#but by the time i was born nobody knew the language or how to make more than a couple dishes or anything. it makes me really sad

[julsvu]

heyy u take reqs for mha, right? if so, can i request for a monoma x gen neutral reader? reader's in class 1A and is close with all their classmates, but is secretly dating monoma. it's basically the trope 'enemies in public, but lovers in private' but class 1A and class 1B end up finding out about their relationship and lose their minds LMAO

gn! reader

💬: tysm for requesting!! this was so fun to write HSSIDI hope you enjoy !! <33

📒: crack fic kind of??, swearing, written in 2nd pov, monoma is the leader of the sassy man apocalypse, headcanons + a oneshot under the cut :>

being neito monoma's secret lover hcs

during the school festival, neito literally suggested for his class to do a plot where two people would play as secret lovers from different kingdoms that hated each other (he was projecting TEWW MUCH)

one time class 1B was playing truth or dare and he got asked if he was single or not, and this mf said: "my partner goes to a different school! 🙄🙄🙄" bc he couldn't think of any other lie

obviously, everyone poked fun at him

"monoma, y'know being single isn't embarrassing, right..?"

"you can tell us the truth, y'know.."

i feel like kendo probably suspected it at one point

since she saw the way monoma kept investigating your classmates about the villain attacks (as a way of finding out if you're okay or not)

and because his insults towards you was like..so much more detailed compared to your other classmates?? like bro knew EVERY little detail about you, even the details that no one in class 1A knew

she brushed it off though, cause you and neito always argued — there was no way, right? (yes, there was a way)

he claims that class 1A "shines" too much because of you (as a way of hiding the fact that you're the one who he actually pays attention to)

when he approaches class 1A to make fun of them, he actually does it so he can see you (when he sees that you aren't with them, he just scoffs after insulting them, and walks away) (born from the sassy man apocalypse)

your classmates.. i think some of them def knew that you were dating someone, but NOBODY could predict the fact that you'd be dating neito, class 1A's biggest hater, some of your classmates were like "🤨 is this a betrayal or.." 😭😭 goes the same for class 1B, because as said earlier, his insults toward you were so much more..detailed, they thought he hated you more than the others ☠️☠️

they found out when they caught you both dancing together during a U.A high school party

"MY JAW.. WHERE'S MY JAW?" - denki when he found out (one second away from going into his "yay mode")

and u have mina in the corner saying that it's like one of those dramatic secret relationship fanfics (which in this case, it is)

for as long as neito monoma remembered, his heart was full of you. almost like the honey of a beehive, slowly overflowing and dropping to the floor. although, he swears that you're sweeter than honey itself. or, at least, that's how it felt. it started with small, short glances, secret hangouts at a small cafe, texting every day, training with each other, bittersweet confessions, and secret good-luck kisses.

but, for as long as class 1B and class 1A (excluding you) knew, neito and you were enemies, rivals, foes, maybe even nemeses. there was only so much your schoolmates could know, though. U.A's rigid course aided you and your boyfriend in keeping your relationship under warp, people failed to notice the longing stare the blond boy would hold whenever he saw you training with what he described to be "tetsutetsu's twin" from class 1A, the slight tone of pride whenever you'd counter an insult of his with your own words, acting like it wasn't your love language reserved for only each other; sneaking away from your respective dorms to meet each other in the ungodly hours of the night, exchanging sweetened words.

you waited on the bus with your classmates, the vehicle bustling with excited conversations; mina and the girls fangirling over each other's outfits, kaminari asking the "are we there yet?" question every five minutes, iida struggling to keep your classmates quiet, and so on. as you fixed your appearance slightly, you checked the time on your watch, reading that it was now 8:00 PM. however, a certain blond texted you, interrupting your moment of silence.

"darling, we have arrived at the venue. where are you?" monoma texts, with a stunning picture of the venue sent under his text. the dim fairy lights hung around the place, the food table with a chocolate fountain and appetizers, and the chandelier that would highlight the bodies of the people dancing.

just as you finished reading his message, you heard your homeroom teacher state that you guys had arrived. almost immediately, everyone cheered, giggling, and rushed out of the bus, exploring the venue after a few reminders from Mr. Aizawa to not get lost, and to behave. you dusted off your clothing, as you looked around for your boyfriend, neito, before you finally messaged him back.

"i'm at the entrance, neito," and not even five minutes later, you heard the only voice that could make your chest feel warm. neito's.

"hey, pretty," you greet, sending him an awkward wink.

he scoffs, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. "hello yourself, sweetheart."

"shall we dance?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. you give him a nod, as well as a chuckle. he had the tendency to make things as "theatrical" as possible. you were reminded of the time when you guys reenacted an old classical dance on a random rooftop, with no one else around.

a few moments later, the U.A high school party was in full swing, the pulsating beat of the music reverberating through the crowded gymnasium. amidst the sea of bodies, you and your blond boyfriend were drowning in the rhythm, dancing together in the dim atmosphere.

however, the dim atmosphere wasn't enough to hide you and your boyfriend, as well as your secret relationship.

kaminari spat out his drink from a few meters away. he, and mina were hanging out in the food table. "is that (name) and monoma?! the guy that hates us all?!" his jaw drops right after his statement, as he nudged the pink-haired girl beside him. the girl's eyes widen, before she squeals happily, "it's like a forbidden romance! eek!"

in the other side, there was tetsutetsu and kirishima. "yo, that's monoma/(name), your classmate!" they said to each other at the same time, and same speed.

you and neito exchanged a knowing glance, overhearing your classmates' reactions.

"monoma, did you force (name) to dance with you?!" kendo exclaimed, looking at her classmate with furrowed brows, and holding empathy for you. your laugh started off as small snickers, and then to a full-blown laugh, as you fell to your knees, giggling and holding your stomach. in the background was your boyfriend explaining, waving his hands as if to defend himself.

"you and monoma?" mina asks with a grin, behind her, were your classmates, who stopped to hear your answer. flies were about to fly into their mouths, at this rate.

"me and monoma," you replied, chuckling at the whole ordeal.

the situation made the night more entertaining than ever.

© 2024 JULSVU. all rights reserved. please don't plagiarize, translate, put in other websites or copy my work without permission. ty!

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

[ouroboobos]

being american is sucks as hell. it genuinely pains me to think about the customs and language i could have grown up with if my family had stayed in ireland or scotland or norway however many generations ago. and it really bothers me to consider what the evolution was like for my family from whatever they were before to what they are now. like were they always this bad, or is it partly the result of growing up in a conservative american environment?

[afterthatidontknow]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[rainylana]

“I don’t like the way I look.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

requested by anonymous

summary: your insecurities of your postpartum body finally come out.

warnings: postpartum, insecurities about the readers body, lots of tears, language, angst, eddie cries. i’m not a mother nor have i ever been pregnant, so i hope i did this justice.

You were one of those people who were extremely confident in their looks. You knew you were hot. You had hair girls were jealous of, and a figure, too. You had beautiful green eyes that looked gold in the sun. Pale skin that made your jaw line sharp and features prominent.

Eddie liked having you that way. He loved your confidence and everything about you. However the day you had your baby, it all changed. The nine months of pregnancy went by smoothly. You’d obviously put on an enormous amount of baby weight, but you had assumed you’d drop it once the baby was born. You weren’t, and no matter how little food you ate or how much exercise you did, you couldn’t get it off. Besides, you didn’t have time to really put in the work for dieting, not healthily, anyways. Not with a baby.

You loved your daughter. There was no question in that, but you couldn’t admit it to yourself, or anyone, that you now hated how you looked. You had a pouch in your belly that you’d never had before, the skin on your sides had turned to love handles, your legs still stolen. You cried yourself to sleep so many times during the night, watching your daughter sleep. Little Patricia Munson. Patty.

You were good at hiding it. Eddie had no suspicion of your struggles. Nobody did. Only you and the mirror.

Motherhood suited you. To Eddie and your friends, you were glowing. You were so good with your baby. You knew how to get her to calm down, to sleep peacefully through the night. Having a child was a new kind of love you never thought one person was capable of feeling. Eddie loved watching you with her, the way you held her and sang to her. He was absolutely mesmerized when you breastfed her.

You looked like you could do it all with a crown on top of your head, and nobody knew just how badly you were feeling.

Tonight was a particularly bad night and you had no idea why. You were sat in the rocking chair of Patty’s nursery, holding her in your arms and softly patting her. She’d been asleep for quiet some time, but you weren’t ready to put her down. It was almost one in the morning, and you knew Eddie would wake up soon and wonder where you were.

The room was dark, besides the Winnie the Pooh nightlight that illuminated an orange glow around the room, plastic stars stuck up on the ceiling for extra light.

You were humming lightly, your finger sweeping over her swirl of dark hair. She was only seven weeks old, and every day she looked more and more like Eddie. You didn’t think it was exactly fair, considering you were the one who carried her for nine months, but you couldn’t deny how cute it was having a mini Eddie in your arms.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your voice breaking mid hum at the disapproving picture you received. Your face used to be so slim. And though it hadn’t changed dramatically as the rest of your body, you missed it what everything used to look like. You knew you should love your body, considering what it did to make little Patty, but you feared what Eddie thought of you now.

Sex with him hadn’t faltered or was forgotten. On the contrary. It had done nothing but flourish since you had your baby, but have the time you had to force yourself to cum, thinking nothing about the pleasure and only if he was judging you the way you judged yourself.

Soon enough, you heard the bed squeak in the other room and his feet hit the floor. You sniffled, wiping your stray tear quickly before he could find you.

His head of dark curls, white shirt and boxers decorating his body came wondering in the room, smiling sleepily when he quietly came over to you. You smiled up at him, puckering your lips for a kiss. He kissed you, then bent down to give his baby girl a soft kiss on the forehead. He tapped her little nose and grinned, chuckling softly.

You knew what he was thinking. I can’t believe she’s mine. You smiled, too.

He stifled a yawn and brought over the other rocking chair and sat in front of you, leaning back so he could get comfortable. “I’ll sit with her for awhile, darlin’. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“No.” You shook your head, smiling at him briefly. “I can’t sleep, anyways.”

Eddie thought this was when you were the most beautiful, holding his baby. You were both his babies. “I can’t believe she’s ours sometimes.” He admitted tiredly, trying to wake himself up. “I never thought I could love someone so small so much.”

“I know.” You nodded. “It’s scary sometimes.”

It was. Loving someone so much. You knew your life would be over if anything were to ever happen to her.

“I’d do anything for her.” Eddie said, his curls a pillow between his head and the wood of the rocking chair as he lay back comfortably watching the two of you.

“I know.” You said once again, full of emotion. You didn’t want to cry, but hearing Eddie talk about how much he loved her got you emotional, especially because you wondered if he loved you as much as he used to. “Me too.” A lone tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek and dropping onto your bare knee. It was so quick you hoped he hadn’t noticed it. You were wrong.

“Hey,” Eddie perked up. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” You sighed heavily. “I’m alright.”

“But you’re cryin’, angel.” He frowned, sitting up in his seat to lean over closer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You gave a firm nod, but your voice broke, betraying what you had just said.

He gave you a look before glancing down at your daughter. “I think you’re tired, honey. Why don’t you-”

“I’m not tired.” You said firmly, looking up to him with glassy eyes. “I just want to be alone.”

He chalked it up to your hormones being out of control and nodded, offering a quiet ‘alright’ as he shut the nursery door behind him. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a hushed sob, bringing Patty closer to your chest. You laid your head against her’s, giving her a crying kiss. She barely even stirred.

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were, because Eddie was back within seconds, coming to squat down beside you and gently take the baby from your arms. He shushed her softly and placed her down in her crib before turning back to find you missing.

He found you outside on the porch, sobbing like you had a broken heart, arms crossed and holding your body like you’d break at any second. It was starting to sprinkle, but you didn’t care. You knew if you woke up Patty this late it would take you forever to get her back to sleep.

“Baby,” Eddie said sadly, coming up behind you. “What’s got you so upset?” He didn’t touch you, a hand only ghosting the fabric that covered your back.

“I’m fine.” You said through sobs, the air cold and bitter against your skin. You only had on a long t-shirt, but the trailer court had all turned in for the night. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not without you.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, wishing he could leave your pity party for you and you only. He wouldn’t understand how you were feeling, and worst off, maybe your fears were true. You didn’t want to know the truth. Did he still find you attractive? Did he still enjoy sex? Did he still love you as much even though you weren’t skinny?

“Eddie, please,” You turned around, tears running down your face, red and blotchy. “Go back to bed.”

He stared at you, frowning and brows knitted in concern. “You know I can’t do that. We made a promise, remember?”

Damn it. He always threw down that card.

After vecna, you both were broken shells of what you once used to be. Everyone was. You made him promise you he wouldn’t shut down. He had to talk when his heart was aching, and in return, you promised the same. You promised to talk when your heart ached, and right now, it was.

You sighed, nodding softly. You did remember, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. You quickly turned around to hide your fresh set of tears, biting your tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It might make you feel better.” He moved to stand directly beside you, leaning against the wood railing that was growing damp from the light rain. “Please, honey. Talk to me.”

You sniffled and looked away from his stare. “I’m scared of what you’ll say. I don’t know if I want the answer.”

“Answer to what?” He said confused. “Baby- just tell me, okay? I promise whatever it is, it’ll work itself out.”

But would it? Would you ever be as beautiful as you used to be? Would you ever be skinny, never have to worry about what you ate? That’s all you thought of now, worrying about what you put in your mouth. You were petrified of gaining more weight.

“I don’t like the way I look.” You finally said crying, looking over at him. “There, okay? I don’t like the way I look. I look in the mirror and I’m just disgusted with what I see.”

His eyes were wide. You had shocked him. His brows were creased and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I love Patty.” You sobbed. “But I hate what being pregnant did to me and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. I’m not beautiful anymore and I miss it.” Your voice broke deeply, crackling like tv static that couldn’t get a proper signal. “I don’t feel pretty for you and I’m scared that you think it too.”

“Okay, wait,” He’d heard enough, speaking quickly as he straightened himself taller. “I don’t- y/n, you’re talkin’ crazy.”

“Am I?” You retorted. “Because the mirror doesn’t lie, Eddie.” You stood your ground. You were right and Eddie wasn’t going to sweet talk you out of the truth. Facts were facts. “I’m not beautiful anymore and you know it. Stop lying to me!”

“Y/n, what the hell-” He backed away. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I’ve never said anything like that to you ever. Where is all of this coming from?” He shook his head in absolute disbelief, trying to be calm and rational to understand where you were coming from. A part of him wondered if it was just a hormonal, postpartum outburst, but your tears and attitude told him otherwise.

“You didn’t!” You snapped. “But you don’t have to. I know. I look at myself in the mirror every day and wonder if you’re attracted to me anymore. I don’t look like how I used to.” You were bawling, snot leaking from your nose and eyes bloodshot red. Your hair was starting to get wet from the rain.

“Why the fuck does that matter?” Eddie argued back, his sense of cool becoming too hard to handle. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk so negatively about yourself. “You are you and it doesn’t matter what you look like. You just had a baby, sweetheart. You’re obviously not going to loose all the weight overnight. You’re being too hard on yourself.” He tried to speak soothingly to calm your cries, his hands holding your elbows, head dipping down like he was speaking to a child.

“And even if you don’t,” He continued. “I’m going to love you just the way you are because you’re the mother of my child.” His hands went up to your shoulders. “You gave me the greatest gift of my life, darlin’,” To your surprise, his eyes teared up.

“Please,” He pulled you in to hold you. “Don’t think like that, baby, please. I can’t bear to hear you talk like that.” His voice broke, a guilt sinking into your heart that made you feel foolish.

“I’m sorry.” You rushed, wrapping your hands around his back. “I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying, desperate to keep him from crying.

You realized then, how wrong you were. Because if he thought the things you thought of yourself, he wouldn’t be out here in the rain with you, holding you close, crying, over what you had said. You realized then, just how much he loved you.

[ghoul-bonez]

~I Love You, I Trust You, I See You~

(Ao’nung x Fem! Deaf! Sully! Reader)

Summary: When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was it’s because you couldn’t hear him.

Word count: 4.4k

Author’s note: This is the longest oneshot I’ve written at 4.4k words and 9 1/2 google docs pages… Sign language will be normal font, and bold & italics will be spoken, although I try my best to show which is going on.

~Masterlist~

I Love You, I Trust You, I See You

When people thought of the Sully family many thought of your siblings. They thought of Lo’ak who was always a troublemaker, causing chaos everywhere he went. They thought of Kiri who seemed so in tune with her surroundings that she might as well be Eywa herself. They thought of Tuk who was the youngest, still enamored by everyday life. They thought of Neteyam, a strong leader who would someday take on the role of Olo’eyktan after your father.

They never thought of you.

You who always seemed to be in your own little world. You who never had any friends. You who never talked. You who always seemed so attentive to the world around you, yet had no desire to join it.

When you were born after your twin Neteyam, a spike of fear had run through everyone in the room when you began to cry, but no sound came out. They feared you may not be breathing right, you may need your airways cleared. They feared something was wrong, and that was true.

When your parents or siblings thought about your family, they thought about you. They thought about how funny you were, always cracking jokes when there was a chance. They thought about how kind you were, taking a moment to check on everyone daily. They thought about how different you were than most.

They thought about you. You who couldn’t hear.

You always seemed to be in your own world, and that drew many away from you, they didn’t want to be friends with someone who they didn’t think was paying attention to them, and to be fair you weren’t paying attention to people most of the time. You preferred to direct your attention to the world around you, always keeping an eye out as you couldn’t hear danger coming.

When you had been caught by Quaritch and his men you had panicked, more than everyone else at least. You didn’t know what was going on, you didn’t know what they were saying, your lip reading was not dependable, and definitely not in english.

When your siblings arms were bound you couldn’t keep yourself calm, now you had no way of communicating, they couldn’t translate for you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes closed as tight as possible to try to calm yourself by blocking out the outside world.

When you felt your captor’s grip on your release your eyes shot open, looking around at the damage around you, multiple avatars dead on the ground. Then you ran, you ran faster than ever before in the first direction you saw.

You ran and ran, eyes trained on everything around you, and when you ran into someone and they grabbed you again it was like a shock. You let out a scream, the first noise anyone had ever heard you make. A noise nobody was aware you could make.

You turned to dead weight in an attempt to get out of their grasp, panic coursing through you again as your eyes couldn’t come into focus. However, the person dropped to the ground with you, pulling your face towards them and holding it still as you tried to thrash. Then they blew air into your face, and you realized you were safe.

When you were younger you would throw temper tantrums, as children do, where you would close your eyes to refuse to listen to your parents. Not being able to see them meant no sign language, which meant no having to listen to them. However your father found one thing always worked, blowing air on your face. Your eyes would shoot open, highly offended with your mouth dropped open, before you would sign at him, “Your breath is gross.” in retaliation.

You had never been more relieved for your dad’s stupid way of getting you to listen. Your eyes finally came into focus and you calmed down seeing his face, but that calm quickly turned into crying, sobbing. You couldn’t help but let out all of the pent up emotion inside of you, but eventually you calmed down and were able to stand back up, staggering your way home with the rest of your family.

Some time later when your parents had been arguing in your family kelku you hadn’t been paying attention as your siblings were, all huddled against the wall. You had been lost in your own world once again, not wanting to know what was being said as you were still processing what had happened earlier. You didn’t need anything on top of that as you feared it would make your careful stack of emotions you had constructed come tumbling down.

They had come tumbling down though as your parents announced you were moving, leaving. Leaving everything you had ever known, your home, your grandmother, the forest you loved so much. You couldn’t help it as you cried again, being held by your mother this time.

However as you thought about it you weren’t that sad. You had always liked the water, everyone not having to hear underwater made you feel more included, more like you belonged, and you had heard the Metkayina used sign language. Maybe this would be a chance to make friends for the first time in your life. Maybe you would be able to talk to people for once, nobody at home taking the time to learn American Sign Language, as your father had called it, like your family had.

One thing you hadn't taken into account was that they used a different version of sign language, but that had become very apparent when you first jumped into the water with Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo. They used signs you had never seen before, ones you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t help but feel a little beaten down at dinner, staying quieter than usual, not signing as much.

Afterwards your dad had asked you to step outside, waving a hand towards you as he exited the marui.

He sat down on the pathway, and you knew he expected you to join him, so you did. You sat next to him with your feet dangling in the water, looking out towards the horizon, refusing to look at him so you didn't have to have a conversation.

That didn’t last long though as he poked you in the arm, causing you to look at him offended, mouth open and eyebrows raised. He took this as his chance to speak, “You okay, kid?” He signed.

You sighed deeply, fidgeting with your hands before signing, “I’m okay, dad.”

You could tell he didn’t believe you, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re less talkative. What’s wrong?” He signed, proving he didn’t think you were telling the truth.

A frown came to your face, feeling like it was permanently there after the past few days or so, but you continued, “I’m disappointed.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise and confusion on his face, “About what?”

You looked away from his face, instead choosing to watch his hands, you didn’t want to see the pity on his face, “We don’t speak the same language. I can’t communicate. Everyone else can at least talk to each other.”

His face softened, but you didn’t see it, “It’ll be okay. You’re a fast learner, so you will learn their language quickly, then you can make friends. If anyone actually wants to be your friend.” He meant it playfully, and you saw him laugh, so jammed your elbow in his ribs.

Then the conversation was over, your mom poking her head out of the doorway and saying something to your dad. He just stood up and gave you a look like he was asking, “You good?” and you nodded, “Yes.” back in return.

After your father’s words of encouragement you decided to work harder, learn faster, determined to be able to communicate with the people around you, and a few weeks later you were excelling whereas your siblings were still struggling. They were caught up on the differences of Metkayina sign language versus ASL but you had grasped that there weren’t differences, or similarities, and you would just be learning from scratch.

Even though you were doing well at it, working your way towards being fluent, you were worried about talking to the people, mostly because of one person in particular, Ao’nung. It was as if Ao'nung was determined to ruin your siblings' lives, and yours, but you didn’t know that.

You had seen Ao’nung’s attempts to cause hell for your siblings, nagging at them, laughing at them, and even trying to start fights, with Lo’ak in particular. Him messing with your siblings made you frustrated, but you weren’t aware of the taunts meant to make you upset, and laughing that was meant to make you feel like a target coming towards you from a distance.

The bullying towards your siblings had become more and more frustrating and you had begun showing your anger at home, being rougher with things than usual, and not wanting to go outside of the shared family marui.

It had been peaceful while you and your mom had been working on dinner, but she noticed you seemed to be far off, handling the food with rougher hands, “Are you okay, (Y/n).” Neytiri signed as you placed another fish over the fire.

You rolled your eyes at her, upset she was even insinuating something was wrong. In reality there was, but you didn’t want to admit that, “Yes mama, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She had asked back, concern on her face as she looked at you closely.

You signed, “Yes.” Trying to end the conversation, but you knew she would just keep pushing.

You saw your mom think for a moment, her face scrunching up in concentration, “Well I am not.”

You frowned more, once again feeling like it had always been there since you left the forest, “Not what?”

She was frowning too now, “I’m not sure you’re fine. I see you isolating yourself. Even from me and your father.” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently to show her love in a little way.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated tears, tears that came because with all the stress recently they were the only way your brain knew how to process, to cope.

You pulled your hands from hers to wipe at them, “I’m sorry.” was all you could say.

She wiped the tears falling down your face before saying, “Why?”

You sniffled, running your hands down your face before signing, “I see Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam being picked on, and there is nothing I can do. I can’t stand up to the bullies. I can’t say anything.”

“Okay, well soon you will be able to say something. You are learning their sign language, yes? I’ve heard from your siblings you are out working them.” She smiled at you and you could really see how proud of you she was.

You couldn’t help but crack a little smile although tears still threatened to fall, “Yes, mama. I’m getting better, but I’m worried it will be too late though.”

“I’m sure you will do your best, my ‘ite.” She thought for a second, “Why don’t you go try to talk to these kids tomorrow?”

You sighed, you didn’t want to, but you knew your mom would nag you until you agreed, “Okay. Love you.”

She smiled lovingly at you, “Love you too.” before pulling you into a hug.

When tomorrow came you didn’t even want to leave your marui, but you found the strength to do so. You did some of the breathing exercises Tsireya had taught you to try to calm your nerves, and they worked for the most part, steadying you and clearing your head.

However as soon as you stepped outside your marui you regretted it, not wanting to do what you had promised to your mother, but you knew you had to eventually. Eventually, which meant you could fool around as long as you wanted beforehand, and so you decided to settle down for a quick nap on the beach.

When you laid down and closed your eyes you quickly and easily fell asleep. You were still tired from last night when you struggled to sleep from your anxious thoughts.

When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was that it's because you couldn’t hear him.

Ao’nung tried to not let anything get to him, especially when it came to people he didn’t like, like the Sullys, but for some reason you, (Y/n) Sully, had peeved him more than anyone or anything else. He had grown tired of you ignoring him when he shouted or laughed at you, like you didn’t even notice he was there, tired of you flat out avoiding him sometimes as you scurried away when he tried to approach you.

Of course he knew why, he had the same intentions to bully you and make you feel unwanted in Awa’atlu as your siblings. Of course you didn’t want this so you spent most of your time avoiding him, but for some reason instead of him not caring about it, it made him want to get under your skin even more.

When the sun rose today he decided today was the day to act. Today he would confront you head on, face to face. He would make you notice him, and he would make you feel awful in the process. So he gathered his friends, his goons, and they set off to find you.

They first checked with Tsireya who was with the rest of your siblings, but you were nowhere to be found, they all insisted they hadn’t seen you. Then they combed the beach, going from one end to the other, and on the far end they found you peacefully asleep on the soft sand.

He couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked asleep and peaceful, but he quickly shook it off, shouting at you, “Wake up, freak!”

He was targeting your extra finger and the hair above your eyebrows, like he had your siblings because he knew that got to them, and hoped it would do the same to you.

When you didn’t stir he tried shouting again, assuming you were awake, but trying to act asleep to avoid him, “What is wrong with you? Do you not care or are you stupid avoiding me?”

His friends laughed at you when you still didn’t move, eyes not cracking open and your breathing staying the same, so he took the next step, trying something physical. He kicked sand up and over you and finally you stirred, sitting straight up and looking around for the source of the sand, and when you saw him your heart dropped, a lump forming in your throat.

“There we go, now you are paying attention.” He snickered.

You tried to read his lips, but he spoke too fast, and you just stayed silent. You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a look of confusion.

You hesitated for a second, but were about to sign something when he spoke again. “Do you not speak? A silent freak, interesting.” You still didn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his friends all laughed at you, and although you couldn’t hear it it made you feel small.

“I’m sorry. I can not hear you.” You signed, using Metkayina sign language this time.

He scoffed, “I do not believe that. I think you just don’t want us to bother you, but here we are.” He laughed in your face.

“Please use your hands.” You tried to communicate, but they just wouldn’t listen to you.

“No.” He sneered, this you understood, one single word.

Your mouth dropped open, offense written all over it. You knew he was disrespectful, didn’t care about others feelings, but you would make him care, “I can not hear. I am deaf.”

He was about to retort against you again, but when he had been searching for you earlier that day Neteyam knew he meant trouble, so when he found you he stayed in the shadows, watching, but now Ao’nung had taken it too far.

He surged forwards, anger consuming him, “Step off bro. She can’t hear you.”

“Yeah that is what she just said.” He rolled his eyes, “I do not care though, it is better if she can not hear me. Means I can make fun of her without her knowing.” He signed the last part so you could understand.

You shrunk back, standing to hide behind Neteyam. You tugged on his arm, “It’s okay.” You signed.

“It’s not okay, (Y/n).” He rubbed a hand down his face, turning to Ao’nung, “You need to leave her alone.”

“Whatever.” Ao’nung scoffed before turning and walking away.

Now he knew why you seemed to ignore him, you just didn’t know he was talking to you. You were probably avoiding him because you didn’t know their sign language yet. He felt bad for some reason. He usually wouldn’t feel bad about his bullying but with you it felt different now knowing this.

He couldn’t show his feelings though, worried about his little group making fun of him, but he slowly started to back off of you, and your siblings some as well. Whenever one of his “friends” would ask why, he would reply something like “We can not make fun of a cripple.” and roll his eyes, still a jab at you, but less so.

At some point you became all that consumed his thoughts, on his mind at all times, and whenever he would see you with his sister, or your siblings, he would feel the need to insert himself into the conversation, but he always refrained. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but he feared judgment from his “friends” who are just as nasty as he was.

Eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore, heading to your marui to ask to talk with you, in the way you would understand. When he knocked on the doorway of the family home Lo’ak was the first to notice him, glaring at him and nudging Neteyam in the side, directing his attention towards Ao’nung.

Neteyam stood before either of his parents even noticed the boy in the doorway, stalking over to him and dragging him down the pathway so they could talk, “What do you want?” He hissed out.

Ao’nung cleared his throat, but the words still came out small, nervous, “I came to apologize to (Y/n)...”

“No.” Was all Neteyam said before turning away and starting to walk back into the Sully family’s home.

Ao’nung grabbed his arm before he got too far away, “Please. Please let me talk to her.” He begged, something he didn’t like to do, but it was necessary.

Neteyam sighed, “Fine, but if you do anything I will chop your head off myself.” He threatened the boy, “I’ll go get her.”

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the marui, a frown on your face and hands he could see shaking, “What do you want?” You signed, hands shaking with nerves.

“I came to say sorry.” He started off, “I’m sorry for bullying you, and your siblings. I promise I won’t do it any more.”

“And?” You asked, knowing there was more.

He looked nervous now, hands shaking as he signed, “I wanted to extend the offer of friendship.”

You looked shocked now, “You want to be friends with me?”

He nodded his head, smiling shyly, “Yes. Absolutely.”

You smiled this time, relieved he would be leaving your siblings alone, and excited to learn more about him, about what he was really like under the bad boy shell, “Okay, friend.”

He just nodded at you, “I have to go now. See you at lessons with Tsireya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” You responded.

When you entered the marui again everyone's eyes were on you, a light blush on your face, “I made a friend.” You smiled.

You could see your parents cheering and clapping for you, but your siblings' faces were unsure, you would have to reassure them later but for now you were all having a family night, playing games and handing out things you had made for each other with the new resources you were getting used to using. They were clunky and awkward, but you would get better, it reminded you of something, of someone.

As days passed into weeks you and Ao’nung had grown closer, him pretty much taking over your lessons, stealing you away from Tsireya who was sad to see you go, but happy for her brother for making a friend, a real friend, not one of his goons that tended to hover around him at all times. You had seemingly broken down his bad boy aesthetic and his goons had since left him, moving onto another leader to follow, still as nasty as ever.

You were grateful for him letting his walls down around you, allowing you to see him, and soon you did. You saw him as more than you ever had before. You couldn’t help but think about courting him, of trading little handmade gifts, and sharing little intimate moments of happiness throughout the day.

It seemed as if he wanted the same as he began bringing you gifts, starting as a little armband he made from you out of hard to find shells he had spent many hours trying to find, then it moved onto necklaces and bracelets. Each was more intricate than the last.

When this started you began to bring him things too, poorly made things because using dried seaweed and palm leaves were different from the materials of the jungle, but you managed. Even though they weren’t the best quality he proudly wore them, gladly accepting every gift you would give.

Everyone had noticed by now, the traded jewelry, the touches that lingered a little too long, and the longing looks when you weren’t together. What baffled people most however was not Ao’nung’s seemingly peaceful side coming out, but the fact that neither of you had officially come out and asked if you were courting.

You were courting, you both knew that, but Ao’nung wanted to put it into words, he wanted to make it official, but he felt the need to fix a couple things first, to get a couple blessings.

So he went to the person he thought would be easiest first, your mom. She had seen you two from afar and already had talked to you about it, encouraging you to pursue him and get what you wanted. She had said she was not Tsahík, but Eywa had shown her signs. So when Ao’nung asked she immediately gave him her blessing, knowing this was something not just he wanted, but something you wanted too.

Then he went to your dad. He was a fierce warrior who commanded respect, and Ao’nung tried his best to be respectful, carefully wording his proposal of courting his daughter. Of course Jake had been hesitant at first, but eventually he caved after Ao’nung had mentioned he already had Neytiri’s blessing.

Finally he went to Neteyam, your twin brother, your best friend since birth. Neteyam was adamantly against it, wanting nothing to do with Ao’nung, and wanting his sister to have nothing to do with him either. He was still on the edge of forgiving Ao’nung, swaying over a cliff where falling meant forgiving Ao’nung for his wrong doings, and when Ao’nung explained his love for you, his intentions to never hurt you and treat you with the respect you deserve Neteyam fell over the cliff, giving the Metkayina boy his blessing.

Once he had gotten their blessings he had invited you to the beach where he had first intentionally seeked you out. You were hesitant to go back there with him, but you gave in, trusting him wholeheartedly.

You love him. You trust him. You see him.

When you got there he pulled you to sit down with him, you both facing each other, and he signed, letting his heart out, letting his feelings show, “I am sorry for any times I have hurt you. I was an ass and a fool, and I wish I had never caused you upset or harm. I am sorry for bullying your siblings too, they did not deserve it, but I was scared by the new people and what they would bring. I now see I should have helped like my sister. I should have been making you feel at home here, not doing the opposite.”

“It’s okay. We’re past that.” You reassured him.

He nodded, continuing, “Now I see how special you are. I see how much you’ve changed me and my views on life. I am grateful for the person you have shaped me into. I am grateful I got the chance to make it up to you. I want to court you. Officially.”

You felt your heart swell, butterflies in your stomach, and you were sure it was showing on your face, “I would love that.”

You moved your hands carefully to cup his face, holding it there as you looked into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for him too, then you pulled him in, lips brushing against each other before they fully made contact. It was magical, unlike anything you had felt before, and you were happy it was him making you feel this way. So happy, so loved.

When you pulled apart he smiled widely at you, grabbing your hands and giving them a gentle but tight squeeze before using them to say, “I see you. I see you.”

You sign your thoughts from earlier, “I love you, I trust you, I see you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles, and pulls you back in for another kiss, and you feel at peace. You know he is yours, and you are his. You know he will never leave you, and you will never leave him. You know he loves you, and you love him. You know he sees you, and you see him.

Word Bank:

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Kelku (Omatikaya homes)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

‘Ite (Daughter)

Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 5]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 3.4k

Authors Note: A little bit of a longer chapter this time around, and I'm very excited to share this part with you. I also wanted to note that I have the next 2 parts in the works, and again, I wanted to thank you for reading my story!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lallataegi @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Interlude

Series Masterlist

The basement is loud with the sound of drunken college students conversing over a pop playlist that played over a DIY speaker system. Boxed wine and cheap beer flowed freely, poured into disposable cups. One of those cups landed in Jung Kook’s hand, and he hoped it would give him the courage to say hello you. He stood against the wall, feeling completely invisible, seemingly blended into the background of grey cement. You, by contrast, were a social butterfly, amazing Jung Kook with how you were able to completely light up the room. 

You were sitting on empty table, denim shorts revealing your legs as the swung absentmindedly to the rhythm. A group of your closest girl friends surrounded you, and you sported a large, pearly white smile while you spoke to them. Jung Kook couldn’t hear you over the music and the other party goers, but he could tell just from watching how easily you drew people in. 

‘Just talk to her.’ He repeated to himself, taking more sips of his beer. ‘Just talk to her. Just do it. She’s nice, you know she won’t laugh at you. Just do it.” 

As though his feet had made a decision for him, he headed towards your little circle of friends. When he approached you, your attention turned to him, and your eyes lit up. 

“Jung Kook! I haven’t gotten to talk to you yet this semester, how are you?”  You greeted him. Your friends turned to him, smiled and some waved. “You guys, this is Jung Kook, we have a class together! He was in my history class last semester, too.” 

“Hi.” Jung Kook waved shyly, not used to being the center of attention. “I-I’m good, thanks.” 

With a sigh of relief that the hardest part is over, Jung Kook moved into the space your friends made for him, and attempted to melt into the conversation. He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off of you, but if anyone noticed, they said nothing about it. He desperately wanted to get you alone, away from the noise, but couldn’t quite find the right moment to steal you away from your friends. So he settled for watching your bright smile, sparkling eyes, and listening to your charismatic, sweet voice chat up your friends. 

But then,, Kai, the boy who had hurt you just a few months previously, moved in close to you, handing you another cup. Jung Kook detested the way you looked up at him, and the way all your friends fawned superficially over the two of you. Everyone, including Jung Kook, knew he was bad for you, but nobody wanted to say anything when you just looked so happy. He understood, because he never wanted to make you sad, either. 

It wasn’t long before Kai led you away from the party, to his parked car, to take you home for the night. You turned and waved at your friends, including Jung Kook, telling them to drive safe. Jung Kook went home right after, feeling sick to his stomach in sadness. 

Later that night, at Kai’s, you stepped out of his shower into the steamy bathroom. You feet hit the soft bathmat, and you tied your hair up into a towel before checking the multiple texts on your phone from your group of friends, sending pics of the night.You smiled at the girls, and rolled your eyes playfully at them. 

1:13 am - Jihyo: Y/N, that Jung Kook guy is soooo cute. He’s like a bunny lol 

1:14 am - Nayeon: I think he likes her??? He stared at her literally all night 

1:15 am - Jihyo: I’m so glad you noticed that too lol. I know you have a thing going on with Kai, but he told you he didn’t want anything serious, right? Idk, maybe you should ask Jung Kook out???

1:17 am - Nayeon: Yeah, and I doubt he’ll ever do it himself. He barely talked tonight? I guess he’s just shy. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Kai called from outside the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, my friends are texting me.” You responded, putting the phone down and finishing your night time routine. 

You met Kai in the bedroom, and he looked like a dream. Shirtless, sitting up in bed with the tv on, he smiled at you, and you wondered how badly it was going to hurt when you inevitably stopped coming over to see him. Logically, you know this was just casual, and that’s all it would ever be. But that night, you put your cares aside, as you dipped under the covers to take him between your lips, just the way you’ve learned that he likes. 

“Shit, Y/N…” He groaned, placing a firm hand on the top of your bobbing head. “Go a little deeper… Fuck, keep sucking my dick, baby… Just fucking like that…” 

He fell asleep shortly after finishing, leaving you feeling lonely and unsatisfied. You grabbed your phone as he slept, and re read your friends texts. Did Jung Kook have a crush on you? Maybe? You decided to ask him the next time you saw him in class. The worst he could say is no, right? 

But the question was never answered when, the next class period, the seat next to yours was empty. As was the day after, and the day after that. You asked around, only to find that Jung Kook had gone home excused for several weeks, apparently to spend time with family. 

The reason was only partially true. Jung Kook, after the passing of his father, made it a priority and a personal responsibility of his to take care of his mother. No matter how many times she told him to focus on his studies, supportive of his dreams to be an attorney, Jung Kook came home frequently to help her with house chores, cooking and anything else she wasn’t able to do on her own. 

As the pair were in the kitchen, Jung Kook’s hands full with a heavy pot of boiling water and sweet potato noodles, that he carried with an oven mitten on each hand, his mother asked him about his time at university. She sat at the kitchen counter, watching him work as they spoke. The question that always comes up, and that Jung Kook never knew how to answer, was when his mother politely and inevitably  asks, “Is there a special girl you’re seeing?” 

This time, Jung Kook chose to be honest with her. 

“There’s a special girl,” He replies, eyes focused on draining the boiling water into the kitchen sink, careful to keep the noodles in tact. “But I’m not seeing her.” 

“Ah, I see.” His mother nodded understandingly. “Does the special girl have a name?” 

“Yeah… Y/N.” He said with a small, growing smile, and his mother noted how his expression changed just at the mere mention of you. She knew immediately, without any doubt, that her son was absolutely taken with you. 

She smiled as she watched him run around the kitchen, placing the noodles back on the stove, then continuing to cook their family’s special japchae recipe for her. As content as she was with the man her son was becoming, being that he was smart, excelled in school, responsible and kind, she had always hoped he’d meet someone to make him happy. Jung Kook had spent so much of his life taking care of her, behaving just like his father, taking on the gentle protector and provider role. She hoped that he would meet a sweet girl who he could do that for, too. She knew her son too well, and recognized that he has so much more love to give. 

“She must be a great girl, to catch your attention.” She chuckled, and Jung Kook’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

“Eomma, stop.” He whined like a child, causing her to laugh.

“I know it’s true, because you’re a good man, Jung Kook.” She said, watching as he tossed the noodles together with the mix of vegetables and sauce. “Just keep trying, and keep being good to her, like I know you already are. One of these days, I’m sure you’ll win her over.” 

“Thanks, Eomma.” He said quietly and shyly, ending the topic by handing her a beige-colored bowl of japchae. “I hope this tastes like Appa’s.” 

“Your cooking always does.” 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Jung Kook lifted his head from the pillow, and felt around in the dark for his ringing cellphone by his bedside. The clock said 5 a.m. on a Tuesday, several hours before his time to clock in to the firm, and Namjoon’s caller I.D. was bright on his phone screen. He answered the phone with a drowsy, “Hello?” 

“Hello. My apologies for waking you, I know it’s early, but we have a situation.” Namjoon said, his words spilling out quick and panicked.  “I know you’ve recused yourself from the Park case, but you’re the only one I could think of to call. I need you at the hotel he and Y/N are staying at, as soon as you can get here.” 

“Wait, what?” Jung Kook said, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain when you get here, just please, be here soon, ok?” 

“Ok.” Jung Kook answered before hanging up the phone. 

He quickly threw together an outfit that was semi-professional, and did a quick brush of his teeth and hair, before grabbing his keys and phone, and bolting out the front door. Minutes felt like hours as he followed his map to the pinpointed location Namjoon had sent him. The city at this hour was strangely still and quiet, but his thoughts were anything but as he rushed through crosswalks and paced under street lights, thanking the universe for the lack of traffic at this time in the morning. His mind wandered, wondering what was going on, why he was called, and above everything else, are you ok? 

“Jung Kook! I’m so glad you’re here.” Namjoon called for him from across the street. Jung Kook looked both ways before he dashed across the road, meeting him in front of the hotel doors. “I’ll explain while we go up to their suite, come on.” 

Jung Kook matched his pace as they entered the building, quickly locating the elevator, and entering through its opened doors. 

“I called you because Y/N called me.” Namjoon explained, pressing the button for their floor. “You’re from Busan, how much do you know about Jimin? What have you heard?” 

“I uh, I knew his family name, like everyone does.” Jung Kook responded. “Honestly, I didn’t know anything about him until I met him.” 

“Ok, well let me fill you in quickly.” Namjoon said. The elevator dinged as it stopped, and the doors opened for the men to step  out and turn to the right, down the sleepy, luxurious hallway. “Rich kid heir, that much you know. He has a history of alcohol abuse that’s gotten him into some trouble, damaging his family’s reputation among other business leaders, because he’s the next in line to the company’s top position. His father told him not to get in any more trouble, or else he’d be cut off. Getting engaged to a good girl from a good family has been a great look for him. Changing from a party boy into a ‘husband-to-be’ does wonders for saving face.” 

“Ok…” Jung Kook said, listening intently.  

“It’s important to keep up that appearance. I’ve worked as the main attorney for the Park family for a long time now, and one thing to know about these wealthy families, is that while appearance is everything, it’s almost never true.” 

“Are you saying he doesn’t love her?” Jung Kook asked, his heart racing. 

“I’m not saying that. What I’m saying, is that it wasn’t enough to keep him away from the bottle. Y/N called me earlier, and she’s distraught. Something about a big fight, I couldn’t quite understand her over the phone. But it sounds like Jimin’s an absolute train wreck right now, and the last thing I need is for my high profile client and his fiancé to have a public blow out in a five star hotel, right before I'm about to argue that he can't be held liable for his bullshit.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“Personal back up.” Namjoon said, as they pause at the door. “It’s clear that she trusts you, so you’re on my DIY crisis team until we figure this out.” 

Namjoon knocked gently on the door, his demeanor changing from stern and focused, to delicate, matching the tone of the situation. Jung Kook could hear muffled cries behind the door, and all he wanted to do was to barge in, wrap you up in his arms, and take you as far away from this as he could. But he steadied his breath, needing to be a calm presence for you. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Namjoon asked softly, moving his ear towards the door. “It’s Namjoon, and Jung Kook’s here, too.” 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, a little hiccup to your voice. “O-One minute, please, Mr. Kim. I’ll be right there.” 

“We’ll be right here at the door, ok?” He said, a frown plastered on his face as he looked at Jung Kook, who seemed equally, if not more so, concerned. 

A few, long moments later, the two men heard the click of the lock, and then met the attention of the woman who was standing at the barely-opened door. You were dressed in a pink silk night gown, bare feet on the hardwood floors, and your hair was wet as you seemingly just exited the shower. But your face screamed that you were tired, like you hadn’t slept a wink before they arrived. Dark circles under your eyes, and dropping lids. Your skin dull, and cheeks red. 

“Y/N,” Jung Kook said, heart break evident in his voice. “Can we come in?” 

You nodded, and stepped to the side so they could enter. The luxury, executive suite had been turned upside down. Your clothes were scattered everywhere, across furniture and on the floor, mixed together with empty bottles of varieties of alcohol. As Namjoon walked through the suite, examining the damage, taking note of Jimin’s broken iPhone on the floor of the bedroom, Jung Kook made his way over to you. You slowly moved around the living room, attempting to clean up the mess. 

“I’m s-sorry, he’s not usually like this.” You explained in the smallest voice Jung Kook had ever heard. You collected garments from your wardrobe in your arms. “He’s always so sweet, y’know? He’s so good, he’s just dealing with stress and I…I..”

“Y/N.” Jung Kook cut you off from your rambling. Before even having time to realize what he was doing, his body took over to come in close to you and take your hand in his, making you drop your clothes to the floor. This was not how he wanted to hold your hand for the first time, but you needed someone there to steady you. “Come sit with me. Please.” 

You nodded, and followed him to the couch without letting go of his hand. Jung Kook, in that moment, felt like safety. He felt like a breath of fresh air, just as you were just about to suffocate. Your mind was quick to self-soothe, telling you, Jung Kook’s here. He’ll make it better. You weren’t sure why, chalking it up to a lack of sleep, but you truly believed that. He'll make it better.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Jung Kook asked, as delicately as he could. His thumb caressed your hand, trying to provide you with any comfort he could. 

“I… I wanted to leave.” You said quietly, looking down, unable to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. “He woke up, and-and started drinking again, and I….” You choked up, needing a moment, but tears were already flowing. “I love him, but I can’t watch him do this to himself. So I told him I was leaving, and he got so angry that he took the clothes that I was trying to pack, and threw them everywhere. Then I got upset, and I said I wanted to call Mr. Kim, b-because I knew he would help him. But Jimin didn’t like that, so he broke his phone...he threw it against the bedroom wall, t-to break it, to keep me from finding the number. But I was able to find Mr. Kim’s number anyways when Jimin fell asleep again. He’s just so tired, y’know? He just needs to rest, so he’ll be happy again, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I called…” 

“I’m glad you did.” Jung Kook said, his eyes locked on you. Listening to you try to take care of Jimin, despite how much he hurts you, shattered his heart. You deserve so much better than this, angel. Jung Kook thought to himself. “I- We, Mr. Kim and I, are always going to help you when you need us, ok? Never be afraid to call.” 

Namjoon stepped out of the bedroom, his jaw clenched in frustration, trying to keep his professional composure. 

“Mr. Park is asleep.” He said, his eyes glancing to the way Jung Kook held your hand, but seeing how you’ve settled, he decided against commenting. “Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?” 

“I’m ok.” You mumbled. “I told Jung Kook what happened… But, I called because I wanted to ask if you could help me, Mr. Kim.” 

“Yes, of course.” Namjoon said. “We’ll clean this up, don’t worry.”

"Thank you, but I actually needed help with something a bit more… legal?” You explained, and Jung Kook felt the way you gripped his hand, as though absentmindedly using him to support yourself. “Is there any possibility that we can defer Jimin’s court date, so that he can seek treatment?” 

“You’re asking that your fiancé spends some time in rehab?” Namjoon asks to confirm, and you nod. 

“I think it would be for the best. Last night was… scary, if I’m being honest with you, Mr. Kim.” You said, gripping Jung Kook’s hand once again. “He would never physically hurt me, please don’t misunderstand. I just haven’t seen him lose his temper like that, or drink in such an extreme way before. I don’t see how he can sit in a court room and properly handle himself right now.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Namjoon sighed. “Ok, Ms. Y/L/N. Between us, I have some pull with this judge, as I’ve worked in his courtroom several times. I’ll make some calls, and see what I can do. But will you do something for me?” 

“What is it?” 

“I want you to separate from Jimin for a while. This isn’t legal advice, and please forgive me for stepping out of line into personal business, but I just… I’m worried about you.” 

“I am, too.” Jung Kook spoke up, earning a look from Namjoon.

“I’m not sure where I’d go…”  

“We can help you move to a different hotel for the time being.” Namjoon offered. “Something nice, so you’re able to have some space.” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Kim. I’d rather not be alone right now…” 

“Then stay with me.” 

You and Namjoon both set your attention on Jung Kook. The words slipped from his lips before he had time to catch them, and now they floated in the air, waiting for a response of any kind. 

“Mr. Jeon, I’m not sure that’s appropriate.” Namjoon said sternly. 

“I’m not involved in this case professionally.” Jung Kook pushed back, before turning his attention to you. “I’m here as a friend. Y/N, I have a guest room that… honestly, may not be as big as what you’d like, but you won’t have to be alone. Please, just let me do this for you.” 

Namjoon didn’t like the hopeful tone of his colleague’s voice, or the line this was potentially crossing, but with your reservations about being alone, and his worry over keeping you with Jimin, he wasn’t sure he had a better option. 

“Ok.” You responded, the small smile on your lips being the first you’ve had in many hours. “That sounds nice, Jung Kook. Thank you.” 

 “Any time.” He responded, sounding relieved. 

“Let me grab some of my things, and I’ll meet you at the door.” You said, grabbing a handful of clothes from the floor and going to the bedroom to grab your bag. 

Namjoon shot Jung Kook a knowing look from across the room, with eyebrows raised and arms crossed. 

“I’m trusting you.” Namjoon told him as soon as he knew you weren’t listening. “Don’t let that be a mistake by being a fucking idiot.” 

“I won’t.” Jung Kook said, sure of himself and of the situation. 

A few silent moments passed before you were standing at the door with a weekender bag in hand. Jung Kook gave Namjoon a nod as he got off the couch and walked over to you, taking your bag to carry for you, and opening the door for you to exit out of the hotel suite. 

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

More

My entry for the @pickled-pena challenge!

Summary: You meet Javier Peña on a New Years Eve party. A year later you're still together, making plans for the future.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: M

Warnings: falling in love, fluff, pregnancy, dumb puns, kissing, suggestive language, awful lot talk of pickles

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A new year always seemed to come with expectations. You never really understood why everyone was expected to celebrate the changing of the years. Why everyone expected everyone to be in a good mood and wanting to celebrate the changing of years.

All New Years eve to you was, was your parents now not needing an excuse to get drunk and party when you were growing up. They were young when you were born. Just out of high school. And they tried, at least in the beginning from what you could remember. 

You did not like New Years eve, and you hated new years resolutions. They never worked for you you, so you didn’t bother. And you did not celebrate New Years.

That was until last year when your best friend dragged you to a house party, making you wear a dress you didn’t like but according to her making you look like a dream. 

You never really went out, too busy with work and spending time in bed reading. 

But his night, maybe after a couple of drinks you made a vow to yourself (not a resolution mind you) to be more open, to get out more, to maybe even find love. 

That it would happen on the same night was not something you could have ever imagined. 

You and Javier met twenty minutes after midnight. 

He invited you for a free drink after saving you from the drunkest man you had ever encountered with the most stupid pick up line ever. You thought he was just being nice to you. It would take almost three weeks for you to figure out that he was genuinely interested in you. 

You were more or less inseparable ever since. 

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with Javier Peña. 

He was still fighting his own demons, having spent years in the drug war in Columbia you only read about in the newspapers about. He had moved to Portland, Texas to be close to his father, but also have a new start where nobody knew him. 

He told you almost everything about his time with the DEA, wanting you to know what kind of person he was, his mind made up about not deserving something good, something to love, to be loved. 

It took some time to make him understand that you were in this for the long haul.

Something that came even more apparent when you found out your were pregnant just five months after making things official with him. 

It’s how you found yourself six months pregnant on a ranch in Laredo, Texas on New Years eve. Javier’s father had invited you both to spend the holidays with him, wanting to get to know you, and while you were hesitant at first because of your past with your family, you quickly found yourself wondering if this was what the future would look like. 

Lazy Christmas mornings spend with Javier in bed before you made breakfast. Chucho insisting on making the whole Christmas dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen everytime you even intended to help. 

Presents wrapped under the Christmas tree.

It was like a dream. 

Javier was out to help his father take care of the animals while you were preparing some potato salad for lunch. You were looking for the glass of pickles (well one of them, you had to have at least four different sorts in the house all the time because you had been craving different kinds) when the door opened behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw Javier walk in, brushing his hands over his jeans, wearing a Cowboy hat on his head, before he gave you a small smile. 

„Whatcha up to baby?“ He asked, walking over to you. 

„Searching for the glass of pickles I need for the salad,“ you hummed, still on your tiptoes as you looked inside the fridge. 

„Any specific kind?“ He asked. You felt his hand on your back and sighed. 

„The ones with the red label on the jar?“ You said, still looking. They had a shitload of Garlic in them and you were craving garlic pickles. For the salad of course. Just for the salad.

He hummed, pushing the fridge closed and you pouted and turned around, finding him smiling down at you. 

„If I remember correctly you ate the rest of those last night,“ he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You widened your eyes. 

„I did not,“ you hissed.

„Did so. Found the whole jar empty this morning, next to an almost empty bottle of whipped cream,“ he nodded, trying to lean in to kiss you but you narrowed your eyes, bringing one of your hands up, your finger tipping pointing against his chest. 

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?“ You asked and he huffed, still smiling. He leaned in, his lips at your ear. 

„I was trying to get some sleep after you jumped me and made me made you cum four times,“ he whispered and your lips parted in mock shock, releasing a shaky breath. 

„I made you? If I remember correctly you were very much into it, Mr. Peña,“ you teased and he shrugged. 

„Never said I wasn’t,“ he finally kissed you and you hummed against his lips. 

„Where’s your dad?“ You asked against his lips. 

„Going to the store to get you your pickles,“ he grinned and you laughed. 

„So that means… We have an empty house to ourselves for what? An hour?“ You asked. 

„He’s gonna visit his brother too, so more like three hours,“ he nodded. 

„Hmm…“ you hummed, bringing our arms up, your hands crossing behind his neck. 

„Mhhh…“ he hummed back, his lips slowly wandering down your jaw. 

„What… ever will we do with all that time?“ You asked innocently. He grinned at you, slowly turning you and walking you towards his bedroom, his lips on yours. 

„Wanna check how often I can hide my pickle inside of you?“ he asked and you both started laughing seconds after. 

„You did not just say that,“ you giggled, shaking your head. 

„Yeah I can not believe I just said that either,“ he shook his head, helping you sit down on the bed when you made it to the bedroom. 

You let yourself fall back, sliding into the middle of the mattress, looking up at him. 

„Only you could say something this stupid and still have me dripping for you,“ you sighed, parting your legs. Hungry eyes followed your every move, your fingers as the slowly pulled on the dress you were wearing, revealing more and more of your skin to his eyes. 

„Yeah?“ He asked, his voice dark.

You let your eyes wander the length of his body, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, his cock already hard inside his jeans. Still wearing that cowboy hat.

„Wanna eat my pussy?“ You grinned and he groaned. 

„Fuck yeah.“

It was in the early morning hours of the new year that you found yourself in front of the fireplace next to the Christmas tree, laying with your back against Javier’s chest.

His father had gone to sleep shortly after midnight, leaving the two of you alone. 

„Any resolutions for the new year?“ You asked him, his hand slowly rubbing over your growing stomach. 

„Many,“ he said, his lips close to your ear. 

„Me too,“ you nodded. 

„Wanna share?“ He asked. You shook your head no.

„Don’t wanna jinx it,“ you said and he sighed. 

„Yeah, me neither.“

„Got one I wanna share though,“ you hummed, a smile playing on your lips. 

„Yeah?“

„Gonna love you even more this year than I did last year,“ you whispered, feeling his arms tightening around you. 

„Still love you more,“ he hummed and kissed you neck.

[lilacargent]

Here we go again,

Puzzles/ jigsaws would confuse Aliens so much

Set on the serpentine, beginning of the humans tenure

Important crew:

Primoz, captain -Limoyh a four armed species-Krag, second in command (brother of Primoz)

Kit, dokter -avian, bird like, she has feathers like a swallow-

Ortez, ASR (all species resources, human resources in space) -kiltak, insectoid species, think ants but exoskeleton-

Lugea, helmsperson (does the steering) -rock like alien-

Artex, engineer/mechanic 1 -also Kiltak-

And then our humans:

Kamari, navigator -Eritrean woman- (has cat named Sidra)

Markus, weapons expert (knows how to use them and upkeep, also shields) -Swedish man-

Petrus, mechanic/engineer 2 - Italian man-

Lilly, administrator/note keeper (learns languages for fun)-english woman-

~~~~~~~

Puzzles

The serpentine is on route between trading posts, this is currently the furthest route without proper jump point because of the static energy surrounding the dual planets castor and pollux.

Primoz is getting worried. The humans are becoming increasingly more jittery and Kamari looks like she a pinch away from punch someone, Markus has been ‘humming’ a song that annoys her greatly. Honestly the noises the tall man is making don’t seem that bad but every few minutes her eyebrows twitch which Ortez told him is a sign of frustration.

Before the captain can figure out how to keep them from doing something deathworld worthy, Lilly comes in with precariously stacked carton boxes and Petrus carrying a table. Setting the pile down the smallest human straightens out “look what i brought! Old earth puzzles! This one has a deer and this one has the old world wonders” immediately the humming stops and Markus is at the table with Petrus “oh yes Lilly you are the best! I wanna do the deer one, that is gonna be a challenge”

With the table in the corner of the bridge the tension among crew is nearly gone, as all species try to put the cut apart pictures together, Lilly brought 9 puzzles and at a certain point a competition was forming: after one of the human unit had finished a puzzle the other crew try to make it in less time. They have yet to win.

Looking at his relaxed crew Primoz grins at his brother who is trying to use all his four arms to put pieces together without much succes. Turning away from the competition he taps Lilly on her shoulder “how do you guys do it? Also why did you think to take these things with you.” Lilly looks up from her drawing (the crew bent over the table making the puzzle) “well i knew it was going to be a long trip, Kamari thinks Markus will be ‘professional’ but he can’t help himself” her soft smile when she puts air punctuation around professional makes her look much younger than she is “puzzles are something many humans enjoy, not everyone is as good at them as Markus, but he does this thing where he uses the shape of them more than colours. While he isn’t colour blind, he has real trouble with telling differences in shades. No idea why it works this well but it does, Petrus has already won three nights of free drinking on Castor from betting.” All of a sudden looking bashful Lilly ducks her head “ah eh yes sorry forget i said that we don’t bet on this at all!” Primoz just grins “nobody has broken anything this whole trip, im not going to disrupt the flow you and your unit created. Don’t worry.”

At arrival Petrus has won the whole human crew free drinks for the foreseeable future, and the crew in its entirety hooked on puzzles. While not all species see the colours the same way or understand the patterning in the pieces the feeling of putting in the correct pieces makes it such an enjoyable activity that Lilly brings new puzzles after every holiday back home.

~~~~~~~~~

This one was born out of the confusion my family had when we were making puzzles (jigsaws?) the pictures in pieces… this is where it becomes super clear English is not my first language. Anyway, we had two puzzles out and they were so surprised i could differentiate the positions the pieces needed to be in without context. I had to tell them that the pattern otherwise won’t make sense,

I have the same thing as Markus that colours are fine unless you put several of the same colours next to each other and call them different. This is why the deer one is super hard,

The two puzzles that were described:

[kisses4kaia]

please i am on my knees begging for billy…you write him so well…

yes baby whatever you want—implication oral sex (f recieving) but no real smut i fear :((, very very very slight internalized misogyny (r is just jealous), billy being a cocky dick (the best kind)

billy was yours and that was that.

with that damn leash you kept on him, it was never questioned why billy never went home with any girls at the saloon after a game of poker, whether he won or lost. because as probable as it was the sun would come up the next day, it was just as likely it would be you he’d lay in bed next to, fucking you with just about as much passion as he would have exerted in a goddamn battlefield.

you never had to worry about him straying, because you knew you had him and nobody could ever replace what you give him in a lover, but that never meant his born reckless soul wasn’t going to push boundaries.

she had painted fingernails, corset cinched to the maximum degree of discomfort, and a flawless, straight-like-a-ruler, smile. she came from money and her name was something like margaret, or margaux—something french, probably. she was classy and beautiful and not billy’s type. you could have laughed when you saw her saunter over to billy’s barstool.

before looking at her, he paid her no mind, listening to her talk about how lonely he looked on a beautiful evening like this one, and how he doesn’t look like he belongs here. the same tired lines every girl used every time, and he probably would have shooed her away if his eyes hadn’t landed on the daggers you shot at her with your shattering gaze.

his smirk was quick to make itself known, letting his eyes run over her body as he straightened his posture. you couldn’t exactly hear what was being discussed over the conversation buzz swallowing the sound scape. you did, however, hear margaret/margaux laugh, so trained, so light and airy and feminine and infuriating. you didn’t grow up in a country house or paint your nails, the different appropriate kinds of laughters were never discerned in your taught etiquette.

nothing about you was light or airy or feminine and here billy was, flirting with those very things personified like you didn’t have him pleading with you to stop cumming less than 24 hours ago. you were probably steaming at the ears at this point.

abandoning the dull conversation surrounding the upcoming horse races with a friendly barkeep, you put one cowgirl boot in front of the other as you blaze over to billy. “come on, we’re leaving.” you say jaggedly, hardly sparing margaret/margaux a single glance.

“is this your friend?” she asks with a tone so sweet and pitchy it almost makes your eye twitch.

“yes.”

“no.”

the woman looked simply confused at your contrasting answers and quite politely excused herself as your eyes yielded a dangerous hail down onto him. he sighed, taking his time as he finished his drink—rising from his barstool, paying the barkeep, grabbing his hat and jacket—and finally walking out of the saloon with you.

as soon as the door shut to billy’s current homestead you shared, you stomped in silence to the bedroom. “where you going, baby?” he called out, not wincing, and pushing past the nearly slammed door after you. he enters to see you pacing, practically fuming.

“what’s wrong, darlin’?” he approached you and uncrossed your arms, looking down at you as if you were wounded. you hated these stares of him because it was so hearty and intense and all about you.

“you were practically sticking your dick in her! that lady, the one who obviously wanted you to take her out back,” you spit out all at once. your language was often crude, but it never made billy wince the way it made other men react. billy just smiled as though he pitied you, kissing the top of your head. you forced your arms to sides as he wrapped his around you. “you jealous?” he laughed after pulling you away from his chest and looking back down at you again.

you rolled your eyes, scoffing and tearing yourself out of his hold, walking away from him. your arms crossed in front of your chest. “i am not jealous, i am simply… perplexed.”

this seemed to amuse him. “uh huh. well, you don’t got anythin’ to worry about, baby. dontch’ya know i’m crazy about you?” his drawl drew you towards him again. his eyes were glimmering with honesty, soothing your jealousy slightly.

“you sure?” you said with a slight pout as billy pulls you in once more.

“need me to prove it to you?” the ask wasn’t posed so much as a question as a request as he sunk down slowly onto his knees in front of you. you laughed, nodding eagerly as you helped him unbutton your denim.

[askinkiskarma]

Lo'ak x Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: angst, suggestive language, cursing

Word count: 3,1k words

Notes: surprise!! here I am once more writing things outside of what I had planned to, but people have been asking for a Lo'ak story and you know me besties, I aim to please. I really loved writing Lo'ak in my Cardigan series, so I'm excited about this. enjoy x

Na'vi words used: ma 'ite - daughter; sa'nok - mother; skxawng - idiot; tsantu - good guy, txepvi - spark

next part (x)

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain He wanted a bride, I was making my own name He stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight

You and Lo’ak have been friends for longer than you can remember. Literally. You couldn’t remember becoming friends, because, as Neytiri loves reminding you both, your connection was immediate and permanent.

“Did you know, ma ‘ite, that you and Lo’ak held hands for the first time when you had just been born? Yes, yes… he was just a few months old when we brought him by as you were born, and your little fingers wrapped around him when he reached out for you. You were so tiny, the most precious baby. And I’m pretty sure my son fell in love with you that day.” 

“SA’NOK!” 

You laughed as Lo’ak’s face dropped in shock, and smiled almost bashfully as he shuddered when your fingers made contact with the freckles on his cheek, that shone brighter than they normally do, probably due to the deep contrast between them and the new shade of purple that signalled a beautiful blush, that you could never get used to, no matter how many times you have seen it through the years. 

“Oh, son, am I embarrassing you?” 

He huffed and got up from where he stood, and you joined in as all the family starting laughing at the beautiful boy that left the tent stomping, his tail swishing furiously behind him. 

You scoffed softly and followed him, rolling your eyes as Spider made kissy noises and Neteyam chuckled to himself. 

“Wait up, skxawng.” 

“I’m so damn tired of being my family’s clown.” 

“Oh, Lo’ak…” you caught up to him outside of the village, and took his hand in yours to stop him in his tracks. He didn’t look at you, even as you manoeuvred around him to come face to face with this boy the you loved so much, this boy who knew you, who you knew, who will always be everything to you.

“You’re nobody’s clown, Lo'ak. We all love you so much, but you take things too seriously. It wouldn’t be funny if you didn’t get so upset about it. What’s so bad about your mother said? I think it’s sweet.”

Your hand trailed up his arm slowly, and you saw goosebumps appear in its wake, and you smiled at the reaction his body had to your touch. Your hand stopped as it reached his face, that you caressed, and his lips, lips that you’ve dreamt about, that you loved the thought of, that you could feel on yours in dreams and wishful reveries. The same purple tint took over his features once more, and you couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t help the way your face inched closer to his, closer and closer, until your lips touched. It was so soft - the kiss, his lips, the feelings that enveloped you. It felt like home. He felt like home. 

“I think you’re sweet. And I think I fell in love with you the day I was born, too. I think it's always been you, Lo’ak.” 

He could no longer be upset at his mother after that, not when her meddling led to the happiest day of his life. 

Lo’ak loved watching you get ready for battle. How could he not, when your body, tall and supple, a body that had such grace and elegance to it, he felt everyone else in the world would be privileged to ever get to see, was now covered in war paint that complimented your blue skin so well. Orange and yellow lines travelled from your face to your neck, and Lo’ak stood there, mouth agape, once again needing to thank Eywa for whatever luck or happenstance brought you in his life. 

You looked up at him, a mischievous gleam in your big yellow eyes, one that he knew too well, one that seemed ever-present on your face. This look and all it encompassed is why he called you what he did. Txepvi. Spark. His spark. As much as his family gave him grief about his own behaviour, about this recklessness and propensity to get himself into trouble, you were worse - much worse. Always looking for adventure, for danger, for adrenaline rushes that electrified your senses and set your body ablaze. You told him once that you needed it, needed this. That it made you feel alive. You always said there has to be more to life than sitting in the village every day, learning to weave, learning about plants and how to best combine them to make pastes and ointments. You were bored easily, bored of the same mundane, of the same routines, so you always looked for new ones. And you got exactly what you wanted when the Sky People returned. 

Lo’ak knows you hated it, hated them, that you would have happily watched all of them die at your hands, but he also knew that deep down you loved it. Loved how each day was a new challenge, was a new opportunity to prove to yourself, and to him, and to the Olo’eyktan, that you were an asset, that you would be worthy of one day of being Neytiri’s successor, of your parents’ legacy as warriors that gave their lives in the war that came to their doorstep so many years ago. 

“I want you to mark me. You always bring me good luck. And I need it today. I want your hand on me, on my heart. I need a reminder of what’s good in the world. Of what’s mine.” 

Lo’ak’s heart was booming in his ears at your words. You have always been brave. You had a strong heart. You always knew your own mind, always knew what you wanted, who you wanted. And he still couldn’t believe his luck that what you wanted was him. You pushed the bowl of paint towards him and eyed him expectantly, and he obliged you. He placed his five-fingered hand palm first in the bowl and watched as the paint dripped back in it as he removed it, trying to shake off the excess so it doesn’t mess with the design already on your body. Trying to calm his thoughts, he placed his hand on your chest, right in between your breasts, and felt your own heart beating loudly against him, and he smirked, placated in knowing he wasn’t the only one whose emotions were running wild, whose desires were pulsating through every fibre of his being. 

“I still think it’s unfair you get to fight while I am still stuck being a spotter. You’re younger than me, for fuck’s sake.” 

“I’m better than you, ma tsantu, how many times do I have to prove it to you?” 

He scoffed, and tugged at your beaded top until your lips connected, the white paint on your lips smudged and diffused now, coating his own, and he didn’t care. He thought it was fair, that there were physical traces of you on him, coating his body like you did his being, his heart and soul. Your tongue traced his bottom lip and explored and he let you, meeting you halfway, a messy needy dance that left him panting and weak. He kissed you to shut you up, but now he was the one speechless. How did this always happen? 

You pecked him once more, then moved to reapply the painting that had just been erased. He could hear the small smile in your voice as you spoke. 

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t want you to put yourself at risk. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, and doesn’t want Neteyam to get hurt trying to protect you, like he always does. He doesn’t have the same compulsions with me. That's why you're a spotter and I'm not.” 

You grinned at him, your large, sharp canines coming into view, and he yelped a little as you directed them to his neck, biting on it until a sharp sting traveled through his body. You licked the blood that came out of the two small puncture wounds and he shuddered at your touch. 

“Come, mighty warrior. Let’s go show them what happens when they mess with the Omatikaya.” 

It was surreal to you, how much life changed, how fast life changes. It seemed like yesterday that you were swinging through the trees of the Omatikaya forest, innocent and mild, just happy to exist, happy to be alive, happy that there was air in your lungs and sun shining through the leaves and hitting your bare skin, that soaked it all, that loved it, loved every ray, loved it all. You were different now, so different you could barely recognise yourself. You don’t know if child you would have liked the current you… or vice versa. Current you wanted more. More than just the forest, more than just being, and existing peacefully, more than what every other Omatikaya seemed to be satisfied with. You wanted chaos, and pain. You wanted deep, earth-shattering experiences, you wanted life to course through your veins like ice water through the stream near the village. You wanted to fly and you wanted to fall, you wanted to be remembered, you wanted to be revered. You wanted everything. 

You knew the Sullys would be angry at you for taking their son away again, for bringing him along with you on one of your unprompted and unplanned trips, where you just got on your ikran and didn’t look back for days, until you discovered something new, something more than what you knew. It was your favourite thing to do, outside of what you were currently doing, limbs tangled with this boy that brought light to your life, and shivers down your spine. 

“I can’t believe this place. It might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, present company excluded, of course.”

You giggled and propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the beach that surrounded your entire line of sight, on this beautiful small tropical island. You flew until you reached the Eastern Sea, and your sights both locked on this little slice of Paradise, that felt so isolated, so wild and untamed, so untouched by Na’vi or animals alike, and you knew this was the place to spend the night, with nothing but the endless stars watching over you. You never got to see the sky like this in the forest, so clear and unperturbed by all the trees obstructing the view - yet another reason you loved your little adventures. 

“My dad’s going to kill me when I get home, you know? And then he’ll kill you.” 

“I know. But that’s a problem for future me. Present me wants to swim in the ocean, and she wants you to join me. She’ll show you a good time. You won’t think about your dad anymore by the end, I promise.” 

He growled lowly at your words, and followed you as you got up and ran into the water, diving for its depths, revelling in this feeling you hoped would never end, and in his presence, that quieted the tumult that was ever-present in your mind. You loved him. He was your home, your calm. He was the best thing in the world, and he was yours. 

You felt nervous as Lo'ak entered your tent, a troubled, tearful look on his face, one that meant danger, one that meant hurt, for both of you.

“Dad says we have to go. I have to go.” 

Your mind went blank at his words, a new feeling for you. You couldn’t quite understand what he was telling you.

“Go? Go where?” 

“The Metkayina. He says we’re to start a new life there.” 

“But… but you can’t go. He’s the Olo’eyktan, he’s the Toruk Makto. You can’t just up and leave us.” 

You watched as Lo’ak’s face changed from sorrow to anger, directed at you, at his father, at the world - you couldn’t quite tell. 

“Do you think I want to fucking go? Do you think I chose this? I don’t get to choose what happens, none of us do, but this is happening.”

You felt tears pricking at your eyes painfully, but you couldn't shed them yet, not when it felt like there was still so much heartbreak still waiting to ambush you.

“So you’re just going to leave me? Leave what we have behind?” 

His eyes softened at your words, as he approached you and his hands immediately found your face, the face he adored more than everything else in the world. 

“Of course not. I could never leave you. I love you. I’ve loved you my whole life, I have dreamt about your life woven with mine for as long as I can remember. I have always known you were the one, the only one. I never had the courage to tell you, but you did. You told me, and you kissed me, and I am so grateful. So grateful that you chose me, so grateful that I get to know that you’re mine, that our children will be the best warriors this clan has ever seen, just like their mother is.” 

Your heart fluttered upon hearing his confession, and a smile swiftly replaced your deep frown and stubborn tears. You couldn’t help tightening your arms around his waist and pulling his body into yours, until you felt every crevice, every indentation, every scar and mark on it, until you were so close you felt like you were becoming one, unable to ever be separated again. 

“I don’t understand, Lo’ak. What are you saying?” 

“I want you to come with me. You have to come with me. I can’t live without you, and I know you feel the same. We have to be together, and this way we get to.”

It quickly felt like the world quieted around you, dead quiet, like a grave or an unopened tomb, like no life has ever touched it.

You have to come with me. I can’t live without you.

You didn’t notice your arms dropped sluggishly to your side until Lo’ak grabbed them and tugged at them, at you, trying to pull you out of your lethargic state. 

“Ma txepvi… please say you’ll come. Please.” He was pleading now, anguish coating every word as he was pushing them out, and you felt it all, deep within your soul, you felt it overtaking you too, felt it killing you as you knew what you had to do, knew what you had to say. 

“No.”

As soon as the word escaped your lips, so did a pained sob escape Lo’ak’s. 

“No?” 

And there they were, the tears, the hot tears that stung each inch of your body they travelled down to, the tears that signified the end of childhood, the end of peace, the end of your life as you knew it, of happiness as you dreamt it.

“I can’t, Lo’ak. You can’t ask this of me. You know me, you know me better than anyone else. You want me to give up everything I have worked so hard for, everything I have yearned for, everything that’s finally within my grasp, all of it, to come and be at the Metkayina’s beck and call? To be a trainee again, to be useless again? To give up my bow, my mother’s bow, and pick up a spear, to give up my ikran, my sister, for some sea creature that will never compare?” 

He was crying, too, painfully tugging at your arms, hoping that by doing so, you wouldn’t leave him, you would change your mind, you wouldn’t do what he feared you would, what he always dreaded. He always wondered if he would ever be enough for you, and he was terrified that, each moment passed, it seemed as if he got his answer, the monstrous answer he didn’t know if he could deal with.

“I’m asking you to be with me. I’m asking you to love me the way I love you, I am asking you to give us a chance to grow old together.”

 

The pain was shooting through your body like a lightning hit, powerful and all-consuming, and you felt as though you were going to drown in your own tears, and you would welcome it, welcome the sudden death, welcome the chance to be put out of your misery. This is what you wanted, you thought bitterly to yourself. You always wanted pain and hurt. You wanted to feel alive. Now you did. So alive it felt like death, it felt like your demise, it felt like everything and nothing, like the beginning and the end.

“I love you. I will always love you. And I am sorry. But I am more than this. I have more to give to the world, to this clan, than just myself to you. Someone has to stay behind and protect the people when your whole family is gone. Someone has to stay and fight. There’s still so much of the world I’ve yet to see, so much of myself I have yet to meet. I can’t let you take that away from me, Lo’ak. I’m sorry.” 

You didn't wait for his response as you removed your body from his grasp, that all of a sudden felt trapping, felt suffocating, and took off, leaving nothing but heartache and the shattered promises of a picture perfect future, of love and a shiny family, of a life worth living, but one that wasn't yours.

"Good job today. It's been tough dealing with the demons on our own, without our Toruk Makto, but you're doing great. You're indispensable to our clan, to this village. I hope you know that."

"I know, Tarsem. Thank you." you brought your fingers to your forehead and bode the new Olo'eyktan and the Tsa'hik a goodnight, and made your way out of the tent quietly.

This place felt empty in the months following their departure... his departure. You felt his absence in your every bone. You felt it in the loneliness that haunted you every night, in your body that ached for his touch and warmth, in your mind that never knew peace, not anymore. You wondered if he felt the same. If he ever thought about you, about what you had. You wondered if he's doing well, adapting well, if he found himself a girl, quiet and beautiful, smart and kind, that wanted everything you didn't, that was able to fill the hole you left behind. You hoped he did. You hoped he didn't.

I guess sometimes we all get Just what we wanted And I never think of him Except on midnights like this 

dk about a p2 but we'll see how my besties feel x

thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers xo

[subliminalbo]

The Stepford Salesman

"Wow," Brad blinked. "I know," Jimmy Hooker replied with a wide grin. "She's so—" Brad stammered, searching for the right words. "Made to order," Jimmy assisted.

Standing before Brad and Jimmy was Samantha Baldwin—or the woman who had been Samantha Baldwin. Jimmy had led the new Samantha into the room to present herself to Brad, guiding her by the hand like a servant escorting a princess to the big ball. But now, the way Jimmy stood there next to Brad in his pinstripe suit and gaudy floral patterned tie, his hands spread out in a "tad-da!" pose, he looked more like a two-bit used car salesman. That made Samantha was the '81 Pontiac Firebird that he was trying to upsell.

Brad cocked his head to the side, examining all the angles of his new girlfriend. Samantha, who had entered the room with a beaming smile, was now standing silently, emotionless. Awaiting appraisal.

"The hair?" Brad asked. "Why so...groovy?"

"That's the style all the husbands want," Jimmy replied in his rapid fire way of speaking. "It's a thing, y'know? The retro housewife. Pie on the windowsill, dinner on the table, nobody locks their doors. Reminds 'em of the way things used to be." "I was born in 1995." Brad replied. "Well, if it's not your fit, we can give her a new look. The Rachel. Remember the Rachel?" "Can she speak?" Brad interrupted.

"Of course!" Jimmy clapped Brad on the back. "Even better, she can speak in twenty languages now. She can suck your cock in Cantonese."

Brad swallowed. "I dunno, Mr. Hooker." "Brad," Jimmy shook his head. "Need I remind you that she wanted this?"

Brad knew that was true, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Jimmy was some kind of con artist who had played Samantha into accepting the conversion. Jimmy had been in town for a few weeks and the speed at which he'd begun converting the women of Romero into wifebots, or Stepfords as he called them, was alarming. All consensual, Jimmy swore, but somehow Hooker's pitch had made Brad even more skeptical.

It was Samantha who made the call. She had always been a submissive person, but lately she had been craving to be controlled. The prospect of a full transformation into a loyal Stepford wife was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Brad didn't know how Jimmy had swindled the rest of the town's wives into conversions, but for Samantha it was the natural next step in their lives together.

"Samantha?" Brad asked.

Samantha blinked. Awareness returned to her eyes as if a switch had been flipped in her head. Her gaze locked on Brad as she registered his status in her databank.

Unit Samantha: active. Status: submissive. Controller: Brad.

"Hello, my darling," Samantha smiled. "How do you feel, hon?" Brad asked slowly.

She said with a little tilt of the head, "I feel wonderful, my darling. How may I service you?" "Service me?" Brad repeated. "As your loyal wife, I am sworn to service you in a number of duties including: cooking, cleaning, conversation, and stimulation."

Only one word stuck in Brad's head.

"Wife?" Brad repeated.

"Oh yeah," Jimmy chuckled. "I took care of that for you. All above board, legit paperwork. I know a guy who knows a guy."

"Would you like me to suck your cock?" Samantha smiled.

Brad combed his fingers nervously through his hair.

"Go ahead, slugger," Jimmy encouraged him with a playful elbow to the side. "Take her for a test run. If it's not the best fuck you ever had, you get your money back. One hundred percent guarantee." "She really wanted this?" Brad asked. "We were gonna have a destination wedding."

"Of course she did!" Jimmy reassured him. "You can still have your destination wedding, people do it all the time after getting hitched at the courthouse. It's just a formality. I sell Stepford wives, not girlfriends."

Activating: Oral Stimulation Program

As Jimmy danced off to count his money, Samantha dropped to her knees before Brad. He resented how the sight of his girlfriend all made up like a mindless 60's housewife could make him so hard. His cock was ready to spill from his jeans by the time she finished with the buckle.

The awareness in Samantha's eyes melted away once again as she opened wide. She took him in her mouth, and Brad knew instantly that Jimmy had been right. His new wife was worth every penny.

[porcelainmoth]

Blitzø and Rosie with a autistic s/o 🌈♾️

A/n: I know everyone with autism experiences it differently so this just based on my personal experience.

Warnings: Language, Mentions of c@nnibalism, Mentions of death but nothing dark, Blitzø being Blitzø, mention of overstimulation. Let me know if I missed anything.

Suggested by @glittersparkles02

Rosie 🌹💀

Rosie of course was born in a time where nobody really knew or had much knowledge of such things so when you casually brought it up to her one day while y'all were having tea she of course she didn't quite understand.

"Oh? That's....wonderful darling?" She says smiling even though she obviously didn't have much of a clue what you were talking about.

You explained it to her the best you could.

"Oh so your brain is different? There's nothing wrong with that. Come here my darling." She says holding out her arms bringing you into a tight embrace lovingly stroking your cheek.

"And if anyone treats you any different or makes fun of you for it I'll turn them into a divine stew."

"What?"

"Kidding Dear!" She laughs.

Like Alastor she of course isn't familiar or concerned with modern technology so she'll go to someone more knowledgeable about it such as Charlie who happens to be resourceful since her father is autistic as well!

She'll research it through books and studies.

"Darling I have a surprise for you. Don't open your eyes until I say to." She sings in a cheery voice.

You nod and keeping your eyes closed as you feel her place something in your hands.

"Open them!" She says grinning from ear to ear.

You look down at the foreign object in your hand observing it. It's a tiny black box with a red ribbon. You begin to open and a gasp escapes your mouth.

"Is this....?" You whisper and begin to tear up.

Rosie frowns upon seeing your reaction.

"What's the matter dear. Do you not like it?" She asks nervously.

"Like it? I-I love it! Thank you so much." You quickly pull her into a tight hug crying into her shoulder. Still being put off by your reaction she hesitates a second before awkwardly wrapping her slender arms around your figure rubbing your back as you cry.

It's a little charm bracelet. On it it's lined with tiny red roses, little skulls and in the centerpiece a heart with a infinity symbol in the middle of it. The material is soft and squishy but it's the most beautiful and uniquely crafted thing you've ever seen.

"It's beautiful..."

You look up at her and she smiles sweetly back at you.

"I-I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting this. This is the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me."

She grins giving you a kiss on your forehead before pulling you into her lap.

"Well if anything you oughta thank Charlie. She's the true genius." She smiles taking the bracelet and slides it onto your wrist. Admiring it she points out what each of the little charms stand for.

"Roses to represent your beauty. Skulls to represent that even in death we'll never be apart. And a heart to represent my love for you. Oh and the infinity sign um I don't really understand but I know it's important to you. Charlie said it has something to do with autism." She says scratching the back of her head.

You giggle. You'd have to explain that to her another time. You sigh burying your face into her neck. She smiles and holds you close.

"Je t'aime."

"Did Alastor teach you that?" You chuckle.

"Je t'aime aussi."

Blitzø🐴😈

Honestly he doesn't really notice at first until you bring it up to him.

When you tell him he just goes "Oh really? Okay lol."

Is more protective of you afterwards. Not because he thinks you can't handle yourself but he knows how shitty other and downright brutal other demons can be.

"Listen babe. I don't care what any dick-swinging bastard's gotta say you are amazing and so very fucking special and if anyone can't see that then fuck em'. Well don't actually fuck them...but you know what I mean." He says trying not to sound all sentimental causing you to crack up.

When y'all are in public and you start to stim. He encourages you to let loose and be yourself. And if another demon stares at you funny he'll kindly tell them to fuck off.

"Fuck you lookin' at?" He hisses and wraps his arm around you.

Buys you that one shirt that says "You call it autism. I call it having that dawg in me."

Honestly he isn't all touchy feely but he tries his best to comfort you if you're feeling overstimulated. Wanna cuddle? He's gotcha. Need to be given some space. No problem.

Tries his best to be supportive and thoughtful of your needs.

Absolutely spoils the shit out of you and buys you lots of sensory stuff like fidget toys, and weighted blankets or anything that you want.

At the end of the day. He just wants to make sure you're happy.

A/n: I didn't really know what to put for Blitzø at the end so sorry if it was kind of cheesy. As always take care ❤️

[pycobutterpie]

Stranger in my kitchen

Summary: Dean goes full to protective dad mode, as he sees a stranger in his kitchen touching his daughter.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: firing a gun in front of a baby

Word Count: 1392

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please don't judge me for using a translator for this original text. I wrote it together with my friend Minnie who has added the part of Lu and Y/N. We are so exited to add something to this beautiful community of writing for dean. Also this is my first fanfic ever published outside my inner circle of writing friends. (In our story it also became true, that Dean is Bens real father. And Bobby never died. ;) )

[Y/N's POV] It was actually a normal day at the Winchesters' house. Dean had been on a hunt with Bobby and should be home soon. Ben was still sleeping his bed upstairs. The two dogs were running around in the garden and also needed a little time to themselves… Baby Cassidy was already awake with her mother Y/N. Cassy was in damn good hands and was currently sitting in a little baby bouncer on the kitchen counter and Y/N was clearing out the dishwasher. But they weren't alone. On one of the bar stools sat a man, not much older than Y/N and Dean, in a smart dark blue suit and white shirt that wasn't completely buttoned up. In his hand was a steaming cup of coffee and on his hand was a ring with a black rectangular stone in it. With the other hand, he nudged Cassy's bouncer and smirked at her. Y/N had just tied her hair up in a bun and was wearing just a top and hot pants as she crouched behind the counter at the dishwasher. Cassy started laughing and just babbled to herself.

[Dean's POV] Hunting. An activity in which Dean felt completely free and could rely entirely on his instincts. It was what he had learned, what he was born for. Making the world a better place, saving lives. The family business.

For once, it wasn't about changing diapers or talking to stuffy principals. No, Wendigos didn't talk and Dean understands Bobby without words. So the men had chased the thing in the nearby St. Jeffreys mine for a few hours and finally sent it to purgatory. It was life like before the unexpected baby happiness. The hunt had been all about instinct, speed and accuracy. That was what Dean had been living for the last few hours.

And that was what he needed now, when he saw a strange man sitting at his kitchen table, holding out his hand for his Cassidy. The strange man was wearing a suit. He was sitting with his back to the doorway through which the hunter had just stepped. An advantage, if only for a split second.

And the pistol was already in Dean's hand, loaded with silver bullets, aimed at the stranger's back.

Dean pulled the trigger immediately.

There were no thoughts clouding his mind. No details that he noticed. Shoot first, ask questions later. That had always been the motto. At least that of John and Dean Winchester. The bullet that Dean hoped would save his daughter went off with a loud bang. Then his gaze was diverted by a person appearing from behind the counter. It was Y/N, who Dean's subconscious had classified as missing before. That's why he hadn't hesitated for a moment to shoot the stranger. Because nobody was allowed to get too close to his little Cassy. No one.

If you had time to look at Dean, you'd see a serious guy with soot and dust on his face, trousers and jacket. A bloody scratch adorned his left cheek, his knuckles were cracked and his palms were scraped open.

[Y/N's POV] Y/N hadn't given any thought at all to the fact that her cousin Lu had announced himself. Twenty minutes before his arrival. Of course, that was typical of him, as always. If he announces himself at all. But she was a good hostess after all, offering her visitor a coffee immediatly. And although he wasn't purely human, she knew he posed no danger whatsoever. Not to Ben, not to her, let alone to Cassy. She had even asked him to help her with some of her research into Cassy's powers and how to secure certain parts of them. But nonetheless, she knew Dean would be back later today. But she just figured the situation could be resolved with a simple round of introductions. But that wasn't the case. Dean came in in the manner of his father and started shooting at everything he didn't know and couldn't categorize. Great…

But Lu was quicker. He had already heard the footsteps crunching on the smooth tiled floor. Because Dean's shoes didn't look particularly clean from the hunt in the forest and so he also heard the safety catch on the gun and then automatically raised his hand towards Dean and the bullet made it out of the barrel of the gun but fell to the floor just before it hit his suit.

Y/N screamed briefly and slapped her hand over her mouth, but then saw how battered Dean looked… "Baby! What happened?" She had also dropped a cup that she had just taken out of the dishwasher and then immediately ran over to Dean, took the gun out of his hand and stuck it securely in the back of her waistband.

Lu had stood up in the meantime and straightened the front of his Armani suit and then looked over at Cassy again and stroked her lightly over her small hand. "Well, it looks like your daddy in a damn bad mood…" He looked to Dean with a grin now, being slightly provocative of course… But that was just the way he was. Otherwise, he was a kind-hearted person, if you could call him that…

[Dean's POV] Dean lips twitched in anger as the guy stopped the bullet just like nothing. That wasn't human. Something like that shouldn't be in this house. Briefly, he froze slightly as Y/N took the gun away from him and remained totally calm. She even seemed taken aback by Dean's reaction. Only slowly did he realize that she could also have an insurance agent visiting or someone from the youth welfare office. But that was out of the question, because the man was totally unimpressed by the fact that he had almost been shot.

What was wrong with the guy and his mocking grin? Dean looked at Y/N in amazement, because she must have guessed what had happened. He almost nagged at her: "A strange, supernatural guy is trying to touch my daughter. This maybe?" Long slimy fingers trying to hurt a cute baby. But not in Dean's kitchen!

Quickly, the hunter rushed to Cassidy and picked her up from the rocker to his dirty arms. The comforting smell of fresh baby skin and diapers came into his mind and grounded him a little. The little girl didn't quite know whether to be happy or cry and looked a little frightened.

Dean turned his child away from the stranger so that he couldn't touch her again. The protective father turned threateningly to the suit guy: "Get your paws off her or you'll have mine in your face!" He would love to deform that polished face a little, given the stranger's audacity. Dean protectively placed a hand on Cassy's head. Only Y/N's light-heartedness kept the hunter halfway to the ground. Eagle-eyed, he tried to spot something about his girlfriend. Some strange behavior. Was she under a spell? "So, what's this, huh?" he asked, still growling slightly.

[Y/N's POV] Lu stood there grinning, his hands buried in his pants pockets by now and leaning against the counter in the kitchen, really very relaxed and not at all intimidated. He then picked up his coffee cup, spread his little finger and simply watched the spectacle that was unfolding between the two of them. As panicked, angry and heroic as Dean was acting, it really amused the cousin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but then realized that she should have warned Dean that Lu was coming over. She ran a hand through her hair and then said, "Dean…please… If there's someone in this house, I let them in here, otherwise Evangeline and Bones would have struck. And I told you about my cousin Lu from Vegas back then, didn't I? May I introduce…my cousin Lu from Vegas…yes, Lu is not human. He's a warlock. And yes, I invited him here to think about this magical barrier for Cassy's powers and to talk to him. But that won't work if you just shoot him. He's my biological cousin and I hope we've settled the issue now!", she said with a sigh. "Lu? This is Dean… My fiancé and father of my daughter. He's not usually that pissed off. But with Cassy, he sees red… And he has an aversion to strange men in suits…"

[ghoul-bonez]

~Your Voice is Important~

(Tsireya x Fem! Deaf! Metkayina! Reader)

Summary: Ever since you were young you had been different, which made you a target for many, but your differences didn’t drive Tsireya off like it did most people, nor did it make her like you any less.

Word count: 4.1k

Author’s note: First fic back from vacation yayyy!!! I’m ngl I’m very nervous to post this for some reason? Someone I’m very close with is deaf and I got the idea for this fic from her :)… I feel like every Deaf! Reader fic has (Y/n) as completely deaf, but in reality many deaf or HOH people can hear to some amount, but not enough to understand people. Sign language is “bold and italics” and talking is just normal text.

~Masterlist~

Your Voice is Important

You loved talking, always had, and you were loud. When you were born you came into the world wailing, louder than anyone had ever heard before, then when you were old enough your parents recall you babbling all the time. You were never quiet, and never would be if you could control it.

You loved talking about anything and everything, from how your day had been, to what your favorite animal was, it was an ilu in case anyone was wondering. You loved when your friends and family would include you, or try to include you, in conversations.

The problem was nobody outside of your circle of friends and family wanted to talk with you, or more so they didn’t want to listen to you. You knew you sounded weird to others, but you sounded normal to yourself. You didn’t know any other way, having always been like this. So you stayed quiet, not talking, and instead listening, or listening as well as you could.

Even with your constant talking and sound making your parents had a gut feeling something was wrong, and it was. They thought it was odd that their soothing words and gentle songs wouldn’t lull you to sleep, but they attributed it to you being a rough child, always crying and throwing fits when you didn’t get what you wanted. However, that quickly changed as you wouldn’t respond when they called you.

When they determined something was wrong, very wrong, they took you to Ronal, the Tsahík, to make sure you were okay, and not on death’s door. Over the course of the next few weeks she kept you under her care to try different remedies to see what would help, but in the end nothing did, and she declared you deaf.

You weren’t completely deaf, but you couldn’t hear very well, or much at all. You had been able to hear more as a child, but still not enough for your parents to call you and you respond. They would have to yell at you, and make sure they had your attention before speaking. Unfortunately there was nothing you could do to stop your hearing from getting worse as you got older.

Although your hearing was nearly gone now, you could remember what it was like to talk, and although you couldn’t hear anything very well anymore, including yourself as you talked, you still held onto your voice. You would always hold onto your voice.

Even without being able to understand people you could still hear the background noise of daily life. You could hear the waves crash against the shore, and the sea birds when they called loud enough, but it was very quiet, muffled. You could hear yourself enough to talk, but because of your hearing it came out loud, but slurred, slow, and unsure.

You could even hear the sounds of people talking, but it was so quiet and muffled that you couldn’t understand them. You had gotten good at lip reading, and could fluently understand and speak sign language, as most of the Metkayina people could, so instead of speaking with your voice, you usually just used sign whenever you communicated with others, not wanting to scare them away.

You had a couple favorite sounds, an ilu’s clicks as you held it close enough to hear. They knew to be extra loud with you too, understanding your needs. You loved the patter of rain on your marui’s roof when a storm was raging outside, you couldn’t hear each individual drop, but it was a comforting background buzz. Your favorite sound, however, was your best friend’s voice.

Tsireya’s voice.

Even though you couldn’t understand what she was saying, you loved everything about it. You didn’t need to know what she was saying to hear that her voice was smooth, and calming, her tone soft and caring. It was so special.

She was so special.

You had known her since you were very young, meeting while her mother held you hostage to test you and try to cure your ailment. She had been there to help the entire way, mostly to comfort you, and it was nice to have someone your age to play with.

You conversed as well as possible, and she was always patient with you, and didn’t mind your loud outbursts. She actually quite enjoyed your company when many kids your age did not because of your tendency to not listen, although it wasn’t on purpose.

You knew as much as you thought Tsireya was special that she thought you were as well. She thought you were so special, and unique, in so many ways. She loved your voice. To some it was frustrating, not completely sure what you were saying, but she had been around you so much, listened to you so much, that she could understand you, like only a few could do.

One day as you had been sitting on the beach alone, sulking, Tsireya had approached you. She was upset that you were upset, so she took it upon herself to cheer you up. She snuck up on you and tackled you to the ground with a huff, laughing like an excited child as you struggled against her, pushing her off of you and turning to her with an angry blush on your cheeks.

You knew who it was immediately, not even having to see her to know who it was, this tackle was friendly, not meant to cause harm like others had done to you before, “Tsireya!” You shrieked, offended, mouth open and eyes wide.

“(Y/n)!” She shouted back, loud enough for you to hear, before devolving into a pile of giggles. You couldn’t hear them as well now as in the past, but the sound you remembered played through your head on loop as a wide smile was etched onto her face.

You scoffed, “What was that?” You pretended like her smile and visible joy wasn’t melting you from the inside out, like you were being held over a fire, or one had been set in your heart.

She turned serious now, “You were upset. I wanted to help you.” She frowned, you hated it, and wanted it off her face as soon as possible, but before you could say anything she asked, “Why were you upset?”

You turned away from her, you didn’t want her to see your frown, didn’t want to make her more upset, “I do not want to talk about it.”

You couldn’t look away from her for long, turning back to her and watching her sign, “You are signing, not talking. Is it about your voice?”

You sighed deeply, she knew how to read you, she could see into you, see how you were feeling at all times,“You always seem to know what’s wrong.”

She smiled, small and sad, “I know how you work.” She admitted.

You couldn’t help but to agree, “I know.” You paused for a second, taking a deep breath, “Trust me I know.”

She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly to reassure you, before signing again, “So tell me, what is wrong?”

You looked away again, eyes drifting to someone and her awful friends a ways away, “It is nothing, just Epxtä being a jerk.”

When you turned back to her you could see Tsireya hum, although you couldn’t hear it. She seemed to think for a second before responding, “I know how she can be. What did she say?”

Your frown deepened, thinking about what she had told you, how she had insulted you, “She told me I should just keep quiet. That nobody wants to hear my horrible voice.”

Tsireya’s frown turned into a sad smile, but was quickly overtaken by a happier one, “Well, I love your voice. I love the way you speak.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to get annoyed, you valued Tsireya’s opinion, but just one amongst the sea of many wasn’t enough, “Well I do not.”

She held your face in her hands gently, only letting go to sign, before placing them back where they were before, “Why not?”

“Nobody else likes it, why should I?” You used your voice this time, trying to prove your point by speaking.

“Oh, so I am nobody now?” She smirked, she knew she would get her point across soon enough with this argument.

You hummed, “No. Definitely not.”

She then sighed, smiling, “(Y/n), you are so special. Eywa has big plans for you. I can tell.”

You would consider Tsireya your best friend, but at the same time she was so much more. She had always meant too much to you. From the moment you had met her you had attached yourself to her, and she had clung onto you just the same.

She was your translator at times, helping you communicate smoother and more efficiently. Some of the children of the clan would come to you for sign language lessons, but because they weren't fluent without your sense of hearing you struggled to understand what they were trying to tell you, but Tsireya was always there to help.

She was your biggest supporter, cheering you on from the sidelines, even when you both knew you would fail. Even when you did fail she would always hype you up, congratulating you for even trying in the first place. She would shower you in affection whether you succeeded or not. She was proud of you whether you succeeded or not.

She was your rock, always telling you that you will get through whatever tough times you’re going through. When other kids would bully you she would stand up for you, even using her mother being the Tsahík as a threat to get the bullies to stay away from you.

She was your girlfriend, your future mate when you both passed your rites. Right now you were courting, giving small gifts, and showing affection as you pleased, but someday you will be more. Someday you will get to feel the bond between mates, to truly see into each other, to feel each other, and to be one.

She was your everything.

Tsireya wasn’t just a good girlfriend. She wouldn’t settle for good, she had to be great, and so she did her best to do so. She always made sure you had what you wanted, made sure you weren’t bothered by others, made sure you were happy. You were always happy with her.

You weren’t sure about being with her at first. You were scared that if you admitted your feelings she would hate you. Scared that she would leave you, but the opposite happened when you broke one night.

You had been sitting with Tsireya, you silently weaving and Tsireya quietly singing to create background noise for you as she weaved, and as your hands moved on their own, used to the motions of weaving, your brain was working at a million miles an hour.

Finally you spoke, quiet, almost unable to hear yourself, “I do not know what to do.”

Tsireya stopped singing, taking in what you had said, dropping the net she had been working on repairing, she moved her hands gracefully, “About?”

You sighed, choosing your words carefully as you put them together in your head before speaking them into the world, “I have these feelings that I am not sure what to do with. I like feeling them, but also they scare me.”

You saw Tsireya gasp, “You are in love, aren’t you!?” Her stomach dropped. What if it wasn't her, but she kept the mood up, smiling the whole time. Even if it wasn’t her she would be happy for you. She would make herself be happy for you.

Shock covered your face, how had she cracked your carefully coded words so easily, but you knew she always knew how you were feeling, “No! It is not that.” You tried to deny her.

“It totally is!” Tsireya’s face was still blessed with a smile before something overcame her and she paused, a frown and dramatic groan exiting her mouth, “I am going to owe Ao’nung chores now.”

You gasped playfully, “What? You betted on me?” You knew how competitive Ao’nung could be sometimes, and Tsireya was usually persuaded into joining his stupid little bets.

She groaned again, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, and he was right…” She paused again, “but you have to tell me who it is!”

You frowned, shaking your head in defiance, “No way.”

She smirked, “You have to!” She knew you couldn’t deny her, but you would do your best, just this once, to tell her no.

“I literally do not.” you rebutted, shoving at her arm as she inched closer to you.

Then she had an idea, “I will tell you my crush if you tell me yours.”

You just rolled your eyes, “Tsireya, I know you do not have a crush on anyone. You are just trying to bribe me.” What you didn’t know was that she really did, and it was imperative for you to know.

She looked away, thinking, and you could see the frustration on her face as she tried to think of something, anything, but in the end she just asked, “Well tell me anyway?”

“I…” You sighed deeply, at a loss of words, “I can not.”

“Well I will tell you mine first then.” She took a deep breath, a calming breath, “(Y/n). It is you, it has always been you. I love you. I see you. I am not sure who’s name you are about to say, but I hope it is mine. I do not know what I will do if it is not mine.”

You were taken aback completely. You had truly believed she didn’t have a crush, and never in a million years would you be able to guess that you were her crush, being convinced your crush was strictly one way. You were convinced you were doomed to live out the rest of your life watching Tsireya settle down with anyone other than you, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

You gasped and barreled into her, arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly. You spoke quietly next to her ear, trying your best to control your volume, “Tsireya, I see you. How could I not? You do not need to worry about who’s name I will say because it is yours. It will always be yours.”

She squeezed you back, nuzzling her face against yours before pulling away to sign, “(Y/n), will you be mine?”

You smiled wider than ever before, it reached your eyes as they held love and adoration for her, “Forever and always, I will be yours.”

As you thought about her you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of happiness coat your soul, but soon you were back to feeling down, feeling that way all day after one of the girls your age, Epxtä, had told you to shut up because as she had said, “You sound like a freak.”

You hadn’t even been talking to her, instead trying to converse with Ao’nung who was just as patient with you as Tsireya was, understanding her love for you after many late night talks about her feelings shared between the brother sister duo.

You had stopped him in his tracks, waving at him, and beckoning him over. Once he was close enough you asked, “I need to find Tsireya, do you know where she is?”

He thought for a second, his face scrunched up in concentration, but he came up with nothing, signing, “I do not. Try our marui, or the Tsahík tent.” He had signed back.

You smiled at him, appreciating his help, “Okay. Thank-”

Before you could finish your sentence Epxtä got up from her group of friends sitting nearby, stalking over to you and signing right in front of your face, “Oh my Eywa, will you shut up. You sound like a freak. I don’t understand how anyone could stand to listen to you.”

You felt your heart speed up, feeling an embarrassed blush cover your face. You just signed, “Sorry.” before backing off.

You saw Ao’nung’s jaw dropped, fury on his face as he said something back to the girl that you couldn’t understand. You knew he would defend you, because Tsireya would, and you were grateful his negative energy was focused on other people, and not you. He was a nasty person to most, to people he didn’t understand, or people he decided he didn’t like. Thankfully he liked you, but you still didn’t want to be there any more.

You picked a direction and sped off, trying to get as far away from the fight you knew was about to ensue as possible. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, but it ended up with you in a cove on the far end of the beach. You sat down, frustration and sadness flowing through you, and you couldn’t help it as tears leaked from your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

As you sat there, sniffling you held your eyes closed tight, focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing instead of the storm of feelings swirling inside. Anger and sadness crawled throughout your insides, squeezing your heart and clawing at your stomach.

Once you felt yourself calm a little a new noise rang out throughout the space, loud enough for you to hear what it was, but not understand it. It was a person, a voice, most likely calling for you, but you didn’t give them any of your attention, afraid it was Epxtä. Instead of responding you kept your head low, ears pinned back, as tears threatened to fall again.

You heard the voice again, this time much closer, and you feared for what was to come, but instead of what you imagined Epxtä’s insults would sound like and how her hits would feel when she landed them, you felt a hand reach out to your shoulder. Gently the person’s thumb rubbed circled on your shoulder, calming you.

You felt the sand under you shift as the person sat next to you, and when their head hit your shoulder you knew it could only be one person.

Tsireya.

It was always Tsireya.

Your eyes cracked open and the tears that had gathered on your lashes fell down your face, you couldn’t help yourself as you reached towards your face to wipe them away, but her hands beat you to it. She gently held your face, caressing your cheeks with her thumbs as she wiped away your tears. She looked concerned, but that was understandable with the way she found you.

You sniffled again, but a small smile cracked on your face, “Hello.” You greeted as quietly as possible.

She still looked concerned, but smiled back, her hands retracting from your face, signing, “Hello, beautiful.”

You just sighed, learning closer towards her and rubbing your cheeks together. You closed your eyes focusing on the feeling of your skin on hers. You didn’t want to focus on anything else, including your still broken feelings.

Tsireya didn’t allow you the peace of not focusing on that, instead pulling away and signing again, “What is wrong?” She asked.

Of course she wanted to talk about it, and you knew that even though you didn’t want to talk about it she would make you. She knew you always came out feeling better after discussing what was wrong, but it still didn’t make you want to talk about it.

“It is nothing.” You lied, or tried to, putting on a false smile. It wasn’t very convincing to Tsireya, or yourself, but you hoped it would hold off the conversation for a little longer.

She could see through your front, she always could, and she frowned before retorting, “I can tell it is not nothing. If you do not tell me what is wrong I can not help.”

Your fake smile fell, and you rolled your eyes, “I am telling you, it is nothing.”

“Okay…” She seemed to drop it, instead of addressing it again she said, “Well how was your day?”

“It was okay.” You only half lied, because it had been okay up until Epxtä had butted in on you and Ao’nung’s conversation.

Tsireya nodded as you could see her hum, lips pressed together, “Well, mine was not. I had a horrible day.”

You were surprised, “Oh.” You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t taken into account how she might be feeling right now.

“Ao’nung kept stealing my breakfast this morning, so I barely had anything to eat. Then my mom would not let me slip away for even a second, making me constantly attend to the fishers who had gotten scraped up on a hunt earlier this morning. I have not had a break.” She ranted on and on.

You felt bad, feeling the need to apologize for something you had no part in, “I’m sorry…”

She nodded at you simply before continuing, “I am telling you this because I want to show you that you can be open with me. You can tell me what is wrong, and I can help you.”

You sighed, you weren’t going to get out of this one, so you admitted, “It was Epxtä.”

Tsireya rolled her eyes, exasperated, “Oh my Eywa, it is always her.”

You giggled Tsireya’s sass, thinking about it Epxtä was the main pain in your ass, “That is true.”

Suddenly she got more serious, a small frown on her face as she asked, “Well, what happened?”

You rolled your eyes this time, frustration visible on your face and voice, “Just the usual. Nobody wants to hear me, I should just shut up.”

She scoffed, “You really need to stop listening to her, she is so stupid. Next time she says something mean get me and I will fix it.” She winked at you, a not so innocent smile on her face. You knew it would be less her fixing it, and more Ao’nung fixing it.

“I know you would, but sometimes I can not help but listen to her. If she feels this way clearly other people must too.” You started tearing up again, thoughts spinning in your head as you tried to voice what you were feeling, “I do not understand why I have to be this way. They say Eywa does not make mistakes, but I can not help but feel I should not be this way.”

She sighed, a gentle smile on her face, “My love, Eywa has made you this way for a reason. She has a plan for everyone. Someday you will understand that, truly, and when you are at peace with that, I will be too.”

You frowned, admitting, “I want to be at peace.”

“You want to be at peace for me,” She corrected you quickly, “not for you.”

You released a particularly harsh breath, frustrated, “That is true.”

Tsireya took a deep breath, sadness written on her face as her hands shook through what she was saying, “(Y/n), your voice is important. You may not like how you sound, and others may judge you because of it too, but your voice is important. You should use it more often…”

“I will do my best.” You promised, and you meant it. You couldn’t promise you would be able to speak up for yourself, you couldn’t promise you would always be able to use your voice, you couldn’t promise you would be able to love your voice, but you would try your best to. Not just for Tsireya, but for yourself as well.

She sighed, possibly content with your promise to try your best, possibly frustrated by your word choice, “I love you, and you will love yourself eventually, I promise.” She promised this time.

You held her face carefully in your hands, gently like if you held on too tight she would break, or you would break. The atmosphere was delicate, but so full of love, “I love you too. More than anything.”

You meant what you said, you loved her more than anything, or anyone else, and you were so grateful to have her in your life. You were grateful she chose you over anyone else.

She chose the one that can’t talk right, the one who doesn’t pay attention, the one who nobody else wanted, she chose the one who was so different from anyone else. She chose the deaf one. She chose the deaf one that nobody else wanted.

She chose you.

She chose you, and because of that you figured you should love your voice because if someone so perfect could love you maybe you could love yourself.

Word Bank:

Ilu (Metkayina animal transportation)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

[elissanatok]

part 4

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

wordcount: 902

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You couldn’t help it. It had been this way ever since you were a child. Maybe even before that, maybe it was fated by the old gods. You tried so hard to forget about the warm feeling that memories still brought up in you when you thought about the past.

You could hear him giggling, a sound that now was lost forever. He would never be seven again, never sound like that again or look at you the way he used to. He had been your best friend, nothing else, and you wished so hard for it to become that way again.

The light of the almost complete full moon shone through the high window in your bedroom. It had always been your room, nobody dared to change a thing, even though the beautiful chamber had been empty for too long. It didn’t smell familiar anymore, you had realized and so had Aemond, for the hundredth time, while standing in the doorway. You did have a bad habit of not closing the door when you wished for some privacy, always feeling safe and respected in both your homes, but now it seemed like the dumbest thing you had ever done.

In his life he had visited your room more often than you did yourself, he would never say it or tell you, but it was more his than yours at this point. But than again that’s what you felt a lot throughout your life. Being more his than your own.

He stood there for a few minutes, not saying a word, not breathing too loud.

You looked pretty when you cried. Your eyes tinged red and your cheeks stained wet. The color of your lips more prominent because of the swelling. He felt captivated by the sight, but he knew that it was his fault you had shed painful tears. He cleared his throat, clenching his hands behind his back. A small gasp escaped you while your hand flew to your chest, touching the skin above your heart.

“Princess.”, he greeted- you didn´t answer. Your eyes fixed on him like a prey prepared to get his throat torn out, until they changed to the eyes of a dragon, ready for her own meal.

“Did you come here to violate me again?”’ His eyes widened. He certainly didn´t expect you to confront him so straight forward and he never wanted you to believe he had wanted to hurt you. “I…”, “or did you come to make fun of my hair?”

He shook his head. “No. It wasn´t my intention to…”, “Are you certain about that?” He shook his head again, white hair falling out of place. “If it wasn´t you intention than why did you say it? Why couldn´t you hold back when it wasn´t your intention?”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were most likely to fall. “I never meant to hurt you, please believe me. I -I lost control of my temper- I didn´t mean to.” He wasn´t apologizing, you both knew that. He had grown up to a man with great self control, he didn´t even know why he had not excluded you from the speech he presented. He wished he would have been controlled enough to ignore the little smirks Lucerys threw at him and instead could have talked to you in a normal way, maybe charmed you a little.

But he had not been able to control his brewing rage, that’s why he now stood in front of a woman he himself felt he had never met before. She had never looked at him like this. Full of hate and pain. It made her look different, but changed nothing about the feelings he kept for her. She was his, and he knew no matter what happened in the future, no matter how she looked at him, his love would always be reserved for her.

You heard his footsteps retrieve from your room, so you hastily ran to the door and slammed it shut – louder than you had intended to.

He had never made you feel like this. He had almost begged you to allow him to touch your hair a few years ago, because he liked it being so different than his. Curly, dark and unruly, not as silky and light as you would have liked for it to be.

It made you doubt. Doubt yourself, although you knew that it was useless. You could not change your appearance you had told yourself, you couldn´t change his view of you, just like you couldn´t change the image of him in your head – no matter how hard you tried or how hard he seemed to try to break it.

When the sun rose again the next morning, and the maids came to prepare you for the day, raking their gentle hands through your hair, you could not stop your wandering thoughts again. The circles under your eyes showed your clear lack of sleep, and everybody would be able to see them.  But you weren´t sure anymore if you were good enough to stay in the red keep, if you were strong enough to handle the ongoing feud between your family members.

This had been your home, until it hadn´t. This people were your home, until they weren´t anymore and maybe you were the only one who believed that things here hadn´t changed, just because you didn´t.