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eskey-09 · 1 year
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sundrop-writes · 21 days
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Careful - Chapter One
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 
Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 
… 
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 
You had a son. 
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 
And his birth date was… fuck. 
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 
One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 
Four years, eight months, and two days. 
It wasn’t difficult math. 
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 
What the fuck was going on? 
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 
“Did you find something?” 
… 
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 
It could definitely work. 
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 
It had been four years. 
JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 
“One thing at a time, alright?” 
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 
And now the two of you likely had a child together. 
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 
You were breath-taking. 
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 
The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 
… 
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 
It was a perfect night. 
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 
“Interesting.” You replied. 
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 
“And see-” 
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 
It was perfect. You were perfect. 
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 
But Spencer was nothing like that. 
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
“That was… wow.” He sighed. 
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 
“Well, I - you - wow.” 
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 
Back then - everything had been perfect. 
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
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starkeysmoon · 1 year
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MISSED YOU
paring: neteyam sully x omaticaya gender neutral! reader
summary: neteyam sneaks away to see you
warnings: none, fluff!
word count: 1.2K!
request: hi i have a neteyam request :) i’d like to read about neteyam sneaking out to see his secret gf, basically his rebellious era hahah, where instead of doing his duties he goes to see his gf and he is happier with her, not needing to be the perfect son (bonus if the sully family are shocked by his recent behaviour and then meet his gf)
a/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for the request! i’m thinking of making the bonus into a part two, hope that’s alright. (also! my orignal upload got deleted??)
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it wasn’t in neteyam’s nature to act like this. disregarding his parents' orders and sneaking around to see you.
however, he couldn't stop thinking about you. especially the laugh that would fall from your lips when he made a joke, the never-ending smile he wore when he was around you, the warmth of your touch, and just the way you made him feel in general.
It was as if you had cast a spell on him that he couldn’t seem to break from, not that he was complaining.
all he knew for certain was that he needed to see you. as a result, he settled to complete his task as soon as possible. his parents, particularly his father, had instructed him to gather twigs and branches for the mreki u'lito (fire pit) tonight.
he hastily gathered the twigs and branches, tying them together before he placed them to the side of a tree and hiding them well. he made a mental note to himself that he would bring them back home later, as he was supposed to.
a sense of guilt filled his chest as he looked back to check on the now-wrapped twigs and branches. his hands trembled a little. his tail swooshed from side to side. debating if he wanted to go through with it or not.
neteyam knew he shouldn’t leave his duties unattended, especially as the eldest son of the family. his parents were counting on him.
he knew it was wrong and that they would be worried if he didn't return soon, but why did being around you feel so right? he let out a huff, shaking his head before walking in the direction of your meeting spot.
neteyam was approaching, walking quickly, but he paused. his ears perked up when he heard familiar sounds of laughter and giggles coming from south the direction of where you were supposed to meet.
he followed instinctively and was met with a surprising sight. you were playing with a plant, the helicoradian to be exact.
he watched you in awe as you touched the leaf, it coiled up and retracted to the ground in response. you let out a soft giggle before moving to the next one.
“(name)!” he called, a smile filling his face. you turned towards the sound of the voice, smiling, before rushing towards the young boy and immediately engulfing him in a hug.
he sighed in contentment at the warmth of your presence. his previous sullen demeanor completely washing away from his body. his hands moved down to your waist and drew you in closer. the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before eventually pulling away.
“that seemed like a lot of fun,” he noted, and you nodded your head in agreement.
“it was.” you answered, your smile widening. “so, what brings you here?” you teased, already knowing the answer.
“a certain someone,” he quipped.
“and where might that certain someone be, neteyam?” you inquired, a smirk now tugging at your lips.
“they happen to be right in front of me,” he says happily, you giggle at his answer as he takes your hands and places them in his own.
“so miss me already, huh?” you teased once more.
“more than anything.” he sighs, his thumb gently caressing your hand.
“you know, it’s only been a day,” you point out, and he laughs in response.
“and a day is already long enough for me to miss you, my love,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours.
your cheeks feel hot at his words and your stomach does a flip, almost as if butterflies had entered your stomach and were fluttering around. “you just can’t seem to get enough of me can you?”
he chuckles at your words. “yes, I truly cannot (name).”
you pull him in for another hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his hands wrap around your waist gently. the two of you soaking in each other’s warmth and presence once more.
he always made you feel at ease when he was close to you, and you adored him for it. you peppered soft kisses along his neckline before gazing up to look at your boyfriend to find that he was already looking at you with a grin on his face.
“i see you (name),” he says softly, before planting a gentle peck to your lips.
“i see you too, neteyam.” you beam up at him, noticing how his eyes light up at your words and how you can tell they are filled with so much love and care.
“now, are you up for a quick game of who can close all the helicoradians the fastest?” he challenged with an annoyingly cheeky face, and you playfully roll your eyes.
“oh, you’re on, sully!” you say, rushing towards the helicoradians before you’re pulled back as a hand latches onto the end of your tail.
“hey!” you yelp, swishing your tail out of his grasp. “that’s not fair”
“I never said it had to be fair,” he says, lips curving into a teasing smirk.
“i’ll get you for that!” you threaten.
“go right ahead, (name). i’m right here” he taunts, holding up his hands as if to assert his innocence.
you launch your body onto him, causing the two of you to tumble onto the ground. the helicoradians shrink right under you as the two of you playfully roll around the forest floor trying to topple one another.
it’s a continuous cycle of either one of you on top saying a smug sentence before they get flipped over and their back’s pressed down against the forest floor and they are proven wrong again.
“willing to surrender now, (name?)” neteyam asks, noticing your somewhat tired state, his body now on top of yours pressing you down on the ground.
“no,” you reply, refusing to back down despite the obvious fatigue in your voice.
although your response confirms his suspicions, and he moves away from you before offering his hand, which you gratefully accept.
the first thing you notice when you’re back off the forest floor is neteyam’s body covered with dirt before your eyes flicker to your own.
you gently brush it off yet it does no good, as it creates an even bigger smudge. neteyam moves towards you and helps you brush off the rest of the dirt on your body.
“thank you, neteyam” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, eyes full of gratefulness.
“no worries, my love.” he chuckles, his hand moving to place a braid behind your ear. your cheeks turn into a shade of pink at his motion.
“i really do love you, you know that?” you say, giggling. he nods his head at your words, “and i really love you too.”
the two of you turn around hand in hand to notice that the helicoradian field had coiled and shrunken to the ground.
you both end up bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's competitiveness earlier. “it’s a draw,” you exclaim, and neteyam merely shakes his head. “you wish.”
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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hi. im just a girl daydreaming about mating with aged up! loak. please make my dreams come true. some angst. with happy ending. female reader. smut. I BEG YOU. and i would do ANYTHING.
kisses lots of love and bye 🥰
The moon, the stars and his life
adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader
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Words: 2.4k
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, sexual harassment, bullying, mean Aonung (sorry to all Aonung stans), smut with feelings, possessive / jealous Lo‘ak
Notes: I hope that’s what you had in mind, I was simultaneously writing Lo‘ak x reader angst for my fic on ao3 and had to make sure they’re not too similar 😵‍💫
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Lo‘ak didn’t know what he did to deserve such a blessing in the shape of you. Did he even deserve it? He doubts it. You were just so perfect, from the top of your head to your cute little toes and the tip of your tail. Perfect.
Which is why it hurts even more, to hear those Metkayina boys talk about him like this to you...
Originally, he just wanted to go for a swim, see what you were up to and if you wanted to come along and spend some time with him. Down at the shore is where he had finally found you. You were sitting in the sand, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin and with your feet in the clear water, while you were braiding your hair in peaceful silence. Lo’ak was about to approach you, until Aonung and his friends came into view.
The sight of them, surrounding you like you were their prey made him clench his teeth in anger. But before he mindlessly jumps into action like last time, he decides to watch, see what they’re gonna do. At first he thought they would tease you too, just like they did with him and Kiri- for your different shaped tail and small arms. But the conversation quickly went into a different direction.
"…You should hang out with us instead", one of them says and reaches his hand out to brush through your hair. "We can show you around, nobody knows these island like we do, baby." You’re quick to shove his hand away, politely declining his offer. You’re always so kind, Lo’ak sighs. Too kind. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, couldn’t treat them in the same disrespectful way as they were treating you.
"Ohh I forgot", Aonung says with a wink to his friends that you completely miss, "You and Lo‘ak, right?" The chiefs son confidently lays his arm around your shoulder and pulls you a little closer, much to your visible annoyance. "What does a pretty girl like you even see in a freak like him, huh? Have you seen his hands? Gross!" The group laughs at his words. "That dick can’t even be that good, right? If you come with us, we‘ll show you how you deserve to be treated." You scrunch your nose in disgust of these words.
"C‘mon, don’t be so shy, we don’t bite. Let’s have a little fun together. You don’t have to hang around with that freak all day." Aonung leans even closer to you and that’s when you finally decide it’s enough and get up. It pains him to see that forced smile on your lips, knowing you’re too scared to tell these guys to fuck off. Instead, you politely tell them that you had to leave now.
"If you ever want to get a taste of real Na‘vi, you know where to find me!" Aonung calls after you and his friends can’t hold back their laughs.
~
"Lo‘ak, there you are!", your soft voice calls out for him. "Oel ngati kameie." You greet him with a smile but he can’t bring himself to return it to you. With a frown you sit down next to him and immediately ask, "What’s wrong?" Lo‘ak shrugs, "Nothing is wrong."
"Are you sure?", you lean against his side and look up to him through your long lashes.
"Yes, I‘m sure", Lo‘ak responds cold and you sigh.
"Lo‘ak I’ve known you long enough now, I can tell from a mile away that there’s something on your mind so spit it out." The Na‘vi knows he won’t stand a chance against you. You always got everything you wanted from him and it was impossible to tell you no, let alone keep something secret from you. You definitely had your ways of getting him to talk…
"Do you think I’m a freak?", he mumbles and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.
"What?", you scoff, "Why would I think that?"
"I’ve heard your conversation with Aonung", he tells you with a painful look on his face.
"These guys are pricks, Lo‘ak. Just a bunch of village boys that are probably too scared to ever leave their home. They could’ve never done what you and your family did."
"I know that but–"
"Just imagine them in the forest, do you think they would be able to adapt as quick as you did? Can you imagine Aonung bonding with an Ikran?" She laughs and his features soften a little. "Fishlips wouldn’t survive a day!"
It’s incredible. You are incredible. You just had this way of magically washing away all of his worries in the blink of an eye.
"So you’re… not interested in spending your time with Aonung instead of me?" He playfully nudges your side and you giggle.
"Oh you know, his offer was definitely appealing, but I’m way more interested to be with one of those Omatikaya boys. You know, the cute one? What was his name again?"
Lo‘ak rolls his eyes and chuckles, "Skxawng."
"No, I think his name is Lo‘a–" You can’t even finish the sentence. Without thinking, Lo’ak reaches down, hand cupping the back of your neck so he can haul you into a kiss. He always kisses you like it was the only thing that could keep him from dying, like your kiss and your lips were his saving grace in life.
You kiss him back just as eagerly, matching his vigor, his speed and that’s one of the things he loves about you. One of the things that’s been driving him crazy, keeping him up until ungodly hours as he tries to figure out how someone could affect him this way. You always keep up, even if you’re not ready to run into the line of fire.
You rest your hand on his chest, tilting your head and he instantly wedges his tongue between your lips. Lo’ak has something of an oral fixation. He’s all lips and teeth and tongue, he sucks and bites at every inch of skin he sees, like somehow it brings you even closer to him. You know that it isn’t necessary for him to leave a mark, everybody knows you are his, but he tends to anyways, with how he assaults your skin. In the blink of an eye, your top is discarded to somewhere behind him and then your back makes contact with the warm sand. The Na’vi groans with your nipple between his lips, desperation rocketing through your core and up your spine at the feeling, the sound. His lashes flutter as he suddenly pulls back to gaze up at you.
Lo’aks fingers tighten on your hips, almost possessively, as he looks at you. "You’re mine", he tells you and immediately you know, it's not something he says just like that. Nothing he says only in the heat of the moment. He says it because he means it. You were his. Always and forever. You look at him with your big doe eyes and nod. He reaches behind his back for his braided ponytail and then presents those tiny, pinkish tendrils in front of your face. You waste no time doing the same, reaching for your tswin.
"Say it", he demands, breathing heavily, "Say you’re mine." His pupils dilate as he watches your lips move, "I‘m yours, Lo‘ak. Only yours." And with that you connect, forming the tsaheylu bond. Your eyes close and you sigh in unison.
An almost animalistic purr rumbles deep within his chest and his broad hands sweep up your thighs, the lightest of touches searing against your bare skin. You lean yourself on your forearms to catch his lips in another kiss, rougher this time, letting him wrap his arms around you and pull you closer. Subconsciously, you roll your hips up against his, gasping into his mouth at the grind of his erection against your core. His hold on you falters for just half a second and then it returns with a vengeance, fingers digging into your skin and you gasp.
Lo‘ak‘s lip twitches up into a smug smile.
He’s desperate to have you. Seeing another man hit on you today has awoken some animalistic urge inside of him. He wants you to scream– scream so loud that everyone in the village would know what’s going on. If he wasn’t so possessive over you, he would’ve enjoyed to let Aonung watch you fall apart for him and nobody else. Because yes, his dick really is that good.
Your hips buck, seeking any sort of friction to ease the ache between your thighs. The throbbing between your legs has steadily grown and now reached a point where you couldn’t ignore it. Lo‘ak is quick to realize that and grinds his own hips against yours. You can’t help but let out a desperate moan.
Lo’aks hands make quick, steady work on your loincloth, pushing and pulling at it until it‘s bunched around your waist just high enough so that he can slip his hand between your thighs and finally get a feel of your wet heat.
“So wet for me already, sweet girl?” A lewd grin takes over his face as he runs two fingers through your slit. "I’ve barely even started." He dips his fingers into you just enough so that you begin to feel a hint of the stretch he could give you, but not enough to please any desire. "Lo‘ak please", you whine desperately. "Please, what? Tell me what you want, my mate."
How could you possibly decide?
“Anything, I’ll take anything", You moan out.
With a chuckle, Lo‘ak makes the decision for you, moving quickly as he frees his cock from his loincloth. You stare at it without a shame. No matter how many times you saw it, you would never get tired of the perfect sight. Lo‘ak kisses you once more, kisses you like it was the last time he would ever get to.
Slowly, he lowers his body onto yours, until there was not a single part of you both that was not touching. You fit together like a puzzle.
Pushing a hand in between your bodies, he guides the tip of his cock to prod against your entrance. "Don’t forget to breathe", he whispers against your lips and you release the breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding. The stretch of his cock entering you is a lot, but it’s not entirely painful. You whine and cling to him, nails digging into his back and Lo‘ak groans.
His fingers expertly find your clit and he begins to rub small, gentle circles around it, never ceasing to kiss you all the while. A shudder goes through your entire body at the stimulation and you sigh into his mouth before breaking away to let out a long moan.
You’re warm and soft around him, tight but still giving as he stretches you. Once fully inside, he stills, pushing his face into the side of your neck. "Oh fuck,” he curses under his breath.
He reaches up to grab one of your arms, pulling it from its position around his back and pushes it down on the warm sand, intertwining your three fingers with his own, four, much larger ones.
And then, he begins to move. His strokes are deep and on point, pace slow at first but increasing as time passes, your whines turning more desperate with every thrust of his hips. His eyes roam over you, starting from where you were connected– in and out, his cock glistening with your slickness. Then your breasts, bouncing every time your hips meet. And finally your face, lips swollen red from his kisses, cheeks flushed and eyes half lidded, yet still focused on him –an expression that only he would ever get to see on that pretty face of yours.
From then on, his eyes were locked with yours. Something has him trapped in your gaze and if you asked him to now, he would give you the moon and the stars and his life.
A moan slips past his lips when he feels you clench around him. "You feel -oh, fuck- feel so good, squeezing me so tight", and to underline his statement, his hips snap roughly against yours and you moan, loud. "Lo‘ak!"
"Yeah, just like that. Let them all hear who’s making you feel so good", he groans. Unable to hold himself back, the Na‘vi starts to increase his pace to match the intensity of his feelings for you. You buck your hips, trying to match his as a shared effort to chase the sweet release together. Sounds of pleasure fall from both of your lips, uncaring if you’re too loud. It’s was too late for that now anyways.
The coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, prompting you to curl your toes. You squirm against Lo‘ak, who continues to hold you close to his body as his thrusts loose their rhythm, becoming much more erratic. "I’m coming, Lo’ak, feels too good", you moan and whine and he nods along to your words. "I know, I know its so fucking good, right?" You lift your legs and wrap them around his hips, locking your ankles together behind him as Lo‘ak continues to pound into you, unable to think of anything else asides from the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock.
He curses under his breath, uncertain if he can hold out for much longer until one deep and hard thrust has you throwing your head back, screaming out his name as your body shakes under him, your walls clenching dangerously tight around him. "Good girl", he praises as he fucks you through it, "That’s it, my sweet mate. Let me feel you cum on my cock." Your nails claw at his back without restraint, eliciting a small hiss from him before white fills his vision. His head dips low to bite into your shoulder, trying to muffle his own moans while enjoying the feeling of the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. And then he spills inside you, claiming you as his, once again.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The walk back to your marui pod is filled with sweet laughs and giggles, as you hold onto his arm and intertwine your fingers with his. Aonungs face is sour, anger radiating off of him in waves as you both pass him like two lovebirds. The both of you don’t even realize that he’s there, too lost in each others eyes, as you bring Lo‘ak‘s hands to your lips and press a soft kiss to his pinkie.
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“Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.” Part 2
pairings: neteyam x reader
warnings: cute, fluff, bad writing
key: skxawng - moron, muntxa - mate, yawne - dear/my love
summary: Neteyam tries to talk to Y/n, but the awkward teenagers don’t communicate well.
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After talking with his parents, Neteyam was determined to finally ask the girl he loved to be his mate.
As Neteyam searched for her, he daydreamed about what it would be like to have her as his mate.
Obviously the same, Neteyam thought to himself. I suppose some kissing.
Neteyam stopped in his tracks at this revelation.
He would get to kiss her.
His tail, out of his control, started wagging, thumping the floor in delight.
When he had caught himself in the act, he quickly collected his thoughts and continued walking.
When he finally spotting the girl he was searching for, his heart stopped.
She was petting the Ikran who were being fed, grinning happily.
Neteyam could feel his breath quicken, looking at the beauty he hoped to call his lover one day.
Said girl snapped him out of his thoughts when she had noticed and called him over.
Clearing his throat, he walked over to the girl, hoping to seem confident.
Sadly, his walk seemed as though he was limping, so when he was in front of the girl, she immediately grabbed him and started looking for any wounds.
Confused, Neteyam asked, “What are you doing?”
Missing the blush on his face, she simply answered, “Looking for a wound.”
“What wound,” he asked in a small voice, the lack of space between the two flustering hun.
“You’re limping, are you not?” The girl finally looked up from her search.
Blushing, though this time in embarrassment, Neteyam cleared his voice to explain.
“No, no, I am not limping. Sorry.”
Y/n looked at him in confusion, but laughed it off, slowly turning back to pet the Ikran.
“So, what are you doing here,” she asks, sliding her hands down the Ikran’s wings.
“I have something to ask you,” Neteyam says with uncertainty.
“Yes,” Y/n answers, her eyes remaining on the Ikran’s.
“Y/n, I need you to look at me when I ask you, it is important.”
Concerned, Y/n turns, pausing her actions of petting the Ikran to look at the boy.
The girl places her hand on his forearm, worried eyes catching it gaze.
“What is it ‘Teyam?”
Flustered, Neteyam looks down, not prepared to get Y/n’s full attention.
“It, it is not bad,” Neteyam tries fo start out before he hears the girls sigh of relief.
He softly smiles to himself, tail slightly and subtly thumping as he hears the girls concern for him.
Waiting for Neteyam fo continue, Y/n slides her arm from his forearm to his hand, softly rubbing her thumb against his rough, calloused hand.
Neteyam, finally having the guts to look up, stares straight into her eyes, making the teenage girl gulp.
“You know you are so kind ma Y/n.”
Y/n blushes and looks down, while Neteyam smirks, glad that this time it was not he who was flustered, but her.
“I- I really am not,” she tries to protest, but Neteyam shuts her down as fast as she had begun.
“No, you are, and do not tell me you are not. If anyone tells you that you are not, they are idiots. Blind, ugly, jealous skxawng‘s who can never compare to you.”
As Neteyam continued his rant, Y/n stared up at him and blushed.
She blushed hard.
Hearing the talented, generous, kind son known as the son of Toruk Makto speak in such admiration had her flustered and her heart was beating harder than it already was when she saw him walk towards her.
When Neteyam finally noticed her staring at him, he paused, flushing as he stared down.
The two awkward teenagers looked at the ground, feelings swirling all around the two, just bursting to come out.
Before either could get a word in, there was a call for the girl to head home.
Sadly, the girl turned to the boy who’s face had fallen at the call.
“I am sorry ma ‘Teyam, I must return home,” she whispered sadly.
Frustrated, yet understanding, he answered, “S’okay, I should probably be heading back as well.”
While both has agree they had to go, they stayed right where they were, before Y/n had taken a small step forward.
Y/n quickly went on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.
“I am sorry you could not ask what you wanted to, but tomorrow you can,” she shyly said glancing up at him.
Blushing harshly, he looked down at her and gave a big grin.
“Of course, yawne.”
The girl blushed at the term of endearment, and began walking backwards to leave.
“W-well, I should go now,” she said, quickly turning only to be hit by a tree.
Neteyam gasped and took a step forward to help her, when she shot up and called out, “I’m fine, bye now,” and scrambled away.
The boy couldn’t help but chuckle at the clumsy girl, and gazed longingly at the girls retreating figure with love.
He would tell her, hopefully tomorrow. Till then, he would wait.
For as long as he had to.
———————————————————————
Bonus:
When Neteyam had returned to his families tent, his mother and father were looking at him expectantly.
“So? Did you ask her,” his father asked.
“Not yet, but I will tomorrow,” Neteyam quietly answered.
Both parents let out a hiss of frustration. How could their son be so damn stupid?
“This is your fault,” Neytiri yelled at her husband.
“Mine? It’s not my fault the kids a stupid skxawng. In fact, I told him specifically: ‘Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.’ How hard is it to interpret that?”
Neytiri groaned in frustration, turning to her son.
“You better ask the girl tomorrow or else,” Neytiri threatened.
Neteyam gulped and nodded, headed towards his sleeping area to try and come up with a plan.
As he walked away, Lo’ak entered the tent snickering with Kiri.
“Did you see them? God he couldn’t man up and just ask her,” Lo’ak laughed.
Kiri went to her older brother’s defense.
“He tried, he can’t help that he’s a skxawng.”
Lo’ak continued to laugh as Kiri mumbled under her breath about how Neteyam will eventually man up.
Neteyam, from his bed, heard Kiri’s and Lo’ak’s conversation and groaned to himself.
Now he couldn’t back out, he had to ask Y/n.
Tomorrow.
———————————————————————
A/N: Oh my gosh thank you guys so much for the love on the first part!! People asked for a Part 2, so here it is! If you want to be tagged on the 3rd part, just comment.
Thank’s so much again 🫶
asked to be tagged: @mommyneytiri @marcswife21
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mydearlybeloathed · 2 months
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𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³
𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx
part one . part two . part three . part four
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than ten, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than ten. Being with the marines for more than a decade was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.
However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 
You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.
No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.
Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 
Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 
“Commander—”
“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”
“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”
They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”
She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.
Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.
You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?
“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 
You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.
It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?
Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).
You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.
The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 
The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”
“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.
You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.
If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…
He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 
“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”
You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”
After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.
A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 
“Brandy, if you please.”
You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.
You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.
Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.
“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.
Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.
“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”
Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”
“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”
You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”
He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”
Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”
“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”
You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”
“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”
A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”
He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”
“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 
You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”
Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”
“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”
His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”
You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”
Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Excuse me,” you startled.
“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”
Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”
“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.
“What?”
“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”
You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.
Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”
“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”
Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”
“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”
That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”
“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”
“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 
“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”
“Oh. It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”
He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”
Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.
You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”
You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”
Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”
You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”
Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.
Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 
The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.
Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 
“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”
“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.
She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”
Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 
The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.
You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 
How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 
Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.
Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—
And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 
You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.
Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.
Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?
“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”
A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.
Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.
“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”
A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 
Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.
“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”
A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.
You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”
For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.
જ⁀➴
Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 
Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—
He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 
He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.
“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”
Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”
He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”
Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”
The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”
Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”
The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”
Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.
You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 
Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.
“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”
Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.
Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 
Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 
But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard
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beiasluv · 1 year
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heyyy so i was thinking what would happen if neteyam went to jake for advice on how to ask the reader out, i just thought it'll be a cute moment :) you don't have to write it if u don't want to, completely up to u 💓
have a lovely day gorgeous 🫶
a father’s advice? neteyam x reader
a/n: that’s actually so cute / ye grammar mistake cuz I’m too potato / hope you enjoy, gorgeous gorgeous girl 🤍
masterlist
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saying who’s got the most rizz in the family is hard, their blood is strong. but one thing neteyam can’t deny, is that his father is the original rizz
how did he managed to pulled off neytiri? he don’t fucking know. the daughter of the chief while he is a ‘dreamwalker’ to them? he got them rizz
neteyam, being the golden child he is, is determined to follow his father’s footsteps.
and who else could he ask advice from? lo’ak? nope, that boy would never miss a chance to make fun of him, if he would go for his assistant. plus, he got rizzed up by tsireya, he down real bad.
kiri? nah, she has her own world and neteyam respects that. letting her be her free-spirited self would be the best option.
spider 👁️👁️ what does that boy know? does he even have a girlfriend? *ahem* i guess we’ll never know. he got the lowest rizz game in the family, with all due respect from neteyam.
tukkk, SHE IS A MINOR AND A CHILD.
neytiri? i guess? bet she would be more of a pain in the ahh if he would go to her for advice. being a mom she is, she would definitely judge neteyam’s crush and all of his dream would crash down. no, we don’t want that.
jake, it is.
but how? how to make it the least awkward to approach his dad about stuff like this?
he tried to give his dad signals and signs everyday but he doesn’t seem to pick them up. he even started to doubt if his dad is the real player, cuz them boy is clueless😭
“dad?”
“yes?” jake replied with his back facing neteyam.
“how do you er…like send a sign?”
“neteyam, i thought we went over this already,” he sighed. “press your collar when speaking, and say ‘over’ when you are done talking”
“oh!” he scratched his neck. “okay, sorry, dad.”
neteyam was hopeless 😭 but to get a girl, he can’t just give up easily
he tried again, now, with a little help from his sister
“dad,” he walked quietly into the marui where his dad is resting.
“what?” he grumbled.
“erm…last time…when…” his words fumbled around each other, while kiri came into the marui.
“when what? get to the point,” he shifted the blanket off his chest and sat up.
“dad, he is asking you how to ask a girl out,” she said nonchalantly as she looked through the drawer. “you’re welcome, bro,” with a swift of her tail, she was out the door.
“oh, well,” jake chuckled loudly. “have i heard correctly?”
“well, yea..yes.”
“c’mere, son,” he patted the mattress. “let me show you.”
jake would be so proud. he would laugh uncontrollably for like 10 minutes cause neteyam got him worried there.
but his son ask, he will reveal
“now, welcome to “the way of rizz 101” class with jake sully,” he joking said. “there are many ways to ask a girl out, alright, but there is a main pattern you must look out for.”
“number 1: set the mood. it is the most important, alright?” he ruffled neteyam’s locks. “you could never go wrong with setting the mood, look for spots, lighting, and the feels.” “guess where we got down, the tree of souls, yeah, magic, am i righ-“
“ew dad, please.”
“okay, listen to the experts, son,” he laughed. “number 2: make it personal, PER-SO-NAL”
“yes, i understand, I’m not dumb”
“no, son, it’s really important. don’t reuse your letters, never get her the same gift. DO NOT never ever use the same pick up line. AND definitely do not use the same pattern for every girl.” (amen to deja-vu from olivia rodrigo, guys)
“number 3: be yourself,” he patted his son back. “don’t be afraid, if she doesn’t accept your offer, don’t let it consume you.”
“how can i do that?” he retorted.
“what is she like?”
“she is the only girl i have ever laid my eyes on and they were stuck! can’t imagine even just one other girl that i have felt the same feelings i am feeling right now.”
“that’s the spirit, atta boy,” he chuckled. “then, i pray for eywa that this is the way.” “eywa will show you the way if she is the one for you,” he smiled softly.
“and a honorable mention, do not ever make a girl cry over your stupid mistakes, alright?”
“how would i know?”
“you would feel it, respect her, respect her as a goddess, hell yeah, adore her, like eywa,” he added. “she is gentle but deadly, the spirit of life. always ask for consent, always. when you are mated for life, you both become equal.”
“let her guide you, and let you guide her,” he held his palms together as one. “now, how to rizz a girl up is not useful without your effort,” he patted his son’s head and pushed him up.
“go get the girl, atta boy!”
today is a great day to go touch grass 😳 i mean- take care of yourself 🤍
@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin
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lopsushi · 9 months
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Part 2 for Part 1.
Princess Iron Fan was pacing around in her office room, biting her nails, and looking at her clock. It has been one day and hours since her son went missing. Her beloved husband went out searching with the clone bots including those mortals. She pulled her hair back and glanced at the window praying to Buddha that her child comes back home safely, or her husband finds him. That is till the door to her office slammed open making her frown and turn to the person who dared to disturb her pacing.
“Princess Iron Fan!” Tang said with a concerned face showing. “Come quick!”
She paled and quickly followed Tang, where they ran to the hall room where her husband, and that Noodle boy’s family were at. They were staring at a dark purple portal appearing in the middle of the room. She went to her beloved side with her eyes widened and tearing up.
“Brother…” She whispers out walking towards the portal till her husband grabs her shoulder.
She looked back confused but frown when she saw how serious her beloved was, making her turn back to the portal and everyone breath hitch because they knew that boot was so familiar. It belongs to none other than the Monkey King. Wukong stepped out looking at everyone with a dark expression, his red eyes glowing with his yellow pupil. She snarled angrily, her hand about to summon her weapon but gasp when she saw Wukong sticking a handout to see another hand that she knew by heart. Macaque grabs onto his King’s hand and steps out from the portal, but she notices how her beloved brother was glancing back at time with a worried expression. That’s when both her and her husband both felt fear and dread when they saw Wukong’s tail pulling out from the portal, Red Son.
“Son!!” Demon Bull King said his eyes widening in concern seeing his unconscious son. “What have you done to him, Simian!”
Wukong glanced at his brother and sighed with disdain in his voice. “Look, I just taught my nephew a lesson. He came to my kingdom uninvited.” He said moving his tail towards him. “He tried to kidnap my family. I thought you taught him better Princess Iron Fan.”
Wukong glanced at her, making her frown more but glanced at her beloved child seeing Wukong’s hand on his cheek. Pigsy was growling angrily at this watching this scene unfold including the others. Macaque snarled softly at Wukong with a stare that made the King blush softly and lean close to his mate.
“I’m sorry my precious Moonlight. I’m not hurting your nephew, promise.” He said gently nuzzling his cheek against Macaque. “Anyways! I just came here to return your child brother!”
Wukong smiled, throwing the teen to the ground in front of them. Demon Bull King, Princess Iron Fan and Macaque gasp seeing Red Son groan in pain and lay there. Macaque sadly looks at them, not wanting to cause any more problems for his beloved sister. Wukong watched them and put his arms behind his back, his expression becoming serious again.
“I’m only going to say this once so listen.” He said glaring at everyone. “Don’t try to do anything stupid again. Leave MY FAMILY alone. I’m being nice since my Moonlight and Mk both hold you all dearly, which I hate but can’t change.” He snarled but sighed.
“Either way, don’t try again or I won’t be nice again. Okay byeee.”
Wukong calmly placed his hand on Macaque’s back, guiding him back to the open portal till he stopped when he heard a foot stomp.
“You damn ape!” Princess Iron Fan said standing up tall. “I will save my brother and that child.” She hisses looking at Wukong, whose eyes were glowing angrily. “Gongzhu.” Macaque said in a worried/warning tone holding onto Wukong’s arm.
“And we aren’t going to stop either!” Mei glared at the King as well, holding her sword. “We’re going to save Mk too!”
Wukong looked at them with a faceless expression blinking at the people/demons that dare to go against his words. Macaque stared at him worriedly and jumped when he started laughing softly. The others frowning while he continues to laugh and sighed heavily to glance up at them with a dark expression.
“Then I wish you all luck because you’ll need it.” Wukong said darkly, guiding Macaque inside the portal and leaving Thunderclap Mountain.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 1 year
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Hey! I've been trying to dig for some new way of water fics, and I found some on your account but... I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a Jake sully x daughter reader. Because when he was "what's wrong baby girl" I internally melted and I would love it if you would make me melt with a fic plssss
Home Sick
[Daughter Reader with parents Neytiri and Jake Sully!]
[Warnings: Like, none?]
[AN: There are spoilers for Way of Water in here!!
Man I'm glad someone else enjoyed that too. When I saw it in theatres, my heart MELTED at how paternal Jake was to his girls. It genuinely made me so happy. Love to see it. Headcanons for now but I might revisit this and make something more in depth!!]
[Reblogs are appreciated!]
Alright some context here you are a born Na'vi but you're adopted as well. Your parents were hunters in the Omaticaya clan and were unfortunately killed while out providing for the clan. Jake and Neytiri, who were very close to your parents, took you at a very young age. I'm putting you around the same age as Kiri.
In general, you're very happy. Your parents adore you and so too do your sisters and brothers. I honestly feel you and Lo'ak are thick as thieves, but Kiri understands you in a way no one else does. Tuk loves to hang from your arms and swing around. Neteyam bears the responsibility of keeping you all out of trouble!! Which he cannot STAND at times but sigh, that's what you do when you're the eldest son. He loves you all though.
I don't want to talk about Spider. I will not.
Leaving the Omaticaya was the hardest thing your family had to do. You cannot count how many hours you're cried. And well, settling in with the Metkayina hasn't been easy. While Tsireya is very sweet and helpful, often ensuring you and your siblings feel safe and learn well, her brother and his friends are not on the same wavelength.
One late evening, you and your father finally have a chat. Your siblings are all out doing Great Mother knows what, and you're alone, tail swishing, ears bent back with tears in your big, yellow eyes.
Your father gently nods to your mother who frowns before gesturing for him to join you.
You run your fingers through the water and sigh.
"Is something on your mind?" He asks. His voice is soft and calming, like the rains that used to fall after a great storm. His hands gently run through your hair, beautiful braids that your mother and sisters worked on before you had left the Omaticaya.
"No," you answer curtly, tail sway9ing in frustration.
He raises a brow and cocks his head to the side. "Mmm, I don't recall an agitated tail being a sign of relaxation," he lightly chuckles. He knows that you're frustrated about the change and it's like, the first week of you guys being settled in. He sees you relent and frowns. "Baby girl, something you're not telling me?"
You finally look up at your father and readjust your position so you're sitting cross legged beside him. "I miss home," you say plainly, not wanting your voice to crack.
Wordlessly, he takes you into his side, wrapping you up in his strong arms and rests his head atop yours. "I miss it too." Everyone does.
He lets you cry into his side, his voice quite, willowy, as he holds you. He knows the move has been tough on you. His words are comforting.
Eventually, your mother comes on your other side and she and your father cradle you as if you were their small baby again. Your mother hums to you. She's loving and gentle, her touch not that of a warrior, but someone who truly adores you.
You cling to them. Your smaller hands grip at their forearms, their waists, burying deep into them. You can still smell the forest from your mother, how the nostalgic scent of the winds carry from your father's hair. They still smell like home though it is fading.
Your father presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes locking with your mother's. Their hearts have broken seeing you this hurt, and they're pained with the feeling their hearts will break again.
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fluentmoviequoter · 21 days
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Mini Me and Dogs
Requested Here! | Part 2 of Mini Me
Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!reader
Summary: The godfather of your twins (soldier) brings his friends and some dogs to visit you in the hospital. While everyone tries to make you shy, the dogs and your new friend help you out.
Warnings: softie Tim, fluff, Kojo!
Word Count: 1.3k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
Picture from Pinterest
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“Are you done?” you ask. “Boot and I would like to turn around now.”
“We’re not calling them Boot and Tiny Tim.” You move your head to glance at Tim, and he takes the opportunity to lean closer. “Besides, as the father of your children, I have every right to stare at you.”
“I miss soldier.”
Tim’s smile falls as he rolls his eyes, moving away from you to pick up your other baby.
“Sorry, Tim,” you whisper.
“He’s coming back,” Tim grumbles. “I’m not going to be able to get a moment of peace with him as the godfather, am I?”
“Nope,” Angela says as she and Wesley walk into the room. “But, if you need a babysitter to escape from him, you know where to find me.”
“Right, because we don’t have our own kids to take care of,” Wesley adds, smiling at you.
“Knock, knock,” your favorite nurse and new friend calls. “You’ve got a couple of good-looking soldiers waiting down the hall. You want me to send them in or can I keep one for myself?”
You smile at her teasing before nodding. “They can come in. But I’m not sure they’re in your league.”
“Oh, hun, you flatter me. But your mom brain is already activated. Have you seen those gentlemen?”
“What is this?” Tim asks Angela.
“You’re jealous, Timothy,” she answers. “Soldier and all of his good-looking friends intimidate you, right?”
“No!”
“Good job, Tim,” Wesley interjects. “Very non-jealous answer.”
“How did I go from the one who teases my wife to the one being tortured by everyone in the room? Including my kids!” Tim exclaims.
“They like me more,” you say quietly, your attention back on the baby in your arms.
“That part I understand,” Tim replies. “It’s everything else.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“If you think this will make me stop, you’re wrong.”
Your shoulders fall as you sigh, wildly in love with Tim but still affected by every word and look he sends you.
“Hey, I brought you a surprise,” soldier says as he’s escorted to the room.
“I’m not playing another Disney song for you, I don’t think mama’s heart can take it,” your nurse says.
“No, this isn’t that good. Are you ready?”
You nod slowly, hoping that his surprise is good and not what he and Tim consider good surprises, which are usually more entertaining for them than you. When he drops an arm, you raise in the bed to look at him. A leash hits the floor, and Kojo runs into the room, sliding to a stop beside you. He tilts his snout and sniffs the baby in your arms before raising a paw.
You don’t have time to do anything before the nurse taps the foot of the bed. Kojo immediately hops up, lying beside your legs and pressing his nose to the blanket wrapped around Boot.
“Hey, buddy,” you greet, moving a hand to pat his head. “You’re such a good boy.”
You don’t see it, but Tim sends a grateful smile and nod to soldier, thanking him for thinking of Kojo and how much you love him. Kojo was by your side throughout your pregnancy, cuddling you, whining when you did too much, and keeping his head on your bump as it grew. Tim has never been so happy as when he sees Kojo in the bed with you and one of his sons.
“One more surprise?” soldier asks.
“Can I handle it?” you ask quietly.
 “Who cares?” Angela asks happily. “Do it, soldier.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies playfully before stepping to the side.
You hear a few excited footsteps before another dog joins Kojo on the bed. Adorned in his military K-9 harness, soldier’s dog wags his tail as he sniffs your hand and Boot’s blanket. Boot coos, and across the room, Tiny Tim wiggles in Tim’s grasp.
“Is it too late to return them?” Tim asks as he walks to your side.
Soldier’s dog glances up quickly, alert at the sudden movement. When he sees Tim and another baby, he relaxes, wagging his tail as he stretches to nudge his nose against Tiny Tim’s side.
“Last one, I promise,” soldier says as he steps inside.
Two of his military friends you’ve come to know over the years follow him inside, smiling as they congratulate you on two beautiful boys. They set a gift bag on the table by your bed, and you thank them softly.
“May I?” soldier asks, reaching for Boot.
“Careful,” Tim warns.
“I know,” soldier answers, cradling Boot against his chest as he introduces him to his friends.
Soldier’s dog moves closer to you now that you’re not holding a baby, sniffing you all over as you laugh. He lays his head on your chest, grunting when anyone moves. Kojo follows him, laying his head on your stomach and rubbing his chin against your hospital gown.
“Well, Tim, it seems you really have been replaced,” Wesley jokes. “Another man holding your baby, two strong guys protecting your wife while she heals. What does she need you for?”
“To have the babies,” you say under your breath.
Tim smiles, close enough to hear you. “And to make you shy,” he adds.
You hum, and Angela laughs. She checks her phone when it chimes, showing Tim a message before they both look up at you.
“What?” you ask, tucking your head toward one shoulder at their undivided attention.
Kojo huffs as Tim sets Tiny Tim back in the crib. You smile, glad to know that Kojo already loves the twins.
“Everything going okay in here?” your nurse asks.
Your eyes are still on Tim and Angela, so you don’t answer. Angela nudges Tim, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he steps toward you. Soldier’s dog lowers his snout, prepared to defend you if necessary; he perks his ears, listening to your breathing change as you grow worried and shy.
“Tim,” you beg, “just tell me.”
“My extra time off got approved,” he answers.
You take a deep breath, and soldier’s dog stands to sniff your chest and throat, looking for any sign of injury or unknown threat.
“It’s okay,” soldier calls. “Lay down.”
“Why do you do this to me? After everything I’ve done to give you those perfect babies,” you murmur.
“Speaking of those perfect babies,” your nurse interjects. “You have been cleared to take them home.”
She walks closer to your bed, smiling at one of soldier’s friends. After she explains what you should do after you get home for yourself and your boys, you sigh.
“Have any tips for dealing with him?” you whisper, pointing to Tim as he talks to soldier.
“Don’t let him get away with so much,” she answers, as if it’s that easy.
“Yeah, she can’t do that,” Angela interjects. “She’s shy and he takes advantage of it. Considering the fact that they’re married and have babies, though, I’m not convinced she really minds.”
“Here is my number,” your nurse says, passing you a piece of paper. “I’d be happy to date one of those guys over there and keep your husband in line.”
“I knew I liked you,” Angela says.
“At least you two know how to be nice to me and the boys,” you whisper to the dogs beside you.
“She married Tim for Kojo,” Angela tells your nurse.
“Whoa,” Tim calls, turning toward you with both twins in his hold. “You’re still not funny.”
“She’s hysterical,” Wesley replies, smiling when Angela points to him.
“Soldier?” you ask. “Can I keep your dog?”
“No. But I’ll bring him by more often. Since he likes you more than me.”
“Welcome to my world,” Tim replies, looking into your eyes as he repeats your earlier sentiment.
“It’s discharge time, Mr. Bradford,” your nurse interrupts, winking at you. “Sorry, folks, but that means unless you’re mom or dad, it’s time to go.”
Kojo whines when soldier clips his leash on, refusing to leave your side. Tim takes the leash, calling Kojo. He stands slowly, keeping his head down as he obeys as slowly and sadly as possible.
“We’ll be home soon, Kojo. You can choose some new nicknames, bud,” Tim tells him.
“I’ll drop him by your place and make sure everything’s set up for you,” soldier offers.
“And we filled up your pantry and fridge this morning,” Wesley adds as he steers Angela toward the door. “Congratulations again.”
Once the room is empty except for your husband and babies, you lean against the pillow behind you.
“Am I going to have to carry you out, too?” Tim asks, running his fingers over your collarbone and up your neck.
“Would you?”
Tim smiles, leaning closer to you. “You know I will, gorgeous.”
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bumblesimagines · 1 year
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Imagine:
Being introduce to Neytiri
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Request: Yes or No
Can't wait to see my tall alien wife again
~~~
"I should've listened to mom when she told me to be a lawyer." You muttered as you followed Grace and Jake through the dense jungle.
"You wouldn't be having nearly as much fun as a lawyer!" Jake called back with a chuckle. Grace grinned at his response. "Besides, aren't you always saying you aren't a people person?"
"Precisely why I said I didn't want to come along. I'm an animal person, a plant person. You can ask Aunt Grace. People have never been my domain." You could feel your tail, or rather, your avatars tail lashing behind you.
"Yes, I know." Grace sighed and stopped, turning to look at you with a softened gaze. "And it's exactly why I wanted you to come along. The Na'vi love the same things you do. It'll be easier for you to talk to them."
"And who'll be able to tell you more about the wildlife here? The locals or some scientist's assumptions?" Jake questioned with a small grin.
Before you could respond, the sound of rustling came from up ahead and out from the brush emerged a Na'vi woman. You recognized her from Grace's pictures. She'd been the one Jake befriended on his surprise journey.
"Who is this?" Neytiri asked, eyeing you. Her stance was alert and her tail twitched behind her, curiously inspecting you from head to toe.
"This is the son of my sister." Grace replied, placing a hand on your back and gently pushing you forward.
"(Y/N)?" Your name sounded weird coming from her. You'd only heard about her through the stories Grace and Jake told, but to have her standing before you and saying your name..
"Yeah, you must be Neytiri. Nice to meet you." You forced your lips into a smile and Neytiri hummed, an amused grin appearing on her face. You didn't miss the way Grace and Jake glanced at each other knowingly.
"Uhm-"
"(Y/N) wants to learn about the wildlife here, and so I thought; who better to teach him than Neytiri?" Neytiri sent Jake an annoyed look for offering her up without her approval, but to your surprise, she nodded.
"Tell me what you already know, (Y/N)."
Gifs aren't mine.
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Text
White Christmas- Dieter Bravo x f!reader- a 12 Days of Pedro Story
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Main Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | 12 Days of Pedro Masterlist
Prompt: holiday getaway
Summary: You and Dieter decide to escape the push and pull of your families for the holiday.
Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+
Word Count: 4.3k
Author's Note: this is my contribution to @hellishjoel 12 Days of Pedro!
I love this little trash panda and I am always itching to write more for him. shoutout to @wannab-urs and @catchallfangirl for beta reading for me! i love you both so much!
Warnings: oral sex f receiving, unprotected PIV, tummy riding, cumshot, cum eating, inappropriate use of a santa hat, bad family dynamics, face sitting, reader is comfortable wearing lingerie but is otherwise undescribed. I think that's everything. please let me know if I missed something and I will gladly add it!
Immersability: reader is able-bodied
“Goddamnit!” Dieter exclaims when his phone lights up, for what feels like the hundredth time today.
“Your mom again?” you ask. He snorts out a response just as his phone begins to ring again. He tosses the phone over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands. He presses the heel of his palms into his eyes and rubs them back and forth, letting out a deep, weary sigh.
“She just won’t fucking give up.” he groans. His mother had been calling non-stop for the last week. Wanting Dieter to come home for the holidays, for some reason. She had never been very interested in Dieter’s life. She had dropped him off at his grandmother’s house for a girls night out when he was six and hadn’t returned for seven years. By the time she came back, Dieter was in seventh grade, a foot taller and barely remembered her. She also had two kids in tow. She was home for a year that time, her longest stretch, before she inevitably left again. She tried to slide back into the role of mother as if she hadn’t pretended he didn’t exist for more than half of his life. She pretended to take an interest in his schooling, especially once she met the father of Dieter’s best friend. The part that hurt the most, though, was when she left again, she took his brother and sister with her, leaving Dieter with his abuelita once again. 
That woman had never had a kind word to say to Dieter in the eight years you’ve been together. According to him, she hadn’t said many before then, either. When Dieter moved to New York to pursue a career in theater, she told him not to get his hopes up. “Only the really special ones make it in that business, baby.” she said, patting his cheek condescendingly. When Abuelita died, she didn’t have a will, so Sofia got the house and Dieter got a warning that he wouldn’t be able to come running home with his tail tucked between his legs if his “little adventure” didn’t work out. It only got worse when he decided to move out to Los Angeles to pursue acting. She’s never believed in him, not for a second of his life. “You’re just like your father. Full of these hopes and dreams that’ll never amount to anything.” she had scoffed. Not that Dieter would know, he’d never met his father. He wasn’t listed on his birth certificate and Sofia only ever referred to him as “that man.” Of course, once Dieter’s career started taking off and his movies started generating buzz, she suddenly became a lot more interested in her son’s life again. 
She’s on her fourth or fifth husband these days, neither of you can ever remember. Her collection of various children who don’t know their eldest sibling, have no problem coming to him with their hands out, a trait they learned from their mother. He always gives in, because the alternative is having to listen to endless lectures about how ungrateful he is, and how much he “owes her for raising him.” That’s the only reason she wants him to come, really. So that he can lavish them with expensive gifts. The only reason Dieter even bothers to indulge every few years is because he is fiercely devoted to his nieces and nephews. The kids love to climb in his lap and wrestle on the ground. He plays football on the yard with the boys, and princesses with the girls. Whenever he comes home from a visit you can be sure it will be with a new manicure. He still sends gifts to the kids even when he doesn’t go home. This year, everyone is getting a new iPad. 
Not that your family is any less dysfunctional or treats you any better. Nice, boring house in a nice, boring suburb. Obligatory white picket and three-a-day Xanax addiction included. Your parents’ barely concealed disdain for each other and resentment towards the children who prevented them from living their dreams, didn’t stop them from pressuring you to join them for every family function. They have to keep up the perfect, All-American family image. The guilt-trip phone calls every holiday were even worse if you decided to spend the previous holiday with Dieter’s family. She’s been hounding you this week as well, wondering what the neighbors will think when they notice that another year has gone by without an appearance from yours truly. It always causes tension between you and Dieter, too. Neither of you wanting to put up with your families, but also not exactly thrilled to put up with the other’s family either. You don’t even bother to decorate the house for the season anymore. The push and pull from your respective families all but guaranteeing that neither of you will be home to enjoy it. 
When Dieter’s ringtone starts playing again, this time from the kitchen floor, you pick it up and take a look at the broken screen. Sofia, again. You roll your eyes and silence the call. You power it off and shove it into your pocket and walk to where Dieter stands leaning forward, his hands braced on the counter. You stand behind him and rest your head on his bare back, between his broad shoulders. You snake your hands under his arms and up his chest. You grip his pecs and press a soft kiss to his skin, between his shoulder blades. He shivers under your touch but you can feel the tension start to ease from his body.
An idea strikes you then. “Hey, Dee. I have an idea, baby.” He reaches up and rests his hands over your own.
“I’ve got a few ideas of my own, sweetheart.” You don’t need to see his face to see the lopsided smirk his mouth is turned up in, or the mischief glinting in his eyes.
“Not that, cabron ” you chuckle, planting another kiss to his skin. He releases your hands and turns to face you.
“What’s your big idea, baby?” he asks. He caresses your cheek with his thumb, his other fingers rest under your jaw, reaching towards the back of your neck.
“Let’s just get out of here. Let’s forget all the family drama and take a vacation.” He tilts his head at the suggestion and you can see his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he mulls over the suggestion.
“Sounds like a plan. I just have one requirement.” You cock your eyebrow curiously.
“What’s that?” you ask.
“I want to go somewhere warm. Somewhere you can wear that teeny bikini I bought you this summer.” 
After much deliberation, you and Dieter ended up choosing Barbados for your Destination Christmas. Three thousand hours of sunshine annually, and thousands of miles away from either of your families. You decide two weeks should be long enough for the heat to die down. Why some people lose their minds around the holidays, you’ll never understand. You decide to do some pre vacation shopping, even though you don’t subscribe to the Norman Rockwell version of Christmas, you still live in America. The consumerism and materialism capital of the world. So you still need to find a present for Dee. But what do you buy for the man who can afford anything he wants? The man whose lack of impulse control ensures that he does? Something in the window of a store catches your eye and you step into the boutique. Twenty minutes and one swipe of Dee’s credit card later, you and your little black bag head for the record store. You find the perfect gift for him there. A vintage t-shirt of one of his favorite bands, The Replacements. From their 1990 tour at the Palladium, right before Paul Westerberg left the band for good. 
Thankfully you get home from your shopping trip before Dee gets home from his. You take the time to carefully wrap the shirt and stuff it to the bottom of your suitcase, next to your other purchase. You quickly shove your clothes on top, hiding the surprises, just as you hear Dee come in the front door. When he appears in the bedroom he walks straight to your dresser and opens the top drawer. You huff out a laugh when he dangles the tiny black triangles connected by thin string in front of your face.
“You forgot something, baby.” he says with a sly smile. You snatch the bikini from his grasp and drop it on top of the rest of your clothes.
“You should really start packing, Dee. Our flight is early.” you tell him. He lands a swat on your ass before he walks to the closet and digs out his own suitcase. 
He groans in your ear when the alarm goes off at 3:30 the next morning, his naked body pressed against yours. “Why did you have to book such an early flight, my love?” He tightens his arms around you when you move to rise from the bed.
“Dee, we have to go!” you squeal with laughter as he gently kisses the back of your neck. “Our flight is at 6:00. There’s a six hour layover in New York. Come on, lazy bones, get up.” you try once more to wrench yourself free from his grasp, but he just holds you even tighter.
“Gimme a kiss, first.” he whines. You turn in his arms and slot your lips between his. He slides his tongue into your mouth and you can feel his cock twitch against your bare thigh. You feel the heat emanating from your core at the mere thought of him sliding it inside of you. Lazy, sleepy morning sex is a fan favorite in your house. But you have a flight to catch.
“Come on, big boy. There’ll be plenty of time for all this once we get to the resort.’ you assure him. You give him a smack on the ass and push him out of the bed. 
Fifteen hours and two flights later, you finally arrive in Bridgetown. It’s the middle of the night so you have no trouble getting a taxi. They are all parked in a line outside the terminal. Dee falls asleep on the twenty minute ride to the resort, but you stay awake, watching the ocean whiz by. The salt from the sea permeates the air, even through the windows of the taxi. Even in your exhausted state, you already feel all the stress from the holiday season sleeping away from you. All the pressure to be with people you don’t really like, who don’t really like you. Just you and your guy, on a beach for two weeks. Toes in the sand, drinks in your hand. Nothing to worry about except what restaurant to go to, what shop to hit up. You gently nudge Dieter awake when you arrive at the resort. The taxi driver brings all of your bags into the lobby of the hotel and Dieter pulls a hundred dollar bill out of his wallet.
“Thanks, man. Drive safe.” he says to the man, still wiping the sleep from his eyes. You’d think for someone who travels so often he’d be more used to this. Sometimes, he reminds you of a fully grown toddler. While you give the man at the desk all of your check in information, a bellhop loads all of your luggage onto a gold rolling cart. And by ‘all of your luggage’ you mean your one suitcase and carry on, and Dieter’s three suitcases and two duffel bags. How this man could pack so much truly baffles you. All he ever wears is pajamas, or nothing. It makes you wonder what else he might be hiding in those bags. Maybe he did a little Christmas shopping of his own, you think. Once you get settled into your penthouse suite you send the obligatory “we’ve arrived safely texts. Then you turn off both of your phones and slip into bed. Dieter falls asleep immediately, snuggled into your side. His soft snores lull you to sleep after only a few minutes. 
You and Dieter spend the next seven days staying up late, sleeping in and having the laziest hungover sex anyone ever had. You spend your days on the beach, laying in the sun. Dieter naps and you read. Your evenings are spent at a different restaurant every night. None of the bullshit the resort serves. If you wanted to eat chicken parmesan you could have just stayed home. You ask the locals what their favorite restaurants are and their favorite dishes. You eat fish cakes, chicken feet, guava cheese and salt bread. You indulge in all of the local delicacies. Then, you spend a few hours at the resort bar, knocking back drink after drink. You stumble into your room and eat junk food and watch shitty horror movies. You talk for hours, content to do nothing more than just be together. Every other day you turn your phones on for 15 minutes. You respond to texts and Dieter returns calls and emails from his agent and his publicist. Then, they go right back off and are stuffed into the drawer of your bedside table. You can’t remember the last time either of you were this unplugged from the world. You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to go back to your real life. When Dee has to go back to his rigorous filming schedule and you have to return to your own work. You don’t want to waste a single second of this uninterrupted time with him. 
When Christmas day rolls around, you and Dieter opt to stay in your room the whole day. Most shops and restaurants were closed for the day anyway. You wake late in the afternoon and decide to take a shower while Dee is still sleeping. You peek over at him before you dig your surprise for him out of its hiding place in your suitcase. You slip quietly into the bathroom and turn the shower as hot as it will go. You take your time in the shower, carefully washing your hair, slowly soaping your whole body. When you step out of the shower you pause and listen, trying to figure out if Dieter is awake. When you hear nothing, you continue with your post shower ritual. You grab two of the resort towels off of the rack, probably the fluffiest towels you’ve ever felt, and wrap one around your body and the other around your head. You move to the vanity where your toiletry bag sits and grab your moisturizer. You apply a thin layer and while it soaks in, you finally open the little black bag you had bought on your shopping trip. You remove the barely there panties, red with a little white trimmed skirt. It came with a matching cut out bra, if it could be called that. It took you three tries to get the red satin triangles positioned just right. Finally, you pull out the cherry on top, so to speak. Pasties with red satin bows. Once you’ve wrapped yourself in the expensive lingerie, you tie the terry cloth robe tightly around your waist, lest the surprise be ruined. You give yourself a final once over in the mirror and pull the door open. 
Dieter is awake. He’s sitting against the headboard with his arms folded behind his head. Seems like he had a similar idea as yours. He cock stands proudly at attention, and it's wearing a little Santa hat. A noise of surprise escapes your mouth and you can tell by the look on Dee’s face, he got the response he was hoping for.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” he drawls, voice still gravelly from sleep.
“Funny,” you say, “I got a present for you to unwrap, too.” Dieter raises an eyebrow in curious interest.
“Oh yeah?” he asks.
“Why don’t you come over here and let me open you up?” He scoots down to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs wide. You saunter over to him, letting the tension build between you, keeping your hand tight over the knot of your robe. Once you’re standing between his thighs, he grips both of your hands in one of his large ones. He presses a soft kiss to them and drops them down at your side. He unties the knot at your waist and lets your robe fall open. His breath hitches in his throat when the terry cloth falls down your shoulders, offering him a peek of your exposed skin. He reaches up and shoves the fabric the rest of the way off. “Holy shit, baby. Is all this for me?” he asks, trailing a finger down the center of your chest, between the swell of your breasts. He rests his head against the softness of your stomach, his breath causing your body to light up with desire. You thread your fingers through the curls at the crown of his head and pull him closer still. “Merry Christmas to me.” he whispers, lightly licking just under your belly button. A shiver courses through your veins and you give his hair a slight tug. He moans against you at the sensation and reaches up to cup your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart and drags one of his fingers between them, until it comes to rest at your clothed core. The fabric is already wet and warm with your desire. 
Dieter slips his finger under your panties and swipes it through your folds. He gently nips at the same spot he was just licking. “Fuck, Dee.” you groan out into the air, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings right back into your ears. Dieter growls against your skin and removes his hand from your panties.
“Get over here.” he says wickedly and pulls you into his lap. You wrap your legs around his waist and start to settle in. “Nuh-huh.” he protests. He lays back on the bed and grips your ass tightly. When he pulls you forward onto his belly, you figure out what he’s after. But before you give in, you decide to take something you want from him first. You plant your hands on his chest and your clothed cunt on the soft swell of his tummy. “What are you up to?” he asks, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“This,” you say as you grind down on him, “is my favorite part of your body.” You can feel his happy trail through your soaked panties, the coarse hair there providing you with the friction you need so badly. His hands move to your hips and he pulls you even further onto his stomach. You work your hips up and down, back and forth. You can feel the soft trim on his Santa hat bobbing against your ass. You can see the muscles of his throat work as he swallows. His jaw tenses and he moans loudly.
“Fuck yes, baby. Use me, mama . Take what you need.” he urges. Seeing how turned on he is by this sends you over the edge.
“Dee,” you pant. “I’m so close.” He stills your hips and when you protest, he responds ,
“On my mouth, baby. I need it. Need to taste you.” he practically begs. You slide your panties down, lifting one leg at a time until you can slip them off. You shuffle up the bed on your knees, dragging your bare, dripping pussy across his abdomen and chest. You hover over his face and he wraps his arms around your thighs. He pulls you down to his mouth, the scruff on his cheeks scrapes the inside of your thighs, but you relish the burn. He flicks the tip of his tongue lightly, but quickly, across your clit. The motion turns your bones into jelly and you fall forward, catching yourself on the mattress. You’re already so worked up that it only takes a few expert swipes of his tongue before you are falling apart all over him. He pulls you even tighter to his mouth as he works you through with his tongue. 
Once the aftershocks have passed, Dieter lifts you from his mouth and wiggles out from under you. He rises from the bed and stands at the foot of it. You are still on your knees with your hands planted on the mattress. Dee grips your hips and pulls you backwards towards him. You let out a yelp in surprise and he chuckles. “I can’t wait anymore, baby. I need to be inside you right fucking now.” he says, removing one hand. You see something fly over your head. The miniature Santa hat lands on the pillow in front of you. “Ready for me?” he asks. You barely begin to nod as you feel him press the head of his cock against your warm, wet cunt.
“ Fuck , Dee. Yes, papi .” you reply. He enters you slowly, but steadily, until your still sensitive walls fully engulf him. He lets out a low hiss when his hips meet the soft curves off your ass. Your hands fist the sheets when he starts thrusting. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, leaving just the tip inside of you, and buries himself to the hilt with every stroke. He fills you up completely every time, completely wrecking you. You wouldn't be surprised to get a noise complaint from resort staff with the way you scream for him. The animalistic growls he makes reverberate in your ears, and soon his pace begins to falter. He pumps once, twice, three times before he quickly pulls out of you. The front half of your body falls flat on the bed, your ass still sticking up. You feel the warm spurts of his come hit the cheeks of your ass. He grunts as he strokes himself and paints your skin with his spend. When he’s finished, he admires his handiwork.
“Looks like we ended up with a white Christmas after all, huh?” he laughs. You groan at his idiotic, but typically Dieter remark and lower your legs to the floor. You stand and try to hurry into the bathroom to clean up but Dieter stops you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with your own. He grabs the meat of your ass, not caring that it's still sticky with his come. When he releases your mouth, he brings his fingers to it. His eyes light up when you take two fingers into your mouth, down to the knuckle, and suck them clean. You wink at him and walk into the bathroom, feeling his eyes on you every second of the way.  
Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you remove the expensive lingerie and put on your favorite pair of leggings and one of Dieter’s t-shirts. Dee has dressed himself as well, kinda, he never leaves home without his ratty, sage green bathrobe. He’s sitting on the suite’s couch, scrolling Netflix for something to watch. You pause to rifle through your suitcase, pulling out the black plastic bag from the record store. You stuff it in your armpit and join him on the couch. Dieter pulls you in close to his cheat and kisses you on the forehead. “Thank you for my present. You looked so fucking hot like that.” he eyes you up and down. “You always look so sexy.”
You pull the bag out from under your arm. “I did get you a real present, ya know?” you shove the bag into his hands. His face lights up before he even opens the bag. When he pulls the shirt out and shakes the wrinkles from it, tears spring to the corners of his eyes.
“You remembered.” he whispers. Dieter had mentioned the show to you on your first date.
“If you could go back to any point in your life and relive it, when would it be?” you had asked.
“The last time I saw The Replacements live.” he responded with no hesitation. “I’d go back and watch it sober, revel in the finality of the moment instead of being too fucked up to even remember it the next day.” he slips his arms out of his robe and pulls the shirt on over his head. He lands a soft, but deep, kiss on your lips. “I love it, mamita. ” he says. His hand disappears into the comically large pocket of his robe. “I got a little something here for you, too.” he says. He opens his hand and a small velvet box rests in the palm. Your eyes flicker from his to the box, and back again.
“Dee, what is this?” you ask. You and Dieter had decided years ago that you didn’t need to get married. Nothing about a wedding or a marriage certificate would add anything to what you already share together. With Dieter’s notoriety, any ceremony you had would be a dog and pony show, a media zoo. He pushes the box into your hand and you open it. There’s a small gold, heart shaped charm inside. It matches the others on the anklet Dieter got you for your third anniversary. There’s a capital “D” in script font on one side. You roll your eyes when you turn it over and get a look at the other side. Engraved in the gold is an eggplant emoji.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” he says. You close the box and set it on the coffee table. You snuggle up under his armpit and he tightens his arm around your shoulder.
“Thank you, Dee. I love it.” you say, snatching the remote from his hand. You scroll through a few titles before finally settling on one.
“Scandal again?” Dieter pouts. You ignore him and press play. Your time here in your perfect little bubble is running out. Soon enough you’ll be back to L.A. and Dieter will be off to Germany for his new movie. You plan on soaking up every second of bliss you can get out this vacation. 
taglist: @planet-marz1 @rhoorl  @nerdieforpedro @hyzer34@littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaurur @joeldjarinff @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi@disassociation-daydreams @inept-the-magnificent @elegantduckturtle @magpiepills@cherubispunk @milly-louise @party-hearses @megamindsecretlair @survivingandenduring @Darkheartgatita @mysterious-moonstruck-musings 
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shinjisdone · 5 months
Text
Ticking Springs
(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)
Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ
capitolo uno
capitolo due
capitolo tre
capitolo quattro
capitolo cinque
capitolo sei: is here
Capitolo sette
Capitolo otto
Capitolo nove
It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.
Tag List:
@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites
TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so) and so im gonna end up using the uh same ones prbly
[TW for this one specifically include: Demeaning uncle Geppetto, mentions of grief, signs of overworking mentioned, blood, wounds and crying, anxiety, puppet going aray]
[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]
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The wrench bent on contact with the floor.
It was mere and old wood but the throw was aggressive enough to leave the tool useless. It was one of many. One he could easily snatch from the Workshop Union from.
Damn these halfwits.
He was not expecting a call from them. They were just as naive and cocky as the Workshop Union, and their glorious, genius breakthroughs.
With a grunt he picked up the tool before carelessly throwing it into a metal bucket. One on the far right corner and one far too familiar.
A heavy and frustrated sigh escaped him.
"Oh, son," Removing one glove, his fingers ran down his sweaty face, "It's always the same with them." Just as briskly as he sat down, Geppetto got up from the chair just as fast. His voice tired but still holding onto bitterness. "Stealing my time meant for you."
Brown eyes tiredly wandered up the motionless figure sitting on the blood-red armchair. The fabric untouched while surrounded by tools and oil, material that fell off shelves left on the floor. The pads were full and soft, so heavenly soft as it seemed - only the best for him even if he was not awake yet. Nevertheless, the sight irked him, from the unfinished touches of the skin up to the missing arm. It couldn't be any arm and so Geppetto had to wait and wait and wait for the material to be stocked again and again.
Progress was thriving at top speed but it didn't seem like that to him. All was too slow. Everybody was too tardy.
The flick of the light was fast but reluctant and as he looked outside, a scoff escaped him. Another long, long night but a dry one at that at least. Krat's cloudless nightsky the only relief he could feel.
Eyes mustered the nervous smile on your lips. Shoulders up to your ears and a little list in your hands - the man's hand absent-mindedly went to his mustache as he offered a smile to the lady before his eyes met yours again. With a nod, you were the next one in line.
The man rose his eyebrows and tilted his melon hat for a moment. You briefly scanned the list in your hands. "Baby blue fabric...made out of cotton, please?" "We certainly have that." Answered the man, "How long? Width and thickness?"
"Oh," You gave the measurements written on the paper and the clerk gestured you to follow. His other hand pointed on the hallway to the left. "Cherry." You turned your head as you tried to keep up, only to see a short puppet appear from the hallway, wearing the same melon hat as the man - only with a small ribbon at the side. Leading you to the back and taking out a roll of the cloth you requested, the man first showed it to you. 'Cherry' in the meantime rose its two hands, which consisted of a scissor and a measuring tape. Yet the clerk stopped it, before looking back to you. "I will let you know, young lady...100% cotton is expensive and we at Tailorshop Cherry never deliver anything other than superb quality."
He could see the hesitance in your face and took another roll of the wall. "60% cotton. Here, feel it." So you do, fingers gliding over the different fabric and as your eyes dart between the two rolls. The clerk eyed you with raised brows and it was almost like the puppet did, too.
You sucked in air. "...Perhaps 100% cotton would be better?" Making a face, the man sucked in air himself. "Can you even afford this, young lady?" He rolled the cloth up, "The measures you request for seem like that of an toddler. I've had...gentlemen pay the same sum to ask for their darlings hand."
"It's fine!"
"It is fine..." You repeated softer, "I am aware that this tailor is known for its quality...but I do know what I want." You pointed at the blue cloth. "This one would be just perfect."
The consequences were clear to you...but finances were the least of your worries. Your eyes throughouly stared at the roll, before looking up at the man and nodding your head firmly once more. Maybe you were too dead set on doing this and all of this might bite you later...it all depended on your uncle. Just musing about it made you deflate a bit. Perhaps it is the age, the stress, the work...but he has been more agitated since you last saw him - before your visit, before you moved here.
Or perhaps it was grief.
Eyes glanced to the side before looking back. "Well then, here you go." Feigning a smile, you took the package, one as big as your torso. You didn't like to think about it. "Cherry will stamp you a card. At the third purchase, 15% off!" It was too long ago. Or not, maybe even. "Thank you for purchasing from Tailorshop Cherry!" The puppet's hand brought out a stamp, punching a cherry-shaped hole on the pink card. It's voice softer and higher than that of the baker. You smiled and bowed before leaving.
Distracting oneself is easy. Either with your own life or with puppets.
A shaky gasp escaped you before the shrill echoes of inserructions neared. Your knees fell to the floor, the card long abandonded on the sullied ground as you clenched your hand to your chest with a high scream. The nearby customers congegrated around you but the salesman was quick to be the first one knelled at your side. Your ears felt about to burst - from the sounds of your crying to the panic of the people and the non-stop imploration of the man. The puppet seemed to speak, somewhere in the shop, for the first time since you entered.
"15% off!"
"15% off!"
"15% off!"
You cried and hissed as the shopkeep forcefully took your hand away from your grasp. Though he begged and begged to at least see, you were sure as hell from the pain that there was too much blood.
Somehow, somewhere feet scrambled and you heard sirens soon after. Before anyone could barge through the door, the man held you by the shoulders as he and others tried to stop the bleeding - begging and begging to not utter the name Tailorshop Cherry.
The sound of stomping in the air as well as revolted murmurs resounded still.
"15% off!"
The stitches and bandages were done with. A woman offered you a handkerchief to dry your tears. Though it was all awfully sweet, the mention of having been lucky that the puppet's clutches did not move any closer to your bone was one you immediately tried to force out of your head.
The card was left there on the shopfloor, its cherry pink color tainted red.
Jumping, you halted before your feet stepped on another pair. The door threw itself shut harsher and louder than anticipated and trying to save face, you quickly stepped to the side. Geppetto continued where he was left off - putting on his coat.
He glimpsed at you from the side, back hunched as he let one arm crawl into the sleeve as he did the other. You bit your lip and avoided his gaze before taking a step back. The wind picked up by the time you came back to the workshop and howled against the door. It creaked slightly.
The older man reached for his hat, "And where were you, young lady?" Finally he fully turned to you, though his eyes were still narrowed. "Out." You quickly but meekly let out and played with a loose wrapping end of the package. "As I told you, Uncle."
"I wasn't aware you'd be out this long." He looked for an umbrella, just in case, but kept his tone flat while speaking. "I don't like it when you are out for that long. Especially as such a young girl as yourself."
"I," You licked your lips after the small stutter, "I wanted to get back by dinner." "Dinner." Geppetto sighed, "Oh. Right, dinner." His hectic movements halted; before he began to button up his coat calmly. Eyes scanned the hallway and turned to you. "Be a dear and order food. Sandwiches or, or pasta. No, actually get something that can be eaten cold." You took a step closer, "Won't you have a bite before you leave? It's late and I am sure you're hungry. Besides, the weather's getting awful."
"The better it is that I leave now." Taking a small, old umbrella he finally found, Geppetto opened the door and took a step outside - but not before looking at you. "Order some food, dear, I'll be sure to enjoy it after I come back. And..." Brown eyes narrowed as he slightly leaned closer. The man scrunched up his nose.
"What happened to you, (Name)?" His eyes flickered to your limp hand. You mimicked his movements but tried to hide the bandaged hand under the parcel anyway.
"...Uncle, today afternoon..."
"Ah, you are fine though now, aren't you?" Geppetto failed to see the frown on your face the moment he mentioned the injury. Instead, he patted his collar down. "We'll talk about this later but this is what happens to children staying out after dark. You don't see how you get hurt."
Again, you tried to gather courage to speak your mind, just a word, a mere objection to his ridicilous and childish assumptions-
"...Go to bed early, (Name). You already have a few dark circles under your eyes, unbecoming of a young lady."
The door was shut close. A strong gale blew into the workshop briefly, leaving a shudder down your spine.
The frown stayed on your face. Still, the parcel had to be stored into your room sooner or later, and it was best done sooner judging from your uncle's mood. Adjusting your grip, as it started to slip out of your clutch, you slowly went up the stairs while having a hard time taking your eyes off the door.
Eyes stayed trained on the needle and the fabric, as well as your fingers, as the sewing machine diligently worked away. Although you held both machinery and fabric rather awkwardly with the side of your hand, the sure progress melted your sadness away, bit by bit.
Your wallet may have not suffered today for you got the fabric graciously for free, but your limb surely did.
The puppet did not really puncture your thumb, the emergency responder said. Still, the injury was deep enough to be treated with stitches and bandages...and a few painkillers, possibly. It kept you on wiping your tears.
The mechanical cadence would stop as you shift and lay the fabric in different directions, cut off unneeded material while avoiding to accidentally stab out your own eyes with the scissor whenever you rubbed them. The experience today was scary enough but despite it, you did not want to stop now.
Forcing yourself to take one more sip of your drink, you cleared your throat. Eyelids feeling heavier.
A puppet wasn't supposed to do that.
No puppet was ever meant to harm another, human or mechanical fellow alike. Even if it was a mere accident - this 'Cherry' should have sensed your flesh being too close to its brackets and it not having targeted the card correctly.
On top of that, echoing its master's words like a madman if you recalled right.
Uncle Geppetto had to know. Even if he would still be too busy to listen, you'd have to let him know.
"...I know you..."
You frowned as the machine begun again. Your voice barely reached the same volume as this old thing...neither did your sniffles.
"...I don't feeling like singing that one." Mumbles reaching no one but yourself. Once again, you sniffled and cleared your throat, focusing on the task at hand.
"...When you wish upon a star..."
Lone words entered the lone room. Sitting up straighter made you feel more focused, more awake. Here, in the moment and aware that this trivial task meant change for you.
"...Makes no difference who you are..."
The machine continued flawlessly despite its age. You even found yourself singing while it conducted its own cadence, no matter if both tunes melodically weaved in together or not.
It was about the feeling. About the action.
It was about being heard even if your only audience was yourself.
Yet it was not. It never was.
"...Anything your heart desires..."
Behind the many walls, down the turning and winding stairs and straight through the locked door, were sounds emitting and attempting to mimick your own.
The rattling was resounding from the underground and offering its own melody in hopes it will join and align with yours.
Though it sung in high and longing tunes when picking up the sound of your sniffles.
Naive, little thing that you were, you did not hear it over your own whimsical fantasies.
"...Will come to you..."
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pimosworld · 4 months
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Pairing- Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary- Javier gets a dog
CW- Angst,Fluff,lots of fluff, adopting a pet, shameless flirting, Chucho being adorable, Javi talking to a dog a lot.
WK-3k
A/N- This is my first time writing for Javi so be gentle. This wasn’t an ask but someone really wanted a Javi beagle fic and it spoke to me since I work at a pet hospital. Please enjoy this adorable one shot. This is for you @keylimebeag
Not beta read
My shelter
Life in Laredo was fine. 
  Javier had his father, his health, plenty of things to do around the ranch to keep him occupied. It was also a plus that he wasn’t being shot at everyday. 
  It was fine. 
  He tries not to seem ungrateful for his life, especially in front of his dad. He always worked so hard to provide for him and his mother. He was so proud, telling everyone in town his son was going to take down Pablo Escobar. 
  He didn't miss the way people treated him when he moved back home. He was not a celebrity, nothing special…just doing his job. At least that’s how he felt. Now everyday was the same, get up at the crack of dawn, feed the animals,have breakfast with his pops,do whatever project was assigned so that he could feel useful, have dinner and go to sleep. 
Sleep wasn’t usually easy to come by these days. 
  Rinse and repeat, day in and day out. 
  Tonight is going to be one of those sleepless nights. He’s been nervous  all day, smoking more than he’d care to admit. None of his daily tasks seemed to quell the oncoming anxiety. His dad is making dinner and even that is setting him on edge. The clinking of the plates, the scraping of the pan. 
  Chuchos has been treating him like a scared animal in a cage all day and he wants to tell him to lay off but he can’t. 
  “I think you need a companion.” 
  “What!”Javi looks up from his plate at his dad. 
  “Ms. Valencia said that could help with ptsd.” Chucho scrapes the remaining carnitas onto Javier’s plate even though he had said he was done. 
  “Listen pops, I don’t really need Ms. Valencia’s advice on ptsd or help finding a companion right now.” 
  Chucho sighs and looks down at his plate, moving the food around with his fork. “I mean…like a dog or something. I’m not trying to play matchmaker.” 
  Javier points toward the window. “I have plenty of animals to keep my company.” 
  His dad laughs, easing some of the tension of the conversation. “Well son they can’t come inside or go on walks. It was just an idea.” 
  “Thanks but I’ll be fine with the cows. You’ve been… spending a lot of time with Ms. Valencia.” 
  “Don’t change the subject Javier.” He stands to grab his plate but Javi ushers him to sit and heads to the sink to start the dishes. “Thanks for doing those son…I’m gonna head out, don’t wait up for me.” 
  Javi smirks as his dad throws on his coat and fixes his hair in the reflection of the toaster. 
  “You kids be safe.” Chucho waves him off before closing the back door. 
  ****
  After another long sleepless night, Javi decided to head into town. He was just going to the market to pick up a few things for dinner and stop by the hardware store for longer screws to fix the fence so the cows would stop getting out. 
  He’s driven by it dozens of times, somehow he’s never had a reason to go inside. He really shouldn’t go inside. He’ll never hear the end of it from Chucho. Laredo Animal Protective Society free adoptions. Maybe he’ll just go in and look. 
  There’s a few dogs playing in the small yard next to the building, all happily wagging their tails as they follow him along the fence. He can’t imagine how there's any dogs here at all with how cute they all look. He’s not even inside and he’s already a goner. 
  ****
  The bell chimes at the front door and you have to cease petting the senior cat October or Tobi for short. Despite it being free adoption day, you didn’t have very many customers so you’re excited to maybe help make a connection. It comes as a surprise when you enter the front lobby and see the last person you would expect to be at your job. 
  Javier Peña 
  Even with his back turned you can still make out that stance. He’s standing with his head cocked to the side as he reads the information board. 
  He hears you shuffle in and turns to greet you. His shy smile puts you at ease, knowing his reputation it was a relief to see him a little nervous. 
  “Welcome to LAPS, are you here for our free adoptions?” 
  Javi can see your mouth moving as you approach him, but he’s not entirely sure he heard a word you said. Your disarming smile and bubbly charm has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in quite some time. 
  Maybe his dad was right. 
  You’re patiently waiting for him to respond as he stands there dumbfounded. You don’t seem intimidated or annoyed by his presence as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. 
  “I’m ugh…not entirely sure what I’m looking for.” 
  “Well let’s start with something easy then. Are you a dog or cat person?” You turn towards the kennel doors hoping he gets the hint to follow you. 
�� “A little of both I guess, but I’m here for a dog.” Now that the words have left his mouth it starts to feel a little more real. 
  You clap your hands together and lead him into the doors on the right. “The dogs are this way, we try to keep them separate so the cats can relax.” You turn to him and smile again, he’s not sure how every single person that walks in here doesn’t leave with a pet if this is how you treat the customers. 
  You pass a few cages that are marked in various colors, he silently follows you as you explain what the colors mean. Some are already adopted and others are just boarding. A few of them are getting acclimated to the shelter or waiting for people to come get them because they’re just lost. He hasn’t really looked at any of them, too focused on the way your blue scrubs hug your curves. 
  At the end of the cages are some long runs, a beautiful German shepherd is in the first one. Jesse James is his name, he’s 4 years old and very excited as he puts his large paws on the front of the door. 
  “He’s a sweetheart, his owners couldn’t afford his knee surgery so they surrendered him to us. Unfortunately he needs another surgery so keep that in mind.” 
  Javi thinks he’s nice, but that’s a lot to take on. Plus he already has large animals to take care of.
  The second run has an elderly looking golden retriever Audrey is the name on the tag, you stop to open the door as she gingerly makes her way towards you wagging her tail. Your soft voice as you crouch down and greet her has his heart practically melting. Her face is golden and graying in some spots. 
  “She’s twelve…so I don’t know if  she’s a good fit for you.” You answer the silent question on cue as if you can read his mind. 
  “What’ll happen to her, if no one takes her.” The timber in his voice cracks slightly at the prospect. 
  You look up at him while Audrey enjoys your soft pets and see the heartbroken look in his eyes. 
  “Oh…this is a no kill shelter. If no one takes her she’ll just live out her life here with us.” You stand and close the door and she slinks back to her plush bed. “We have to do free adoptions occasionally when space gets limited.”
  The final run has no tag on the door. A small beagle comes to the front as you open the door. He looks young but not a puppy. You step aside and let Javi crouch down to greet him. Javi scratches him behind the ear and is rewarded with small licks to his face. 
  “Hi buddy, you want to come home with me.” He barks once and wags his tail and Javi has all but made his decision. 
  It’s adorable the way Javi coos at the small dog, you can’t help but look at the way his jeans stretch when he crouched down to say hi. His black shirt is taught over his muscular frame and a sliver of skin just barely shows as he leans forward. 
  “What’s his story?” He catches you checking him out briefly when he turns around. He’ll have to send some flowers with his pops to Ms. Valencia as a thank you. 
  “She was roaming the streets a few weeks ago. She’s past her waiting period for someone to claim her.” 
  “Oh so you’re a lady.” You chuckle at the way his voice changes as he properly addresses her. “Hola cariño, cómo te llamas?” 
  “She doesn’t have a name just yet.” She barks twice in his face and he lets out a hearty laugh. “She likes to bark, I hope you don’t mind.” 
  “No one out at the ranch will complain.” He says it mostly to himself as he’s all but confirmed that he won’t be going home empty handed. 
  ****
  “Well let’s get your paperwork sorted out.” He’s muttering half phrases to her in English and Spanish as she rolls over for him to rub her belly. “I promise she’ll be here when we’re done Javier.”
  It’s not just the way you say his name but the fact that he doesn’t remember even introducing himself. He looks up at you then and notices your name tag. The name is vaguely familiar but he knows he’d remember your face. 
  “Have we met before?” He asks as he stands and closes the run door. 
  You laugh as you make your way towards the front, knowing he’ll follow close behind. 
  “Yes Javier Peña we’ve met before.” 
  A slight panic falls over him as he tries to rack his brain for any memory of you. You’re grazing your fingers along the cages as you speak softly to the other animals. 
  “I’m sure I’d remember if we met.” That flirting tone that you knew to be the real Javier makes an appearance as you round the corner to the front desk. 
  “I won’t hold it against you. I was a few years under you and I guess you would call me a late bloomer, but I hate that term.” You nervously bite your lip as you slide him the paperwork for the adoption.
  He feels a little bad that he didn’t remember you. He had blinders on back then, only had eyes for one woman before he left for Colombia. He wants to ask you out for coffee, maybe even go to lunch. He’s still hesitant now having to approach women in a proper manner. When women practically throw themselves at you it’s hard to remember how to court someone. 
  You gasp and skip to the back before he has a chance. You return with an arm full of stuff and set it on the counter. 
  “We just had some donations so you’re in luck Javier Peña.” He doesn’t normally like when people use his full name. It makes him feel old and official, but he loves the way it rolls off your tongue as you lick your bottom lip, a nervous habit he’s noticed during your interaction. “ Food to last a few weeks, toys, and a leash. Perfect way to get you started.” 
  It does feel perfect.
  “I’ll go get your girl. You’ll have to tell me when you come up with a name.” You wink at him and disappear behind the doors again. 
  ****
  His new companion is sleeping comfortably in the passenger seat of his truck. She stirs occasionally when the road gets a little bumpy but relaxes almost immediately. 
  The setting sun shines through the passenger window and she lifts her paw to cover face. He chuckles to himself at the human-like gesture as he reaches over and scratches behind her ear. 
  “Never thought I’d have a partner in crime again.” She lifts her head and barks at him. “You’re just as talkative as my old partner, Steve.” She speaks again, her hearty boisterous bark echoing in the cab of the truck. 
  She sits up as he drives down the path leading to the ranch. Her soft pants and excited tail wags as she takes in the sight of all the farm animals has him feeling a sense of contentment. 
  “Steve is no name for a lady, cariño.” She paws at his arm and lets out a small whine. “How about Murphy?” She barks twice in his face as he parks his truck in front of the house. 
  Steve is gonna love this. 
  ****
  Chucho drops a piece of meat on the floor as Murphy hurriedly scarfs it down. 
  “Dad, don’t feed her your food, she has her own food.” Javi looks at Murphy as she licks her chops. 
  “I didn’t give her anything son.”  Chucho slowly dips his hand below the table to feed her another piece. He holds his hand up to shush her as he saunters off to the hallway to enjoy her treat. 
  Javi rolls his eyes as she returns from the hallway and lays down in her bed near the back door. She looks outside and lets out a puff of air as she buries her head under the blanket. 
  “I’m glad you took my advice, Jav.” He looks up at his dad smiling to himself while he finishes his meal. 
  “Technically I took Ms. Valencia’s advice.” His dad scowls as he shrugs his shoulders, standing to gather his plate in the sink. 
  ****
  “You named your dog after me!” He can hear the girls giggle in the background as Steve shoos them away. 
  “Not exactly, she’s tolerable and I like her company.” He stares down at the dog, perched at his feet while he stands in the kitchen at the receiver. 
  “If you missed me that much you could’ve come visit.” 
  “Ha,ha very funny.” It’s true he did miss his partner, Murphy is turning out to be a wonderful replacement. 
  “I’d like to meet this girl that convinced you to get a dog.” His teasing tone is clearly evident over the phone. He briefly mentioned you so he’s not sure how Steve could even pick up on his obvious crush. 
  “Goodnight Murphy.” 
  “Are you talking to me or the dog?” Connie can’t disguise her laugh on the other end, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation. 
  “The girls and Connie will get to meet your namesake the next time you come to see me.” 
  They say their goodbyes as Javi hangs up the phone. Murphy lets out a long drawn out yawn and Javi agrees it’s definitely time for bed after a long eventful day. Her first night not sleeping in the shelter, it pains him and warms his heart all at once knowing she won’t ever have to go back there. 
  “Let’s go to bed Murph.” The pitter patter of her feet follows him down the hall to his room. He places her bed in the corner and strips off his clothes. She hops up onto the edge of the bed before he has a chance to tell her no. 
  “Your bed is down there cariño.” She rolls over exposing her belly as she nuzzles further into the blankets and he knows it will be nearly impossible to tell her to get down. 
  “Fine, but just tonight.” He doesn’t even want to address the fact that he spent most of his day talking to her, he wonders if she can even understand him. 
  It won’t be until much later that he realizes how peacefully he slept that night. 
  ****
  Javi stretches his tired muscles as he takes in the soft morning light peeking through the window. He doesn’t immediately register how comfortable he is or well rested. He’s usually up before the crack of dawn so he knows it’s much later than he’s used to waking up.
  The edge of the bed is empty save for the small indent where Murphy laid all night. Her bed is empty as well and the door is slightly ajar. Panic sets in as he throws back the blanket and pulls on his sweats forgoing a shirt to look for his companion. 
  You said she was roaming the streets when she was found and he hopes she didn’t decide to run off in the middle of the night. Despite requiring opposable thumbs to open the door, he can’t think straight until he knows she’s safe. 
  He’s calling her name throughout the house as he takes note of the kitchen being gently used. There’s a small plate next to the food bowl of untouched kibble with some leftover scrambled eggs. 
   Chucho 
  It’s the first morning since he’s been home where he really takes in the sight. His dad is at the fence with the calves and Murphy is sitting beside him. She’s looking up at him as he explains something to her as if she can understand him. 
  He points out to the pasture and she looks out and barks at the small calves running to their mother. Javi is very glad he took that step and brought her home because more than one person seemed to need her presence in their lives. 
  He should call and thank you. 
  He heads over to his truck to pull out the paperwork from the adoption. It’s really the only way he has to contact you so he hopes it’s you who picks up the phone. 
  He slams the truck door and sees Murphy running toward him full speed. 
  “She’s excited to see her papa.” Chucho exclaims as he sends a wave to his son. “I’m going to feed the rest of the animals. I'll catch up with you later.” He winks at Javi as he lumbers off to the barn. 
  ****
  His hands are a little shaky as he dials the number to the shelter. Murphy is laying on his feet beside the table as she drifts off to sleep again, probably having been awake for hours with Chucho. 
  “Laredo Animal Protective Society.” Your sweet voice comes through the receiver and he’s nervous and relieved all at once. 
  “Hi, it’s Javier…Peña.” You chuckle a little on the other end. 
  “I hope you’re not sick of her already.” 
  “Oh no, not at all…Murphy loves it here.” He looks down at her as she rolls over exposing her belly again. 
  “Murphy? I’m guessing there’s a story there.” 
  “Ya there is…I’d love to tell you over lunch or dinner.” Murphy barks and he nearly drops the phone. 
  “I think that bark means dinner, and I’d love to hear it Javier Peña.” 
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated
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kirislovelygf · 2 months
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haunted, part 2 (ronal x fem! metkayina reader)
contents: you and ronal have been married for about 14 years and have lived with the metkayina happily ever since you left the forest. now imagine your surprise when your ex appears out of nowhere with the man she cheated on you with and the family they built together.
content also: flash backs to when you + neytiri were girlfriends, angst, neytiri being kinda toxic, jealous ronal, and y/n high key hating jake
wrd count: 3k
꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
neytiri and i used to spend our days swinging through the forest like kids, racing through the trees.
“i bet i can find our lunch before you can.” i teased as i jumped on a branch. she lands on another above me and teased me.
“sure,” she answered sarcastically. “i have the bigger bow.” she chuckled.
“and i have the better aim.” i said with a hand on my hip.
“aw, is that what your mother told you?” she laughed. she swings into another branch before i can respond.
we kept going until we heard something yelling.
“what kind of animal screams like that?” i asked her as we landed on the forest floor.
she shrugged. “let’s go find out.”
“fine.. but if we die, it’s your fault.” i muttered to her as i walked past. she stared as i climbed up the tree.
she followed behind and we climbed high enough to see the floor.
when jake, who i didn’t know was jake at the time, came into view, i was scared and excited at the same time.
last time i saw a dreamwalker was when dr. grace was teaching me english when i was just a girl. and we hadn’t seen one since neytiri’s sister was killed.
i signaled for neytiri to come over. i jumped on a higher branch while she lay low, hiding behind leaves.
i kept watching him, a man. a man in clothes and holding a gun. a weapon that scared me more than the man himself.
watching him move, talk to himself, was entertaining. he wobbled around like an infant. i smiled and looked down to see neytiri’s reaction.
but she was fearful of the man. and cautious.
she began to sit up and pulled her bow and arrow ready to shoot.
“neytiri.” i muttered as quietly as i could. she looks up as i shook my head and mouthed “don’t.”
neytiri still had her arrow up and ready to shoot.
she glanced back down at the human and stared at his movements. i watched her curiously.
she was intrigued by him. in a way that made me uncomfortable
she sighed in reluctance and put her weapon away. she climbed up to where i was hidden.
“let my mother know there’s a human among us. i need to see what he is doing here.” she said in a hushed tone as she stood in front of me.
“okay.. what about you? will you be okay?” i asked.
she sighed and cupped my face with both of her hands.
“you always worry about me. i’ll be okay.” she smiled.
“i’m sorry, weren’t you the one who tripped over her own tail on the way here?” i whispered.
“i… ugh, you're wasting time. just go home and tell my mother.” she whispered quickly.
i chuckled softly and let her kiss me. her kisses always made me feel safe.
neytiri was always protective of me. one of her qualities i always appreciated.
she was also brave and loving and so intelligent. she learned english faster than i did and was able to learn more about the sky people.
i couldn’t stay focused. but she’d always be there to help me. well, until she wasn’t.
i replayed the moment she laid eyes on him. i must have missed something. she must have fallen in love with him the moment he appeared in the forest.
their love has always been a mystery to me. i let it go as long as i’ve been gone.
and when she came back, it felt like i was transported to the moment i found out she cheated.
i wondered and pondered about neytiri while cooking with my wife. i shouldn’t be this obsessed with her but i am.
ugh, i blame her.
i started to think about my day instead when ao’nung came home and told me he got into a fight.
with neytiri’s sons no less.
he told me ao’nung and his friends have been picking on her son and daughter. since she married a human, two of her kids ended up having four fingers.
and that led to ao’nung getting into a fight with neteyam and lo’ak.
he said they started it as lo’ak punched him, but i know ao’nung better than that. lo’ak didn’t start the fight by hitting him.
ao’nung started it when he decided to be a bully.
other than that, everything was.. manageable. ronal was here telling me about her training with neytiri and how they both hated every second of it.
“i expected her to be stubborn.” i chuckled as i stirred a pot over a fire in the middle of our home.
“i’m surprised she didn’t give up sooner. she waited until the ilu got tired of her falling off.” ronal chuckled as she chopped up fruits.
she puts them into a bowl and picks up a couple pieces.
“do you know how hard it is to fire out an ilu?” she laughed, putting a piece in my hand.
“leave it up to her to find a way.” i snickered.
she laughed beside me when tsireya and tonowari came in.
“hi, mama.” tsireya smiled.
“hi, my little flower. how was the day for you both? you’ve been gone since morning.” i said to her.
i stood up to look for bowls for us.
“it was nice. i spent time with my friends in the jungle. we must have lost track of time because we didn’t realize it was already eclipse.” she smiled as she sat down next to ronal.
“that’s okay. as long as your safe, i’m glad you had fun.” i chuckled.
“i heard something about a fight between ao’nung and lo’ak. what happened?” she asked.
“oh..” i chuckled.
“your brother was picking on the sully children. and earned a punch to the face.” ronal told her.
“ugh, i can’t believe him. he’s been messing with them since they got here.” she grumbled.
“your brother could learn from your kindness.” tonowari muttered.
i smiled and turned back, handing out bowls to everyone.
“or could learn how to fight.” i muttered back.
tonowari and ronal both glared at me as tsireya giggled.
“i’m sorry, but if he’s going to say stupid things all the time, he will need to know how to defend himself.” i said.
they glance at each other before rolling their eyes.
we ate together, not worrying much about where ao’nung was. once he was finished sulking, he’d come back home.
but when the night turned darker, and more na’vi started turning in, i started to grow concerned.
“maybe we should look for him.” tonowari whispered.
“he’s been out this late before. i’m sure he’s on his way back now.” i told him. he took another look outside, pulling the tarp aside.
he then pulled it aside completely when someone approached our home.
“jake sully.” my back was facing the entrance and my heart froze when i heard wari say that name.
i was able to avoid him these past weeks and he hadn’t come to our doorstep at all.
i glanced back and saw him and neytiri standing there. the moonlight poured into our hut as she stared inside.
i stood up and helped ronal up too before we walked over, reluctantly.
“my kids’ been missing all day. ao’nung said he took him to some place called three brothers rock.“ he said.
“oh no… he’s not safe there.” i said softly.
“what?” jake muttered.
“it’s home to akula. dangerous predators.” tonowari said warningly.
neytiri sighed in fear. “don’t worry. we will help you look for your son.” he said to her.
jake spared one more glance before tonowari walked between us to find his spear.
ronal and i went to do the same as jake and neytiri left.
soon, the entire village was searching the reefs for lo’ak. jake and neytiri were on their ikran and circling the island.
i and a couple other villagers were spread out looking for the boy.
“lo’ak?..” i called out.
my ilu began squealing nervously and thrashing. she was suddenly so nervous and started splashing the water.
“no, no, it’s okay.. relax..” i whispered to her. she wasn’t calming down.
something dimmed the light on the ocean floor. something enormous that also caused my ilu to swim away from it.
it’s a tulkun. it’s fin looked familiar though. i’ve seen them before i just couldn’t remember when. it dived into the water and swam away, causing heavy ripples before i could identify it.
suddenly, lo’ak appeared in the water. he looked like i had caught him doing something he shouldn’t be doing.
“mom?” he asked.
“what? no! no, i’m not your mother. it’s y/n.” i said nervously.
“are you okay? your parents are worried.” i held my hand out to him and helped him climb up to sit on the ilu.
“oh.. yeah, i’m okay. i got lost.” he said.
“okay.” i nodded.
we swam back to the village and i started to calling out for people to let them know lo’ak was safe.
we reached the edge of the pathways and i helped him step up.
“thank you.” he muttered.
“you’re welcome. stay safe, lo’ak.” his gaze fell behind me and he began glaring.
i looked and saw ao’nung with his black eye and pouting lip. he looked down as he stood beside his father.
jake stepped off the saddle of his skimwing, out of the water, and stopped his son before he could go over to ao’nung.
if he was my son, i would have let lo’ak at him.
jake looked at his arms and his back, searching his body for any injuries.
neytiri yelled out for her son and ran down to see him for herself.
she made sure he wasn’t hurt before hissing. “i pray for the strength that i will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.”
she swipes at his face, to which lo’ak just rolls his eyes like this happened every week.
“no, this isn’t lo’ak’s fault. ao’nung told him to go to three brothers rock. he knows better than to go there.” tonowari grabbed his son by the nape and made him kneel.
“the blame is his.” he said.
i looked to lo’ak and his parents. “thank you, tonowari, but-“
“no, it wasn’t ao’nung’s fault.” lo’ak spoke.
i grew confused.
“it was my idea. he tried to talk me out of it.” he continued.
i tilted my head slightly. i couldn’t understand why he was lying. but then i looked up to jake and neytiri, who were glaring daggers at his head.
that poor boy. i can feel the pressure from here.
“let’s go.” jake takes his son by the nap and walks away, neytiri following behind.
she slowed down as she was about to walk past me.
“thank you for helping him.” she said softly.
“it was nothing.” i shrugged. she nodded and walked away when ronal came up behind me and started glaring.
“you’re being friendly.” she muttered.
i sighed out and turned to face her. “ronal. please. be jealous tomorrow. i’m tired.”
she rolled her eyes but held my hand regardless as we walked back home together.
everyone was shaken up after lo’ak went missing for a whole day. parents were talking, saying the forest children were bad influences on their own children.
as i fell asleep, i reminded myself of the day everything went south.
the night jake became part of the clan, we celebrated. danced, drank, laughed, and had fun.
i wasn’t enjoying myself though. i noticed for the months that jake has been here that neytiri’s been paying much more attention to him than me.
especially tonight. trying to get him to dance and such.
but she’s been spending every single day with him under the excuse that she’s simply training him.
the day when he picked his ikran, she was touching his chest. for a reason i can’t understand.
what does ikran training have to do with touching his chest like that? and then she left to fly with him and i didn’t see her for the rest of the day.
and when i asked about what they did, she yelled at me.
“i don’t need to report to you! let me breathe!” she also slapped my hand off of her shoulder when i tried to be calm.
she tried to apologize that night, but i couldn’t get over how she slapped me like that.
i still had my doubts. maybe she was being friendly. maybe the problem was me and not with jake.
i disproved it all when i woke up and she wasn’t beside me like she was when she fell asleep.
i went to look for her but everyone was gathered at the trunk of hometree. everyone was confused. i tried to look for mo’at to ask her what was happening.
when i asked around me, no one could give me a straight answer. and up front were men and women ready to fight, holding their bows up in the air.
i finally reached the center of the circle everyone has formed.
i walked up behind mo’at and eytukan. tsu’tey was talking to them angrily. something about jake, i couldn’t understand, he was just rambling.
as if we spoke him into existence, him and neytiri walked into hometree. and holding hands.
jake called for tsu’tey, telling him not to do this. i wasn’t sure what “this” was.
i still had no idea what happened to get everyone so angry.
the next thing i know, tsu’tey pushed jake to the ground.
“tsu’tey! stop!” neytiri screamed at him, pushing him back. i watched in shock.
as he huffed resisting neytiri’s pushes, he asked him.
“you mated with this woman?”
and with that, it was like time stopped.
neytiri’s mouth was agape and she pushed tsu’tey back, this time he actually stepped away.
she looked at me as mo’at questioned if it were true or not. i kept glancing between her and jake.
“we..” she sighed out. “we are mated before eywa.”
“it is done.” even then she couldn’t look me in the eye when she actually needed to.
i could feel everyone’s stares on me.
i stomped toward the woman i thought loved me as much as i loved her and grabbed her wrist, dragging her away from everyone.
“y/n stop! listen for a moment.” she argued.
“all this time, you’ve been going behind my back. i knew you were in love with him. but i denied it so many times..”
“y/n, let me explain.”
“no! neytiri, listen to me. this entire time i have listened to your dumb excuses.” i yelled out.
she glared at me like i did something wrong.
“you are the worst woman in this entire planet. just last night, you told me you loved me. that nothing is between you and jake-“
“i know,-“
“and then I found out you.. you mated with him! the fucking human, you cannot be serious! right now, i believe i am crazy because what the fuck.” i screamed and screamed at the top of my lungs.
“what the fuck! neytiri!”
“you’re not crazy! y/n, i never meant for this to happen. i’m sorry. please.” she cried. “he isn’t as bad as you believe..”
“you’re incredible. his kind has done nothing but bring pain and suffering and you want me to believe he isn’t as bad as i think just because you slept together?” i reminded her.
she flinched at my yells.
“they killed sylwanin. they killed my father, they are destroying our home right now. you’re leaving me, and your home, and tsu’tey.. for him?” i asked her.
“i know how it sounds! i know what they did! but i didn’t want tsu’tey and i never wanted to be tsahik! the only thing i was ever sure about was you. until..” she cried.
“i was wrong.. i was wrong and i’m so sorry. i didn’t want it to happen like this..”
we paused. my chest was rising up and down. slowly now that i caught my breath.
“he will only hurt you.” i said, my voice raspy from the screams.
“he will only ever be a burden to you. you’ll never be able to forget who he is. what he is. what his kind has done to us.” i told her.
she glared at me, tears streaming down her face.
neither of us said a thing as we stared at each other painfully.
“you’ll always be reminded of me when you can’t escape his past.”
i heard footsteps behind me.
“y/n… y/n, it’s all my fault. i’m sorry.” his stupid voice rang.
“i’m sorry, but we have to go-“ he rambled but right as he appeared behind me, i struck him in the face, knocking him down.
“fuck you, jake!”
“stop! y/n!” she pulled my shoulder back and dropped to her knees to see how he was.
right then i knew who she really loved. it was me for a while. but it stopped, probably before she even met him.
it was worse because i thought jake and i were friends. i didn’t like him at first, no one did. but neytiri told me to give him a chance.
now i know why she said that.
that was the last time i saw neytiri. i didn’t hear about the war until years later when i joined the metkayina clan.
i lost any anger i felt for jake when i found out he was the new toruk makto. i decided i shouldn’t be angry at him because he fell in love with her. my love.
my problem wasnt even with neytiri for loving him.
but she still lied to me and manipulated me and mated with jake while we were still together.
i realize now i’ve been keeping anger for her ever since i left. i think her returning is a sign from eywa that i need to forgive her.
no, it definitely is.
꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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benkeibear · 1 year
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☰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦 - 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑
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⧫ Characters: Wakasa, Baji, Kokonoi
꒰ ͜͡➸ Kakucho/Taiju/Hanma | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Draken/Sanzu/Benkei
⧫ Reader: female
⧫ Summary: Their child insults their mom and how they would handle it
⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old url!)
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☰ Wakasa:
ꕤ You've been baking a cake for some guests later and of course your son wanted to eat some of it
ꕤ "You can't have of the big cake but I made you a small one because I know you sweetcheeks" you explained
ꕤ But your son didn't want to listen and grabbed a piece of the big cake with his bare hand, ruining the whole thing
ꕤ You took his wrist and scolded him
ꕤ "You're a stupid Mama I wish I would have another one"
ꕤ You shouldn't be upset by a tantrum but you had tears in your eyes, it really hurt you
ꕤ Wakasa happened to walk in as these words were said and spoke THE word
ꕤ "If you don't like her you're not getting any cake at all" He said serious and walked him to his room
ꕤ Instead of scolding him he sat down and explained him not to say such things to your parents
ꕤ He told him about how his parents were never around and how happy He can be that He has such an amazing mom like you
ꕤ Your puffy eyed son came out "'m sorry. I'm happy you're my Mama" He sniffled as He gave you a hug
ꕤ Wakasa also talked to you in the evening and reassured you that you're being an amazing mom
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☰ Baji:
ꕤ Your son was currently in his little rebel phase, not listening to anything and trying out how far He can go
ꕤ So when his behavior wasn't only towards you but also the cats you started to get serious about it
ꕤ "Hey! Don't pull the tail! If you do that again you have to go to your room and Daddy won't read you a story tonight" you warned him, knowing that a story every night is important to him
ꕤ Your son was so angry with you "I hate you! You're a stupid shit mom" He screamed from the top of his tiny lungs, letting everyone in the neighbourhood hear
ꕤ Also Baji who was just outside of the house, coming home from work
ꕤ You put your son to his room and closed the door, needing to cool off as you slid down the door and started crying
ꕤ It was always your fear to end up like your own mom, neglecting your child and not being good enough
ꕤ Baji immediately pulled you in his arms and made sure you're okay before going to his son
ꕤ "You can't talk to your Momma like that! Do you even know how much she does for you? I won't read you a story tonight and you will apologize" He said strict, being really upset with him
ꕤ He later called his mom to ask her for help, not knowing how to handle such temper but she just laughed "now you're getting exactly what I had to deal with"
ꕤ He sighed and sat down, explaining him not to hurt animals and how important family is which made your son cry, apologizing to you "but you're still stupid" He mumbled into your arms
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☰ Kokonoi:
ꕤ It was his fault, spoiling your daughter and treating her like a little princess. She never heard the words no from him
ꕤ She wanted to go shopping with you but you didn't have the time for it and she had more than enough things
ꕤ Why does a 5 year old need 30+ designer dresses? You don't know either but Koko buys her everything she asks for
ꕤ "But Mama I WANT that dress!" She started screaming over and over again until you lost it
ꕤ "If you don't stop screaming I take all of your clothes and give them to a donation" you threatened her, knowing that's a fear of hers
ꕤ "You look like daddy picked you up from a donation pile!" She said angry and slammed the door
ꕤ You weren't really hurt by it, rather amused but told Koko anyway, having a serious talk with him about her behavior
ꕤ He later went to your daughter with a trash bag in hand "I don't like how you talk to your Mama. You put the things you don't want anymore in here and I tell her I took them away" He said amused
ꕤ He would never stop spoiling her but also told her that He was poor when growing up and not to talk to you like that
ꕤ She ended up apologizing to you but still stood with her donation pile statement because your dress is 'so last season'
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Networks: @tokyometronetwork
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