#Alright I'm talking too much now bai-

[ricksoo]

HUEY IS FINALLY 3 YEARS OLD???

LET'S GOOO-

*ahem*

Anyways I don't have any gift for the moment because of... you know.

Oh well, I guess I'll only say this:

Happy birthday Huey! 🎉🎂

Huey and Scarfy by @xxtc-96xx

(Thank you TC for showing me your awesome concepts ^^)

[billysgun]

hand holding

billy the kid x virgin!reader 18+|requested!|your perfect first time with billy as he passionately and softly shows how much he loves you|

his warm chest presses into yours, blue eyes sparkling as the candle-lit room dims each second with night swallowing the small town

"are you sure?" he whispers, his finger circling your palm as you nod slowly

"yes, I'm sure" you say, trying to keep your excitement at bay

he smiles, looking over your face before moving to your neck and collarbones,

"I'm going to kiss every inch of you" he honestly whispers, you feel giddy as the gunslinger keeps one hand interlocked with yours while the other one teases your first button

"like here," he said, dipping down to kiss your collarbone while simultaneously removing the first button

"and here" pop another button comes undone as he kisses your neck

"...here" the valley of your breast is now in view and you feel your breath become shallow as he slowly exposes you, he kisses your chin and removes another button to kiss your cheek

as another kiss is laid on your forehead and nose, he's at the last button. and as he removes your shirt, releasing your breasts, he kisses your lips

"you're beautiful" he tells you, his thumb rubbing the hand that's holding his as he kisses down your stomach, reaching your pants.

he swiftly yanks your pants and suddenly you're in your thin bloomers and he tickles the rim of them with his fingertips

"gonna remove 'em now, love" he talks you through, slowly pulling them to reveal your center. you close your eyes, feeling your slick already at your thighs as he brings the interlocked hand to rest on your tummy

"keep holdin' on to me" he whispers, lifting your legs to spread them open as your wetness shines prominently

"fuck, darling" he mumbles to himself, looking up at you only to see your eyes still closed. he quickly brings his free hand to your chin to gently guide your face to his

"I need you to be lookin' at me the whole time. need to make sure you're alright" he tells you, you almost forget to speak at the sight of him between your thighs but you manage to say,

"I will, billy."

he smiles, letting his hand rest on your thigh and giving an encouraging squeeze to the other one

"I'm gonna try somethin" he starts,

"to make sure you're ready for me. if it's too much, let me know"

you nod and he experimentally licks your slit, you surprise yourself with a moan and he grins

he does kitten licks at your center before moving up, wrapping his lips around your clit and you squeal

he calms you down with a few flicks of his tongue before using his fingers to go up and down your center, blue eyes trained on you.

"sweetheart, I'm gonna add a finger" he rests his forehead on your spread thighs as his ring finger slowly sinks into you, waiting until you nod before gradually pumping it into you

your heart quickened at the sensation, he leans to lick your clit as he speeds his finger up

you squeeze his hand and lock yourself around his finger, almost twisting your eyes shut at the feeling of all your senses being stroked but keeping them open to see his tongue repeatedly flicking your bud as your hips swirled around

"tell me when you're ready for another one" he whispers, wild eyes staring as his lips wrap around you

"I'm ready" you moan, he grins and slowly adds his middle finger, once you feel like you can handle the new stretch he begins to expertly pump them

your back arches up and billy began to hump the bed softly, pants tight as his erection became painful

"I need to taste you." he growls, curling his finger as your legs shook

"billy!" you cried and his fingers slipped out of you, replacing them with his tongue as you came into his mouth. he hungrily laps at your core, flat tongue scooping all of your juices as you contort from the sensitivity

you tiredly pushed his head back and he kisses your thigh, rising up with a glossy chin he undoes his belt

his erection was extremely noticeable as he quickly removed all of his clothing, wiping his mouth before leaning toward you.

your eyes were wide at the sight of his cock, it stood proud with veins pumping and red tip leaking. he squeezed the hand you two still held before putting it above your head

your noses touched as you both tried to catch your breaths, his eyes stared into yours as he whispered,

"can I put it in, love?" his thumb went back to soothingly rubbing your hand as his other rested at your waist, you felt hot as his dick bumped into your stomach and you nodded,

"yes, billy." he softly kissed you as he lifted his hips and began to slowly sink into you, your nails dug into his hand at the feeling, he kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear,

"tell me if it's too much"

"o-okay"

he moved back up to rub his nose into yours, his smiling stretching his lips distracting you from the feeling, and soon he was inside of you.

"can I move, honey?" he asked, you felt full of him, even fuller with love as he kissed your nose.

"yes" you smiled, he moved back before inserting himself in again, the feeling made your entire body shiver as you unconsciously whined at the feeling

"fuck, I love you" he groaned, other arm bent next to your head as he rhythmically snapped his hips inside you, he moved to kiss you as he quickens his pace

"I love you, I love you, billy" you babble as your legs begin to shake, knowing the feeling all too well from moments before

"come on, sweetie. come on me" he whispered, your back arched as you squeezed him. he watched your face and his hips stuttered at the sight, he released himself inside you with your lips kissing and hands holding.

he kept himself above you as he panted softly, still inside of you and most of your fluids leaking out. he kissed you slowly as he removed himself and held you,

"you did amazing, love" he rubbed your back softly as you smiled at him, he moved to catch your lips

"now, let's run a bath before we melt into each other"

an: omg thank you so much for requesting this! i loved writing it sm <333

[scribblesofagoonerr]

All that I ask is that you stay with me | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, A - All that I ask is that you stay with me

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

This is some angst that I thought to write because, well, life's been hard recently and I need a creative outlet to get my emotions out on paper and well, this is the result.

It might not be great and it's not been proof-read at all, so uh, yeah... Let me know what you all think but please be kind :)

And if any of you have any ideas of things to write, I'm open to write anything, within reason of course. My asks are open so feel free to drop anything in there :)

The battle with your inner demons are hard. You sometimes wonder if it's better to leave the world, making the decision without the realisation of how loved you are by the team of girls around you.

TW: heavy angst, SH, MH and talks of suicide and death.

"Y/N are you in there? Hurry up, we're about to start the film" The loud voice of Katie shouts aloud from the other side of the closed bathroom door to alert you of your attention.

You were joined by the girls in a classic team bonding night, a good ol' fashioned film to watch with some sugary treats, curtousy of it being a cheat day.

You are always so excited to spend time with the older girls, you all looked up with some much respect, being a part of the team for a while, you'd grown to love the girls like your own family.

Despite how well you fitted in at the club and how amazing you played football, there would always be people to put you down.

And in this case, it was in the forms of social media.

The internet could be a cruel place sometimes.

"Ye... Yeah, alright. J... Just a minute, I'll be right out" You shakily reply as you held the blade out in front of you while it stared back at you, almost like it was almost taunting you to use it.

Old habits are easy to break, you should have knew that.

It wasn't long before you were slumped on the bathroom floor as you watched the crimson liquid trickle down your arms. It felt like a rush of instant relief to the pain that you currently indured.

One small cut to take away the pain, you thought it would be okay.

Two cuts, you just wanted to chase the rush of the first.

Three, four and five, you realise you may have messed up.

You were doing so well, you had been on the right path to get help. that was needed. You had been clean for a numerous amount of days and just in that instant, the snap of a finger and all of that progress, had just been so easy to unwravle again.

You found it so easy to take a hold of the blade in your hand, press it against your wrist and pierce the skin.

It was a feeling of euphoria that you hadn't felt in a while, it was something that was needed.

The cuts were deep, too deep that even with added pressure, they wouldn't stop bleeding.

"Is this the end now?" You had to question yourself as your eyelids felt heavy, you were so tired and you didn't have it in you to fight anymore.

Was it really that easy to leave a world full of heartache and pain?

Maybe so,

At least you had thought that as you hear the sudden loud bang of the bathroom flying open and clashing against the wall.

"Y/N!" It was Leah's shrill voice that screams out in a panic, her eyes widened in fear as she stares at you. "Y/N, can you hear me?!" she questions with a a quiver in her tone.

"L... Le" You slur her name as you look at the blonde as you can feel yourself slipping into a state of unconciousness.

"Stay awake, Y/N. You have too-- Girls, help!" Leah continues to shout aloud for any of the girls to hear. " You hear me, Y/N? You have to stay awake" she pleads as her tears threaten to spill.

"S' okay, Le. L... Let me go. It's time" You tell her quietly as your eyes flutter between being open and shut.

"No, Y/N. You can't give up... You can't" Leah cries openly, the tears at bay have now escaped. "Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, please" she adds, her voice becomes louder as hot tears roll down her cheeks.

The rest of the girls all heard Leah's panicked voice and dart in the direction of the bathroom, each of them gasping in shock to find you slumped on the floor.

"Shit-- Y/N" Beths' eyes widen in fear and panic as she takes in the scene in front of her.

"What happened?" Viv questions, alarmed by the sight.

"S... She's hurt herself" Leahs' panicked voice speaks aloud while she's crouched down on the floor and pressing a towel against your wrists to try and soak up the blood. "I... I can't get the bleeding to stop" she tells them.

"Somebody call an ambulance, quick" Katie states as she joins Leah's side to kneel down and try to help in way that she can.

Her usual joking manner has suddenly turned into fearful and that's when the girls all knew this was serious.

"I'm on it" Jen agrees as fishes her phone out of her pocket, dialing 999 and waiting for an answer on the other side. "I need an ambulance, as soon as possible. It's urgent! My team mates' hurt herself and is in and out of unconciousness" the scots' woman speaks aloud,

"Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me, keep your eyes open please" Leah pleads as she continues to hold the now blood-soaked towl against your skin, her own tears freely spilling down her cheeks as you daze in and out of sleep.

"W... Why would she do this to herself" Steph questions concerned as she glances at you, heartbroken it had come to this.

"I don't know, she was... she was doing better" Lia spoke out, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to keep her own emotions in check.

"At least, we thought she was" Beth mumbles as she struggles to take her eyes off your unconcious body.

"She'll be okay, she has to be" Caitlin adds in with vulnerability in her voice that wasn't usually shown to anyone, other than you.

You were the baby of the team, all of the girls were overprotective of you ever since you joined. It wasn't a secret that you had them all virtually wrapped around your pinky finger.

All the girls knew it was hard for you, you had a lot of expectation to live up to and knew that eventually, the pressure would be too much for you and you would break.

They were all there the last time, they saw the good, the bad and the damn right ugly and vowed to not let it happen again.

But, old habits are easy to break, right?

"Ambulance is on it's way. It won't be long" Jen tells the girls.

"I'm going with her" Leah was quick to say. A tone in her voice which the rest of the girls knew to not object against.

You were close with the girls but compared to them, Leah was pretty much your second-mum, older sister figure all rolled into one and she was the one that you always came to when it got tough.

Why didn't you just speak to her? Then maybe things could be different.

"We'll follow you to the hospital" Kim replies to the blonde and the rest of the girls all nod in agreement, they would always be there for you at a time when you most needed it.

They were your family, and family never turned their back on another.

[akoyaxs]

Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.

When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.

All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.

You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.

Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.

It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.

“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.

You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.

It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.

Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.

It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.

But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.

“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.

You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.

“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”

“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And finally he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.

“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”

“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”

“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”

“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”

“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”

“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.

“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.

“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”

“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.

“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”

“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.

“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”

“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.

“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”

Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.

You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.

But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.

The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.

On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.

He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.

But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.

They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.

They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.

Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?

Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.

It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.

“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”

“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.

“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”

Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.

“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”

Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.

Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.

Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.

You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.

It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.

He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.

But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.

You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.

Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.

And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.

Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.

“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.

“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.

But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.

From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.

Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.

And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.

So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.

Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.

You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.

Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?

Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.

When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.

Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.

“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.

He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.

It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.

With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.

You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.

“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.

Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.

Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.

The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.

“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.

Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.

Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.

You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.

He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.

And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.

He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.

It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.

You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.

Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.

But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.

What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?

Fuck.

From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.

Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.

Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.

The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.

But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.

A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.

Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.

There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.

“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”

Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.

 “I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.

“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”

“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”

“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”

“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”

“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”

“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.

“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”

“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”

“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.

“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”

“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”

“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”

Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.

“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.

Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”

Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”

Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”

“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”

Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.

“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”

“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.

“Of course she want-”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”

Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.

“Come on taw-”

You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.

“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.

It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.

“Now,” Aonung adds.

Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.

“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”

Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.

“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”

Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful,  but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.

When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.

You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.

“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”

“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.

“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”

“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.

Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.

Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”

You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.

Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.

It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.

It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.

This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.

Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.

Fuck.

Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.

There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.

Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.

When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.

There’s something just so filthy about this.

You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?

Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.

Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.

His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.

Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.

Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.

His little friend.

That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.

Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.

“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”

Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.

You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.

You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.

The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.

The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.

When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.

You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.

Oh.

Fuck.

You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.

Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.

After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.

But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”

You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.

He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.

You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.

After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).

“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.

“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.

“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.

Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.

“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”

“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.

You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.

Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.

“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.

And suddenly, he notices something.

There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.

Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.

Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.

He clears his throat.

No no no.

Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.

There is something different. Something off.

And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.

He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.

You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.

“And for upsetting you.”

There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.

“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.

“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”

“Do what.”

“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”

Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.

“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.

It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.

“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”

“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.

That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.

Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.

You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.

“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.

“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”

“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.

He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.

But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.

“You don’t need anyone.”

Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.

“Right,” you snap.

“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.

“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”

No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.

“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”

“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”

Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.

“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.

“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”

You freeze. So does he.

Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.

The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.

Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.

“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”

Silence.

“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”

“I love you too.” 

“Please just forget- wait what?”

There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.

Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.

“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.

“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”

“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”

“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”

“Guess so.”

There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.

When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.

“God, I love you.”

Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.

Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.

Well, good riddance.

Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.

You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.

When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.

He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.

When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.

As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.

Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.

“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”

Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.

You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.

“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.

“Why-”

“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.

“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.

“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”

You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.

He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.

He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.

You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.

When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.

He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.

And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.

You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.

And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.

“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”

“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.

“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”

“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”

“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.

You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.

Fuck.

His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else.  His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.

“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.

“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”

“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”

“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.

When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.

He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.

He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.

Fuck yes.

He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.

Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.

But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.

He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.

He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.

He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.

When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.

You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.

It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.

He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.

But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.

You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.

“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.

His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”

He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”

“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.

You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.

Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.

All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.

His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.

It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.

“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.

Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.

Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.

Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.

“God- Aonung!”

Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.

“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”

Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.

“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.

“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.

“Care to fuck me now?”

Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.

“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”

His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.

A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.

He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.

With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.

The second you’re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.

Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.

“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”

Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.

“Take these off.”

“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.

“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”

“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.

“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.

The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Fuck yes.”

Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.

It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.

He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.

With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.

You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.

When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.

He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.

And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.

He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.

The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”

“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”

He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.

Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.

“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”

The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”

The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.

You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.

Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.

“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”

“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”

“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.

The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.

His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.

It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.

He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.

The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.

Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.

The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.

You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.

He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.

Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.

Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.

Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.

And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.

He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.

It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.

He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.

That’s that.

It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.

He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.

Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.

When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.

You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.

You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.

You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.

Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.

You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”

“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.

“What?”

“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”

“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.

“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

And he does.

Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.

He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.

Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.

He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.

But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.

So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

[samoankpoper21]

JJK Men When You Get Your Period

A/N Split their reaction into 3 categories: freaking out, this is nothing, and wHAT 🤣 don't know if these would be considered "canon" but it's what I think may or may not be their accurate reaction 🤣Enjoy~!!

Gojo Satoru: This dude is high key low key freaking out I'm not even joking 🤣 he's seen blood but why is it coming out of there 🤣 "Babyyyyyy," Satoru's sweet voice rang throughout your shared apartment. You exited the bedroom in your robe, Satoru's smile dropping a little. "What's wrong honey? Why aren't you dressed?" "Satoru, I don't think I can escort you to your company's all white event." "Eh? Why? What's wrong? Talk to me." "In the state I'm in I'll end up cursing the whole event." "What are you talking about? You're scaring me Y/N-chan." "Everyone knows you don't wear white, especially now." "Make it make sense." "Babe I just started my period." "O-oh...ooooooooohmygawd are you ok?! Are you hurt?! Should I call in?! Yeah ima call in." "Satoru, stop being dramatic." you chided. "Go in my stead. This is the school's founding anniversary and plus you guys are honoring those who we lost. Can you imagine how Yaga and the rest of the staff will feel knowing one of their most prominent members doesn't show up?" "But what about you?" he pouted. You grabbed his face planting a kiss on his forehead atop his blindfold. "I'll be fine love. I'm just bloated and bleeding." "You're bleeding?!" "Satoru, I swear to gawd we go through this every month."

Yuji Itadori: Much like his (adoptive) father he's freaking out too. This is uncharted territory for him. "Megumi! Have you seen Y/N?" "She went home early, said somethin' bout not feeling too good." Yuji rushed off telling Megumi to cover for him. He ran to the store and brought you a bouquet of daisies, quickly paying the cashier, and rushing to your apartment. A flurry of knocks could be heard at your door and you groaned knowing who it was. "Y/N! Y/N! Hello? Y/N!" He reminded you of a puppy, albeit an annoyingly cute one. You cracked the door and you swear you saw his eyes light up with stars. "Y/N!" He quickly hugged you allowing himself in. "Daisies?" "Oh," he offered the bouquet towards you. "These are for you." You chuckle. "Yuji, I'm not dead, though I do feel like I'm dying." "Huh? What's going on Y/N-chan? Are you alright? Do you need to go the hospital? Where does it hurt? On a scale of 1-10 how bad is your pain level?" "Yuji," you chuckle again. "Calm down. My period started today." "Eh?" you kissed his cheek reassuring him. "Don't worry I'm not gong to die off of a little bit of blood." "Little blood?!" "Yuji I bleed from my vagina once a month." "Oh," he blushes at how you can nonchalantly refer to your genitalia. To this day he still blushes when you say dick. "Lay with me? I need your warmth as my personal heating pad."

Yuta Okkotsu: He wouldn't freak out per se but he is a bit confused as to what to do. He'll try to help you out as best as he could while trying to keep Rika at bay 😅 "Rika-chan, please!" "I swear to gawd Yuta if you don't get her out of here I'll make her disappear for you." Your patience was at an all time low as the pain from your cramps intensified. It didn't help that your boyfriend was low key clueless so he thought it was a bright idea to summon his former lover to 'help' him. You couldn't blame him though, he isolated himself growing up so obviously he missed out on 'the talk'. You took a deep breath and ask through gritted teeth, "Rika dear, be a doll and give us a second hm?" She looked to Yuta and he nodded, you letting out the breath you were holding. "I don't understand-" "Yuta-kun, please. Let me say this first. I don't blame you for not knowing what do with these situations due to your upbringing but I've said this before: this is normal. To bleed every month. It lets us women know that 1) we are not pregnant and 2) prepares us for the pains of child birth." A blush spread across his face. "O-oh, is that so?" "Yes and I would appreciate it if you asked me instead of relying on Rika. Part of being on my period means I'll be experiencing mood swings like now and weird cravings. I'm your girlfriend Yuta. I'm in the here and now." "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was like that." "It's ok." A moment of silence passed when he asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Get me a pint of rocky road ice cream and we'll call it even."

Toge Inumaki: This poor baby would low key be freaking out 😅 he understands that you're bound to be in pain once a month but he still can't help but fret around 😅 "Mustard leaf! Mustard leaf!" "I'm fine Toge-kun. You don't have to worry. This is normal hunn'." "Bonito flakes!" "Toge-kun this. is. normal." "Salmon roe." You chuckled grabbing his face planting a kiss on his forehead. "Baby, the pain is nothing. It's just preparing me in the event that we have kids." His eyes grew big as he shyly says, "Salmon." You chuckled again kissing his forehead.

Kento Nanami: This man is a GOD SEND 😭 you want ice cream? He'll get it for you. Need a heating pad? Say less. This man is literally attentive to your needs especially when it's that time of month for you - he's those boyfriends that'll have a basket full of your favorite snacks ready for you 😭❤️ You walked into your shared apartment, body feeling heavy. Today was a long day at work and it doesn't help that you were on your period. You dropped your keys in the tray setting your purse down when you realized the scented candles, lights dim. "Baby?" Kento came around the corner mixing chocolate chip cookie dough in a bowl, your heart swelling at the image of him still in his dress shirt apron thrown over. "Hey love. Go ahead and take a bath. I ran the water so by the time your're done the cookies should be ready." You could feel your lips trembling as you walked to him enveloping him in a back hug. "Honey?" "You're such a blessing to me you know that? Too good for me." He turned around hugging you to him kissing your forehead. "I love you." "I love you too."

Megumi Fushiguro: This is nothing new to him, he's had to deal with Tsumiki when it was her time of the month. I feel like Megumi would be the one to get the sanitary napkins for you, no shame in his game 🤭 2 girls passed by whispering about how good looking Megumi is, Megumi not paying them any mind. He stood there pondering between the boxes of super tampons or ultra. "Would you like some help?" One of the girls offered. "No thank you. These are for my girlfriend." "Lucky girl." She purred as she moved closer. Megumi stepped back shoving the box of assorted pack in her face. "Thanks but I've found what I've been looking for."

Geto Suguru: Unlike his husbando counterpart Satoru, Suguru handles you with ease. He pries into your feelings trying to understand what it is that makes you tick during the time of the month and tries to help out as best as he could. A warm hand on your forehead rouses you from your sleep. You peel your eyes open to see your boyfriend. "Suguru?" "Hi love." he whispers. "How long was I out for?" "Couple hours," You try to sit up but wince at the pain in your lower abdomen. "You need another heating pad?" "No thank you." You look at your boyfriend small pools of tears welling at the corners of your eyes. "What's wrong love?" "I'm just-you're so good to me thank you, especially when my emotions are all over the place during the time of the month." Shushing you, he kissed your forehead gently reassuring, "Of course love. I'll always be here for you."

Ryomen Sukuna: This dude is a little shit ngl 🤣 when you're on your period he calls it your devil week because apparently that's when you act out 🙄 The King of Curses is usually never afraid of anything unless it's you on your period; he gets the concept of it and tries to steer away from you. There are a few times where he teases you about being on your period but he knows it never ends well 😅 You have a condition called menorrhagia so when you bleed you bleeeed. You had just got through changing out your pad for the 4th time within the last hour and a half when Sukuna snarkily remarks, "I've seen way more blood than that. What you got going on is nothing." You fling the used pad at his head. "What the hell Y/N!" "You see those clumps of jelly? That's my blood coming out of this vagina. Wanna know the worst part? Those jelly like clumps are blood clots, so don't you DARE FUCKING TALK TO ME ABOUT HOW LITTLE MY BLOOD IS BECAUSE GOT DAMN IT SUKUNA I WILL BLEED ALL OVER YOU IF I HAVE TO! "Ok ok chill it with the theatrics." "I swear to gawd Sukuna I will kill you with my own bare hands so help me God. If I can't kill you with these hands I will pour some holy water down your throat" "On that note let me go buy your favorite ice cream."

Choso: Choso is practically a blood bender 🤣 nah but in all seriousness when it's that time of month for you Choso is just 😅 his reaction is just 🤦🏽‍♀️ You groaned at how heavy your flow was. You were changing your pad while your boyfriend Choso was stepping out the shower glancing at your full one. "Ew babe, don't look at it. It's gross." "That's a lot of blood." "I know it's so annoying. Like how the hell am I bleeding this much and I'm still living and breathing!" "I can manipulate it you know, make it go back in thinner or something." "What?!" "Huh?"

Toji Fushiguro: I know there are some sharks out there and Toji is one of them 🤧 I don't know what it is about that time of month but it makes him twice as horny for you. Toji sniffed the air closing his eyes, inhaling deeply at your scent. He knew that it was that time of month for you. You were laying in bed when you felt your feet being dragged to the edge of the bed. "Toji!" you squealed. "I need you." "Babe," you tried pushing him away as he began leaving hickies on your neck. "I-ngh-I'm on my period right now." "I know." You grabbed his face asking, "Are you sure?! You're not going to be grossed out by all the blood??" "The fuck? Hell no. Besides I know you get just as horny as I do." You paused. Well there's no denying that. "Don't worry I bought the dark towels."

[scribblestatic]

Because I like to make stuff up just from the most vague of associations, I recently talked about COTL and I'm writing an SVSSS fic on my other AO3 account, so now, we have Sheep Yuan.

Basically, Shen Yuan transmigrates and is gonna get put into Shen Qingqiu at an earlier time, but Shen Qingqiu's soul is a tenacious motherfucker, so it doesn't give up despite his qi deviation. Without a good vessel to put Shen Yuan's soul in, the system finds the nearest body that can accommodate him.

It ends up being in the body of a spirit sheep on Xin Ya (fan-made) Peak with all the rest of the beasties being studied and/or eaten (they do animal husbandry and farming, too).

Sheep Yuan doesn't quite remember his past life at first because yeah, the little lamb brain needs time to process human thought. Like, sheep are smart, but not quite able to compute to the same level as humans, so the sheep body's gonna have to adapt. So, he kinda follows through the usual sheep things after he manages to stand up, not realizing he'd been a stillborn lamb just a few moments ago.

He also doesn't immediately realize that his "mother" in this world died during childbirth until later because he was supposed to be a twin. But he and his twin got impacted and the spirit sheep couldn't handle it. All three had died, but somehow, he survived. So, now, he gets hand-fed. Despite the peak lord of Xin Ya telling the disciples not to name the animals or get too attached since they provide food for many of the peaks, one disciple does start calling him Shēng Huán (生还 = To Survive).

He's being raised and monitored on Xin Ya like other farmed spirit animals, and he's alright as long as he gets his food and has a nice place to sleep. Despite spirit sheep being herding creatures, he's not the most popular amongst his peers, so he tends to dwell around the humans more. But as he becomes more aware, he realizes that some of the lambs and sheep have gone missing, and because he's not only a sheep, he puts two-and-two together and realizes he's on the menu.

So, he starts trying to escape, despite the fact he's not even fully weaned off his milk yet. When he can't manage to escape, he tries acting cute so no one thinks about eating him just yet.

Also, as a spirit sheep with more intelligence, he figures out how to cultivate, which is something most spirit and demonic creatures figure out naturally. Since he was born a spirit sheep, he got a head start rather than a mortal cat or dog or something. So, he starts cultivating to try and acquire a human body to avoid getting eaten.

One day, he's finally put on the roster for slaughter because of a larger meat order (Dammit Bai Zhan!! Stop eating so much meat!!!). In his panic as he's led to the slaughter room, he uses qi and manages to escape, fleeing the mountain as quickly as possible.

The problem now, though, is that he's terribly lost and he's not sure he got away from Cang Qiong. In fact, he's almost certain he's still on the mountain somewhere because the qi is still quite dense! He has to escape before he's put on someone's plate!

What he doesn't realize is that he fled to Qing Jing Peak.

The grass there is tasty, so he gets a bit distracted while eating it. But then he hears a scuffle and, despite being a prey animal, goes to see what's going on. There, he sees a fluffy-haired boy getting beaten up by a bunch of older kids while a younger girl cries out beside him.

I'm sorry, human girl, but I'm sure this "A'Luo" whose name you're calling out would very much appreciate it if you did something other than that! Maybe throw a punch or a kick or something!

Anyway, he sees the boy get pretty beat up and watches as the group leaves, satisfied. The boy and girl talk, and he only kind of understands human language--he's still learning, okay? He's looking for some sort of jade guanyin? There's so much greenery around, how is this A'Luo supposed to find that?

But, well, 'Yuan,' as he calls himself (not sure why he insists on that...hmm) decides to help. With his superior animal senses + cultivation combo, he sees the guanyin hanging off a branch. He's not sure how to get it down, though...

Well, he has horns, so maybe he could knock it down!

Once the children head off, he starts knocking his head against the tree. And, yikes, it kinda hurts a bit, but good thing he's got a thick skull and nice curved horns growing in! So he smacks the tree until he manages to use qi through his horns and crack the trunk. The branches shake, and finally, the jade guanyin falls!

...Now, how is he supposed to get it to that A'Luo? And why does he even care that much? Sure, the kid looked so cute and sad, like a little bun, but he's a prey animal and those children are predators that could eat him!!

Still...just the thought of leaving the fluffy black sheep without the guanyin made his little heart hurt. Maybe he felt kinship toward that fluffy little boy.

Following the boy's scent as he trailed through the bamboo and forest, he found it strongest at a woodshed of all places. How strange...he must go there often. It's almost night time, so he likely wouldn't return. Anyway, he'd just leave the guanyin on the ground in front of the door and--

Luo Binghe returned to the woodshed with his unhealed bruises and ruddy eyes, having spent some more time searching for his guanyin. But he stopped, seeing a sheep on the mountain. Different animals went around the peaks as they pleased, but there definitely weren't any spirit sheep on the peak. So why was--

But his thoughts stopped when he saw the guanyin in the sheep's mouth.

Caught in the act, Yuan gives up and slowly approaches the boy, keeping his head low and legs ready in case he needed to run away. The boy felt...strong somehow, and it made him feel cautious.

Feeling too afraid to get too much closer, Yuan put the guanyin on the ground and backed up. Of course, the boy practically pounced on the jade, making Yuan stumble back and almost bolt. But he managed to wait, watching as the boy sobs profusely over the guanyin and thanking him.

Yuan stared at him for a bit, then his nerves get to be too much, and he fled. He needed to find his way off the mountain, after all.

[natriae]

tw// mentions of injuries and cuts, nothing else that i can think of (lmk)

Being in a relationship with simon can be hard sometimes. He's gone for month's at a time leaving you with no knowledge of where he is or if he's even safe. You trust him, you do really, but this time around you've been noticing your anxiety spiking at random times.

Subconsciously praying no more horrible things happen to him. He won't tell you much, but if his insomnia and nightmares tell you anything it's that he's experienced a lot. More than just his family issues. You've caught your mind wondering off from work wondering if he's gotten enough rest, if he's eaten enough, or even if he misses you.

When you and Simon began dating you knew it would take a lot of emotional maturity to be with him. Things often worked out in your favor and the two of you never pushed each other for more, but watching your friend's cuddle up with their partners or holding hands cracks something in you. You don't even know when or if your boyfriend will be home.

Sleepless nights and your own supervisor noticing your lack of productivity. Your friend's take notice of your distress and beg you for a night out. You tell them you're tired and end the night tossing and turning in your bed. Weeks go by of the same routine, and Simon's pillow begans to lose his scent.

Eventually, one night in the middle of spring, the click of the lock being opened grabs your attention. Your body standing up wanting to run into his arms, but that's not the kind of relationship you and Simon have. You resort to standing in the entry way waiting for your big, burly man to walk through.

His short, dirty blond hair is messy on his head as a black mask covers his mouth and nose. You're surpised he's not wearing his baklava, but you've missed him far to much to care. Ghost was left back at the barracks, the man before you wears a black sweatshirt and balck tatical pants. His boots are muddy, but he doesn't make the effort to take them off quite yet. His duffle bag drops to the floor as he walks over to you.

One day you hope you'll be able to run and jump into his arms, but for now your okay with having him come to you. His left hand comes behind your head as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I'm going to get a shower, love" he gruff voice states before unlacing his boots and walking past you. That crack in your heart felt bigger now. You know you won't hurt him, he knows too, but PTSD doesn't just go away.

He loved your independence. He loved that you didn't need him to survive, and while that may be true now that you've been with him it you know how badly it hurts when he's not there. You don't want to be needy. You don't want simon to think your whiny, but if your not the right person for him you'd encourage him to find them. Yet the thought of leaving him brings would bring a gash on your heart that would never heal.

Walking to your shared room you grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for him to put on after his shower. Allowing him the option to cover any healing wounds. It's late and you know he wouldn't want you up worring.

Opening the bathroom door Simon finds you zoned out while grabbing your pajamas for the night. You hand aimlessly placed in the dresser draw while your eyes rarely blink. His large palm rests on your shoulder nearly scaring you half to death.

"love, is everything alright," his eyebrows furrow as he takes in your reaction. You know better then to lie him. He always knows.

You guide him to the edge of your bed and sit next to him. "Simon," you take a deep breath attempted to keep the tears at bay. "I missed you," you continue quietly looking down at you fidgeting hands. He waits for you to continue before speaking. " I just, this time was harder around," glancing up to see his expression you know he understands what your talking about. His rough hands cradle your face wiping the tears that escaped.

"I need you to tell me what you need," is all he said sound more like a command rather than comfort, but you know he's trying. He wants this to work out as much as you do.

"just..just hold me please,"

And at that he makes sure his arms curl around you as the two of you lay under the sheets. Your ear resting just above his heartbeat reminding you that he will always be here for you.

[cybertroniannugget]

Gift Giving Bumblebee x Reader

Dec 6

Look at that cute face

Fyi, I make sure to always use real lyrics for Bumblebee xD List at the end as proof.

Spotify is my best friend when writing Bumblebee.

As much as I love him, writing the bay version is tough. Always searching for lyrics that fit.

It's a little rushed, but better late than never right?

It's pure fluff

🎶Give it to me baby-Boots with the fur-tonight🎶1

“You want my boots?”

The yellow scout nods, pointing at your shoes.

“I mean sure, but why?”

🎶It's a wonderful surprise🎶2

“But that's no American tradition though.”

🎶Cuz I don't care🎶3

“So you wanna gift me something through St. Nicholas Day?”

🎶I love you, always forever🎶4

“Love you too, Bee. I'll give you my boots later, alright?”

He buzzes excitedly.

“Ey Bee, I need you on patrol with me.”, Jazz talks over the comm link.

Bumblebee’s antannae fold back and he whirrs a little annoyed.

You pat his cheek, smiling.

“I know, we rarely see each other, but this is important. I'll be here for a while.”

Another sad buzz echoes from his vocalizer, before he transforms and drives away.

Later in the evening you receive a message from Bee, asking you to put your boots outside your door.

“Okay, that's actually cute.”, you chuckle while walking outside.

Hearing someone round the corner you quickly walk back inside, leaving your shoes where Bee asked you to put them.

He has been busy lately with training under the new agreements between earth's government.

Daily exercises for the soldiers where they have to learn how to fight Deceptions.

And when he wasn't busy with that, he had to go on routine patrols.

When you wake up the next day, the first thing you do is checking outside to find your boots filled with Christmas chocolate and a note saying ‘I love you my honeybee’

Quick on your way back inside with the shoes in your hand, you put them down onto a chair, admiring what has been put in them.

“Oh, he even bought new headphones.”, you say, holding the packaging.

Taking your phone out of your pant's pocket, you dial the access code for his comm link, holding the device to your ear, waiting for him to respond.

“Bee, that's very cute, but you didn't have to do that..”, you say as he picks up with an excited buzz.

🎶I'm hopelessly devoted to you🎶5

“Where you at right now?”

🎶By the hangar🎶6

“Alright, wait for me there.”

A few minutes later, you walk into the wide open hangar where that yellow Bot you have grown to love stands waiting.

🎶Hello🎶7

“Hey there, Bee.”, you say smiling.

🎶How was it for you-Christmas present🎶8

“It was so sweet, thank you Bee.”, you say while walking up to him.

The scout crouches down to be more on your level and whirrs happily.

🎶Because I'm happy🎶9

You smile as you stand before him.

“So, gift giving?”

The scout buzzes confused.

“It's your love language.”

His optics widen, antannae standing up now as you said that.

“Don't worry, I love you too Bee. I figured something was up.”

Hugging him, as much as the size difference allowed, you couldn't stop smiling.

🎶You can be my safety zone-Nothing can come between You and I🎶10

You chuckle as you look at him, a hand on his cheek.

🎶You ready?🎶11

“Let's see how the others will react…”

Bee chuckles.

Here's the proof guys:

1 Pretty fly for a white guy-The Offspring

Low-Flo Rida

don't stop me now-Queen (obv)

2 Friday I'm in love-The Cure

3 I don't care- Ed Sheeran&Justin Bieber

4 I love you always forever- Donna Lewis

5 Hopelessly devoted to you- Olivia Newton John

6 Hangar- 8485

7 Hello-Adele

8 How was it for you-James, Christmas present- Doris Day

9 Happy- Pharrell Williams

10 The Ocean-Mike Perry & Shy Martin You and I- One Direction

11 Price Tag- Jessie J & B.o.B

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hiiii I'm back with another request. Minho x fem reader. So we are in the Glade and one day reader gets the idea for everyone to have a day of and play a game of capture the flag (if you dont know how to play that lets just play hide and seek). After BEGGING Alby for days he finally finds it a good idea and reader starts planning everything. The Gladers get put into two seperate teams while they play, Minho and reader leaders of each team CUZ WE'RE THE BEST OF THE BEST. Somehow in that game Minho and reader share some playful, aggressive, flirty, spicy/high tension moments that follow after the game as well as they get to talk about it later. Idk if it makes much sense but I'llleave the rest to your imagination ;)

YESSS I love me some flirty competition.

Also, sorry if I'm reusing gifs, this book does not get enough attention I stg.

FRIENDLY COMPETITION

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMERY: See above. Fem!Runner!Reader x Minho. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas. Based on the Glade layout in the Movies to make my life easier.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, spice content, some sexual tension (hopefully) and some good ol' competitive spirit.

It's finally happening.

Finally.

For the past few months, you've had the absolute perfect idea to raise spirits in the Glade.

It's simple but genuis- a game. And not just any game: Capture the Flag.

Alby kept saying that the Glade was fine, and that the Gladers didn't need a break- but after a particularly hard week, he caved.

Besides, if anyone could bring the Glade together and convince them to play along; it's you. Being the only girl means that the Gladers are practically climbing over each other to win your favour.

Sure, it can be kind of annoying and it greatly increases Alby's blood-pressure having to keep an eye on you. But, now that you're out in the Maze most days, having proved yourself worthy as a Runner, Alby sees you as Minho's problem more than his.

Not that Minho's complaining. He is your Keeper, after all.

He actually liked having you around. You push him to try harder, mainly because you're constantly reminding him that you're better than him. You are not better than him, you know that, but as long as Minho thinks someone is coming after his spot- he's going to try even harder.

Of course, Minho revels in the jealous looks and envy from the other Gladers for spending time with you. He enjoys seeing their faces when he comes back to the Maze, you by his side, having some kind of flirtationship about who actually got back first.

So, he might have a slight crush on you.

But, who doesn't?

Which is probably why when you brought your idea to him, he was surprisingly eager to join in.

You spent all week preparing. Including making war paint, coloured bandanas for the two teams, and, of course, the flags themselves.

Minho decides he's going to play team captain, making you both leaders of opposite sides. You'd be lying if you weren't excited.

Your competitive relationship is about to reach it's peak- and it's Minho. Come on, it's Minho. God, if he so much as looks at you with his dumb smirk for too long, your knees go weak and you want to dive on him then and there.

Yeah, you might have a thing for him. No one else has the balls to be as sarcastic or playful with you.

"Alright, you boys ready?" You stand in Council Hall, black bandana keeping your hair at bay with black stripes across your face and smeared around your eyes, creating a smokey eye effect.

You'd somehow managed to rope the other boys into it as well. Obviously, you have nearly half of the Glade on your team, but some notable members are Jeff, Gally and Frypan; with Newt, Winston and Zart choosing to side with Minho.

Alby has made the executive decision to dictate. Probably so he can make sure that no one gets injured in the flames of yours and Minho's fighting passion.

Whatever- you don't need them.

The flags are already hidden. The groups taking it in turns to find perfect places once you'd returned to the Glade for the day. You don't think the Runners have ever done their maps quicker.

You'd figured the most obvious place for a flag would be the Deadheads. And that's the first place your going to look. Minho might be quicker than you, but you're smarter.

So, obviously, you hide the black flag in a barn.

What? It's not like there's any rules saying you can't put the flags inside a building. And since one of the old barns isn't in use anymore since the Slicers opted to use more outside pens and a better constructed building nearer to the killing shack, there's an opportunity.

And you'd be a fool not to take it.

So, the Black flag is in the abandoned barn. And the White flag is yet to be found.

"Yes, ma'am," Gally responds, a lot of your team nodding in unison.

"We all know the plan?"

Another round of yes' and nods.

"Alright, let's do this!"

The rules are simple. The winner brings the opposing teams flag back to their territory. You've claimed Council Hall and the White team have the far corner, near the back of the Deadheads.

You made the choice to make the location of the flags unknown, mainly because Alby didn't want the whole thing to just be a massive fight. So, most of this is going to be trying to find the flags.

"You ready?" Alby pushes the door open and you grin at him.

"Shuck yeah."

You and your group let out war cries and chants as you make your way to the centre of the Glade. Night is starting to fall and with the Doors closed, it's all free game.

You're actually pleasantly surprised to see the other team has also gone along with you theatrics- mainly because Minho looks damn good.

He has similar fave paint to you, with the piece of white fabric tied to the belt hooks of his pants. He wears a simple tight black shirt with his signature backpack/harness. A change from his normal blue button-up.

He puts his fingers to his lips, letting out a loud wolf-whistle as you approach.

"You look good," he shouts, probably because you're wearing a tightish tank top that you normally leave for especially hot days.

"Likewise," you laugh. Your teams stand across from one another in the middle of the Glade. "You ready to lose?"

He scoffs, shaking his head, "Big words for a little girl."

"Don't try me."

"Alright," Alby already seems sick of this, even if he is hiding his amusement from watching his best Runners flirt. "You all know the rules- no violence, well, no bad violence at least, no playing dirty. And have fun- 'cause we ain't doin' this klunk again for a long time." He clears his throat. "Okay, let's get this over with. Three! Two! One! Go!"

You're not sure what Minho's plan is, but yours is cover as much ground as physically possible. Which is obvious when your entire team splits off in completely different directions. You all react so quickly that the White team doesn't move for a second.

Which is weird. But you know Minho is a tricky dude- you're not about to fall for it.

Your goal is, of course, the Deadheads, with Gally and a couple going in the same direction before cutting off. The woods are big, so it's good to have multiple pairs of eyes covering the ground.

Stumbling through the woods, you quickly come across the Map Room, which is the first place you decided to check out. Sure, Minho is smart enough to know this would be the first place you'd visit. So, he'd probably put the Whie flag there purely because he'd think you'd think it was too predictable.

Maybe you're reading too much into this.

Checking around the building, the door is very much locked. You look through the crack in the door and see nothing. You figured that putting the flag in the room is off the table since Alby would actually gut the Keeper if he dared turn their most important building into a game piece.

Realising this idea is dumb, you leave the Map Room be.

Making your way through the Deadheads, your heart jumps into your throat when you hear a twig snap. Spinning around, you hold you ground.

Suddenly, you are reminded of the very real threat of you being a girl alone in the woods in the dark.

"Hello?" Your voice wavers slightly. "Who's there?"

"Slim it, girly, who do you think?" The sound of Minho's voice as you turn and see him leaning against a tree eases you.

"Shuckin' hell, man, you tryna give me a heart attack?"

He shrugs. "If that's what it takes to win."

"There's no way I'm letting you win this."

"Oh, yeah?" He smirks, standing up straight.

"Yeah, you following me or some klunk?"

"I have better things to do," he scoffs.

"Doubt it." It takes you as second, but you realise that Minho came from the opposite way to you, which means he's either looking for your flag in here or- "wait, if you're here, and you're not following me, that means you're probably protecting your flag- then your flag has to be nearby."

Minho's face drops for a second. "You're think too much into that." You've known Minho for long enough that you can tell he's lying. His smooth facade slips and his voice becomes serious. Normally, he'd just laugh it off and call you the Glade equivalent to a dumbass.

But, not here. He's become visibly tense.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So, you won't mind if I... look around?" His jaw tenses, and he remains quiet. "'Cause I think I'm just gonna..."

With no warning, you break into a sprint, slipping past him before he gets a chance to catch you.

Though, you figure you're right when you hear Minho quick to run after you.

Ah shit.

Okay, so, you've raced Minho hundreds of times- more than you can count. But being chased by him?

That's terrifying.

Minho is absolutely faster than you. He's faster than everyone, and you suspect that even in your playful races, he's going easy on you.

But he's not now.

You shriek as he dives into you, sending you oth crashing to the forest floor. You roll a few feet, landing away from Minho as you mainly tripped with him flying over you.

After the initial shock, you scramble up, kicking leaves from under you. Minho is quick to do the same, and you adjust your stance; hands loose and protecting your face, one leg behind you.

Minho scoffs when he realises what you're doing- ready to fight him. He loosely shakes his arms, his smirk playful and full of sparks.

Despite how he's looking at you like a piece of meat, you can't afford to get distracted.

Lunging forward, he blocks you easily. You duck and swing like your life depends on it, catching yourself as you miss and fumble to the side.

You dive again, attmept to kick him, which he blocks, before trying to to punch him. Almost effortlessly, he grabs your wrist, taking you by surprise. It takes minimal effort from him to push you back, somehow managing to grab your other wrist and twisting it into his already used hand, leaving both your arms in the grip of one of his toned hands.

Your back hits the tree before you can even process what's happening, making you gasp at the contact. He pins your arms above your head, firmly holding you in place.

"You didn't seriously think you'd beat me, right?" His tone is dangerously calm and he's far too closer. Closer than he's ever dared be before.

You open your mouth, trying to think of anything to say, but heat beats against your skin as the moonlight breaks through the trees. The noise you make is a strange breathy hum, and Minho's grip loosens for a second when your eyes land on his lips.

Oh, God.

Minho can feel any power he had to begin with, slipping through his fingers when you look at him like that. Your dark-lined doe eyes make his heart beat faster, and it's such a subtle change but he's never seen you like this- so vulnerble; so under his control.

No words are exchanged as he leans closer. He can't help it, he's drawn to you. His grip almost loosens completely as his other hand brushes against your waist, sending a whole new wave of butterflies through you.

"Minho," you mumble and he swallows.

"Don't do that," he mutters equally as quiet, "don't say my name like that."

"How else would you like me to say it?"

He lets out a heavy breath. "Am I going to regret this?" It's obvious what he referring to, but you have a plan.

"Only one way to find out." He takes this as a yes, leaning further into you.

His lips ghost yours. But his grip is gone.

And you have a game to win. No matter how intoxicating Minho may be. Instead of leaning forward and kissing him, you rip hands away from him, shoving him hard in the chest.

Since you've taken him completely by surprise, he stumbles over himself and a branch, landing flat on his back.

You make no hesitation to make a real for it. Sprinting through the forest, you're kind of just running away from Minho over anything else. Looking over your shoulder like you're trapped in a horror movie, when in reality, everything in your body is screaming at you to turn around and rip Minho's clothes off.

Not fully paying attention, your foot snags on a tree root, sending you flying forward and down a hill. You plummet down, rolling and hitting the ground multiple times.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss, any pleasure from you interaction with Minho fading from your senses in an instant, immediately replaced with aching pain all over your body.

Forcing yourself to sit up and stop your head from spinning, you blink, before laughing outland to yourself.

In front of you, in all its glory, is the White flag, sticking out of the ground at a crooked angle. You struggle to stand up, limping slightly, grabbing the wooden handle and yanking the flag out of its spot in the mud.

Your victory is short-lived as crashing noises and snapping branches startle you, forcing you to retort to your defensive stance. It can't be Minho- unless he can teleport and sprint at you from the other direction.

That's made apparent when Gally comes thrashing through the greenery, falling into the greenery.

"Gally!" You hiss. "What the shuck, man?" He stares at you in awe, pointing at you, blinking as you approach, trying to keep your voice down as Minho could he close.

"You got the flag?"

It's now your turn to blink. "I got the flag."

"You got the flag!" You both laugh, high-fiving and pulling him to bump chests.

Then leaves crunch behind you.

"We should go." You state.

"Yeah, gotta go."

The pair of you start making your way out of the Deadheads, which goes about as well as you'd expect when you break through the greenery and someone on the White team immediately noticed.

"Hey!" They've got the flag!"

Fuck.

"Go! Go! Go!" You push Gally forward.

"I'm going! I'm going!"

All you have to do is get back to Council Hall. Easy- surely.

The pair of you start to book it through the open Glade, stumbling slightly and trying to dodge the White team from all angles.

Somehow, with an entire army behind you, you and Gally manage to cover solid ground. You're both very close to the Council Hall when you're rugby tackled from the left.

"(Y/N)!" Gally shouts your name as you're, once again, plastered to the floor, only for him to follow your lead.

You manage to shove the Glader off, kneeling him in the groin, scrambling on your hands and knees to grab the flag. Getting to your feet, you jump out of your skin when Minho blocks your way to the open door of Council Hall.

"Shit."

"Yeah," he swallows, looking like he's ready to pounce on you, "shit."

He's mad. God, is he mad. Though, he's also experiencing new frustrations more than he ever has before.

"Throw it!" Gally shouts, managing to just about stop someone from choking him. "Throw the shuckin' flag!"

Dipping to the side and swerving Minho, you javelin throw the flag, sending it flying straight through the doors.

You stand in shock, Minho staring at the door. Silence fills the Glade for a second before you hear Frypan cheer.

The entire Black team's chants and cheering echo off of the walls as Gally walks up to you.

"We won!" He laughs, throwing his arms around you as you hug him back, letting out a hearty laugh before Frypan, Jeff and some other team members join in.

They start cheating your name, the other team groaning but begrudgingly coming over to congratulate you.

You're too swept into your victory to even get a chance to talk to Minho until you're deep into your celebrations.

A bit tipsy, with enough liquid confidence to face him, you walk over. He's sat on his own, staring into the flames of the Celebratory Bonfire, a glass jar in his hands.

It's no shock to anyone that he's thinking about the evening's events. Mainly your interaction in the Deadheads.

He can't get it out of his head- the way you looked at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling, your hands held above your head; even just thinking about it is making his head go fuzzy.

"Hey," he's sucked out of his thoughts of you by, well, you as you approach him from behind.

"Hi," he sounds a mix of intrigued and irritated, like he wants to hear what you have to say- preferably an explanation.

"Figured I should come over," you say honestly as you swing your leg over the side of the log, straddling it as you face him.

"Did you, now?" His bitterness is painfully obvious and you roll your eyes.

"You're mad at me."

"Who said that?"

"No one had to say anything- you're sat here pouting and haven't spoken to me."

He scoffs, dropping his head. "I'm not pouting- I- I'm not even mad." He laughs, more at himself than you. "I can't believe I fell for it- shuck, that's the kinda klunk I'd pull if I could. I just- I didn't expect that from you. Still a dirty trick, though."

You suddenly feel anxious. "I didn't- it wasn't meant to be a trick." You stutter over your words, basically mumbling the last part as you drop your gaze, avoiding his.

"What?" He blinks at you and you shake your head.

"Doesn't matter- what did you think of my hiding place?" You change the subject, forcing a wicked grin to avoid the burning feeling you're starting to feel in your face.

"What do you mean?" He takes the bait, not wanting the awkward conversation anymore than you do- but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about.

"The Black flag? What did you think of my hiding spot?" Minho falls silent, his face dropping before turning into a sheepish grin, which tells you more than enough. "Oh, my God- you didn't find it, did you?"

"W-well, I didn't- I wasn't-!"

You let out a loud laugh. "Oh, my God," you repeat, "you don't know where it is!"

"I wasn't looking for the shuckin' flag! That was meant to me Newt's job- I was just tryna guard ours since I figured you'd go straight on the offensive."

"So, Newt didn't find it then?"

"'Course he shuckin' didn't." You snort at this. "Where is it then? Hm? Where've you hidden it, oh mysterious one?"

You stand up, swinging your other leg over and smiling down at him. "I think it's better if I show you- c'mon."

Minho shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, but he stands up, jogging to catch up with you as you walk away.

You lead him further through the Glade, your lack of presence not going unnoticed by the Gladers; especially Newt who forced Minho to explain why they lost.

Leading him to the old farm area, it's hard to see in the darkness, but you can still make out his puzzled expression. You grin devilishly as you reach the old barn, pushing open the door and playfully bowing.

The hole on the roof lets the moonlight, illuminating the ink-dark fabric of your skillfully crafted trophy.

"You gotta be shuckin' kidding me," he grumbles as he walks past you, towards the fall that takes pride of place, sticking out of a pile of old hay in the middle of the room. "The abandoned barn? Seriously?" He walks backwards, having spun around to face you.

"Yes, Sir," you joke as follow him, the loose door slamming behind you without your weight on it.

"Sneaky son of a bitch," Minho laughs to himself. "I woulda never thought of this." He turns back around, walking closer to the flag.

"I know," you skip after him, slipping your hands into the back pockets of your baggy pants as you rock on your heel once you reach him. "'That's why I did it. You might have the looks, Boss, but I've got the brain." You playfully point at your temple as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

"You think I've got the looks?" You blink at him, his tone now flirty.

"That's not what I meant," you're quick to take it back.

"Oh, yeah?" He turns towards you stepping forward, and you refuse to be a coward and step back, so you hold your ground. "What? Just another dirty trick then, hm?"

You grimace. "It wasn't a dirty trick."

He steps closer. "What was it then?"

"That wasn't meant to happen," your voice lowers as your breath hitches, feeling that same powerlessness you experiences before, except he's yet to lay a single finger on you. "That wasn't planned."

"That doesn't answer my question, does it?"

"Minho.."

"I've already warned you about that."

"About what?"

"Saying my name like... that. Looking at me like that; I can't take it." He closes his eyes, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath.

"What are you trying to say here?"

"You're joking, right?" He pulls his head back to look at you again. "Do you seriously expect me to spend every day with you- competing, flirting, challenging me, and for me to not be attracted to you? I thought I made that pretty obvious." A beat passes as you try to process the new situation you're in.

"You have no idea how it feels watching every guy here want you, blindly listen to you, just because they'd do anything to have you- when I'm just as bad. But I know you, better than any of these shanks do. You don't want someone who will bend to your will and worship the ground you walk on; you want someone that'll push back a bit, someone who will give what they can take. Right? Because I don't know what to do anymore and if you hadn't made a break for it earlier, I would've, I could've- I don't know what I- shuck it! We wouldn't be friends anymore, that's for sure."

You've seen Minho like this. You never heard Minho like this. He sounds almost desperate, his voice is deep, and you can smell the musky scent of earth and natural soap off of him.

"I don't even know what I'm saying here. I don't wanna mess this up but I cant fucking take this anymore. I just-"

You cave, leaning in and silencing him as you lips press to his. It's a quick peck more than anything as you pull away again. "You talk too much," you mutter.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, eyes dipping into you before he pushes forward. Kissing you again, his hands fly to your waist, pulling you close and making you gasp.

Your hands come to his hair, allowing him to grasp at you, his fingers kneading into the skin of your hips under your shirt. He pushes you backwards, hitting your back against one of the fragile beams.

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part yours in response, allowing your tongues to brush for a second. You repeat the motion, the make-out session becoming more hungry and needy. You drop your arms, pulling at the hem of his shirt instead but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head once again.

He leaves your lips, making you whimper as he feathers kisses up your jaw, coming up to your ear. He kisses your tragus, letting himself move further down and pulling your lobe between his teeth. You let out a gasp, arching into him before he suddenly sinks his teeth into your neck.

Well, sinks is too strong of a word, but his teeth brush against the sensitive flesh as he kisses it before starting to suck on it, undoubtedly marking you- almost like he's claiming you.

He repeats the action as he moves further down.

Your eyes flicker around, and for some reason, the hay and the slight breeze and the still-standing flag makes you chuckle.

"What?" His breathing is heavy and his voice is rough and scratchy, but he continues.

"Minho?" You properly get his attention, sounding equally as drunk on lust.

"Yeah?"

"We're not having sex in a barn."

He freezes, pulling away from your neck as he blinks at you. "Huh?"

"We are not having sex in a barn," you repeat, starting to smile slightly.

"Right, yeah," he seems to come to his senses, releasing your wrists before he snorts. You can't help but laugh too, resulting in the pair of you giggling in the middle of the empty room.

"Shuck," he mumbles, "the hell's gotten into me?" This makes you giggle more, then you leans forward again, pecking him on the lips as you drape your arms around his shoulders, and he lets his fall to your waist.

"Though, we... we could go to my hut?" You bite your bottom lip as a sly smirk starts to creep across his face.

"Yeah? You sure?"

You nod. "Couldn't be more so."

Yooo, back again with some Minho spice. This was really fun to write and I love writing some tense flirty competition- which of course means I want to write an Enemies to Lovers with Minho but I don't quite have the idea. Any suggestions?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :))

[mosneakers]

With a sudden "POOF!" A frenzied bat emerges from a thick cloud of black smoke, in the middle of Mira's office, promptly morphing into the stoic, pale figure that is Tatiana Salas.

Tatiana: Sweetheart, you know your father used to say, "too much sugar will rot your teeth!"

Mira: Mom? What are you doing here? ...Uninvited? How the hell did you get in? I know I have garlic strung above the entrance...

Tatiana pauses, then perches on the edge of the coffee table.

Tatiana: It's astonishing what some of these Sparrow children can be persuaded to do for the right price. You weren't... trying to keep me away... were you?

Mira feels her stomach flip.

Mira: No, Mom, I wasn't trying to keep you away. The garlic is just a Spooky Day decoration. Although, now I'm considering making it a permanent fixture, if you're going to make a habit out of showing up unannounced.

Tatiana: [Chuckles] Mira, what secrets are you harboring that my spontaneous arrivals cause you such distress? Your wife is in Brindleton Bay, for her Grandfather's birthday, isn't that right? Or could it be, you're concerned about me stumbling upon something between you and the eldest Sparrow daughter?

Mira: [Without missing a beat] I don't know what you're talking about.

Tatiana: Mira, I am no fool. You've abandoned our family business to work for hers. She's very recently taken on your surname.

Mira: She's a Darling, too. She changed her last name to honor her Grandparents.

Tatiana: Right after you adopted the Darling name? My dear, she's a prominent public figure, and she isn't exactly discreet about her name change. Mira, her photograph is framed on your beautifully constructed piano shelf. It's high time to be honest with me, Mira.

Mira: I... [sigh] Alright. There's been something between us for a while, and, well, we recently married in Tartosa.

Tatiana: Tartosa? Are you implying this occurred during your honeymoon with Coraleye?

Mira: Yes mom. But it's not some scandalous affair or whatever, okay? Coraleye knows all about it, and we have an understanding.

Tatiana: I see. But your marriage with Coraleye remains stable, correct?

Mira: Yes mom, of course.

Tatiana: Mira, as long as this arrangement doesn't threaten your union with your wife, then I support it wholeheartedly. In fact, I see it as a progressive step, aligning with the values I advocate for in my campaign for diverse families.

Mira: [Sigh] You're right. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. It's just that this whole situation feels so high stakes, and I knew it was important to you.

Tatiana: I understand where you're coming from, sweetheart. I apologize for any pressure I may have put on you... Always remember, you can confide in me about anything. You know, in our pre-revival era, we had a distant uncle who entered a polygamous marriage. He, too, married a set of cousins.

Mira: Wow, really? Did he live a happy life with them?

Tatiana: No, not at all. The cousins fought constantly, leading the uncle to take his own miserable life, then the cousins killed one another in a fit of rage.

Mira: I refuse to accept that as foreshadowing.

[bunnystalker]

trust

comforting albert proves difficult.

on days when you have work early, albert wakes up with you. when he's working late, you stay awake until he gets home.

you both do little things for each other. it helps to keep insecurities at bay.

when you're insecure, he holds you and tells you all the things he loves about you.

albert doesn't say anything when he's insecure. he shies away from your touches and becomes cold. bit by bit, he tries to push you away until he can't.

"al, honey," you'd say as you sit on the couch beside him. he's reviewing a file from the R.P.D., his glasses off and set on the side table to his left.

"yes, dear?" he doesn't look at you, icy blues roaming the file with disinterest and boredom. his posture is unkempt, his hair slightly ruffled.

without warning, you take the file from his hands and set it aside. he looks annoyed at that but he refuses to say anything. his brows furrow, his lips pursed, but no words come out as he turns towards you.

"talk to me."

"talk about what, my love?" pointed. frustrated. hurt.

"something's wrong. don't tell me there isn't." as gentle as can be, you cup his cheek. he flinches before leaning into your hand, a soft sigh leaving him.

"it- i don't- please, dear, don't patronize me," he keeps his eyes off of you. his voice is less frustrated, more downtrodden and hesitant. the fact that he doesn't trust you hurts. you thought he'd be past this by now.

"albert, you know that's not what i want to do. i could never." you insist, your thumb stroking his cheek. he reaches up to take your wrist and moves your hand away. it falls to his thigh.

this is, unfortunately, routine when it comes to these episodes. he rejects touch and affection. this time, you're a bit frustrated.

"albert, honestly. you can't keep pushing me away." you sigh and pull away, lying back on the couch. the air remains tense. there's little point in trying to get through to him when someone's as stubborn as he is. he does feel bad for pushing you away. it's hard to change learned behavior.

the conversation is over. you turn on your side and rest your head on the plush throw pillow tucked into the corner of the arm and the cushion. it's silent until albert lies on his side behind you, his arm around your waist. given that he's taller than you, his chin rests just above your head. he kisses your head and buries his nose in your hair.

"i'm sorry, darling. don't be too upset at me, please?" he murmurs, and your cheeks tint pink. he's sickly sweet.

"you don't trust me. can you blame me for being upset about that?" you ask, your voice as soft as his.

he squeezes you softly.

"i trust you, i do, my dove. i wouldn't be with you if i didn't." he's always been a good liar.

"i love you, darling. trust me on that." he kisses your cheek, your temple, your jaw- anything to put you at ease.

"al, don't- you just- god, you're confusing." you don't push him away because you enjoy his undivided attention, his affection.

"i know, i'm sorry. i don't mean to be." he's very much a cat. not like he knows how to be much else, though.

you remain silent for a moment, which worries him. you're supposed to be comforting him, but here you are, being comforted. you turn to lie on your back, looking up at him. he sits himself up on his elbow as you scoot up a little to be level with him.

"let me be there for you, just this once. we don't need to talk, just let me comfort you." you take his hand and lace your fingers together. he's quiet, eyes wandering your face as if looking for some sign of betrayal or mockery.

"...alright. if it means that much to you."

"it does." with that, albert shifts so he's lying on top of you, his face buried in the nape of your neck. here, he can hear the rhythmic humming of your pulse, smell your skin, feel the rise and fall of your breathing. your arms wrap around his middle. his shoulders drop their tension as he relaxes in your hold. you rub his upper back, making him sigh in relief. your hands are warm through the blue button-down he's wearing, still not quite out of his work uniform. his vest was set aside a long time ago when he got home, his cargo pants traded out for pajama pants despite not changing into full pajamas, given that he got side-tracked with excess work.

"thank you." he mumbles against the skin of your neck. you're content to hold him until he attempts to pull away, but he never does. you're sure he's purring on the inside.

[mxssingmemories]

hi hi hiiii juleeees can i pleaseee get a tony stark x daughter!reader where they're sick or smtj idk i have mild conjunctivitis rn amd it sucks ☹️ so maybe just smth wherr tony takes care of reader and gets cheeseburgers for them ot smth (im sorry if this is too big i love uu)

Burgers

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary: you're sick, and you scare the shit out of your dad. Fluff and burgers ensue.

Warnings: mention of not eating due to sickness, passing out, sickness in general

Word Count: 480, just a short lil blurb I'M SO SORRY

A/N: ASH!! HI!! this was so sweet to write, tysm for the request lovie

The sound of loud coughing startled Tony into consciousness, his heart immediately speeding up. He jumped out of bed, running to your room-prepared to find anything and everything. His panic subsided almost instantly, though. He ran in to find you bent over on your bed, in the middle of an awful-sounding coughing fit. He stepped next to your bed, sending a reassuring smile as he sat down next to you.

“You alright, sweetie?” he asked, softly rubbing your back.

“Yeah, dad,” was what you tried to say, but you ended up coming into another coughing fit before you could say a single word.

“Easy, okay, breathe through it,” he coached, worried lines showing through on his face. Luckily, you were too busy hacking up a horse to notice. He hated you seeing it when he was worried. Even in times like these, he wanted his entire focus to be on you. 

The fit steadily got worse, and Tony did his best to get you through it.

“Fri, can you tell Bruce what’s going on? I’m gonna bring her down to the medbay,” was the last thing you heard before everything went black; the stress on your body too much for you to keep up with.

“Oh god,” Tony exclaimed, immediately picking you up in his arms and rushing to the elevator. The ride down to the bay felt like an hour, even though it was only two minutes. When the doors finally opened, Bruce rushed to his side, eyes widening when he realized you weren't conscious. 

“What happened?” Bruce asked as you were rushed into a room, him already hooking up your vitals in less than two seconds.

“I-I don’t know. One minute she was coughing a lot and then she just,” he paused to wipe his nose on his sleeve,”passed out.” 

"Okay, so I'm not seeing anything serious. It looks like pink eye? She doesn't need to be in the hospital right now, Tones," he assured, smiling when all the tension drained out of his best friend's body.

As soon as Bruce finished talking, your eyes fluttered open, confusion masking your face. Tony reassured you as quickly as he could, and a few minutes later, you were riding down to the garage. He decided he wanted to take you to get some fast food-it was his cure-all for stressful days with you.

As you pulled up to the McDonald's line-"Why are we even here," being said about fifteen times from your dad- you laidd your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes close. Your breathing evened out, but Tony woke you up when you got your food.

"Thanks, dad," you smiled, digging into your food. You still felt like absolute shit, but you hadn't eaten in almost a day thanks to your illness. You could have sworn that was the best burger you'd had in your whole life.

[locallixie]

Hiiiii💗💗 could you do a stray kids reaction to someone shady walking up to their s/o and their Doberman or Rottweiler goes to protect them? 😭💗

fluffy bodyguard ; boyfriends/husbands!stray kids' reactions.

🖇—... boyfriends/husbands!stray kids' reactions to their dog protecting their s/o.

✧.* 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ; fluff, soft, boyfriend!stray kids, husband!stray kids, established relationship au, married au, gn!reader.

✧.* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; pet names.

bang chan—...

Like the attentive husband he is, he rushes inside as soon as he felt your cold hands brushing against his. Leaving you confused with your little Rottweiler standing outside the door.

You were cold, you supposed, 'cause your cold hands never really bothered you so much. You thought you were born with naturally cold hands. But guess that didn't sit well with your husband.

"Are you cold, little guy? With all that fur of yours, I don't think this weather stands a chance." You smiled at your dog, Camy. Despite being a 'agressive' breed, Camy is such a sweetheart. An anniversary gift from your husband.

A guy that obviously look out-of-place started walking up to you from across the street, you have never seen him walking around your neighborhood, something was up.

"Hey, you there. Can I have a word—?" Camy began barking, walking on his little paws to be in front of you. The guy took a step back as Camy scared him away from laying a finger on you.

"Hun, are you alright, that guy was looking at you weird from the begining." Chan finally came back with your winter coat and scarf, he placed his hand on your back to reassure you that he's there.

"Little Camy's here protecting me when you're away." You told, seeing his short tail wagging from side to side in joy.

Chan ruffled his head, "Oh, he did? What a good boy!"

lee know—...

Why need a dog? Minho is already dangerous enough to scare strangers and creeps on the streets away. He perfered cats over dogs anyways.

But...he just couldn't say 'no' when it comes to you. And when he said choose any, he was not prepared when you chose the most agressive breed of dog in the pet shop.

His three cats at home already thinking about teaming up to take their new sibling down, like father, like children.

He would trained it, like what its breed was mostly used for. Service work, guarding work. Trained it so it can protect you when he's not there beside you.

Out in the open, and he already see a weirdo walking up to you. "Ahem, are we gonna have a problem here?" Minho stepped in before the stranger gets too close to you. The Doberman standing beside her owner, a chain around her neck to keep her at bay.

"Look man, I'm just talking to—" They began but was quickly cut off by your boyfriend.

"To my partner, yeah, I know. I can't help but notice that they're not enjoying your company." He held the chain loosely in his hand, "So I advise you to back off, before I feed you to Nari."

"Dude—" Nari barked loudly, poking her neck toward the stranger as a way to intimidate them.

Minho's gaze held fire, "Get lost."

changbin—...

You had your Rottweiler ever since you were little, you're glad that she is still with you 'til this day. She bark at almost everyone, especially people who just simply look suspicious. She was trained to protect you since day one, she looks after you a lot before you started dating.

Dokki barked at Changbin the first few times she met him, that was when you just began going out with him. Now married to the guy, she probably loves him more than you.

But you feels safe going outside with Dokki, being an anxious individual that you are, people absolutely terrified you. Still, you would take her with you and your husband when going on walks.

Changbin is jealous yet happy to see Dokki chasing off randos out in public for you. Jealous that he was supposed to be the one protecting you, happy that he won't have to worry when you're out without him with you.

Guy would probably bicker with your dog to be your personal bodyguard. 100% would fight for your affection if he feels like your dog is hogging too much of it.

hyunjin—...

You, your boyfriend of three years, and your two house doggies. Kkami and Todo get along with each other well, sometimes their playing gets a bit too physical but most of the time they're fine.

A long-haired Chihuahua and a Doberman was a interesting mix to say the least. One small, one big. Kkami, surprisingly, was the more agressive one towards strangers.

"Todo, Kkami~ Where are you, babies?" You called them, holding the leashes in hand as you are about take them out for a walk. Hyunjin is currently getting home from work, so it's just you and your two dogs for the time being.

The two came running out from inside the house, all excited to be outdoor after being stuck in isolation the whole day.

You didn't get far until you felt a presence, dragging behind you closely. Todo acted before you could react, almost tripping you with the leash. Barking violently, then biting at the stranger's pants.

"Bad dog! Bad dog! Let go off me, control your dog!" Todo completely ripped a piece of fabric of the poor creep. Take it as a warning! Stay away, or else.

Standing there, still processing things, with your Doberman chewing on a piece of fabric that he just ripped out from a stranger's pants. You were so stuck that you didn't notice your boyfriend coming to you.

"Hey baby, how was your— What is Todo chewing on?" He too would be surprised just as you were, maybe even more than you. At least his child made him proud by protecting his soon-to-be spouse.

han—...

He was scared to bring Bbama over for playdate with your dog, that maybe your dog might devour his. You assured him that it is unlikely to happen, your Rottweiler was a trained yet friendly dog so he have nothing to worry about. Either way, he should get used to her, 'cause you two are getting married soon.

You held him close as you two strolled together in the park with your two dogs. "Baby, that guy is looking at you weird." He whispered to you.

You kept walking, and the guy kept following you both. What does he want from you? Can't he see that Jisung is walking with you, and is your fiancé? You took your left hand out of your pocket, hopefully your engagement ring might discourage him.

"You there," The guy finally approached you, and to you directly. "Looking real fine, can I—" Maxi barked first, which pushed Bbama to bark with her.

The man tried to pet Maxi, "Sir, please don't pet my dog." Your fiancé warned, Jisung trying his best to remain calm in situation like this.

Maxi growled, and barked, getting the creep to leave you alone. Or she'll might just bite his finger off.

Jisung petted her head, her rough fur brushing on his soft palm. "Thanks for the help, girl."

felix—...

He doesn't care what you are bringing home, he probably finds a way to love it wholeheartedly. He thought your 'scary' Doberman was so adoreable, and you were just exaggerating things to make your dog look bad.

So cute and so well disciplined. He almost never see Chase even remotely close to scary at all. But at times that he did, Chase can be so hostile towards a selective group of people, especially when he's out with you.

Someone shady is coming to harass you? Don't worry, Chase is here to bite their entire hand off! The growling, the barking, the threatening stance. All here to keep creeps away from you when Felix is unavailable.

"[Y/N], shouldn't we give them a warning? I mean, Chase is kind of a threat." Felix asked, holding your hand in his after he found you trying to keep your dog away from murdering a guy that was making you uncomfortable.

You stared at your boyfriend, "If Chase hates them, there's probably a reason why, Felix."

seungmin—...

Guy is already quite terrifying when he's angry, then add a equally terrifying dog. You are walking around with scary dog privileges, ain't nobody messing with you whenever you're out on the streets surrounded by strangers.

If your husband is too occupied to cuss out creeps that keep disturbing your peace, your Rottweiler got you covered. He will do anything to make his owner happy, maybe even resorting to violent.

"Please leave me alone, I just want to get home." You told to the drunk guy that insisted you get a drink with him. You lost your husband while walking on the streets, and now you're freaking out.

Your calls are finally answered, "Get the hell away from my partner!" Your husband with Haebi on a leash, and they were mad.

"On the count of three, or I'm letting my dog eat you. One...two..." The drunk guy quickly ran away, stumbling all over the places. The anger on Seungmin's face was still very visible, and his grip on the leash tightened.

"Uh, hello? Where did you go? Haebi and I've been looking everywhere for you." Your husband is a lot scarier than your dog, in your opinion at least. He's sweet, but damn does he make you worried for your life sometimes.

i.n—...

Solid guy, not really wanting to get into confrontation with strangers out in public. He finds it adoreable that your large Doberman was acting as your bodyguard everytime you're outside.

He likes being the strong, heroic boyfriend that protect you, but sometimes it's just nice to sit back and watch your dog scaring sketchy people away from you.

Of course, he can't let Solli take his job and replace him as your protection. He want to 'save' you when he can, with Solli as a extra helping hand. Or paw?

"We work well together, right Solli?" Jeongin asking your dog, after intimidating some rando by just standing there with Solli growling at them.

[blueparadis]

itoshi sae 🤍

SAE OH DEAR LORD I"M SMILING SO WIDE. alright i need to get it together.

itoshi sae and first white day from v-day event.

Sae never thought he would receive gifts from you and that too on valentines day. Although he appreciates your sentiment but what actually made him buy a gift for you for white day was your straight forward behavior. At first he thought, you are just blunt.

But here he is, with a runny nose and the muffler wrapped around his neck that you gifted him, his hands inside the pocket of his jacket as he exhales strongly before pressing the doorbell. He is so embarrassed about the fact that he is here. in front of your house in this weather. It is nearing to midnight. He plays with the snow that settled outside your home still thinking if he can take a U-turn, thinks if he is allowed to do so . . .

The doorknob clicks. He looks up and sees you in your night dress and some homely warm clothes. "How long have you been standing here? oh dear god. why? is the doorbell not working? why didn't you call me or a text . . .? my phone was with me . . ."

He thinks you're gonna wake the whole colony up with that melodious voice of yours. Five minutes still left to struck 12 and make it 14th March. The reason he is here. He takes his left hand out of his pocket and presses it on his lips. Its silent now. pin-drop silence. you're not talking anymore suddenly being aware of your childlike demeanor.

Okay, now what? he thinks.

"wh-whe-he clears his throat "where are you going at this hour?", he asks as loud as he could get but his voice just won't turn up. Gosh! he has never been so nervous; he has played tons of matches but this? this is tearing at the seams of his heart.

"Sae.", you whisper. "you're hiding something. what is it? tell me. now." and you point towards his right hand that is till inside the pocket.

"It's nothing."

"nothing. . .?", you sounded sad, disappointed and his heart suddenly sinks at the pit of his stomach to see you like that, hurt.

He shakes his head and tries to avert every little eye contact because he thinks, he feels you are gonna see the color of his soul, so in love and so . . . nervous.

"ah- gift. gift. It's a gift." and he feels a little light headed but better when you flash him a toothy grin while wriggling one of your eyebrows. This. This is why he is here. This is what he likes about you, the act of being invested in something without expecting something back. You did not ask the obvious. Perhaps because you harbored a little vulnerability at some corner of your heart, what if . . . what if its not you.

Guess you are not that blunt like he thought he would be. you keep him calm, at bay.

"here.", he extends his right hand that held a small box gift wrapped so neatly. You glance at him but he is not looking. And when you open it, your voice turns up again, " but its so costly." It actually is costly, compared to what you have gifted him a month ago. It's a pendant.

"y/n-ugh-", he exhales into his muffler. "i'm actually freezing right now. can i come inside?" You nodded. He is just not in state of registering anything other than your presence, your voice, your touch. . . . you. While he walked into your house, you walked into his life, his four chambers of his heart.

notes- pls look away. very much embarrassed that it got so long. ughhhhh! why? why he does this to me? wc-0.5 oh shit.

@tokyometronetwork

[dailyreverie]

nuzzle or care with organa!reader and poe please 💞

Care

Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe, but can be read as a stand-alone

A/N: I said to myself "oh sure a quick hurt/comfort blurb" and then it turned into 1k words. I'm not sorry. Anyway, thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy it! (Also I realized the reader should be Solo, not Organa, so I'm making that change starting now...)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader

Word Count: 1k words

CW: Hospital setting, mention of injuries and canon-typical violence.

SERIES MASTERLIST

It was never easy to hear that Poe was at the med bay. You had joined the General briefly after your duties with your squad, once she had summoned you, and once you knew Poe was back; the news of his return, though, came with an unexpected announcement: “I had to sent him there,” your mother had said. “After he described what happened he had to get checked.”

Naturally, you rushed there. It was stupid to deny the amount of worry you were going through had nothing to do with the blossoming feeling you had for the pilot, feelings you were doing your best to hide, and feelings you were sure were probably too obvious to anyone who had ever seen you both talking.

You found Poe on one of the nurse stations, sat on the bed like a scolded child as a nurse did a check-up. As you approached him the damage done on his face became more visible, twisting your stomach with every step you took.

“What are you doing here?” You asked himas the nurse kept checking on his injuries.

Poe, after a deep breath that seemed to be holding every ounce of pain, replied. “Just hangin’” You could only roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms against your chest. “We were ambushed, and we were not expecting explosions. Hit my head a bit there and the General sent me here.”

“I’m guessing you found the First Order?” Your question came quickly since thinking about an ambushed and injured Poe on a mission would make your stomach turn even more.

“We found an outpost, a couple members of the squad stayed behind to track the next system they’re heading to.” The nurse tilted his head up to clean up his neck, full of burn marks and bruises, and the motion made his eyes close as he looked up. You took the chance to take a step closer, unable to stay so far away from him anymore. “I had to get back to inform the General and get some repairs done on Black One. Flying with the ship after how it ended would’ve been completely useless.”

The nurse turned to soak the towel again, and right before she could place it on Poe again you stopped her arm with a soft touch to her arm. “I got it from here, I need to ask a few more questions.” She only eyed between you and him, as if making sure you knew what you had to do. You shared a quick smile and with that, she was gone.

Ignoring Poe’s drilling gaze you soaked and twisted the towel before taking a final step closer to him. The need to make sure he was alright was killing you - to touch him and feel that he was fine. With a hand behind his neck, you held his head as he tilted it back again, letting you continue the work. “Are you okay?” You finally asked. It wasn’t typical for high-ranked officers around base to be so emotional, to care so deeply about colleagues - let alone a Lieutenant, much less the General’s daughter; if anyone saw you getting so close to him the rumors would start flying like crazy.

Poe could’ve replied anything, a bunch of teasing questions came to mind - Was that the question you needed to ask? Is that why you came rushing here? for example - but when he looked at you, with your hands so carefully cleaning his face, and your eyes looking at him with this sweetness behind them, all he saw was a true feeling of care, of wanting to confirm that he was safe, he couldn’t be sarcastic to you like that. 

He looked for your gaze just by looking up at you, and once he found it he smiled softly and replied: “I’m okay.” 

“Good.” You were able to smile, letting out your worries through a sigh. Your fingers guided his head to the side in a slow movement, letting you see the loud bruise that was starting to turn his temple a mix of purple and red. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts a little.” With a grimace, you turned his head to the original position and started looking for an ice pack in the small cooler at the med station. “I’m sorry if I worried you.” He spoke as you kept looking.

“Please, don’t apologize. As if you don’t have enough on your plate already.” With a couple of ice packs you approach him again. You could see from his hooded eyes that he was in pain, and that he was never going to admit it, so you helped him the best way you knew how. With one pack on his neck and the other one on his temple, Poe audibly sighed and finally relaxed, closing his eyes and leaning against your hand.

“Oh, Maker- You are a saint aren’t you?”

“Barely,” You chuckled. “I just used to watch Mom clean up my brother after practices… or fights.” Poe opened his eyes to look at you in surprise. In the few months since you’ve known each other, your brother had never been mentioned before. “Ice packs were always on our fridge, life-savers, he called them once.”

“Guess that teaches you a thing or two.” Poe said with caution, not really sure if he could ask more about your brother or not.

“It does.” You met his eyes for what felt like hours and smiled, a tiny, discreet smile that only showed up for him. During that smile you noticed he began to get sleepy, maybe the pain had left or maybe it was the hit he took, anyways, you could not risk it. “I’m sending the nurse back in, don’t want you falling asleep on me with a possible concussion.”

“Hey-” As you removed the ice from his body and began to turn around, he grabbed your wrist quickly to not let you get away. It took him a beat when he saw you looking at him with worry again. “Thank you.” Poe whispered, his eyes lighting up like a thousand stars.

Your free hand reached his hair and pushed it back with soft fingertips. “Anytime.” You replied in the same way, with a whispered promise that said you would always, always, be sure he is alright.

🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[bonobonoyaatheart]

Video Call - Yang Jeongin

Summary : You're out on tour, and you both miss each other like crazy. You overwork yourself as distraction, which worries Jeongin. His video calls become the solution to all this.

Genre: Angst, Fluff.

Pairing: Non idol Jeongin x fem idol reader

It had been a whole week since you had embarked on your tour, and you found yourself missing him desperately. This was your first tour since the two of you had started dating, and he occupied your thoughts constantly. In an attempt to distract yourself, you poured all your energy into your work, which slowly morphed into an alarmingly unhealthy obsession.

His state of mind mirrored yours. He was going crazy in your absence, and your only contact had been through calls and simple texts. He had attempted a few video calls, but your schedule had been too demanding to spare even a moment.

The fans' ecstatic cheers reverberated in your ears as the magnificent performance concluded. Your head was spinning, and the stage lights dimmed. Exhaustion enveloped you entirely, and you observed everything fading into darkness, aware of your fellow members rushing to your side.

"Y/Nie, can you hear us?" "Get some water!" "Quick, take her backstage!" "Y/N needs rest!" "Hey, wake up!" "Should we call for external oxygen?" "Help me support her!"

Panicked voices of your fellow members filled the air as they relocated you to a makeshift medical room backstage. After some time, you slowly opened your eyes to find your fellow members gazing at you with deep concern. "She's awake, Unnie! Y/N is awake!" Mia called out to Jieun, and one by one, everyone gathered around.

Suddenly, your phone rang, and it was Jeongin on a video call. Aecha answered the call. "Unnie, please, don't mention today to Jeongin. Don't say anything, please," you implored. "Speak sparingly, kid. Just rest. We'll handle everything else," Mia instructed Aecha, who then accepted the call.

"Hey, guys! What's everyone up to? Where's Y/N?" Jeongin asked cheerfully. Aecha turned the camera towards you. "Your stubborn girlfriend overexerted herself and fainted after the performance," Seojun stated, glaring at you. "She doesn't listen to us, Jeongin, so please talk some sense into her," Mia said with genuine concern.

You were incredibly tired, not awake enough to engage with him at that moment. "How is she now? I know she can be stubborn sometimes, but all of this worries me even more," Jeongin expressed. "Three more days in Brazil," Jieun mentioned. "Don't worry; we'll take care of her."

"I trust you guys, but it's hard for me here. I already miss her so much, and situations like these keep me up at night," Jeongin admitted, his voice softening.

"We understand, Jeongin, but don't stress. We've got her back," Mia assured him with a gentle smile. "Yes, I'm sure you'll do great. Anyways, bye! Good night!" Jeongin bid your bandmates farewell, and the call ended.

The next day, you refrained from participating in the choreography, and your members texted Jeongin after the concert. Within a few minutes, you received a video call from him.

"Hey, babe, how are you feeling now? Did you get some rest?" Jeongin inquired, genuinely concerned. "Yeah, my members practically forced me to rest and sleep. I had nothing to do for half the day, which was the worst part," you replied. Jeongin's expression grew somber. "It's okay, baby. You need proper rest after everything you've put yourself through."

"But, Innie, I can't stop thinking about you and us and all those things. Working extra hard at least keeps those thoughts at bay. I miss you so much here; it feels like I can't function without you," you admitted, tears threatening to spill over. Your breathing grew heavier as you fought back the urge to break down.

"Hey, look at me. Baby, I miss you too. It's alright. Breathe. Take deep breaths; I'm right here," Jeongin reassured you, his heart aching as he watched your tears flow. "Y/Nie, it's only a few more days, okay? Baby, look at me." Jeongin couldn't help but feel guilty for not being there with you.

"Am I making you sad too? I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you hurriedly wiped away your tears. "I shouldn't make it harder for both of us."

Jeongin quickly dismissed your apology. "Don't apologize, baby; it's alright." "I guess I should hang up, or I'll cry even more." Before Jeongin could respond, you ended the call. He sighed, unable to bear watching you suffer alone any longer.

The following day, he video called you once again, but this time, he had changed the background. You had just finished your fifth performance, and your mood was genuinely uplifted. "Hey, what are you up to? You know the performance was incredible. We didn't expect such an overwhelming response from the fans. They were screaming the entire time. But what's with the flowery background?"

"Just for you, baby; you're my flower," Jeongin said, flashing you an ear-to-ear smile. "Don't be too cheesy, boy," you teased, marveling at how easily he could make you blush. "Why, do you like it?" Jeongin burst into hearty laughter. "So what are you going to do now that you're done rocking the stage?"

"Nothing much, I'll probably just rest and chill. We don't have much scheduled for tomorrow," you replied, smiling. "That's great!" Jeongin exclaimed.

"Jeongin, are you walking somewhere? Where are you?" you asked with a hint of suspicion. "Oh, that... I'm just heading to the grocery store, nothing special," he replied with a small smile. "Are you doing alright?" He inquired, "Well, I still miss you terribly, Innie," you confessed.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "Wait, I'll open it," you said. "Just a second, baby, someone's here." Jeongin gave you a thumbs up. You opened the door to find Jeongin standing there, a broad smile on his face, still on video call. "Surprise!" he cheered.

"You... Jeongin... for real?" You were stunned, overwhelmed by the sight of your boyfriend, arms wide open for a hug. You rushed into his embrace. "You stupid idiot, jerk! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Do you know how hard it is to get last-minute plane tickets? Why didn't you tell me? Is this your idea of grocery shopping?" You lightly playfully hit his chest, and he could barely hold back his laughter. "I came here because I couldn't wait to see you, baby. Anything for you."

You held him tightly, not realizing you were crying until Jeongin spoke up. "Let's go inside first, baby. I don't want you crying out here like this," he said, leading you to the bedroom. You clung to him like a koala. "Innie, I missed you so, so much." "That's why I'm here, baby. Come on, show me that pretty smile."

You smiled at him. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion. "Hey, Innie, please don't tell me you're going to cry too. That's my thing to do," he laughed softly, pulling you closer.

"Now that you're here, and I have a relaxed schedule, let's go out and explore the streets tomorrow," you suggested, hoping for a positive response. "Sure, just make sure no one recognizes you," he ran his slender fingers through your hair, caressing your soft locks. You relaxed into his touch.

He was there with you, in his arms, after all. You couldn't be happier, and neither could he. Moments like these were what your heart would cherish for a lifetime—tiny, joyful memories, precious and special.