#her younger self would have loved this place I’m sure

[catartac]

The Wizard Sky’s Private Study

Edited to include the night version

[rose-pearls]

Ciao potresti fare Luke castellan x fem reader dove il lettore fa ingelosire Luke ? Grazie !

Hi! I loved this request so here it is! Hopefully you like it :))

I am also thinking of writing for Clarisse so if you have any request you can always send them!

Request: a Luke x reader where the reader makes Luke jealous

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

The Camp had been plain chaos in the last few days, the reason for that was capture the flag. The infamous game had taken place yesterday and the blue team had once again won, with Annabeth as your leader. The girl was smart, but you also had the best swordman on her team.

Luke Castellan. You had fallen for the boy the moment you met him, but he never seemed to reciprocate the feelings. He was handsome, everyone with eyes could see that but he was also kind and sweet. He had helped you a lot when you arrived, feeling lost until your mother, Athena claimed you. After being claimed the two of you still talked a little bit but not as much.

“Oh, Luke you are so funny.”, you hear Claire say as she starts to giggle and curling a whisp of hair around her finger. The boy soaks up the attention of course, smirking back at her.

“I can see you glaring at her, maybe try to be more subtle,” you hear Annie say, making you look at her and let out a groan.

“I know, I really am an idiot, right? To believe that something could happen with him,” the younger girl looks conflicted at your words, but you shake your head.

“There you two are, I have been looking for you everywhere,” Percy says as he drops on the seat next to Annabeth, making the two of you looking at him with wide eyes.

“We are literally at a table in the middle of the camp, how hard can it be to find us?”, Annie asks him, and you can’t help but laugh quietly as the two of them start to bicker again, they really were like an old married couple.

You hear the same annoying giggle once again and try not to smash your potatoes even harder, but the jealousy seems to be reaching a boiling point. It was stupid to feel like this, particularly when nothing had happened between you and the Hermes boy. The girl was also a daughter from Aphrodite, she was stunning.

The clearing of a throat makes you look up and you find Annie and Percy looking at you with equally worried gazes.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, feeling self-conscious at the stares.

“I think that you just mashed these potatoes even more then I thought was possible,” Annie says, and you look at your previously mashed potatoes who were now looking a bit liquid.

“Remind me to never be on your bad side,” Percy says, and you shake your head in response, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Sorry, I just had something on my mind,” you tell them, hoping that the two of them would drop the subject but you were in front of Annie and Percy, so it wasn’t going to happen.

“Is that something, the blond Aphrodite daughter hanging off Luke’s arm?”, Percy asks, and Annabeth slaps him with a glare making him look at her with wide eyes.

“It is. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure she is a great girl but yes, it is them on my mind and her giggling every five seconds,” you tell them, making the two of them looking at you in sympathy. 

“Why don’t you make him jealous?”, Percy asks, and both Annabeth and you turn to look at the boy with wide eyes.

“Wait what?”, you can’t help but ask, waiting for some more explanation.

“It doesn’t seem like Luke is really interested in the conversation they are having, but every time he sees you turn around, he flashes her a dazzling smile. So, play his game and show him that you can also flirt with other people,” Annabeth looks unhappy with Percy’s answer, but you can’t help but think it through, maybe it would show you if he could possibly be interested or not.

“You’re right,” you say suddenly, cutting off the two.

“Wait what?”

“Really?”, Percy can’t help but ask before a proud smile appears on his lips, making Annie scoff.

“You can’t really be entertaining his stupid idea!”, you say but you shrug your shoulders.

“I need to know if he is interested or not, otherwise I’ll turn crazy. This way I know and if he isn’t I can move on,” you tell her calmly while she looks at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” she says, and you roll your eyes at her words.

“We can’t all have a Percy looking at us with puppy dog eyes,” you tell her with a wink, while the boy seems to wake up from his gazing, a scarlet brush coating his cheeks.

“Now, the only thing I need to find is the person to make Luke jealous with,” Annabeth sighs but a playful smirk is playing on her lips.

“I know one person that will drive him mad,” this makes both Percy, and you turn to look at her.

“Who?”, Percy and you ask at the same time.

“Max, from the Apollo cabin. They arrived at the same time and there has always been some kind of rivalry between the two of them,” the whispers as the three of you are huddled together to prevent someone overhearing. 

“Wait, isn’t that the guy who nearly beat Luke with the sword?”, Percy asks, and you try to remember the last time there was a contest.

“Keyword, nearly,” Annabeth says, still Luke’s number one supporter.

“That is perfect!”, you say and the two of them look at you with suspicious eyes.

“What do you mean?”, Percy asks after a moment.

“I’m going to ask Max for some pointers on my sword fighting, that way I can get close to him for a reason, and it is also something that will get Luke’s attention.”

“He will go crazy seeing Max giving you some directions,” Annabeth says, looking unsure but there is a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Alright team let’s get this quest on the road,” Percy says excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Now you are going to Max and the both of us will make sure that Luke is watching!”, Percy tells you as he starts pushing you off your seat.

“Good luck!”, Annie yells and you glare at her as a few campers look at you.

You try to nervously put your shirt right and your hair a bit better before telling yourself that this was ridiculous and just marching towards Max.

“Max, hi,” the boy turns to look at you, he looks surprised but then again you never really talked.

“Hi, what brings you here?”, he asks kindly, and you let out a nervous laugh.

“You are probably going to think that I am crazy, but I need some tips on sword fighting? I’m not really the best with the sword and capture the flag is in a few weeks.”, you tell him, feeling suddenly incredible stupid.

The boy seems unsure for a moment before a charming smile comes up.

“Of course, I’ll try to help you in the best way I can. Although I must say I’m surprised that you didn’t asked Luke for some pointers,” you knew he was going to ask this, after all you had never really interacted with him.

“Well, he is quite busy, you know knew kids coming in, the Hermes cabin and then Claire,” you say and Max nods in understanding.

“Lucky for you I have all afternoon,” he says, suddenly closer than he had been before, making you look up into his dazzling blue eyes.

“Here’s your sword,” he whispers, and you clear your throat before taking it.

“Thank you!”, you say, trying to keep your voice normal but it comes out a little squeaky.

--

“This is even better than a movie,” Percy says while Groover nods in agreement.

“Athena girl has enough of the Hermes boy flirting with other girls, so she goes and take a chance on an Apollo boy. Will the Hermes boy realize what he is losing, or will she end up with the Apollo boy?”, Groover whispers and Percy snorts at the words, while Annabeth shakes her head, a smile on her lips.

“Well looks like we won’t have to wait too long how that will end.”, she says as she sees Luke marching, or stomping, towards the two teenagers who had been talking. She had seen Luke looking at her half-sister for some time now but as Max put his hands on her waist to put her in position it seemed too much for Luke.

“And there goes the Hermes boy!”, Percy whispers, the three of them looking with avid attention.

“What in the Gods name are you three watching like a television show? And is that popcorn?”, Clarisse says, for once not looking like she wants to murder them.

“We are watching that show,” Groover says while pointing at Luke arriving towards the two others.

“Oh shit, this is going to be good. Move your little asses I want front row to Max getting his ass beaten,” Clarisse says with a smirk, but not before stealing some popcorn.

“It is getting heated,” Annabeth says, feeling unsure for once at the decision she made of letting you go towards the Apollo boy.

“Luke tries to push him but no of course she gets between them.”, Clarisse says, looking disappointed that the Hermes boy hadn’t slapped the Apollo kid. 

Max tries to put his hand on your shoulder while speaking but before he can Luke brings you to his side, putting you behind him and glaring at the boy in front of him.

“Touch her again and this time I will cut your hand off,”, they hear Luke say in a warning tone making them all let out a collective gasp.

“Get him Castellan!”, Clarisse yells suddenly, making the three teenagers look into your direction.

“Shit he saw us, time to go!”, Percy yells and the four manage to scramble away before the Hermes boy can turn his frustration towards them.

--

“Luke, will you calm down please. He was just giving me pointers.”, she says for the second time, but he can’t find it himself to calm down.

The boy had his hands on her, and he can’t stop seeing his flirty smile and her shy one.

“Fine. I’ll leave you two then.”, he says, feeling so angry that he just wants to rip everything to shreds.

“Common, Luke,” he hears her say and silently he hopes that she is following him, and that she didn’t chose to stay with the idiot.

He feels her hand on his arm and stops as she lets out a sigh.

“Will you stop and talk for a moment?”, she says, and he takes a deep breath before turning around.

“Don’t you have a sword lesson to follow?”, he says, unable to hide the sarcasm at the words.

“I simply asked him because you were too busy flirting with Claire,” the name of the Aphrodite girl is said with a certain disdain, that Luke recognizes all too well from his own thoughts about Max.

“Are you jealous?”, the girl scoffs but Luke can’t help the wide smile that appears at her embarrassment.

“Like you weren’t just throwing a hissy fit over there for the whole camp,” she bites back and Luke chuckles in response, getting closer to her.

“I was jealous, I can openly admit that. Nearly wanted to rip his head from his body for barely touching your waist,” he admits, watching her eyes widen in surprise and with something else. 

“Fine, I was jealous about Claire and the attention you were giving her,” she says, looking like she wanted to say anything but that. Luke smiles as he gets even closer to her and brings his arm around her waist, making her look at him in surprise.

“I wasn’t interested in her, I just wanted to see how you reacted to me talking with her and I have to say it was quite the show,” the girl looks at him with wide eyes.

“You dick! I thought you were interested in her!”, she exclaims, and Luke can’t help but laugh at her words.

“How could I be interested in her when I have you in the back of my mind all the time,” he whispers, smelling her perfume as he got even closer to her.

“Good thing I haven’t been able to think about anyone else either,” she whispers back, and Luke can’t help but feel revived at the words.

“Max?”, he asks, wanting to make sure that she wasn’t just confused.

“It was a plan to make you jealous,” she whispers, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and after a moment Luke realizes what she just said.

“You little minx, and I thought you were innocent!”, the words make her laugh as she curls her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Although it was fun to see you act all protective over me,” she whispers while biting her lip and Luke can’t help but look at her soft lips. 

“You drive me crazy darling,” he tells her before bringing her into a kiss, he holds her waist tightly and lets out a soft moan as she cards her fingers through his hair.

Unbeknownst to them five other campers are celebrating behind the trees.

“I told you this would work!”, Percy says, and Annabeth can’t help but agree.

“I thought he was going to rip my head off,” Max says, and the others snort in response.

“You were lucky she was there buddy,” Groover says while patting Max on the back.

“I don’t know about you guys but watching them kiss is not really my thing, let’s move out,” the others quickly agree at Annabeth’s words and leave their hiding place to go to the lake, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

[lesservillain]

older!alpha!steve harrington x younger!omega!reader

cw: SMUT, omegaverse dynamics, unprotected piv, modern setting, steve is a divorcee and single dad, steve is in his early 40s and reader is in their mid to late 20s an: this is just a self indulgent lil one shot bc i love older men ugh

“She was totally checking you out, by the way.”

Steve pushes the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his attempt to hide the pink that dusts over his cheeks at Robin’s comment.

“What? No she wasn’t. Don’t do this today.”

The plastic of the menu bends in Steve’s grip by Robin’s ringed fingers. He tries to focus on the suns glare hitting the laminated paper rather than his best friend’s knowing gaze. He hates that she does this to him.

 It wasn’t their first time at this diner, nor was it their first time being waited on by you. What started as Robin’s attempt to get her depressed best friend out of the house after a quick but painful divorce has turned into a regular bi-weekly Sunday outing for the pair. And thanks to Robin’s commitment to a bit, she makes sure to arrive before Steve every time to sit in your section, all because she caught Steve checking you out one time.

“Why don’t you believe me that she likes you?”

“Robin—”

“Steve.” The tired battle of lifting Steve’s confidence was one that Robin refused to lose. “How many times do I have to tell you that you still got it? A little gray hair and a dorky mustache is, like, the new six pack abs for girls in their 20s.”

“Oh, god, do I need to have Hailey touch up my hair already?” Steve’s hands fly to cover the sides of his hair where his grays tended to show the most. The sudden movement sent his menu flying down to land on the floor next to him. 

“Shit—”

“Here you go—”

Skin meets skin when you went to grab the flimsy plastic at the same time as Steve. A shock wave runs from Steve’s finger through the rest of his body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hazel eyes jump up to meet yours, and he can feel the breath from your gasp on his cheek. You shoot up, frozen in place as you look down at him. The tension is palpable between you. 

Suddenly, you bolt, leaving Steve still leaning over his seat as he watches you take off out of sight.

“What was that about?” The tone in Robin’s voice had Steve sitting up straight, annoyance clear in his expression.

“What was what, Robin?”

“Um, are we just going to ignore that pheromone drop you just did?”

Steve shifts in his seat, eyes wide as he looks around the diner. A few heads were turned to him, mostly older alpha’s with death glares as their marked omega’s sit blissfully unaware across from them. “Sorry.” He says in a hushed apology, shrinking back into his booth seat.

“Well, at least we have confirmation your girlfriend is an omega,” Robin says over a sip of her coffee. Steve’s ears perk up, but he does his best not to show his interest in the topic of you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “I honestly probably just scared the shit out of her. Did you see how fast she ran off?”

“I’m sure you were watching.” Steve’s head falls back with a scoff, making Robin giggle at his embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“Thank you.”

“Are we ready to order?”

Robin and Steve turn to the waitress at the end of the table, immediately noticing she’s not you. They give the girl their order, and Steve can’t help but feel some type of way about how you would have just asked them if they wanted their regulars. With a heavy sigh Steve stares at the table’s vintage pattern until Robin calls his name. Her expression is soft, knowing in a way that is both relieving and disheartening.

“Maybe she’s on a break?”

“She hates me.”

“She does not hate you.”

“Yes she does. I’m a grown man who couldn’t control his pheromones all because a pretty girl touched his hand? We should probably just leave.”

Robin grabs Steve’s arm with a laugh as he attempts to make an escape from their booth. “Steve, it’s fine. I doubt you’re the first person that’s done that to her. Just relax.”

Steve sighs and nods. “Okay, okay. I’m good now.”

SPACE

“So you’re good to pick up the girls from practice this week, right? I’m hoping that this project will be wrapped up by Thursday--”

“Of course, Steven,” Robin says as she opens her car door. “You think I’d ever turn down the chance to spend time with one of my favorite nieces?” 

“I just want to make sure. I don’t want to give Becca any ammunition against me, you know.” Steve’s hands flex, thinking back to the argument him and his now ex wife had those months back.

Robin opens her mouth, but decides against whatever she had to say, simply nodding instead. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve nods back, watching as Robin gets in her car and drives away. He leans back to see her car disappear down the road before swinging his own door open and leaning inside. Reaching into his center console, he pulls out a pack of smokes and a lighter, bringing the butt to his lips and flicking the lighter. The flame refuses to stay, however, the clicking grating his ears with every failed attempt causing him to curse.

“Need a light?”

Steve spins around, bewildered, large hazel eyes like saucers when they land on you. A bright pink lighter sits between your fingers, and with a flick the flame emerges, waiting for him to lean in. He puffs until the heat hit his throat, pulling back to take in a deep drag, letting the smoke blow upward above him. 

When he looks back down at you, you’ve barely moved. Eyes lidded slightly and lips parted just so, almost like you were mesmerized by him. It makes Steve chuckle out of nervousness, not used to being ogled at his “big age” as his daughters would say.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile that seems to bring you back to this planet, eyes blinking rapidly before you pull out your own pack of cigarettes. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your eyes flicker up to him for a moment before giving yourself a light.

“You’re too pretty to be smoking,” Steve says passively, smoke billowing out between his own lips.

You look up at him through your lashes. For a brief moment you look annoyed at his comment and Steve is sure he fucked up again. The words of his oldest going on about how men shouldn’t comment on what women do rings in his ears and he wants to slap himself.

“Well, I could say the same for you.” There’s a teasing lit in your words, but the cute shuffle and bounce combo that you do gives Steve butterflies as it fuels his delusions. 

Channeling his former self, his mind shifts into King Steve mode after 20 years of retirement. He takes a step into your space and internally celebrates when you don’t move away. “Awe, you think I’m pretty?” The tone of his voice surprises him, coming out more sensual than he intended. But your reaction tells him that he must be doing something right.

“You’re definitely nice to look at.” Your words come out even but breathy. Was he really having this effect on you? Maybe Robin wasn’t wrong about him still having it in him.

“Oh, so you like to look at me?”

“Only for about an hour every other Sunday.”

Steve sucks in a breath. The way you’re looking at him right now is making him have thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the very public parking lot of your workplace. But he can’t get over the fact that you’ve been looking at him of all people.

“Is-is that so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, taking a drag of your cigarette and blowing it out. “Would be nice to look at you for an hour from a different angle sometime.”

Steve coughs on his hit, completely thrown off by your forwardness. But you don’t seem to be deterred, rather you close the gap between the two of you, chests touching as you look up into his eyes.

Lips move in a feverish kiss as Steve pins you against his front door, keys fumbling in his hand as he attempts to unlock it while keeping the two of you connected. You giggle against his neck when he pulls away, leaving a few kisses against his skin as he finally gets the door open. His hands fly to your hips, walking you backwards into his home where his lips crash into yours once again.

“Nice place,” you say as he moves to leave heated kisses against your neck.

“Thanks,” he says between nips on your skin. A low groan pulls from his chest when he feels your hand slide down to palm at his crotch. A smirk forms on his lips at the little gasp you let out when you feel his size, and he bucks his hips into your hand playfully.

In one swift motion he lifts you up and over his shoulder, delighted by your laughter filled squealing as he carries you to his bedroom. Kicking the door open with a gentle shove, he walks you over to his king size bed and plops you down on the comforter. The huge smile and wild look in your eyes spurs him on, all the blood in his body rushing to his dick when you reach your arms out for him. 

Steve pulls off his shirt with haste, and your eyes fix on the healthy patch of hair that covers his chest that tapers down his stomach to where it disappears into his jeans. He feels a little self conscious under your gaze, but the way your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking across your bottom lip has him climbing over top of you to chase it with his own. 

Hands move between your bodies and clothes go flying until the two of you are fully exposed to each other. Steve’s hard, leaking cock presses into your thigh, laying heavy against your already hot flesh. Your fingers run through his soft locks as his mouth attaches to your breast, nipping and biting until his mouth reaches your hardened nipple. 

While his mouth pays your sensitive chest attention, his large hands have wandered down between your legs and began running his fingers through your folds. His fingers skim over your clit with each stroke, sending little jolts through your body.

“God, you’re so wet,” he breathes out, his blown out pupils meeting yours.

“Just for you,” you say with a smirk, one that turns into an open mouth moan when he finally plunges a finger into your waiting cunt. 

There’s no mercy as his fingers move inside of you just right, hitting that spot with a curled finger over and over. Your hands grip his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away but he doesn’t relent. He just watches the way your face contorts as another thick finger joins in stretching you out for him. 

“So beautiful.” Steve doesn’t even realize he’s said it out loud, but he can’t think of another word to describe the way you look under him. “Doing so good for me, honey.”

His praises send you over the edge and you cum hard on his fingers. The way you squeeze his fingers mixed with the smell of your pheromones releasing has Steve’s cock twitching in anticipation. When you come down from your high, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and pull him in for sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

“Mmm, gonna need you to fuck me now, big boy,” you say into his ear, tongue licking at his lobe in a way that makes his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Your soft hand slides down between the two of you to grab his cock and pump it a few times in your hand. “Do you have any condoms?”

Steve freezes above you. 

“Um, well no…” he stutters. “Me—uh, my wife— ex wife—,” he looks at you directly with his clarification, “she had her tubes tied so we, um, we never used them so I don’t have—”

You put a finger over Steve’s lips, hushing his babbling immediately. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a sympathetic look, “I understand. We can stop…or.”

“Or?” Steve asks.

“Or, if you don’t care…then I don’t care? Just pull out?”

Steve felt like he was going to bust in your hand as it worked his aching cock. Deep down he knew it was irresponsible. But the way you were making him feel was lowering his inhibitions. And when was the last time he’d ever been reckless? 

“O-okay,” he swallows dryly, “I’m okay with that. But, um, I do want to be transparent with you.” Your head tilts to the side waiting for his response. God, could you be any cuter? “I, um, I haven’t been with an omega in, like, 20 years. So, I just—just know I’m not sure how long I’m going to last, you know…”

“Your wife—”

“Ex wife—”

“Ex wife, she wasn’t an omega?”

Steve shakes his head. He’d never been one to care about second gender dynamics. Sure, there were elements to their alpha x beta relationship that didn’t fulfill him like an omega would, but he loved Becca all the same during their relationship.

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve is sure he’s completely ruined the moment between the two of you. He’s mentally preparing himself to take you back to your car, but you suddenly move beneath him in a way that flips him on his back. He watches as you straddle his lap, your dripping cunt hovering just above his cock where you still have your hand wrapped around it.

“You poor thing,” you say with faux perturbance, lowering down far enough that you can rub yourself against his length. “Gone all these years with no omega to make you feel good?” Steve nods dumbly, completely entranced by the dynamic shift between you. “Do you want me to fix that for you? Wanna fill me up with your alpha cock?”

“Yes—yes, please.” His voice comes out a pathetic, whiny plea as his glassy eyes stay laser focused on yours.

Without warning you sink down onto his cock, both of you moaning out at the sudden connection. Even with him stretching you out on his fingers and the amount of slick your body produced, your tight cunt still squeezes Steve like a vice as you take each inch of him like a champ. You move up and down, working yourself open on him and Steve can barely stand it, wanting to grab your hips and move you himself. But Steve breaths through it, nostrils flared,  until you’re seated completely against him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“Hooooly shit,” he breathes out. Steve needs a second to keep himself from cumming too soon, but it’s a second that you don’t spare him as you begin to bounce on his cock. Leaning over him, your hands rest against his chest, giving him the perfect view of your tits as they bounce in his face. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you moan out, brows pinching as the head of his cock reaches deep inside of you. “Even for an alpha, you’re s-so fucking big.”

Steve finally lets his hands grip on your hips, but instead of moving you how he wants, he fights against you to still your movements. 

A pout forms on your lips as you look down at him, and Steve wants nothing more than to shove his cock in your mouth to get rid of it. But, you feel too good wrapped around him so he takes his thumb and pushes it past your lips instead. Immediately you begin to suck and mouth on it, slowly grinding your hips against him to get any bit of friction between you.

When he pulls his thumb from your mouth, it lands on your clit to rub slow circles into it. You whine at the stimulation, trying to buck your hips faster in order to chase your high. 

Loosening his grip, he lets you move against him again. Steve watches in awe at the way you come undone above him, picking up the pace on his thumb as you move with little rhyme or reason. He feels your body stiffen, jaw dropping with a silent scream as your cum all over his cock, your slick coating his balls and dripping down onto the bed sheets underneath you.

Steve is generous enough to give you a second to come down before he’s pulling you off of him and back onto the bed. He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, the far off look in your eyes fading away as you look up at him with a satisfied grin.

“Did so good, sweet girl,” Steve says between peppered kisses against your face, making you beam. His gentle hands maneuver your limp body until you're flat on your stomach. He rubs up and down your back until his grip lands on your ass, kneading at the flesh there and spreading you apart for him to admire.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Steve praises. Your body jumps when you feel his fingers run through you again, followed by an almost pained groan. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Steve��s fingers in his own mouth, eyes squeezed shut as he savors the way you taste. “Fucking amazing. Forgot how good omega pussy is.” 

You hum at his words, finding the energy to raise your hips to present yourself to him, wiggling them back and forth. “Why don’t you come get some? Straight from the source.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide with shock. “Really? That’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” you say with a chuckle. “Why would it not be?”

Steve wants to bring up how his ex would only let him go down on her when they had the time, which wasn’t often for two full time parents. But, he didn’t want to bring the mood down by bringing up his wife or how he felt like he might have been bad at it since she never wanted it.

“I just, uh, wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you say, moving your hips playfully, “Less talking and more doing then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve salutes before diving in tongue first. The taste of you is like divine nectar in his mouth. Something he could see himself getting addicted to if given the opportunity. 

Flattening the thick muscle, he pushes it between your folds and licks a long stripe from your clit to your hole, letting the tip catch on it teasingly. He feels your body shiver under him, sending a confidence boost through his veins that encourages him to keep going.

Another quicker swipe through, but this time he lets his tongue slip into you completely. His thumb makes its way back to your clit, working it in tandem with his tongue in a way that makes you dizzy. Then, they switch places, his lips wrapping around your bud to lick and suck while his fingers curl inside you, his nose right up against your slit.

Steve feels the way you squeeze around him, familiar enough now that he knows your third orgasm is quickly approaching. But the thought of not feeling you cum on his cock has him pulling away from you all together. He laughs when you let out a whine, only for it to turn into a moan when he pushes the head of his cock inside you. He watches the way it pops in, disappearing in your tight cunt as you suck him in.

He wants to take his time with you, but the way you push back against him has him laughing. “Okay, I’m sorry, sweet girl. No more—teasing.” He punctuates the last word with a snap of his hips, thrusting all the way inside of you. His heavy balls audibly slap against your clit. 

Steve manhandles your hips until they’re just where he likes them and begins to pound into you. Not too aggressive, but hard enough that his bed frame hits the wall with every thrust. Your vocalizations echo off the walls in competition, and he’s never been so thankful that his kids were staying with their mom for the weekend, because he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to tell you to stay quiet like he was used to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Steve! Oh my god, fuck me, Steve!”

Steve is sure he can taste blood from how hard he’s biting his bottom lip. His mind feels like it’s turning to mush again, pussy drunk from how right it feels to be inside you. Biology be damned, but he couldn’t deny it.

Slumping forward, Steve’s arms wrap around you and pin you to the mattress below him. His nose presses into the back of your neck, nostrils flaring again as your sweet scent fills them up. Drool spills from his mouth and onto your skin, and every fiber of his being is screaming at him to bite down onto that sensitive spot. He lets a canine drag against it, and he sees the goosebumps forming on your skin. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Steve feels you cum on his cock, body shaking and eyes rolling back as you cry out. It’s all too much for Steve, bringing him to the edge where he’s about to cum himself. 

He goes to pull out, but struggles as your body pins his arms under you. “Shit, shit!” He panics, only managing to pull out about halfway, unable to stop himself from cumming inside of you. 

Steve knows that he should feel bad, and he probably will once he finally stops cumming. But, at the same time, he’s pretty sure he’s never cum so hard in his life. And before he knows it, he feels the blood rushing into the base of his cock where it begins to swell. He pulls out of you just enough that his knot sits snugly against your hole, practically begging to be inside of you.

“Holy shit, did you knot?” You pant against his bed sheets, turning your body to look back at him.

“Y-yeah,” He pushes himself off of you, sitting back on his knees. He looks at the way his knot is pressed against your entrance, feeling only a slight resistance when he rocks forward a bit.

“I’m surprised you pulled it out,” you say, giving him a look that he isn’t sure how to read. Heat creeps all over his body as the guilt starts to set in.

“I was trying to pull all the way out, I promise. I’m so sorry. We can stop at the drugstore on the way back to your car and—”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay.” 

He feels the way you push back into his knot, rocking back and forth on his still hard length while his cum subtly starts to leak out of you. 

“Yeah?” He asks again, eyes locked on his knot as you work yourself open on it. You’re so tight, but he can feel the resistance starting to give. Maybe if he just…

“Oh my god!” You squeal out. With one hard thrust, Steve was able to push his knot fully inside of you until it locks in place. Whether it be the natural connection between an alpha and an omega or, if your pussy was just that good, Steve can’t help but cum again, filling your already stuffed pussy up with more of his seed. 

“It’s…it’s..”

“What is it, Stevie baby,” you ask in a sugary sweet voice, mind clearly on cloud nine from the soft look on your face. 

“It’s just, it’s been so long…so long since I’ve felt like…”

“Awe, come’er,” you motion for him to lay with you, and Steve follows your command, taking you in a strong arm and maneuvering you both comfortably onto your sides. Underneath the covers, the two of you hold each other like you’ve been doing this for years rather than being a random Sunday afternoon hookup. The hairs of his mustache tickle the skin on your shoulder where he leaves kisses over and over again.

The two of you are quiet as you lay there in his bed. Steve’s mind races as the post nut clarity kicks in. Guilt plagues his brain first, but not in the way he thought it would. He thought he would feel guilty about sleeping with someone he didn’t vow his life to almost 20 years ago, but that’s not the case. Instead he feels guilty wishing he’d not wasted all those years with someone who couldn’t make him feel like this. All those years of putting her needs first…

“Are those your daughters?”

Steve’s head pops up to look over yours. Following your gaze, he sees the picture in question—well, he can’t see it clearly, his glasses being lost in the shuffle to get here. But, he knows what picture you’re talking about. It’s a picture of him and his two daughters, Hailey and Kristina, at their soccer tournament when they were 9 and 7 respectively. Their team had won 2nd place, but the both of them didn’t care because their dad had shown up to watch them play. It’s one of his favorite pictures of the three of them.

“Yeah, those are my girls,” Steve says with pride.

“They’re cute.” You look back at him with a smile, “They definitely get their looks from you.”

Steve feels the heat on his cheeks and ducks his head. “Thank you. Do, uh, do you have any kids?”

“Nope,” you say with a shake of your head. “Well, not yet at least.”

“Again, I am so, so sorry—” You bark out a laugh at his embarrassment and Steve tries to ignore the way you squeeze him.

“I’m just teasing, Steve.”

“Oh-okay,” he settles, daring to squeeze you a little tighter to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you say excitedly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“Well, okay actually it’s, like, a series of questions. But, I guess the first one is…why me?”

“Why you? Like, why did I sleep with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Um, partly because you’re, like, really, really hot.”

Steve laughs at that, “Should’ve seen me when I was your age.”

“I’m sure you were super hot then, too. But you look like one of those guys who gets better with age.”

“Thanks…”

“Anyway, I also slept with you because you’re always really nice when you and your friend come in. I thought maybe you were, but honestly I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or not. I also wasn’t sure if you and her were dating and I didn’t want to embarrass myself so I never said anything. But when you pheromone bombed me earlier…I had to take my break because I thought I was going to go into heat.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about that, too,” Steve internally scolds himself for forgetting about that. “Forty two years old and I can’t even contain myself. Acting like I’m a newly presenting alpha again.”

“It’s okay…honestly it was kinda hot. That’s why when I saw you leaving, I thought ‘Fuck it, might as well shoot my shot.’ Glad I did.”

Steve is trying his damnedest to stay collected, he really is. But the more you talk about wanting to pursue him, the more he feels like he needs to get away from you before he falls for you. He knows it’s just the pheromones and the fact that he hasn’t felt wanted since Becca left him, but damn does it feel good to have someone want him.

He feels you snuggle back against him. You look over your shoulder at him with a sly expression. 

“Ready for round two already?” You say with a teasing lit. His eyes go wide.

“What?” He asks with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m just kidding,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him.  “Just felt like you got harder when I was talking about how I wanted you.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “I mean, if I can get this knot to go down enough…” It’s been a long while since Steve’s been able to go for a second round. But, he’s pretty sure he’d do anything you asked him right now.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind this for a little bit longer.”

The two of you ended up fucking for a good majority of the afternoon. At some point Steve fell asleep inside you, leaving you to scroll through his barely touched instagram until his knot went down again. He warned you that pictures of his wife were still on there since he didn’t know how to delete them. But when you told him you didn’t care about his past he ended up fucking you again, which is how you ended up in the position you’re in now.

When Steve rouses from his nap, he’s sad to find you not in bed with him. It felt good having someone to share his bed with again. A king size mattress is too big for only one person to occupy Steve has thought many nights now.

Steve puts on a pair of gray sweats and a tee shirt and searches the house for you. He gets a little nervous when he doesn’t find you anywhere. With a slight panic, he runs back to his room and checks his clothes from earlier. When everything was still in his pockets he grabbed his phone to see if you’d texted him that you were leaving. That was until he remembered that he never asked for your number…

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he grabs his phone and taps the screen. The picture of Hailey and Kristina opening gifts at Robin’s house over Christmas break comes up, making him smile. But when he looks at the bottom of the screen, he sees the little notification bubble and scrolls up. 

His eyes widen when he sees your name attached to a text message. He opens the message quickly, squinting his eyes to see the screen without his glasses on. 

wanted a smoke so I’m sitting in your car hope that’s okay ♥️

Steve is up instantly, grabbing his coat and house slippers before pushing out the front door. He saw you in his passenger seat, bundled up in your coat with a cigarette still lit between your fingers. You were on the phone with someone, distracted as you looked out the front window. He could hear you speaking with someone through the cracked window.

“Yeah, the older guy. The divorced one…Girl, oh my goooooood…I will when I see you later. He’s so hot though…I don’t know. I kinda hope so. Like I’m sure my parents would be so pissed if I started dating a guy in his 40s…I don’t know. But girl we went at it for hooouuuursss, so I hope so.”

Steve was sure his face was the same shade of red as a tomato. He could hardly believe a girl was sitting in his car talking about how much she liked him to presumably one of her friends. And you were talking about dating?

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

The words come out on their own. Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. You mutter a quick good bye to your friend and open the car door.

“S-sorry, I was talking to my friend. What did you say?”

Steve debated on back tracking. There’s no way you could be serious about liking him, so why embarrass himself, or even scare you off by taking things further. You were right, you were old enough that your parents wouldn’t approve even if you both wanted it. As a father of two girls, he can’t help but think about how he would feel if one of them brought home someone at least 15 years older than them…

“Steve?” The way you looked at him had him folding in an instant.

“I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

A smile played at the ends of your mouth. “Really?” You ask coyly. “This isn’t just some little fantasy thing for you? Older man hooking up with a younger girl to make himself feel better?” Steve shook his head.

“God, no. Those aren’t my intentions at all.” Steve’s hand reaches out for yours, which you gladly take, swinging them between the two of you. Steve clears his throat before looking you in the eye as he speaks.

“I’m not the type of guy that does…” He gestures vaguely towards his house. “Does the hook up thing. At least I haven’t been in a good while.”

“I knew you were a player when you were younger,” you say with a cheeky smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

“I saw a picture that your friend Robin tagged you in on her instagram of the two of you back in the day and…” You gave him a look that made him duck his head. 

“I guess you could say that I was a bit more debaucherous back in my early twenties. But, I think the longevity of my marriage should stand as testament that I am capable of being a loyal, faithful partner to the right person.”

“And you want to see if I could be a candidate for that “right person” position?”

“Mmm, that sounds like you’d need to convince me.” He pulls you into him, looking down at you as you’re pressed against him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve already got me hooked on you. Just need to prove to you that this old man is worth keeping around.”

The way your smile crinkles your eyes as you look up at him has Steve’s heart fluttering. And when you reach up to kiss him, that fluttering swells into a blooming warmth that runs through his veins the second your lips touch.

“Well, when and where does this “old man,” you echo his words with finger quotes, “want to have this date, hmm?”

The two of you iron out the details over a smoke in Steve’s warm car, and continue to talk well past the setting of the sun. Eventually, Steve takes you back to your car, where the two of you make out parked next to it until you’re pretty sure you hear your closing coworkers coming out the back door from the end of shift.

Steve makes you promise to text him when you get home to make sure you got there safe. You throw a casual “sure thing, dad” at him, and as he watched you get in your car he has to question himself as to why he liked you calling him that…

thank you for reading.

[theblueflower05]

Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

[ariseur]

sephiroth w/ a little sister!reader !? I don't see many headcanons / fic / anything of Sephiroth with this type of scenario although I consider it something cute & fun x'D, specifically Seph discovering that his little and beloved (?) sister has several guys with a love interest behind her. How would Seph be in the situation, would he be a protective older brother, would he be the type that scares them away with just a deadly look? My, many possibilities! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

sephiroth’s little sister hcs 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader (platonic!!)

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

THIS REQUEST WAS SOO CUTE I NEVER SEE LITTLE SISTER HCS LIKE THIS EITHERR. thank you for the request anon, hope i did it justice !! 💗

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, mentions of pre and post nibelheim, mentions of hojo (he’s a warning within itself), possessiveness but like not in a weird way.. seph’s just crazy, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ soooo.. starting off!!

❥ i think that sephiroth with a little sister would definitely be interesting; the war hero now being seen with an ultimately younger girl, it’d be amusing seeing such a difference between the two especially if you’re shorter.

❥ i’m not sure how being sephiroth’s sister would necessarily work considering he was an “experiment” of jenova, and from my knowledge after lucrecia gave birth to him she was crystallized in the crystal caves? but if we’re ignoring that and maybe that didn’t happen or something like that idk, i think it’d be pretty hectic, especially if you were also an experiment of jenova’s cells.

❥ both pre and post sephiroth would love you dearly. pre sephiroth would make it a mission to visit you as much as possible and would try to fit some time in his schedule to go and hang out with you. usually, he’d go take walks with you or if you like food then he’d be insistent on making a trip of trying a bunch of new places.

❥ he is honestly your biggest defender— although i don’t expect a lot of people to disrespect you while a close-to-six-foot first class SOLDIER is looming right behind you. i dont know if he’d let you out of his sight all that often when you’re around him, his instincts just kinda kick in so he’s following you around like a dog.

❥ if you were known by genesis and angeal crisis-core era, and genesis hits on you or even tries to flirt??? ooh sephiroth is right behind you in an instant. he is NOT letting genesis get with you at all, i’m sorry in advance to the self insert x genesis readers that had this idea in mind but i def don’t think that seph would be okay with you dating his friends. even angeal, whom he trusts very dearly and knows that he wouldn’t try anything with you, would have sephiroth feeling iffy.

❥ if you had “suitors” or if you were popular with the boys ( and maybe the ladies too if you’re just THAT suave ), ooh sephiroth would have a heart attack. he’d want you to choose who you want, of course, but be prepared for sephiroth lurking around every corner like a cat. if you bring your partner to meet him? he’s gonna look like the scariest mf regardless if he’s trying to be or not.

❥ he especially doesn’t want you to do anything with his job. if you have jenova cells or if extraordinary strength then he might feel a little better if you were to be involved with the SOLDIER program or shinra, but if you’re a civilian then he’d rather not get you involved with his duties. there’s too much on the line and he can’t risk you getting hurt, also another reason why he prefers to keep you on the down low or for him to only visit you.

❥ also another thought, but i just keep imagining zack flirting with you or meeting you and thinking you’re absolutely GORGEOUS ( because if you’re related to sephiroth.. you gotta be pretty let’s be honest that mans so beautiful ) ( we don’t talk about hojo though, there’s no way he’s related to seph. vincent gotta be the daddy ), but then once he sees that sephiroth is your brother he literally goes WHITE. starts trying to subtly be more friendly and lowkey apologize for his behavior.. spoiler alert; zack is not subtle.

❥ now whatever you do.. don’t imagine sephiroth meeting you the day before heading out to nibelheim. whatever you don’t, think imagine you guys walking at night as he talks about how worried he is for his friends, and how he thinks zack is going to do. and whatever you do, don’t imagine reminiscing after the village burns down, your mind trailing back to the last hug he gave you before he found out what he really was.

❥ if you were to still stay with post nibelheim sephiroth, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. he can’t lose you at all, not now— not now that he knows you’re the only thing he has left. he’ll go through the motions of being very cold to you sometimes and then being very overprotective

❥ he’d come home one day from only the lord knows where, and wake you up in the middle of the night. and when you finally awake, he wouldn’t let you go. i imagine he’d feel conflicted. sephiroth was dehumanized from birth and ostracized from a normal life as he never met his true mother lucrecia and hojo had no interest in claiming him other than for his own benefit as a scientist. if you were dealt with such things as well, or maybe you were separated because sephiroth was the superior experiment, it wouldn’t matter; sephiroth contained these feelings that he didn’t know how to feel or express himself about.

❥ he wouldn’t understand why he felt this way, especially having no sort of concept of family brought to him within the early years of his life, but all he knows is that he has you

❥ he only has you— and he’s not willing to risk losing you anytime soon.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Belladonna - Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - Meaning: Silence, betrayal

Summary: Duke Leto's new wife has been neglected. When the Duke finds her under his Swordmaster, he summons her to his office for a talk but it ends up not being what she expected.

Pairing: Leto Atreides x F!Reader, (past fling) Duncan Idaho x F!Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: Slight Hurt/Comfort, fluff, Discussion of marital neglect/politically arranged marriage that leads to infidelity, reader has female genitalia but is otherwise not described, slight language, reader tries to appear aloof, Leto is probably OOC, feelings talk, a little husband/wife flirting at the end

Day 4 my loves! This is my first Dune fic and I have only seen the 2021/2024 films and read through some of the Wiki pages so forgive me if there are horrendous inaccuracies. This takes place pre-Dune by about 10 years, so Paul is a kid and Leto is a little younger but still foxy as hell.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

The thing about Caladan, you had come to learn, is that no matter where you were in the palace you could always hear the ocean. The crash of waves against the cliff below lulled you to sleep every night since your marriage to Duke Leto about two months ago. Sixty days, of which the Duke had only visited your bedchamber twice. The rest he spent, you assumed, in his chambers with Lady Jessica. 

In fact, you had barely seen him other than your weekly dinners since the wedding. The dinners were silent affairs, you on one end of the long formal dining table and the Duke on the other. Conversation extended no further than pleasantries. You didn’t mind too much — a political marriage like yours wasn’t meant to inspire affection and since the Duke had his concubine and his heir, you were only there to solidify the alliance between Caladan and your home planet, Calypso-9. 

Today, you’d been summoned to his office to discuss yesterday’s incident. 

The incident in which he’d found you underneath his Swordmaster Duncan Idaho in the training room. Half-naked. Writhing and crying in pleasure while Duncan pummeled your cervix with his impressive cock. It had been months since you’d been intimate with someone, and during your self-defense training Duncan’s touches while he corrected your form along with the smell of his sweat and endorphins from the exercise had proven to be too much. You’d given in to your baser instincts, and fuck, did it feel good.

Leto hadn’t said anything, only caught your attention with a loud clear of his throat. When he saw your and Duncan’s eyes on him, all he did was about-face and walk out of the room. 

He maintained the same stoic expression now. His dark eyes bore into yours as he stroked his beard. You had noticed how large his hands were during your wedding ceremony, and you remembered how they felt on you while he dispassionately consummated your union that night. All you could hear were the waves crashing. 

“I think we’re both aware of why I called you here,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

“You found me fucking Duncan. I apologize if you were offended, my Lord, but I’m not sure why you called me here. Were you offended? Jealous?” You honestly didn’t know why he would want to hash this out between you unless he was going to scold you for being so indiscreet, which you supposed was deserved. 

“What if I was?” He asked, gaze softening before he continued without waiting for your answer, “Even though you and I both know I have no right to be. Our marriage is simply a political arrangement and I have Jessica and Paul while you left your homeworld to come here and be ignored by the husband you never wanted in the first place.” 

Gobsmacked. That was the only way you could describe yourself as you picked your jaw up off the floor. To say you hadn’t expected candor of this level was an understatement.

“I…Apologies, my Lord, but-” 

“Leto.”

“Pardon?”

“You are my wife, there’s no need for formalities. Call me Leto.”

You held back a scoff, turning it into a light sigh instead. “Since this is the second longest conversation we’ve ever had, you’ll forgive my hesitation with familiarities, but alright. Leto,” he nodded gratefully, so you continued, “I don’t fully understand your meaning.” 

“What I mean is I am angry about what I saw yesterday but not for the reasons you may think. I’m not upset with you because I understand that I am what drove you into the arms of my Swordmaster. I am angry with myself for neglecting you so cruelly since our wedding and I promise to do better by you. Perhaps not to Duncan’s extent, but-” 

You burst out laughing, which caused his brows to knit together in confusion. His large hands folded in front of him on his desk as you tried to get yourself under control. 

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you said, waving a hand in front of you, “I don’t mean to be laughing, I swear, but…is that all it would’ve taken to get your attention?” 

“Well, no, but-” 

“To think all I had to do was fuck someone else…I would’ve gotten your attention weeks ago.” 

“You’ve…been wanting my attention?”

This time you let your scoff out, “Of course! When my father told me he’d found me a husband I expected some old, ugly lord with at least two dead wives and no heirs. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when we met and you were none of those things.” 

“I’m not not old,” he chuckled, ducking his head.  

“Oh, pish, you’re barely forty, and don’t look it.” 

He looked up at you from under his regal brow and you felt butterflies stirring in your chest. “And you are one of the most beautiful women who has ever stepped foot on Caladan.” 

You couldn’t help the blush that rose in your cheeks, “Are you flirting with me, Leto?” 

“Perhaps. You are my wife after all,” he smirked, standing from behind his desk and coming around it, offering his arm to you. “Would you like to walk with me? A proper tour of the grounds?” 

You accepted, resting your hand in the crook of his arm and subtly stroking his inner forearm. “And maybe we can stop in the training room?” 

His smirk widened into a smile and you were enchanted at the sight. “Whatever my wife desires.” 

[pazziville]

Can I Be Him — A Pazzi Fic

Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConn’s prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball star’s confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi.  Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latter’s self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware. With the next season around the corner and Paige’s newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?

CHAPTER 3.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

word count: 1,127

“You know you can’t just bribe me with a Shirley Temple and not explain your side of what happened earlier.” Azzi laughs at Paige’s way of getting her to speak up and communicate. She sure knows how to make the younger laugh and open up to her.

Azzi places down her drink and gives in, “I was jealous of you and Nika.”

Paige, shocked by Azzi’s confession, chokes on her drink. Azzi panics, standing up and getting behind Paige, then proceeding to hardly slap her back repeatedly as an attempt to ‘save’ the girl.

“Azzi what the hell are you doing?!” Paige’s face was red from choking and was even struggling to question Azzi’s action.

“Helping! What does it look like I’m doing?!” Azzi seemed offended Paige was even asking that question.

“Well, stop it! You’re making me choke even more!” Azzi lets out a low ‘oh’ in realization and scratches her head, “My bad, went a little overboard.” She apologizes and sits back down, now avoiding eye contact with the blonde.

Silence followed Paige’s choking incident, but she wouldn’t let Azzi not expound on what she just said a while ago.

“What did you mean when you said you were jealous of me and Nika?” Paige breaks the silence and Azzi’s face turns hot in an instant, something Paige was oblivious to but Azzi felt like she was literally in the Sahara while being in an airconditioned establishment.

“Azzi?” Paige noticed Azzi looked out of it, growing concerned.

The older girl stretches her arm and feels Azzi’s face. When Azzi flinches, Paige grips her arm tightly but not roughly, “Are you sick?”

“What? No?” Azzi answers with a short and fake laugh to break the tension she felt.

Paige had her hand on Azzi’s face longer than she should have, not even realizing that she has been longing for Azzi’s presence after an entire summer of not seeing each other because of Azzi spending more time with Parker. She sees Azzi’s intense stare at her and pulls back her hand, clears her throat, and recoups herself.

“How are things with you and Parker?” Paige’s questions catches Azzi off guard, making her uncomfortable, but she plays it off not wanting Paige to think she’s the one making her feel that way when in fact it was the mention of Parker.

Azzi takes a sip of her drink before answering, “He’s funny. Nice. Great at basketball.”

“Are you interested in him?” The blue eyed girl asks Azzi with softness written all over her eyes and at this point, Azzi knew they were eyes she wanted to keep seeing for the rest of her life. So, despite knowing the answer to the question deep inside her heart, she chooses to lie.

“I am.” Two words that were enough for Paige’s heart to drop. Yet, she loves the girl too much. Enough for her to choose to lie to herself if it was to make the girl happy. She gives Azzi a genuine smile, “That’s all I needed to know.” Paige wanted to say so much more, but it was all she could get herself to say.

She was in pain, but that didn’t matter because her best friend had finally found herself someone and what she felt didn’t matter. She should be happy for Azzi and she was trying. If it was for Azzi, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do.

Seeing how Paige was seemingly happy for her, Azzi thought it was the perfect time to explain herself and the incident regarding Paige and Nika earlier, “About Nika. Ice made me realize I was jealous of the fact Nika and you are starting to have the friendship we share. Which sort of aggravated me once I saw you were also starting to care for her the same way you care for me, leading me to say those words to you.”

Paige just listened to the girl carefully, her heart too heavy to even say a word.

“I’m sorry for what I said, Paige. I truly am sorry. You are not careless nor stupid. If anyone was at that moment, it was me and I just–” Azzi starts rambling out of guilt and as Paige recognizes it, cutting off the curly haired girl immediately, “Can you stand for me?”

“Huh?” Azzi, confused, doesn’t do what Paige asks of her. 

Paige is forced to leave her seat, walks up to Azzi’s side, gently grabbing her arm up for her to stand, and hugs her. She hugs her tightly and although the shorter one was puzzled, she hugs her back in the same intensity she was being hugged. Azzi craved Paige’s presence just as much as Paige craved Azzi’s, yet none of them knew that. But for a moment, their hug communicated the longing the two had for each other.

“Close or far. With me or without me. Even if you see me or you don’t. You’ll always have me as your best friend, Paige.” And that was it. Azzi’s words were enough for Paige to hug her tighter and make up her mind about moving on because in the end this was the extent of their relationship.

Azzi will never see you as more than her best friend and it would be unfair for her if you do. A tear falls from Paige’s eye and she sniffles as a result, making it known to Azzi that her best friend had gotten emotional, but when she attempts to check up on Paige by releasing herself from the girl’s embrace, Paige repositions her left arm to Azzi’s head, pushing it gently back to her shoulder.

“You’ll always have me as your best friend too, Azzi.” This time, it was Azzi’s turn to be teary eyed and bury her head deeper into Paige’s shoulder.

“Let me make it up to you. From now on I’ll be a better best friend.” Paige promises and Azzi wasn’t so sure if she even wanted Paige to fulfill it.

I don’t want you to. A thought that stayed in Azzi’s mind, unable to get past her tongue because she was too scared. Too caught up in the possible consequences. Too frightened she’d lose the best thing she’s ever had. 

I’m yours. Words that Paige always told Azzi and she always never knew what to say in response, but right now, she did, although it may have been too late. Paige Bueckers was the best Azzi Fudd’s ever had and she’s known it since forever, but has been too much of a coward to admit it. Not until now that she’s starting to lose the girl. Meanwhile for Paige, all the years of her asking herself the question ‘Can I be him?’ has finally been answered: She no longer can.

a/n: here's a sort of filler chapter. sorry to have kept those who anticipate updates waiting. hopefully everyone's doing well. much love. <3

[firewasabeast]

I’m gonna try to keep this short (oops I didn’t) and not focus solely on the fictional side of things, but it’s painfully obvious some of you have never had to deal with people who make you feel unsafe with being yourself. and, I mean, good for you! but that’s not everyone’s reality. I grew up in a very religious environment with so many “gerrard’s” (but, like, Christian versions which are worse) and there is no way I, to this day, would feel comfortable being myself around those people. I saw a post saying that tommy could have had what the 118 has now if he would’ve been a better person and that’s just… not true? Not while gerrard was in charge. And it’s clear that he was a better person by the time bobby came around. He joined in on those family dinners and was close to hen and chimney at that point but it just wasn’t where he was meant to be. Whether that’s because he wanted to be a pilot or because that place held too many bad memories, it’s clear he didn’t feel like he was meant to stick around there.

I know those posts mainly come from people who only want buck and eddie together and hate on anyone else, but it saddens me that some people don’t believe that you can change. I was a crappy person when I was younger. So judgmental, stuck to the Bible word for word, and hated so many people. I was old when I realized I myself was bisexual. I was old when I started doing my own research, making sure to clear the history on my computer because- even as an adult- I didn’t trust that my privacy wouldn’t be violated and my truth be found out. There were many times things were said around me where I should have spoke up, but I didn’t because sometimes you cannot safely do so and that is just reality!

I, to this day, am working through religious trauma and guilt and self hatred. There are still people in my family that I don’t feel safe around (distant relatives, thankfully), there are secrets I will hold with me until my mother has passed away (I love her, but she’s conservative so make of that what you will).

Anyway, I definitely did not keep this short, but I’m just trying to say I think Tommy’s storyline is very important for more than him being Buck’s first boyfriend. I was who Tommy was, I am who Tommy is, and I hope I’d get the forgiveness that chimney and hen showed to him instead of whatever it is I have seen on my dash today.

[simp4wom3n]

Embarrassed and Adorable

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request @the-night-owl-blr

Summary: After a day of relaxing together, Y/n mindlessly scrolls through TikTok as Jenna gets ready for bed, where to their amusement, they find Jenna’s old musical.lys. ~ Word Count: 889 ~ Warnings: none just very fluffy

A/N: Hi!! This one is a bit shorter than my others but hopefully you guys still like it. I’m getting a move on with the requests do not fear <3

It was times like these that you loved.  You and your girlfriend Jenna, both finally having days off work, lounged around the house all day refusing to leave each others side as you spent time together that you would typically spend far apart. You watched movies, you cuddled, you danced, you laughed, you baked. You did everything a girl could want, especially if it was with the love of you life.

Sadly, the day was slowly coming to an end. The subtle glow of the moon reflected through the windows of your bedroom, dimly lit by a lamp on your bedside table, where you lay on your shared bed, scrolling on TikTok as you waited for Jenna to getting ready for bed. You had only gone on the app to distract yourself from your girlfriend's brief absence, only to have that absence filled in in a way you weren’t expecting. While scrolling through your usual content, you came across a video of Jenna, but it wasn't one of the thirst traps or edits you'd seen so many times before; it was an old video of her from musical.ly. It was, in fact, her entire old account.

'No way,' you mumbled under your breath as your lips cracked into a warm smile. You couldn't help but chuckle at your discovery, filling the once quiet room with your laughter. “What’s so funny” you hear Jenna ask innocently from the bathroom. “Just TikTok” you snicker earning a hum in return. You were sure you'd be doubled over laughing if you weren't lying down on your stomach.

Scrolling through her videos, you were introduced to a younger Jenna who you regrettably never had the opportunity to meet. It felt like you were watching an entirely different person, one you were still very much in love with and makes you laugh harder than you ever had before. Some of them in particular made you laugh so hard that you gave up attempting to suppress your amusement. Jenna could hear the echo of your laughter from her place in front of the mirror, busy taking off her makeup. Jenna adored the sound of your laughter. The sound alone could brighten her mood instantly. Her adoration also meant that she was very curious at to what was causing the heavenly sound.

Dressed in only underwear and an oversized top - looking as beautiful as ever you might add - Jenna finally comes into the bedroom following the melodic sounds of your laugh. “Ok what on earth is so funny” shes questions looking at you amused, trying to at least hear what’s got you so entertained. She finally recognizes the sound playing repeatedly as she circles the room to her side of the bed to charge her phone, even though it wasn't what she expected.

“Is that one of the sounds from when musical.ly was a thing?” she chuckles brushing away the hair that framed her face as she tries to sneak a look at your phone. You quickly roll onto your back, hiding your screen on your chest, looking at her cheekily as she feigns offence. “Not just any musical.lys” you confess giving her a knowing look. After a few moment of her staring at you in confusion, you decide to help her out by turning your phone around so she can see.

Met with a video of her old self, Jenna’s mouth drops as she looks at you in horror, her cheeks ablaze as she tries to grab the phone from your hand. “Not happening” you giggle as retract your phone, dodging her hand and laughing at how adorable she looks when she’s embarrassed.

“Stop. Give me your phone. Y/n I swear…” she objects climbing on top of you whilst you just continue to laugh your head off. “Give me it” “Nuh uh” “Y/n I swear to god” “Come get it then”. She keeps tackling you and climbing all over you as the two of you roll around on the bed, your shared laughter reverberating off the walls. You manage to keep your phone away from her for a decent amount of time however you eventually give up trying to defend it as she straddles you and pins you to the bed.

She snatches it from your grip with a victorious smirk, “Never again” she giggles. You're so out of breath from laughing that you just lie there and stare at her, a huge grin on your face. Eventually craving more of her touch, you raise yourself to meet Jenna's eye level while she is still on top of you. You always admired her appearance just before bed. No makeup, no extravagant outfits, just Jenna. With a cheesy smile, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her back down onto the bed.

As she continues to lie on top of you, you gently take your phone from her hand and set it down on your nightstand before turning back to her. “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed” you whisper, your lip’s upturned in amusement as you place a small kiss on her head. “Shut up” she murmurs with a small chuckle into your chest as she snuggles closer. Turning off the lamp, you wrap your arms around her, exhaling in content as you stroke her back softly. “I love you” “I love you too”.

———————————————taglist——————————————

@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805

[two-white-butterflies]

Coaxed You Into Paradise - c. 1

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter One: Valyrian Necklace

Daemon Targaryen had lived a long life before Saera, though no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember it. There was no happiness in his memories of the battlefield, he cannot find it in the company of whores in Flea bottom.

It only took one glance in those light-purple eyes of hers, to understand that he has only found happiness at her hands. 

He continues watching her. Such a constellation, was she to him. Saera who had thin-pink lips, light-purple eyes and a gentle disposition. She was made for him. “Uncle,” she opened her mouth to speak, sitting down beside him. 

Wherever the Rogue Prince went, his princess was sure to follow. “Saera,” he answers with warmth in his tone. “I missed days like these, the warmth of the summer sun.” she leaned into the chair, allowing the sun to kiss her exposed skin. “I pray that winter has not chilled your heart, little dragon.” he was quick to respond. 

He could not stop himself from staring at her, staring at her exposed collarbone, and inhaling her scent of lavender and rosemary. 

“Did you come here to pester me again?” he raised an eyebrow, seemingly teasing her. 

“My kepa has forbidden me to ride Melarys. Mayhaps, you could talk some sense into him.” she pleaded. 

An amused chuckle escapes his mouth. She reminds him of his youth. 

“You’ve made the mistake of asking for his permission, and now you wish for me to mend your losses?” he delighted in her company. Daemon Targaryen was intimidating and self-serving, in the eyes of many people – but when he basked in the company of his little niece, he found himself unable to construct even the simplest of sentences. 

“You want me to rebel against the King’s orders?” she humored. 

Daemon answers with a shrug. He knew for certain that Saera was perfect, obedient and chaste, but those virtues wouldn’t save her. She needed to grow thick skin in order to survive her father’s court. “Do what you wish, Saera. There is not a place in this castle that is not welcome to you.” he defended himself. 

She pauses for a while, thinking about his advice. Mayhaps, she made the mistake of asking for her father’s permission indeed. “Come with me, Daemon.” she offered. 

— 

They both halted in front of the Dragonpit. 

Daemon smiles seeing happiness twinkle in Saera’s eyes. He’d kill anyone who tries to take that sparkle away. It was beautiful in his eyes – the caprice of youth. “Let’s race from here to your keep.” he offered, lifting his arms to pet Caraxes. 

“Arranging a match to lose? I wonder why the people of this court believe you to be a master strategist.” she taunted, doing the same with her dragon. 

Melarys has always been a beautiful little thing. Her wings and scales were pale white. She was the smallest dragon in all the lands, but whatever she lacked in scale was made up for with her speed. She was fast, faster than sound traveled, a normal man is unable to see her once she flew but the sound of her whistle always gave her spot away. 

“I would not have created this proposal if I didn’t stand a winning chance.” his lips pressed into a thin line, watching as the dragon keepers saddled their dragons. 

She rolled her eyes at his statement. 

He holds her jaw with his right hand. “Are you rolling your eyes at me?” he opened his mouth, and she smiled. “I’m not,” she lied, evading his gaze. 

“The winner shall win something.” he laid out, but his plan was already etched weeks in advance. He’s been meaning to give her this gift. “I hope that you prepared something, for I am the sure victor.”she says,  his cockiness rubbed off on her. 

He stares at her, a soft smile on his lips. 

“If you are certain, then give your sweet uncle a head start.” he chuckled, riding his dragon and patting him gently – prompting the dragon to light off the ground. 

Caraxes exits the Dragonkeep. 

He was alone in the skies for the first five minutes. The cold air and the warm sun kissed his figure. There was not a doubt in his heart that Saera and Melarys would be following him soon. 

Five minutes turned into ten. 

And then he hears whistling. 

“Cunt,” he mumbled, the whistle moving past him. He takes a deep breath, the whistle long being gone – and he is already left eating dust. He leans closer to Caraxes. “Everytime, Caraxes.” he whispered, the dragon roaring in reply. “You always let your lover win.” he grumbled. 

As a consolation, Caraxes moves much faster. 

But both of their efforts are wasted, because Melarys has already landed. 

Daemon fishes for the necklace inside his pocket. He sees the grassy field in his periphery. He was never bestowed upon the gift of perfect vision, and with his age – his sight has slightly deteriorated, but it didn’t matter. Even if he was blind, he’d still know the sound of her footsteps, even if he was dead, he could still be brought to life by the sound of her voice. 

He sees a small dot in the middle of the field. 

Saera, who was unamused with his defeat. 

Caraxes landed strongly, his claws creating horizontal lines on the grass. Saera looks up at him. “You lose again, uncle.” she taunted with a soft smirk, her arms were crossed, eyes giddy with excitement at the possibility of her uncle giving her another gift. 

“I intended for that to happen.” he reasoned, descending from his dragon. “Of course,” she bites her lower lip, walking closer until their bodies are mere inches apart. “My prize, please.” she reminded. 

Daemon pretended to look disappointed; a childish show of endearment. “Close your eyes,” he commanded. She held her palms out. Saera was spoiled by him, no doubt. He used to give her the most exotic presents, a scarf from Leng, a jade tiara made by the finest jewelers were a few examples of his devotion to her. 

His smile deepens, seeing that smile on her lips. 

He holds her hand, dropping the Valyrian necklace safely on her soft palms. 

She opens her eyes without instruction. She gasps at the beauty of his gift. “Kepus, thank you!” she whispers softly, always grateful no matter how big or small the gift was. “It was made for you, my dragon.” he started. 

“- do you know what it is made of?” he inquired, testing her knowledge with metals. 

“Valyrian Steel, but I don’t understand where the red rouge comes from?” she asked curiously, she raises her head – staring at him with doe eyes. “It is made from my blood, a reminder of our shared ancestry. Now turn around.” he commanded again, taking the necklace from her hands. 

She turns around, whisking her hair away from her nape. “It is beautiful.” she exaggerates, feeling the cold metal touch her neck. She could also feel his warm hands as he clasped the necklace together. “I promise to never take it off.” she vowed, turning around. “- I wouldn’t want you to.” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Her fingers danced until she was playing with the pendant of the necklace. Daemon found it beautiful, like a babe teething off their mother’s fingers. 

“If I had known that you’d give me such a lavish gift. I would’ve given you ten more minutes.” she giggled, wrapping her arms around him. Daemon welcomed her embrace, finding her warmth quenching his centuries’ cold. 

next part

taglist. @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @duhitzdae @schniiipsel@areaderinlove @Honeybeeandsea @i-yam-awesome @minaxcarter @ladystardvsts

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 1

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. I’m not good with synopses, so sorry about that.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister, when the world ended she had Lori, Carl and Shane. But did she really have them? Her brother was dead, her sister-in-law was sleeping with her brother’s best friend and her nephew was just a small kid. She had him, Daryl Dixon was no knight in a shining armor and she was no damsel in distress, but maybe they were exactly what each other needed.

*gif is not mine, credits on the gif.

Chapter 1: Vulnerable

Summary: Y/N sees something she wasn’t supposed to see, she need to vent about it but she can’t do it with Lori or Shane, because they are the main reason about it. So she goes to the woods hoping to find some peace.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, kinda angsty, a little bit of fluffy, comfort, mentions of death, mentions of violence

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with a lot of love.

Chapter 2

It was again one more boiling hot day in the Quarry near Atlanta, you thought the temperature would for sure kill you, but there was another thing threatening to take your life and it wasn’t a Zombie.

Before everything, before the world ended, life wasn’t easy. You wanted it to be, but you were living one of the worst moments of your life. You had just lost your job as a vet because you couldn’t save a rich man’s cat and he demanded that you were fired. You felt bad for the poor cat, for your lost job, for your name as a professional that was now forever marked and also for your dog a female German Shepherd called Luna that had to see you not acting like your usual self.

On top of that your older brother, Rick, got shot working… he was a Sheriff’s Deputy. That’s what made you stop feeling sorry for yourself, because you couldn’t. You needed to see your brother laying on a hospital bed in comma, you had to hold things together and take care of Carl and Lori.

Lori and Carl had you, but you had no one, Carl was just a kid and Lori couldn’t even take care of herself at the moment. There was Shane, he was like a brother to you, but even with him there… it was as if you were alone. You just had Luna.

You went to their house and stayed there, you were going to stay until Rick got better, yes, he was going to get better and you would stay just a little bit more to help during his recovery, and everything was going to be fine again. But it never was. The world ended. The dead were walking as if they were alive and Rick died.

Now you lived in a Quarry with Lori, Carl, Shane and a bunch of other survivors. Most of people were pleasant and easy to live with, the exception was Ed, Carol’s husband and Merle Dixon, Daryl’s brother, but this was the apocalypse and you don’t have much choice on the people that are going to be around you.

It had been almost two months since everything happened and the camp was created, almost two months your brother had died… and today, while you were picking some wood, you saw something that felt as if someone was pulling your guts out of your stomach and squeezing your heart.

Lori and Shane. Not Lori and Shane friendly doing what they usually do, they were in the middle of the forest, fucking, and there was no other word you’d use to describe it other than fucking. There wasn’t even two months Rick died, and his best friend and wife were fucking.

You felt nauseated, you went back the same direction you came and knew you had to do something to calm down. You couldn’t afford causing an scene or any uncomfortable situation, you could not hurt Carl.

“Hey! Aunt Y/N, did you already pick all the woods?” Carl shouted to you from the spot he was, playing with Sophia and Luna, Carol watching them.

“Er… wood wasn’t good that side, I’m going to the other side see if I find anything better.” You gave a lame excuse, you just wanted to be alone, cry all this shit out, in silence cause you didn’t want anyone to know and you didn’t want to attract any walkers near the camp.

“Can you look after them a little more, Carol?” You asked the woman, you were sure she was not going to say no, she loved being with the kids and even with Luna.

“Sure, don’t worry.” She said, you nodded and then walked to the opposite side from where you came the fastest as possible, looking down so others wouldn’t see you had started to cry.

You walked until you found a place far enough so no one would find you, but not so far that you would have any trouble. You had a gun and knife, you knew how to defend yourself, but you couldn’t make it easy to the dead to kill you, you were not that dumb.

You sat behind a tree, brought your knees to your chest and hid your face crying. Your thoughts were racing and all you could think was about what you saw, your brother and how you missed him. You listened to some light leaves hustle, but You didn’t give it importance, thinking it was probably the wind, it was so light that it couldn’t be a walker. So you continued minding your own business crying what you had to cry so you could look at your sister-in-law’s face without letting her know how upset you were.

“Ya shouldn’t be out here vulnerable like that” you jumped startled by the redneck’s voice. ‘So that was him,’ you thought, ‘of course, only he could walk with light steps, he was a hunter after all.’ You wiped your tears, not that it would help they were still falling and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop them.

“I’m not vulnerable, I just needed some time alone.” You answered, he was really trying to not be too rough on you given to your situation, but his lack of tact was something he had much difficulty to overcome.

“Ya could cry in your tent, it’s safer”

“I don’t wanna Carl and Lori to see me cry. I don’t wanna have to explain myself, things would get bad if I had to. I don’t wanna upset Carl.” You sniffed, that was one of the worst parts of crying, getting a damn runny nose.

“Shane can’t help?” He asked, you didn’t know but he probably already had some idea of the reason you were crying.

“He’s part of the problem Dixon, if I could I’d punch him and kick his balls” you answered, tears still running down but a little bit calmer.

“Did ya see him and…” he didn’t finish the question, because you completed it for him.

“Lori? Yeah”

Talking about them made you remember everything you saw and how it hurt you. You were still mourning Rick, and Shane and Lori apparently were already moving on. What hurt the most is that even mad at both of them, you still loved them. Lori was like a big sister, a sister that you wish you had while growing up, and Shane? He was your brother he taught you how to defend yourself, he gave you shooting classes, he brought you home the first time you got drunk and even took care of you while you were hangover. When Rick wasn’t there, he was. At this moment you hated him as much as you loved him.

“Do you know if anyone else know about them?” You asked after a long time, you were so lost that you didn’t even noticed that Daryl walked a bit ahead and stoped with his back turned to you. He wanted to give you privacy to cry, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, it was dangerous to you staying so vulnerable at the forest. He knew you could defend yourself, but you didn’t even listened him approaching, you sure were not going to listen to a walker too.

“I don’t know. Probably not. I’m much into the woods, so I caught them a few times.” He answered at distance, not turning to look back at you. “Do ya like him?” Daryl asked and right after he just regretted having opened his mouth, why would he ask such an intimate thing to you? He should just stay there and make sure you’d go back alive to the camp.

“Ew! No! He’s like a brother to me. We grew up together.” You answered disgusted to the idea of liking Shane any other way. “It’s not that. My brother, he died. Well, you probably know. And I know Lori needs to continue living and they are adults, but there’s not even 2 months and she moved on that fast and Shane… he was his best friend. I’m still mourning him, the world still doesn’t make any sense without him here and they are already fucking. I know I’m being selfish and emotional but…” you spoke so much that you had already lost your line of thought. Daryl was probably tired of you, he wasn’t one to talk much, but here you were opening all your thoughts to him.

“It’s about yer brother. Ya have the right to feel.” He understood, he had never lost his brother and he hoped he’d not lose him anytime soon. Merle was a dick, and he made him mad most of the time, but he was his brother, so he understood you.

You wiped your tears, calmer and ready to continue. You were still mad and sad about everything, but now you didn’t feel like you were going to die anymore, you were not suffocated. You got up, shook the dirt from your pants and approached the archer.

“I was going to take some wood for fire. I don’t want to go back empty handed. Can you help me?” Now you gave a look at him, and noticed he had some rabbits and squirrels hanging from a rope. He was being essential to maintain everyone fed, he was not one to be socializing around the camp, but he was good and you could see it.

He just nodded and started walking by your side collecting the good woods he found along the way. “Thank you.” You said collecting a branch that you saw.

“For what? I didn’t even take the woods to the camp.” Did he not understand or was he faking?

“Not about the woods. Well, that too… but thank you for staying with me and talk to me, you didn’t have to” ‘but you did’, you completed in your thoughts. “Also, thank you for always bringing us food. I don’t know if I ever told you that.” He grunted, sometimes you wish you could know what he was thinking, you never knew if his grunts mean something good or bad.

“No need to thank me” he never knew how to react at moments like that. Should he say thanks back? Should he give another compliment?

Soon you returned to the camp, he helped you put the woods near the makeshift kitchen and was going to clean the rabbits and squirrels so they could be cooked.

“Luna likes you” you said, you saw how your dog acted around him. He was a little surprised with the comment. “You can take her with you when you want, I see that you like her too.” You smiled, a beautiful one just as if you were not broken or had cried your soul an hour ago.

“She likes my food too” he joked, it was not intentional but after what he said he even got a little smile at the corner of his mouth for some seconds. You giggled before answering.

“I know, she makes the cutest puppy eyes. It’s not her fault if you can’t resist her charms.” He snorted and for some seconds, just few seconds, he thought that maybe she wasn’t the only one he couldn’t resist. As he went to clean the hunt, you went to Carol to say you got the wood and offer to take care of the kids while she started to prepare the food.

You couldn’t take that smile from your face and you didn’t were sure why, you ruffled Luna’s fur while you sat close to the kids and released the dog so she could run around a little. You hated having to let her tied, but you were too afraid of what could happen if she went too far. She ran around the camp and soon approached the archer he pet her and she made her happy tail dance to him, he looked in your direction and you smiled watching their interaction. Your day wasn’t lost, there was still good things to be grateful for, even in a world like this.

Final notes: Please tell me your thoughts. There is a long time I don’t write and publish fanfiction in English so I’d be glad to hear from you.

[askinkiskarma]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces. 

Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.

Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)

A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged &lt;;3

"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"

“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

“Lo’ak… be serious.”

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes. 

You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words. 

“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”

His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently. 

“But it is you. It has to be you.” 

“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.” 

You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self. 

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.” 

Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side. 

Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his. 

His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened. 

“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.

“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.” 

“What’s Cornelia Street?”

“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.” 

A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed. 

You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right. 

“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”

Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.

“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice. 

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.” 

Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it. 

“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”

Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win. 

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”

“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.” 

Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish. 

“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”

He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you. 

“What did you just say?” 

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.” 

“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.” 

Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was. 

He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew. 

“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?” 

“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.” 

“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response. 

You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway. 

You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go. 

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse. 

“You should leave, Neteyam.”

You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing. 

“No.” 

You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?” 

He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you. 

“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you. 

You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission. 

He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to. 

He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long. 

“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.” 

Fuck. 

Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply. 

“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.” 

You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention. 

“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.” 

Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died. 

His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.

“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”

You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools. 

“We need to talk, properly talk.” 

You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away. 

You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.

There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first. 

“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise. 

You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye. 

Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you. 

“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.” 

Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly. 

Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself. 

“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake. 

“How long?” Neteyam asked. 

“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared. 

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep. 

“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”

You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond. 

The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers. 

You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that. 

“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm. 

“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look. 

You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue. 

When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness. 

Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.

You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours. 

You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day. 

Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in. 

“I think you should be taking a break from this.”

“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”

“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.” 

You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went. 

“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”

You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod. 

It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime. 

You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life. 

“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.

Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?

Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently. 

Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did. 

“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”

You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi. 

You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”

Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own. 

“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”

“Did you tell her yet?” 

“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”

Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.

“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.” 

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.” 

Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”

“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.” 

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”

“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”

Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.” 

You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped. 

“He told you.”

“Yeah…” 

“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”

“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.” 

“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”

You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.

You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric. 

Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair. 

“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.” 

You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.

“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.” 

You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed. 

The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far. 

It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle. 

You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims. 

As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed. 

He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry. 

“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage. 

Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest. 

“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest. 

As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.

“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face. 

You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins. 

“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.” 

You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute. 

“Ok then, let’s dance.” 

Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.

He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done. 

You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support. 

Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs. 

He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.

“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!” 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying. 

You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight. 

These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it. 

“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”

The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids. 

As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm. 

“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.” 

He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.

“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”

You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further. 

“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”

He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained. 

“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it. 

“Yes, please.” 

You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore. 

“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there. 

“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled. 

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.” 

It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @k----a27s

[astermath]

sweet like you🍓pt. 2

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen helps you out with perfecting your pastries to present them to your boss. you spend time getting to know each other in the place he knows best; the kitchen. things take a slight turn when you get back to your apartment.

word count: 3.1K

PART 1

notes: I really enjoy writing carmen tbh, I guess writing him is my way to giving his character some peace outside of his usually extremely stressful life. this got suuuper long im so sorry sdfgshj i got kinda carried away.  let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

warnings: mentions of suicide/death, addiction, use of alcohol, cursing

Carmen hated nights.

At least during the day, he was forced to do things, be productive, talk to people, keep his mind occupied. But at night, it was just him. Alone with his thoughts. The only thing keeping him company his cynical mind and deranged dreams.

That night was no different.

Carmen woke up in a cold sweat, hand clutching at his chest as he sat up. He nearly gasped for air, and upon noticing how shaky he was, got up to splash his face with cold water. That didn’t help much either, so he went to his balcony (if one could even call it that), and lit a cigarette. The sun was already coming up, and he knew he wasn’t getting much sleep again feeling like this.

He sighed, smoke emitting from his nose as he pulled out his phone. You’d replied already, even given a time. Reading your words made him feel slightly more at ease, slightly more... Real. A reminder of his obligations to the people around him, but also, and he’d never admit this, something to look forward to.

[carmen]: absolutely, see you then

Your next shift went by smoothly, as per usual. The French themed café you worked at had become such a big part of your life, not that you minded, you were in love with it. And as much as she’d deny it, you could tell the owner had taken a liking to you. You heard from the barista that most waitresses would get fired within a month or so, but you’d stuck around for three now. 

“She said you have a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’... I think you remind her of her younger self.” Your colleague said while pouring out a cup of coffee. 

“Right,” you took a tray and readied another order. “You sure you didn’t imagine that? I don’t remember Odette ever saying something nice to me before.”

“Not to your face, no.” She grinned, putting the cup on your tray. “I’m sure you’ll get her to put some of your stuff on the menu, she just has to warm up to it.”

“Yeah, just,” you grabbed the tray, balancing it with ease. “Give me a few decades to work her through that.” You both chuckled as you walked off to continue your work.

Carmen stood across the street, looking through the window of the café. Shit, he was way too early, and that wasn’t even usually like him. He’d left the Beef over to Sydney while he was gone, telling her he had something important to take care of. And although that wasn’t entirely untrue, he wasn’t sure she’d agree if she found out he was hanging out at some café.

He slipped into the place rather sneakily, deciding that if he was gonna have to wait, he might as well do it in there. It had been a while since he’d been inside, usually just to get a quick coffee or something, and he’d never paid much attention to the décor before. He was kind of impressed, despite being smack dab in the middle of Chicago, the café had a true Parisian feel too it. Sure, he’d never been to Paris, but he could imagine this was pretty close.

He sat down at a booth near a window and stared outside. He felt a bit uneasy just... waiting. There were so many things he still had to do, so many debts to pay off, things to consider, to change--

“Carmen? Is that you?” 

Your voice snapped him out his train of thoughts, it almost felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through a dark cloud. He turned and saw you holding a menu, dressed in a cute dress and an apron. 

“Yeah, I uh... Got here a bit too early, my bad.” He gave an apologetic, halfhearted smile. 

“It’s no worries,” you handed him the menu. “You can just enjoy a coffee or something while you wait! What would you like?” You pulled out a notepad and a pen.

“Oh, uh... Christ...” His eyes squinted as he scanned the laminated menu. “Am I goin’ crazy or is this all in French?”

“Nope,” You chuckled. “It is. When I told you the menu hadn’t changed, I meant really, nothing has changed.”

“Fuck, alright, uhm... Just a regular coffee then.” He handed the menu back. “Please.”

“Comin’ right up!” You chirped, and he watched you make your merry way back into the kitchen. He could’ve sworn you damn near floated by how excited you seemed. He didn’t really understand it. You worked a waitress job where you weren’t allowed to change anything, you had to work early on Saturdays to help your family out and he could have guessed you probably still had time to maintain a healthy social life. It almost annoyed him how well balanced you seemed.

But someone as cute as you couldn’t possibly annoy him. 

He received his coffee not long after, thanking you and admiring the porcelain for a moment. The more he noticed about this place, the more... Uneasy he felt. He didn’t realize why, and he kept mulling it over until long after he’d finished his drink.

Ah.

Because the Beef looked like a garbage dump compared to this.

And he owned that garbage dump.

He hated himself a little for comparing the two, they weren’t comparable at all besides both serving food and drinks, but the fact that you were only two blocks away didn’t help. And he was about to be helping you too, his competition.

The crew would kill him if they knew where he was at.

You worked on closing up, cleaning a few last cups and arranging them neatly before walking back to Carmen’s table. “Hope you enjoyed your coffee my good sir, but I must request you to join me in the kitchen, for I have prepared a mighty array of desserts for thou.” You grinned.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He got up, ready to follow. “Don’t I gotta pay for that coffee?”

“S’on the house. Come on, we’ve got pastries to try!”

The kitchen closely resembled the rest of the establishment, although much more homely. It was small, doable, but just a little cramped. 

You pulled out two stools for the two of you to sit on, before going to the fridge and taking out a tray. “Alright, so...” You put it down on the counter. “Here we’ve got classic cheesecake with a cinnamon cookie crust,” you pointed at each dessert, “a cream strawberry tart, and last but not least,” your fingers fluttered in a ‘jazz hands’ way, “tiramisu topped with fresh strawberries.”

Carmen scanned the tray before him. The presentation was immaculate, but he found that often with these types of desserts the looks were better than the taste. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

You sat across him, more nervous than you initially expected to be, as he tried each of the desserts. He had some notes about each one, as expected, you were just an amateur cook, but you could tell his eyes lit up a little when he tried the tiramisu. 

“Mm,” He hummed, putting his spoon back in for another bite. “Shit, that’s fire chef...”

“Chef?” You raised an eyebrow. No one had ever called you that before.

“Sorry,” He swallowed, “Freudian slip, my bad.”

You chuckled. “No, no, I don’t mind... The tiramisu is a family recipe, actually. My nana used to make it all the time.” A nostalgic smile graced your face. 

“Those are usually the best.” He thinks back at the food him and Mikey used to make when they were younger, and somehow, it makes the tiramisu taste even better. “So, anything else you wanna add?”

“Oh!” You were a little caught off guard by his question. “Uhm, well... Now that you mention it, I’d love to add macarons, to play into the French theme of the café. I’ve just never been able to get them right, and trust me, I’ve tried.”

Carmen puts away the empty glass cup. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Huh?” You were sure you misunderstood at first, but the look he gave you was telling you he was at least expecting an answer. “Uh... Sure, yeah! I’d love to! I think we still have all the ingredients here from my last attempt too.”

“Great.” He got up, clasping his hands together. “Let’s get to bakin’, chef.”

The two of you stood next to each other at the counter. His jacket was off, now replaced with a baby pink frilly apron, supposedly the only one you had. You’d been relatively quiet, mostly focusing on taking his advice and following instructions. But as he was sifting almond powder, and you were beating egg whites, he had this strange urge to fill the silence. It was weird, usually he preferred working quietly, but it was almost strange to hear you not talking when you were there.

“So... You’re not from Chicago, are you?” He kept his eyes on the sifter.

You grinned, still whisking away. “What gave it away?”

“You smile a lot,” he took the bowl from you and held it upside down to check the consistency of the egg whites, “and I haven’t seen you light a single cigarette.” He put the bowl back and started weighing off some sugar. “So either you’re not from here, or I want whatever drugs you’re taking.”

You chuckled at his remark, finding his self deprecating humor quite amusing. “No, you’re right. I grew up on my parents’ farm, though it’s not too far from here, I never really came close to the city. Moved here about three months ago, so I haven’t explored much.” You took the sugar from him and gradually started adding it to the egg whites. “What about you? Born and raised?”

“What gave it away?” He joked back. “Born, raised, moved away for culinary school, worked in New York, now I’m back.” He sighed. Being back in Chicago was... Strange. Because after not having seen his brother for literal years, he was now constantly confronted with everything that reminded him of Mikey. Including his business.

“Interesting.” You started working together the mixture, sneaking glances at his face every now and then to gage his reaction. “So... What brought you back?”

A longer silence followed your question, and you could tell his hands even stopped moving for a moment. Suddenly he seemed tense, and you worried if your question had struck a cord. 

He swallowed, eyes fixated on the ingredients before him. “My brother.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure he’s happy to see you back.” You offered a kind smile.

“Yeah, I uh... I’m not sure he would be.” He glanced at you, eyes quickly darting back to the vanilla extract he was measuring out, uncomfortable with eye contact when he talked about Mikey. “He died.” His eyebrow twitched slightly. “Suicide.”

You stop whisking for a moment to look at him, and you can tell his face had reddened. You feel awful for pressing him on such a sensitive subject, but you had no idea.

The two of you continue to prepare the batter in complete silence for a good minute. Both of you feel bad. Him, for dumping this information on you, and you, for even asking about it.

“I’m sorry,” you speak up, filling up a piping bag with batter, “I had no idea.”

“S’okay,” He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous tic, almost. “I’ve been trying to talk more about it. Especially since I kinda run his business now.”

“Well, if it counts for anything,” You give him another sweet smile, and this time, it does actually make him feel a little better. Silently, he wished they could put the feeling your smiles gave in pills, so he could take those instead. “I think he’d be proud of you.”

He doesn’t reply. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know if he agrees. He doesn’t know what Mikey would think, and from what he’s heard from Richie, he’s not even sure if he would recognize the person his brother had become through his addiction. But the possibility is there, and you reminding him of it was enough. For now, at least.

He noticed you struggling with the piping bag and got behind you, hands sneaking over yours to help you hold it correctly. “There we go.”

Carmen doesn’t seem to notice how close he is to you. Or how warm your face had gotten. Or how the way he smelled was distracting you from listening to what he was saying. Cigarettes, coffee and sandalwood... A strange, but not unappealing mix of scents. 

You turn your head just a slight bit and catch a glimpse of his blue eyes. They were so bright, piercing almost, but they held such a profound sadness behind them. You wondered what else they held, what other stories he struggled to talk about.

Carmen noticed you weren’t watching what you were doing and looked up, accidentally meeting your eyes now. And then he realized how close he was, cheeks growing flushed like a teenage boy as he let go of your hands and took a step back, clearing his throat. “Shit, uh... My bad.”

You chuckled nervously. “It’s fine, I appreciate the help.” You leaned down to preheat the oven.

“Yeah… Anytime.”

A while after, the two of you were presented with perfect, pink tinted macarons. You smile proudly, hands on your hips as you admire the final product in front of you. “Man, we really nailed those, huh?”

Carmen smiles, a little sleepily. It was starting to get dark outside and he hadn’t even had dinner yet, but he felt bad about having to interrupt your baking session. Usually when he was in the kitchen he was focused, collected, he was making a product that he had to be proud of. But he’d been open to you, he’d laughed, he almost felt… Relaxed. Maybe that’s why he was feeling sleepy.

That, or the insane lack of sleep was catching up to him once more.

You looked outside and noticed that the sun was going down. “Shit, how long have we been here?” You checked the time on your phone. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I had no idea it already got this late... Uh, if you want I’ll drive you home?”

“Yeah, that would be--” His sentence got cut off by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment as Carmen put a hand over his abdomen, clearing his throat, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I uh... I haven’t eaten anything today besides those desserts earlier.”

Now you really felt guilty. Not only had you kept him at the café for way longer than you should have, but you were nearly making the poor guy starve. “Tell ya what,” You handed him his jacket and took off your apron. “How ‘bout you come back to my apartment and I’ll make us both dinner. I’m no expert chef like you, but I can cook a mean pasta!”

He hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t been to someone else’s apartment in so long, let alone someone he was interested in. But he supposed it was better than being alone in his apartment again, probably heating up a shitty frozen meal because he was too tired to cook.

Your apartment was nice. Well, nicer than his at least, although that probably didn’t mean much. For only having lived there for three months, he could tell you’d really added your own touch to the place.

“Welcome to mi casa!” You playfully bowed, allowing him to enter and closing the door behind you two. You tossed your keys onto the counter and took off your coat, ready to get to cooking. “You can settle on the couch, put something on, I got Netflix if you want. I’ll have dinner made in just a sec!”

Carmen moved with caution. This was... Unknown territory. He knew you were probably just being friendly, but this was a pretty big step for him. He had his boundaries, his walls firmly set, and you were jumping over them like it was nothing. It was just... Easier with you, somehow. To open up, to talk.

Not long after he’d chosen something to watch, you arrived with two deep plates of pesto pasta with mozzarella and diced tomatoes. “There we go, I always make this when I don’t feel like cooking.” You handed him a plate and a fork, before settling down next to him. Your couch wasn’t that big, so your shoulders were touching the entire time.

The two of you were watching a cooking competition, something you didn’t realize would revitalize Carmen so much. Not because he liked it so much, but because he was so focused on the mistakes the contestants were making, and felt the need to point every single one of them out to you. Your two plates stood empty on the coffee table, along with a bottle of red wine and two, very empty glasses. 

“Now, see this,” he pointed at the TV, “can’t believe they’re even allowed to air this, this is a disgrace to cooking. The fuckin’ idiot hasn’t touched a single spice this entire episode!”

The both of you were both kind of tipsy, and you were leaning against him now, smiling to yourself as you tried to withhold laughter from every serious comment he made.

“And now--” He looked at you and realized you were hanging on for dear life not to break out in giggles. “What’s so funny?” He asked with a grin.

“N-Nothing, nothing!” You chuckled, leaning away from him so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“Ah, so now we’re shy!” He poked your side, the wine doing wonders for his confidence. “Come on, let’s hear those laughs then!” He continued poking you, and you couldn’t take it anymore, the ticklish sensation making you squirm. You grabbed his arm and pulled it away from your abdomen, making him fall forward onto the couch. He caught himself, hand resting on the armrest, now leaning over you.

You looked up at him, and god, maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you swore he’d never looked hotter. Leaned over you, curls framing his face, strong arms surrounding you. His gorgeous blue eyes staring down into yours, tension growing between the two of you.

So you couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned up, capturing his lips in yours, a hand coming up to rest on the back of his head to pull him in further.

He froze, eyes only fluttering shut after a few seconds, melting into the kiss as his hand came down to rest on your waist. His mind ran blank, nothing plaguing his mind anymore, all besides one thought;

“Damn. She tastes even sweeter than those strawberries.”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar   @spr3id   @deadandstill  

[corinthianism]

labyrinth | peter parker

pairing: peter parker (andrew garfield)/gn!reader additional tags: fluff, meet cute warnings: referenced character death (gwen), angst

summary: peter finds love again nearly a decade since gwen's death. note: this is like. a brain fart. i barely proofread this so like i'm just gonna HOPE it's not complete ass. happy reading!

The air was already biting cold in November. Peter had been sitting on the same bench for about an hour now, orange leaves clinging to his coat. Every so often, he would break out of his trance to brush them off. Gwen had gotten it for him on their first Valentine’s Day together after she saw him wearing one of his uncle’s old ones. She joked about how it made him look like he was hiding little packets of crack in his pocket. His lips twitched into a smile before he inhaled deeply, trying to remember the sound of her laugh. The real sound of her laugh, not the one that crackles through the speakers of his old laptop whenever he missed her. It’s been that long. He was always terrified he’d forget her: how her eyes twinkled when she learned something new, how her hair always seemed to be perfectly in place, or how her scent took over his room after every visit.

There were days when he couldn’t even get out of bed, too consumed by his grief to move a muscle. On the flip side, there were days when he could feel like himself again. Days where he allowed himself to smile and just be the nerd he’d always been. He knew it was what Gwen would’ve wanted. By some miracle, it was what she fell in love with. She loved Peter Parker and that was the only reason he had to not lose himself as Spider-Man. Despite it all, he found it got easier with time. It was easier to live with himself now. It was easier to accept that it wasn’t his fault. Four years has passed since her death and he was just barely accepting it still, but it didn’t hurt so much anymore.

It was rare for him to have the time to just go out and enjoy what the city had to offer. New York could be a real piece of work: that was evident from just how much Spider-Man had to deal with in the past few months, but it was home. Central Park was a place he hadn’t visited in a while, so he tried to not dwell in his thoughts too much and enjoy the rare opportunity. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to do but people-watch, but it was a nice change of pace for Peter. With how hectic things were at work on top of his responsibilities as a vigilante, he was exhausted. He was tired of being Peter Parker. It was nice to just be invisible for once. 

He snorted. If middle-school Peter heard that, he would’ve been firmly smacked on the head by his younger self. He always wanted to fit in with the cool kids back then. He achieved that to some degree. Sure, he was more well-known as a dweeb rather than a cool guy, but he was still well-known. Even now, he realized his desires didn’t change all that much. It’s just that this time, he wished he could have a house and a dog and a proper job and be friends with normal people. Instead, he was still renting an apartment in a less-than-ideal part of town that he could barely keep. Before he could slip further into his self-deprecation, he was pulled away from his thoughts by something sitting next to him. On his right was a puppy, no more than a year old, slobbering all over the bench with a bright green ball in its mouth. Peter could only stare at it before the puppy carefully placed the wet ball on his lap, urging him to throw it. Before he could do anything, you jogged up to them and picked up both the dog and the ball.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately!” your eyes wandered down to the wet patch on Peter’s thigh where the ball used to be. “God, you don’t have somewhere to be, do you? I’m really, really sorry!” 

You were really jittery. That was the only word Peter could think of to describe you. You didn’t know where to put your hands: between holding the happy pup, the ball with said pup’s drool all over it, or trying to introduce yourself to the man your dog decided was “the chosen one”, Peter was pretty entertained. Then he felt bad. 

“It’s no problem really,” he reassured you before pointing to the troublemaker in your arms fondly. “You’ve got a cute puppy. Too bad I didn’t get to throw the ball though.”

The sigh of relief you let out must’ve been cartoony because you swore you saw him smile, then he stood up and handed you a handkerchief. You looked at it for a few moments before accepting it with your one wet free hand gratefully. He remembered thinking at the time that you looked so welcoming. Like a friend you can always talk to even if you haven’t seen each other in a while. It might’ve been his senses messing with him, but the air felt clearer then. Your arrival cleared a fog in his mind, and he didn’t even know your name. So he told you his instead, his gloved hand touching yours for the first time in what seemed to be just a polite handshake. Looking back on it now, perhaps that was the first sign. 

You told him your name, trying not to stare at the man in front of you. His eyes were so… kind. They were big and round and full of wonder, maybe a little dampened by age. Kind but tired. They should’ve been just as average as any other set of eyes you’ve seen, but when the sunlight hit them just right, it reminded you of swirls of honey. The rest of him surely didn’t disappoint. Maybe a few seconds in, you realized you must’ve been gawking at him, so you said your goodbyes and tried to forget about it on the way home.

Not that you could, but he couldn’t either. 

A couple of weeks had passed. His patrols happened less often now with him working so much during the day. Between the bills and the pressure of being a functioning adult, Peter found it difficult to keep his head above water. He stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror he got from May’s old stuff. He was older. He was sadder. The suit still fit as well as it could, but squeezing into it was more of a chore now than an exciting flipping-of-the-switch into his alter-ego. His hands shook, if only for a moment, before he pulled down the mask over his head. The fire escape creaked under his weight before bouncing back into place as Spider-Man finally leaped off and swung into the night.

“It’s just another patrol,” he reminded himself. “You get this done and you can get some sleep.” 

It must’ve been two hours into his patrol when he heard you. His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. Before he could even register what was happening, his body was already swinging its way to you.

“Sherlock!” you called out. “Sherlock! Where are you?”

This was impossible. You loved your dog to bits but you’d think he’d think twice before dashing away from you at the slightest rustle of a bush.

“You need some help?” a voice came from behind you.

You jumped and swung your fist at whoever it was. Peter managed to narrowly avoid your sucker punch so he stepped back and held up his hands, in fear of freaking you out even more.

“WOAH! Woah, woah, hey…” he tried to calm you down, his actions about as frantic as your own. “I’m Spider-Man! I’m here to help!”

Red and blue spandex. Wide white lenses. Your mind finally processed what was going on in front of you. Spider-Man was here. 

Holy shit, Spider-Man was here.

Once again, you were apologizing to him. Not that you would ever know that it was the same person. You explained that you were trying to find your dog, and he listened. He clung to your every word, whether he meant to or not. That same fog in his head cleared up and soon he found himself engaging in easy conversation with you as you both searched the neighborhood for your dog. He felt light, like this was the simplest thing ever. Why was it so easy to be with you?

How long has it been since he was in the company of someone other than May? Someone who wasn’t from Midtown High who would awkwardly comment on how different he looked. Someone who wasn’t from the Bugle who would sneer at him every time he messed up because he was exhausted. How long has it been since he spent time with somebody who could get to know him the way normal people did? 

He tried to shake off these thoughts. Who said anything about the two of you getting to know each other anyway? Peter looked back at you from the dark alleyway. You were on the opposite side of the street from him, hellbent on finding Sherlock. A happy bark echoed from his side of the street. The puppy he once could’ve scooped up with one arm was now thrice the size of what it used to be. Sherlock stopped to smell Peter. The dog barked once again, as if to say “Hi, I remember you!”, and then ran back to you before you could burst into tears of frustration.

For a minute or two, Peter stayed just to watch. You were so gentle with your pup, so genuinely concerned for its wellbeing that it struck something inside of him. With how long he’s been Spider-Man and how much he lost as a consequence of it, he often forgot that people like you still existed. He forgot that there were still good people in this world, people who would do the same thing he did if they were the ones bitten by a radioactive spider. People that would help a tourist get to their hotel safely, reunite a mother with their child or, like you, spend the rest of the night looking for their dog in the freezing cold. 

Peter tried to leave as soon as he could because there was something about you he couldn’t quite figure out and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like not knowing what it was about you that rekindled a flame in him he thought he’d lost. You didn’t even get a chance to thank him properly. He shot one web after another and then it was back to work.

Your voice and Sherlock’s cheerful barks echoed after him, “Thank you, Spider-Man!” 

He felt himself smiling underneath the mask. Even if it was just for that night, he felt like the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man again. For you, the walk home was peaceful, even with the ever-present noise of the city in the background, but you felt safe. Since that first meeting with the masked hero, you’d feel that someone was watching you every now and then… and you knew exactly who it was. It was always a blip of red and blue in your peripheral, but it was more than enough. 

In February, you got laid off from your job. You’d seen it coming but that didn’t mean it still wasn’t a complete pain in the ass. You just turned up to work, got handed your box of stuff, and sent on your way. It all happened so fast. Next thing you knew, you were sitting in some dingy old bar, your box of stuff forgotten in the trunk of your car while you nursed your drink. Some guy took a seat a couple of stools away from you, huffing as he rested his head on the counter.

It took you a while to recognize him.

“Hey! We’ve met before… Peter, right?” 

Peter sat upright then, an awkward smile adorning his face as he turned to you. He stopped himself from speaking right away. After all, you met him once. He met you twice, both as himself and Spider-Man. He had to keep that in mind. 

“Oh, uh, yeah! From Central Park?”

You laughed, “Yeah. From Central Park.”

There it was again. The ease of the conversation. The natural flow of your back and forth banter. He couldn’t tell if it was just you or his heart finally giving in after years of self-isolation that brought about this sense of calm, but he was grateful for it all the same. You told him about what just happened earlier that day and… something pushed Peter to just take one more step into the deep end.

“You could come work at the Bugle,” he blurted out. Fuck. You’re so stupid, Peter.

“What? The Daily Bugle? The newspaper?” you repeated in disbelief, all of your attention now on him as you shifted in your seat. It was overwhelming. Why was it so overwhelming? This was only the third time he’s talked to you!

Maybe it was liquid courage, but he found himself nodding and just going down the rabbit hole of trying to convince you to apply, “I mean, you’ve been at that company for how many years? And I heard they don’t just hire anyone, too. If anyone could land a spot at the Bugle, it’s you,”—he grinned and put on an accent—”mi amigo.”

You stared at him, perplexed. Then, a smile. You were his friend.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled back, trying to hold back the hope blooming in his chest. “I guess… I’ll be seeing you again soon?” 

You wasted no time writing down your number on a piece of tissue and sliding it over to him, “You bet, Parker.”

In the safety of his one-bedroom apartment, Peter smiled at the messy line of numbers you scrawled on the two-ply tissue. He called you the day after, eagerly telling you abut what life at the Bugle was like. In true Spidey fashion, he was honest about it. His horror stories of his boss didn’t seem to faze you at all. In fact, it only made you more determined to apply and prove yourself. He admired that.

One call became two, and two became three. And one after that… and another after that. That wasn’t counting the daily texting that ensued in between. Peter found himself looking forward to your texts in the morning, when he finally fixed his sleep schedule just enough to wake up before his alarm started blaring. By the time you were officially an employee of the Daily Bugle, he couldn’t contain his excitement. 

It was exhilirating to not be alone anymore. It was even better when he realized your cubicle was just right next to his. Peter made it his mission to ensure your work experience was a fun and pleasant one. It was so unequivocally him to do something like that. Each gesture started out small: he decorated your desk with two succulents when you started out. After a while, he would leave candy on top of your paperwork while you went to the bathroom. He always denied this. Then there were the sticky notes.

Peter didn’t come to work regularly, he was juggling two other freelance jobs most of the time but he always, without fail, managed to leave a sticky note on your computer if he wasn’t going to be around the next day. Like his other acts of kindness, these started small too. Imagining him hunched over a desk and writing these notes just for you made you more flustered than you could even begin to admit.

“Don’t forget to eat!”

“You’re doing such a good job :)”

“YOU’RE SO AWESOME!!! >:D”

But your favorite, favorite one, the one you kept safe in your phone case, was the note he left when you finished some of his paperwork for him. The two of you never spoke about the notes he left, both too scared to ruin the comfortable dynamic you’ve created. The very next morning, that familiar bright yellow poked out from in between the stacks of paper on your desk. You remembered the warmth you felt as you read his words. Something about his handwriting only intensified that.

“My hero :D Tell me how to make it up to you, you beautiful human being,” followed by a doodle of you in a Spider-Man costume. 

One day, when he’s ready, maybe Peter would tell you how you saved a life just because you finished his work for him. In your own act of kindness, you allowed him to start his patrol earlier and save a teenage girl from getting mugged, or worse. When you invited him over to your house that weekend and saw the angry bruise on on his cheekbone, he let you tend to the cuts that were littered all over his body. He let himself bask in your gentleness and care and sweetness and everything that made you, you. You asked him if he got attacked. He shook his head and ignored the sting of the hydrogen peroxide. 

“I fell into some bushes while hiking. Turns out it had thorns,” he lied. Lying to you didn’t feel great.

Instead of prying any further, you laughed and told him to be more careful. He could’ve sworn the room felt brighter then. 

In June, May came over to his apartment to drop off some good homemade food; something she was sure he had gone far too long without, since his culinary taste consisted solely of instant noodles and microwaveable meals. The TV hummed in the background as the older woman made some small talk with her nephew. The realization that he was no longer a little boy dawned on her. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, but it was a hard pill to swallow. May saw how tired and beaten down he was, especially after Gwen’s death, and it wasn’t until recently that she noticed a change in the young man. The stubble he always forgot to shave was nowhere to be seen, his unkempt hair finally trimmed into a manageable shape, and his eyes were brighter. He was still tired, but he was happy. For a brief moment, she saw the little boy she used to bathe and sing to before bed. 

Peter was too busy munching on the chicken casserole she prepared to see his aunt smiling at him. Finally, she decided to speak up.

“Who is it, Peter?”

He looked up, not expecting the question, “Who’s what?”

“Who’s making you happy?” 

Peter thought about it for a while, not sure if the answer he’ll give was actually the right one to describe what had transpired these last few months, “I made a friend, I guess. They’re really nice and uh… they just started working for the Bugle. So. I see them more often.”

May nodded, a content smile on her face as she processed the information. A coworker. A friend.

“Tell me about them, they seem nice.”

Peter hesitated for a second, only to be reminded of your face and your bad jokes and your dog. Nice was an understatement. You were amazing.

“They are. Nice, I mean. We just sort of ran into each other at Central Park and then I saw them again a couple of months later and I recognized them. They’re… they make me feel comfortable. Appreciated, you know? I haven’t had somebody to talk to like this since—” he stopped. 

Since. 

Since Gwen.

In the time Peter’s known you, not once did he think about her. Then that horrible sinking feeling in his gut came. Years of falling and learning how to get back up went down the drain because he was reminded once again of what he lost. His thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, all of them connecting back to that one fact that he was sure would haunt him forever: Gwen Stacy was dead and she would stay dead and Peter couldn’t do anything about that, no matter how much he wished he could. Somewhere, deep down, a part of him never really grew up. How could he? What gave him the right to live the life he wanted when she couldn’t live hers because he couldn’t catch her?

Then you came into his life and pulled him out of his self-imposed exile. All at once, it was you flooding his senses and you weren’t even there. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

May could only watch her nephew go through a whole lifetime’s worth of pain all over again. In a flash, he was gone. May Parker was alone.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to leave his apartment. He couldn’t bear to let May see him like that again. He couldn’t… It felt too much like the first time. It felt too much like losing his uncle and his girlfriend. He didn’t want to relive it. New York’s skies were painted pink and orange as the sun began to set, but all he could think about was getting away. His feet simply walked and walked and walked, his mind in a haze until finally, finally, he stopped at the headstone that haunted him for so long.

Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy

Beloved daughter and friend

March 2, 1996 - July 2014

A breath he didn’t know he was holding in escaped him. It had been nearly a decade since she died. She would’ve been twenty-seven. The air felt colder somehow, but Peter, even with his scientific mind, wanted to believe that she was there with him in that moment. He wanted to believe that Gwen Stacy never truly left. It was true, in a way. It was Peter that kept her alive, even if it was only in memory. 

“Gwen, help me out,” he whispered. “Help me out, please. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He struggled to keep his composure.

“I met someone, Gwen. It was an accident. Their dog was all over the place and for some reason, he chose me. Gave me his ball to throw. And then they came along and GOD! They’re just— They’ve been nothing but kind to me, but I just can’t… I can’t do that to you. Never to you. And I know what you would say and how I’m an idiot but,” his voice wavered. “How can I ever look at anybody else the way I looked at you?”

Soft footsteps came from behind him.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” May placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can’t look at anybody that way you did Gwen. What you had with her was special. It was you and her, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start something new. Something entirely different and just as special. You know this is what she would’ve wanted for you, why would you deny her that, Peter?”

The dam broke. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

May held him tight. She didn’t know how long she stayed there in the cold with Peter, but the moment that little boy was left on her doorstep, she knew she would do anything for him. No longer was he little, but he was her boy, and he always will be. If she had to rub circles on his back for as long as he needed to pour his heart out to the world, she would do it. So she did.

You didn’t hear from Peter for the next few days. He always managed to evade you at work and when you did see him, he avoided your gaze and left as soon as he could instead of hanging around to chat about random stuff like he always did. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Peter was probably your first true friend in this city. He looked out for you in ways nobody ever bothered to, even people you’ve known your whole life. Peter Parker was your friend and you were determined to get to the heart of the problem and fix it.

Miraculously, you caught him just as he was about to leave the lobby. Hearing his name from your lips stopped him in his tracks, so he turned around to face you. You knew what he was going to say. It was going to be another excuse to leave and not talk to you.

“Oh, hey!” he greeted lamely. “Look, I can’t stay around for too long, I have to—”

“Cut the shit, Parker,” you hissed. If it came out harsher than you intended, you didn’t care. You deserved to know whatever it was that made him start avoiding you like the plague. “What’s going on with you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s definitely something!”

He was caught. With nothing else up his sleeves, he pleaded quietly, “Not here. I’ll tell you, I promise, I just… Not here.”

A couple of hours later, you were face to face with his door. You hesitated to knock and as if on cue, Peter opened the door with a tired smile. His hair was damp and he was dressed in a shirt much too large for him and plaid sweatpants. He smelled of cheap bar soap and mint toothpaste. For a moment, all you could feel was him. It took all of your strength to push that thought to the back of your mind. There was a more important matter at hand, and that was figuring out what was bothering your friend.

He ushered you inside and you both awkwardly next to each other on his worn out couch. The broken leather pricked your legs every now and then through the old bedsheet Peter covered the couch with. All the confidence you mustered up throughout the day to confront him was lost now. You fiddled anxiously with the strings of a throw pillow, avoiding Peter’s gaze.

He broke the silence, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself recently but… what I did to you this week was wrong. Sorry. Again.” 

You sighed. This wasn’t easy at all. The words came out before you could think, “I know. I just wish you would tell me. I think I deserve to at least know why you’ve been acting this way.”

Your heart thrummed in both anticipation and fear. Peter, with his enhanced everything, could hear it. That’s when he took in the sight before him. You were so gorgeous; an angel on Earth in his eyes. You, so beautiful in ways he didn’t think was possible, sat in his living room because you were concerned. May’s words of wisdom echoed in his mind. She was right. What he had with Gwen was special, she was his first love, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t form something new. It took all this time to realize he wanted to build that with you. Your eyes told him everything you didn’t say out loud. You cared. You cared, you cared, you cared. He loved you.

Peter Parker loved you. He just had to figure out a way to say it.

He was sure he looked weird in that moment. You stared at him so intensely, trying to figure out the enigma that was his emotions. His hands found yours and the first thing you could think was how warm they were. He squeezed, as if trying to reassure himself that you were real and that this was happening.

“I lost someone. She… she was my girlfriend,” he began shakily, trying to find the right words to describe the massive lump of something in his chest. “Her name was Gwen. We met in high school. All these years, I’ve tried to hold on to her. You know, to keep her alive in some way. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that maybe I was doing more harm than good.”

There it was. It was all out in the open now, bits and pieces of his heart sprawled out across the floor as he waited for your reaction. Thousands of scenarios ran through his head, all of them ending in you leaving him alone. Each version of you in his mind reflected the guilt he bottled up for nearly a decade, screaming at him and cursing him for the things he’s done and the things he couldn’t do. Then he felt your arms wrap around him. He didn’t even realize he was already crying.

“Peter Parker, you are a good person. I might not know the full story, but if she loved you as much as you loved her, then I know for a fact that she would want you to be happy. You deserve that. She deserves that.” 

You prepared yourself for his protest; for him to rebut everything you just said. You hoped you said the right thing but nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said next.

“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll fall in love with you even more.”

It was so quiet, just a little above a hushed whisper that you could almost fool yourself into thinking he didn’t say it if it wasn’t for that fact that his hold on you got tighter. He must’ve seen the confusion on your face because he spoke again, “I hated myself for falling in love with you because I thought it was a disrespect to Gwen’s memory. I wish I couId say I didn’t see it coming. I always knew I would love you. I just didn’t want to see it.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stayed there, his confession lingering in the air you breathed. It might be a trick of the mind, but you knew it was sweet. Peter pulled away; too kind, too selfless, too afraid to consider the possibility that you might just feel the same.

“Peter—”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

“Peter—” 

“—ruin everything we had, I just couldn’t—”

“Peter!”

He gulped, clearly not expecting you to stop him from rambling. In his mind, you deserved an apology. In yours, you deserved a chance to speak.

“Peter,” you spoke softly, trying to reassure him that you weren’t offended in any way. “Have you ever once considered that maybe I like you too?” 

Ever since he got bitten by that spider, Peter learned to tune out the stimuli in his environment. It used to bother him so much; hearing and smelling and feeling everything all at once got overwhelming. Now, when all his senses pointed back to you, he finds he doesn’t mind at all. In that moment, he was so sure he’d die a happy man if your face was the last thing he ever saw. It took him a while to respond to your own confession, too wrapped in all of you to think clearly.

He asked you if you were sure. You said yes. He asked you again. You kissed him. 

The feeling of your lips on his both grounded him and blew him away. Somewhere in between that make-out session, his hands found yours. He decided this felt right. Maybe Peter will never fully overcome his own insecurities, and there was a lot of them. He was worried he was too tired, too beaten-down for you… and that didn’t even begin to describe the fear he felt knowing that you would have to find out about Spider-Man at some point. Again, he was reminded of your friendship and your kindness. You had given it to him so freely. He just needed to take another leap of faith and learn to trust himself as much as you did.

When November came, Peter didn’t find the air so chilly anymore. Not with you around.

[dejwritesarchived]

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) ugly duckling zeke yeager return to campus looking better than ever and he’s back dealing with his biggest academic rival that want what he has.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, college au, teacher assistant!zeke, grad student!reader, mean girl!reader, profanity, cumeating, mentions of alcohol drinking, academic rivals trope, zeke and his freakin’ daddy issues, hand job, spit usage, slight exhibitionism, they kinda do it at a party but it’s after the party, corruption kink (on both ends), tbh reader and zeke should just be happy and make out already, if i am 1 out of maybe 30 zeke simps i am okay with that, mentions of other aot characters, is this kinda self indulgent? yes, the marley men just have some flavor to them to me, entry for @poohbea 'once upon a collab' event, art credit

ANOTHER YEAR OF GRAD SCHOOL MEANT ANOTHER YEAR BEING AT THE TOP OF YOUR DEPARTMENT. You were in competition with yourself in academics, fashion, popularity, social status—you name it. You went from student body president during undergrad to the grad student that everyone could lean on when they needed something. That was until he returned to campus. The eldest son of infamous doctor Grisha Yeager—Zeke Yeager. He not only knocked you to number two in your department, but he also snatched your teacher assistant position right from you. Eventually, taking away that excellent bullet point on your resume. 

You felt frustrated that the opportunity even got snatched from your hands in the first place. Of course, the guy with the infamous doctor would get the position before you. You had to figure out how you could get back on top. You could torment him as you did during undergrad. No, that wouldn’t work. The way he was looking now—he wouldn’t fall for your tactic of inviting him out to drink and causing him to miss an exam. Maybe, cause a scandal within his family. His family does always seem to stay in the tabloids. No, that wouldn’t work. Their PR agent would have that buried before you could convince your professor to give you the teacher assistant position. 

“Are you going to this party tonight? Please don’t tell me you’re spending your Friday at home again,” Your friend asked as she tapped her manicured fingers on your kitchen top. “Everyone is going to be at this party, you know?” 

“Why would I want to be around drunk strangers? How does that benefit me at all?” You asked while letting your finger trace alongside the rim of your wine glass.

Your friend was here to convince you to come to this party just by her attire. You were sure she would be zooming to this party immediately after her poor attempt to get you to come out. You always told her not to let you rain on her parade. Go out and have fun; just be safe.

“What if I told you Eren Yeager is hosting it, and it’s at his family’s lovely home?” Your friend leaned over, smiling at you.

“I’m not interested in Eren Yeager. Do I look like one of those sophomores that easily let his man bun distract them on how much of a manwhore he is,” You sipped from your glass before you heard your friend drag out a sigh.

“If one brother is going to be there, obviously the other will be.” Your friend rolls her eyes at your obviously, not-smart thinking. “Perfect opportunity to talk to him to let you have the teacher assistant position. After all, it’s not like he will need it anyway. I’m sure daddy has a job lined up for both of his sons.” 

“I highly doubt he’ll be there. Doesn’t even seem like his scene,” You added. 

“You think he trusts his younger brother to throw a party in one of their family properties alone?”

You thought about it for a second. Hypothetically, this could be a perfect opportunity to convince him to step down from the position. Give him a couple of cups of alcohol and get to batting your eyelashes—this could work. 

“Fine, let me change into something else,” You finished your glass of wine before your friend could let out a squeal of excitement. 

You went into your room to freshen up and get changed. When you stepped out, your friend had some devious grin as her eyes flickered up and down to look at your outfit. “Let’s hope the outfit works in your favor.” She says as she places the wine glasses you guys used in the sink.

“Hope so.” The dress you wore wasn’t too fancy, but it was something that could have anyone doing a double look. You glanced in the full-body mirror in your living room—slowly leaning forward to apply a coat of clear lip gloss. 

The ride to the party was filled with rules; you and your friend always went over. If you were leaving with a guy, let the other know. If you hit your alcohol limit—it’s time to go. Don’t leave without the other without confirmation that you were; that was common sense. As you dawned closer to one of the biggest houses in the gated community, it seemed you could hear the music as you got closer and closer. When you entered the party, it was crowded, from people dancing in the living room to people littering the steps sitting, and talking. Your friend had seen one of her usual semester flings and instantly shot right towards them after letting you know that if you were ready to go—just find her. 

Now you were alone in a sea of people hoping you could clichely bump into the older Yeager sibling. You pushed your way through to find him yourself. Hoping he wasn’t indulging in flirting with someone 

You tried your hardest to avoid anybody that knew you. Each of them gets in the way of why you were here in the first place. You spent the past thirty minutes pretending to be interested in conversations until you eventually entered the kitchen to see the person you were searching for. There he stood up, scrunching up his face at the taste of the mixed drink his younger brother had made. 

“It’s not that bad,” Eren said as he sipped from the red solo cup.

“It’s horrible, but when does alcohol ever taste good?” Zeke questioned as he placed his empty solo cup on the counter.

“Exactly! Everyone is going to love this Yeager juice,” His brother responded before he poured more of the drink into two cups and made his way out of the kitchen. 

Zeke was all alone, sipping alcohol in the kitchen and chatting with his friends. You didn’t even know you caught yourself staring at him and how his biceps flexed in the tight black shirt he wore. Did he get hotter from the last time you saw him? His little internship in France surely must have done wonders for him. Wait, you weren’t here to drool over his attractiveness—focus. 

As you inched further to get something to drink, Zeke's eyes landed on you, and you watched his lips curve into a smirk before he met you near the counter you were near. You were glancing at all the alcohol choices they offered, pretending that you weren’t here for something else. 

“It’s funny that this will be where we bump into each other again.” Zeke interrupted your pretend task of searching for alcohol of your choosing. 

“Couldn’t turn down a Yeager party,” You shrug your shoulders while collecting a bottle and pouring some into the cup. “It was the talk of the campus. Everyone is here.”

“Would have thought you’ll ditch to do some project or something.” Zeke leaned against the counter that was next to you. His head tilts like an innocent puppy attempting to challenge its owner.

“You know me, any project or paper I must do is most likely done already. Come on; we didn’t play hot potato for the top of the class spot for nothing.” You sipped from your cup, peeking up at him. 

“Still the same overachiever, I see.” Zeke poured him some of the drink Eren had made. “Same girl that tormented me.”

“That’s what I’m here for. To apologize; we’ve matured now. I’ve matured now.” You placed your hand on your heart and gave him a sweet smile before that smile disappeared after hearing his snickers. 

“You’re funny; what do you want?” Zeke took another sip of his drink and poured more into his cup once more now that it was empty. 

Your lips gasp upon pretending to be offended. “I can’t just see how you been?” 

“When did you ever care?” Zeke backfired. “Before, during, or after you were the biggest manipulator during undergrad? 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a horrible person to you, Zeke.” You gave him a pout. “So please let me have that T.A. position you have.” 

The sound of his laughter caused your eye to twitch in annoyance. His eyes form tears as he hunches over to laugh. “You’re hilarious. I knew you wanted something, and the answer is no. For once, you couldn’t beat me or use some conniving way to beat me. Enjoy the rest of the party, Y/N.” He clinks his red solo cup with yours and talks to his friend Pieck who is searching the fridge for something. 

You inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. Your nails dig into the palm of your hand before you turn to fill your cup up. You had to think of another way, but you needed to drink for now. You ventured around the property two times, searching for your friend. You had no luck but found yourself in the living room talking to your friend Reiner. You remember being lab partners with him; he was such a sweetheart. He didn’t know how to do the labs, but he was charming. You felt someone staring at you as you laughed at one of his jokes, you felt someone staring at you. To your shock, Zeke's eyes were staring at you as some random girl was talking his head off. You turned around after playfully rolling your eyes at him. 

Hours went by, and people headed home to sleep off the alcohol they consumed or head to the next party. Your friend had gone home with their semester fling after confirming with you that it was okay. You decided to stay back to continue to pester Zeke. He hasn't budged at all with giving you the teacher assistant position—and you weren’t giving up that easily. As you help, throw away the red solo cups that decorated the expensive marble counters. Zeke was collecting the empty alcohol bottles to toss in the recycle bin. The two of you silently cleaned up the kitchen as you could hear Eren and his friends drunkenly messing around in the living room. Zeke knew they weren’t doing any type of cleaning as they told him they were doing.

“You know…” Zeke broke the silence between the two of you. 

“You’re going to let me have the T.A. position?” You interjected as you tossed another cup in the trash. 

“No, but I find your eagerness—quite attractive,” He chuckles, dropping a whiskey bottle in the bin. He walks closely towards you, and you meet him halfway, dragging the black trash back with you. 

Just as you met in the middle of the kitchen where the counter was, he stared at you with his gray-colored eyes trying to read you. He wasn’t sure if you had changed or not since undergrad. “It’s quite comical that you even parted your lips to ask me after the hell you put me through during undergrad.” He grabs the empty red solo cup off the counter and grabs the black trash bag you had.

Being sure to let his fingertips brush against your hand as he takes the bag. He threw the cup in the trash before speaking again, “You were a horrible person. Kinda need you to beg a little more,” he reached by you to grab another liquor bottle.

“I apologized so many times. I don’t understand why you need the position so much.” You snatch the alcohol bottle out of his hand and place it on the counter. His need to ensure the kitchen was clean before his parents returned to their luxury trip distracted you from your goal. “Your daddy will help you find the perfect job when you graduate.” 

You watched as Zeke’s jaw clenched in annoyance, hearing your words. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before your lips curve into a smirk. This was your opening. “Oh, that struck a nerve, huh?” Your head tilts as you watch those eyes darken.

You’ve seen that look countless times during undergrad, especially when you caused him to miss a final exam which helped you to have the highest GPA in your department. 

“That’s not true. I work very hard for the positions I have.” He glanced at you, and  now it was him with a devious smirk on his face. “Just like the T.A. position that you want.” 

“You leave for an internship in France for the summer and come back with some balls; that’s what’s fuckin’ comical, actually.” You suck your teeth before stepping back and hopping on the counter. 

You were growing frustrated with not getting what you wanted after years of getting what you wanted—which you didn’t have an infamous surname and an academic medical school building named after your father to do so. It was a bit insulting to you that he was dangling this position in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already. It’s only one in the morning. You’ve tormented me longer than this.” Zeke went back to cleaning up. “I’m starting to think you may just want to be in my company or something. I must advise you; others wouldn’t mind being in my company and not being a pain in my ass.” He tossed a bag of opened chips in the trash.

“And yet, you’ve declined them all night just to let me pester you.” You muttered under your breath.

“And yet you spent this whole night pestering me, ignoring all the advances thrown at you. You really think Reiner cares about your fuckin’ marketing project?” Zeke backfired as he leaned against the counter opposite where you were sitting. He rubs at the thick blonde beard on his face in a mockingly thinking manner. “Starting to think you may like me.” 

“I would rather gouge my eyeballs out and take the least-rated Professor in our university than ever admit any attraction to you, Zeke Yeager.” You shrugged your shoulders at him, but you also noticed that he had stepped closer once again, not being afraid to invade your space.

You just were trying to figure out if you thought this was a good idea. The sexual tension was there. It was obviously there—you two wouldn’t be going back and forth like an intense tennis game if it wasn’t. You grabbed Zeke’s belt, tugging him closer to fill the gap between your thighs. 

“You’re still that ugly duckling in undergrad that I enjoyed sabotaging to be on top.” You attempted to push him, but his hand caught yours before eventually letting his lips crash upon yours. 

The taste of hard whiskey and Eren’s horrible mixed Yeager juice lingers on your tongue as you’re eagerly tracing it to get a taste of all the liquor Zeke consumed during the night. The scent of a freshly opened pack of cigarettes and a woodsy-scented cologne crawls up your nostrils to cause you to be even more intoxicated. Your grasp on his shirt as if he was going to blow up was a bit funny, considering you were insulting him all night. You wanted more; you needed more. The kiss broke apart, and you tried to utter another degrading thing. The short break from tasting each other allowed Zeke to remove his glasses and place them next to you on the counter—before his lips were back on yours. Shoving his tongue down your throat in a heated makeout session because he would rather have that than hear your nagging about him being undeserving of a position he has already. 

Your hand untangled from the cotton threads of his shirt to travel down to his pants to rub his hardened cock. The bulge was so noticeable you would have thought he was a virgin that just discovered an exclusive OnlyFans account. Zeke breaks the kiss again, his plush lips pecking soft subtle kisses on yours as if he didn’t want the kiss to end. Now those gray hues of his were softened—they didn’t look at you as if he hated your guts. But for pure hunger for you. 

“Want to go upstairs?” Zeke asked; he didn’t budge from towering over you as you were on the counter. He could hear the loud laughter of his younger brother and his friends playing another round of Never Have I Ever. 

You rubbed your lips together before shaking your head. “What’s the fun in that?” You questioned as your hands fiddled to undo his belt. “It’s a bit more exciting when you’re about to get caught by your brother, isn’t it?”

You never saw Zeke’s face turn red so quickly. His cheeks are stained a crimson color as you’re unbuttoning his pants. He watches as you bring your hand up to your mouth to spit it and soon dig into his boxers to massage the tip of his cock. You didn’t want to fully bring his cock out just in case someone walked in, so you brought him closer using the heel of your foot, and your hand slowly guided up and down his shaft. His head fell back in complete bliss as he was poorly attempting not to utter a moan. 

“If you think this is going to….” His body shutters when he feels the pad of your thumb brush against his plump mushroom-shaped tip. “—going to get me to step down from the teacher assistant position, you’re highly mistaken.” He finishes.

You leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “At this point, is it really about the damn T.A. position?” You questioned as you continued to palm his cock. This time your hand is pushing his pants down just a bit to give yourself some more room. 

If anyone was to walk in, they could assume that the two of you were just making out—but really, Zeke was desperately thrusting forward for more friction as your hand squeezed around his cock. Broken groans trembled out of Zeke as he prompted his hand on the cabinet just a few inches from your head to hold himself up. “Shit, I’m going to cum.” He utters as your hand slides up and down his cock.  

“I’m going to stop that from happening,” Your teeth bite your lower lip as your hand palms at his thick cock. 

“Mhmm, okay.” Zeke leans in to kiss you again, but you’re quick to lean back teasingly. Continuing the urge to make sure he cums and becomes a bowl of putty right in front of you. 

You’ve adored seeing Zeke get tugged from the temporary bliss of passion. You could sense the heat from his skin and all the color rush to his face. Thick ropes of cum came out so quickly before you could spit out some witty comment. Your hand motions slowed to ensure that he experienced every emotion that came from the fact that you had him in the palm of your hand. Zeke’s chest heaved upward as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes watched as you removed your hands from his box just in time to hear footsteps behind Zeke. Eren walked into the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. 

“I didn’t know anyone else was here,” Eren said as he opened the bottle of water in his hand. His eyes were shot red from the weed he smoked, and he went through the many stages of cottonmouth.

The droplet of Zeke’s cum imprinted your fingertips, and you brought your fingers to your mouth to lick up the mess he made in your hand. He let out a shaky sigh before quickly fixing his bottoms to answer his brother. 

“She was just leaving,” He sighed.

 Eren’s thick brows raised at the sight he was seeing before he let out a laugh at his brother's words, “Sure, just be sure to wear protection. Our father finds out you knocked someone up—say goodbye to your cut of his will.” He gives a sly wave to you before he leaves the kitchen again. 

“I’m going to go get cleaned up, and when I return, I would love for you not to be here.” He admits as he steps back from the space in between your thighs. 

“Okay,” You didn’t bother to argue as you gave him an innocent smile. “No goodbye kiss,” Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip as you glanced up at him through your lashes.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You heard Zeke utter. 

But he didn’t argue against your wishes; his large hands cupped your face so gently that you could only grasp his waist, not wanting to let go. When he finally pulled away, he let his eyes linger on you just a bit longer before escaping the kitchen. 

He would always be your ugly duckling that you enjoyed bothering—but this time, he wasn’t afraid to bother you right back. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀thanks for reading, reblogs & comments are highly appreciated.

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── TAGS: @tyga-lily @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @stunnababyyabyyy @shamelesshoefairy @violxtbxbyy @kenpachis-woman @euhmae25 @mostlyclearbeans @emotionalfatbword @bella-fl1z @levisecretgfblog @cherrypussprincess @zcmbi @4522-08 @sprkled @magxnoria @lisia-primary @ramenaddicted @tashniko @charminstasia @cluelessb19 @maxi8898 @hyunsannie @awkatsukis @cashae @indiecursor @melaninmight @blessedfatui @hopelhss @trueformsukuna @kentcs

[first-edition]

Wonderful life.

Arron hotchner x Fem!reader

Sum- after hailey you spend more time with Jack and hotch leading up todating arron and it has been the best, but when your friends bring up to topic of sex the relationship might get better.

Cw smut - loss of virginity-oral fem reciv-fingering- praise dirty talk if you squint- unprotected -creampie

This fic is kinda long so if you wanna skip the fluff and get straight to the smut scroll down to the emojis. Leave a like!!

Dating Arron has been the best experience of your life even though you’ve only been with him romantically for 6 months you would come around the house and baby sit Jack while Arron was gone to work.

You were well aware of Hailey and you two would often go out with a few drinks after he got home. She would always talk about her feeling words Hotch and how she felt as if she and him werent all there anymore.

You would ask her why but she never understood until she told you that he had asked for a divorce and she agreed having the same mutual feelings.

When hailey died you were around Hotch and Jack more often almost every day in fact even sleeping over a few times. Jack had immediately latched onto you as the next mother figure. You would take him out for ice cream, go to the park, Arron even found you both asleep on the couch with Thomas the train on playing in the background. Being younger also helped letting you be more agile and being able to lift Jack up play more often with him.

“Good morning how was he trip?.” You ask walking into the kitchen pushing your hair back. You’d had stayed week at his place with Jack as he had a week long case.

Hotch turns around to see you in shorts and an oversized baseball t-shirt that he somehow recognizes.

“M-morning.” He can’t help but feel a ping in his heart an extra beat when he sees you.

“It was good no one what hurt sorry you stayed for so long…is that my shirt?” He says tilting his head.

“It’s alright and uh yeah sorry I ran outta shirts last night they were all in the washer I didn’t wanna rush back to my place I hope you don’t mind?” You say

“No not at all..keep it please.” He says his eyes wandering you body in a non creepy way.

“DADDY!” Jacks voice echos through the kitchen as he runs across the tile into hitch’s arm.

From that day on Hotch couldn’t imagine anything with out you. You would cloud his judgement at work finding him self thinking of you or looking at pictures of you and Jack. He even had a picture of you him and Jack on his desk in a macaroni Frame Jack had made.

When Mother’s Day came around that’s when Hotch had made up his mind. You had taken picked Jack up from school and he came out holding a tissue paper flower bouquet with a class craft card with a crayon drawing of you him and Arron on the paper.

“Jack…thank you you didn’t have to make me this?!” You say tears welling up in your eyes.

“Yes I did…you’re my mom.” He say. Hearing him say that but made you feel more love for him but a slight twinge of pain as he dosnt see Hailey as his mother anymore.

On the drive home he talks about the dinosaur he played with durning class naming all of them and thier color.

You and Jack walk into the house only for you to see Arron there fixing the flowers and balloons. He’s obviously come from work he’s still wearing his dress pants and his shirt is rolled up to his forearms which makes you weak.

“Daddy look what I made y/n!” Jack runs up his father showing him the fake flowers and card. You walk up to them looking around at the gifts and flowers and balloons all addressed to you.

“Hey you wanna go get those dinosaurs you were talking about?” You ask Jack he smiles and runs out of the room up stairs.

“Arron?” You ask now focusing on the elephant in the room.

“Just uh..happy Mother’s Day.” He says

“I-I’m not Jack mother.” You say

“You’re not the one who gave birth to him but you are sure as ever his mother, you’ve been there almost every single day for his entire life. Y/n…” he says taking your hands in his.

You look up at him a small smile runs across his face.

“I’ve fallen in love with you. When you stayed over that week I was gone-“ he begins

“That was months ago…” you trail off.

“Exactly you can say no I know it’s not in you biggest interest to be in a relationship but I-“

“Yes.” You say looking up to him bringing your hands up to his chest.

“What…”

“Yes.” You say already knowing what’s he’s gonna ask. He cups your face pulling you into him his lips pressing against yours as you share a kiss deep and and passionate.

————

6 months later, that term or mention of sex never crossed yours or Arron’s mind, with Jack and him working a lot there’s wasn’t much time or energy. If either of you wanted sex he would always make sure you knew that you were in charge as having never had sex before is quite a scary moment.

He knows about your virginity. And respects you in every way possible. Of course there as sneaky touches here and there and make outs that are usually interrupted by Jack coming down stairs asking for water.

Out with Penelope jj and Emily you all sit at a table talking gossip about the guy who came over trying to tell you he was an fbi agent.

“So anyway y/n you and Hotch still going strong?” Emily asks

“Yes thank you very much.” You smile looking down into your drink.

“Any juciy deets you wanna spill?” She continues.

“You know that you’re talking about your boss right?” You ask

“Our boss your boyfriend. Boyfriend cancels out boss.” Pen laughs

“There’s nothing to discuss really we spend time we go out. I hangout with Jack..”

“Yeah but you don’t…you know?” Jj butts ins

“What?” You ask

“Sex?” She finishes her sentence.”

“N-no..besides I’ve never and you know that. I don’t know there not much time with Jack and his work I work from home so..” you say.

“Oh come on Jack is at science camp for another few days we don’t have a case should now be the perfect time?” Jj says

“We know you love with and we sure know he loves you in past you’ve said you’ve never gone steady becuase the guy was an ass and we can assure you Hotch is not and ass.” Penelope says.

You look over at Hotch drinking water while listening to Spencer ramble.

“Yeah…” you say

“You know what…yeah!!” You say more confidently.

“Yeah!” They all cheer making you giggle.

You get up and walk over to Hotch he looks at you with a smile placing his hand on your lower back.

“Can we go?” You ask.

The smile fades into a frown.

“You alright?” Hs asks looking over to you to the girls wondering if they’d hurt your feelings or something.

“I’m fine! I just..I wanna go.” You say looking up at him. He nods setting his cup down.

“Come on.” He says taking your hand. You wave to Spencer and your friends as you walk off with your lover.

Walking into his house has a weirder atmosphere with Jack not immediately running to say hello.

“You okay?” He asks helping you take off your jacket.

“Mhm.” You say tuning around to him wrapping your arms around his neck pulling his down to you in a kiss. He happily ablidges and kisses you back his hand gripping your waist.

💕💕💕

He groans into your lips as your hand grips the scruff of his neck. His hands move under your sweater only making you gasp out breaking contact with his lips.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Y-you’re hands are freezing.” You giggle noting at the cold night air you’d both walked through.

“Aaron…” you trail off.

“Mm.” He replies his hands roaming your waist.

“Jack is gone..” you answer

“Mhm.” He replies once again

“You don’t have a case…”

“No..” he says

“The h-house is empty.” You say a large rush of heat pushes its way up to your face.

He removes on hand pressing it to your blushed cheek looking you in your eyes.

“Tell me what you want?” He says caressing you cheek with his thumb.

“Y-you.” You say he smiles pecking your lips.

“You gotta do better than that.” He says brushing his nose against your.

“Please, make love to me.” You say. He presses his lips back on yours again this time the kiss is more passionate. You slip out of your heels dropping you height back to normal. He companstes by pulling you up into his arms your legs wrapping around his waist as he Carrie’s you through the living room and up the stairs to the bedroom.

He places you on the bed and starts with removing his own shoes and unbuttoning his shirt before moving back to you. Your hands move up his chest feeling his toned body. You rember the first time you felt his skin under yours was at the beach when you put sun screen on him he was worried the scars and mark would turn you off or scare you but not at all.

His hands wander down your sides to the hem of your dress lifting it up and pulling it off over your head. Exposing your self in your panties and braless.

Before you can react he presses his lips to your neck while lifting your thigh to sit against his hip. Quickly finding the spot from before he kisses and sucks cussing a small moan to release from you mouth.

He cups your breast in his hand massage it making you whimper. He kisses down your chest to your stomach ending at the line of your panties the simple black underwear enough to make him hard in his pants.

He kisses along your inner thigh before looking up to you his hands on your waist.

“Can I take these off?” He asks gesturing at your undergarment.

“Yeah..” you say sheepishly.

Sitting up slightly he pats the side of your thigh.

“Lift for me.” He says and takes ahold of the side of your underwater. You lift your hips as the fabric is removed leaving you completely bare to him. Subconsciously you close your eyes and your arms move over your chest.

“Y/n…” Aaron speaks as you open your eyes you see he removed his shirt completely and his belt is gone.

“You alright? We can stop.” He reassures.

“I’m okay..” you say avoiding eye contact. A pro and con about dating a profiler is they can tell what’s wrong.

“Love.” He leans over to you.

“Hey..look at me.” He says you look at him as he places his hand on your cheek.

“It’s okay we can stop.” He says pure love and worry in his eyes as he waits for your answer.

“No I don’t want to im just..um”

“It’s okay to be scared.” He finishes for you.

“I want you to feel comfortable, okay? We’ll go very slow.” He says kissing your cheek.

“Hmm?” He asks when you don’t answer. He kisses your face again peppering them making you giggle.

“Okay okay.” You say looking up at him.

“Good. If I’m doing something wrong tell me okay?” He says

“Okay.” You nod his hand moves down between your bodies. You expect him to line himself up with you and press into you like in the movies but not at all your met with a pleasant feeling of his fingers pressing against your clit.

“Ah..” you moan out only to cover your mouth muffling the sound as he swirls your clit. It feels so much better him doing it that you yourself.

He kisses your hand before moving it off your mouth.

“I want to hear you. Tell me how you feel.” He says

“G-good.” You gasp as the motion picks up. He shifts his hand to press his middle finger into you. Having used your own before but his are much longer thicker and it’s only one.

“Ngh..” you let out as he angles it up pumping it in and out. He groans at the sight of you enjoying just one of his fingers.

To lost in the pleasures of him you don’t realize his face between your legs. Only when he slips in a second finger do you notice. His lips latch around your clit as his tongue plays with you. His two fingers angling up stroking the spongy spot in you.

“F-fuck..Aaron..” you moan out as you grip the bedsheets. A buildup forms in your stomach as you squirm helplessly into the bed only giving your boyfriend better access to your core.

He groans into you as your clench around his fingers is enough to cause you to cum. The snap of the band in the pit of your stomach cuases a rush of pleasure to surge through your body. Your fingers entangled themself in his hair.

He let up on you as to not over stimulate you. Your chest rises and falls heavily. He combats with light kisses along your body praising you for how well you did. How good you were for him. Although it’s meant to calm you down if riled you back up turning you on once more.

“Do you want to stop?” He aks

“No. No please, I want you.” You say.

He nods pulling back from you making you whine a small noise which makes him chuckle.

“Hold on sweetheart.” He says as he unbuttons his pants the obvious bulge stretching his pants. He lets his pants down taking his boxers with them exposing him fully to you.

You pale out the blood leaving your system as pure worry fills your emotions. His size is way larger than you thought. Once or twice you’ve accidentally run into him after a shower and you could see the slight outline or him. But as fully erect he’s intimidating.

You prop yourself up on your elbows worry leaving you as remeber what his fingers can do to you. Honier to know what his cock can do.

He crawls back into you.

“Look at me. If you want to stop or if anything hurt let me know I’ll stop.” He says

“I know. I trust you.” You say he nods looking down to your pussy again before lining up with you you feel his head touch your core making you flinch lightly. Hotch places his hand on your thigh caressing your skin soothing your fear.

“Relax it’s okay.” He says you listen to him getting off your elbows bracing your self by gripping the sheet beneath you.

He pushes the head past your folds you feel pressure but not pain. He pushes a bit more as you feel a stretch that becomes slightly painful.

“Ngh..a-Aaron w-wait.” You grip onto his arm stopping him.

“Okay.” He says stopping his movements waiting for you it takes a few seconds but finally you give him the play to move. He carfully pulls out slightly only to push back in. He does a few more times letting you adjust to his length before pushing In further and further until he fully inside you.

Your walls twitch can around him cock warming him for a bit before you tell him to move. So he does beginning to calmly thrust in and back.

Your cunt fully used to him he’s easily siding within you.

“H-harder Aaron please.” You whine looking up to him. A particularly hard thrust cuases a squeal to leave your lips as your nails dig into his back. He groans out as the feeling of you clenching down around him.

One hand gripping your breast while the other props himself up beside you. Some how his thrust hit deeper stroking against your g-spot. You clench around him making him groan deeply in your ear.

Noticing your pleasure from his actions he thrust up into you not pulling your thigh over his shoulder roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out in pleasure as he fucks up into you.

“Aaron! Ah.” You moan out as your nails scratch down his back. Making him groan and moan into your neck.

“I love you..fuck..I love you so much!” He kisses your neck sucking and marking you up.

“Ah..i- ah.” You try to reply but you can muster are sloppy moans as you grip his hair. The familiar build up from before is quick to snap making your cunt flutter and clench down around him. Making him more full than before.

Your back arches as you climax against him. With a few more sloppy thrust he grips the bed on either side of you scrunching the sheets as he meets his own finish.

“Ngh..f-fuck” he groans into you as he empties himself into your aching pussy. Your pants ragged as you smile his lips connecting with yours giving you a few smaller thrusts before he subsides and carefully pulls out of you peppers your face with kisses making you giggle pulling him closer to you.

“Stay here.” He says before pecking your lips and getting up. He pulls his boxers up covering his lower half before walking over to his drawer pulling out a shirt. Once he turns around he sees you sleep on the bed. Walking back over to you he carefully lifts you up and places the shirt over you before getting into the bed next to you.

He pulls you closer to him you immediately gripping onto him like a koala. He kisses you head before falling asleep himself.