#but it's beautiful that people could find love elsewhere

[pickapea]

there's something beautifully romantic about heterosexuals. despite their differences, despite being raised differently in different cultures and with different expectations put on them, despite coming from different worlds and being kept apart their whole upbringings, they still manage to bridge that gap to find love. it's unfortunate that they don't like each other and don't view each other as human, but i digress

[makoodles]

ミtìohakx

[tI.o."hak’] P F n. hunger

🍓 pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, tsu'tey pov, misunderstandings, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader has nipple piercings, size kink, human x na'vi sex

🍓 wordcount: 18k

masterlist

it's been far too long since i wrote for my grumpy boy, so here were go! tsu'tey is really horny in this one guys lmao i'm sorry

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

There is something wrong with Tsu’tey.

Like, seriously wrong.

This isn’t necessarily a new sentiment to him; he’s been wondering if there’s something fundamentally broken in him for some time now, as if Sylwanin’s death had damaged him more than he could even tell. In the long and painful years following her death, he never so much as glanced at another woman with passing interest. In fact, he had convinced himself that he was no longer capable of experiencing anything even close to romantic or sexual feelings with anyone other than his first love.

Even when he was betrothed to Neytiri, his feelings never developed past fond friendship. Their mating would have been a duty, albeit one he was content enough to perform if it meant that he could serve the clan and maybe, finally, put some of that awful, bone-deep loneliness behind him. But while he loved Neytiri dearly, he could never drum up any real physical attraction beyond the aesthetic appreciation of knowing that she was a beautiful woman.

And that was fine. Tsu’tey never really had a problem with that. He had mostly resigned himself to never experiencing that kind of love again, even if the thought left him hollow on the inside. He’s always been proud to be the kind of man that throws all he has into all into his community and friendships and duties, but he can’t help but wish things were different. It feels a little as though he’s standing stagnant while everyone around him moves on.

The Omaticaya rebuild when the Sky People leave; families are built, bonds are made, and the People move forward. Everyone but Tsu’tey, it feels.

Tsu’tey, instead, finds himself tragically, humiliatingly preoccupied with matters that would surely never have even occurred to him before the war with the Sky People. Well, only one matter, really.

Instead of doing what is expected of him by finding a mate and settling down, like most other men his age in the clan, Tsu’tey finds himself distracted in a way that is completely unbecoming. He goes through his usual motions of hunting, weaving, carving, training, and yet he feels distant from it all, as though his thoughts and attention are elsewhere.

When he’s not carrying out his duties, he’s mortifyingly distracted by just one of the little sky demons that lingers around the village. You.

It would have been unthinkable for him only a few years ago. Even now, Tsu’tey can’t help but wonder if some essential part of him is broken. It’s the only way he can think to explain why you have captured his attention so completely.

There’s nothing special about you. Tsu’tey’s not completely delusional; he can recognise that you’re just a regular Sky Person, nothing impressive. You can’t hunt, you are bad at weaving, and you look odd. You are so tiny and weak, nothing like the willowy and strong women of his clan.

And yet, all of your odd differences are what end up endearing you to him. Tsu’tey has always felt compelled to protect, to serve his clan and defend his people. You’re small and soft, with your strange little face and pretty eyes, and you have no way of defending yourself. Perhaps that was how his fascination with you had started, but it’s since grown into a tentative… friendship, almost.

You visit the village almost every day, to help out where you can or to accompany Norm or even sometimes (and Tsu’tey sometimes has to centre himself to make sure he’s not reading too much into your alien behaviour) just to spend time with him.

“Hey, big guy,” You call out, like you always do, sashaying your way across the village towards him.

Tsu’tey doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting outside his hut, carving a small wooden bowl. It takes quite a bit of effort to look unaffected and casual, especially when his tail had begun to curve around his legs from the moment he had picked up on your sweet scent on the breeze.

“Demon.” He greets back. He chances a quick glance up at you from beneath his eyelashes, hoping you don’t notice.

Then he does a double take, his head snapping up to look at you again as he completely forgets to feign disinterest.

Tsu’tey is used to having you around the village, and he’s used to stifling his embarrassing attraction towards you as best he can. What he’s not used to is the sight of you wearing such tiny little shorts, or such a tight top. The alien fabric is stretched tight across your breasts and so thin that he can see the subtle shape of your nipples beneath the taut fabric.

His stomach does an odd sort of flip, leaving him dizzy.

It's not that he’s shocked by your body – you are still entirely covered (and he tries to quash the disappointment that niggles in the back of his head), and he has seen many female bodies before.

But this is you, and he has never seen so much of you before. The sky demons are confusingly modest and oddly ashamed about their bodies, which means that Tsu’tey has simply had to tackle his odd embarrassing attraction to you with nothing more than his imagination. To see you now like this feels like a physical blow.

Tsu’tey inhales so sharply that he nearly chokes on his own breath. “Tawtute, what—?”

“You said we could go swimming in the river today.” You say, raising the weird little hairy ridges on your brows.

Ah, he thinks, a little dazed. He had said that. It had been a moment of madness, on his part. He had been trying to come up with an excuse to invite you to spend more time with him, and the added incentive of getting to show off some of his skills to you had made him over-eager and excited.

“Mn.” He grunts, his eyes glancing down over the length of your legs, your soft squishy skin all exposed by your tiny shorts. They’re hitched high on your hips, which draws his eyes to your waist and then up again to your breasts, where your top clings to the soft round shape of them.

His eyes follow your hips as you cock them to the side, your hands landing on the curve of your waist. Damn. He… he should really be familiar with the shape of you, by now. You’ve been a near constant presence in the village since the moment you had made the decision to stay behind on Pandora to live in the shoddy human outpost in the nearby forest.

He knows what you look like. But he’s never really seen you in clothes this tight and small before. It’s stupid. Really stupid. He can’t really explain why the sight of your squishy little thighs in those shorts has turned his thoughts into a pathetic buzzing mush of white noise.

You tilt your head, obviously waiting for him to say something. Your eyes are all shiny, looking at him with an expectant smile.

“Yes.” Tsu’tey swallows thickly, forcing himself to his feet. “You wish to swim.”

The thought is a little thrilling. Perhaps he will even be able to catch a few fish in front of you as well. Showing off physical prowess is just one way of impressing a potential mate, and while it’s not initially what he had intended with the offer, the idea of putting on a mating display for you makes excited heat simmer low in his belly.

“Well, you offered.” You remind him, biting at your lower lip under your mask. Your mouth looks all glossy and wet, more so than usual; he wants to touch your lips more than anything.

“Yes. I offered.” He nods, looking down at you as you stand in front of him.

Ah, the height difference is going to his head a little – your face is just level with his belly button, your head tilted all the way back so that you can gaze up at him. His cock twitches at the sight.

“Come.” Tsu’tey says, trying to shake off his distraction before he embarrasses himself.

Just like always, you happily follow after him as he leads the way away out of the village towards the forest. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times, just to make sure that you’re still there.

“I was thinking that after swimming, we could go for a walk,” You say, your little legs working overtime in an attempt to keep up with him. “I’ve been craving that fruit you let me try last time. You know, the one that looks like a blue balloon, but is pink on the inside and really sweet?”

He slows down so that you can keep pace with him more easily, his eyes drawn down to you as you walk. You don’t seem to be wearing your strange little chest covering that usually covers your breasts under your other top, which means that your soft breasts are bouncing lightly with every step you take. Tsu’tey nearly trips over his own feet when he notices, because now it’s like he can’t keep his eyes off you.

The Sky People are demons, a plague on his planet and his people. But you are so bright and sweet, always excited to see him and spend time with him. And your soft body is so different to the Na’vi women he’s used to – you have so much give to you, squishy and bouncy where Na’vi women are firm and lean, especially in places like your thighs and breasts and little tummy. Tsu’tey has never struggled with his self-discipline as much as he does around you.

“Kllpxiwll.” He says, his voice coming out a little less strong than he’d like. “Yes. We can walk later.”

You beam at him, making his tail lash around his ankles. Your cheeks squish up when you smile like that, and his fingers itch with the desire to squeeze at your face.

“Great!” You say brightly, before reaching out to take his hand in yours.

This time, Tsu’tey really does trip. He manages to regain his balance quickly enough that there’s a chance you didn’t notice, but then he looks down at you with wide eyes. Your hand is so small, your little slender fingers curling around his much larger palm, and Tsu’tey swears his heart skips over a beat at the feeling.

Ah, you need his hand for the balance – you hold tight to him as he helps you step over logs and through the long glowing grass between the huge trees. You use your grip on him both as leverage to climb over some of the obstacles before you and to make sure that Tsu’tey keeps his pace slow that you can keep up.

You even glance up at him, your expression uncertain and a little vulnerable, as though you’re unsure how he’s going to react to your touch. He can understand why; he’s never been shy about letting his distaste for your kind known.

 But you’re different. He wonders if you know it – you must know, right? It must be obvious to you, how he looks at you with starry, moronic eyes.

He looks away, struggling to keep his expression cool and neutral. He lets you hold his hand but doesn’t squeeze back, nervous about how tiny your hand is in his and how he might hurt you without even meaning to.

After a moment or two you withdraw your hand, biting at your lip as a small frown tugs at your brow.

When the two of you reach the river, Tsu’tey turns to you and waits. He feels as though he’s holding his breath, watching and waiting as his stomach turns flips. He feels antsy and itchy, his fingers twitching as he forces his face to remain as still as possible.

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head as your mouth twitches in amusement. “Is there a reason you’re glaring at me like that, babe?”

Tsu’tey frowns reflexively; you’re always calling him strange little nicknames that he doesn’t understand, and he’s yet to decide whether he likes them or not. He decides to focus on the other part of your sentence.

“I am not glaring.” He protests, though he doesn’t relax his face. This expression mostly comes naturally to him, and he doesn’t really want you to see him open and mushy anyway. “I am—I am looking.”

“Okay,” You drawl, drawing the word out. “Looking at me?”

“No. Get in the water.” He says, and it accidentally comes out sounding like an order.

He’s lucky you’re used to his brash manner and blunt attitude, because you just roll your eyes at him instead of taking offence. That’s part of the reason he finds you so lovely, always so sweet and bright even when he makes a mess of communicating with you. His tail coils, so relieved that he hasn’t messed this up yet with you.

When your small hands reach for the button on your tiny shorts, Tsu’tey can’t help but stare. You push the strange rough blue material down over your thighs, and he takes a steadying breath through his nose as you push them down to your ankles.

It’s the first time he’s seen you so exposed, so vulnerable – so… human. Your body is perfect. Beautiful. Soft and curvier than a Na’vi woman, so much smaller than him. He feels a little guilty about the way he’s looking at you so lecherously, but he can’t seem to stop.

He feels his mouth go dry, but he can't bring himself to look away. He's never seen you like this, and he'd never forgive himself if he missed this opportunity just to look.

You step out of your shorts, left in just that thin white top and tiny bottoms that he has heard you call ‘panties’ before. They are small, more revealing than the loincloths worn by his people, so thin and dainty. They cling to you, and Tsu’tey swears he feels his thoughts dissolve into pure nothingness at the realisation that he can practically see the outline of your—

“You’re coming too, right?”

Tsu’tey blinks, a little dazed. When he speaks, his voices comes out a little too sharp yet again. “What?”

You’re looking at him, your eyebrows raised and scrunched a little as you stare at him. You’re confused, he realises, and it takes a moment to realise that it must look as though he’s been glaring at you yet again.

It’s just... That... is a lot of skin. It feels illicit in a way that he’s not used to, because he doesn’t normally see this much of you. It feels like human modesty is now rotting his brain if this is how he’s reacting to just the sight of your bare legs.

“You good?” You ask, and you sound a little uncertain now. “You look… you look kinda angry.”

Tsu’tey manages a grunt, but he doesn’t trust himself to actually speak. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, and he’s sure his words will just come out clumsy and thick. He glances away from you before picking at the ties of his battle band around his waist, drawing it away from him and settling it aside in the phosphorescent moss. He feels naked without it, though he doesn’t remove his tewng.

“I am not angry.” He says at last, pleased with how steady he sounds.

You just hum, and step away from him towards the water. He watches you go, his gaze trailing over all your soft flesh. This cannot be normal. Human women are not supposed to be this attractive, and Na'vi men are certainly not meant to be attracted to them.

And yet... he can't resist sneaking glances at you whenever the opportunity presents itself. Your bare skin, your soft body, your bouncing breasts, your lips... you’re driving him mad. His twitching cock beneath his loincloth means that there is no chance of pretending he doesn’t know how attracted he is to you.

You step into the water, letting out a breathy noise of surprise at the temperature. “Oh, it’s cold!”

He watches you walk ahead of him into the river, his eyes are drawn to your hips, then your waist, then... he feels his face grow hot. Get a grip, Tsutey. You're being ridiculous.

But... oh Eywa...

Tsu’tey just breathes. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to collect himself. He’s being an idiot. He’s better than this; he is a warrior, a hunter, he has been trained for leadership and has fought alongside Toruk Makto. There is no good reason for a human woman to bring him to his damn knees like this.

You wade in a little deeper, until the running river water gurgles around your thighs. Then a little further, until the current is rippling around the bare skin of your waist. Then you keep going, until you’re submerged up to your neck, and you’re making a scrunched up little face as you hiss through your teeth.

“Shit! How can the water be this cold when it’s so hot out!” You complain again, your nose all wrinkled.

Oh.. you’re just adorable. Tsu’tey feels his fingers twitching again, wanting so badly to touch and squeeze and pinch.

You glance back over at him, and give him an odd little look. “Hey, are you coming? I didn’t come here just to swim by myself!”

Tsu’tey stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the edge of the water. Fuck, he’s just a mess of warring emotions right now. All he seems to be able to do is stare at you with hot, hungry eyes.

He glances away again, unable to keep looking at you any longer. He takes a deep breath and dives into the water, keeping his body straight as an arrow as he spears through the water and surfaces only a few feet from you.

The water is cold, but he finds it refreshing. It shocks some awareness back into him, makes him feel a little more normal and less stunned.

You squeal with laughter as his dive splashes you, throwing your head back as you bob in the water nearby. You paddle a little closer to him, swimming a little deeper until you’re treading water next to him.

“It is cold.” He breathes. It’s the only thing he can think of to say that’s even mildly intelligent, yet it sounds like it falls entirely flat.

But you just giggle as though he’s told a wonderful, highly intelligent joke. His ears twitch, relishing the sound of your laughter.

Tsu'tey swallows thickly, his eyes drawn down to your chest. Your thin white top has turned translucent, and clings to the soft shape of your breasts. Through the thin wet fabric, he can see the prominent shape of your nipples.

“I’ve been looking forward to this swim all day,” You’re saying, blissfully unaware Tsu’tey going through his crisis right at your side. “It’s been hot – honestly, the cold water is a bit of a relief, right?”

“Mngh.” Tsu’tey makes an odd grunting noise, before inhaling sharply and tearing his gaze away from you.

He dips down, allowing the river water to engulf him as it rushes over his head. He half-heartedly hopes he drowns, too, but that thought only lasts a moment before he resurfaces and takes a deep, grounding breath.

He can do this. It’s fine. He enjoys spending time with you, especially when he gets to steal you away from the village and the outpost and gets to enjoy your company away from all the curious eyes of the clan. He likes the feeling of having you all to himself.

He swims with you for a while, enjoying the feeling of the water current running over his skin and stealing looks at you as often as he can without you noticing.

You’re so small and soft, and you look pretty in the glow of the sunlight filtering through the trees that shelter the river. He swallows thickly. It feels like he’s witnessing something he never imagined he’d be allowed to see. Your hips. Your waist. Your soft thighs. Your… everything. Fuck, he wants you.

Eventually, you tire, and paddle your way back to the riverbank. Tsu’tey follows as if he’s been magnetised, orbiting nearby you as you clamber your way back onto the sand. Then you lay out on the bank in the sun to dry off, and Tsu’tey feels his pulse throbs hot and heavy in his throat.

He climbs out after you, his tail swinging low as his eyes trail over your figure. Your wet clothes cling to you, the soft fabric of your panties sticking to your hips and your translucent white top revealing almost everything to him.

He settles next to you, unable to look away from the way your nipples are firm and stiff where they're pressing against the thin top. Then his brow furrows, and he cocks his head.

“Tawtute…” He murmurs before he can think better of it, laying on his side as he looks down at you. “I.. may I ask you a… question?”

“Mhm. Of course.” You say without opening your eyes, enjoying the gentle heat of the sun warming your skin.

Tsu’tey swallows, wonders very briefly if he should keep his thoughts to himself, but his curiosity burns at him. He knows very little about Sky People, and he’s never truly felt any real impulse to learn more. But you’re laying next to him right now, and he finds himself very intrigued indeed about your body and possible… physical differences between you.

“It—Sky People bodies are different to ours,” He says. He attempts to keep his voice steady and as confident as possible, and possibly overcompensates by simply scowling. “It looks—it looks as though you have more nipples than we do. Why is that?”

Your eyes fly open, wide and startled beneath the clear material of your mask, and you stare up at him for a long moment of bewilderment. “I—excuse me?”

Tsu'tey flounders for a moment, thrown off by your tone, heat rushing to his face. "It looks as though—”

You glance down at yourself as he gestures clumsily at your chest, barely covered in your translucent white human fabric. Your expression clears as realisation hits, and then you bite your lip as though you’re trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” You breathe, placing your hand over your breasts. “No, sweetheart. They’re just—they’re just pierced.”

Tsu’tey stares at you uncomprehendingly. “Pierced?”

You nod, and Tsu’tey blinks. The revelation takes him by surprise, though he’s still not entirely certain what you mean by it. Human women pierce their nipples? To him, your breasts are already the most beautiful thing in the world. Why would you want to poke holes through them? What is the thought process behind that?

"Why?" he finally asks, his tone bewildered. "What is the purpose?"

“It’s not.. it’s not that there’s a purpose..” You trail off.

In the ensuing silence you stare at him, as though begging him to understand what you mean, before apparently realising that he isn’t going to. You bite your lip, then glance around as though checking that you’re still alone with him.

“I guess… well, nudity’s not a big deal for Na’vi, right?” You murmur, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your top. “Is it alright if I take this off?”

Nudity certainly isn’t a big deal to his people, not in the way it is for any of the tawtute. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies, and so the strange modesty of the Sky People is completely foreign to him. He has seen female breasts every day of his life, the chest coverings worn by the women of his people designed to decorate rather than conceal, and yet he has never in his life been filled with such an all-consuming desire to see a pair of tits before.

“Yes.” He says immediately, keeping his face as cool and unreadable as possible in an attempt at hiding his sheer desperation. “It is no ‘big deal’.”

You hesitate another moment, looking shy and a little embarrassed as you fidget with the hem of your top.

His focus is fully on you now, all his senses trained firmly on the sight of you. The desire to see what lies beneath that flimsy garment is becoming overwhelming.

Let me see, He thinks to himself. Just let me see, and maybe I'll finally be satisfied.

Finally, finally, you tug your top up and off. Tsu’tey inhales so deeply and sharply he nearly chokes on it. His eyes are drawn to your bare chest, transfixed. Your breasts are soft and squishy, perfectly shaped. And for the first time, he sees the small silver bars nestled into your nipples, which are firmed up after the cold of the water. They glitter in the sunlight, capturing his attention and holding it in a vice.

Oh, no, He thinks desperately, feeling a pang of desire deep in his loins. Far from satisfy him, the sight has only made him hunger for more. He wants to touch, especially the odd metal that glitters at your breasts.

“See?” You ask, as if he could have ever missed the sight before him. “My piercings.”

“Mmm.” Tsu’tey manages to get out. His voice is deeper than he had intended, and a little stiff. “I see them.”

You smile, as though you’re waiting for a reaction, but Tsu’tey is a little struck dumb. He watches the light of the sun shining on your wet skin, the way your breasts gently swell and fall with each exhalation of your breath, the subtle gleam of the silver of your piercings. The longer he goes without reacting, the more your expectant smile begins to fade.

“What are they for?” He manages to swallow thickly as he asks.

The question makes you laugh, which isn’t a reaction he had intended but is certainly a sound that he always cherishes.

“They’re not really for anything,” You murmur, reaching up to touch your own breast. “They’re just meant to look good, I guess.”

 Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly, and he wants so badly to replace your hand with his much larger one; he knows you would look so small beneath his palms. He glances swiftly at your face, and wonders if you would be upset if he touches the little silver bars that decorate your tits.

“This is… this is what is considered attractive to Sky People?” He asks. It comes out in a croak; too much of his energy is being diverted to trying to keep his hands still and to himself.

Your smile begins to fade again, your brow creasing. “Um… sometimes, I guess. You don’t.. uh, you don’t think so?”

That is a loaded question. How is he supposed to answer that when you’re laying on the riverbank beside him with only a thin, wet scrap of fabric covering your most intimate parts? He already feels as though most of the blood in his body had redirected downwards; his cock is pulsing, enough so that he can’t actually think anymore.

All he can do is grunt like a damn talioang. Your face falls further.

“I guess they must seem kinda strange.” You murmur. You must be growing self-conscious, because you start to cover your chest with your arms.

The sight of you trying to cover that perfect view from him sends a bolt of panic through him, and he just stops short of tearing your hands away again.

“You do not have to cover,” He says quickly, before he can think about it. “Like you said, it—nudity means little to us. I do not care.”

“Right.” You say, your voice gone a little bland. “It means nothing to you.”

Tsu’tey knows that your attitude has changed, fallen a little flat. But you’re laying right there, soft and small and squishy, displaying more of your bare flesh than he has ever seen from you, and he can’t pull his thoughts together.

He feels no better than the moronic young warriors that push each other around and whisper nonstop about the women of the clan. He is a skilled warrior, an excellent hunter, and a good provider for the whole clan – he is also experienced with women, so he can’t understand why the sight of you is turning him into a hormonal teenager again.

“Nothing.” He agrees stupidly, still struggling not to be too obvious with his staring.

You purse your lips, but drop your arms all the same. Tsu’tey tries not to goggle.

Oh no, He thinks miserably to himself as he watches the little barbells in your nipples sparkle in the sun. I really am broken.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

Tsu’tey is quite certain that he’s made a fool of himself in front of you.

He’s never been good at expressing himself or his emotions, and his attraction to you scares him as much as it excites him. He alternates between reticence and putting his foot in his mouth, between being unable to meet your gaze and being unable to look away.

He probably looks deranged. He feels deranged.

To make it worse, he knows that his interest in you is obvious to anyone in the clan that watches him interact with you for even a short time. He feels the eyes on him all the time, watching, often looking vaguely sympathetic, which is somehow worse than the horror he had been expecting.

Mercifully no one has said anything to him just yet. At least, no one of any great importance.

“So, you’re telling me that she was laid out next to you, practically naked, just to show off her pierced tits, and you did nothing?” Jakesully demands, his voice like the constant droning buzz of an irritating insect in Tsu’tey’s ear.

Tsu’tey chews sullenly at some roasted teylu, trying and failing to tune his Olo’eyktan out so that he can enjoy his meal.

“Come on, man, seriously.” Jakesully is nudging him now, like an infernal pest. “She took off all her clothes for you, and you didn’t try to—”

“Ma Jake, there are children here.” Neytiri says primly from Jakesully’s other side. She has also been trying her best to ignore her mate, rocking the baby in her lap, but now she sends him a warning glance. The sting of her glare is dulled due to the fact that she’s visibly trying not to laugh.

“Sleeping babies, they got no idea what I’m talking about.” Jake says dismissively, though he adjusts baby Kiri in his arms and leans into his wife’s side all the same.

Tsu’tey shifts where he’s sitting next to him, and allows his gaze to wander across the gathering. He is still waiting to catch sight of you, to see you approaching from across the campfire.

“I’m just saying, man, you’re so obviously into each other that it’s actually painful to watch—”

Tsu’tey grunts irritably. “I am not discussing this.”

“You like her, and she’s all over you!” Jakesully insists. In his arms, Kiri starts to gurgle, and Jake hurriedly raises her up to his shoulder to rub at her little back.

“She is my friend.” Tsu’tey says stubbornly, focusing on his dinner.

Jakesully scoffs. “I’m your friend, but you don’t see me sitting in your lap or holding your hand or getting naked—”

“We are not friends.” Tsu’tey scoffs.

“Ouch,” Jake drawls, rolling his eyes. “Damn, man. I thought we were close.”

 Tsu’tey grumbles, scowling into the distance. The irritating thing is, he thinks that he and Jake are close. Admittedly, they still have their rocky moments; Jakesully has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, but he is also an infuriating man and Tsu’tey has always been easy to rile. But… despite their frequent bickering, Tsu’tey has come to trust his judgements.

Tsu’tey purses his lips and picks at the remaining teylu in his small carved bowl. “You… think that she may return my feelings?”

Jake groans, holding the baby with one hand as he covers his face with the other. “You’re killing me here.”

On Jake’s other side, baby Neteyam starts to fuss in Neytiri’s arms. She sighs, pressing a kiss to her son’s chubby cheek before beginning to rock him gently. She’s been listening with as much patience as she’s capable of, though the whole conversation has been punctuated with her eyerolls and scornful hisses.

“Why do you not talk with her, Tsu’tey?” Neytiri asks in a tone that suggests she thinks both men are idiots. “Explain how you feel to her.”

Tsu’tey just gives her a look of disbelief. It’s like she doesn’t know him at all. When has he ever talked about his feelings before? He prefers to just feel things intensely and then shove it all down very deep until it inevitably bursts right out of him.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this; not since he was a teenager fumbling his way through his feelings with Sylwanin. It’s especially embarrassing to know that it’s a sky demon that’s eliciting this reaction from him, and that his closest friends are witnesses to his humiliation.

“I am going to sit with the other tsamsiyu,” Tsu’tey sniffs, pushing himself up from the log. “Perhaps they will have some more intelligent conversation.”

Neytiri scoffs, sounding more scornful than offended. “I doubt it.”

“Besides,” Jake adds, grinning at him over Kiri’s little downy-haired head. “Here comes your little bestie.”

Tsu’tey nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns his head, and surely enough there you are. You’re stepping across the gathering, smiling politely at one of the old women who says something to you as you pass by her.

He hastily sinks back down beside Jake, ignoring his pointed snickers.

The closer you get, the more details Tsu’tey can see. You’re all neat and clean, still wearing those tiny shorts. But you’re wearing a different top now, this one green like the verdant leaves of the trees that tower overhead, and now he can see that you’re wearing your odd little breast covering under your top. It pushes your soft breasts up and together in a way that’s very enticing, although he is admittedly a little disappointed by the way your strange little decorated nipples are hidden beneath the padding.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, your voice as cheerful and bright as always.

Tsu’tey’s ears twitch towards you eagerly, his nerves lighting up at the sound of your voice.

“Tawtute—” He begins to greet, but immediately chokes as you reach them and promptly climb right into his lap.

Oh fuck. His every muscle tightens, and all of his thoughts are frozen at the feel of your soft body moulding to his – you’re so small and so squishy, your soft body yielding so easily to the hard muscle of his chest.

He goes to grab at your hips as you nestle yourself into the cradle of his thighs, before panicking and grabbing at his own legs instead. He grips at his thighs harshly, his nails digging into his own skin hard enough to almost draw blood.

“Hello.” He manages to get out, sounding thick and a little stupid.

“Hi.” You reply, smiling up at him as though you think his inability to speak is adorable.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake mutters from off to the side.

Tsu’tey bares his teeth at him from over your head, but Jake is too busy sharing suggestive looks with Neytiri to even notice.

You shift, and he nearly swallows his tongue when your soft bottom settles neatly over his crotch. He panics as he feels blood rush south, and he hurriedly grabs at your hips to shift you from his crotch to his thigh, hoping that you hadn't felt his body respond in arousal.

“I—I have something for you,” He blurts, grabbing for the small carved wooden bowl he had set carefully by his side; he’s just been waiting for you to arrive. “I collected kllpxiwll berries for you earlier.”

Your eyes widen beneath your breathing mask, a pretty smile brightening up your face. “Oh, these are my favourite.”

“Yes, I know.” Tsu’tey says. His hands are still resting on your hips, enjoying how delicate you feel perched in his lap, but he feels a thin thread of panic underlying his delight. You’re so fragile, and he’s so terrified that his big rough hands will hurt you accidentally.

As you settle your bottom back onto his leg again with the bowl in your hands, he does what he does best and shoves his feelings deep, deep down. He will not allow himself to be driven mad by his desire for a human, however soft and warm and pretty you may be.

“Wow,” Jake drawls from his side. “That was really kind of you, Tsu’tey.”

"It is nothing." he replies, his voice coming out rough. "You are my friend."

It makes him want to bite his own tongue off to have you like this against him, but he forces a relaxed grin anyway. He can feel that it comes out strained, because inside he feels like he’s losing his mind. Your closeness is intoxicating, and he cannot stop himself from brushing his free hand against your thigh.

But you’ve tensed in his lap, the little bowl held tight in your lap. Under your mask, you’ve started to frown.

“Your friend.” You repeat blandly.

Jake winces at his side, and Tsu’tey suspects that he’s already put his foot in his mouth. But your soft, plump ass is seated so damn close to his cock beneath his tewng that he just can’t think straight.

“Yes.” He says dumbly. “We are friends.”

You purse your lips and look back down at the bowl of kllpxiwll berries, picking at them distractedly. “Right.”

Tsu’tey’s tail curls, uncomfortable with your sudden silence. Are you angry with him? His eyes drop down to the fruit he had gathered for you, his stomach sinking. Is it not to your liking?

“Do you not like the kllpxiwll?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and get a glimpse of your face.

He can vaguely hear Neytiri make a sound of pure derision off to the side, but he’s trying his hardest to block both Jake and Neytiri out.

“It’s nice.” You say, though you don’t sound very enthused.

Tsu’tey frowns, but then you move to get comfortable and your ass nestles itself right over the ridge of his hardened cock and he swears that his vision tunnels and turns entirely dark for a second. He panics, then grabs at your hips out of pure reflex and bodily lifts you off of him.

You yelp, obviously startled, your arms windmilling as Tsu’tey thrusts you at Jake before leaping to his feet. He can see the way Jake is staring at him as though he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or not, and the way that Neytiri looks faintly disbelieving, and the way that you look all ruffled and startled as you look up at him as though waiting for an explanation for why you’ve just been so unceremoniously booted off his lap.

“Sorry, I—” Tsu’tey begins, his throat tight and much too dry as he tries desperately to come up with an excuse that has nothing to do with his dick. “You were too heavy.”

Jake’s face screws up in yet another wince before he buries his face in baby Kiri’s shoulder as though he can’t bear to watch Tsu’tey humiliate himself.

You’re still staring up at him from where he had inadvertently dumped you on the ground, your face the picture of confusion and hurt. “I’m too—what?”

Tsu’tey dithers for a moment, feeling terribly exposed. Why had he stood up? It’s only a matter of time before both you and Jake notice that he’s had a very physical reaction to you sitting perched in his lap. Neytiri has already noticed, though she’s been kind enough to direct her gaze pointedly skywards.

“I will fetch you water.” He blurts, before turning on his heel and positively fleeing.

It’s a coward’s move, leaving you confused on the ground like that, but he feels as though if he doesn’t get away from your smooth skin and pretty smile he’s going to drown.

You’re just a human, he tells himself over and over. You’re not supposed to be that attractive. You’re not supposed to do that to me. That was just me being weak.

Tsu’tey only pauses when he’s on the very edge of the gathering, taking a moment to breathe.

You’ve always been such an affectionate little thing, but his nerves can’t take so much physical contact from you. You have no idea how much restraint he is attempting to exert, how difficult it is not to press his face into your throat and leave his scent behind all over you, or to keep his hands to himself instead of allowing them to wander all over your plush skin.

But he doesn’t want to make a move on you; harbouring these desires for a Sky Person is bad enough, but the possibility of being rejected is even worse. Both because of the humiliation of rejection, and because Tsu’tey doesn’t know what he’ll do if you decide it’s too awkward to be around him anymore. He doesn’t actually know what you want from him. You had laid out almost naked next to him, but you hadn’t made any advances either. He isn’t even sure if you like him or if the Great Mother just has a cruel sense of humour.

Tsu’tey is a little clumsy when he grabs at a waterskin, glancing across the gathering. Even from this distance, he can see the unhappy frown on your face as you speak with Jake, who is visibly trying to appease you. Neytiri has taken both of the babies in her arms, tucking Neteyam into the woven net carrier on her chest so that she can hold Kiri in the crook of her elbow as Jake speaks to you.

Tsu’tey winces a little and glances away again, reluctant to watch the aftermath of his outburst unfold.

A few of the warriors nearby are drinking fermented pasuk liquor, and Tsu’tey wordlessly takes a skin and takes a long gulp of it. His silent drinking earns him a couple of odd looks, but none of them seem willing to comment on it and he’s too busy drinking and trying to ignore the ache in his crotch to explain himself.

“Are you well, Tsu’tey?” One of them finally asks, a little hesitantly.

“Fine.” Tsu’tey says brusquely. His manner does not invite any further questions, and his peers fall obligingly silent. “I am taking this.”

He clutches the skin as he prepares to return to his place at the cookfire beside you, though he pauses to take another drink before he goes anywhere. From this distance, you look a little calmer; you’re listening closely to whatever Jake is saying, nodding with a little frown of concentration.

“Tsu’tey?”

He nearly jumps out of his damn skin. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the soft-footed approach of Saeyla, who has come up on his other side.

“Saeyla.” He greets, his ears pinning back in apprehension.

Saeyla smiles, but doesn’t blink. The effect is unnerving, and gives the impression of a predator watching him. He takes another deep drink from the skin, hoping that perhaps it will help him come up with some way to salvage his pride.

“You look stressed, karyu.” She notes, taking a careful step closer.

Tsu’tey tenses, his brow drawing into his usual scowl. “I am not your karyu anymore. You have passed your iknimaya.”

Saeyla just nods, still smiling a little. The air between them feels uncomfortable, but Tsu’tey wonders if he’s the only one that notices. He still feels rather awkward about how he had rejected Saeyla so harshly that night she had approached him beneath the Tree of Souls. He does not regret rejecting her, but he does feel as though he could have perhaps done so a little more gently than he had.

But while Saeyla has been avoiding him in the months since, it seems that now she is starting to get over some of the hurt he had inadvertently caused. It is a relief to see that she has decided to take a mature approach.

“I was wondering if you could help me,” She says, tilting her head. “One of the beams in my kelku collapsed, and it is too heavy for me to lift by myself.”

From the other side of the gathering, Tsu’tey can see you get to your feet and a bolt of panic shoots through him. Why are you standing? Where are you going? Are you leaving?

“Uh, yes,” Tsu’tey says distractedly, beginning to step away from Saeyla and back towards where he had left you. “I can help.”

“Later? After the gathering?” Saeyla asks, beginning to follow him.

“Yes, yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, waving her off before hurriedly leaving her behind.

Walking through the dinner gathering is like attempting an obstacle course, and Tsu’tey is distracted as he tries to avoid stepping on the tails of the gathered clan. Luckily, many seem to sense his urgency, and they sweep their tails close to their bodies as they watch Tsu’tey hurry back over to where he’d left you with Jake and Neytiri.

“Tawtute,” He says when he reaches you again, his ears pinning back. “Your water.”

You look a little surprised at his abrupt return, though you bite your lip and take the waterskin he’s offering all the same. “Oh.. thank you.”

As you pull your mask up and raise the waterskin to your mouth to take a sip, Tsu’tey spares a glance at Jake and Neytiri. Their expressions are about what he had expected; Jake still looks as though he’s trying not to laugh, while Neytiri looks distinctly pitying. Tsu’tey winces, and quickly looks away again.

You’ve only just taken a sip of the water he’s brought you when you choke on it, coughing and spluttering. “Oh— what the fuck—” You gasp, hurriedly fixing your mask back over your face as you heave for breath.

Tsu’tey’s stomach sinks, glancing at the skin that he had handed to you and then at the second one still in his hand.

“Uh—wrong one.” He grunts, snatching the skin of pasuk liquor back out of your hand before handing you the other one that’s filled with water. “… Sorry.”

You’re staring at him with some disbelief now, your eyes watering a little from the strength of the alcohol beneath your exo-mask. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” Tsu’tey scowls, then amends, “A little.”

You goggle at him with a look of faint astonishment, before you turn to look at Jake. Tsu’tey shifts, feeling rather unfairly jealous, and scowls when he sees you and Jake share a significant look.

“Right.” You say. You sound a little stiff, but you manage to conjure up a sweet smile all the same. “Well. I’m, uh, I’m going to head back to the outpost.”

“Oh.” Tsu’tey says. He hides his disappointment the best that he can, keeping his face still as his tail curls down by ankles.

“But, maybe you could walk me home?” You continue, your eyelashes batting at him.

For the first time, Tsu’tey realises that you look a little different. Your eyelashes are darker and longer, your skin tone smoothed out and even, your cheekbones a little shiny. Your lips look plumper and glossier too, a little redder than their natural tone.

He blinks at you, distracted and a little flustered by your appearance.

“Yes.” He says moronically, hastily passing off the skin full of liquor to Jake, who looks at it in bewilderment.

That makes you brighten, and you reach for his hand hesitantly as though you think he may pull away from you. Tsu’tey watches the way your small fingers intertwine with his much thicker ones, and feels his pupils expand as his tail coils in excitement.

He’s aware of the glances and whispers he’s getting from the rest of the gathered clan, and the irritating eyebrow wiggles he’s getting from Jake, the wolfish yet encouraging grins he’s getting from the warriors that he had taken the alcohol from, but he’s not focusing on any of it. All of his attention is directed towards you as you lead the way towards the forest.

“You look… nice tonight.” He murmurs, low enough that it’s just you that can hear. It comes out awkward, but he means it genuinely.

You glance up at him, and your face relaxes into a smile. You look so damn sweet, clinging to his hand and beaming at him. His heart is thudding hard enough against his chest that he swears it should be visible from the outside, and his own mouth twitches into a hesitant smile in return.

“Yeah?” You ask, your little white teeth gleaming in the remnants of the firelight as you lead the way towards the forest. “I put on a little makeup to come see you.”

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, but he likes the idea of you doing something specially for him. He feels rather smug as he follows along after you, taking small steps to try to match your pace.

The two of you have only just reached the treeline when Tsu’tey hears a call of his name, and he pauses and glances over his shoulder to see that it’s Saeyla. She’s jogging after him, her ears pricked high in interest.

“Tsu’tey,” She says with a coy smile. “You are still coming to my kelku later?”

You pause at his side, turning to watch her approach. Tsu’tey feels flustered, though he can’t put his finger on why. Your gaze is intense when it comes to rest on the side of his face, waiting for his response.

“Yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, eager to be rid of her.

Saeyla smiles, satisfied, her eyes drifting once to you at his side before she turns and saunters away.

Pleased to be alone with you once more, Tsu’tey turns back to you. He can hardly contain his feelings; his ears keep twitching, his tail is coiling and flicking in anticipation, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you. It’s so far from his usual demeanour that it’s embarrassing, but you don’t seem to notice; you’ve never been very good at picking up on Na’vi body language.

You let go of his hand and start walking again faster than Tsu’tey had been expecting, and he jolts into action to try and catch up with you. Your lips are pursed, all glossy and very appealing, and Tsu’tey almost walks into a low-hanging tree bough as he’s staring at you.

His desire for you is simmering at a low boil in his belly, impossible to ignore. It makes him ungainly, clumsy with his limbs and his words, makes him uncharacteristically stupid.

How is he supposed to pursue this? The ways of Sky People confuse him, though he has tried his best to understand you and your ways of thinking. He doesn’t know the customs of human mating, and he doesn’t want to accidentally harm or offend you. Perhaps he would be better off waiting for you to make an advance, but to even think of you making such a move makes him feel so... vulnerable. It's terrifying.

It takes a few moments to realise that he’s been so lost in his own thoughts that he hasn’t noticed the silence that’s settled between the two of you. He clears his throat and increases his pace so that he’s fallen in stride with you.

“You are quiet, tawtute.” He says carefully, questioningly.

He’s not expecting you to scoff, nor shoot him such a bland, unimpressed stare.

“Are you being serious?” You demand.

Tsu’tey blinks. He’s surprised by your sudden change in mood, and wonders if he should be treading carefully now. These sudden attitude changes are bewildering; is this a human thing?

“Yes,” He says slowly. “I am being serious.”

“Unbelievable.” You mutter, promptly speeding up once more.

You don’t get very far – your legs are comically shorter than his, and it takes very little effort to keep up with you.

The outpost is not far from the village, and even with your short legs the two of you arrive at it in no time. To Tsu’tey’s confusion, you march up to the entrance with hardly a second glance at him.

“Tawtute—?” He begins, stepping after you as you ascend the little steps up to the door.

You whirl, startling him into taking a little step back.

“You’re going to Saeyla’s after this?” You demand.

Tsu’tey stares at you, wondering if you’ve gone mad. Why are you asking him this when you had been present for the conversation?

“Yes.” He says slowly. “She asked me to.”

You purse your lips again. “Saeyla, your old student?”

“Yes.” Tsu’tey repeats, beginning to frown.

“Saeyla, who asked you to mate?”

“There is only one Saeyla in the clan.” Tsu’tey points out, a little confused.

Your nostrils flare, and he realises a moment too late that you do not like that answer at all. He flounders for a moment, trying to find a way to salvage the conversation, but he doesn’t fully understand what you’re irritated about.

“She asked for help,” He says, keeping his voice low. “She wishes for help with her kelku.”

“No doubt.” You say archly, your eyes narrowing. “I guess she’s a friend of yours as well.”

Tsu’tey would not have gone so far as to call Saeyla a friend, but he supposes that she had made an extra effort to approach him to mend some of the awkwardness between them. Tsu’tey had always interpreted their relationship as a mentor-student one, so her abrupt confession the night before the clan had gone to war with the Sky People had taken him entirely by surprise.

“In a way.” He says, unsure how to express all of that.

Your funny little alien face seems to tremble for a moment, settling into an odd expression. Not for the first time, Tsu’tey wishes you had proper ears and a tail so that it would be easier for him to tell what you’re thinking.

“Right.” You say, your voice a little dull. “Well, that’s great.”

But then you turn around and march up to the door of the outpost, and it hisses open to let you in. Tsu’tey perks up, frowning. Are you leaving now? You’ve never left without giving him some kind of little hug or squeeze to his hand, or a promise to see him tomorrow.

“Tawtute—” He begins, but you don’t turn around.

“Goodnight, Tsu’tey.”

“I will see you tomorr—” He begins, but the door slides shut with a firm hiss before he can finish.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It takes most of the day before Tsu’tey realises that something is wrong.

Hardly a day has gone by in the last few months that you haven’t shown up at the village to watch him train and cook, or to entice him out swimming or walking or gathering. While it was once met with annoyance on Tsu’tey’s part, he has come to enjoy your company. He looks forward to your arrival now, his whole body primed and eager as he waits for you to come to the village.

But the following day, you’re nowhere to be seen.

You don’t arrive for the morning meal, and you never come to watch him train. He waits around in the afternoon, trying to look busy as he waits for you to come to the village. When you don’t show up, uneasiness begins to creep in.

He waits for dinnertime, but you don’t come to eat with him either.

He eats in silence, frowning broodily into the fire and casting frequent glances towards the forest as he waits to catch a glimpse of you. He has to deal with sympathetic and questioning glances from Jake and Neytiri all evening, which makes his skin itch. They don’t ask questions, which arguably makes it worse.

Tsu’tey doesn’t even make it to the end of the meal before he stands, making the decision to seek you out instead of waiting around.

“Good luck, man.” Jake mutters rather ominously.

Tsu’tey doesn’t bother with a reply, abandoning his half-eaten food as he marches into the forest. He’s irritated to find that he’s worried. You had been in poor humour the night before, and he’s a little bit anxious about why.

It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that your mood and attitude had changed so drastically after the two of you had crossed the human boundary of nudity. Had he gone too far? Had you been uncomfortable? Perhaps you had realised that he was looking at you in a way that decidedly surpassed friendship, and you didn’t like it.

The outpost is a shoddy eyesore of human architecture, and it makes Tsu’tey’s nose wrinkle everytime he sees it. Despite all the time he’s spent with you, he rarely visits the outpost itself, but needs must.

It takes a frustratingly long moment for him to work out the mechanism of the door, and then he has to stand there with his tail whipping around impatiently as the door compresses shut and the atmosphere is forcibly converted to air that’s breathable for humans. When the second door opens up to allow him into the outpost itself, he muscles his way in and takes one of the stupid little masks to loop around his neck so that he can take infrequent sips of air.

The outpost is cluttered with demon technology and strange furniture, and Tsu’tey picks his way around the metal floor with his nose wrinkled. He dislikes the way it feels against his bare feet.

The first person that sees him is Norm, who’s sitting at one of the messy desks with his head in his hands. It’s rare to see him in his human form, his odd dreamwalker body tucked away for the night, but Tsu’tey grunts a greeting out nonetheless.

Norm doesn’t react the way he had expected. He jerks to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of him, and he blurts, “Oh, thank god. You’re here to apologise, right?”

That gives Tsu’tey pause, and he stares at Norm in some bewilderment. “Apologise?”

Norm doesn’t appear to hear him, too busy glancing over his shoulder towards the back of the outpost as he scurries a little closer.

“Man, she’s been upset all day.” Norm keeps his voice low, as though he’s worried you’ll hear. “Just—go in there and talk to her.”

Tsu’tey frowns, but he’s already drifting towards the back of the outpost. The shoddy building is split into several sections; one for working, one for recreation, one for sleeping. There’s probably more, but Tsu’tey has never bothered looking too closely at it. All he knows is that Norm has gestured to the back of the building, towards the sleeping area.

“She is resting?” He asks, keeping his voice low to match Norm’s.

Norm scoffs. “Uh, no, I wish. She got some of that fruit wine you guys drink at celebrations. She’s a little bit… uh…”

Ah. You have been drinking. Tsu’tey feels curiosity bubble up in his chest; he’s never seen you drunk before. In this moment, he wants to see nothing more.

“I will speak with her.” He murmurs, before leaving Norm behind in favour of ducking into the back section of the outpost.

The building is rickety and mostly partitioned with fabric curtains rather than the doors that the Sky People tend to favour. As such, Tsu’tey can hear the way Norm is shooing whatever other demons are left over out of the building, presumably to give him some privacy with you.

He finds you laid out in a bed near the back, floppy-limbed and sloe-eyed as you speak with another sky demon. You’re talking with your hands, clearly feeling very passionate about whatever the subject you’re discussing is.

Tsu’tey lets his eyes wander over you, enjoying the brief moment he has before you realise he’s there. You’re wearing thin white fabric shorts covered in some sort of blue pattern, and a small little top that only reaches your midriff. You look so comfy, so warm and soft in your cosy little bed as you drink Omaticayan fruit wine and complain to your friend. Tsu’tey feels a buzzing start up in his belly and the tips of his fingers; he wants to touch you so badly it hurts.

The other sky demon spots him first, her eyes widening at the sight of him as she leaps off the bed. It takes a beat longer for you to spot him, but then you’re scrambling to your feet as well.

“Tsu’tey—” You start, almost spilling the fruit wine in your hand all over your bed. “What are you—”

“You did not come to the village today.” He says before you can finish, stepping closer to your bed.

The ceilings in the outpost are high to accommodate the bodies of the dreamwalkers, so he towers over you as kneel up on your bed, frowning up at him. He feels his cock twitch; he knows he’s bigger than you, obviously, but the size difference between you feels so stark now that he’s looking at you all curled up in your bed, rumpled and a little disheveled from the wine.

“I’ll—I’ll see you later!” Your friend blurts, before turning and rushing out.

Satisfied now that he is alone with you, Tsu’tey allows himself to sink to his knees by your bedside. Even on his knees, he is slightly taller than you in your bed.

You look a little flustered, clutching your cup of wine to your chest as you blink at him with wide eyes. It draws his eyes to your breasts, and with a little thrill of delight he sees that the fabric is sheer enough for him to get a good look at the outline of your nipples all firmed up beneath your clothes.

He so rarely sees you without the mask, and he can’t help but notice how sweet your little face looks without the clear barrier. Your eyes are all glossy and a little hazy from the wine, and you’re looking up at him as though you can’t quite believe he’s there.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly. The moment feels so delicate, as though he might inadvertently shatter it with a raised voice, so he keeps his voice low and even as he reaches out to stroke over your squishy cheek with a single finger.

To his surprise, you jerk away from him, once again almost sloshing the wine all over yourself. You roll off the bed, holding your cup high, until you’re on your feet in front of him.

“Yes!” You say, and your voice comes out high-pitched and a bit shaky. “Fine, I’m fine. Why are you here?”

For a moment, Tsu’tey just stares at you. You’ve never pulled away from his touches. It’s always been him that’s been jittery around you, nervous in case he hurts you or pushes too far. But now you’re wobbling away from him and avoiding his gaze, and that makes something that feels a lot like panic settle into his bones.

“You are upset.” Tsu’tey notes, shuffling a little closer to you on his knees as you retreat.

“No, no, everything is fine,” You’re insisting, visibly unsteady on your feet as you totter around. “I don’t know why you’re here.”

It shouldn’t be cute, but Tsu’tey is coming to admit to himself that he finds everything about you unnervingly endearing. He watches as you struggle to straighten out your rumpled little clothes, admiring the way the thin fabric clings to you. You look embarrassed and a little self-conscious, as though he’s caught you out.

“I was waiting for you,” He murmurs, reaching for you again. He keeps his hands slow, as though approaching a wounded nantang. You’re such a jittery little thing, but you don’t pull away this time, allowing him to place a hand carefully on your hip. “You did not come to see me today.”

“I figured you’d be busy.” You say, your tone snippy and a bit bratty. “Thought you’d go and hang out with Saeyla today.”

Tsu’tey stares at you. What does Saeyla have to do with this? Is this why you are so upset?

“Syulang,” He murmurs, foregoing his usual nickname for you for a much softer one. “You always have much to say. Please talk to me. I am not understanding why you are angry with me.”

For a moment, he thinks that you aren’t going to speak to him at all. But then you grip your little cup of wine and raise it to your lips, drinking one deep gulp before looking at him in the eye with fiery determination.

“I’m embarrassed,” You snap. “I’ve been basically throwing myself at you for months now, so excuse me if my ego is a little bit bruised. The least you could have done would be to let me down gently instead of letting me embarrass myself in front of everyone—”

Tsu’tey goggles at you, hardly able to believe what you’re saying. “Tawtute—”

“No,” You interrupt sharply, pointing your finger towards him. “Don’t. You said I could talk now.”

Tsu'tey falls obediently silent. His tail curls around his thigh; he’s a little surprised by the way he physically reacts to your sharp tone. He’s never heard you sound so firm before.

“I’ve been—I’ve been wearing all that silly makeup, and wearing all those skimpy tight clothes because I thought you’d look at me more!” You continue, your voice trembling a little. “I’ve been following you around like a pathetic puppy, and sitting in your lap at dinnertime, and holding your hand, and—and—”

You’ve been hoping for him to look at you more? Couldn’t you tell that all he ever did was look at you?

“And then you just tell me that I’m not attractive, and you toss me out of your lap, and tell me that we’re just friends, and you tell me right to my face that you’re going off to sleep with your ex-girlfriend—”

Tsu’tey sputters so hard at that that he nearly spits, horrified.

“I never—” He starts, his eyes wide as his tail curls under his legs, his ears pinning back.

“You did!” You burst out, teary-eyed. “When I was practically naked in front of you, I waited for you to say something, to give any sort of indication that you might like what you were seeing, but you just glared at me and said nothing at all!”

Ah. Tsu’tey has never hated his resting scowl as much as he does in this moment.

“And then yesterday! You said we’re just friends, then you threw me off your lap, and then you said you were going to Saeyla’s kelku right after walking me home—” You continue, beginning to really work yourself up.

“No!” Tsu’tey blurts, reaching out and grabbing at your hand. His blue palm engulfs your much smaller one, and he holds it as delicately as he can. “No, you have misunderstood, syulang.”

“God, I don’t even know why I like you,” You sniffle. “You’re so rude.”

“But you do,” Tsu’tey murmurs, his eyes still wide at the sheer novelty of it. “You like me. You cannot take it back now.”

“Oh, you’re such a dick,” You hiss, yanking your hand out of his. “Did you come here just to rub this in my face—”

“I threw you out of my lap because you were sitting on my cock and I didn’t want you to notice how hard you made me.” The words escape Tsu’tey’s mouth before he can think about it, but you finally fall silent.

 You look a little stunned, actually, and Tsu’tey figures that he’d better start talking quickly before you come back to yourself and remember that you’re angry with him.

He pulls your cup out of your hand and raises it to his mouth, draining the wine in it himself in an effort to cultivate some liquid bravery. The taste bursts sharp and syrupy across his tongue. Of course, he thinks as he licks a dark drop from his lip, you would favour the cloying sweet wine. It suits you.

“Syulang, pretty girl, I do not like when you are upset.” He murmurs, shuffling closer on his knees. You don’t pull away, watching him come and allowing him to rest his hands on your hips. “Please listen.”

You’re still gaping at him, clearly a little thrown off by him stealing your wine from you. He takes advantage of your momentary silence by launching into his explanation. He hardly knows where to begin, but he decides to start with the most heinous accusation.

“I have never been intimate with Saeyla,” He murmurs, his thumbs stroking over your hips. “Never, tawtute. I have not been intimate with anyone in a very long time.”

Your throat bobs a little nervously, but you don’t interrupt.

“I have been taken with you for many, many months now,” He admits, and his ears flatten a little in embarrassment. He is not used to discussing his feelings, and it feels unnervingly vulnerable. “I know that I am grumpy, and rude, and I do not always express myself well. I have never been good at talking, and I can be too arrogant for my own good—”

You breathe out a shaky laugh and sway a step closer, as though you’re hardly aware what you’re doing. Tsu’tey’s grip tightens carefully on your hips, his breath catching in his chest as he urges you closer yet again.

“I have been so full of desire that it has been difficult to think,” He confesses in a low whisper. “It has been humiliating. I had thought— I did not want to scare you—”

He never gets a chance to finish his explanation. He’s partway through his sentence when you launch yourself into his arms, and he cuts himself off in favour of wrapping his arms around you to stop you from bowling the two of you over.

You start kissing his face all over, peppering eager little butterfly kisses all over the tanhì across his forehead and cheeks and all over his flat nose. He can’t help the delighted rumble that’s ripped out of his chest at the display of affection, and he tries to follow your lips with his face when you start to pull away.

“You’re so stupid,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey is so pleased that you’re smiling again that he doesn’t even feel offended about that. “I’ve been jumping in your lap and holding your hand every chance I’ve gotten. I took my clothes off and sunbathed practically naked with you, and showed you my tits—”

“I thought we were being friends.” He says thickly, leaning forward again in the hopes that you’ll give him another kiss. Even on his knees in front of you as you stand, he is so much larger and bulkier than you; it makes him want to tuck you away and keep you safe forever.

You groan, tilting your head back as though you’re in pain. “Tsu’tey. You’re killing me here.”

He can’t resist the temptation of your head tilted back with your throat bared, and leans forward to press his face into the crook of your neck. He rubs his cheek against your pulse point, feeling satisfaction bloom in his stomach as his scent is spread all over the vulnerable skin of your throat.

“I am sorry, syulang,” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your pulse. He feels you shudder against him, and clutches you tighter. “I thought it was obvious how I felt. The whole clan knows. Do you not see how they watch us?”

The laugh that leaves your mouth is a little thready, and your hands come to rest on Tsu’tey’s shoulders for balance as he nuzzles into your shoulder.

“I thought they were looking at me,” You whispered. “Because I was so obvious about how I liked you.”

Tsu’tey shakes his head, trying to hide the silly grin on his face into your soft shoulder. You like him. All of those months of ridiculous pining and yearning and humiliating stifled desire, only to find out that you desired him too.

“So…” You whisper, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “So, you did like my piercings, then?”

Tsu’tey groans, his fingers spreading wide over your back as he pulls you closer. You’re so much smaller than him that his hand spans almost the whole width of your back, and his heartrate picks up as he feels your soft body press into him.

“Yes,” He murmurs, his ears pinning back in muted shame at the admission. “I liked them.”

The smile that breaks over your face at that is almost blinding, and he’s surprised by your enthusiasm when you grab at his jaw and haul his face closer so that you can capture his lips with your own.

The fact that he’s kissing you nearly stalls his brain, but then he feels the softness of your lips and the wet heat of your tongue, and it feels as though his nerves are set alight. He grunts, using the hand on your back to hold you close against him as he kisses you back eagerly.

He’s trying to be as cautious as possible, worried about hurting you, but you don’t seem to share his concern. In fact, your fervor surprises him. You push at his shoulders, and though you’re not strong enough to shift him he follows your unspoken order anyway, until you’ve guided him all the way back to your bed.

He gasps, his vision going a little blurry as you begin trailing kisses along his jaw. He grabs at the mask to take a few clumsy breaths of air, his body hot and tense as you kiss him.

“Bed,” You breathe, pushing at his shoulders. “Get on the bed.”

“Tawtute,” He says, swallowing thickly. “Should we— do you wish to take this slow?”

You pause then, pulling back a little so that you can level him with a look. He’s always found your strange little face difficult to read, but even he can tell that you look decidedly unimpressed right now.

“You think I want to take this slow?” You repeat, nose crinkling. But then your expression grows a little unsure, and you start to pull away. “Oh. Do you want to take this slow?”

“No.” Tsu’tey says, far too quickly.

The two of you just look at each for a moment, blinking. Then Tsu’tey stands, his knees slightly wobbly after kneeling before you for so long, and sinks down onto your bed. It’s a tight fit, the bulk of his body hunching forward slightly as his knees bunch up, but his slight discomfort is forgotten immediately when you climb up into his lap.

Over the last few months, you have sat in his lap many times. This time is different – this time, you’re straddling his crotch, your lovely thighs bracketing his hips as your soft bottom rests over his cock. You’re still kissing him, your soft lips trailing all over his jawline then up to his mouth again, swallowing the appreciative grunts that pour from his mouth.

When he had imagined this, often late at night with his cock in his hand, he had pictured you soft and eager and sweet – and you are all of those things, but nothing could ever have prepared him for how hungry you are, how impatient and greedy you are as you push him back onto your bed and follow him down. Your bodies are pressed so tight together that there’s hardly an inch of air, yet you seem determined to wriggle even closer.

Tsu’tey moans quietly, leaning back among your threadbare pillows as you do your best to devour him. Your mouth is small, but you happily open it wide as you lick into his mouth, your little tongue tracing over his sharp canines in a way that makes him shiver.

“Can’t believe we had this conversation when I’m in my fucking pajamas,” You murmur into his mouth, pressing your soft fabric-covered tits against his wide chest. “I wanted to be wearing something sexy for this.”

All he can do is close his eyes against the onslaught of your lips and teeth on the exposed skin of his neck. Your small hands smooth over the planes of his chest, hot and possessive as they crawl over the front of his body.

“You are very beautiful, syulang.” Tsu’tey breathes, his hands finding a firm hold on your waist as your weight settles over him.

Then you grind down, and he’s already so aroused but now he can feel the heat of your pussy through those tiny damn shorts of yours and the noise that’s torn from his chest is completely undignified.

He grabs at you. It’s rough and presumptuous and honestly Tsu’tey isn’t even sure it’s a conscious decision, but before he knows it he’s grabbed you by the waist and is pulling you down to grind against his cock.

“Fuck,” You gasp, and Tsu’tey nearly loses it. “Oh god.”

You shuffle back a little, and Tsu’tey nearly audibly whines when he loses that glorious friction over his cock. But it turns out that you’ve only moved so that you have access to his loincloth, which you promptly begin to pull at.

“Mawey, yawntutsyìp.” He croaks out, though he’s already flexing his hips to help you pull his tewng off.

“Been wanting this for ages, you have no idea—”

Tsu’tey swears his head is spinning at the sheer irony of that, because he could have been experiencing this for ages?

His cock is freed from his tewng, slapping against his stomach with an embarrassingly loud smack. When you see how big he is, your eyes widen, and Tsu’tey has a horrible moment of panic where he worries that you’re going to change your mind. He would only be able to accept that choice, but he already knows that it will leave him with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experienced.

But you don’t let his no doubt intimidating size stop you from reaching out with your small hands to stroke him. A guttural growl is pulled from him, and he tilts his head back against your soft bedding and bites hard at his lip in an effort to control himself as you stroke at him.

“Oh, fuck yes.” You breathe, your expression nothing short of delighted as you stare down at him. He feels vulnerable under your gaze, naked in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve pulled his tewng off him.

He reaches out, tugs at your top. “I wish to see you, again.”

That makes you smile. The little fabric top you’re wearing is so thin that he can see the outline of your breasts and little nipples already, and as you lean forward to tug at his cock it gapes open at the chest to give him a tantalising glimpse of your bare flesh, but it’s not enough. He wants to see you bare and wanting beneath him. Or on top of him. He’s not fussy.

When you pull your flimsy little fabric covering off, Tsu’tey feels as though he goes momentarily light-headed as his blood rushes south. He’s seen you like this before, that day at the river, but this is different. This time, he’s allowed to touch.

You’re as soft as he’d imagined – softer, even. Tsu’tey’s hands are eager, reaching up to grope and feel, and you tilt your head back and moan softly as he kneads at your delightfully squishy breasts. He just can’t get over how perfect and pliable you are, your supple skin moulding and giving around his hands. He’s never experienced anyone as soft as you; the Na’vi are bigger than the Sky People, and stronger too. His people do not have the same shape, are not soft in the same places as humans. And he’s never thought too much about it, but now he feels like he’s losing himself in your supple flesh.

And then there’s the delicate little barbells in your nipples. Tsu’tey stares, wanting so badly to touch but nervous about going too hard or fast and accidentally hurting you.

“Remember I said they were just to look good?” You breathe, pressing forward a little to encourage his hands to roam over your tits.

“Mm.” Tsu’tey grunts mindlessly. He does recall something of the sort, but he doesn’t think it is fair that you expect him to think when he has your tits in his hands like this, one hand almost spanning your entire chest.

“I lied,” You whisper, your lips curving up in a smile so cheeky that it makes Tsu’tey’s toes curl. “They feel good, too.”

Tsu’tey groans, running his fingers slowly across your skin before finally touching the piercings, his touch smooth and warm.

A low moan of contentment escapes him. "Soft skin. Pretty piercings."

His hands cup your breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples. You were telling the truth about them; the piercings make you sensitive, and when you shiver under his hands, his gaze darkens.

"I want them in my mouth." He says suddenly, his voice rough and gravelly. His thumbs swipe over them yet again, and he looks up eagerly to you to wait for your permission as you sigh.

You laugh, though it's a breathless and weak sort of a thing. You’re trying to play it cool and casual, but Tsu’tey is holding your soft little breasts in his hands – he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his palm. "Go on, then."

He doesn't waste any time before he's bending his head and pressing harsh, biting kisses all along your chest. Then, getting sick of bending his neck down, he grabs at the flesh of your ass and hauls you up into his arms so that he can mouth at your nipples in earnest.

He licks over your left breast, feeling the little metal barbell against his tongue. It must feel good because you whine, arching your back and pushing your tits into his face even more. Your skin is so soft and sensitive, and it makes his rough tongue and big hands feel clumsy and coarse.

He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, his tongue playing with the strange little balls at the end of the bars. The metal is cool against his tongue, offering a pleasant contrast to your heated flesh.

“Ungh, shit,” You gasp, your little hands winding into his braids and gripping him there. “Tsu’tey… I wanna suck your cock.”

Tsu’tey freezes, his eyes going wide. Those words rock through him like a physical punch, and he groans as his cock visibly twitches against his stomach. He knows you can feel it, considering you’re still straddling him, and you begin to wiggle your way back as you try to get your face down to his crotch.

But as soon as you get your little hand on his cock, panic shoots through him. It feels good, so good, but he’s sure if you actually put it in your mouth he’ll die. He already knows that if you get your mouth on him everything will be over far too quickly, and he’s not ready to tap out just yet.

He grabs you and rolls, until you’re on your back staring up at him with a surprised little pout.

“I want that, tawtute,” He admits, his voice coming out in a gravelly rumble as he presses a careful kiss to your pouting lips. “But later.”

“But—”

He doesn’t let you finish. He’s too busy kissing your strange, alien little face, then down over your throat. You’re so addictive already. He wants to fuck you and have the whole clan listen, he wants to suck on your tits and have you crying, he wants to play with your clit until it’s puffy and swollen, he wants to play with your cute little hole, he wants to see you bouncing on his cock, on your hands and knees… He feels like he’s been set alight with desire, like the blood in his veins has turned molten.

His fingers hook into your little shorts and pull at them, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off. To his delight, you’re not wearing your tiny little fabric covering under them, and his tail whips in excitement at the sight of you bare beneath him.

“Oh,” He breathes, shuffling himself down your bed. It’s a narrow fit, and cramped, but Tsu’tey doesn’t care; his attention is fixed on you and the way your legs are spreading to accommodate the bulk of his body.

He takes in the sight of you eagerly, bare and glistening wet, and grinding against nothing, and he realises in that moment that his imagination could never have lived up to reality.

“I’m going to take care of you,” He mumbles mindlessly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your lovely plush inner thigh. “Going to make you feel so good, syulang.”

“Okay.” You sigh, the word coming out a little wobbly.

Tsu’tey’s tail whips from side-to-side as he gazes at your bare cunt, still hardly able to believe that you’re giving him access to you like this, that you like him too. It feels too good to be true, but Tsu’tey is not about to let this opportunity to pass him by.

“So pretty, yawntutsyìp.” He kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his flat nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But it’s not enough, it won’t be enough until he’s drowning in you.

You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer, desperate to drink his fill of you.

But even better than how you taste, is how you react.

You’re up on him so fast he barely has time to blink – no sooner has he laid his lips on your pussy, his mouth so big that it almost swallows you whole, than your hips are bucking up into his face. All he can smell and taste is you, and you’re so fucking wet and suddenly you’re rutting up against his face, not even caring if Tsu’tey’s mouth is open or not, as though you’re so desperate for him that all you can do is use him.

It’s the best day of Tsu’tey’s life. He’s going to mark this day and religiously celebrate it every year.

“Tsu’tey –!” You gasp, rutting your hips into his face. A wild, somewhat unhinged part of him hopes you break his nose. He uses his tongue against your clit and lets you rub yourself all over him, making his brain feel so blissfully empty.

He just moans into you, his hands wrapping around your plush hips and gripping at your squishy little bottom for leverage as he pulls you back against his face. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue laving over your hole, over and over and over, delighting in the way you gasp and moan and grind into his mouth.

His tail coils as his arousal pulses, forgetting himself as his fingers clench into your soft skin. You sigh, and drop your head back against the pillows as you move your hips to push your pussy back against his tongue. When he spears his tongue into you, you whine, but the sound is muffled somehow—

You’ve bitten your pillow, Tsu’tey realises, and groans. He wants so badly to get his hands on himself, to stroke and tug at his cock as he devours you, but he can’t bring himself to let go of you. He feels as though he’ll die if he lets go of your squishy ass, and his fingers knead insistently at it as he dines on your cunt.

He fucks his tongue into you harder, mouth open and jaw aching in the most satisfying way. It’s all worth it when Tsu’tey realises that you’re crying, just softly, your moans and whines wet, your breaths choked.

Tsu’tey’s fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when he’s satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open. Once the digits are wet, he pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch. You cry out, your thighs twitching as he stretches you out.

Your whimpering makes him feel bold, his cock weeping against his thigh. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He wants you to break— to crumble into pieces just so he can put you back together.

“Tsu’tey,” You slur out, your fingers gripping at his braids as you writhe under his attention. “Need to slow down, or I’m gonna—I’m gonna come—”

Your words fall on deaf ears; Tsu’tey is practically hypnotised by your little whimpers and cries as he sucks and licks eagerly at your squishy wet pussy, his fingers twisting and rubbing all along your hot, clutching insides. He feels desperate to experience you come against his tongue, and his movements take on an edge of fervor as he opens his mouth wide to suck your whole cunt into his mouth.

You squeal, hips bucking, and your feet kick out until they’ve landed on his shoulders. Tsu’tey moans, pleased by your reaction, and his mouth seals firmly around you as his tongue laps at your clit.

Your thighs suddenly clench around his head, keeping it in place, and he increases his pace, keeping it rhythmic for you. He buries his nose into your little swollen clit, letting out a hungry little noise as he sucks at you.

And then you’re gasping, the line of your body going taut and stiff as your orgasm rolls through you. Tsu’tey doesn’t relent, sucking and licking at you as you tremble and shake apart. Your release tastes so sweet, like hot syrup on his tongue, and he can’t get enough of you. Your thighs grip his head so hard that the muscles tremble, and he relishes the pressure of your legs squeezing around his skull.

It doesn’t take long before your legs are kicking again, wheezing as you grow oversensitive and push at his head. With great reluctance, Tsu’tey pulls his mouth away with a wet ‘pop’, licking his lips before leaning in to suckle a series of biting kisses around your inner thighs.

He feels a little light-headed, still so hungry. He knows his eyes are heavy-lidded with his own arousal, his whole body throbbing with the need to take you, but he’s trying so damn hard to control himself.

“Oh god… fuck.” You breathe, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.

That certainly strokes Tsu’tey’s male pride, and he looks up at you with a pleased, if slightly dazed, smile. He’s breathing heavily still from having devoted his entire attention to pleasing you and forgetting to breathe, and it takes a moment for him to realise he needs to sip from the stupid mask. He fumbles for a moment, grabbing at it and taking several deep breaths before dropping it again and leaning up to kiss at your cute little lower belly.

“It was good?” He asks. Judging by the look on your face he knows the answer, but he can’t help but want to hear it straight from your mouth.

You laugh, a little disbelievingly, then place a hand onto his chest and push lightly at him until he’s rolling over onto his back. You follow, swinging your leg over his hips and settling down so that your spit-slick pussy is nestled right up against his hard cock.

“So good,” You whisper, and it practically comes out like a purr. “So fucking good.”

Tsu’tey’s tail curls and his ears fold back, his stomach swooping in anticipation at the coy tone of your voice. His cock twitches too, very interested in the way you’re sitting on it. When you rock your hips lightly, allowing your slick pussy to glide along his length, he groans breathily before reaching to grab at your waist, trying to hold you still.

“Wait, syulang.” He says, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. “You are so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s not expecting you to laugh at that, as though he’s said something that you find adorable. You lean in and kiss him, your lips soft against his hot, swollen ones.

“You’re not the first Na’vi I’ve had,” You whisper against his mouth, giving him yet another sweet kiss. “I know what I’m doing.”

He bristles at the thought of another Na’vi hunching over your little body, rutting into your hot wet softness. His hands tighten around your waist as a bolt of possessive jealousy flashes through him.

“Who?” He demands, his face scrunching up in a scowl.

You just giggle, leaning down to kiss the wide bridge of his nose. Tsu’tey’s ears fold down, a little mollified by how cute you are, though his scowl doesn’t lessen much. Your hand runs over his chest, your fingers stroking over his heated skin.

“Oh, shush.” You say with a fond smile, as though you think he’s joking. “What, did you expect me live like a nun while you were ignoring me all that time? I didn’t even think you liked me.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t know what a nun is, but he’s distracted before he can ask. You lean down slowly, running the tip of your tongue along his throat. You pause to bite him gently right where his vein pulses, and the rush of sensations from your touch nearly sends him spiraling.

“Besides,” You whisper, “I feel like you just sucked my soul out through my pussy, so I really don’t think anyone else is ever going to compare.”

The purr that your words pull out of him at that is embarrassing, but his body reacts before his brain does. Yes, he thinks smugly, I am better. It feels incredibly important to him that you know he is the best option, the man that can please you best.

Tsu’tey feels like he’s melting under you. The heat of your bare slick cunt against the length of his cock is fanning a fire in his blood. He bites at his lip as he feels your lips on his pulse, harder now, kissing softly, tongue flicking against the skin.

Your hand slides lower, and then finally your hand wraps around the base of his cock. He groans, bucks up, but didn’t mean to. Thankfully you just laugh, obviously amused as you’re lifted up by the momentum of his hips.

 “Tsu’tey, baby,” You whisper, and oh, your voice is going to drive him insane. “Does it hurt, being this hard?”

Tsu’tey openly chokes, and you give him one slow stroke. The feeling of your small soft hand against him has his mind blanking entirely for a second. You pause to rub your thumb under his cockhead, against the bundle of nerves there, and Tsu’tey moans as his eyes flutter shut.

“Pretty boy,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey gasps, feeling his lip quiver. He cracks his eyes open, just to see you smiling down at him. “Do you like when I call you pretty?”

Tsu’tey looks away and says nothing – but you just giggle.

“You’re pouting, Tsu’tey.”

“I am not.” He grumbles, though his cheeks are uncomfortably warm.

Your hands move, one stroking around his cock, the other cradling his balls. Tsu’tey arches, pushes into your hand as you twist your fist around his glans. His mouth falls open, a breathy moan escaping, and you visibly shiver. He tries to push himself up on his elbows so that he can watch as you shift atop him, hips rocking forward gently as you stroke at him.

“Syulang,” He manages, licking at his lips as his voice comes out all breathy and desperate. “Please.”

You grin at him, your eyes soft and affectionate as you watch him disintegrate beneath your touch. Then you’re lifting up onto your knees, using his chest as leverage, and Tsu’tey holds his breath as you position yourself over his cock.

“Breathe, baby.” You laugh, taking his mask and holding it up to his face.

He takes several deep breaths, feels the blurred edges of his mind sharpen, and reaches down to grab his cock. He helps you to position it, his cockhead gliding along your slick folds.

He has to pause for a moment, closing his eyes as his ears flatten back against his head. You’re so damn soft, your cunt is so hot and sticky wet, and he already knows that the moment his cock pushes inside of you he’ll be fighting for his life not to come instantly. He just wants to last long enough to please you, to make you feel good.

You let out a soft noise, your hips twitching as you try to hump your pussy back onto his cock. He has to grab your hips to keep you still, grunting.

“You’re teasing.” You whine, clutching at his arms as you try to wiggle your way back onto him.

“Mph.” Tsu’tey grunts, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to contain himself. “Mawey, syulang. Patience.”

But patience doesn’t seem to be your strong suit. Your bright eyes have gone dark, pupils blown, forehead glimmering with sweat – you look beautiful, and Tsu’tey feels like he’s dying.

You lean forward and crash your mouth into his, kissing him hard and messy as you wriggle in his lap, trying to coax his cock inside you. Tsu’tey moans into your mouth, but then you’re pulling back, and your lips press against his nose, his cheeks, his forehead.

Still breathing deeply, Tsu’tey aligns his cock against your pussy, and at the same time as his sweet girl peppers his face with kisses, he begins to push inside. You whine at the pressure of the stretch, your forehead pressed against his as he presses his cock into you slowly, as slowly as he can manage.

“Come on,” You groan, leaning forward and letting your blunt little teeth scrape over the sensitive tip of his ear. “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

“Calm,” Tsu’tey gasps, clutching at your plush little hips in an effort to keep you from slamming yourself down on him all at once. “Calm, yawntutsyìp, I do not wish to hurt you—”

But his words are lost when you shift over him right as he begins to press into you again, and from one second to the next he slides half-way inside, past the small ring of resistance and into the velvety hot inside of your cunt.

It’s like a gut punch.

He moans like a dying man and holds you as tight as he can in an attempt to ground himself enough not to start thrusting. You gasp, your features scrunching into a pained wince as you’re split wide around the thickness of his cock. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your discomfort, so he rubs your puffy clit to try and make it better for you. His calloused thumb rubs slow circles on it at the same time as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting and whimpering. 

Fuck, he needs to move.

Just a bit –

Just to take the edge off –

His hips pull back and then quickly snap forward again. “Fuck.”

It’s so easy it’s sinful. He pushes through the tightest cunt he has ever been in and it feels like home. He groans roughly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t help but look down, and he almost whimpers at the sight of your cunt stretched wide around his thick length, at the aborted little twitching of your hips as you try admirably hard to take him in deeper. You’re so much tighter than he expected, and it takes everything in him to pull back again.

When he withdraws, your pussy grips him all the way to the tip, making him feel so insane he had to immediately dive back in, gasping. He’s too big to fit inside of you completely, but that’s okay; your tiny pussy grips hard enough at the length that you can take that Tsu’tey feels like he’s about to black out.

“Yes!” You cry out, arching your chest against his so that he can feel the cool sensation of your piercings against his skin, your fingers knotting into his braids as you lift yourself up then down on his cock, meeting his sloppy thrusts.

Tsu’tey feels as though the world is fracturing around him as he pushes himself into your tiny little cunt, feeling your pussy clench around his cock like a fist. It's so tight and sweet, his dick feels as though it's being pulled into paradise.

Being inside you is heavenly; it’s like your sweet little pussy is made for him, molding to him and stretching where it needs to, squeezing him tight to the point of pain. He pistons in and out of you from below, finding his own pace as the bed shakes from the force of his thrusts. You make soft, wet little sounds, a wanton creature in response in response as you undulate atop of him.

Your tits bounce every time he thrusts up into you, and he finds his eyes glued to sight before his self-control cracks and he’s leaning forward to take one of your breasts into his mouth. It takes a bit of contortion, his spine curving as his mouth locks around your tit, his tongue rolling against your little pierced nipple, his ears wiggling eagerly as they pick up your little mewls.

Oh, he’s not going to last long; he already feels like he’s losing his mind.

Soft, desperate little noises are babbling out of your mouth as you fuck yourself down on his cock, clutching at his shoulders for balance. Your jaw is slack and your mouth is open, and Tsu’tey can see flashes of your little pink tongue as you gasp and whimper everytime he rolls his hips up into you. Your movements have taken on an edge of desperation as you ride him, your pussy squeezing him so tight his vision is going blurry.

Then your little body is seizing, weak gasping moans spilling from your lips as your spine goes stiff. Your cunt clenches in sporadic little pulses, and Tsu’tey nearly roars at the intensity of it – your pussy sucks so tight that it almost hurts. It’s a weaker orgasm than your first one, but you still sob your way through it as you clutch at him.

“Oh, syulang, fuck.” Tsu’tey grits out, the human curse word sounding coarse and foreign on his tongue.

He wants to do this forever, to stay buried in you all night, but you’re sucking him in and clinging to him in a vice grip as you push back against him, and he’s about to explode. He’s overwrought, grunting against your sweat-damp skin as he clutches your soft little body close to him, the motion of his hips turning jerky and sloppy as he feels that tingly pressure grow in his stomach.

He lifts you off his cock with a cut-off snarl, grabbing at his cock with a clumsy hand as that pressure bubbles over. He comes with more force than he had been expecting, his come spurting out onto your belly and over your tits, dripping steadily over your smooth skin.

Part of him is a little embarrassed about how quickly he had come, but the larger part of him feels it was impressive that he didn’t spill the instant he got his cock inside of you. But you’re pouting up at him, clutching at his chest as you push back against him.

“No,” You whine, your voice quiet and tired as you try to grind your messy pussy back onto him. “Wanted you to come inside.”

Tsu’tey is already breathless, but the sweet little whimper in your voice nearly knocks him flat yet again. His cock is still throbbing, the last few drops of his release spurting out and glowing lightly against your skin. He takes in the sight of his seed spattered across your pretty little body greedily, committing it to memory. Nothing in his raunchiest wet dreams could have compared to the reality of this moment.

“We will have time for that, yawntutsyìp,” He whispers, his stomach clenching in excitement at the thought. “You will not need another man again.”

You grumble lightly, but he can see the satisfied little smile on your face as you go limp in his arms, burrowing closer to his chest as you collapse down next to him. Having you in his arms feels perfect; his tail curls in satisfaction when he realises how perfectly you fit against his chest, and he purrs smugly as he nudges his nose against your temple.

He rolls, scooping you up and arranging you so that you’re laying sprawled at his side, before curving his body around yours and wrapping an arm around your little body. Your body is still glistening with sweat and the dimly bioluminescent streaks of come that Tsu’tey has left on you – he’s torn between the urge to care for you, to clean you up and make sure that you’re sated and pleased, and to leave you marked and carrying his scent.

He’ll clean you up in a few minutes, he decides, allowing himself to enjoy the sight of you after being thoroughly claimed for a little while longer.

“If you ever say we’re just friends again I’ll kick your ass.” You mumble, pressing your face into his pectoral muscles.

You’re acting as though your bones have been dissolved into jelly, laying all limp and pliable against him even as you squirm closer. Tsu’tey allows himself to just stare at you, admiring all the subtle little bite-marks and bruising that he can’t remember leaving behind, admiring your puffy nipples and your still gooey cunt.

“Mm.” Tsu’tey hums, dipping his head down and laying it carefully on your chest. He’s a little nervous that he’ll be too heavy, but your small hands come up to tangle in his braids and scratch soothingly at his scalp. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, enjoying the plush softness of your breasts under his face.

“I like you very much, syulang.” He says, enjoying the pulse of your heartbeat beneath his head. “I am sorry that I have been slow to understand your interest.”

You laugh a little sleepily, craning your neck so that you can kiss his forehead before laying back again. “You certainly did a good job showing me your interest just now.”

“I will do more,” Tsu’tey promises, hardly even aware of what he’s saying. “I will collect kllpxiwll berries for you everyday, and go swimming as often as you like, and make you pretty jewelry, and keep you satisfied—”

You start to laugh before he even finishes.

“Who would’ve known a big grumpy asshole like you is capable of being so romantic.” You snicker as he nuzzles into your tits.

Your lack of a tail and blunt ears make it hard for him to read you, but he can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him. He just curls around you, not minding at all. He enjoys the thought of proving to you exactly how romantic he can be – he has much to prove, and much to make up for.

“I am not grumpy now.” He mutters, turning his face so that it’s buried neatly in between your tits. He licks lazily over your left breast, savouring the feeling of the little silver barbell nestled in your nipple against his tongue.

You shiver, a soft little overwhelmed gasp escaping your lips as he kisses leisurely at your puffy and oversensitive nipples.

“No,” You murmur, and he can hear the fondness in your voice. “You’re not.”

Tsu’tey purrs, his whole body curving around you as he kisses absent-mindedly at your tits, his thoughts pleasantly hazy and somewhat nebulous.

“Breathe.” You remind him tiredly, your voice a little slurred around the edges with sleep.

Upon your urging, he lifts the stupid mask back up to his face and fits it clumsily over his mouth and nose. He wraps his arm around your waist, holds you tight, and just breathes as the two of you lay together, sated and satisfied.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"

Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.

People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.

I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.

These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.

This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.

The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.

There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:

"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."

That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG for the opla requests if they r still open !! something with a jealous or protective buggy x reader would be perfect!!

My requests are always open! 🦦❤️💕

It’s not a stretch to say that when Buggy becomes jealous it’s purely because deep down he’s heavily insecure man, despite how cocky and confident he may come across as, whilst shit talking whoever opposes him with a shit eating grin.

But that grin never meets his eyes as the muscles in his jaw visibly tighten and whilst on the topic of his ever so beautiful eyes, they didn’t seem to twinkle nor gleam with their usual mischief whilst doing his routine theatrics; Instead they held a type of malice that acts to conceal the actual emotions running through him in real time.

While he prides himself in having someone that everyone else wanted -that person being you- in regards of how often he’d look away from you for one second, only to find you being chatted up by some stranger within the fraction of the time it took for him to blink! Buggy also couldn’t help but feel as though that his time spent with you was steadily inching towards it’s impending end. For each and every person that came up to you ended up being more beautiful or more handsome then the last, that it made Buggy very insecure in his own outward appearance as questions he’d had shoved down a while back beginning to resurface.

Things such as;

Were you happy with him?

Or did you like what you were seeing elsewhere?

Do you think him hideous?

Or were you biting your tongue out of pity for him and his glass heart?

But most importantly; did you still love him as much as the day you openly confessed to loving him?

Or had that love wavered over time as new temptations were brought in and out of your life?

These questions torment him well into the night the longer it went on, but not once did he think that he could tell you about any of this without you thinking that he’s lost trust in you. Which wasn’t the case; Buggy trusts you a whole lot more in comparison to the people who were openly trying to shoot their shot with you whilst he was right there to witness all of it happening.

And so naturally it pissed him off to the point where that no matter where it was that you went, you’d always be carrying something of his that boldly told anyone and everyone who it was that you belonged to. Whether that be hickies spanning the length of your neck and other visible places, his Sigil drawn on somewhere or smears of his makeup on your face from physically intensive activities.

This guy is like a peacock when threatened; he makes himself look as big as possible, makes loud threats or -when push comes to shove- going as far as to straight up challenge the person whom threatens to steal you away from the flashy fool; After all, nobody was aloud to take away his most precious and most priceless treasure. Hell Buggy even has you perched on his lap as he’s sits upon his throne, one hand propping up his head whilst the other hand rested against your waist, keeping you in a position where you were reliant on him.

You’re his just as much as he is yours and he’s not about to let some random person ruin all that.

All you need to do on your end is actually quite simple; reassure Buggy that he was everything you’ve ever needed in a partner and so much more, that it dashes the possibility of there ever being anyone else to smithereens, for no one else could come close to your beloved Buggy.

Gently hold his face in your hands as you kiss your love and adoration into his skin, making sure to give most of your attention towards that cute nose of his, knowing how it’s the main source of his insecurities, as he straight up falls apart in your hands. Literally. You have his head in his hands whilst the rest of his body was a pile of parts at your feet that you wished you could take a picture of this moment forever, but due to you being occupied for the rest of the day, so in the end you made an attempt to memorise this moment to memory as best as you could so that you could always go back to it when you’d fallen asleep in bed beside him.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious effect you have on this goof who fills your heart with so much love, that sometimes it made verbalising your feelings harder then necessary. And yet seeing your lovers eyes fall shut and hearing his breathing even out from just your touch alone made the honeyed words flow like water.

It didn’t take much to quell Buggy’s fear and his upset but don’t think you’ll be getting away anytime soon, I’m afraid your stuck there until Buggy feels like he’s had enough. It’s like the equivalent of having a cat fall fast asleep on you for the first time since bringing it home, you don’t wanna move in the instance of accidentally waking it up.

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

【Synopsis】 : Your two roommates love to make it hard for you to find a partner… but what happens when they stop you at the door of your apartment and "convince" you that you deserve better.

『Word Count』 : 1.06k

-> Genre: Suggestive, Angst. Fluff. Slice Of Life Au

Pairing: Stucky x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Mention of shitting dates and shit men. Fingering. Talks about sex. Use of the word cock. Dirty talk. Dom/sub play. Power play. Reader is lowkey a brat. Neck kisses. Begging.

Masterlist | Navigation

You wanted to look good, be good. Be enough. And tonight was your night. You dressed up in a beautiful and mostly sexy outfit, wanting to impress and attract this new guy you were seeing. Well, speaking to mostly online. This would be the first time you’d be meeting him and you hadn’t planned to be in a position of being fucked, but if it were to happen you were more than prepared. Grabbing your keys off your side table and checking yourself once more in the mirror before heading towards the door quickly so you don’t run into your roommates. 

“And where do you think you're going?”

Fuck… You freeze in your spot, hearing the deep grumble behind you, mostly coming from the archway leading to the kitchen. You spin on your heels to face the beefy man behind you. He looked like he had just woken up, with his tight muscle-t hugging his chest, while his black joggers weren't doing anything to your imagination on his clear erection. “Oh, Heyyy Jamie. I was just… Heading out..”

You knew he wasn’t stupid and you knew for a fact he had noticed you were more attentive to your phone and practically glued every time a notification popped up. But to be fair you were probably touch-starved, and an attention whore so it wasn’t your fault. “Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?” You snapped

“You know why.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. You step towards him getting in his face with slight frustration. You knew Bucky and Steve liked to tease and flirt with you but every time without fail, when you went out on a date they always found a way to make you not go, or take you somewhere else instead. And they would always say it’s because they didn’t like the men you chose or the people to picked and ‘None of them are good to you. You deserved better.’ But deep down you knew, or more wanted them to say something else. Say it was ‘cause they wanted you, they want to be with you. But no. They were your roommates and nothing more. 

“Say it…” You're right in his face, holding your ground. He seemed surprised by your actions, usually, you would come quietly but this time he was seeing a new side to you. A bratty one. His smirk made your blood boil, was he enjoying your suffering? 

“What's going on here?” Steve walked in with a groggy voice and blood-red eyes, most likely being at his desk all afternoon working. “Why do you look all dolled up?”

You huffed crossing your arms in front of your chest, staring at the two annoying boys. They quickly exchanged looks and when Steve hummed lowly, it was like they both had a mental conversation. “ You seeing a guy?” Steve spoke up.

“And you care again, why? It’s not like you’re my boyfriends.” You rolled your eyes, turning your back to them. You started putting on your shoes, ignoring the clear anger rising in Bucky and the frustration in Steve. 

“Why do we care—ha. You aren’t worth those disgusting men's time.” Bucky cut himself off, scoffing at your words. "Those boys you see are a waste. And you don't need to throw yourself at them."

Throw?! Did he really say you throw yourself at men? All you do is try and get Bucky and Steve’s attention, and they never reciprocated it. So you kind of had to look elsewhere. You felt invisible around them like you were nothing more than a roommate. You couldn’t even find any combat to his harsh words, so instead, you turned around to leave while scoffing in disbelief. “Whatever, I’m going.”

Before you could grab the door handle a pair of large hands grabbed your waist, pulling you backwards until your back hit a very broad chest. A hand snaked around your chest up to your neck until fingers grip your chin tilting your head to the side so your face was suddenly inches away from Steve?!

“S-Stevie?!” You never even heard him walking towards you let alone being right behind you. Did he push Bucky out of the way from the small hallway? Why was he suddenly so close to you, to the point you could feel his heartbeat against your back, and his breath on your lips? 

“Close your eyes.” His voice was low and deep, like velvet and cream. God, you felt so wobbly from his hold. You didn’t listen, eyes darting between his own trying to understand what he could mean.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“I said…” His hand moved from your waist to the hem of your hands, fingers dipping slightly into the top of your jeans. Your breath hitched suddenly figuring out what he wanted, what you now wanted. “Close your eyes, Angel. Trust me.”

Your eyes shut quickly, maybe too quickly and that’s probably was you could hear a low chuckle erupts from Steve. You felt Steve’s hand slip further into your jeans and you wiggled in anticipation. You wanted so badly to open your eyes and take a peek at Steve but you tried your hardest to listen to his orders, and when you were about to whine in frustration another pair of hands gripped your wrist, swinging your body until your back hit the wall with a huff.

This time you opened your eyes, staring Bucky right in his dark eyes. He and Steve were caging you against the wall, and Steve wasted no time in latching his lips on your neck, making you whine all the while you were never leaving Bucky’s stare. 

“My, My is this what we needed to do in order for you to listen to us, we would of done it sooner.” His tone mocked you, making a shiver ripple down your spine. You couldn’t understand where all of this was coming from but you feared to ask as words might make them stop so instead, you whimpered. “I bet you feel so good coming around a cock huh?”

You gasped suddenly feeling Steve’s cold fingers slip into your jeans, past your panties and pressing harshly down on your clit. Your mind becomes clouded and your heart races, hips grind on his hand to ease your frustration. “P-please…” You beg for something, anything. For one or both of them to hurry up and give you the pleasure you’ve been so desperately craving for who knows how long now.

“So pretty when she begs huh?” Steve purrs in your ear, making your eyes leave Buck for a split second to look over to the shorter male. Bucky took your distraction to step closer until all three of your bodies were smooched against one another in the tight hallway. Hands everywhere, feeling any part of your flesh they could find. While two tongues lick along your neck and exposed chest. You were overwhelmed and both of them were going to use it to their advantage and make sure by the end of the night you were nothing but a whimpering, crying mess.

[sarahisslytherin]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful. 

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear. 

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!” 

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

[kitasgloves]

comforting your insecure bf

part 1 . part 3

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ Tendou Satori

Growing up, Tendou Satori didn't have anyone to rely on until he reached high school where he met his teammates on the volleyball team and his best friend Ushijima Wakatoshi. Having experienced bullying in middle school, he created doubts he'll find someone who will love him.

Until he graduates college and moves to France, Tendou becomes a profound chocolatier and sells his chocolates in Paris. It seemed fate had planned it when you walked into his shop and purchased a box of his famous sweets. The way you smiled at him was sweeter than any chocolate Tendou has tasted. He was too stunned to even ask for your name before you walked out of his shop. Tendou had a serious sweet tooth because he was craving for your smile.

Fate has heeded his longing because you returned to his shop again with that sweet smile of yours, by then Tendou dared to ask for your name. Your visits have become frequent, on the third visit he makes you smile, the fourth he makes you laugh, on the fifth he asks for your number, and on the sixth you ask him out on a date.

It appeared so ideal, falling in love with a sweet chocolatier in Paris. Tendou stole your heart with his precious humor and his earnest feelings. Everything looked perfect the moment you and the chocolatier became a couple. Tendou thought he was contented, letting you move in with him. But then he believed everything was moving too fast, you two went beyond kissing and before he knew it he was overwhelmed.

However, he doesn't have the heart to tell you. He's afraid that if he did, you'd give him some space and he doesn't want that. He doesn't want you to be out of his reach, he doesn't want you to leave him. Because Tendou believes he'll never find someone who'll love a weirdo like him. He's already skeptical if you're genuinely in love with him. Even as an adult, he's still bothered by the looks people give him when he's with you. He knows what they're thinking.

What is a weirdo like him doing with someone beautiful like you?

"Satori? Are okay, chérie?"

Tendou blinks and awkwardly smiles at you while nodding. His eyes returned to the television screen but his mind was elsewhere. And you can tell, for the past few days, Tendou has been acting out of his character. He stopped telling you jokes and making chocolates with you. Something was bothering him. Wordlessly, you took his hand and pulled him up from the couch. There was no protest when you took him to your shared bedroom. The two of you settled on the bed.

"Darling, I know something is bothering you and I want you to be honest with me"

"I'm sorry, I'm just feeling a little bit unwell"

"Satori..."

Tendou sighs at your warning tone. You gently took his larger hands, sharing your warmth. He can feel his eyes grow wet.

"[Name]...why the hell did you fall in love with me?"

You blinked, there was a shake of your head and a lighthearted smile on your face. You know how bizarre Tendou can behave, which makes him unique. His red buzzcut and quirky smile captured your heart. You didn't give a shit if everybody else found him weird, to you he's the most perfect man you know.

"Do you want me to show you, Satori?"

Tendou wouldn't have imagined this scenario. You settle behind him, your hand fisting his cock as he is forced to watch everything through the bedroom mirror. It didn't help that the mirror was huge and he could see every explicit detail. The precum leaking out of the slit of his dick, a red flush all over his face, and your soft hand pumping his length to draw moans out of his lips

"Ah! Chérie! Please slow down!"

You only smiled sweetly at him and continued jerking him off, he threw his head back with a strangled moan.

"Eyes on the mirror, darling"

Tendou obeys with his head spinning in pleasure. He can hear his heart palpitating wildly in his ears as you pull him apart with each stroke of your hand.

"You asked me why I fell in love with you. How could I not when you're such an adorable, funny, and caring man?"

"How could I not swoon at every chocolate you make and gift for me? For every kiss we shared under the Paris lights? And the way you swept me off my feet and took me to bed after one month of being together?"

Your pace on his cock went slower, you wanted him to hear every word you said. Tendou can feel his breath going shallow at every sentence.

"I don't care what people think of us and neither should you. As long as I'm happy with you, to hell with what they think"

"[Name] I-"

"Oh Satori, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to get married and start a family"

Suddenly, your hand wandered to his balls as you played with them. Tendou's moans echoed in the room as the pleasure went crashing in. His eyes watch you through the mirror as he feels his release building up.

"Oh fuck, [Name], please!"

"Do you want that too, darling?"

"Yes! Fuck yes! Shit, I'm gonna cum!"

"Yeah? Go on, cum for me, Satori"

His hands grip the bedsheets as his hips bucked upward on your fist as he cums. You continue to pump him, letting the cum shoot out and leak on your hand. Tendou hisses as his eyes watered at the overstimulation. You kiss his neck tenderly after his orgasm. He was catching his breath when he looked at his messy reflection, he chuckled to himself. Suddenly, you pressed your lips against his ear.

"The next time you cum, it's going to be inside of me"

Tendou gulps as a bashful blush covered his cheeks. You smile sweetly at him as if you didn't whisper the nastiest shit he has ever heard against his ear.

— ♬ Hirugami Sachiro

Your first encounter with Hirugami Sachiro was when you took your dog to the vet for a check-up. You recently moved into the area and it was your first time visiting a new vet. Hirugami could've sworn Cupid pulled one of the stupid golden arrows and shot him in the back when you both locked eyes for the first time. You were gorgeous and you had an adorable dog too.

He treated your dog with utmost care and you couldn't even be happier. Since then, you started getting monthly checkups for your dog. Hirugami always looked forward to each of your arrivals, and each time he could feel himself slowly falling hard for you. At every check-up, you get to know the veterinarian more. You knew how he used to play volleyball, how he's the youngest of his siblings, his pro-volleyball best friend Hoshiumi Korai, and even his sweet dog named Kotarou.

Before you two knew it, you both grew closer and closer at each encounter. It was a matter of time before one of you would profess your feelings first. And it was Hirugami. He asked you to hang out outside of the vet to grab lunch and he confesses. He was expecting a rejection from you but you surprise him by returning his feelings.

It was only natural for you and Hirugami to become a couple. It was the happiest both of you have been in your lives. You kiss on sidewalks, have romantic dinners, and take your dogs together at the dog park. Everything felt perfect. But suddenly, you got busy with your work.

You were so busy that you had to take your dog to your cousin's to take of them for you because you didn't have time to do it. Hirugami pretended that it barely stung when you talked less and less with him. You both stopped seeing each other every day. There wasn't any bitterness rising it was just dead silence. Hirugami figured he should focus on his profession as a veterinarian. The both of you wouldn't have proper contact for weeks to the point Hirugami becomes concerned.

He didn't understand why you were busy all of a sudden, to him, it's like you barely made an effort to check on him. He felt pathetic desperately reaching out for you until he began doubting himself. What if you grew tired of him? What if you started seeing somebody else? His thoughts frightened him. Hirugami wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you. Before he realizes it, he's falling back to his bad habits back in high school.

Hiruguami used to be a perfectionist during volleyball, he'd blame himself for every mistake he made. He mindlessly scrapped his knuckles against a stone surface to the point that it bled. And he was doing it again, although less harshly. When you finally had the time to see him, you immediately asked to go over to his place.

When you saw your boyfriend your heart dropped, he looked like he was barely taking care of himself. There were dark bags under his eyes, he seemed paler, and bandages on his knuckles.

"What happened to you, Sachiro?"

You asked him, visibly concerned. It made Hirugami guilty. You two catch up during dinner and he finally tells you what is going on with him. You can feel your heart shatter.

"I thought I was never going to be the perfect boyfriend for you, [Name]"

"Is that why you began scraping your knuckles?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Hey, don't be. I should be the one apologizing for not trying to reach out"

"But you were busy, and I understand that-"

"Sachiro, that's still not an excuse to suddenly cut contact with you"

"But I should've done better, you know? I could've"

"Sachiro"

You firmly stopped him. Hirugami bites his lip and looks at you like a scolded child. You sighed as you went over to take his hands and kiss his bandaged knuckles. He was facing away and it seemed like he wasn't getting the message you're trying to get across. Then, you thought of an interesting way to do it.

"[Name], shit!"

Hirugami gritted his teeth as he observed you stroking his cock in front of his bedroom mirror. Everything happened so fast, one moment you were fervently kissing him and the next you were behind him giving him a handjob.

"I missed you, Sachiro"

You purred from behind as you gently pumped his cock. No matter how much he tried to resist, Hirugami couldn't peel his eyes away from the mirror. His pants were clumsily pulled down, sweat dripping down his neck, and his face completely flushed. He was so mesmerized with your hand stroking his length.

"I'm sorry for making you feel bad, baby"

"You deserve to be treated better because you're so sweet, nice, and handsome"

Hirugami's mouth falls open as a moan escapes his mouth. His eyes shut when the pleasure overtakes his body when you suddenly grab his chin.

"Keep your eyes on the mirror for me please?"

You requested and who was he to deny you? You jerked him off at a pleasurable pace as he watched himself melt in your presence.

"You're the best boyfriend in the world, Sachiro. I'm not letting you think otherwise"

"You're so hot, passionate about your job, and the best at making me cum every time we fuck"

Hirugami lets out a low groan when you reach for his sack as you start to massage it. Every thought of insecurity vanishes in his head as he focuses on you as you drive him lightheaded.

"[Name], fuck! I wanna cum!"

"Not until you tell me that you're the best boyfriend in the world"

When you begin to tease his slit with your fingers, he grabs your thigh and glares at you through the mirror. The feral look in his eye made him look so attractive. He looks at you dead in the eye through the mirror as you physically shiver.

"I'm the best boyfriend in the world"

"Damn right you are, and don't you ever forget that"

With that, you viciously pumped his cock to the brink of orgasm. The pace was so overwhelming that Hirugami's eyes rolled back as the most earth-shattering orgasm hit him. He could've sworn he went to heaven and back. After his release, he sees through the mirror that his cum has stained his abdomen and your hand. His hair was a mess and he's covered in sweat all over.

"Feeling better now, Sachiro?"

"I am, thank you"

He smiles at you as you return the gesture. But then you begin to pull your shirt over your head as his eyes bulge out of their sockets, before he can say something, you possessively grab his shoulders.

"How about we make up for the time we lost, baby?"

— ♬ Miya Osamu

During the humble beginnings of his business at Onigiri Miya, you stumbled into Osamu Miya's life. Freshly graduated from college, you clumsily entered his shop hungry and prepared to devour anything available on the menu. You were done after a grueling job interview. Osamu was eager to feed you whatever was best on his menu.

"Oh my gosh, this is so delicious!"

You exclaimed as you pointed at the Onigiri he served to you, there was an adorable glimmer in your eyes that Osamu couldn't help but blush. He tries to cover it by tilting his hat downward to cover his face. Somehow you have successfully made his heart race by your smile alone. He learns how bright and friendly you were when you gave him your name, he eagerly spells out his. At that moment, he's convinced his life is about to take a drastic turn.

You visit Onigiri Miya daily, always talking to Osamu as you two gradually became close friends. He recently learned you got a job as PR in MSBY Black Jackals, and he freezes. There is no doubt that you have met his twin brother, Atsumu Miya. That bastard probably tried to flirt with you, maybe tease you or subtly make a suggestive remark. Osamu's chest grew tight.

Even if he and Atsumu shared the same face, people naturally flocked to his brother more. Despite his cocky attitude and unapologetic behavior, people overlooked the flaws Atsumu had because of his magnetic looks. After all, Atsumu genuinely makes an effort to look good. He learns how to bleach and properly style his hair, how to dress stylishly and make everyone swoon behind the cameras. Compared to all that, Osamu barely tried.

Osamu just pulls on whatever he finds in his wardrobe, no matter how horrible it looks. He only knows how to brush his hair (he stopped letting Atsumu dye his hair dark grey again). And he's awkward when there are cameras around. Osamu becomes convinced that he'll never have a shot with you.

"'Samu! Are you even listening?"

You placed your hands on your hips and raised a brow at him. Osamu snaps out of it and sends you a timid smile and a rub on the back of his neck. You huffed.

"Sorry, what did ya say, [Name]?"

"I said, do you want to go on a date with me?"

"What?"

Osamu's eyes grew wide and gazed at you with pure astonishment behind the counter. He points to himself as his jaw drops to the floor. You couldn't hold back a giggle.

"Ya want to go on a date? With me? Me?"

"Yes, you idiot"

"Holy shit"

Well, he wasn't expecting that. On that weekend, you and Osamu went all over the city, exploring and eating street food. You held his hand for the first time and he could've sworn his heart leaped out of his chest. He decided to grow some balls and ask you to be his. And your only response was a wide smile as you grabbed his cheeks to give him a long and sweet smooch on the lips.

"Oi, scrub! Ya got any beer here?"

Atsumu yelled inside the kitchen. Osamu was one step closer to horse kicking his brother in the face. You shook your head and went to tell Atsumu there were beers in the fridge. Tonight was supposed to be a date night but Atsumu decided to show up at his apartment unannounced and crash it. You seemed unbothered considering you deal with the blonde merely on a daily at your job, but Osamu was uncomfortable.

The three of you watched some Ghibli movies. You were wedged between the twins eating snacks and drinking beer. As the night went on, Osamu couldn't shake off the feeling that he was uninvited in his place. You were being loud with Atsumu, sharing jokes and trading insults. You were being too naturally close to his brother that it's making his body heavy.

"M'gonna go ta bed"

Osamu mumbled as the end credits played after the movie, you stopped talking with Atsumu and watched your boyfriend drag his feet to the bedroom. Osamu collapsed on his bed, burying his face against his pillow. He remembers the fight he had with Atsumu back in high school after he admitted that he was going to quit playing volleyball. Since then there has been a competition that who lives the happier life, and Osamu was beginning to think he was losing.

There was a knock on the door before you entered his bedroom, Osamu avoided your gaze and pretended that he had passed out. You poked his leg and called out for his name softly, enough to tug on his heartstrings. When he faces you, your features display worry.

"Are you okay?"

"M'fine, [Name]"

"Is it because of 'Tsumu?"

"No"

Osamu replied so quickly that it answered the lingering question in your head. You sighed as you tugged on his arm, pulling him upwards from the bed. You smiled as you fixed his messy hair, but he didn't meet your eyes.

"Are you jealous, 'Samu?"

"No"

His tone was sincere. You hummed as you went behind him to wrap your arms around him, Osamu gazed at you through his bedroom mirror placed in front of his bed. He sees the tender look you give him through the mirror that he caves in. He spills his rising insecurity and how he deeply compared himself to his twin brother. And you were baffled.

"Osamu you fucking idiot"

"Huh?"

"Do you think I'm gonna leave you for that pisshead setter?"

"I mean, he's better lookin'-"

"Don't tell me you're letting him win"

Osamu shuts his mouth, he remembers how he shared with you about his ongoing sibling competition with Atsumu. You shake your head as your hands trailed to his belt, unbuckling it. Osamu gulps and stares at his unlocked bedroom door.

"Ugh, those two better not be fucking"

Atsumu mumbled as he played another movie on the TV. Meanwhile, Osamu was trying his hardest not to let an obscene moan leave his mouth as you jerked him from behind. He wouldn't dare let Atsumu hear what was going on inside the bedroom, and he wouldn't dare let his brother win the competition.

"Ah! Hmm, fuck [Name]"

"Osamu Miya, you fucking moron. Do you believe Atsumu is better than you?"

Osamu only answered through hushed and choked moans. You pumped his length faster, watching as precum leaked out of the slit. You pressed your lips against his ear.

"You're such a fantastic boyfriend. You're a hardworking business owner, you make the best damn onigiri, and you're so fucking hot. So, why the fuck are you comparing yourself to him?"

Your hands trailed to his ballsack to massage it and Osamu throws his head back, biting his lip to hold back a whine. You forced his head forward to the mirror.

"Eyes on the mirror, babe"

"Hnngh, [Name], please"

"I'm in love with you Osamu Miya, and you only. You better tattoo that shit to your brain, sweetheart"

"Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad [Name]!"

"Really? Are you done comparing yourself to Atsumu?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, yes!"

"Good, go on, cum for me, Osamu"

You purred as you wrapped your delicate hands around his cock as you stroked him rapidly. Bringing him to his sweet release. There was no way his twin wouldn't have heard the moan he unleashed as he cums. His hips jerked forward as his seed stained his pants and your hand. His eyes roll back as he throws his head backward with his mouth ajar. All he could hear was the sound of his loud heartbeat. As he comes back to his senses, he sees you smiling at him through the mirror. He chuckles.

"Well aren't ya full of surprises"

You laugh. He turns to grab your cheek to lean down and tenderly kiss you. Osamu smiles like he has won the lottery, no, even better. He has someone who loves him for who he is.

"Thank you, [Name]"

"You're welcome, baby"

Osamu couldn't fight back the smug look on his face as the two of you rejoined Atsumu in the living room. Atsumu gives him a narrowed look.

'What the fuck are ya smilin' for?'

'I win'

'The fuck?'

— ♬ Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa Kiyoomi was comfortable on his own. He learned how to be independent and never relied on anyone constantly. For the most part, he's a natural introvert. He did have friends. Well, it's all thanks to his cousin Komori Motoya forcing him to socialize or his job as a professional athlete who needed to get along with his teammates. Sakusa thinks that having a few sets of friends he's good to go. Until you had to ruin everything.

You were the cheerful manager of the MSBY Black Jackals. Something about your warm and welcoming demeanor made Sakusa's nose scrunch. The way you smiled and talked with everyone like you had known them for years, it was uncomfortable for him to watch. However, you didn't force any conversation with him. You only greeted him and smiled. Yeah, he appreciated that but he's still cautious about you.

Over time, Sakusa learns there's a certain depth to you. That you weren't just all smiles and laughter. You're a professional human being with an emotional intelligence beyond him. You're incredibly sympathetic and intelligent and he's impressed. You're observant of people's perceptions of others and emotions. No wonder, you didn't force yourself to him.

You gave him space and respected his excessive cleanliness. Sakusa decides you're good in his book. What changed everything was when he was unexpectedly stuck in a crowd. It was absolute hell, he got lost navigating the team during an event. On the brink of an anxiety attack, you showed up.

"Sakusa-senshu!"

You called out, concerned at the way he was hunched forward seemingly on the verge of losing consciousness. Sakusa can feel your pinkie finger linking with his, he regains his focus. He looks at you as you lead him out of the crowd by his pinkie finger only. Perhaps out of respect because he doesn't like anyone touching him.

"Are you okay, Sakusa-senshu?"

"Yes, thank you [Name]"

When you smiled at him, his chest grew tight. It felt different. It was as if his world grew clearer and he could suddenly breathe perfectly. On the way to meet up with the team, he grabs your shoulder.

"Kiyoomi"

"Hm?"

"Call me Kiyoomi"

The moment you earned the permission to call him by his first name, your relationship with him changed. The two of you grew closer in such a short amount of time. The team was calling the spiker out for favoritism because Sakusa treats you kinder compared to them. He talks to you the most during breaks, he shares snacks and hand sanitizers, and it went as far as letting you high-five him after a game in which everyone was enraged.

Sakusa had never met someone who had made him smile so hard that his cheeks hurt, someone who knew what made him laugh until there were tears in his eyes, and someone he wouldn't mind breaking his own rules for. Whenever he looks at you, Sakusa finds it hard to look away. And before he realizes, he's falling for you.

And he's fucking petrified. Sakusa wasn't entirely smart when it came to romance, he never planned to fall in love with you. So, he bottles it up inside of him for years and it becomes unbearable. He figured you weren't ready to have a relationship let alone with him. And that you wouldn't want him to be your boyfriend. He's strict, a jerk, and a clean freak. Aside from his handsome looks and his amazing athletic abilities, Sakusa wasn't interesting.

However, unexpectedly, when he learns you're about to quit being the manager of the team to pursue another career, Sakusa panics and spills his feelings for you. He tells you he's been in love with you for ages. He doesn't want to see you leave without telling you how he feels. Shockingly, you laughed and smiled at him as you told him that the feelings were mutual. At that moment, Sakusa was convinced he had found true happiness.

The two of you dated and became official for six months. There were ups and downs in the relationship but it worked. Sakusa learned how to balance his growing volleyball career with his time with you. And you were happy with your newly chosen career and without failing to make Sakusa fall for you even more.

Tonight, the team invited Sakusa and you to a local club to celebrate the recent win against the SCHWEDEIN Adlers. Sakusa was about to quickly decline until you immediately agreed. So, here he is, alone by the bartender, nursing his cup of alcohol while he watches you dance with his friends. He could join you if he didn't detest crowds and dancing.

You were in your element, having fun with Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu. The four of you were stuck in your own world lost in the music. Something foreign bloomed in Sakusa's chest. It squeezed his heart and yanked it violently. He shakily finishes his drink as he frowns and watches you forget about his existence on the dancefloor.

Sakusa imagined if he was more likable, he'd join you and the guys on the dancefloor. If he wasn't a fucking coward, he'd grab you and spin you around to the music. If he wasn't boring, he'd give you the time of your life partying in the club. Sakusa sniffs as he finds himself exiting the club and driving home, lost in his sea of insecure thoughts.

When he arrived home, he received multiple text messages and missed calls from you. God, he's such a fucking dick for leaving you there at the club. He calls to tell you he's sorry and that he's back home. You later arrived at his apartment and saw him slouching on his bed, frowning. You were sweaty and fresh out of the club but he lets you embrace him.

"Sorry, I felt...overwhelmed"

"It's okay Ki, I just got worried. Let's just stay here, I'll tell the guys we went home"

"You...you should head back to the club"

"What? Why?"

"You were enjoying yourself out there with them and I just...ruined it"

Sakusa looks away. You sighed as you grabbed his chin to gently peck him on the lips.

"No, you didn't ruin anything. I would ditch them in a heartbeat if you said you wanted to go home, y'know"

"[Name]..."

"Kiyoomi, you matter more to me than anything else, okay?"

"I just can't help but wish I was more...fun for you"

"What do you mean, Ki?"

Sakusa shrugs and you frown. You settled from behind him to give him a tight hug. He sees you do so in front of his large bedroom mirror.

"If only I didn't hate crowds or physical touch, I would've danced with you at the club"

"Ki, you know I don't mind that, right?"

"Maybe if I wasn't so...boring you would've been happier"

He mumbled, and you huffed. You didn't like how Sakusa was putting himself down because it was so unlike him. The Sakusa you knew was confident and had no ounce of self-doubt. If only you could prove to him he's so much more than that.

"Uh, why are you smirking at me like that, [Name]?"

Sakusa never predicted this circumstance at all. His pants pulled down to his thighs, his cock out and your pretty hand stroking his length. Sakusa watched with lidded eyes and low moans as you give him an erotic handjob from behind. He grips your thighs as he feels his heart bang against his ribcage.

"Oh fuck, [Name]!"

"You like that, pretty boy?"

You grin devilishly at him through the mirror and he just grows even harder. The way you pumped his cock makes his head spin deliriously.

"Look at you, Ki. You're so pretty and hot moaning like that"

"[Name] please"

He whimpers and it encourages you to jerk him off faster. Sakusa goes briefly crossed-eyed as he watches the pornographic scene in the mirror.

"You're the most kindest and amazing boyfriend in the world, Kiyoomi"

You told him softly. He groans when your hands reach to cup his balls, he can feel drool leaving the corner of his mouth.

"You're so good at volleyball and cleaning, plus you know how to cook! Oh, I just can't wait to marry you soon"

"You-oh fuck!-mean that?"

"Yes, darling. You're not boring, not to me, never"

"I-ah!-I'm glad"

You smile sweetly at him as you return to pumping his cock faster. Sakusa's breath hitched he released a loud moan. With your free hand, you grab his chin to make him watch himself fall apart right in front of the mirror. You bite his earlobe.

"Are you gonna cum, pretty boy?"

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes!"

"Go ahead. Cum for me Kiyoomi"

As your words echoed inside his head, Sakusa hit his orgasm like no other. It felt as though his soul left his body as he shot his load all over your hand. His head was thrown back with his jaw slack. As he slowly descends back to his body, he feels the sweat all over his skin and his cock softening. You kiss him on the cheek and fix his curls out of his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Kiyoomi?"

"Fucking great"

You smile cheekily at him but he only gazes at you breathlessly with lidded eyes. He slowly turns to directly stare at you, he couldn't be more in love with you, he swears.

"Ki? Why are you staring at me like that-oh shit! Wait! Stop, you're going to tear my clothes!!!"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

[blingblong55]

Valentine- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

(photo belongs to: @ave661 )

Based on a request:

For fluffy ghost - he's a big intimidating looking dude but animals LOVE HIM. Dogs, cats, rodents, everything. I love the idea of him being trapped on a couch bc too many sleepy animals are on him. Kittens like to climb him. Rodents want to snuggle in his hood or his pocket. Dogs are obsessed and follow him and want to give him kissies. Hed be really good at finding lost pets cause they just come running up to him out of nowhere. (That or like imagine having a cat that's super friendly and telling him your cat doesn't like people so when the kitty cuddles up with him he will feel special).

GN!Reader, Fluff, Friends to lovers

I've rejected affection For years and years Now I have it and damn it It's kind of weird

He isn't much of a people person or more that everyone finds him to be intimidating. But lately, as you have become closer to him, he found himself, wandering the halls of the base, looking for you. And occasionally, there'll be some furry friend with him. There have been times when you call him snow white for that reason alone. Sitting under a willow tree? A bird, deer, cat, and/or dog goes to him and cuddles on his lap or shoulder. You find this so beautiful, it gives you some new perspective on him.

Sometimes during field training, he will get the occasional guard dog to stand by him and rub their body on his leg, begging for a head rub. This has become so frequent, that he has gotten used to it. One time, while in an active war zone, he got tackled by a very friendly dog. Soap was about to shoot it when Ghost laughed a little. "Don't you worry, sergeant, we got a friend, now." You and Soap look at each other, giving the other the 'Again' look. One time, purely because you were all waiting for the helicopter to pick you up, he began to attract all sorts of friendly animals. So much so, that one of the animals became the birthday gift to Price's little girl.

I've lost all control of my heartbeat now

Another time, Gaz begged his lieutenant, to fetch a kitten for his girlfriend and as always, it worked. As you two grow closer and closer, he visits your home frequently. You two usually stay in your back garden, sitting by the grass and then soon the birds begin to chirp by the branches, this is only when he is there, no other time. "You know, this is nice, having this time with you." he softly confesses. His balaclava on your sofa's arm while you two enjoy the warm sun by the grass. Before you could even answer, your two pups and the grumpy cat who hates everyone approach him and purrs. "Bloody hell, Simon. You've done it again!" You laugh and he stares at you.

"This is a real problem I struggle with, R/N." He tried to pretend he was angry.

As time went on, and your pups grew, he began to be stuck somewhere during the winter visits. Your cosy sofa. Your dog lying on his chest and thighs, the grumpy cat that adores only him by his shoulder and the newest puppy he got you, tucked by his hood. It's a site to see, for sure and it's the best one you can get as his new partner. You always thought it was that his body radiated warmth but you soon found yourself to be going to him like a magnet. It's an inexplicable force that pulls you to him. It's safety, comfort, familiarity and understanding that he radiates to those vulnerable, delicate and small creatures.

The way he is, a giant, grumpy man, with three hobbies, smart, strong, rough but the way he protects everything that is at arms reach. That is what makes him so unique and special. You never viewed him this way when you first met. Never thought he was into puzzles, history and reading. His mind is so great and if he wanted to, he could be a successful professor elsewhere. Maybe it's the years of his own struggles and how he understands those who might be close to another breakdown that brings a certain level of comfort. Perhaps its how he caresses the creatures that crawl to him, that yearn for the love he gives. And maybe now it's you that is added to that list.

I still feel a shock through every bone When I hear an, "I love you" 'Cause now I've got someone to lose

Six years ago, you found him. He petted two stray cats and a squirrel on his shoulder, the one he kept feeding before winter. And now, in a dim kitchen light, listening to jazz, swaying in his arms, that is home to you and those sweet things. "My R/N, you have to sway like this." His hand was on your hip, the other holding your hand as he guided you. That skull balaclava hidden in the drawer of your now shared home. No longer the grey flat he lived in as a soldier but now, in a small, cosy and beautiful home as your husband.

Even to this say, when you go to the park to walk your pets, he has some new furry friends that come to him. And he gives you that look, 'Again' as you, with a big proud smile take a bag of treaties from the bag you carry for this occasion. He and you sit in a bench, just like the old couple that frequently sits across from you both. It's like staring in a mirror, he tells you every time. The man across from him feeds the birds, while he feeds the dogs or cats near him.

I blinked and suddenly I had a Valentine

[written-in-flowers]

Traditions and Expectations: Pt. 1

Pairing: Aegon II x SisterWife!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, slice of life

Word Count: 7k

Summary: It is Targaryen tradition for brother to wed sister, as you'd done with Aegon. But with no eligible son for your daughter, you've had to look elsewhere for a betrothal. The question is whether to abide by Targaryen traditions or allow your child to follow her heart?

Tags: chubby!aegon, domestic life, arranged marriages, canon-typical incest, brother-sister marriage, mother/daughter themes, family expectations, hubby/wifey stuff, smut, vaginal fingering, breast play, nipple play, multiple positions.

Tagged: @lovelykhaleesiii

***

Your mother decided you'd be Aegon's wife on your fourteenth nameday. It is customary in Valyrian tradition for the eldest son to marry his eldest sister. As Targaryens, one of the last families who escaped Valyria's downfall, you followed this tradition despite societal and religious norms in Westeros. You being the eldest daughter and Aegon being the eldest son, the betrothal was set and you'd be married when you both reached maturity. Your entire life people  knew you'd marry Aegon. It was simply a fact you'd known growing up. 

But, unlike your mother, you will not have it as easy.

You sat in the cushioned chair on your veranda which overlooked the small courtyard outside Maegor's Holdfast, and pondered on marriage. Down below, your eldest child, Daella, practiced her archery skills on targets in the training yard. Thirteen with cascading lengths of silver hair, Daella had beauty, brains and brawn. She stood tall and slender, a petite waist cinched by a leather belt. She is the epitome of beauty, but also strong and bold. It did not matter how many times you scolded her for wrestling with the stableboys and firing off arrows, Daella still did it. It got to a point that you gave into her adventurous nature, letting her ride off on hunts with her grandfather and uncle and take up archery. 

You watched her taking out arrows from her cloth target, and wondered if her husband will let these passions flourish. Many Westerosi men dislike women who take on "men's sports' '. To them, ladies of noble status should stick to dancing and reading poetry, not participating in archery challenges and learning how to skin animals after a kill. Having a bride who can out-ride and out-shoot them might displease them, therefore ruining any chance of a betrothal. Were your eldest son, Baelon, born first and Daella second, they'd be undoubtedly matched. But Daella is much older than Baelon, who is your third child. Vaelen, your second boy and fourth child, is not a suitable match either. You and your mother concluded that Saera, your second child, would marry Baelon. Vaelen will likely marry the baby in your belly, or another noblewoman. 

This means you need to find a husband for Daella. Most noble marriages are political ones, so naturally you'd want a lord that is close to The Crown and doesn't mind marrying a dragonrider. On the table beside you, you looked at the four scrolls you'd received today. You'd spent ages pouring over the different noble houses in Westeros, searching in vain for a husband that would please your daughter. She wouldn't marry just anyone. You told your mother you wanted Daella to have a happy marriage. You wanted her to experience the love and warmth you often felt with Aegon. In the end, it came down to four possible suitors.

Fourteen-year-old Tymond Lannister was a nephew of Lord Tyland, current Master of Coin. Lord Tyland told you all about his handsome nephew who could wield a sword, battle ax and morningstar. A boy like him, he said, could handle the fiery Daella. His father, Lord Jason, agreed to a possible marriage between his son and Daella. It would benefit both parties: The Lannisters are one of the wealthiest families in Westeros. Having them tied by marriage will ensure the wealth of the kingdom stays intact. 

Twelve-year-old Osric Arryn is the younger cousin of Lady Jeyne Arryn. You heard about his jovial and tender hearted nature from people around him. A husband with a soft heart but a firm hand might intrigue Daella. Lady Jeyne’s reply alluded to them coming to terms over her dowry. Another good match for Daella and the family. The Arryns have a large army as well as The Eyrie, an impenetrable fortress. She will be well protected and cared for there, which mattered to you greatly. 

Thirteen-year-old Edmure Tully is the auburn haired, freckled, strong man you thought Daella may like. You'd seen the boy once at a tourney, standing much taller than most his age with a man's body starting to grow. Being her age, she might relate to him better. His father, Lord Grover, told you while Edmure might seem hard on the outside, he had a heart of gold. A marriage pact with House Tully brings more security to them in the Riverlands. 

All three of them accepted. All three of them are good matches. Yet, it is not these that give you pause. It was the fourth scroll that still remained unopened. You saw the aquamarine seal with the Velayron seahorse stamped in the middle, and hesitated. It had been several years since you’d last seen your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Since then, Jace has become Heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, married to Baela Targaryen. Luke lives on Driftmark alongside Lord Corlys, his grandfather, and his bride-to-be, Rhaena Targaryen. 

It cannot be Luke who has reached out to you. You’d recalled hearing about Jace and Baela having children of their own. Admittedly, you couldn’t get the children’s names straight but you knew they had a boy and two twin girls. You picked up the unopened scroll, and rolled it between your fingers. Glancing back into the yard, Daella had switched from archery to axe-throwing. Ser Criston told you she’d become intrigued by it after seeing a man doing it at a tourney for your wedding anniversary. You only asked her to use the smaller ones to avoid injuries. Jace and Baela’s son must be her age. Your father received the news around the time you’d given birth to Daella. But, you might have that information wrong. 

“Ah, there you are, my love.”

Aegon appeared from behind you, hands behind his back and a grin on his face. He gave you a soft peck on the cheek, and took the chair opposite you. A maid served him a cup of wine, which he drank from right away. You continued staring at the scroll in your hand, afraid to open it. You know what will be written inside. No doubt it was your sister, Rhaenyra’s, idea. A part of you considered the idea since Rhaenyra will one day be queen, and with Prince Daemon at her side, your entire family may be at risk. 

“How are the children?” he asked you, looking down into the yard where his sons trained with Ser Criston. 

“Fine. Daella’s aim is improving impressively,” you answered absentmindedly, not fully focused on him. 

“Hm,” he nodded, “Vaelen’s swing is improving as well. I know he mopes about his sword training, but I told him it’s important for the sword to be as sharp as the mind.” 

“Aegon.”

“Wife?”

“Jacaerys…He has a son, doesn’t he? I remember Father mentioning it once or twice before.”

“He does,” he said cautiously, holding a cheese cube in his hand. “I believe his name is…Gods, what is it?” he racked his brain for a moment, then said, “Aerys? Aenys? I don’t remember exactly. It starts with an ‘Ae’. Why do you ask?”

“I received a raven from Baela this morning,” you told him. 

He popped the cube in his mouth, then actually looked over at you. Seeing the worry on your face, he asked, “And what does it say?” 

“I am not certain,” you said. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

He picked up the scroll from Lord Jason, read it, then said, “Marriage proposals?” 

“From Lannister, Arryn and Tully,” you told him. “They all agreed to make terms.”

“And that one is from Baela?”

“Yes,” you showed him the small paper with its seahorse seal. 

“You wrote to them?” he asked, bemused. 

“I had not. It came this morning with the others.” 

Aegon looked at you, then said, “Are you going to read it?”

“I can’t,” you said, shooting out your hand to him, “You read it.”

“Darling, I do not see what the harm is in reading a letter,” he chuckled. Aegon took the scroll from you, and broke the seal. Your stomach churned when he read the first word, “Dear Princess YN, I hope this letter finds you and your family well. My sister, Rhaena, informed me that you and Aegon are making plans for a marriage pact for your daughter, Daella. As you know, Jacaerys and I have a boy who is her age named Aeron-Ah, yes, that’s the boy’s name!-” Aegon snapped his fingers with a satisfied smile, “I propose a marriage between our two houses. I understand the relationship between our families has been detached for several years. But, I have very fond memories of our youth, and I hope with this union we can begin to repair that breakage between us. My lord husband and I will be arriving in King’s Landing in a fortnight for Prince Baelon’s birthday tourney-Who told them about it? Did you?”

“Certainly not. It must’ve been Father or Rhaenyra.”

“Hm, I suspect as much. ‘I will be more than happy to discuss possible terms with you then. I eagerly await your response. Signed, Baela.’ Hmpf, how informal of her.”

‘Memories of our youth’. What memories? When Luke cut out your younger brother’s eye and never received punishment? When Luke and Jace teased Aemond for not having his own dragon? All the numerous times that your father favored Rhaenyra and any of her offspring over you and your siblings? You’d gone your entire life being told that when Rhaenyra ascended the throne, your family was a challenge to her rule. The eldest of Viserys’s children from his first wife, he’d proclaimed Rhaenyra his heir. When Aegon was born, he should’ve immediately been named heir to the throne, but he wasn’t. Now, Aegon showed no interest in being king and never mentioned a desire for it. But, with her husband Prince Daemon in her ear, Rhaenyra might feel threatened by Aegon and his four children. 

Your children. 

Not only your children, but your sister, Helaena, and brother, Aemond, too. Their children, twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, young Maelor, and baby Rhaenor.

Your uncle and Rhaenyra’s husband, Prince Daemon, is not well known for his kindness. 

“What is your decision, love?” Aegon asked you, putting the letter with the others. “Marry our daring Daella to one of these lords or the unremarkable son of Jacaerys Velaryon?”

You looked out to the yard once more. Daella stomped her foot in frustration as her axe missed the target completely. A picture of Daella meeting Aeron and finding him insufferable came to mind. Your daughter got along well with most girls and boys she met, being sociable and charming to everyone. But, when she did not like someone, she made it very obvious. Sometimes too obvious. What if she met Aeron and disliked him? On the other hand, what if she didn’t? It’d be ideal for everyone involved. It is the most obvious choice. Everyone will say so. So, why were you so hesitant to say ‘yes’?

“I want her to be happy, Aegon,” you told him softly. “I want her to find love and happiness as we have. I don’t want her shackled to a man she isn’t at least fond of; having children out of duty instead of desire.”

“I am afraid, my dearest,” he took your hand gently in his, “That our union is incredibly rare in this family.”

“That’s not true,” you replied, finding comfort in his touch, “There is Aemond and Helaena as well.” 

“Alright, then somewhat rare.” 

“Mother, Mother!” 

A voice caught your attention from behind and you turned to see Saera appear. In a dress of cream and gold, she reminded you of princesses in fairytales. Her silver curls tied into a simple plait down her back, her violet eyes struck most people immediately. So much like her father’s, but he insisted she resembled you. Saera, eleven years old, came rushing up to your husband, and sitting in his lap. She beamed at you as she spoke. 

“I had my dress fitting for Baelon’s nameday,” she said. “Grandmother helped me pick out the colors for it.”

“Oh, was that today, love?” you asked her, slightly disappointed. You looked over your shoulder to see your mother walking in after her, in a gown of emerald green and black. Her signature Hightower color. “Mother, why did you not say anything?”

“You had more important matters at hand,” she answered, kissing the top of your head before taking up a wine cup. She spotted the letters on the table. “Any agreements?”

“They all accepted,” you told her. “There is one that has surprised me, however.”

“Oh? Who?”

You handed her the letter, “Baela Velaryon. She and Jace have a son Daella’s age.”

“Is Daella getting married?” asked Saera, who took up a bread with strawberry preserves on it.

“Not yet,” Aegon told her, playfully taking a bite of her bread to which she whined. “But, your sister is of age for betrothal and your mother has insisted we decide this very second who it will be.”

“It does not need to be ‘this very second’,” you replied. “I have received responses from Lords Lannister and Tully, as well as Lady Arryn. Any of their sons would make a suitable match for Daella, and their alliance could benefit our house. But then, I received Baela’s proposal.”

“And it gives you Pause.”

“It does.”

“Why, Mother?” asked Saera, smearing jam around her mouth as she finished her bread.

“It is complicated to explain, dove,” you told her kindly. “You’ll understand when you are older.”

“Saera, love,” Aegon said, lifting her from his lap, “Why don’t you go with Dyana to see your cousins, hm? I’m sure Jaehaera would love to see your doll collection.”

“Why can’t I stay?” she moped, getting off his lap but not leaving. “I want to know who Daella’s going to marry.”

“You’ll hear about it when we’ve made a decision, alright?” he promised, kissing her forehead. “Now, go. Dyana…”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Saera reluctantly left with the maid, and left the three of you alone. “Father will approve of the match highly,” you told her, returning to the conversation at hand, “And so will Rhaenyra. I bet anything this was all her doing.”

You thought about your elder half-sister. Rhaenyra was the daughter of Gemma Arryn, your father’s first wife. When she passed, King Viserys assumed he’d never remarry or have more children, so he named Rhaenyra heir to the throne. But then, he wedded your mother, Alicent Hightower. Any sensible king would’ve saved everyone the headache and named Aegon heir, but not your father. He valued Rhaenyra and her bastard sons more than any of his other children. He’d never do or say anything against her, no matter how severe the crime. You bitterly remember the night Aemond lost his eye in a fight with Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena. Your father should’ve demanded an eye for an eye or at least a serious punishment be dealt. But no. He told them to apologize and leave it at that. He’d never do anything to upset his precious Rhaenyra. It’d broken your heart when you visited your father’s sick bed, hoping to read to him, and in a medicated haze he’d called you ‘Rhaenyra’. When she had Jace, Luke and Joffrey, it became obvious they are not true Velaryons. They did not have the skin or hair of their father, Lord Laenor, but instead the coloring of Ser Harwin Strong. Commander of the City Watch.

This only soured the relationship between your families.

That resentment in you did not want your eldest daughter, your first born child, married to Rhaenyra’s grandson. Yet, the looming threat of Prince Daemon crossed your mind. If his grandson married your daughter, Rhaenyra will no doubt cherish any children they have.

“Princess Rhaenyra means well,” your mother said, taking Aegon’s seat when he offered it to her. “She will be our queen one day, whether we wish for it or not. I do not need to remind you that Prince Daemon-”

“-I know, Mother,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it out loud. “Rhaenyra…She is quite lovely to the children…”

“She adores them,” she agreed. She paused for a moment, “She put forward the coin for Saera’s and Daella’s nameday gowns.”

“What?” This caught both you and Aegon off guard.

“She has?” asked Aegon.

“She has,” she nodded. “She said princesses of the realm should always be dressed in fine splendor.” She looked between the both of you, then back to you, “YN, listen to me. Do not make the mistakes I have made when it comes to your children-”

“-Mother, you’ve never-”

“-I have,” she insisted. “Don’t pass down whatever grievances you have with Rhaenyra’s family to your children. They’re young. They should be playing and growing alongside their cousins, not being separated from them. A marriage between Aeron and Daella might work out for everyone.” When she saw you and Aegon unconvinced, she said, “Besides, it is tradition. The King will insist upon it should Rhaenyra bring it up.”

You wondered where this advice came from. During your girlhood, your mother constantly grumbled about ‘Rhaenyra’s sons’ and their baseborn features. It’d been her who often questioned their birth in private. Yet, since Rhaenyra’s return to King’s Landing, you noticed the pair becoming much closer these days. You’d spotted them walking in the gardens, sharing meals together, and working together to better the kingdom. You wondered what transpired to bring about this forgiveness and unity. Perhaps you can do the same. You gingerly accepted back Baela’s letter, and thought on it more. Baelon’s tenth nameday celebration would be in two weeks. You had plenty of time to think over your answer.

“Invite them all,” Aegon declared, picking at more cheese on the table.

“Invite who?”

“Lannister, Arryn, Tully, and Velaryon,” he said. “Daella can meet all their sons and see if she likes any of them.” Neither you or your mother said anything, he went on, “You said you wanted Daella to find love and happiness. She can only do that if she’s given multiple options instead of one. You’ve always been the romantic one out of us, and what is more romantic than finding love at a tourney?”

“Aegon…”

“YN, you know Daella. If we tell her to go left, she goes right. If we tell her the sky is blue, she’ll tell us it’s green,” he continued. “If we happen to invite all these suitors, she might take to one of them on her own.”

“She’ll suspect something.”

“She won’t if we all keep it to ourselves,” he responded with a smirk. You sometimes forget your husband’s cunning nature. 

“Aegon has a point,” your mother told you. “Invite them all and we will see if she takes to any of them.” 

You mulled it over in your mind, then nodded, “Yes. That seems the best route for this.”

“Ah! You fool, that hurt! Father!”

Vaelen’s contemptuous voice came from down below, and you saw your youngest sprawled on the ground at his brother’s feet.

“Well, get up and hit him, Vaelen,” Aegon called back.

“I’m tired!”

“Your opponent isn’t going to care,” he said. He grunted and put down his wine cup. “Time for me to intervene,” he looked over at you, “Write to them and personally invite them. Have the seamstress make her a special gown, and the jeweler can fashion a tiara for her. Something golden with rubies. Maybe sapphires or emeralds to stand out-”

“-I will see it is done, Husband,” you laughed, “Go see to your sons.”

He kissed you one more time before going down to the yard. Aegon lifted Vaelen to his feet, handing his sparring sword back to him, and spoke to Ser Criston. 

You spotted Daella standing with Aemond, who was helping her pick out a selection of knives instead of axes. Aegon was right. A strong-willed girl like Daella won’t accept a marriage pact because she’s told to do so. If you wanted her to have a happy marriage, she’d need to find it on her own.

“I know you don’t like to admit it,” your mother began, drinking from her wine cup, “But Aegon is right.”

“Mother, how did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Decide Aegon and I would be right for one another. At any point during our childhood, you could have decided to not marry us, but you did.”

Your mother stared at you for a moment, then she confessed. “I did not decide right away,” she told you. Seeing your raised eyebrows, she nodded, “Yes, that is a myth. I told your father I wanted to wait before announcing your betrothal. It’s a Valyrian tradition to wed brother to sister, so it made the most sense. But looking back on my own marriage and marriages of those around me, I was hesitant on my decision. I didn’t want my daughter to suffer a loveless marriage, never knowing true companionship or romance. I worried you might end the same way as I did with Aegon.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Aegon used to bawl his eyes out whenever we took you into another room. Your wet nurse would set you on the ground, and you’d immediately crawl over to him. As you grew, I saw how you behaved around one another. You enjoyed each other’s company over people at court. You spent nearly every waking moment together and refused to be apart for more than a few hours.” She smiled softly, looking out into the yard, “One day, I sat up here with your father while your brothers trained in the yard. You came out with Helaena, and you stood right there,” she nodded to an open spot that overlooked the yard, “And watched him. You didn’t say anything, or make yourself known to him. You simply watched him with this soft smile on your face, full of complete content.”

You nodded, vaguely remembering a day similar to that. “Then he noticed me there,” you finished for her. 

“And the smile that you both shared,” she grinned, “Made up my decision. You stared at one another, fondness and love in your eyes. He then said, ‘Princess, my opponent begs for mercy. I shall make it your decision to spare him or deny him.’”

“And then I said to show him no mercy,” you laughed, remembering a young Aegon, long-haired and skinny, standing where Baelon did now. 

“Aegon would do anything you asked of him,” she said. “Daella will find a similar love one day. Whether it be with one of the suitors or someone else entirely, she will have it.” 

“Mother, did you see that?!” Daella’s voice called from the yard, beaming at you excitedly. “I hit the center! Look!”

You saw the thin blade stuck halfway into the target, and smiled at her, “Wonderful, darling. You’ll be an expert with your uncle’s instruction.” 

She went back to her knife throwing, and you put aside any thought of arranged marriages and family feuds for the moment. You did have a nameday to plan, and invitations to send out. 

“What does Saera’s gown look like?” 

****

Knights, hedge knights, sellswords, and lords came from all over to attend Prince Baelon’s nameday tournament. You spent days planning feasts and gatherings that will happen throughout the week. Not only did each day have its own competition and accompanying feast, but the final celebration included performances by singers and mummers, magicians and animal performers, and several courses. You told the small council you’d spare no expense for your son’s tenth nameday. It would be a nameday to rival them all. 

Yet, while handling all these duties with your pregnant belly, the thought of Daella’s marriage proposals loomed over your head. Neither you or Aegon brought up the subject around her, but she seemed to suspect a plot nevertheless.

“Lord Tyland visited the training yard this morning. He complimented my knife throwing skills,” she said to you at dinner the night before the tourney, “He said he couldn’t wait for me to meet his nephew, Tymond.”

“Well, he is very fond of his nephew, Daella,” your husband said first. “He talks about him as if he is the boy’s father. Perhaps he is hoping you two will meet and get along.”

“I wonder why he might have that idea,” she looked pointedly at you, “Mother?”

“The Lannisters have always been an ambitious family,” you told her. “Lord Tyland most likely hopes you will meet his nephew and grow fond of him. You are a Princess, after all. The King’s granddaughter and Prince Aegon’s daughter. Maybe he hopes a Lannister-Targaryen marriage would bring his family great fortune. Do not think anything of it, love.” 

“Mother, I am fully aware that I have flowered now and am of marrying age,” she said to you. 

“What does ‘flowered’ mean?” asked Baelon, chewing on string beans. 

“It means she’s a woman,” said Vaelen. “I read it in a book.”

“Boys,” Aegon hushed them. “Yes, darling, you have flowered and are of marrying age, but your mother and I don’t plan to marry you for a long time. I recall telling you never to grow up so then you’d never marry and leave me, but,” he shrugged, drinking his wine, “Here we are.”

“You may have flowered, but you are still too young for marriage in my book,” you added. 

“Not too young to make arrangements for me, though,” she retorted, cutting into a slice of beef and eating it. “Whoever he is, I won’t marry him.”

“Whoever who is?”

“Whoever you’ve both chosen for me,” she said. “I won’t do it. I don’t want to get married.”

“You are a princess of the realm,” you responded, “Marriages not only help politically but also continue our bloodlines and names. It is your duty as a princess and a Targaryen to marry to protect and continue-”

“-I don’t want to,” she snapped. “I won’t go through with it. I don’t want to get married to some stupid lordling who can’t find his backside with both hands.” 

“No woman does,” you told her, “But as women of the realm-”

“-Surely there is more to being a ‘woman of the realm’ than marrying and having babies,” she remarked. “Why must we be stuck in this one role in life when there is so much more we can offer? Look at all women throughout history. Princess Visenya. Princess Rhaenya. Nymeria of Dorne. Look at Nana. Look at Aunt Rhaenyra. They’re both on the King’s council and have his ear. They’ve contributed more to the world than having babies.”

“Nana only became the queen because she married the king,” you said. “Rhaenyra may be the heir, but she married Ser Laenor and had children of her own. All the women you named married and had children to continue their legacy. How can you expect to continue a legacy without marriage or children of your own? Do you plan to live forever?”

“I won’t get married,” Daella repeated, having no real answer to your question. 

“You will,” Aegon said more firmly, “We all have our part to play in this world and yours will be to marry.”

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“Daella,” he groaned, “You are a princess. Some would say you’re born for this.”

“Was I now? I thought I was born because you and Mother wanted children; not because you must have them.”

“We did want to have you,” you implored her, “But it was also expected that we would. Daella, we’re not doing this to upset or hurt you. It is what every princess does: I did it. Helaena did it. Your sister will do it after you.”

“I don’t care who has done it before me,” she said, no longer focused on her meal. She stood up suddenly, “You can’t make me.”

“Daella…”

She spun around and left the hall. You leaned back in your chair, feeling dejected and defeated. Your eyes met Aegon’s. 

“Will I have to get married one day, Mother?” Saera asked you, pushing her vegetables around on her plate. 

“No,” Aegon said, “Because you vowed you’d never grow up and leave me. A Targaryen must keep to their word.” 

He tickled her side and the mood in the room lifted. Yet, Daella’s forceful words stuck with you. You knew she’d never take kindly to the idea of marriage. Your daughter is a free spirit, a bird that wishes to fly untethered to any solid thing. A part of you felt guilty tying that bird down, but it did not need to be so. Aegon’s warm hand taking up yours caught your attention. You met his eyes, and saw the softness in them. 

“I will speak with her,” he said, moving to stand. 

“No, no,” you shook your head, standing up before him. “I will speak to her. This is a woman’s conversation, Aegon.”

He conceded, nodding and returning to your other children. You bent to kiss him, then left the hall towards Daella’s bed chambers. Rays of moonlight still shone between the pillars coming from the open courtyard, a cool breeze coming in from the city. This did nothing to distract you from your worries. Daella seemed to believe marriage stood in the way of her future greatness. She needed to know that it is not so. As you reached her room, you heard the faint, melodic voice from behind the door. Singing. Daella’s light singing voice reached you and you smiled. With a gentle knock, you opened the door. 

“-I dream of fair maids of summer, with flowers in their hair-” you heard her sing quietly at her vanity, brushing a comb through her silver curls. 

“-I dream of maids of winter, with snow in the air,” you sang after her, walking into the room with a disarming grin. 

Her eyes found yours in the mirror, and her face soured. She stopped singing at once, pretending to be focused on her hair. You shut the door and approached her. Neither of you said anything as you took the brush from her, and began undoing her braids for her. Her curls went through your fingers like silk, shining in the faint candlelight glow. 

“A bard sang that song on my wedding day, you know,” you told her, starting to gently run the comb down her hair. “It’s where I first heard it. I loved it so much, I asked him to sing it a second time. I thought it was such a beautiful song-”

“-I don’t want to get married.”

“As you’ve stated previously,” you nodded. “If you do not wish to be married, love, then what do you want?” 

Daella did not speak right away. You saw the desire to speak plainly inside her, wishing to pour herself out to you. Though, the fear of being rejected or dismissed in favor of your own wishes disagreed with this. “You can tell me,” you assured her, looking at her in the mirror. 

“I want to travel, Mother,” she told you, imploringly. “I want to see the world; go across the Narrow Sea and see the Free Cities and meet different people, and see different cultures. I want to go about the realm on my dragon, seeing my grandfather’s kingdom and meeting his subjects. You and Father used to go into the city all the time-”

“-Yes, but we still married,” you interjected. “My love, you do not have to choose one life or the other. Being married…” you took a breath, pausing your brushing to think. You never imagined having this conversation. You merely accepted your cards when your mother dealt them. “Being married isn’t being tied down to one place. It is not a prison sentence. It’s having a companion. It’s having someone to share those dreams with. You can still have a full and rich life whilst having that other person. Look at your father and I, we betrothed and still saw wonders together.”

“The Street of Silk is not a worldly wonder, Mother,” she drawled. 

You tapped her shoulder sharply, “I meant the times that we went dragon riding together.”

“Where did you go?”

“Everywhere,” you answered. “We went as far as The Wall once. I told your father I wanted to see the world, and he promised me we would. Yes, we still visit our old stomping grounds from time to time, but that is nothing compared to our progress around the realm.” 

“You? You and Father went on a progress together?” she looked back at you in disbelief. 

“It’s originally been your grandmother’s idea,” you’d finished brushing her hair, but did not stop. You fondly remembered you and Aegon seeing the different castles and meeting the lords and ladies of the land. “Your father disliked the idea since courtly duties bore him to tears, but I told him it could be fun. We’d meet different people, and see new things. We went to The Wall to meet the Night’s Watch. We saw Winterfell and the big heart tree there. We went to the Maidenpool, and saw The God’s Eye from a distance. We visited The Twins. It was lovely. 

You finally stopped brushing and told her, “Being married does not mean you’ll be forced to stay in one place. You’ll have someone else to share those new experiences with and grow together from them. It’ll bring you closer to them.”

“I doubt it,” she scoffed. “You’ll marry me off to some insipid little lordling who will insist on keeping me locked in a castle, having his babies and running his household for him.”

“No,” you replied. “I planned on marrying you to a man of your choosing.”

This information caught your daughter off guard. “You did?”

“I did,” you nodded. “At first, I will admit I sent out propositions to certain lords and ladies who have sons your age, but I’d intended for you to pick at your own leisure. You are not as fortunate as other Targaryen women to have ready-made brother-husbands,” you lamented, “But I hope you may find happiness like I did with your father. As with songs, I cannot pick that for you. You must choose whether you like them or not. 

“Your brother’s nameday celebration will be a good chance to not only find a possible match, but perhaps make friends and allies outside of King’s Landing. Lord Beesburry has a granddaughter who also enjoys songs and dancing, and Lord Rosby has two who are fond of horses like you.” You put your hands on her shoulders, and said, “Do not worry about marriage for now, my love. Go to the tourney, seek out happy nights and enjoy your youth as I did.”

She smiled at you, the expression reminding you of your Aegon. “Thank you, Mother.”

You kissed her cheek and hugged her from behind, smelling the lavender in her hair. You left her to finish preparing for bed, and walked alone to your own chambers. Taking a seat at the vanity, you stared at yourself in the mirror while undoing your hair. You and Aegon took your progress right after your wedding. You’d never left home before, and you’d always wanted to see the world beyond King’s Landing. The promise of adventure and excitement encouraged you to take the leap into the unknown. Flying Moonfyre with his Sunfyre nearby, you felt like you could take on the world. 

“How is she?” Aegon walked into your chambers, finding you by the vanity. 

“Better than before,” you told him. “I explained to her that marriage isn’t the end of your life. You can still enjoy it while being with another person.”

He snorted, “Forgive me, my love, but I’m afraid not many lords would agree with you.”

You put down your brush and leaned on your elbows on the table. Head in your hands, you knew he was right. Adventure is not something lords think about unless they mean about themselves, while their wives stay home. “I suppose I can only pray then,” you decided, “That she finds what she wants.”

“It is the only thing we can pray for,” he said, coming up behind you and kissing your neck. “I sent the maids away for the night. Dyana and Myra are seeing the children to bed.”

You turned in your seat, smirking up at him, “Is that so? I wonder what reason you’d have to do such a thing. Myra needs to help me undress.”

His fingers ran up your back to the strings of your gown, “Undressing you should be my responsibility.” 

He cupped your chin to kiss you lightly, then gradually continued until your lips locked together. “And it’s the only responsibility you’ll readily agree to,” you teased, standing up and kissing him.

“That and the children.”

“And the children,” you agreed. 

Arms wrapping around you, you felt him deftly untying your dress, the cool night air brushing on the warm skin. You kissed him tenderly while undoing his belt, letting it fall to the ground. Unbuttoning the front of his jerkin, you slipped it from his shoulders to reveal the thin white undershirt. Aegon peeled off your gown down to your shift and bodice, which he undid with deft, swift fingers. That subtle heat you knew well started building in your lower stomach as he kissed down your neck to your collarbone; you felt up his arms to his shoulders, giving a light squeeze out of habit. 

Much like you, Aegon appeared to gain a few pounds himself, no longer the lanky boy he’d been in his youth. Not that you cared in the slightest. You ran your hands down his chest to his breeches, where you untucked his shirt and removed it. He pulled at your shift until you became bare in front of him; his hands pawed at your hips and backside while kissing you deeply. A soft moan filled your mouth as his tongue slid inside, you untied his breeches and tugged them down until they fell on their own. You reached down for his cock while he grabbed at your breasts, groaning softly at the hand wrapped around his shaft. Then, he started walking you backwards towards your bed.

Falling down onto the soft mattress, Aegon’s lust burned hotly. He left soft kisses along your throat to your breasts, which he grasped gently. You whimpered, feeling him take position above you, his semi-erect cock against your bare sex. His cock twitched in your hand in every stroke, and you felt him grow harder and harder. Aegon suckled your breasts, rolling his tongue around each one before giving a delicate suck. You whined at the tenderness just as much as the roughness. One hand still on your breast, the other slipped past your belly to your sex, which dampened at the anticipation of his touch. Two fingers started sliding up and down your slit, dancing over the folds while yours did so along his member. You moaned at the fingers dipping amongst them to your clitoris, where your pleasure spiked inside you. It throbbed against his fingers, a thing he noticed and responded with a roll around your clit. Aegon never failed to pleasure the most intimate parts of you; he knew exactly how to get the fires burning within you, stoking them like logs inside a hearth. He groaned against your skin, gradually bucking his hips into your hand. You repaid the act with tender squeezes from hilt to head, using beads of precum to slicken his length.

“It’s too bad you already have one in there,” he grunted, pecking across your breasts to flick his tongue over one of them. “I’d love to give you another right now.”

"It is a shame, truly," you replied in a laugh, free hand going up into his hair and tugging the wavy curls. This move brought him back to your lips, which immediately locked with yours. "I never say 'no' to you filling me; not since our wedding night, when you took me over and over again just to make sure it took root inside me."

"Well, everyone made such a big fuss over it," he smirked above you. "I thought I might as well be thorough."

He kissed you right as he slipped two fingers into your fluttering sex. You kept yourself spread out for him, grinding against his hand to get it deeper inside you. It reminded you of all the times you'd both scurried off together to dark corners of the castle, heat in your cheeks and hunger fueling your desires. You remembered your journey around Westeros following your wedding, and all the places you'd coupled throughout the kingdom. A majority of them started exactly like this. 

"Remember Maidenpool, love?" you asked, your thumb rubbing the underside of his tip. 

He smiled, "Do I? I recall it often." He kissed you, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before giving a tender tug. "When you pretended to be a maiden again, flustered and ready to be deflowered by me..." he stopped touching, and pushed your thighs further apart, kneeling up and away from you. Hands on your knees, he lifted them up slightly and said, "I don't believe I've fucked you as hard since then."

You then sneered at him, fingers trailing down his front to his cock again, "But, Your Grace," you pouted, "Shouldn't you be careful with me? I have never gotten this far with a man before."

Aegon let out a shaky moan, and plunged himself inside you suddenly. Your body took a moment to adjust, but as he started thrusting pleasure and desire bursted inside you. Grabbing your hips, Aegon kept you in place in each push. You could feel his exact length and girth stretching and filling you every time your bodies met. It became a sensation you enjoyed. 

"Your Grace," you whined, cupping your breasts to pinch your nipples, "Your Grace, please don't stop. Nobody's ever fucked me this way before. It feels so good."

He chuckled, violet eyes looking down at you in unfiltered lust, "Is that so? I find that hard to believe. A beauty like you has never had cock before?" he started pounding you faster, your breasts bouncing from the force and the sound adding to your grunts. "Not even an inch?"

"N-No, Your Grace," you replied. His tip started prodding your center, making you see stars as the orgasm slowly built inside. "No, never. Your cock's the only one I've-I've ever had." You started rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, keeping your breasts together with your arms so they continued bouncing. The light brush against your sensitive clit added to your pleasure. "Please, Your Grace, keep going. Don't stop. I want you to make me yours."

"Gladly."

He rolled you onto your front, face in the pillows, and entered you again. Aegon held onto your waist as you both met in the middle. The wet sound of his balls hitting your sex drive your passion further down. Just like in Maidenpool, and every time since, Aegon kept his strokes steady and deep. Hands reaching around to grasp your tits brought you up to a kneeling position, locking you close to him as he bottomed up into you. This new position made you see stars. Your sex tightened around him, your clit throbbed at his touch, and you didn't hold back your moans. The repeated, whispered phrase, 'Your Grace', amplified his arousal and you knew it considering his shaky breathing and low groans. 

Your orgasm came all at once, quaking your thighs and tightening your grip on Aegon's arms as he kept you firmly in place. It blinded you to everything around you; Aegon became the only real thing in the room. Normally, you kept your volume down to not disturb anyone, particularly your children, but not tonight. Not now. Not when Aegon's thick shaft and reddened tip brought you to the end of your climax. His own soon arrived, his cock slipping out with a wet pop, and hot streams spilling onto your inner thighs. Mouth pressed to your shoulder blade, you could feel the vibrations from his throat against you. You held him close until he'd finished, dick still twitching against your thighs. 

You both stayed in that position for several seconds, your warm bodies climbing down from the peak in every quivering breath. You collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. The pregnancy made everyday tasks tiring, and sex only worsened the fatigue. Aegon's arms snaked around your waist as he brought you close to his chest and kissed your shoulder. You thought of the sticky substance sliding around your thighs, knowing you should wipe it away but not having the strength in your arms to do so. So, therefore, your husband did it for you, however lazily his ministrations. 

"Daella will be fine," he said, tossing the cloth aside. "She is a smart girl. She would never choose an empty-headed boy or a brute. If she happens to pick the Velaryon boy, well…accidents happen all the time.”

“Aegon,” you kicked him lightly and he laughed. 

“I only jest, my love,” he assured you, kissing your neck. 

“But, if she were to pick Jace’s boy?”

“If he makes her happy and treats her well, then I suppose I shall live with it.”

You shook your head in a laugh, intertwining your fingers with his to bring to your chest. Tiredness nearly drowned out the worries turning in your mind. Your childrens’ happiness is all you’ve ever cared about. This should not be any different. Daella will pick the right choice, and you’d side with whatever decision she made.

***

A/N: wow, it's been a while since I've written anything hotd. If you can't tell, this is part of my dad!aegon universe lol I hope you enjoyed this and give it a little reblog or a like.

[c00kieguy]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓘 𝓶𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵

relationships: Argenti x GN!Reader summary: Reader is down bad for Argenti and the knight finds himself feeling flustered for the first time in his life. He recovers fast tho. cw: Just fluff, some comfort (sorta). Ending is a little bittersweet. (Reader has a bit of lore btw) (and a hat!) wc: 4,000 a/n: First hsr fic and of course i spent way too long on it. Anything for wifey... masterlist

Stepping into the tavern you’re greeted with bright lights, loud chatter, and the sound of multiple glasses clinking to an unknown rhythm. Your treacherous journey through the barren lands of this planet had left you in a state of fatigue for long enough, you were eager to finally find the time to relax. Never before did you imagine the sound of a bustling, overcrowded tavern would calm you, yet here you are. You lower the hem of your hat to cover your eyes and make your way to the counter, every step you take helping you forget the harsh environment outside. Standing at the counter you think for a while on what to get. One drink should suffice. You think to yourself. I shouldn’t stay here too long…

“I’ll have your strongest one.” The bartender eyes you in skepticism, wondering if you could afford such a thing. You retrieve a small gem from your breast pocket and roll it across the table, the bartender snatches it immediately and examines it. “Please?” Satisfied with your offer, they start preparing your drink. You place your hat under your arm and sit down on the rusty wooden stool, eyes following the bartender as they make your drink, but your mind wanders elsewhere. You had decided to come to this planet looking for something, or rather someone you’ve always wanted to meet, and yet with every planet you ventured to, you found yourself losing what little hope you had. 

Letting out a loud sigh you notice the completed drink in front of you. You give an appreciative nod towards the bartender then take your drink to a secluded table under a flight of stairs. Once seated, you lift the glass to your lips and take a long swig of the concoction. The watered down liquor slides down your throat, leaving behind an odd aftertaste, the feeling of which makes you queasy. For something that cost you a fifth of what you possessed it tasted awful. It was, however, still miles better than drinking polluted tap water. You shudder at the resurfaced memory…

“Hello, do you mind if I sit here?” A stranger's voice breaks you away from your thoughts. Can’t even wallow in my own misery anymore, for Aeon’s sake. Lifting your head you look at the source of your disturbance, ready to strike with harsh words at being interrupted, but your words die in your mouth at the sight in front of you.

Beautiful.

That’s the only word that occupies your mind as you stare dumbfounded at the man opposing you. You were never one to believe in love at first sight, but what is one supposed to do when meeting an angel but fall in love?

Under the soft glow of the tavern light, his hair shone a stunning bright red. Long locks flowed along his back that ended in soft curls right above his waist. You briefly wondered what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. And his eyes, more beautiful than any you have ever seen. They sparkled like emeralds with small hints of red amidst his perfectly sculpted face. When did I get so poetic?

“There seem to be no other vacant spots here.” He gestures to all the other tables surrounded by the other patrons with a sheepish smile. It was so crowded here there were people sitting on the tables and some even occupied the floor. The fact that you managed to find a seat at all seemed like a miracle. “May I?” His voice snaps you out of your stupor.

“Uuuh, yea…yes.” You cough and quickly attempt to regain your composure. “Go right ahead, Mr…?” You move your hat to the side to make room for his own drink.

“Argenti, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He does an elegant little bow to show gratitude. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be so perfect in every way. This man, despite having only met you mere seconds ago, already has your poor heart in a chokehold. Your previous worries have long since been forgotten as you stare at him in awe and wonder.

“What a beautiful name, Argenti.” You try your best to subtly adjust your appearance and look the best you can. Though you had an inkling the rotting wooden walls around you weren't exactly doing you much justice. Even so, something about your unkempt appearance and near zero charisma must’ve caught his attention. Argenti’s eyes widened a little at being called beautiful. Usually he’s the one shelling out compliments, but to be on the receiving end of them? He’s a little shocked but his expression immediately softens into a smile.

“Thank you. And what might be your name?”

“Just…[y/n] is fine.” You were a little hesitant to share your name with strangers. In a universe so vast and terrifying, you never knew what nefarious acts they could use it for. However, Argenti had been kind enough to share his so you did the same.

“[y/n] hm? What a fitting name.” He muses. 

The next few minutes are silent, or as silent as the tavern would allow it. The two of you took occasional sips of your respective drinks and sigh into your cups. Sometimes you’d find yourself scanning Argenti’s face while he wasn’t looking, you swore you could stare at him all day long and some. Staring at him you notice a few other things about his appearance, especially his clothes. Clad in full armor he looks exactly like a knight, the silver gold and red complimented his looks quite well. The guy looked like he had stepped right out of a romance novel.

Ever so often your eyes would meet and you would both immediately look away. Realizing the atmosphere was getting a little awkward you decide to shoot your shot. Better late than never, at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“So,” You lean against the wall in as alluring a pose as you could muster. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing around these parts?” You swore you could hear wires short circuit in his head at the comment. How cute. It was truly entertaining seeing Argenti realize that you weren’t just being nice, but rather just outright hitting on him now.

“I-I, I’m p-part of. No, I. I belo-” Adorable. You couldn’t help but think so as he stumbled over his own words, eyes darting around, trying to look at anything but you. He pauses to take a deep breath to compose himself then looks right into your eyes and says “I belong to the Knights of Beauty.” as if to challenge you in some way. Oh you definitely weren’t going to back down now.

“Knights of Beauty huh?” You eye him up and down with an impressed look and make it really obvious you’re doing so. “Fitting name.” You watch in amusement at his wide eyed look as his cheeks become visibly more pink. By Aeons, what a sight. You wish you could snap a picture right now and stare at it whenever you feel down, but you scrap the idea for now. 

“It’s…T-that’s not…” Instinctively he covers his face with an iron clad hand. “The reason we are called such…is because we are duty bound to spread the grace of our Goddess, and uphold the honor of Beauty in the universe.” His voice steadied with each word. 

“Are they not…dead?” You ask in an uncertain tone. Last you heard, the Aeon has disappeared just as they had come. Argenti looks to be offended at your reply

“I do not believe so. Idrila The Beauty may not be with us right now, but that is precisely why I must persist in my search.” He gets a determined look on his face. “I will find them, even if I must scour the entire universe to do so. I am duty bound to traverse the path of a solitary rose and I will follow through till the very end.” Oh? This man, you feel guilty to have reduced him to just a pretty face in your mind. From what you heard of the Knights, they all traveled alone to attend to their specific duties. Argenti’s conviction and unwavering resolve were truly admirable. Having traveled alone for several months in your search, you can’t imagine how anyone would willingly put themselves in such a situation.

“Duty bound….” You look to the ceiling in a daze. “Knowing exactly what your purpose is. Must be nice.” You chuckle. What was I thinking? Compared to him, you were nothing but an indecisive outlander. Your leisurely approach to your goals now sounded even more pathetic. The knight looks a little puzzled at your reaching, but also a little worried.

“If I may ask, what has brought you here?” His expression has softened considerably, instead he now looks at you with a curious gaze. Since Argenti was kind enough to share his goals you felt no need to hide yours.

“I’m looking for someone too” You take a tentative sip of your drink, somehow it has developed a bitter taste to it, mirroring your sentiment. “...La Mancha.” The name seems familiar to Argenti. He takes a few seconds to search his brain before recognising it. The infamous leader of the galaxy rangers. The same person that one of the Xianzhou ships was still attempting to contact with no success.

“You’re a galaxy ranger?” He asks tentatively.

“What do you think?” You are with a smirk. He seems to take that as confirmation on your part. You sigh, The mood’s ruined. You came here to forget about your life for a while and yet here you were, talking about the exact thing with a stranger. A really pretty stranger at that too… “I’m going back…home, after here though.” Home…you dread the thought of returning a failure, especially after so long.

“Is something the matter? You seem wary of this home of yours.” He waits for your reply but you simply look away in self-contempt. Should I say something? Or would I be crossing a line? As this was the first time in several months you had the opportunity to talk to someone in a peaceful setting, you felt the want to share, but you didn’t want to overshare either. Ah screw it. Who knows when you’ll meet a sapient creature next, you might as well talk to someone while you still could. 

“Home’s…fine. Just been away for so long, it’s gonna be really awkward if I return empty handed.” You finish off the last of your drink in one large gulp, in much the same way one would take medicine. “It’s not exactly easy looking for someone who you don’t even know the face of. Oh…” Argenti chuckles at that.

“The ease of it matters not to me.” He says with an earnest smile. “No matter the difficulty, no matter the enemies I face, I will prevail, I must, and I believe you can too.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on top of yours. Oh. You feel blood slowly creep up your face at the sudden contact. “When you have a strong enough desire, will you not go to the ends of the universe to fulfill it?” His bright emerald eyes bore straight into your own, determination giving them a gem-like polished look. A strong enough desire… You scrunch your brows thinking about that line. Is this what I really want? What I desire? Finding the head of the rangers had been your top priority for so long you wondered if there was something else you desired more.

Argenti…You imagined for a split second what it would be like to travel with him, going from planet to planet, together. Facing all threats as one and always having each other's backs. Despite having just met, you found yourself wanting to spend more time with him. It was certainly a significantly better alternative to traveling alone. The thought of it sure was serene, and yet you knew such a future would be detrimental to the both of you. It would be unfair to Argenti, especially since his duty requires him to travel alone. What makes you think he’d accept in the first place? You ask your delusional self.

Before you could answer however, there’s a large commotion near the entrance. Giving each other an understanding nod both of you rush to the scene. It seemed a huge fight had broken out right by the door to the tavern.

The scene itself looks really violent, with bodies being thrown onto tables, glasses shattering as they fall to the ground, covering the floor in a deadly layer of shards that many innocent patrons fall victim to. Argenti rushes to the middle of the crowd, your calls of telling him to wait falling on deaf ears. The knight doesn’t hesitate to jump right into the fight and attempts to separate everyone involved. Unfortunately, his presence appears to have agitated them even more. 

A few of the people involved turn to Argenti, pushing him around and into the crowd. If they were enemies he would have no trouble defeating them in seconds, but seeing as these were people, he didn’t want to harm them. Yet with every second that passes he wonders if he should just take his chances with using his spear. Poor guy looked like he was about to lose it so you try to help him out a little. 

Pushing through the packed crowd you manage to make it somewhat close to the whole fiasco. In one swift wave of your hand you place a small debuff on the crowd, making sure to not hit Argenti as well. All of a sudden everyone looked like they were going at x0.5 speed. It only takes a split second of eye contact for him to under this as your doing, then before you could blink he has his spear out and cleans up the mess. You find it fascinating how quick he works, each careful strike of his spear ensures not to injure anyone too severely but also making sure they’re unable to get back up again.

It takes a while but the scene clears up soon. The flock of onlookers slowly dissipate as the staff in the tavern start to clean up the residue from the fight. You watch Argenti give the troublemakers a speech about unprofessional behavior and recklessness and you can’t help but laugh to yourself. What a goody two shoes. 

A few more minutes pass before he’s done with the lecture and you wave him over to your side. On his way Argenti spots your hat on the floor. Instinctively you touch your head and notice the absence of it, it must have been knocked down during the previous commotion and you failed to take note of it. The knight picks it up for you and dusts it off, luckily the damage it sustained during the fight didn’t look permanent.

“I was under the assumption that all galaxy rangers followed the path of Lan.” As Argenti walks closer to you you outstretch your hand to take your hat from him, but he completely ignores it. Instead he lifts it and gently places your hat back on your head and even adjusts it for you. His actions have you feeling a little flustered, after all he was so close to you that you could almost - “Was I mistaken?” His voice snaps you out of your little daydream and you let out a chuckle.

“I never said I was a galaxy ranger.” Flashing him a coy smile you pull the hem of your hat down to cover your face, partly in embarrassment and partly in…well it was fully due to embarrassment actually. 

Suddenly you feel his hand on yours and you fight against your instinct to pull away. You felt a little too vulnerable, as though you may have revealed a bit too much to the knight today. Fortunately it seemed he was not interested in knowing more of you. Argenti moves your hand out of the way instead and readjusts your hat to give himself a better view of your face. “You shouldn’t try to hide your face.” He says with a faint tint of pink on his cheeks “It suits you far better this way.” He gives you an endearing look that makes your heart flutter. 

“Oh? Like the view?” You quipped, secretly glad that your advances seem to have worked (somehow). Argenti doesn't respond immediately, he takes his time just staring at you instead. Despite having been flustered multiple times due to your flirtatious comments before, this time he leans in closer. Your faces are so close you could feel his breath on you. If you thought Argenti looked good from across the table, he looked even more stunning up close. Instinctively you close your eyes and lean forward, waiting for the inevitable ki-

“Very” He whispers with a hint of mischief in his tone. You don’t even have the chance to react before he pulls back, clearly amused at your discomposure. He’s gonna be the death of me…

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty boy…” He just shakes his head with a breathy laugh. Cute. The exchange between you two felt so natural, almost as if you’d been friends forever. You couldn’t put into words just how much you wished to spend the rest of your life in this moment, just the two of you sharing playful banter between each other in a run down tavern. Not many things you could name come close to this feeling. 

Time passes way too fast for your liking. You two had returned to your seats and spent the rest of your time simply chatting and sharing stories of your own adventures prior to your meeting, embarrassingly enough he had traveled to more than twice as many planets as you, as if you needed even more reason to bring your mood down. Before you knew it it was already time for you to depart. Some of the employees at the tavern work tirelessly to get it cleaned while the others struggle to chase out unwanted guests. Argenti takes this as the cue to leave.

“Shall we? I assume we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” He offers you his hand. Such a chivalrous gesture only aided in making you fall in love even more. How can someone be so perfect? You find yourself thinking for the nth time as you take his hand to pull yourself up.

“I’m guessing we have to part ways now.” You say, reluctantly letting go of his hand. “And just as I was starting to enjoy myself.” He too solemnly nods and turns around to leave the tavern with you following suit. 

Stepping out onto the seemingly deserted planet you feel dread slowly crawl back inside you. Letting out an involuntary sigh you mentally prepare yourself for the journey ahead. Once outside, Argenti turns to you and places a hand over his chest.

“Thank you for keeping me company. Please, do greet your family on my behalf.” 

“I’m…not going back just yet.” He tilts his head to the side questioningly. “Finding ‘em may not be my greatest desire, but it’s a desire nonetheless.” You continue. Having conversed with the knight you managed to gain back a bit of your motivation. “And I’ll fulfill it no matter what, even if I have to half-ass it.”

After having helped Argenti with the brawl that had broken out, you felt…alive. Like this was your purpose. You managed to rediscover your craving for a good adventure. Sure, the past few months had been bland, but now? You had just a bit more hope to carry with you. You admit that part of you simply wanted to go on just so you had the chance to meet Argenti again, but the other part really hoped to find La Mancha too.

“I truly admire your dedication.” He says with a hearty laugh as he takes out a rose from somewhere behind him (you could’ve sworn he had no pockets there) and offers it to you. “Please, have this as a token of my gratitude. I cannot imagine I would have enjoyed my stay here as much if it wasn’t for you after all.” You reach out to take the flower in your own hand. Beautiful. 

“Well.” You hold the rose up next to his face, it really did resemble its giver. “I admire you.” You say with a wink. Argenti rolls his eyes playfully, clearly amused at your continuous effort at flirting with him. You simply shrug and place the flower in your hat for safe keeping. Hopefully you could find a good water source at your next destination, you’d hate to see such a beautiful gift go to waste.

“Argenti?” He hums in question at the sudden call. “What if we…never see each other again?” Your heart sank at the thought that plagued you like a living nightmare. Just as you had met someone as amazing as him, you had to let go too? Already? It seemed incredibly unfair to you. 

“You need not worry, I’m certain we will reunite.” The knight says with an air of confidence around him, but even his reassuring words were not enough to put you at ease.

“How?” Your eyebrows knit in frustration. “You never know what might happen…” The uncertainty of it all terrified you. If something were to happen to him you’d be none the wiser, forever left longing for someone who cannot return to you. Argenti’s expression softens at seeing you in such a state. He hated the thought of traveling without you, yet deep in his heart he also knew you two would be better off separate.

“When life is uncertain, and fate unchanging, our faith remains our only solace.” He gently takes both of your hands in his. “I have faith in you, in us. We will reunite.”

“When you have a strong enough desire, will you not go to the ends of the universe to fulfill it?” You repeat his words. The more you think about it the more your resolve strengthens. There was no point in giving up now, you can still keep going. Eventually, you’re bound to run into him, then maybe it won’t all feel like a waste. What’s there to lose?

“So, do I get a parting kiss or…?” 

“No, not yet.” Argenti laughs. “Perhaps when we meet again.” He gets close to you, close enough that your foreheads touch. Warm. “When that time comes, I shall place as many kisses upon your face as you desire.” His soothing voice calms you. You let your eyes close and so does he as the both of you lean into each other. The silence drags on as you two stay as is, simply bathing in each other’s presence, wishing, hoping, to meet again. Just for the moment though, you let yourself just enjoy standing here, side by side with someone who had become so important to you in just a few hours.

“You better not forget me.” Your voice cracks a little at your plea. Please.

“And I you.” He gives you an endearing look as he reluctantly pulls away, but that’s all it took for loneliness to start creeping into your chest. You desperately hold onto him for as long as possible as your hands slowly slip away from his. Just a bit longer. Your heart screams at you Just a bit longer, not wanting to leave yet. 

Alas, all good things must come to an end. However, the end of your story was not a definitive one. For as long as you two traversed the stars, for as long as you kept going, for as long as you persevered, your efforts were sure to be rewarded. “I have faith in you, In us” His voice echoes in your head. 

“I bid you farewell, my…friend.” He emphasizes the word ‘friend’ with a soft smile.

“Let us meet when our paths converge once more.”

“Until then,

.

.

.

I wish you the best of luck.”

masterlist

© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⋆ life with your future spouse

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

my dear group one ♡ your life with your future spouse will be filled with fun. your future spouse comes across as the cool dad/mom. they’re the person in the friend group who is not afraid to make a fool of themselves. they do not care about their image or about looking cool -- which, of course, makes them the coolest person in every room they’re in. they’re authentic. they’re fun. and so your life with your future spouse is as fun and as authentic.

i'm hearing the words “remix on an old classic” so your life together will shun convention. you may be together for years before you get married. you both may quit your jobs to go travelling or live in a commune. you may have an open marriage. whatever it is, your life together is nothing like your peers, your married friends lives, your parents lives… it’s so unique to you two that many people may not understand it at all.

people may look at your marriage, and the life you and your future spouse live together, with raised eyebrows. questioning how either of you could even be happy -- when that is exactly what you and your future spouse are. happy. unbothered. in love with each other, unconditionally.

GROUP TWO

my dear group two ♡ your life with your future spouse is filled with luxury. you and your future spouse may be entrepreneurs and huge go-getters. you both know what it’s like to live a life of difficulty, or hardship, of financial insecurity and/or outright poverty, and you’ve both worked hard to be not just financially free but financially abundant. 

you and your future spouse may not just be a married couple, but also business partners. as a result, many aspects of your life together will concern how to build your wealth and empire and solidify your legacy. every decision you make will be made together, making sure to keep in mind how it will affect your image and your business partnership.

this sounds loveless but it will be anything but. your life will revolve around business and wealth, but it will be something that you both benefit from. it will be the focus of your life because of how much better it makes your life, in union; how much better it makes your children’s lives, your parents lives, yoru descendents lives. it will be the focus of your life because, now that you’ve tasted abundance and stability and security, neither of you can imagine ever going back to a life of lack. back to a life of struggle. 

with this wealth, your future spouse will spoil you, giving you anything you could ever ask for and ever want. and you will do the same for them.

GROUP THREE

my dear group three ♡ your life with your future spouse may be strained. you may marry your future spouse out of obligation, because of a prior arrangement, or because they seem good enough to settle with. your married life will be fairly average and you may find yourself becoming one of those people who says things like, “no one finds their true love anyway. true love is a fantasy, just find someone who is stable and good to you.” 

your marriage may be enviable to the people around you, because you both seem so normal and well-adjusted. you have this white picket fence life. you have stable jobs, you have children who make you proud, you have family vacations and family day trips and family albums filled with beautiful pictures. but… you may feel like your life is just so… empty…

as if you’re living a meaningless life. as if you’re stuck in a meaningless marriage. you may get married at a young age only to, after a few years, find yourself looking for excitement elsewhere. outside of this marriage. eventually, ending this marriage and choosing to live your life for yourself -- regardless of your age. 

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Eyes of a Stranger- E.M.

Did anyone ask for a Soulmate!AU? No! Did it bring me joy to write? Of course! Here you go my thirsty friends! Love you!

You move across the country to start looking for your Soulmate. Enter: Eddie Munson.

Masterlist

TW- Cursing, drinking, super fluffy fluff at the end

Pairings- Soulmate!Eddie x Reader

Word Count- 4,891

There’s a gap in your vision. There has been since you were born. It’s one of the facts of life. Everyone is born without their full color spectrum. There’s some chemical imbalance that prohibits it before the right time, and you hate it. You always have. Everyone talks about how beautiful brunettes are, or how delicious chocolate looks melting in a fondue pot, or bread, or even your childhood dog, but you can’t see it, and no matter how hard everyone tries to describe it to you, it never makes any sense when you look and see shades of grey. 

Your parents told you the stories of how they met, how their vision suddenly became full technicolor the moment they locked eyes on each other. How the colors finally swirled into place, completing the puzzle they’d spent their whole lives wondering about. It was one of your favorite bedtime stories, and you remember begging to hear it over and over again until their comforting voices lulled you to sleep.  

They were some of the fortunate ones. It’s not entirely uncommon for people to go their full lives without finding their soulmates. The world is wide, after all, but people can find love elsewhere, even if it’s not with the person they were meant on a cellular level to be with.  

As you grew, you found some small comfort in that fact, allowing yourself to explore the world past the missing warmth of brown that people describe. You let yourself have romantic partners no matter the color of their eyes, explored the nuances of casual and more serious relationships. How could you ever miss something that was never there, anyway? Of course, underneath that lies the crippling fear that you wouldn’t be one of the lucky ones. Sure, there are stories of people finding soulmates even in their last few years of life, but it doesn’t bring you any ease to think that there is someone out there, waiting for you, and the more time you spend apart is one less moment you’ll spend together.  

So, as you near your 23rd birthday, you decide to leave your hometown. You’ve spent your whole life intentionally meeting the eyes of nearly everyone you’ve come across, hoping to find the person that will make you whole, to no avail. It’s time you find new eyes to search.  

There are so many places, so many people that the only way you could ever decide on where to go is to not decide at all. You taped a map to the wall and threw a dart. First, it landed in America, then, on the American map, it landed in Indiana, and on the map of Indiana, it landed on a little town called Hawkins. “It’s as good a place to start as any,” You mumble, taking the dart out of the wall. The goodbyes to your family and friends are hard and tearful, but they know just as well as you how important this is. A couple of your friends had already found their soulmates, and every time you saw them together, your heart ached for their happiness.  

The journey to Hawkins is hard and long, moving all your belongings, finding an apartment with a rental agreement for just six months—if you don’t find your soulmate there, you’d move on to the next place—and a job that could support you while also giving you the opportunity to see a lot of people in a day. But you did it, and a few days after leaving home, you’re settling into your new apartment in the heart of Hawkins Proper. 

It’s small, and the plumbing creaks when you flush the toilet or turn on the shower, but it’s yours for the time being, and that’s enough for you. You arrange your sparce furniture the best you can to make it feel homey, and figure if things go well, you can always get more. The job you found is nice, and the people you work with are kind and funny, and soon you’ve made a little home for yourself in this strange, new place. 

“Y/N!” Your coworker, Steve shouts from across the Family Video. You look up from the shelf of movies you’re stocking over to where he stands behind the counter, his arms laying on the surface, shaggy bangs falling into his face as it always does when he doesn’t put a whole bottle of Farah Fawcett hairspray in it. 

“What’s up?” You call back, glancing between him and the movies as you put the cassette tapes back in their proper spaces. 

“I’m going on my lunch. You want something from the Dairy Queen?” You ponder his question for a moment, your mouth quirking as you think. 

“Yeah, can you get me an Oreo blizzard? And a chicken strip basket? I have cash in my purse,” You raise your eyebrows at him, and he gives a solemn nod. 

“I got you. I’ll be back in ten.” Steve turns and starts toward the back exit, and you go back to your work stocking the tapes, emptying the basket of returns as you meander from shelf to shelf finding the proper places. 

You hear the doorbell ring, and you raise your head, looking toward the door to the customer coming in. “Welcome to Family Video!” You greet. The man walking toward the horror shelves, and he looks over his shoulder in your direction and gives a nod. His eyes are obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses, which always irks you only because you won’t have the opportunity to look into his eyes.  

You walk back toward the counter to prepare to check the man out when he’s finished his selection when he looks back over to you. His dark, shaggy curls flop over part of his face as he calls out to you. “Do you guys have Pet Semetary in yet?”  

“Uhh, let me check,” You go over to the computer and type in the title. When the page loads, you let out a noise of recognition as you look back over to the man. “Yes, we do. But it’s still in the New Releases. Let me go find it for you,” You make your way around the counter to walk over to the New Releases wall, scanning the titles with your eyes, hands on your hips until you spot it. You bend over to pick it up and bring it back over to the counter, where the man is waiting for you to return. 

“Thanks,” he says, giving a small smile. He looks to be about your age. The hands he has rested on the surface of the counter are littered in heavy silver rings, and he’s clad in a faded, moth-eaten Iron Maiden shirt with an acid wash jean vest over it. There’s a small hoop in one of his nostrils, which glints lightly under the fluorescent lights hanging above you. The mostly black curls that hang around his face are highlighted grey where the light hits, so you assume it must be brown. He’s handsome, for sure. His relaxed features give him a refreshing air about him, like you know he’d be an easy friend to have.  

“No problem. Will this be all for you today?” You ask, your customer service voice lilting in the air. He pouts his lips for a moment, looking down at the candy selection below the counter before picking up a king size Reese’s and placing it and sliding it toward you.  

“This too, please,” he says, his pretty smile returning to his boyish features. 

“Sure,” You scan the candy and place it in a plastic bag with the movie. “Can I get your name please?” You ask, moving over to the computer to pull up his profile. 

“Oh, hey Munson. What’s up, man?” Steve comes from behind you, having returned from his break, and you look over your shoulder to his award-winning smile as he offers a hand to the man to clasp. 

“Harrington,” he says in greeting, a breathtaking toothy smile curling at his lips as he takes Steve’s hand in a light slap. “You know, just hanging out,” He shrugs. “What about you?” 

“Oh, you know, I’m just... here,” Steve lets out a small laugh. You watch the interaction, waiting for the two men to finish to complete the transaction. Steve looks over to you and gestures in your direction. “This is Y/N, she’s new in town. Maybe she should come out with us next time we go out to the bar. She needs more friends,” Steve jokes, and you hit him lightly in the shoulder, scoffing. 

“Oh, shut up, Steve. It’s not like I’m a loner. I’ve got you and Rob,” You justify. 

“Yeah, only me and Rob. There’s a whole wide Hawkins out there still to discover, Y/N,” You roll your eyes and shrug off the arm he’s casually rested over your shoulders at that and settle your gaze back on Steve’s friend, who holds a hand out for you to shake. 

“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” You take his hand and shake it briefly, a friendly smile forming on your lips. 

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Y/N L/N,” He gives a quirk of a smile as your hands leave each other. Steve tuns to you, his hand on your shoulder as you look away from Eddie’s face to listen to him. 

“Well, I put your lunch in the break room, if you wanna go ahead and eat. I can finish taking care of Eddie if you want,” You give a nod, moving out of the way for Steve to take over the computer. You give one more small wave to Eddie. 

“It was nice to meet you!” You say. 

“Yeah, you too,” he says. “And you’re definitely welcome to come hang out with us sometime. We usually go chill at the Hideout at least once a week so, you know, you can get the details from Stevie, here,” You can see him quirk a playful eyebrow over his dark sunglasses as he reaches over to clap Steve on the shoulder. A chuckle passes your lips at the nickname, but even more at Steve’s dry reaction to it. 

“Okay, thanks,” You turn to Steve. “I’ll be back in 30 Stevie,” You give Steve a playful bump of your hip before turning and walking toward the back. 

“Yeah, ha ha, whatever, dude,” He scoffs, feigning annoyance. You give another laugh as you push the door open, the smell of your lunch wafting through the otherwise stale air of the back. 

The end of the day nears, and you and Steve are cleaning up the store preparing to close when he mentions Eddie again. “So, I think we’re gonna go out Friday night if you wanna come with us. It’ll be chill. Just some drinks, maybe some pool. Then we usually go to Benny’s after for some burgers. You in?” You shrug, pushing the dust mop across the floor. 

“Yeah, sure. Not like I’ve got anything better to do,” Your eyebrow quirks in thought then as the silence comes back over the store. “Can I ask you something?” 

Steve looks up from where he’s wiping down the counters. “Sure, what’s up?” 

“Has Eddie... has he found his soulmate?” You try to say it casually, but Steve lets out a taunting sound, his elbows going to rest on the surface of the counter as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Ahh, you like him?” His sugary tone makes a heat break out on your face, and you roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. 

“Not necessarily,” You try to defend yourself. “I just don’t like it when people come in with sunglasses. It’s a pet peeve, I guess. I just don’t like the not knowing part,” You hear Steve scoff from across the store as you reach the far wall with the dustmop, turning around and starting back the other way. 

“Well, no, he hasn’t found his yet. What color are you missing?” He inquires.  

“Brown,”  

“Oh really? Eddie’s eyes are brown.” Steve muses. You scoff at that. You may find Eddie attractive, but what are the freaking odds that the first place you’d moved to would be the home of the one person on the planet you’ve been waiting for your whole life? 

“Come on, Steve. There are 7 billion people on this planet. What are the chances, really? I was just curious,” 

“It happens every day! Everyone’s got someone out there, Y/N. Why couldn’t it be Eddie? Hell, why couldn’t it be me? Or Robin? Or Keith? Just because the chances are slim doesn’t mean they’re zero,” It’s almost like he’s reminding himself of that, too. You’re not the only one that struggles with not having their soulmate. Steve is nothing if not a romantic, you’ve learned. You’ve caught him more than once smiling at the store TV on a slow day, with what as well should be heart eyes while watching some sappy romance movie. You can only imagine that he’s wishing that it were him with his soulmate. You definitely do, from time to time. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But that doesn’t change the fact that the chances are incredibly slim. Like, one in 7 billion slim.” You wouldn’t mind if it were Eddie. You wouldn’t mind if it were anybody. Maybe it’s your quarter life crisis talking, but you’d throw yourself into the arms of anybody who made you see brown. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

You used to imagine what your soulmate looked like as a kid. It was actually a school assignment once, in first grade or so. An art project. You remember your parents had it hung on the fridge for a long time, sloppy first grader scribbles with big grey circles for eyes and pink hearts littered around the piece of paper.  

Friday is busy. People like to rent movies in preparation for the weekend. All day it’s person after person as you, Robin, and Steve rotate around the store putting movies away, stocking candy and popcorn, and checking customers out at the register. You’re over near the 18+ section putting away the Z movies when you hear Eddie’s voice over the din of people milling around the store. “Hey, guys. We still on for tonight?” You glance over at Eddie, who’s in a black and white t-shirt that looks just a tad too small—a blessing for you as the sleeves hug his generous biceps, black ink peeking out from beneath— and torn jeans today. There’s a chain hanging from his belt loop and as your eyes look to his face, you see he’s not wearing sunglasses today. Maybe you’ll be able to look and finally put your nagging thoughts to rest. 

“Excuse me miss, can you help me?” You turn to look at the middle-aged lady who’s gently tapped your shoulder, taking in her blue eyes as you stand to talk to her. Like Steve said the other night, there’s a chance your soulmate could be anyone. 

“Of course, what can I do for you?” You keep your attention on her but flick your eyes toward the counter, where you see Eddie still talking to Robin. Just a peek. Just one, and you can stop thinking about it. The lady’s voice pulls your eyes away at the request for the location of a movie, and you dutifully show her the way, taking glances where you can, only to see the shaggy mop of curls obscuring a proper view of Eddie’s face, which you know has that pretty smile as he laughs at a dumb joke Robin threw his way. When you reach the right shelves, you have to bend down to get the movie she’s looking for, and you hand it to her quickly. As you turn back to where Eddie and Robin were standing, talking, laughing, just a moment ago, you find the spot empty. Damn it. I’ll see him later, you think, shrugging it off as you make your way back to the basket of movies waiting to be put away at the back of the store. 

The last dregs of the day give you a bit more energy as the store gets increasingly quieter as less and less people come in in the final hour of open time. There’s more laughter among the three of you, joking and talking about your plans for tonight.  

“So, do you want us to pick you up?” Steve asks, looking to you as you sort through new returns.  

“Yeah, that would be great!” You give him a smile. “Can you pick me up at about 10:30? We’re meeting Eddie at 11, right?” 

Steve nods, tying up a trash bag to take out to the dumpster. “Yeah, that’s cool,” He says. 

“Oh, and you don’t need to wear anything super fancy or whatever. It’s a pretty seedy dive bar, we’re going to, so jeans is fine,” Robin adds. You nod appreciatively at the advice and take a moment to write down your address on a stray post-it to hand to Steve. 

“Here you go, and my phone number is on there too, just in case you need it,” Steve takes it, looks at it for a moment, and then stuffs it into his pocket for later. 

“Awesome. Well, if you want to go ahead and clock out, Robin and I can finish up here. We’ve just gotta finish counting the drawer and take the trash out.”  

“Thanks! I guess I’ll see you in a bit, then,” You wave to both of them and make your exit to the back of the store to where your car is parked and drive home to your apartment. You decide to take a quick shower to strip the layer of grime accumulated from your work day from your body, letting the warm water carry away the stress down the drain. After that, you dry your hair roughly with your blow dryer before making your way to your tiny bedroom closet to look for something to wear.  

You know Robin said not to wear anything fancy, but you do want to look nice. There’s a 1 in 7 billion chance that Eddie is your soulmate, but even if he isn’t, it would be nice to have someone as good looking as him flirt with you for the night. You decide on a hand me down pair of bellbottoms from your mom that makes your butt look incredible and a simple black halter top. You pair it with a nice long necklace that trails down your cleavage, just to give a path for Eddie or whoever to look down and some small gold earrings. You want to do a nice neutral makeup look, but browns are obviously a difficult color to work with, so you make do with orange and peach tones. 

You’re only waiting for about 10 minutes until you hear a knock at your door, and you open it to a smiling Robin. “Hey! Are you ready?” 

“Yeah, let me just grab my purse,” You walk across the room to the kitchen counter to your waiting bag, already packed with your essentials for the night before walking back, key in hand to lock the door behind you.  

The drive over to the hideout is short, and Steve pulls into one of the only parking spaces available. “I thought you said this was a seedy dive bar?” You say, an eyebrow quirking up at all the cars littered around the lot. Steve makes a face in the rearview mirror as he puts his car into park. 

“Yeah, but it’s still one of the only bars in town. There aren’t many places to choose from on a Friday night,” You let out a scoff at that, but shrug it off as you click your seatbelt off and open the door to get out. 

You follow Steve and Robin into the bar, handing your IDs to the bouncer to look at before he gives you a curt nod and lets you through. The bar is pretty packed. It’s not very big, so it seems even more crowed as groups of people hover around the pool tables and high tops around the edges. There’s a small wooden stage near the front, and the light is off. There’s no one playing tonight, you guess. 

“Hey! What do you want to drink? First round’s on Steve!” Robin shouts over the din of the other patrons.  

“Rum and Coke?” You suggest. You don’t really drink much, so it was just the first drink that came to mind. Robin nods in acknowledgement and shouts your order to the waiting bartender. You look around, your hands fidgeting with the strap of your purse over your shoulder as the nerves set in just a touch. You make brief eye contact with anyone you can, trying to pass the time before Robin bumps your hip with hers, hands occupied with drinks. She hands you yours and you take a big gulp, grimacing at the taste. Okay, maybe you won’t order this one again.  

“Steve saw an open table at the back, let’s go!” You nod and follow her through the crowd, taking special care not to bump anyone and spill your drink. Finally, you reach the four-seater table pushed almost completely to the back wall, and you climb into your seat, pushing your purse against the side that’s on the wall to the side.  

“So, what do you think?” Steve asks expectantly, arms gesturing to the scene around you. You give a laugh and an incredulous shake of your head.  

“It’s exactly what I expected, but also the complete opposite at the same time,” Steve shrugs. 

“Yeah, it was for me, too,” He laughs. Just then, Steve’s eyes look over your head, and he stands and waves his arms above his head. “There’s Eddie,” He explains as he sits back down. You heart beats hard in your chest suddenly. Chill the fuck out, Y/N, it’s not a big deal, You think to yourself as you take another big drink from your cup. 

A few minutes go by, and Eddie still hasn’t made his way to the table, you assume because he’s busy getting his drink, so you take a brief glance back and see him, drink in hand, a flirtatious smile on as he talks to a pretty girl standing over by one of the pool tables. She laughs at something he says, her blonde ponytail swinging. You can feel a heat fan over your cheeks as you turn back around, and you try to continue your conversation with Steve and Robin casually.  

Come on, be serious. You don’t even know this guy. He’s just some cute dude that happens to know your friends. It’s not your business who he flirts with— 

“Hey guys!” A shiver shoots up your spine as you feel the sudden warmth of a body right behind you. The unexpected closeness of Eddie as he comes to sit in the chair next to you makes you lose all the nerve you had spent all day building up. “Sorry, it took me so long. I just ran into Chrissy,”  

“Don’t worry man, you’re good. You remember Y/N, right?” Steve gestures to you, and you give him a small smile, looking toward his face but directly at him, looking away quickly to take another drink. 

“Of course, I do. I couldn’t forget a face like that. How’ve you been?” He asks, voice lilting sweetly. You nod exaggeratedly as you swallow, pulling the cup away and setting it down a little too harshly on the grey table, his casual flirtation nearly making you choke. It does nothing to calm your nerves.  

“I’m good! You know, just... hanging out.” You can’t help the awkward overtone to your voice as you avoid eye contact. You glace over at Steve and he shoots you a “Buck up, buttercup!” look. 

“Y/N’s on a soulmate journey!” Steve exclaims suddenly, practically forcing you to confront your fear of looking at Eddie. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, immediately regretting telling him when you had that conversation the other day. You bow your head low to try to hide the raging heat spreading over your entire body.  

“Oh, really? How’s that going? Where have you been so far?” Robin asks excitedly. “You know, I’ve actually been thinking about doing something like that, but I barely have any money to support myself, let alone to galivant across the country just to look at people,” She says. You lick your lips and nod, intent on keeping your eyes on Robin’s though you can feel Eddie looking toward you with interest. 

“This is actually the first place I’ve been. I’m only gonna be here for six months, then I’ll move on to the next place,” You explain. 

“Well, why Hawkins? This seems like a pretty nowhere place to start,” Eddie asks from beside you, and you shrug. 

“I didn’t really pick it myself. I just threw a dart at a map. Well, several maps,” Your eyes flick up as you remember looking everywhere for a proper map of Indiana before finally settling on a small, printer paper sized one you found on the internet.  

“Ahh,” You let your eyes wander over to Eddie’s hands, which lay on the table, decorated fingers wrapping loosely around his drink, which appears to just be whiskey on the rocks. “What color are you missing?” He asks casually. You freeze up, just for a second, your lips trying to catch up with the short circuit happening in your brain. 

“B-brown... What about you?” You’re tempted to peek, but you want to wait for his answer. You don’t know which answer would make you feel more at ease, but you’re on the edge of your seat in the moment it takes him to answer, and you take another drink to help calm the quick thrum of your heart in your chest, feeling a bit disappointed as you drink down the last dregs. 

“Oh, me? I’m missing Y/E/C.” He says. You can feel his eyes on you, and your quick glance to Steve and Robin give you encouragement, both of them practically begging you to look at him, and you take the leap. 

You look up to Eddie’s face, letting your eyes meander up his face until your eyes settle on his. They’re a rich black color, and you’re so close to looking away, the dejection building in your core when it happens.  

Your parents were right, the color really does swirl into place. You watch, mouth falling slightly open as the black transforms into this warm, dark color you can’t describe. How could you? It’s the first time you’ve ever seen it. Brown. This is brown. You let out a little laugh as more brown starts settling into the scene around you. The tables, the bar, the water stains on the plaster ceiling—all different shades of brown, and it’s immediately the prettiest color you’ve ever seen.  

“Oh, my god.” You manage to mutter. It’s all so overwhelming you feel like you could cry, but Eddie’s gaze on you keeps you steady. His smile widens, pure joy glinting in those beautiful eyes. 

“I had a feeling, but... I didn’t think it was possible,” Eddie breathes as he scans over every feature of your face. You scoff, thinking about all the time you’ve spent over the past few days thinking about him. 

“Me too,” You laugh. You reach a tentative hand forward, and Eddie takes it midair, guiding it to his face. You feel your skin vibrate as you touch him, your thumb gently swiping over his cheek. Your reverie is interrupted by Steve and Robin, who start yelling across from you. 

“WE’VE GOT SOULMATES OVER HERE!” The whole place erupts in applause, and you and Eddie giggle as the whole place starts chanting, “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” There’s a hint of hesitation, but then a playful glint in his eyes as Eddie looks back to you. 

“Would that be okay?” He asks, brows furrowing as he reads your reaction. You give a little nod, briefly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Might as well. Looks like we were made to,” You muse, batting your lashes flirtatiously. Eddie gives you a quick toothy smile before settling his hands on your face, and it’s like time moves to a standstill as your lips touch, gently at first, to test the waters, but then you slot your mouth onto his fully as the electricity streaks through your body. His lips move perfectly against yours, and everything around you becomes white noise as you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

As you part, you’re both grinning like love drunk idiots, giggling as your foreheads rest against each other. “A dart on a map, huh?” Eddie muses. You shrug, laughing again at the sheer insanity of it all. 

“Yeah. A dart on a fucking map!” Eddie’s lashes barely brush yours, his warm, sweet breath fanning over your face. 

“Thank God for that fucking dart, then.” His lips search for yours again, and you meet him in the middle with a smile that has your cheeks aching.  

1 in 7 billion has never seemed better. 

[germiyahu]

Not too thrilled that my other post is getting so many notes when I'm not satisfied with it for a multitude of reasons. Let's have a do-over, hopefully much more succinct and to the original point.

When Palestinians, actually basically all Arabs, or all Muslims, say "Jerusalem is holy to us it is the 3rd holiest city in our religion." The White Western Leftist (WWL) will say "That's so valid your religion is so interesting and beautiful Hamas did nothing wrong I love the Houthis!"

But if a Jew ever rebuts "Jerusalem is holy to us as well, it's our holiest city, basically the only one we have," the WWL will probably roll their eyes, scoff, probably say something like "Okay but like why are you still using your outdated Zionist death cult to justify colonialism? You really think the Bible justifies killing millions of Palestinians?" and start going on and on about how Judaism invented everything bad about Christianity.

My hypothesis: These people are not allies to Muslims (Palestinians). They are condescending to them. They are throwing them a bone because they feel bad about how the Muslim world has been treated, well ever since Sykes-Picot, but especially post 9/11, the Patriot Act, The War on Terror, Iraq, Afghanistan, the Drone War, Libya, Nato, The Arab Spring, the list goes on. They don't think Muslims are capable of building the kind of societies they want, not without their gracious help. They don't think Muslims should have the same ideals of democracy and human rights, because they don't expect that from the Brown People. They won't ever hold them to such a standard because "Ugh where do we get off lecturing them?" even though they would never think this of Jews.

These people are not equals to Jews, something something Sartre they think they are both superior and inferior (which makes them superior). They are not just trying to hold their fellow citizens of the world to account. They are trying to put Jews in their place. They are projecting their religious trauma onto Jews because they do not understand Judaism. They see Judaism as Power. They are trying to delegitimize Judaism as a religion (and it is a religion, including the parts of religions that give atheists the "ick," including a lot of mysticism). They are trying to caterwaul about Jews being responsible for the world's ills and that they expect Jewish People to be better than this. To evolve beyond religion and community and affiliation and identity. They want Jewish to be nothing more than a box ticked off on a census. A neat little factoid about yourself, like how your neighbor Cheryl has Norwegian ancestry.

My only conclusion is that these people find Jews and Judaism repulsive, and they find Muslims and Islam primitive. Unlike their parents' generation, they appreciate the primitive. It is noble savagery to them. Unlike their parents' generation, the comparatively cosmopolitan modern secular Western sheen of Jewry (applied to Jews against their will) is not something that we almost lost from the world, but an annoying holdover of what we almost successfully purged from the world.

Because remember, while they hate their parents and everything they stand for, they still deep down want Daddy's approval. So it makes perfect sense why the psyche would displace anger and trauma and all that caused by Christianity, and look elsewhere to place blame. It falls at the feet of Jews and Judaism. Because my culture could never, there has to be a missing puzzle piece that could explain- oh there it is. The Jews did it. And wow look how easily this can slot in with every other antisemitism conspiracy theory.

The audacity to think I could make a shorter version of that post 😂 But basically it's this: The WWL, the Zoomer Left, the Tankies, whatever name you call them... they think that they can "save" Muslims by offering up Jews, and the terrorist fascist fundamentalists like Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, they're on board. They're all in. Normal ass every day Muslims/Palestinians? They just want peace, they just want rights, they just want sovereignty. The WWL is not interested in that perspective.

They have not once in their lives thought of what they could possibly do in terms of reparations. No no, tweeting and marching for a weekend are quite enough. They have not once in their lives turned inward and self reflected on the ways they benefit from and their own role in these systems of supremacy, that have harmed Muslims around the world. Jewish blood is more than enough to pay for operation Iraqi Freedom. Jewish lives are a fetching price to assuage the Westerner's guilt. You know since they have so much trouble turning inward and reflecting on their own contribution to Islamophobia, it might do them good to practice a little תשובה... but I don't know 😌

[misfithive]

What I think Simon likes about Wille

I have seen some discussions about “why Simon even like Wille” (😔☹️💔) both here and elsewhere. I'm bored sooooo here is my list of what I think! I admit when I first watched I used to wonder sometimes why Simon liked him, mostly bc the back and forth hot and cold of season 1 could understandably be exhausting however once i thought about it I came up with many things. (some are hc ish ) :) I also think that if you love wilmon's relationship then you can see what they see in eachother. Two people (Wilmon) created that dynamic together both of them are loving/open/gentle with each other it is deeper than " i like that he sings and he is pretty"- they like how the other person makes them feel which is different I think than what is usually portrayed in teen relationships. People focus too much on their fights/angst sometimes and not their nice moments I think the good outweighs the bad. Also why i believe in endgame bc they have something deep and special.

1. I think Simon thinks Wille is adorable in a dorky way or finds him endearing. When Wille dropped the utensil after their first real convo Simon was blushing and giggling

2. Wille actively seeks him out a lot and tries to help Simon when he can/ When someone is giving you that kind of attention it is flattering and shows how kind Wille is (the tip about tutoring, the rowing tips, the song on the piano). Thats a quality someone would find attractive

3. Similarly when they are together Wille’s attention and energy is solely focused on him / Wille smiling at him adoringly all the time. I think that would make anyone feel special and especially if you are like Simon and spend a lot of energy caring for/thinking about other people

4. Wille is generally very gentle with Simon which is beautiful and also imagine someone being that gentle with u and holding u like that im sure u would fall in love too lmfao even tho simon is asleep I think he felt it and this isnt the only example I just like the picture hehe

5. Wille wears his heart on his sleeve. Simon is more guarded with his feelings i think he could drawn to how open/expressive/ softhearted Wille is with him. “I didn't want to lose you” “you are beautiful” etc

6. Wille makes him sandwiches asks him how he is doing a lot etc sorry but no boys were making me sandwiches as a teenager a lot of small things like this are still a big deal

7. Wille is a prince and he could be a total arrogant a** hole like everyone else at that school and no one would think twice but he is not. It takes a certain type of person to actively not be like that when u are born into that level of privilege and everyone will let you get away with whatever. I think Simon likes that Wille is different than than the other people at school who ignore him and treat him bad.

8. Simon feels safe around Wille (maybe with the exception of the music room scene) but they have a safe space together its a strong contrast to the dynamic with marcus and i think everything with marcus serves to highlight how special the dynamic is with Wille.

9. Wille gives good hugs

10. Wille is nice to Linda and tries to make her feel included Simon thought that was cute (it was very cute)

11. They can laugh together and see how silly (ridiculous) august/some of the antics of the other boys are

12. I could go on okay but love is not always rational and cant be contained in a list, they are soulmates and thats that!!!!!!!!!

//Adding that i think Omar said in an interview that despite what Simon says in the locker room he thinks Simon likes that Wille accepts him for who he is. But if anyone can find the clip pls share I dont wanna misquote him! //