and this needed to be your decision.
so when you'd made that decision she was as supportive as you needed her to be, going to open houses and inspections, face timing you and sending videos, sending in your applications until finally one was accepted.
your mum had of course assured you were more than welcome to move back in with her but for the sake of your own independence having become quite accustomed to living by yourself, you'd as gently as you could shut that down quite quickly.
but back to present day and that second week without any contact from alessia, she lived rent free in your head.
you once again tried to busy yourself, desperate to keep the tall blonde striker out of sight and out of mind only the more you tried to push any thought of her away the more she popped up.
true to her word alessia had steered clear, not showing up to help out leah that second friday much to both your relief and maybe disappointment? you weren't sure why your face fell a little seeing a different one of leahs team mates stepping in, your head was an absolute mess.
so that night you finally let your thoughts wander rogue.
curled up on your lounge with a mug of tea, your walls slipping for a moment as you indulged yourself in remembering the good times the two of you had. you recalled certain things with a smile on your face, hours passing as you lay there thinking it over and over.
you jumped as your phone began to vibrate by your head and your stomach lurched seeing her name on the screen. realizing the time, worry seeped into you that she might be drunk again, calling you as an afterthought.
so you let the call screen out, releasing a breath you didn't realise you were holding in when she didn't call again. but moments later, your phone pinged with a message.
iMessage from alessia russo - 10:04pm. hi. i'm so incredibly sorry to call you so late i probably should have just sent a message, and i am absolutely still giving you space. i'm not sure if you've spoken to your mum but mine called me earlier about another family dinner at your mums house this time? next week i think. my mum really misses you and i think she'd love to see you if that was something you were open to? i can very easily make other plans to not be there so you aren't uncomfortable.
iMessage from alessia russo - 10:05pm. you of course don't have to go, and you don't have to reply to this either. i'm not trying to push you into anything either, but you do know what my mums like and she really does want to see you
iMessage from alessia russo - 10:05pm. you always were her favourite daughter
iMessage from alessia russo - 10:06pm. sorry that was probably a bit forward, and weird.
iMessage from alessia russo - 10:07pm. it's alessia by the way
you felt a smile tug at your lips as your eyes scanned the incoming messages, imagining the way her cheeks would have flushed in embarrassment the more she rambled on had the messages been in person.
alessia on the other hand was wincing as she sent you yet another message despite her promise she would leave you be.
she watched as the text bubbles appeared, and left, and appeared again, and then left. "you alright less?" lotte chuckled, sat on the ground trying to build a new bookshelf, having come over to spend the evening with her long time friend, considering her more a sister.
“why am i such an idiot.” alessia sighed, flopping backwards into the sofa and covering her face with her hands. “is this about her again?” lotte asked gently, aware that this was quite the sensitive topic with the striker especially as of late.
before she could reply alessia felt her phone vibrate on her stomach, turning it face up to look her eyes widened and she quickly threw it to the other side of the lounge as if it was red hot and had burnt her.
“okay what was that about?” lotte asked with a concerned gaze. “she’s calling me!” alessia panicked, lotte rolling her eyes. “…so answer it.”
with a hasty nod alessia practically dove onto her phone, clicking accept right on the last ring and scrambling to her feet, hurrying off to her bedroom for a touch more privacy.
“hello?” she answered, composing herself for a moment.
“hi.”
“hello.”
“you already said that.”
“hi?”
“i already said that.” alessia settled somewhat hearing the lighter tone of voice which you were using today.
“so i got your messages.” you trailed off, pausing for a moment to think what you wanted to say, regret washing over you that you hadn’t just messaged her back.
“sorry there’s so many. i promise i really did mean to-“
“-give me space. and you have, I know that alessia it’s okay, I’m not upset with you for messaging.” you assured her calmly, the blonde nodding at your words which of course you weren’t able to see.
“so, the dinner then.” alessia spoke, certain that’s what you’d been returning her call to talk about, the striker already having confirmed with lotte that the two of them would easily be able to spend the evening together instead so you’d be able to go to the dinner and see her family without seeing her.
though to alessia that felt about as easy as swallowing a watermelon whole.
“yeah look i really appreciate you messaging to clarify things. my mum hasn’t mentioned any dinner but i’m seeing her tomorrow so I’ve no doubt it’ll come up then.” you started, picking nervously at your nail beds as you readied yourself for your next words.
“-I was calling to ask if you wanted to grab a coffee or something this week. i’ve had my time to think and i actually do have some things i’d like to talk with you about, but in person.” you asked, chewing the inside of your cheek somewhat nervously as you awaited her answer.
“oh! um yeah, yeah that sounds good. i’d like that.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
part seven
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halsteadlover · 6 months
Text
𝐌𝐫. & 𝐌𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝
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*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: you and Jay finally got married but even on your weeding day you can’t seem to be able to keep your hands off each other so you sneak out during the party to have a quick rendezvous.
• Warnings: smut (18+), dirty talking, lots of cursing, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex (don’t be like them fellas!!!), semi-public sex, so much fluff you’ll drown in it.
• Word count: 7800.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ minors stay away. I’m actually shit at writing summaries y’all can tell. I’m so excited for this fic so y’all better eat this up 😭 I really hope you’ll like it, please let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Stay safe and love you all xx
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“And I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
It was surreal.
You and Jay were finally husband and wife and you couldn't believe it.
“I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he had whispered on your lips when you exchanged your first kiss as husband and wife, your heart bursting with joy and happiness.
On the way to the wedding venue Jay did nothing but kiss and caress your ring finger, still in disbelief you really decided to marry him. You were his, forever.
You couldn’t stop grinning.
Everything seemed more beautiful. The colors were brighter, the air cleaner, the sky bluer, the trees greener.
Everyone present including colleagues, friends, family could see how happy you both were, how much you doted on each other, how much you were in love. There wasn’t anyone who hadn't thought at least once how much they would’ve liked to experience a love like yours. So pure, genuine, crazy, overwhelming.
Jay didn't take his eyes or hands off of you for even a second.
He kept looking at you and the more he saw you smiling, laughing, so happy and carefree, the more he couldn't contain his disbelief. God, he would’ve given you the fucking moon if it meant always seeing that smile on your face. You were so unbelievably beautiful especially in that white dress, which hugged your body so perfectly it seemed to be sewn on you.
My wife.
My wife.
My wife.
He kept repeating in his mind.
How the hell did he get so lucky?
His hand circled your hips with a firm, possessive grip, while his thumb caressed the fabric of the dress that covered your skin. He couldn’t help but stealing kisses from you from time to time, between a ‘congratulations’ and another, whispering how much he loved you and how fabulous you looked in your wedding dress.
“Did I already tell you how stunning you are, my love?” Jay asked as his eyes ran up and down your body, holding you to him with so much passion and desire you felt like you were dying in his arms.
You both had inaugurated the dance floor by doing the first dance and while those present watched the scene with emotion, some of your relatives took videos with their cell phones, unaware of the things that Jay was whispering to you and just seeing with how much adoration you looked at each other.
You smiled as you talked, slowly swaying to the song’s rhythm, unaware of how much your eyes sparkled as you looked at him. He looked at you with just as much admiration, his cheeks aching from how much he was smiling, his heart exploding with joy. Even someone blind could tell how much that man loved and adored you, how much he venerated you, how much he worshiped the land you walked on.
“You're not half bad either Mr Halstead,” you replied with a cheeky smile, unable to take your eyes off him and how wonderfully the suit he was wearing looked on him “God, I just want to rip your clothes off right now,” you continued, not realizing you had actually said it out loud.
Jay's arms tightened around your hips, pulling you further into his body and trying to hide how that one sentence made him feel. “Baby don't talk to me like that… I'm already trying so hard not to drag you away right now. You really want to make me lose my mind?” He warned you in a low tone, his lips brushing your ear before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. He then sighed with frustration making you chuckle. “I don't think I can last the whole day.”
The song came to an end before you could respond and before you knew it everybody was drunkly dancing around you.
Your feet were sore as you and Jay danced with friends and relatives and you would’ve paid gold to take off those damned torture machines.
Seriously, why did heels have to hurt so much?
You were hot, sweaty but happy, like you had never been before. Jay wasn't much for dancing so he eventually went to talk to some other guests but he was having the time of his life and couldn’t take his eyes off you as he watched you dance, the way your body moved to the music, the way your curves were hugged by your wedding dress, the the way you sprayed happiness from every pore.
The love he felt for you was so unconditional, powerful and intense in such a way it took the air out of his lungs, it made the blood boil in his veins, it consumed him deeply, burned him from inside.
He had never once in his life felt anything like this, not until he met you. It felt like constantly being punched in the stomach every time you looked or smiled at him, it felt like his heart skipped a beat every time he heard your laugh, making it dance to that melody he couldn't wait to hear for the rest of his life. That kind of love was so profound that even when you were sad or cried, he felt like a piece of him was being ripped out of his body, especially when he couldn’t do anything to make you feel better.
He lived for you, breathed for you only, to a point he couldn’t even function when you weren’t by his side.
“Okay, okay, enough, I'd like to dance with my wife now,” Jay's voice made you turn and you almost tripped over your own feet when your eyes landed on him.
He was standing behind you, looking at you with a gorgeous and mischievous smile on his lips, his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit. He exuded confidence from every pore of his body and you couldn’t even explain how you managed to get that man. He was so charming, so dreamy and insanely hot, he completely took your breath away.
My husband.
Wow. How the hell did I get so lucky?
You smiled at him and the friend you were dancing with raised her hands in surrender. “She’s all yours Halstead but treat her right or I’ll kill you.”
His eyes traveled down your body, running his tongue over his bottom lip after biting it as his gaze devoured you with so much intensity and desire that every cell in your body lit up on fire. “She’s in excellent hands Clara, don't worry.”
“Ugh you’re disgusting. Stop eye-fucking my friend in front of me.”
You laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, now looking at Clara. “Can you blame me? C’mon look at her.”
“I’m still here and I can here you, you know,” you intervened, giggling as your arm encircled his hips too.
“I'm watching you Halstead, just remember that,” she warned him with an amused look and pointing her finger at him before walking away and going to grab another drink.
Jay then let you go and turned your body to his, holding out a hand towards you, finally meeting your gaze again. “Would you give me the honor of this dance, Mrs Halstead?”.
The way that name slipped from his lips made you melt like a snowman under the heat of the sun's rays, God how much you loved the way it sounded.
Mrs Halstead. Fuck me.
“The honor is all mine Mr. Halstead,” You grabbed his hand and before you knew it you were already pressed against his chest while his arms wrapped again around your hips possessively, almost as if he was afraid to let you go.
“My gorgeous wife” he whispered while swaying to the rhythm of the music. A rush of shivers ran down your spine forming goosebumps all over your skin. “Do you have any idea how much you drive me crazy? I’m so obsessed with you baby.”
His lips left small, sweet kisses on your lips, making you have a hard time to respond. You giggled as his beard tickled you meanwhile he planted chaste kisses along your cheek and neck. He inhaled your scent deeply, a scent he’d never could live without.
“And I’m so obsessed with you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands slid down the small of your back, resting chastely on your ass. “You make me so insanely happy Mr Halstead.”
Anyone who saw you two would say you were just a beautiful couple dancing happily on the best day of their lives.
But the things Jay was whispering in your ear were far from innocent, they would’ve made even a porn star blush.
“God I can't wait to take this dress off you,” he had said as your bodies moved in time to the music. He had turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. There was a lively song playing at the moment, the bass so loud you could hear it across the room and you couldn't deny you were grinding against him more sensually than you would other times on purpose.
You couldn't control yourself, not when it came to him.
Jay had the ability to make you give in with just two simple words whispered in your ear. Normally you couldn't keep your hands to yourself for a long time, your sexual chemistry had always been high and this moment was no different. You wanted him so badly you almost forgot you were on the dance floor celebrating your wedding.
You almost moaned when you felt his erection pressed against your ass, hard and sore, repressing the instinct to get on your knees and pull down his pants in front of everyone.
“Baby,” he murmured against your ear, leaving wet kisses on your neck. “God the things I would do to you now…”
Your stomach tightened in a vice as the heat in your lower abdomen continued to expand. “Tell me darling. What would you do to me now?” You replied in a question, pressing your ass further against his dick.
God I hope no one notices.
Jay let out a sigh that went straight to your pussy, making your legs clench in desire. “Fuck please stop, I can't take this anymore,” his arms tightened around your hips even more, as if trying to let out the frustration. He felt like he was exploding and the more you kept grinding against him, so sensually to the music’s rhythm, the more he wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you in front of all the guests.
You turned towards him again, placing your hands on his chest and caressing him slowly and sensually while batting your eyelashes seductively as you looked at him.
Jay thought he’d come in his pants just from the way you were looking at him.
His eyes were now hungrily fixed on your lips, which he wanted so desperately wrapped around his hard dick.
“So?” You urged with a smirk on your lipstick-covered lips. “What would you do to me baby?”.
Jay placed his hands on your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You really want to know what I would do to my wife right now?”.
You were so desperate you nodded as if you were possessed, God, you would’ve done anything that man asked you. That man that was now your husband.
It's so surreal.
He licked his lips as his eyes moved up and down your body for a moment, quickly but at the same time imprinting every detail of how that dress looked on you in his memory, before returning his eyes to your face and tracing with them the outline of your lips.
“It would be better if I showed her, don't you think?” he whispered against your lips, making you forget again you were in public and not just the two of you.
“Wouldn't it be better if I just showed her the way I would take off her dress and get on my knees for her? Wouldn't it be better if I showed her how much I want and desire her by licking her pussy and every bit and drop of her wetness until her legs tremble? By fucking her so hard until we both forget our names? By being buried so deep inside that sweet little cunt of hers that she’s gonna feel me for days?”.
He pressed his lips on yours in a chaste and sweet kiss, in stark contrast with the things he was saying to you. “And show her how hard I am inside my pants just by looking at her in this dress? Show her how happy I am that she’s my wife? That I get to keep her forever?”.
That's it.
You slightly pulled away from him and grabbed his hand before leading him away from the dance floor and out of the wedding reception, not caring if someone actually saw you two leave. Your free hand held the edge of your dress as the two of you walked down the hall. He followed you like a puppy, a stupid, inebriated smile on his lips, his body quivering with anticipation and frenzy.
You arrived in front of a door that marked ‘storage room’ on its nameplate and looked around noticing that no one was there. You opened the door and pulled Jay inside with you and before you could even fully turn towards him, his hands were already on your face and his lips had captured yours in a kiss that took the breath out of your lungs.
He closed the door with his feet as he devoured you in a passionate and devastating kiss. Never letting you go, he removed one hand from your face before locking the door, returning his full attention to you immediately after.
He didn't know why but that was one of the most beautiful and breathtaking kiss you had ever exchanged, so overwhelming it made his knees weak and his stomach twist.
It may have been the fact that was the first real and passionate kiss as a married couple, maybe it was because he could finally call you his wife, because he could do this for the rest of his life, but all of this drove him like crazy.
“God I want you so much baby,” you breathed out in a little moment of separation. He didn't give you room to do or say anything else because he started kissing you again so intensely that a hit train would’ve been less crushing.
You slightly parted your lips and his tongue slid in your mouth without hesitation as they moved in sync against each other. Your dragged your hands along his chest, touching every bit of his body you could reach, almost shaking from the frenzy and desire of wanting to touch his heated skin.
A deep moan vibrated in his throat when you sucked on his tongue, making him lose that shred of sanity he had left. He pushed you against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss you passionately and greedily.
“You'll be the death of me,” he murmured against your lips as he planted kisses up your jaw and down to your neck. His tongue wet your skin as he nibbled it, his lips sucking at the same time making you gasp and writhe in pleasure. “I want to fucking rip this dress off you.”
You giggled – since the feeling was pretty much reciprocated – eyes still half closed as you enjoyed the sensation his lips gave you. “Don't you dare, it was expensive as fuck.”
He suddenly pulled away from you and a cold feeling took over you at that distance. His eyes traveled down your body and how your wedding dress hugged every single curve perfectly, fuck, it felt like it had been sculpted on you, like it was made just for you to wear.
He just wanted to take a good look at you, imprint in his memory every single detail of you in your white wedding dress.
But the way he looked at you, God. He was like a predator about to haunt his prey, glaring at it with desire, ready to capture it and devour its flesh with voracity and hunger. You felt so beautiful, like you could rule the world, like you were unstoppable, and you could only thank your husband for that.
“Fuck baby…” His chest rising and falling heavily due to that ardent kiss. He bit his bottom lip so hard he thought it’d start bleeding. He shook his head slightly as he continued to look at you lustfully, as if he could hardly believe you really existed, that you were actually his. “My beautiful, perfect wife…” He sighed. “I could just come from looking at you damn it.”
You pulled him back to you by the collar of his jacket and had to use all the strength you had in your body not to tear it off him along with that shirt. You kissed him again as your hands roamed down his body. You just couldn't take it anymore, you felt you’d explode soon or later if you didn't have him immediately.
You slipped his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and hastily unbuttoned his shirt, eager to finally touch him, feel his skin against yours.
He did the same, unzipping your dress and you pulled away as he helped you step out of it. You didn't care if it got dirty or even ripped, you were just eager to finally have him, to feel him, your mind too foggy to think about anything other than Jay. But he took your dress instead of dropping it on the floor and placed it on an empty chair there.
This gesture made you smile with happiness and with every passing second you couldn't help but think about how you couldn't have chosen a better man to be your husband.
It was only then that Jay realized what you were wearing underneath your wedding dress, that vision alone almost making him fall unconscious on the floor. You were wearing one of the sexiest and most breathtaking white lingerie he had ever seen you wear and this made him regret not dragging you out that dance floor sooner.
My fucking wife.
“Baby… Jesus Christ…” he sighed heavily as he looked at you with so much lust and hunger, his mouth and his eyes wide open. “You… Wow… You’re so fucking beautiful… Holy shit…”
“I guess you like it then,” you giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed his hands, pulling him back to you. He wasted no time touching you, caressing your curves and sliding his hand down your back until he grabbed your ass. He squeezed and massaged it with so much passion you were sure he’d leave some marks.
“Is this what you were hiding from me under that dress? Fuck if I had known I would’ve fucked you on that damn dance floor in front of everyone.” He started to grind his pelvis with yours and making you moan when his hard dick pressed against your intimacy.
“Jay please…” you sighed as he continued to grind against you, making you lose your mind. God you wanted him so much you it hurt.
His lips kept brushing his lips against yours, pulling back when you tried to kiss him and chuckling at your frustration.
“My sweet beautiful wife,” he murmured and placed his lips on your neck, on that particular spot that he knew made you lose your mind. A small moan left your mouth as he began to lick and suck at your skin again and you tilted your head, giving him more access. “I can't wait to be inside you.”
You grabbed his face and pressed your mouth on his, kissing him voraciously and passionately. It was like you were burning inside, as if your soul was trying to escape from inside your body and merge with his.
You had reached the point where you couldn't hold on for a second longer, you wanted your husband, you wanted him to take you there against those cold walls while all the guests danced in the wedding reception unaware of what you were doing.
You frantically unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers and freeing his hard erection, after sliding his shirt down his arms and leaving him naked in all his glory. You wrapped your hand around his erected dick and he let out a throaty moan, so fucking sexy you found yourself squeezing your legs together for some relief.
“Fuck yes…” he groaned as he struggled to continue kissing you while your hand pumped up and down on his dick. “I want to fuck this pretty mouth so bad,” he placed a hand on your cheek as his thumb caressed your lips. You took it into your mouth, licking and sucking it while your eyes were fixed on his.
He stopped when another loud moan left his mouth and he tilted his head back, his mind too clouded with pleasure. “Shh… You don’t want anyone to hear us don’t you love?” You smirked as you let go of his thumb.
“I don't give a fuck, I just need you,” he whimpered in an increasingly desperate tone.
“Yeah? How bad do you need me baby? Tell me,” you whispered sensually, biting his bottom lip as you slowed the pace of your hand and earning a frustrated verse from him.
“Fuck… Stop playing with me,” he warned you while at the same time his hips buckled up to meet your hand’s motion. You drew imaginary circles on his tip with your thumb, wet from the stain of precum. “Fucking tease,” he hissed before kissing you again. It was a sloppy and messy kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, your saliva mixing with each other.
“Now get on your knees.”
Your pussy clenched at the sound of those words and you were never so happy to obey. You were about to kneel down but before you could, he picked up his jacket from the ground and placed it in front of you, making you smile like an idiot.
If there was one thing that Jay cared about more than anything it was knowing that you were comfortable, everything else came second and this was one of the many things you loved about him: how thoughtful and caring he was, even at certain times you always came first.
“I love you so much, you know that?” You kissed him sweetly, making him smile.
“It’ll be better for you since I put a ring on that finger.” He chuckled. “And I love you so much more.”
Your heart exploded in your chest and you kissed him one last time before kneeling down, your eyes still in his as he watched with attention every little movement you made.
You jerked him off again before moving your face closer to his dick, sticking your tongue out and he almost fainted… Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of that moment so badly, he would’ve printed it out and hung it all over your home because that vision alone was pure heaven.
Maybe it wasn't a proper thing to do to compare the image of you with his dick in your hand and your tongue sticking out to heaven, but he was too distracted to think about it.
A deep, guttural moan escaped his mouth as you traced a long wet line with your tongue from the base of his dick to the tip, which went straight to his pussy, forcing you to squeeze your legs together again.
“Ah holy shit…” he sighed, breaking off with another moan when you drew circles on his tip with your tongue just as you had done with your thumb not long before, tasting the saltiness of the leaking precum. “Fuck baby please stop torturing me…”
You smirked before wrapping your lips around his veiny dick and taking it fully into your mouth, starting a steady rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered in pleasure as the heat of your mouth enveloped him. His eyes were half closed, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to maintain control and not make any noises. But it was so fucking hard, especially when your eyes were looking at him with so much sensuality they took the air out of his chest, not when your mouth was making him more ecstatic than any drug that existed.
“Yeah baby just like that… Oh yes… My sweet girl…”
He threw his head back, giving you a perfect view of his neck, his prominent jawline and veins and that alone was one of the hottest, sexiest things you had ever seen in your entire life.
His moans filled that little storage room and you hoped for a second no one was passing by or they would’ve surely heard him, but this thought immediately vanished, too caught up to his pleasure to care about the rest of the world.
Jay began to move his hips, fucking your mouth and hitting the back of your throat with the tip of his dick. “Shit, shit…” he loudly moaned “God you’re so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth.”
And it was true.
You were so breathtakingly beautiful. Especially with your watery eyes, the mascara running down your cheeks, your lips swollen and pink as they continued to grind on his shaft, back and forth, again and again.
You tried not to gag while he continued to fuck your throat with particular voracity but it was almost impossible, just as it was becoming difficult to breathe as his dick kept completely filling your mouth.
“Y-yes baby… Oh fuck… That mouth of yours will be the death of me.”
Even though you were the one on your knees, you felt so powerful. Damn it, how much you loved knowing you were the only one who could make him feel this way, that you were the only one whose mouth he could fuck so mercilessly it almost made you choke on his dick, knowing that his moans, his sighs and whimpers were only and solely for you, knowing that it was only you who was making him lose his mind so badly.
He placed a hand on your head, threading his fingers into your styled hair, tugging and making you moan onto his dick. God you loved it when he did that, and he knew it.
Sensing you were having trouble breathing, Jay pulled his dick out of your mouth, taking it into his hand. “Stick out your tongue.”
You did as he said, feeling every cell in your body go up in flames.
“Such a good girl. My baby is so good for me."
He smirked as he began to slam his dick against your tongue which left a long stream of saliva on it, his other hand still in your hair as he continued to maneuver your head to his liking.
“You like that huh? You like being my pretty little slut?”.
“Fuck yes baby, please use me.”
He put his dick in your mouth again, letting out some of the most borderline pornographic moans you’ve ever heard along with strings of obscenities and profanities.
“My wife is so dirty… Oh god yeah… She likes being dirty for me?” He groaned and you managed to nod while looking at me through your lashes. It didn't take long for him to feel the orgasm starting to build inside him and he had to stop, not being able to hold on any longer.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck stop baby, you're gonna make me come,” he panted as if he'd run a marathon, stepping back and letting his dick pop out of your mouth. “I… Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
Before you could say or do anything, he helped you get on your feet and pressed his lips to yours still swollen, wet and pink from the killer blowjob you had just given him. He pressed your back against the cold wall but you didn't care, you were too hot to notice.
A moan escaped your lips this time when he moved your lace panties to the side with his fingers and slid them over your pussy.
“Fuck… Baby, ah yeah…”
“So fucking wet god… You drive me insane, I can't wait to be inside this pussy,” he kissed your neck as his fingers drew imaginary circles on your clit giving you the pleasure you so much needed.
Your hips began to slowly rotate following the same movement he was doing, your mind clouded with pleasure as you felt yourself already on the verge of an orgasm. God you were so horny, you didn't think you'd ever been this eager to fuck him.
“Look at that, fuck me, you're soaking my hands baby…”
“Bab-… Fuck yes… Please…” you babbled senselessly, struggling to keep at bay the moans and sighs that had taken the place of Jay's and were filling the storage room at that moment. “I… I can't…”
You wrapped an arm around his neck while grabbing his bicep with the other hand, trying to find some support because you felt like you’d collapse on the floor at any moment.
Your lips nibbled and sucked the skin of his neck making him sigh in your ear, on one hand to keep your almost uncontainable moans and on the other because you wanted to mark him, because you loved seeing what you did to him, you loved knowing he has only yours.
“Ah yeah… Fuck…” you hissed, biting down on his skin when he penetrated you with two fingers.
“Yes baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much you like when your husband touches you like that.”
“J-Jay… Oh shit… I need you please…” you managed to stammer between moans. You felt like you were about to come but you needed to feel him, you needed his dick inside you.
Jay pulled his fingers out and you almost had a heart attack when he brought them to his lips. Without his eyes ever leaving yours, he licked away every trace of your fluids, humming with pleasure as he tasted you.
“You taste like heaven, I can't wait to lick every fucking drop and make you come on my face.”
“Jay I'm about to lose my goddamn mind. Please hurry up.”
He chuckled and brought his hands to your ass, pressing your half covered pussy by your panties still pulled aside against his dick, making both of you sigh with desire.
“What do you want baby? Tell me.”
You grabbed his face with your hands, pressing your mouth against his and sliding your tongue inside his when he slightly parted his lips. His hands continued to massage your now red ass, pressing his fingers hard as you kept grinding against each other.
“I want my husband to fuck me against this wall,” you whispered against his lips, pink and swollen from your impetuous kisses, your noses brushing.
My husband.
These simple words made him feel a sensation he couldn’t quite describe, an explosion of emotions that caused an electric shock to go through his entire body, which made his heart beat wildly and his legs feel like jelly.
It was pure melody.
It was so sweet and sexy at the same time, it made him was so happy he felt like he was touching the sky with a finger. He was your fucking husband and he couldn’t still fathom the idea he really managed to make you his wife.
Jay crashed his lips against yours again, sucking out that little trace of your soul you still had left in your body. He was eager to possess you, to feel you, to show you how much he loved and wanted you.
His hands lowered to your thighs and you took that as a sign to jump into his arms. With almost astonishing ease, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck.
Your back was pressed against the cold wall but it didn't bother you, you couldn't even feel it. With one hand he held your thigh, while the other stroked his dick a couple of times before aligning it towards your entrance, penetrating you with a single slow thrust and making both of you to let out a loud and deep moan.
“Jesus Christ, fuck…” he moaned, using every ounce of his will and strength not to come instantly. His other hand settled on your thigh again and his fingers pressed so hard they felt like they were going to tear your skin at any moment.
Jay had his face buried in the crook of your neck, his lips wide open as if trying to get some air, his breathing quickened.
“Shit baby you feel so good inside me,” you breathed out as his dick stretched out every corner of your vagina. He wasn't even moving and you were already falling apart. “Please move…”
Jay pulled out of you slightly just to penetrate you again, this time with more force. He started moving his hips slowly, in and out of you, making you crave for more. But it didn't take long for him to start fucking you like his life depended on it, his thrusts now stronger.
He was thrusting so deep you could feel him in every corner of your body and a piece of you disintegrating with each passing second. Your arms held him close to you, your fingers on his shoulders while your nails slid across his skin, leaving marks that would probably stay there for days.
“God baby I can't get enough of you, f-fuck…” he groaned in your ear as his lips left trails of wet kisses on your neck and his tongue licked your sweaty skin.
You tried to answer but the pleasure was so intense, so high you couldn’t get anything out of your mouth other than a moan or a whimper. It felt so fucking good you couldn't even describe it.
A particularly loud moan escaped your lips as he gave a particular deep thrust, making you almost jump out of your skin as he hit your G-spot. “Oh my fucking god… Just like that… Oh yeah baby…”
“That's it, moan for for me princess. You’re being so good.”
He raised his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. You opened your eyes and met his eyes shining with luxury and passion, his pupils so dilated you couldn’t see the green of his irises.
His dick twitched inside you as he continued to fuck you against the wall mercilessly, and seeing you so deeply in the throes of pleasure, your mouth slightly open, your cheeks flushed, your eyes half closed… He was going crazy.
You kept looking at each other’s eyes, extending the deep connection between you two to another level. It wasn’t just your bodies that were fucking, but your souls too and you would’ve payed gold to stop the time and live this moment over and over again, forever.
“I love you so much baby, God I love you.”
“Fuck.” He crashed his lips into yours in a messy and sloppy kiss due to the continuous gasps interrupting you. You rested your forehead on his, both covered in a thin layer of sweat.
“Mine.”
He kissed you as his dick soaked with your fluids continued to thrust in and out of your pussy.
“Mine.”
He kissed you again.
“Mine.”
He kissed you once again, sucking and biting your lower lip but stopped by another moan as your walls clenched around him making him struggle to even stand still.
“God… Oh yes baby keep going… Please…” you spluttered and closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm take over you.
“Don't close your eyes, please look at me… Ah Jesus… Fuck yeah keep clenching around me like that, you’re such a good girl for me baby.”
You did as he said as you placed your hands on his face looking into his eyes and feeling that sensation of pressure twisting and clenching your insides.
“I love you, fuck… S-so much…” you cried out again now, your mind completely gone. Your eyes started to water from the intensity of his thrusts and you felt like you were going to implode in that same instant. “I'm coming, I'm coming, I’m coming please don’t stop…”
A loud moan escaped your lips as an overwhelming orgasm hit you like a truck, almost giving you a heart attack. Your arms encircled his neck again, your nails scratching the skin of his shoulders.
You didn't know if you could die from an orgasm but damn that was exactly how you felt. It was like someone made you fall from a ten-story building without a parachute.
Jay exploded in an orgasm after a few more thrusts, filling your pussy with his cum until the last drop before pulling out. He exhaustedly rested his head on your shoulder leaving small, sweet kisses on your neck.
The silence that now reigned in the storage room was only broken by your panting while you both tried to catch your breath as if you had just run a marathon.
You felt so good in that moment, like your body was floating in space and you didn't know if it was the thrill of being discovered, if it was the wedding, but that was the best sex you had ever had.
“God I can't feel my body anymore,” you murmured and he chuckled as you stroked the hair on the back of his head, leaving kisses on his cheek in the meantime.
That little room smelled of him, you and sex and you had never smelled a more sublime fragrance.
“Can we stay here forever?”.
“I'm afraid we still have a party to attend,” he tiredly chuckled again. Jay raised his head to look at you, a stupid smile on his lips, his heart happy. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are angel?”.
You smiled and gave him a kiss on the lips, this time sweet and gentle in contrast to the ones exchanged so far. “And you're a flatterer Mr Halstead, I know I look awful right now, my makeup is all ruined.”
“You’ve never been more beautiful than you are now Mrs Halstead. You look like you've been fucked properly.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, already starting to imagine the jokes and teasing your friends would make as soon as they’d see you, not to mention the embarrassment in front of your relatives and family.
You decided you’d think about this at the right time.
After both of your regained a bit of strength again, Jay carefully put you down but wrapping an arm around your waist when your knees buckled and you nearly fell to the ground.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” you commented with mock annoyance when you noticed the smug, proud expression he was looking at you with and the way he was trying not to chuckle.
“I take full credit,” he laughed and before you could respond he silenced you with a kiss, making you forget what you even wanted to say.
After getting dressed, Jay helped you put your wedding dress back on, zipping it up your back and helping you fix your hair and what was left of your makeup as much as he could. He left a kiss on your right shoulder as his hands stroked up and down your arms. “I don't want to go back there.”
He kept planting kisses on your shoulder and up towards the crook of your neck and your jaw until he reached your cheek which he insisted on, making you smile stupidly. His arms wrapped around your hips from behind, pressing your body against him and holding you until you were almost breathless.
“Where did the ‘we have a party to attend’ go?” You teased him, meanwhile placing your hands on his and caressing them.
“I want you all to myself, I'm not ready to share you with other people again, plus now I want to fuck you again.”
You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Already?“.
“Already? Baby I would spend twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week buried deep inside you, don't act like you don't know me c'mon.” He kissed you again. “And above all seeing my cum dripping out of you and this damn lingerie drives me crazy, you can’t seriously expect me to resist you.”
You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands before pressing your lips against his as his arms encircled your hips again. A flock of butterflies exploded inside your stomach and he kissed you breathtakingly, making you lose the ground beneath your feet.
“I love you so much,” you whispered between kisses, forgetting again that the two of you had been locked in that storage room for God knew how long. “I'm so happy I married you.”
He smiled as you kissed him again, almost making you kiss his teeth. He’d never get tired of hearing it, no matter how much you had said it. “God baby I love you so much more.” He held you even tighter, as if he wanted to somehow get under your skin and steal your soul, which he had actually been doing for so long.
“My wife, my wife, my wife,” he continued to whisper, stealing several more kisses from you, kisses that he actually couldn't even manage to give you because of the way you couldn't stop smiling.
“You make my heart so happy.”
“Stop you're going to make me cry,” you hit him lightly on the shoulder covered by his jacket, feeling your eyes fill with tears.
God, could you love someone so much it hurt? Because that's how you felt.
You loved that man so much. So intensely you couldn't sleep when he wasn't there, so much you missed him even when he was just a few meters away from you, so deeply you couldn't imagine a life without him since the moment you met him.
You had always dreamed of an everlasting love, the kind that took your breath away just by thinking of it, that fairytale love, that love you had always read in novels and seen in films and Jay Halstead gave you all this and much more than you ever imagined or deserved.
He was peace.
He was home.
He was everything you had ever wanted and more.
Jay took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips and leaving a kiss on both of them, focusing in particular on your ring finger. His eyes shone like the ring’s stone at that moment and you looked at them mesmerized, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to do this all your life.
“We should go back there…” you murmured in a low voice, already sad for having to break that little bubble in which you took refuge even if not for a long time.
He snorted like a child but nodded. “I can't wait to have you all for myself.”
He intertwined his fingers with yours before unlocking the door and peeking out for a moment to see if anyone was nearby.
“Shit,” he muttered, immediately closing the door again when he saw a waiter walking down the hall holding an empty tray.
You let out a laugh when you saw his expression and he covered your mouth with his hand. “Shh, they'll hear us.”
“Baby we were fucking against the wall ten minutes ago, I'd say we're a little late for that don’t you think?” you whispered back, taking his hand away and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
He playfully rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah whatever. Now kiss me.”
Before you could say anything he pulled you towards him by your hips, pressing his lips on yours. His body was pressed against the door and yours against his, your arms around his neck and his around your waist as his hands slid on your ass while you made out like teenagers hiding from your own parents.
“I'll never get tired of kissing you, it'll never be enough,” he whispered against your lips, nibbling and sucking your lower lip, making you sigh.
“I know what you're doing, stop it. Until proven otherwise it's still our wedding and we have to celebrate it,” you admonished him, dropping your hands to his chest and slightly pushing yourself away from him. You got a sound of disappointment in response, just what a child would do.
“You know what’s a great way to celebrate? Having sex. C'mon baby, come here.” He tried to put his hands on your hips again but you took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest in mock disappointment.
“We have a whole life to have wild sex. You don’t want to celebrate your wedding with your wife?”.
“Drop the act baby, I’m not falling for it,” he boop your nose with his index finger, a gesture that immediately made you smile even though you tried so hard to hold it back. “Of course I want to celebrate with you, that's not what I meant. This is the best day of my life.”
He chuckled before grabbing your hand and moving away from the door. He opened it again and like a few moments before, he checked no one was coming. When he realized that no one was passing by at that moment, you both left the storage room and he closed the door behind you.
You both smoothed your dress even though it was totally useless, anyone from a mile away could tell you had some hot sex just some moments before.
But you didn't care, it was your day, yours and Jay's and damn, you were free to do whatever you wanted even if it meant sneaking out of your own party to have sex in a storage room.
Okay, it wasn't a very proper thing to do but what could you say, all couples consummated their marriage on their wedding night, you and Jay had just rushed things along.
So you walked hand in hand with your fingers intertwined towards the wedding reception, both of you with a stupid and joyful smile on your faces and happy as you had never been, ready to get drunk and finally start your life together.
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rosazoldyckk · 1 year
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-Yandere! Killua Zoldyck X Reader Headcanons-
⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of obsessive/yandere tendencies, kidnapping, stalking and assassination.
Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Killua Zoldyck, Silva Zoldyck, Kikyo Zoldyck, Gon freecs.
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Killua's love for you is intense. This new and rather unique feeling confuses him, and as much as he doesn't want to, he asks his mother and father about it.
Well, safe to say that Kikyo is absolutely FURIOUS that Killua is even thinking about something so foolish. She dedicated her whole being to raising her sons so that they could be the best assassins the zoldyck's could raise, and the heir to the family is thinking about love?? OUTRAGEOUS!!
Silva however, Is much more relaxed than his wife is and even encourages Killua to explore deeper into how he feels about you. To Killua, his father just wants him to be happy and free however in reality Silva wants a secured future for the Zoldyck family. So long as his son remains 'obedient' then all is well. (And maybe Silva can use you as a way to blackmail Killua if he ever becomes a hassle for the family)
Anyways. Now that Silva is on board, Killua is free to do whatever he wants with you!
No doubt that Killua politely asked Milluki to retrieve some information about you. (And by politely asked I mean threatened to destroy Milluki's dolls) And after Milluki being the ‘wonderful’ big brother that he is, Killua now knows all of your family's dark secrets that even you don't know.
Gon is the first to know about Killua's crush on you and in short he's super happy for his best friend! Gon is also just as encouraging as Silva is, even trying to spend some more time with Leorio and Kurapika so that you and you and Killua can have some 'alone time' (Gon doesn't know how crazy Killua is for you.)
Spontaneously walked up behind you one day in York new city and cut off some of your hair. Everyone around to witness it, including you, thought that he was some sort of psychopathic stalker when he was actually trying to be sweet. Even after all this time he still has it in a small ziplock bag underneath his pillow.
He really likes sleeping in the same room as you. Even when you don't know that he's there. You look so impossibly adorable, what with your tranquil expression and your gorgeous body. Killua couldn't help but wonder how it might feel to have you so at peace in his arms, with your steady and gentle breaths pushing against him. He wondered how it might feel to have your hands so securely wrapped in his own, with the softness of your skin soothing his.
Goes without saying that he'd 100% kill for you or torture someone in your name. What else could he do to prove his love? Must he rip out his heart and lay it on a bed of roses for you to acknowledge his undying emotions for you? If he needed help, than surely Gon, Kurapika and Leorio wouldn't hesitate.
Let's face it. Killua wasn't asking you out. He was telling you, you're now dating. He’s got a forceful side to him when it comes to starting the relationship.
If you didn't want to date him, that's just too damn bad because how are you in a position to refuse him when he’s the heir to the worlds strongest assassin family?
"We're not a couple, Killua! Stay away from me!" You screamed. Killua giggled as he looks up at you, a wicked smirk plastered on his face. "Yes... We are, Y/N. I've chosen you." He steps closer, making you gulp. "You're mine now~"
Killua wears the pants in your relationship. Well, he made the pants. He's the dominant one out of you two and he won't have it another way.
He's not delusional, just a boy who’s in love.
Killua may be a little immature, but boy is he smart. Growing up the way he did really gifted him with the art of manipulation and gaslighting to get his way.
Sometimes, he likes to make you feel foolish and pathetic. As a powerplay move.
He informs everyone including his family that both of you are dating. Even if it is not technically true. If Killua says your his. Then sorry, but there’s not much that anyone can do to help you.
Killua also forces his affection on you. (If you can even call it that). His favorite form of physical affection is hand-holding.
His favorite kisses to give are kisses on your knuckles. It's a gentleman's habit he learned here and there.
Call Killua a gentleman, and he’ll hold the title with pride
He'd give you the most bizarre but most expensive gifts (mostly from rich and fancy people that he’s had to assassinate). A whole bar of gold, a diamond necklace, rare animals, flower stems, the fingers of the people he’s had to kill, etc.
Killua isn’t overly expressive when it comes to telling you how much he loves you, Y’know since he didn’t really grow up hearing the words ‘I love you’ on a regular basis. So I think the farthest he expresses his love to you is through his drawings, and the occasional makeout session.
Killua would come to your home in the middle of the night with his skateboard and wake you up just so that he can tell you about the assassin life and how difficult it is. (As much as it’s fun to talk to you, Killua’s purely telling you so that you think twice about ever leaving him)
Now let's talk kidnapping...
If you got to a point where you couldn't take Killua forcing himself on you anymore and trying to flee, he would surely track you down in a short amount of time and then have you tied up tightly somewhere.
It saddens Killua deeply, to think that his love for you simply wasn’t enough to satisfy you, but he makes a silent oath to himself that he will try and be better, the second that he finds somewhere that will make sure that you never leave his side ever again.
His next step would be to inform his parents that a "guest" will be living with them for a while. And as skeptical the family is (an no matter how enraged Kikyo is upon hearing your arrival) they welcome you into their home. (On Killua’s demand) They don't even blink twice at the ropes wrapped around you or the collar tightened around your neck.
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ilyhaitanii · 1 month
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comforting voices ft. acheron & kafka (seperate)
sfw. there are many things in all of our lives that break us down, make us do things we would never. there's always light at the end of the tunnel, as they say. however, what they don't tell you is that you do not have to walk this treacherous path alone. she is always at your side, holding a torch as you both walk through the tunnel.
a/n: wrote this on a whim. i love acheron and kafka so much, i just had to write smth for my two girls <33
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acheron:
"do you think we'll ever be able to adventure home, acheron?" you ask your wife, fingers carding through her smooth hair. she hums nonchalantly, turning to bury her face in your neck and loop her arms around you. the gloomy mood that suffocates your hotel room doesn't good unnoticed by either of you, yet neither of you can speak about it. seeing mr. yang again soured acheron's mood for the evening. it's not his fault entirely, yet you know her heart aches to hug the man again and tell him all what she has witnessed.
"i doubt it," she mumbles against your skin, hands pulling your thighs over her hips. acheron rests against your shoulder, eyes fluttered shut. you rub her temples with your soft thumbs, listening to the way her breath evens out.
"do you think mr. yang knows? i wanted to tell him when we saw him," you express quietly. acheron lifts her head out of your neck, brows furrowed. her gloved fingers trail up your arm, cupping your cheek.
"it is possible. however, i would advise against that. we are to complete this mission and we will leave," her voice is quiet, careful not to break the fragile tension between you both. her free arm keeps a secure grip around your waist, hand under your shirt comfortably.
"you mean i will leave." your words shatter the fragile bubble around you both. acheron feels the shard of glass pierce through her heart. "this is a suicide mission. going up against the family-- this won't end well and you know it," there's anger, fear, yet above all, love in your voice. the soft trembles make acheron slide her hand into yours. she watches the tears pool in your lashes, carefully sliding them away when they drip down the soft expense of your cheek.
"i've come this far. i must complete this," you shuffle away from her, trying to shield your vulnerable complexion from her. acheron quickly pulls you back, needing to feel you in her arms. "there's no way i'll leave you behind. you know this, right?" her fingers lift your chin, planting a soft kiss between your brows.
instantly, you both curl into one another, clutching onto your lifelines. at the end of the day, you both are aware you would follow acheron into the pits of hell. you would allow yourself to sink into the depths of the galaxy as long as it could be in her arms. you would watch each other destroy yourselves just to uncover the secrets of ██████.
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kafka:
days when you have mara up flares, you always expect a hellish night. clouded memories pass by your eyes. the horror, blood, pain, agony-- everything all at once. you see it, feel it, taste it, breathe it, live it. kafka watches the way your body tenses and shakes with fear when these nightmares consume your being.
she sees it all with blade as well. she watches the way the mara breaks down a new part of your body with each day that passes. she watches as the nightmare become more intense, more real. she witnesses the blood that drips down your face when you wake up from that dream.
some days even her spirit whisper isn't helpful. you're still shaken, jumpy, far too tense compared to your sunny disposition. as you sit on your bedroom windowsill, gazing out onto the endless galaxy your mind wanders. the day the mara truly takes over your body, what will happen to you?
will you always have to witness these horrid memories constantly? will your heart always feel like it's being ripped to shreds, like someone is pressing on your lungs, like you're being pulled apart by every limb? your thoughts are interrupted by a hand on your shoulder.
you jerk, jumping beside the person. your eyes are blown wide, ready to reach for your sword. except it isnt at your side. you're at home, you're with kafka. you aren't back on ██████. you are safe.
"darling," her honey voice makes your shoulder slack. you walk into her embrace, smelling the expensive perfume she adorns herself with every day. kafka's jacket is draped around your shoulders as she sways you in her arms. "what was it today?" she asks softly.
"nothing new. i'll be fine, dont worry." you mumble against her creamy skin. she hums, rubbing your back and kissing your head.
"i know, but i still worry. come, i made lunch. maybe having something besides coffee in your stomach will put you at ease for a bit," kafka's hand is intertwined with yours as she drags you down the space station halls. you admire the way her hair is down today, elegantly flowing down her slender figure. you speak out her name when she puts her arm around your hips.
"i love you,"
"i love you too, my darling" she leaves another chaste kiss on your cheek. "forever."
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© ilyhaitanii - please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my content, and do not repost it to any other platforms
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astonmartingf · 9 days
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YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—
— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again
P9 ★ SEE YOU IN MY FUTURE
amgf probably 2k words? almost 3k? idk but it's hurt/comfort! i did cry, and yes so... i'm emotional because it's ending but also... it's ENDING 😀🫵 DKXJSKDJZJ one more chapter yay!!! shout out to day6, what would this chapter be without your songs... enjoy 👍
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You weren't sure what to expect— despite your severe reaction the past week, you're now mellowed down and calm, you think back on your conversation with Seb a few months ago before his retirement.
You definitely have not moved on, and the mention of the upcoming season definitely felt like a band-aid ripped off a bleeding wound. And all the pain and resentment you felt was now revealed beneath the familial memories you built with Ales and Fernando.
Driving up to his gate, you're instantly filled with the comfort of his private home. The place you spent most of your time outside work, and even more than your own house, with Ales and Fernando. You rub away the headache slowly building in your head, getting out of your car and meeting Fernando who greeted you out of his home.
"Are you feeling better?"
You wince away, as you take a seat on the chair opposite of him. It would be much easier if he resented you the way you did. That you'd rather he treat you unfairly in the last few years, but he's Fernando. He's the father of your son, and the man you tenderly love, even to this day.
Which only hurts more, knowing you can never fully let go of the past, despite both growing since your separation but seeing him with Ales sparked the burning hope in you. Maybe this would be the time for you and Fernando, that this might be the future you've been longing for all along.
"I'm sorry, how I reacted last week... I thought I was okay with it, but I guess I still feel the same way." You rub your arms, looking elsewhere but Fernando's eyes, knowing well he's staring right through you. You were scared and vulnerable, all throughout the years you noticed your apprehension in communicating your feelings for the sake of your relationship. And it wasn't going well for you, or for Fernando, but this time it'd be different.
"And before you say anything, I just want to say that I'm proud of you. I'm glad you still race, and for the upcoming season. I understand if you think it's too selfish of me not to come, but Ales will, I just think I'm not ready for it yet."
You gulp down your nerves, raising your head, staring head on at Alonso who is still smiling. It breaks your heart, seeing him like this— if only he'd get up and say something about how unfair it is to him.
"I understand it. You don't have to worry, I won't force you." Silence.
The room was met with silence, until you hear the sniffles coming from Fernando, leaving you frozen in your seat. As much as you hate being vulnerable in front of him, you never thought he'd cry in front of you first.
You hear his laughter, seconds after as he wipes the tears falling from him eyes.
"Please, don't worry this is not your fault... I guess you could say I'm overwhelmed. I only ever thought about this moment, I kept thinking about when we can have this talk, but you were so focused on Ales. Rightfully so, he's our son and our priority, so even though I wanted to fix what has been broken before, maybe it wasn't the time. And when we talked last night, I kept blaming myself for rushing you, because it was my fault.
And now, you're telling me yourself, I'm happy you're here. I'm happy that you told me yourself, and every day I will prove myself to be better, not just as Ales' father but as someone who is worthy to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm being emotional, I just didn't think I would come close to this again. And with you, if you resent me, I won't blame you. I resent myself every day, after you left me, and this... this is more than enough for me right now."
It wasn't long before the tears began to fall from your eyes, you only ever thought of your pain. Choosing to leave with Ales, away from Fernando— away from the years you've been together. Away from the only man you ever loved.
Your only concern was licking the wounds of what was left from Fernando, what you didn't think was how he felt all those years.
"I'm sorry... How lonely it must've felt for you all those years. Away from Ales— I promise you, this time it will be different. One day, we will be together— I know it, because I don't think I'd have it any other way than you. I love you Fernando! I still do, even after all these years—"
Closing you eyes, your hands instinctively wrap around Fernando's neck wanting him closer, pulling him from more. Hands grabbing his face, feeling the tears fall down your fingers. Wiping them away, you kiss him once more before pulling each other in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kiss you without—"
"Shhh..." You hush Fernando's worries, resting your head on his shoulder, hands trailing over his back, resting them on top of his thick hair.
"I'm happy we had this conversation as well. Thank you Fernando. Thank you for still seeing me in your future. I had so many worries, and questions— all this time, I was just a coward. A selfish coward you decided for the both of us."
Fernando shakes his head, tutting his lips, "I won't let you day those things to yourself you hear me? You are brave and courageous, understand? And I love you, even though I feel undeserving of your feeling, I will work hard to be the man who deserves it. What happened, I don't blame you. But we'll figure these things out as the time goes by, don't be a stranger?"
With blurry eyes, you remove your head from Fernando's shoulders nodding your head. "I think I need to rest for a bit, can I take a nap here for a bit?"
"You want me to pick up Ales from Lance's while you sleep?"
The mention of your son immediately brought the sparkle in your eyes, which wasn't missed by Fernando who only smiled as he tucked you in his bed. "You can rest for a while, and when you wake up, we will be here. Sleep well Amor."
You feel your eyes getting heavier as Fernando's voice begins to thin out, you feel him leave a small kiss on your forehead causing you to smile before dosing off to your sleep.
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yourusername
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liked by lancestroll, sebastianvettel, and 41 others
yourusername may the spark in your eye, and the fire in your heart burns brighter, lighting a flame to your path wherever you go.
★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol @celemilii @lozzamez3 @callsignwidow @hrts4scarr
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angelbaby-fics · 7 months
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I saw that u write for Daddy stucky x little x little Peter and it's si adorable 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Maybeeeee 🐝
Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in babyspace like daipers and all the time sleepy and she just want to be in daddies arms but they need to go to the avenger tower and have a Meeting and another cg babysit the little one's but the baby reader dont understand why daddies aren’t there and just cries and petie try to comfort her and when daddies are back and daddy bucky picks her up she immediately stops crying and falls asleep and more fluff u can choose how petie would try to comfort her (he is like 6 or 7 in headspace)
Proud Of You
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Word Count: 1.4k
Pairing: CG!Stucky x Little!Reader x Little!Peter (fem terms used for reader)
A/N: hello lovely anon! my requests are actually closed but………… i really liked this idea 😮 sooo i wrote it anyways!! i really really love big brother peter 🥺 and i tried to make this as fluffy as can be! enjoy 💕
It was the dreamiest afternoon, a heavy blanket of clouds pushing away the last sunrays of summer as autumn made itself known. As you napped in your crib, Peter and Bucky were enjoying a movie on tv, curled up on the big couch in the living room. Steve had left on an errand to the grocery store, suddenly inspired by the overcast weather to cook a cozy meal for his family. A scented candle on the shelf in the corner filled the room with warmth, and Bucky took deep breaths as he stroked Peter’s hair, filing away this perfect moment in his mind to look back on whenever he needed to remember just how safe his life was now. He tried to ignore the phone buzzing in his pocket, silently cursing whoever was trying to disturb his heaven, but when the notifications continued to flood in, he reluctantly answered the call.
Peter sat up as Bucky maneuvered to retrieve his phone, the sudden movement of his favorite pillow pulling the kiddo from the brink of an unplanned nap. Peter looked up at his Baba as he answered the phone, furrowing his brows as Bucky sighed. On the other end, Steve lightly chided his husband for not answering sooner, before letting him know that he was currently stranded at the store, the family car unresponsive in the parking lot. Bucky reassured Steve that he’d be right there, running a tired hand over his face as he hung up the phone and picked up the baby monitor that showed your nursery. The video showed you still fast asleep in your crib, pacifier half fallen out of your mouth. Mentally calculating the time it would take to reach the store and back, Bucky decided it wasn’t worth disturbing your nap for an errand that would hopefully be over before you even woke up to notice he was gone.
“What’s wrong, Baba?” Peter spoke up. There was anxiety in his voice, but not very much; he could tell it must not be an emergency if Bucky was so calm.
“Daddy’s car broke and I have to go pick him up from the store.” Bucky tried not to sound too annoyed.
“Can I come?” Peter asked eagerly, but Bucky shook his head.
“Not this time, pumpkin. I need you to be a big boy and take care of the house while I’m gone. Don’t answer the door for anyone and try not to wake up your sister, okay baby?”
Peter nodded enthusiastically, thrilled to be assigned a mission - even if that mission was just to stay put on the couch and not get into trouble.
With a kiss to the top of the spider boy’s head, Bucky was out the door, wanting more than anything to get this done as quickly as possible. Peter stared at the door for what felt like ages after it had closed behind his Baba, counting down the minutes until his return. And then he heard your cry from the baby monitor speaker.
Your precious slumber was interrupted, your peaceful dreams morphing into a heart stopping nightmare, almost as if you could sense your Baba’s absence and your Daddy’s distress. Tossing and turning, you ripped your way out of the cocoon of sleep, letting out a choked sob as you desperately tried to rejoin the waking world. You opened your eyes into the darkness, anxiously staring at your nursery door, almost mentally willing it to burst open and your daddies to come rushing in. But when the door finally did open, it was tentative, and the figure you saw illuminated by the hall light was not who you expected.
Peter rushed towards you as soon as he saw your desperate face. He reached through the bars of your crib to hold your hand as he reassured you were safe, big brother was here and he wasn’t gonna let anything hurt you. But it was no use, you just kept thrashing and crying out.
“Daddy! Baba!!” You wailed, needing more than anything just to be wrapped in their big strong arms, protected from anything and everything that could come your way.
Peter crouched down so his face was level with yours, wanting more than anything just to comfort you.
“Daddies aren’t here right now, but it’s okay, I got you!” Peter reassured you, and although you stopped fighting and let your body calm down, your tears still didn’t stop.
“Baba…” You sobbed, your chest heaving up and down with nervous breaths.
“Can I get you out of your crib?” Peter asked, his hand already on the latch.
You nodded and Peter let down the bars of the crib, helping you down onto the carpeted floor. He held your hand all the way as he led you back to the living room, his protective heart breaking as he heard you sob behind him. He brought you to the couch and helped you onto it, making sure you were comfy and stable, knowing you were particularly small at the moment. Peter wrapped you in a plush throw blanket and grabbed the nearest stuffed animal, tucking it into the blanket with you.
“I gotta go to the kitchen, okay?” He asked, and your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll be right back!”
You watched him all the while he zoomed around the corner into the kitchen, never leaving your line of sight as he ran to the fridge and pulled out a premade bottle. Taking the lid off, he put it in the microwave for less than a minute, just enough to bring it around room temperature, and as an added courtesy, he even made sure to open the microwave door before it could beep too loudly.
Just as quickly as he’d rushed into the kitchen, Peter was right back by your side, climbing up onto the couch to join you. He wrapped an arm around your blanketed body, leaning you into him as he brought the lukewarm bottle to your lips. With tears still in your eyes, you drank. The warm milk filling your belly brought your mind into focus, and your breathing steadied with each sip. With the hand that wasn’t already clutched around your stuffie, you reached out to Peter, gripping his pointer finger with your whole hand. The more you calmed down, the more your brother did as well, now confident in his ability to take care of you. You weren’t even halfway through with the bottle when you heard a familiar key in the front door lock.
Your milk drunk eyes flew open, laser focused on the door as it opened to reveal your two favorite people in the whole world. Peter dropped the bottle, but you’d already forgotten about your post-nap snack, your only care in the world was getting into your daddies’ arms as quickly as possible. Your arms reached out, fingers flexing out at Steve and Bucky, desperate for them to finish bringing in the groceries, locking the door, taking off their shoes. It felt like it was taking forever.
“Well look who’s awake!” Steve’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, just about as eager as you were to have you in his arms. He relieved you from Peter’s lap, and you gripped his shirt up in your fists, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his comforting scent. Peter was left to look up at Bucky, studying his face to try and figure out what he was thinking.
“I’m sorry Baba.” He apologized preemptively, just in case Bucky was mad at your nap ending prematurely.
“Sorry about what, kiddo? You didn’t wake her up on purpose, did you?”
Peter shook his head rigorously, hoping to convey to his Baba that he’d never do that.
“Then you have nothing to be sorry for, okay baby boy? In fact, it looks like you did a pretty good job holding down the fort while we were gone. I’m so proud of you.” Bucky said, picking up Peter and joining you and Steve in the kitchen where the ingredients for that night’s special dinner were all spread out on the counter.
“Yea! Luv oo!” You chimed in, and Peter grinned the widest you’d ever seen him.
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