#i also think she'd get one out of curiosity

[littlemissaddict]

To Eddie it was a usual Saturday movie night around Steve's until it wasn't. Well there was the usual suspects Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and the kids but there was someone new, someone he'd only heard them talk about in passing but now she was here.

He'd managed to wait until after the first movie when she'd gone to help Nancy in the kitchen after the pizza delivery. "So what's her deal? How come she just shows up out of the blue? I mean it's a small town, everyone knows everyone but I've never heard of her until you all mentioned her" he asks, trying to keep his voice low so she can't hear.

"Jeez calm down, there's more to her than meets the eye in fact you are both probably more alike than you think" Robin reveals which leaves Eddie with even more questions, questions that he doesn’t get to ask as she and Nancy enter the room with the food.

They all make it through another movie before Eddie stands up declaring he needs a smoke break. "Anyone joining me?" He asks to which everyone declines. Shrugging his shoulders, Eddie turns and heads through to the kitchen towards the back door.

"Actually I think I could use a bit of fresh air" she says to no one in particular, pushing up off the couch and stretching her body out.

"But you don't smoke" Nancy pipes up.

"And is it really fresh air if your just inhaling second hand smoke?" Mike adds with a roll of his eyes.

Max clearly sensing what was going on reaches over and smacks Mike upside his head. She shoots the younger girl a grateful smile and follows the way Eddie went just moments earlier.

She cracks the door open as quietly as she can, not wanting to scare Eddie. Though it doesn't seem like it would have mattered anyway, he's sitting on one of the sun loungers over by the pool staring up into the sky at the stars overhead.

"They're so much prettier out here" she says softly as she joins him, taking a seat on the sun lounger next to him. Eddie doesn't flinch, she guesses he heard her coming, only hums in response as he takes another drag from his cigarette. "I used to love coming out here as a kid, life's so much slower than in the big city, you know you wouldn't find anyone just sitting around stargazing but then again there's too much light there so you can't really see the stars" she doesn't know why she's telling him this, her mouth running away with her as she settles back into the seat.

They sit in silence as Eddie finishes his cigarette, dropping it in the ashtray he had the foresight to bring out with him. He eyes her up as he turns, trying to work out what to say next without seeming too prying but when she turns towards him having sensed his gaze he decides to just go for it. "So how did you even become friends with them?"

She blinks at him, processing the question and to be fair the topic had never been discussed and she could see where his curiosity was coming from considering she wasn't even from the town. "Nancy," she says finally, "we'd made friends when I used to visit when I was younger and then the rest of the group just kinda claimed me as one of the the last few years" she explained.

Eddie nodded with a smile as he relaxed back into the sun lounger. "Makes sense, you and Nancy seem very alike" he comments, missing the way her nose scrunches in discontempt that he's already seems to have a made up image of her in his head when he doesn't even know her.

"We are alike but we're also not alike in the slightest" she informs him, not that there was anything wrong with being like Nancy, she was smart, pretty and fiercely protective of those she loves but at the same time she was also her own person, not Nancy.

"Coulda fooled me" he smirks, raising his brows in challenge to her to prove him wrong, "but then again the others seem to think the two of us have a lot in common" he adds, disbelief at the words written across his face.

"And they'd be right" she states, a smirk on her own face.

"Yeah, you take three times to graduate high school? Or are you a secret metalhead or something? Got some hidden tattoos you not showing?" He tries, all things that he doesn’t believe fit her.

"No," she replies without hesitation, causing Eddie to interrupt with a scoff, mumbling an 'I thought so' with a smug smile. "You didn’t let me finish," she huffs in frustration at his interruption, "I passed high school first time round, yes I listen to metal and yes I have tattoos" she finishes, feeling quite smug with herself in the way Eddie's now quiet, mouth hung open in disbelief.

"You-you" Eddie stutters at a loss for words, "can I see" he asks, referring to her tattoos.

"Are you asking me to strip? Jeez take a girl out to dinner first" she teases, just to see Eddie splutter some more. Call it payback for the misconception he had of her.

"Are you serious?" He asks, his face tinted red enough to see even in the fading light of the sun.

"About the tattoos, yes, about taking me out to dinner, no unless that's something you'd be interested in" she winks, enjoying the teasing and more so Eddie's reactions considering the loud and boisterous way he'd been so far tonight.

Eddie just stares at her, seemingly deciding what to say when Steve's voice comes from the back door, "are you too going to stay out there all night or can we put another movie on?" He sounds frustrated with the two of them but one look at his face tells them both that the anger is fake, he's probably just happy they're getting along.

She jumps up from the sun lounger, making her way towards the house without even looking if Eddie is following her but then Steve's question about if she's playing nice tells her that he hasn't. "Always" she promises with a sweet smile as she slides through the door and heads towards the rest of the group.

"Come on man" Steve urges as Eddie finally stands, only stopping when he gets to Steve. "Yeah I know, you'll get used to her" Steve chuckles, seeing the look of confusion and awe mixed into one on his face as he ushers him back inside to where the rest of the group were waiting.

[sweetteaandpie]

i'm sick so indulge me lol.

if yes, what would/should she get?

[arolesbianism]

If I was more of a fanfic writer I would totally write like 50 oni timeloop ai fics and Id have to fight myself so hard to not make Olivia a significant part of all of them. Just like yeah Quinn timeloop au. They and Olivia regular at the same bar actually. Don't worry abt it.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Spies and Secrets

Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.

Word Count: 2048

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!

A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

"Will you finally tell me who they are?"

"This again, Romanoff?"

"Just a first name?"

Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.

"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.

Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.

"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."

"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"

Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.

"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"

Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.

On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.

The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.

"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.

"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.

"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.

"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"

"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."

Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.

"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."

The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.

A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."

Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."

As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."

»»————-　★　————-««

Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 

What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.

Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.

You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.

"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.

"I am."

"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 

One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.

"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.

"No injuries this time?"

"None at all."

"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."

"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."

The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.

"So, how was it really?" you ask her.

"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."

"The cheek of them."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"

"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."

"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."

"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"

"You definitely should."

The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."

"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."

»»————-　★　————-««

Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.

"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?

"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."

"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."

Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.

"Do you have a wife, Officer?"

"I do," they reply.

"Is she a redhead?"

"She is."

"Works for SHIELD?"

"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.

"Y/N/N?"

"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.

In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.

Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"

"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."

"Is that why it's sound proofed?"

"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"

"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"

"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."

Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.

"So can I do debriefs at home now?"

"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."

"No chance of that."

"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.

She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."

"I know."

»»————-　★　————-««

Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)

[sinsofsummers]

sensational; part iii

6.1k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader part one | part two

summary: joel continues teaching you everything you need to know about desire. warnings: smut smut smut, 18+, mdni. yearning, teasing, thigh-sitting, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), fingers in mouth, joel almost loses control, age gap (reader is 25, joel is 56). i think that's everything. suchhhh impaired(drunk) editing. i'm so osrry. note: here it is. about a week later than i had planned. but i turned 21. cut me some slack HAHAHHAHA i hope you enjoy this unintentional third part to sensational! note: special shoutout to @cavillscurls bc she not only requested that joel call reader "babygirl" at least once but also that there be some aftercare so....this one's all for u pretty girl i hope your day is an easy one <3 ty for being my very first friend on here wahhh

Joel was used to the chill in his bones. It had been there since his thirty-sixth birthday, and had hardly begun to slip away until he'd met that quiet girl with a fiery spirit like his daughter. Ellie had made the icy tension thaw, and then he met her, the woman who'd begun to melt his very insides.

Was it her curiosity that was so...endearing? Astute? An inevitable addition to his patrols with her? Or was it the fact that she'd begun to smile when she saw him, if only a tight-lipped grin that emitted a soft glow like a secret shared with whispers?

He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what it was that had him hardening at the sight of her. So instead of thinking about it—something he wasn't very good at, anyway—Joel returned to his current position in the present moment.

He was on horseback, his gloved hands tightened on the reins, and she was perched in front of him, her back pressed gingerly to his chest and her thighs warming the insides of his.

Joel's mind wandered to the morality of his intentions, as they usually did when she was this close to him. What's she want with you, old man? That voice loved to pester him all day long, but he shoved it away this time when he pretended to adjust his hands on the reins. The movement made his arms tense around her frame, and other than her head tilting back to nudge his chin, there was no response. He thanked the horse for its strong, rocking movements that kept her body tense and pressed into his.

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he mused. And what a painless death it would be.

—

Despite the fact that you were entirely okay with this turn of events, you couldn't ignore the instinctual worry that bit at your insides. When you'd shown up at the stables that morning, Joel had already arrived, leading his horse by the reins.

"C'mon, doll," he said in that rough morning voice that was so attractive. "You're ridin' with me today."

Your brows had furrowed, and you looked toward the stables. "What about—"

Joel had shaken his head and held out a gloved hand for you. "Your horse is no good today," he said (with a less-than-convincing note of sorrow in his voice, but why would he show emotion for once in his life?), clearing his throat before finishing, "just you, me, and this one today," with a nod to his horse.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked as you took his hand, the heavy weight of his grip returning to you as a comfort now. "What's wrong with him?" He led you forward, but you couldn't help glancing back once more as if you were a kid getting dragged away by her parents from a candy store.

He squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you. "Gimme your hands, sweet girl," he murmured.

You obeyed without a second thought and let him help you up, the winter wind whipped around your hair despite it being trapped in your usual knit hat. His hands tightened around your hips as he booted you up, and you mourned the moment they left your body. Of course, that sensation didn't last long; he clambered up and mounted right behind you.

Oh. You hadn't considered that this would be the solution to your horse being incapable of patrolling today. Maybe this won't be so bad, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the chill. You let out a shaky breath at the press of his chest against your back.

"My horse?" you asked once more, despite not quite caring anymore; his arms were now enveloping you as he began making his way to the edges of Jackson.

His sigh created a brief cloud of mist in the wintry air, and the vibrations of his voice rumbled through your body. "Broken leg," he explained quietly, and you felt more than heard his words.

You wanted nothing more than to let yourself sink into the feeling of being so close to him like this, with your hips nestled right in front of his pelvis (a fact that was bound to distract you soon enough), but you forced yourself to inquire a final time.

"A broken leg?" you said. You didn't mean for it to come off as disbelieving, but...your mount had been just fine the day before.

Joel shrugged and instead of answering, he leaned in closer to your ear, his chapped lips scratching against the soft skin near your neck; your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. "Darlin'," he murmured, "don't you trust me?" One of his hands dropped the reins and curled around your middle, tugging you by the waist back into him. "I've got so much to teach you today."

The reminder that there was still more, that there was always more for Joel to teach you in the world of desire and sin...it was enough to have your mind going blank and your muscles relaxing at his touch. "Okay," you mumbled, not sure if he could even hear your answer.

His gloved hand moved up just a few inches before moving back to grab the reins, but you didn't miss the feeling (if only for a second) of his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts.

You sighed gently and leaned back enough for your head to rest against his chest, your body full encased by his broad shoulders and burly arms. It was secure, it was safe, and the heady scent of leather and Joel nearly made your head spin. With all the possibilities of what he might want to teach you today, on patrol and so close to one another...you weren't sure you'd survive.

It was only a matter of time before your hands and mind completely lost their withering hold on social decorum.

—

Joel's composure was the first to slip, but you weren't far behind—of course, you'd never admit it to him. You'd made it about an hour outside of Jackson, your body rocking deliciously against his, and nothing but the wind to accompany your soft voices as you spoke.

"Those girls haven't bothered me anymore, you know," you said, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. You nearly choked at the sight of him already looking down at you, his mustache twitching with his lips in a curious smirk. "Not sure what made them stop, though."

"S'good," he said, his jaw clicking before he continued. "But you're like an open book, doll," he said, eyes flitting back to his surroundings. "I'm sure they could see it on your face."

You huffed, cheeks warming again. "See what exactly?"

Joel reached down with a hand to run his fingers along your thigh, creeping closer to where a puddle of desire was growing between your legs. You leaned your head against his chest again and let out a wanton sigh, wishing his hands would creep closer to where you needed him most.

"That," he said, voice lilting with a satisfied arrogance. "It's that sweet face you make when you're wantin' somethin' from me."

"I don't have a face," you mumbled, your arms looping around his biceps and hanging on to them. It's terribly domestic, a voice murmured in your head, but you shoved it away. "What are you talking about?"

Joel leaned his head down to yours, his mouth in your hair. You felt him smile against your skin and he cooed, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl." He moved his hand to your thigh once more and chuckled into your hair when you rolled your hips back into his. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart."

You wanted nothing more than to sink into his soft touches and whine his name until he brought you to the edges of ecstasy again, but the winter wind howled in your ears and reminded you that you couldn't afford to lose all composure. There was a very real reason you were on patrol; it would have been irresponsible to indulge in the sweet pleasure of Joel's touch.

And yet—you couldn't help it when you lifted your chin and pressed a swift kiss to his jaw, hoping beyond hope that it might prompt him to touch you, to kiss you, to do anything to relieve the familiar ache that was growing. It was all you could do not to begin begging right then and there.

So when he suggested that the two of you take a pit stop at one of the old abandoned cabins along your route, you nodded feverishly. It's not irresponsible if we're taking proper precautions, you convinced yourself.

"C'mon, dollface," he murmured, pulling the reins to a halt in front of a dilapidated shack in the wintry landscape. "Can't hardly focus with you rubbin' up against me like that."

The breathless chuckle that you let out sounded nothing like yourself; you were giddy with the impending pleasure that was about to come from Joel's lips, his fingers, anything that he might deem useful in bringing you another crumbling orgasm.

You practically fell off the horse into his arms with your tingling excitement, and Joel chuckled as your chest collided with his. “So eager, darlin’,” he mused, adjusting your knit hat where it had fallen below your eyes. “Makin’ me feel so special with that sweet face,” he said, his large hand snaking around your back to support you as the two of you traipsed through the snow to the cabin. 

It was only a little alarming that his hands on your body were so familiar after just a few of his “lessons,” but you chose to ignore it and sink into the weight of his warm hands perforating your coat. “Joel,” you breathed, and you didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it. 

Joel pushed open the door to the cabin—it took a few tries; it was frozen shut—and tied up his mount. “C’mere,” he whispered as soon as the door was shut behind you. His lips were on yours before you could suck in a breath of anticipation, and oh, how you loved the scrape of his chapped lips against your skin when he moved to press kisses to the line of your jaw. 

“Been thinkin’ of you, dollface,” he mumbled when he pulled back, his breath fanning over your face. “Been thinkin’ of you a lot.”

You blinked up at him, your lips already wet and wanting for more of his attention. With that dark look in his eyes, he looked as if he might devour you without a moment’s notice. Despite your ever-present reticence toward the things that Joel had taught you so far, you couldn’t ignore the way that your mouth had dried, mind empty of all words.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing roughly. In pure humiliation, you leaned forward to hide your face in his chest, inhaling that comforting scent of leather—it both cleared and muddled your head. 

He let out a rumbling chuckle, a looser laugh than you’d ever heard from him, and he placed his gloved hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back up to him. “Yeah,” he said gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Probably a little too much, considering I can hardly get through the night without gettin’ a hard-on.”

Your cheeks warmed as you blushed, and you instinctively tried to duck your head once more. Of course, Joel wouldn’t let you; he quickly rid his hands of his gloves and returned them to your cheeks, the chill of his fingertips contrasting with the heat of your cheeks. “You gonna kiss me again?” you asked, your voice small in its pleading. “Please?” you added, the syllable even quieter than the last.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was to you or to himself. He pulled you closer, and you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your hip. “Gonna kill me, dollface,” he groaned before he captured your lips in another bruising kiss, one that had your legs buckling. He kept you upright, with his hands wrapped tightly around your back.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth into his kiss, hardly able to believe how natural it felt to kiss him now. A strangled moan left your mouth and he swallowed it into his own, drinking it like a sweet nectar from the gods. His hands came up to feverishly rid you of your winter coat and you eagerly assisted him, clawing at his layers right after. 

“Teach me,” you begged, pulling away to catch your breath. Your eyes didn’t even open; you were too blissed out to care what you looked like or what he looked like in front of you. “Teach me,” the words came out again, and your bottom lip quivered as if you might shed tears. Your thighs clenched together subconsciously, doing virtually nothing to assist in the pressure that was growing. 

Joel hummed and his thumb carefully swept a caressing touch under your eyes, as if catching any tears that might actually fall. “No need to beg anymore, babygirl,” he cooed, “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.” He tugged your hat from your head and smoothed over your undoubtedly knotted mess of locks. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a smirk at you. 

“Promise?” you said, again in that small voice that had you almost kicking yourself. You were supposed to be an adult, mature enough to handle all of this. And you are, the voice in your head spoke harshly, you are.

Joel just nodded and tilted his head back, gesturing for you to follow him further into the cabin. “Stand there for me, doll,” he said, leading you into what must have been the living room some twenty years ago. A couch that looked like it might collapse in on itself sat against the wall, the only piece of furniture in the room. 

You stood where he placed you, but his hands dropped from your body when he went to sit down on the couch. With one arm moving to lay across the back of the couch and his jean-clad legs spreading in the way that made you want to kneel in between them, Joel beckoned for you with his other hand. “Now c’mere,” he ushered, and you couldn’t move fast enough. 

Your hands reached out to grab for him, to take off his coat and his shirt and let him lay bare before you like he had in your bed, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “remember?”

You knew this; both times before this Joel had made it clear that you needn’t worry about getting him off. You were supposed to sit back and let him show you how to feel good, but you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to obey his request. You wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap like he’d had you the first time, and you wanted to rub yourself against his cock so you could see how he looked when he was lost in the throes of his desire. 

“Babydoll,” he nudged you gently with his voice, and you blinked. “Hear me?”

Swallowing hoarsely, you shook your head. “Mm?” you hummed in response.

Joel’s lips curled up in a soft smirk. “Already distracted,” he mused to himself. A hand dropped to his thigh, and your eyes latched onto it. You had the sudden urge to take those fingers into your mouth, to feel the strength of his fingertips on your tongue—the fact that those same digits had been shining with your release (more than once) had your legs wobbling once more. 

“You’re gonna stand there,” he said, adjusting himself on the couch in a way that had your eyes glued to the growing tent in his jeans, “and I’m gonna watch while you make yourself come.”

You blanched, and the spot between your legs pulsed at the idea. “What?” You couldn’t help the slight disappointment at the realization that this meant he wouldn’t be touching you.

“You heard me.”

“But…” your hands flexed, needing to hold onto something. Your desperation for release was almost enough to have you sinking to the floor. “But…I don’t know how—”

Joel nodded, “You do. I’ve shown you, remember?” His fingers tapped a few times on his thigh, and his eyes slipped to drag along your body as you stood just a few feet from him. “And you know I can’t always be there when you need to come, babydoll,” he hummed. “I need you to show me you’ve learned.”

“But—”

“Show me,” he said, his voice firm despite the gentleness in his face. He palmed his cock through his pants and bucked his hips up. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me, I’ll make it worth it.”

Despite his instructions, you shuffled forward, arms out and reaching for him. You paused in between his legs, feeling the heat from his legs radiating toward you. 

But Joel only shook his head with an amused smirk. “No, no, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll come just as quick even if I’m just watchin’ you. I need you to show me what you’ve learned,” he repeated his previous instruction. “Touch yourself, sweet girl. Lemme see how you make yourself feel good.”

You didn’t move, unsure of how to begin—as it was now clear that he wouldn’t let you touch him, nor would he be giving into your requests. Standing there in your sweater and jeans and winter boots, you felt foolish. 

“I know you know how to start, baby,” he encouraged you while moving his hand along his hard cock in his jeans. “Take those clothes off, pretty girl.”

With an instruction to follow, your hands began to move, ridding yourself of your sweater and pants, even your thick boots. Standing in just your worn bra, your cotton panties, and your thick wool socks, you looked shyly toward Joel. It felt somewhat humiliating to have his eyes so intently held on you, despite his face being the picture of approval. 

He moved his hand once more and then he was unzipping his jeans and reaching into his pants, letting his cock spring free. He let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation; you were sure there was a thick feeling of relief that washed over him at the removal of any tight restriction on his erection. “C’mon, baby,” he cooed, and your eyes widened as he licked a wide stripe on his palm, returning his hand to his cock to give it a languid stroke. “I know you can do it.”

You gingerly dropped a hand to your waist, fiddling with the worn out elastic band of your panties. In front of you Joel let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes growing even darker at the sight of your hand getting closer to your mound, where there was certainly a puddle growing. 

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he said gruffly, beckoning for you to step closer. “I know I said I wouldn’t touch, but holy fuck, dollface…I’ve never needed to feel something so bad in my life.”

You practically fell over your own two feet as you obeyed his request, stepping into the space between his legs. His cock was right there, and you wanted to put your tongue on the tip, to feel that bead of leaking seed that was sliding down the angry red head of his cock. “Joel—”

His only answer was with his two fingers pressing a featherlight touch to your bud, drawing a quick moan from your lips, your eyes closing and your hips rolling into the feeling.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby, I knew it,” Joel murmured, sitting forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. “You’re always so wet for me, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course you were; he knew this well enough now. But something about the fact that he kept asking…it only made you want him more. 

“Joel, please,” you begged, rolling your hips into his hand again and moaning desperately at the press of his hand against your bud. “I need you to—”

He pulled his hand away and sat back again. “Not yet, dollface,” he reminded you, returning his hand to his cock. “You haven’t even touched yourself, darlin’,” he teased, his tone a mocking coo. 

You let out another strangled whine, but shoved your hand into the waistband of your panties. “Fine,” you sighed, “but it won’t work.” As much as you wanted to come, you were reminded all too well of the last time he asked you to do this. You couldn’t obey his request, and he’d had to make you come all the same. So why would he make you go through the motions again?

Your finger caught on your clit and you inhaled sharply, eyes closing at the addictive sensation. You let your other hand slide up to your chest, instinctively massaging your own breast in the same way that Joel did—at least, as close of a replication as you could make. 

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he said in that southern drawl that had you perpetually weak in the knees. “Lookin’ so good like that, sweetheart, good girl,” he drew out the last two syllables, his teeth audibly gritting as he stroked his cock faster. 

You wanted to continue, wanted to hold onto the feeling of making him proud, but you didn’t know what to do. “Joel,” you begged, “I…” you trailed off.

Both of his hands came to your waist and you opened your eyes at one squeeze of your hips. “C’mere,” he groaned. “Just sit next to me, doll.” He helped you sit next to him, your head resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees came up to your chest, and he looped his thumbs into your panties, ridding you of them in a quick movement. 

Your head was spinning with the hopes that he might give in, that he might not make this foolish game go on for much longer. It had only been a minute or two, but you never wanted to make yourself come if Joel was always going to be so willing. “Joel—”

“Spread those pretty legs for me, baby,” he whispered, his big hands on your knees. When you couldn’t move your legs on your own, he gently nudged them apart, his eyes darting down to your dripping mound. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hand hovering over your folds, “even more appetising than I remember.”

The implication made your head reel. Surely he wouldn’t… 

But your thoughts were interrupted when he sat back at the other end of the couch, his cock sitting at the ready as he dragged his hand over it again. “I’m good at waiting, though,” he murmured to himself. “C’mon, princess,” he sighed, “just like we practiced. Hand on that pretty pussy, baby.”

The whine that left your throat was downright pornographic as you obeyed, the sound of his instructions shooting bullets of pleasure down your spine and straight to that sensitive bud at the crevice of your thighs. 

Just like we practiced, he’d said. You had no desire to disappoint him; you wanted to prove to him that you could do this, you wanted to see that look of flushed pride on his face when he came again. When you’d make yourself come. 

Your fingers slipped around your dripping cunt, still clumsy and untrained despite knowing just how Joel would make you come undone with his touch. You tried your best to replicate it, gliding your fingers in tight circles around your bud, or drawing long stripes in between your folds, but it just made you more frustrated. “Joel,” you whined again, “please.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. “You’re doing it, baby. Look at you, rubbin’ that pretty clit for all it’s worth.” His words were bruisingly confident, but his tone was shaky and the only evidence that he was dangerously close to coming before you. 

“Joel, I—” you circled your clit once more— “I need you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, and you felt him shift closer to you—just a centimeter. 

You pulled your own hand away from your clit, despite your body begging for more, and you looked for a moment at the shine on your fingers. “Joel,” you repeated, “I…I want you to tell me what to do.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then, “That so?” His movements had stopped. 

You nodded, and couldn’t help the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” Somehow your legs dropped open even wider, exposing yourself to him further. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gave yourself entirely to him. “I’ll do it.”

Joel had turned his chest to face you, and he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, ya know?” he said, and you thought it was a minor jab at your eagerness until he dropped his hand back to his lap and you saw that blissed-out smile that you were learning to ache for. “‘Course I’ll tell you what to do. If that’s what you want,” he answered, and you almost came at the sound of his voice. 

He shifted so his body was facing you; the sight of him with his shirt buttoned, his pants still on, but the zipper undone and his cock bobbing heavily as he moved…it was enough to have you rolling your eyes back. Joel Miller was sensational. The essence of sin and seduction, and you only wanted more.

“Lift this leg for me, baby,” he murmured as he lowered his chest to the couch. You let him move your ankle to rest on his shoulder, then the other ankle to match. “That’s it,” he cooed, “you’re such a quick learner, babydoll.”

You blushed at the nickname, and when he sank to his elbows with his eyes on your pussy, your eyes widened. “Joel—”

You’d heard of this type of pleasure, but you’d never thought it was something men actually did. When he looked up at you with that hungry look in his eye, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like one might do before eating an especially good meal, you realized another thing. 

You’d never thought this could be something that men actually enjoyed.

“You want instruction, babygirl?” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh and chuckling when you shivered. “I’ll give you instruction. Lay back and let me take care of you. You’re always so good at that, yeah?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer before he was dipping his head down to your most sacred spot, where you needed him most. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them against his ears as if they were keeping him warm in the cold temperatures outside. With one stripe from your weeping entrance to your quivering bud, Joel nearly made you come on the spot.

“Joel, I’m gonna—” 

He pulled back and smiled wickedly. “Already, baby? We’ve only just started,” he drawled, turning his head to kiss the inside of your other thigh. “Hold on to it for me, yeah? Gotta practice holding it for me, okay?”

You were too far gone to even grace his question with a response. All you could manage was a stuttering moan as you threw your head back and bucked your hips into his face, chasing your release.

Joel held your hips down with a light chuckle. “Wait, princess,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your clit before continuing, “you don’t wanna fail your lesson, do ya?”

The implication that something might happen—or decidedly not happen—if you were to come before he let you only spurred you on. “Joel, please—”

“Just a little longer, please, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle moan. His tongue grazed your clit once more and he closed his lips over your bud, suckling just lightly enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

It was then that you opened your eyes and looked at him; you wanted to see what he looked like with his mouth on your most sensitive spot if you were going to come. Your eyes caught on his hips, laid out on the couch further away from you. You blinked.

Joel was rutting into the couch. His hips were seemingly moving of their own accord, a smooth movement that was covered in sin and desperation. You thought about the fact that the curve of his hips would probably look like that if he were pressing his cock into you, and that was it. 

Your voice broke over the sound of your whines, and paired with his fingers coming up to press into your entrance, you were done for. You came hard over his fingers, your moans so loud that you thought someone would hear you all the way back in Jackson. “JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you cried, feeling the familiar rise of emotions in your throat. 

Joel pulled his head from your pussy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he smirked. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, although you weren’t sure you had the capacity to even be sorry just now; the sight of him getting off at the taste of you was enough to keep your mind busy for the next week. “I didn’t mean to—”

“S’okay, dollface,” he chuckled, “I forgive you. That pussy tastes too sweet to be mad about you comin’ all over my damn face.”

Your thighs lay open for another moment, and Joel absentmindedly put his hand over your clit to rub another gentle circle to your sensitive bud. He hummed when your hips bucked at the overstimulation before pulling his hand away. 

Your eyes dropped to his cock, sitting rock hard and definitely not spent. You reached out with your hand again, sitting up. The effects of your orgasm were still heavy on your mind, but in a wordless movement you sank to your knees before him. “You didn’t come,” you said, more of a question than a statement. 

He shook his head. “Don’t matter,” he said, patting a hand on your head. “That was just for you, doll.”

You frowned. “But—” you dipped your head down, aiming your mouth at his tip despite not knowing what to do beyond that. All you knew was that this was something he needed. The tip of his cock was leaking profusely now, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel. 

“We haven’t practiced that one yet, pretty girl,” he said softly, and lifted your head from where it was aiming. “Trust me, doll, I want it just as bad as you want to give it to me.” He traced his thumb along the line of your nose, a habit that he’d been starting to pick up. “But we’ll do it when you’re ready.”

“Then I wanna practice,” you insisted, your knees digging into the cold wooden floor. You didn’t want to think about how you looked, your face showing the remnants of your orgasm and your entrance starting to drip once more at the thought of pleasing him. “Let me practice,” you repeated. 

He smiled ruefully. “Got nothin’ to practice on, sweet thing,” he said softly. “We’ll practice another day.”

You took his hand wordlessly, not sure where this bout of confidence was coming from. It was like you were drunk on the thought of making him come. He let you hold his hand in yours, and with one look up at him, holding his eyes in your gaze, you opened your mouth to slide three of his fingers onto your tongue. He tasted like salt and the sweet release of your own body. 

Joel jerked in your grip, his cock bobbing toward you and his hand nearly shoving itself all the way down your throat. “Holy fuck, doll,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “S’enough to make a man leave his wife.”

You chuckled, knowing he was spewing nonsense from his lips now, but you pressed his fingers further down your throat, only stopping when they brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag. 

“That’s okay, babygirl,” he said with another affectionate pat on your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Thought I was doing well,” you said sheepishly when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. A string of spit connected his fingers to your lips.

He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are, dollface,” he said. “You are. Maybe it’s me who needs a second to regroup.”

You knew it wasn’t true; his angry red tip was more than enough of a conflicting response to his words. But you let him pick you up from the floor and cradle you in his arms over his lap, rubbing his hands in circles over your body. “You’ll let me make you feel good, though?” you asked softly. 

Joel smiled. “‘Course,” he reassured you with a kiss on the cheek. “Next time,” he promised. 

It was enough. You nodded and rested your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the gentle curtain of sleep cover you. “M’tired,” you whispered, every inhibition gone. This man had seen and touched every part of you; there was no point in being shy.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, and when his face wasn’t in between your legs, it was an awfully domestic phrase. “Just lemme hold your for a second. Then we’ll go back home.”

—

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get back on the horse, your clit sensitive and your whines hoarse with the constant friction as you rode back to Jackson. Your head had leaned back against Joel’s chest and he rested his chin against the top of your head, a constant warm presence as you rose from your post-orgasm haze. 

A happy accident, a faraway voice mused in your head. One horse with Joel on patrol? A dream. 

That is, until Tommy came out of the stables as you two approached. 

“Why’d you leave her horse here?” he called out, and you felt Joel tense behind you. “You forget how to ride a damn horse, darlin’?” Tommy said to you with that same southern drawl that his older brother shared in his voice. 

You blushed as Joel helped you down from his mount, and you hid your uncontrollable laughter behind your hand when he shared some tense words with his brother. 

“Fuck off,” Joel finished, but by the look of his wide eyes and red cheeks, you knew it held no malice. He was embarrassed. He’d faked your horse’s injury so he could hold you close. The realization made your head whirl. 

You walked off from the stables when the horse was returned to his stall, and you giggled when you heard Joel hurry to catch up with you. 

He looked around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby, and then he delivered a quick swat to your ass, making you nearly trip in the snow. “S’not nice to laugh at an old man,” he said with a straight face, all business. But you could see the uncharacteristic rosiness in his cheeks, betraying his continued humiliation. 

You weren’t sure where the confidence in your voice came from, but you sighed with a, “Yeah,” before nudging him with your elbow. “Can’t help it when it’s your own brother, Joel.”

He shook his head and your arm tingled when he reached out with his gloved hand to clasp onto yours. “What am I gonna do with you, dollface, huh?” he mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if you were meant to hear it until he looked down at you with a gentle smirk and a raised brow. 

You shrugged, your own cheeks heating up at the implications of what you were about to say. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Make another lesson out of it, I suppose.”

Joel just stared at you, a smug expression on his face. He tore his eyes from yours and played the part of nonchalance when he responded smoothly, mirth twinkling in those brown eyes you’d grown so attached to. “Maybe I will.”

this is so sinful i'm so tipsy rn i hope you liked it!!!! tysm for reading i love u all <3

tags (i'm so sorry it wouldn't let me tag everyone!!! i'll do the rest of my tags in the morning!!!): @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @mingiast @darkroastjoel @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @buckbarnesdollsposts @kamcrazy123 @djarins-wife @lovelyladiess @impossiblebluebirdchaos @salsdemise @daddy-din @chaotic-mystery @laughcryreadsmutrepeat @prose-before-hoes-blog @morgaussy @thepriceofdevotion @chateausophie @livyjh @kittenlittle24 @ever-siince-new-york @julietamidala @3xclusive-y0ni @paanchusblog @okdeedee @scarletsloveletter @paleidiot @cleopatra99 @samuncenxsored @yourfavoriteredheadbitch-blog @brie-annwyl @spxctorsslxt @pattwtf @meijasworldasf @easaud @yuk-for-president @withrice-ontoast @ssssc0m @nini123 @bookishofalder @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

[green-swan]

cigarette or zoot? (pt. 1) | joost klein x f1! driver (fem!reader)

in which london and smoking are synonymous with meeting a cute dutch artist

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when AVROTROS approached her about eurovision, she thought they made a mistake. max was dutch. she wasn't. her lithuanian roots were deeper than any other identity she could've carved for herself. in the end she agreed; going in their cars with max around the city of malmö, visiting a few eurovision parties and most importantly, interact with joost klein (whom she didn't know, mind you) and teach him how to use an F1 simulator. this was going to be a heavy week. thank god it was in a month, right now she had a race to win.

first came the party - london was a welcome destination for the young driver. she thrived under the busy nature of it even in what some would call late, and others early, hours. she couldn't say the same for crowds though, the moving mosh of strangers all too close to each other and trying to show their superiority (the latter was aimed at men to be fair). she did see silvester, and the two had a lengthy conversation that didn't come to a conclusion but rather stayed at "what the fuck, let's make lithuania internationally famous!" she had hoped for a good place in eurovision, if not victory, while silvester (silvestras sounded more like home) had voiced his wish for her to win the upcoming miami grand prix and not only become the first female to do so, but also the first from lithuania. the pressure was on.

unfortunately, she lost silvester after getting a drink, so what really was the point of staying in the now airless room? she grabbed her drink and went to the rooftop that really should've been closed. her short frame slumped against a railing and she lit a cigarette, making it a point to hold it between her thumb and index finger. it was quiet, and london shimmered in different shades of yellow and white. so many people, some praying, some arguing, some alone. it felt peaceful despite the harsh wind that threatened to put out her cigarette.

"cigarette or zoot?" an accented voice sounded out, breaking the howls of wind. she turned around, spotting a man in what would've been a formal outfit had it not been for the pyramid-shaped shoulder pads on his blazer. joost klein, the man she was meant to interact with in front of cameras later that month. "cigarette," she answered, "though they call them something else here," she finished with an unsure smile. "i thought we couldn't bring tobacco in here?" he questioned, with a miscievous undertone in his voice. "they didn't check me, so it's on them," the driver shrugged, "why? you want one?"

"god, yes please!"

she took out another one from her pack, put it in between her glossed lips (joost thought that the gloss suited her) and lit it before giving it to the dutch man. "you know, i once tried eating a cigarette," he started, earning an incredulous look from the shorter girl. "what? did it taste good?" her curiosity was cute, "what do you think?"

"i once nearly swallowed jet fuel," she said with sympathy, "i get it."

joost knew who she was, well vaguely. the only female formula 1 driver and the only lithuanian on the grid. so why did AVROTROS want him to interact with her in addition to her dutch teammate? by that point, the wind had calmed down, an eery silence on brink of errupting had it not been for the music blasting from downstairs. she hummed a few lyrics before he spoke up, startling her heart as if she'd forgotten that he was indeed still there.

"can i take a picture of you right now?"

"why?"

"you're pretty. you look really beautiful in this moment, and i want to capture it."

she thought for a moment. "okay, if you let me take one of you after." he smiled. (he was so going to convince her to be on the cover of his next album)

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note: jumping on the joost klein bandwagon (hehe been a fan for a while! got tickets for his europapa tour so i've been riding on cloud 9). i also love formula 1 and so thought why not combine them?

as the first paragraph indicates there will be (probably short and sweet) chapters and maybe extra ones after if this goes well <3

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →

summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[nejiverse]

SWEET-TEETH

Satoru Gojo

In which Gojo just so happened to pass his love for sweets onto his daughter. Fem! Reader

cw: a hyper toddler, cranky y/n, megumi makes an appearance

745 words

Sugar is worse than crack.

No one could convince you otherwise in this moment in time.

A nap. That's all you wanted to take. Were you granted that simple luxury? Absolutely not.

Not with a man child and an actual child under the same roof.

During pregnancy you prayed, pleaded that your child wouldn't inherit Gojo's sweet tooth but she did.

Not only that but she also inherited Gojo's white hair and blue eyes.

9 months all for your daughter to wholly be a daddy's girl in both looks and personality.

You got out of bed and haphazardly threw on one of your husband's shirts before leaving your shared room and following the high pitched screaming and squealing which ultimately led you to the kitchen.

You observed Gojo leaning against the island as he watched the toddler run around the kitchen with an amused expression. She was clad in just a diaper and a purple dora the explorer vest. Along with her slightly damp hair, you assumed Gojo had just taken her for a bath not too long ago.

But gosh, if it were possible for her to bounce off the ceilings then you were certain she'd be doing so right now. She was waddling around faster than her little legs could take her.

"Why?", you crossed your arms over your chest and approached Gojo groggily.

"Babe! You're finally awak—".

You certainly weren't awake by choice.

"Why", you interrupted him and this time it was more of a command than a question.

"...why what?", he tilted his head with that stupid clueless expression that made you wanna punch him in the face.

Gojo was able to figure out from your agitated state that you didn't wake up by yourself but that you were actually woken up against your will, more than likely by all the screaming from your toddler. He forgot how much you hated being woken up.

"Why did you give her sugar", you irked.

"Whaaaat! You can't just jump to conclusions silly", he laughed, trying to ignore the deathly glare you were giving him.

"Satoru", you called him by his full name and not by Toru. It made him want to crawl into a hole and die.

"I know a sugar-fuelled screech when I hear it".

“But Y/nn! I can’t just eat sweets and not give her some”, he whined.

“What sweets?”, you asked out of curiosity.

You saw your husband’s whole body flinch at your words as his index finger tapped against the island idly.

It was something he subconsciously did whenever he was lying or hiding something.

“It was mochi wasn’t it”, specifically his favourite, Kikufuku.

He let out a nervous laugh and averted his gaze from you.

“What did I tell you last time?”.

“I can only have mochi three times a week at most…”, he sulked. “So I don’t get diabetes..”.

And he had it yesterday, the day before and the day before that.

You shook your head. “To be honest Toru, I think today’s the day I finally kill you”.

Although your words were nothing to smile at, he smiled anyway because you called him by his nickname. It meant you forgave him (in his head anyway). It just meant you were over it more than anything.

In that moment, you three heard the front door squeak open. The same door you’ve been pestering Gojo to lubricate for weeks.

D/n squealed, the sounds rivalling that of the squeaky door as she ran over to the door and smiled widely at the sight of Megumi. She hugged his legs and as he was about to routinely lift her into his arms, she ran away again as she continued her unbearable shouting.

She would usually make grabby hands at him to lift her up, but not today. She wanted to continue running around.

Megumi felt betrayed and he thinks he knows the reason for this betrayal.

He walked into the kitchen where the toddler ran into and looked at Gojo with narrowed eyes and a scowl.

“Why’d you give her so much sugar?”.

Gojo’s mouth fell open as he looked at you then Megumi. “How the hell do you guys know I gave her sugar??!”.

“I know a sugar-fuelled screech when I hear it”.

Gojo swore he felt like deja vu just now or something.

“That’s what I said!”, you exclaimed.

masterlist :)

[justauthoring]

Shoko Just Can't be Right [2]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if shoko's convinced and maybe she's just right?

a/n: finally wrote the second part.... hehe.

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three - four

-

"There is no way."

"Uh, yes, there is."

Sending Shoko a blank look, you scoff.

But, as per her style, she doesn't relent.

"Y/N," she deadpans, reaching across the desk to take your hands in her own, squeezing them enough to pull your gaze on her's once again. "I say this with complete and utter confidence, they're in love with you."

"Shoko," you call back, mimicking her tone; "they're in love with each other."

"True," she offers with a light shrug. "But also you."

Your mind blanks with the utter disbelief and ridiculousness of it all. "Is that even... possible? I mean, to be in love with two people at once?"

You didn't think so.

"Probably," she shrugs, "I mean with love anything's possible, right?"

And you can tell with the shit-eating grin on her face, she's finding this all too funny. Honestly, if you were on her side of things, you'd probably get a kick out of the whole thing as well but alas, you weren't and it wasn't easy to ignore the crushing of your heart as the hope you're desperately trying to hold back tries to sliver it's way past.

Ugh. Hope. What an entirely stupid and ridiculous--

"They do say that."

Back straightening, every muscle in your body tightens at the sound of Gojo's voice. It was, honestly, the last person you wanted to hear right that second; by default just because it was, well, him, but also because with Gojo, Geto was usually trailing behind...

A glance over your shoulder tells you you're correct.

Just as you thought.

You catch Shoko perking up out of the corner of your eye, and instantly a sense of dread floods you; this cannot be good.

"What are you two talking about?" Geto asks, coming to a stop next to Gojo, hands shoved leasurely into his pocket, brow raised with curiosity.

"Well—"

"Nothing!" You cut in sharply before Shoko can finish, sending her a glare over your shoulder (to which she rolls her eyes), pushing yourself to your feet. "Actually, we should be going because we—"

"Awehhh!" A loud whine cuts you off, eyes flickering over to Gojo whose slumped over dramatically; "but I was hoping you'd wanna hang with us."

Hang with them?

Alone?

That sounds like both a blessing and absolute nightmare. Especially with the thoughts that Shoko has invested in your mind—you could barely look at them now without thinking about her words; they're in love with you. God, why did she have to go around telling you that?

Making you think—for even just a second—that that could ever be true.

Because it wasn't. Obviously.

Geto and Gojo loved each other. That was true. Yes, that had been true since the very first moment you'd laid eyes on the both of them. The last to join them in their first year. The two of them, including Shoko, had already gotten aquainted with one another (some more than others). The three of them had spent four whole months with just them and no one else and had been able to bond.

And then you came in.

Clueless about the jujutsu world and about what a jujutsu sorcerer even was. Your whole world had been turned upside down and you were far outside of your element.

And yet, despite all that, you'd walked into that classroom that day and amongst Gojo's rather cocky greeting, Geto's simple one and Shoko's enthusiastic one (she'd expressed her fondness quite plainly for no longer being the only girl), you'd seen how much Geto and Gojo loved each other.

They were pretty obvious about it, even if at the time neither of them had known about the other's feelings.

So, yes, Shoko couldn't be right. She knew she wasn't saying it all to be mean, she wasn't like that—clearly she'd seen or heard something that had lead her to this incorrect assumption.

Because that's all it was.

An assumption.

One you wouldn't let yourself be swayed by for one second.

"Y/N?"

Blinking, you're pulled from your thoughts with a snap, focusing in on Geto who's leaning down to meet your gaze, concerned, with a baffled Gojo slightly behind him, the both of them looking at you rather intensely.

And, when you turn your head to the right, Shoko's gone.

"Are you okay?"

"Where..." Your words trail, in disbelief.

"Oh," Geto mumbles, pulling back as he realizes where you're looking. "She left for a smoke, said that she didn't mind rescheduling your plans. I do believe she added to the end of it, 'anything to get Gojo to shut up'."

"Hey!"

That sneaky little—

You turn to face both boys, quite honestly dumbstruck.

But then Gojo is shoving his face in yours, grinning; "so? Let's go!"

You sputter; "wh-where?"

-

To a sweets cafe. That's where.

Gojo all but drags you there, ignoring your protest to at least let you change, simply calling over his shoulder that; 'you look adorable!' which absolutely was not true. You hadn't worn your uniform that day since it wasn't a school day, and you and Shoko had had plans to spend the day together campus which had lead you to wear a simple skirt with an oversized sweater over it. You weren't expecting to leave or go out or least of all be going out with both Geto and Gojo or else you would've probably dolled yourself up at least a little.

Which, yes, Gojo's words, albeit simple, did leave you even more flustered, cheeks flushed and stuttering for a response all whilst Geto chuckled lightly behind you, clearly amused to himself.

But both Geto and Gojo are dominating of your time and don't allow you even a second of an escape, chatting your ears off happily whilst Gojo goes to the counter to order an array of sweet, leaving you and Geto to find a table.

You have to admit that the cafe is quite cute and the sweets you'd managed to grab for yourself (with the help of Geto, who promptly slapped Gojo's hand away when he tried to steal one of them) were delicious. Geto had gone back to the counter to order you a drink and although you weren't always used to be with either of them alone, the two of them were chatty enough that you didn't feel awkward or tense with silence.

It wasn't that you didn't get along with them. You did. Despite your rocky first impression of Gojo, you got along with the both of the extremely well.

But that was at school. In class. Or, at the very least, with Shoko. You weren't used to having to fend off the both of them and although you cared for them both greatly, they were both intimidating in different ways.

In ways you weren't.

Shoko always said you were too quiet. Too easy. You said yes to anything someone asked you of and you didn't often argue even if it wasn't something you weren't comfortable with. It had taken Shoko months before you properly opened up to her, but Geto and Gojo were confident and skilled and people seemed to bend over backwards for them just because, well, they were them.

People treated them differently than they treated you because you were quiet where they were loud, nervous where they were confident, and soft where they were hard.

(Little did you know that Geto and Gojo absolutely adored this about you—despite how incredibly self-conscious you were about it yourself).

Still, the day goes on well. And you find yourself rather enjoying their company.

You've all been there for just over an hour when you excuse yourself to the washroom, slipping past Geto in a way that has your cheeks burning red and flustered as you make your way to the ladies room.

It's on your way back that things take a bit of a downward shift.

A firm hand wraps itself around your upper arm, halting you in your tracks and pulling a surprised gasp from your lips as your world is tilted on it's axis briefly.

Then, suddenly, there's a group of boys surrounding you.

"Hey," one of them smiles at you, though it's all cold and no warmth. "Do you go to school around here? Don't think we've seen you before."

"And I think we'd remember a face like yours." Another one pipes up, your head shifting to the right to find him towering over you.

The one on your left steps closer, smirking down at you. "Noticed it as soon as you walked in here," he grins, wide and menacing. His eyes drift across you, low in a way that makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, then back up to your eyes. "You new?"

They're too close.

"N-No," you force out, shaking your head as you try to push them away. "Sorry, my-my friends are—"

"Yeah, those two guys, right?"

A hand falls on your back, and you tense.

"We could show you a far better time, you know?"

"Yeah," a laugh, "why settle for them, when—"

Another hand falls on you. But it's different. Warmer. Familiar.

You're pulled away and tucked against a chest, glancing up to see Geto's familiar figure looming behind you, his gaze threatening but it instantly softens as he glances down at you.

Gojo steps in front of you, blocking you from their view.

"I do believe you're making Y/N uncomfortable," Gojo grounds out and his voice is so unlike anything you've ever heard. It's dark, cruel, all trace of his usual goofiness and teasing gone.

You can't see his face, but if it's anything like Geto's, you're sure the face matches his tone.

"I would fuck off now." Geto growls from behind you, low enough you feel his chest rumble in reaction. "Before we make you."

You don't see it. Geto doesn't let you. But none of the three boys even get a word out before they're scampering off with paled skin and pleading cries of mercy, racing out of the cafe and not sparing another glance back.

What—

Gojo spins to face you and he's grinning, wide and bright, stepping towards you. "Sorry about that darling," he calls out, ruffling your hair. "We got worried when you took a while to come back."

"Should've called for us," Geto mumbles, squeezing your shoulder in a soft, reassuring sort of way. "Let us know you were in trouble."

Gojo's hand falls on your cheek, cupping it, face suddenly serious but not in the same menacing way as before but concerned. "We'll always come when you're in trouble."

Geto nods; "so, don't feel afraid to rely on us."

They're in love with you.

Shoko's word taunt you in the back of your mind, completely stunned by Geto and Gojo as they move to walk, neither of them letting go of you, Geto's hand on your back and Gojo's hand wrapped around yours, leading out of the cafe.

They're close. They still close. Refusing to slip away.

I mean with love anything's possible, right?

Shoko just couldn't be right. She just couldn't...

Could she?

[arminsumi]

Can i request megumi comforting reader after a bad day? i need happy comfort fluff today and you words are magic

★ Stargazing with Megumi

★ Pairings : fem reader / Megumi

★ Synopsis : Megumi takes you stargazing. Who knew he was such a space nerd?

★ Content : fluff, comfort, cheesy/dorky flirting

★ Note : 🪄🔮 sprinkling cosmic happiness dust on u rn!! hope u feel better!!

Arms spread out, laid on your back in the cool grass as a humid summer breeze drifts by, looking up at the dusky purple sky as stars slowly start to appear one by one.

Megumi shifts around next to you, trying to get comfortable. He bends his knees, you glance at his legs and note how much longer his legs are than yours.

A soft sigh leaves his nose. He brings his hands together over his midriff and fidgets his fingers while stealing sideways glances of you.

One particular star in the sky has caught your attention. It shines like a jewel. You blink at it, ignoring all the other littler stars that are coming out.

"Megumi, which star is that?" you ask.

"That's Venus."

You stare at Venus. "Why is it so much brighter than the rest?" you wonder aloud.

Megumi looks over at you, his heart throbs, then he looks back to Venus.

"Because it has thick clouds that reflect lots of sunlight." he answers your curiosity, "Uh, and it's the closest to earth. You know, it's also the hottest planet in our solar system — because of its clouds."

He goes on a long, dorky ramble about planets and constellations. You smile and listen to him geek out about space.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Just a few hours earlier, Megumi had found you lingering gloomily on the steps outside Jujutsu High.

He did a double take and furrowed his brows when he saw your weighted expression. Characteristically, he sunk his hands into his pockets and approached you coolly.

"What's that heavy face for?" he asked.

"Bad day." you shrugged.

"Oh..." he stiffened, "What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"No, nothing in particular happened." you replied, "It's just been one of those days, you know?"

He scrambled his brain for ideas that could make you feel better.

What would the others do?

What would Yuji do? He'd crack jokes until you smiled and then infect you with his contagious laughter. What would Nobara do? She'd take you out on the town for retail therapy — and hype you up in the fitting rooms until you felt like the hottest person in the world. What would Gojo do? Probably give you one of those bone-breaking hugs while saying something dumb like "Don't be sad, it's just life, kid."

But joking didn't come naturally to Megumi, and he didn't believe in retail therapy, and he was too shy and reserved to give you a bone-breaking hug, and he was too sensitive as a person to tell you to just get over it.

"Uh, do you want to stargaze with me?" he asked.

That was the only idea he could come up with. Laying in the grass and stargazing was something he did when life exhausted or disappointed him. The stars could call back his calmness.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

"... I feel bad for Mercury, it must be lonely without moons." Megumi finishes his long ramble about Mercury.

"I think I'm Mercury." you joke, laughing at yourself.

Megumi looks over at you, "Then I'll be your moon and keep you company."

Your cheeks warm up.

"Okay, then let's tell 'em to rename Mercury to Megumi and throw a me into its orbit, too."

Megumi fidgets with his fingers more as you and him flirt like dorks.

"... yeah, and then you can orbit around me." he nods.

"Sounds like a good time. I'd love to orbit around you."

His cheeks go red, but the lamps are too far away to illuminate his face and reveal his blush to you. So you just barely see his lips purse together into a smile.

"I'd also love to orbit around you. I could be like your moon admirer."

You burst out laughing at last, and then Megumi feels accomplished; he could actually fix your mood with some stargazing and dorky astral flirting.

For the rest of the night, he teaches you how to spot famous constellations and passionately talks about outer space. At some point, when he's saying something about Pluto, you zone out to his voice.

"... and you know, personally, if I were Pluto I'd be enraged. How dare they."

"You got a bone to pick with NASA, Megumi?" you chuckle.

"It wasn't NASA it was the IAU. And yes I have a bone to pick with them."

"So, why was Pluto downgraded to a dwarf planet?" you ask.

Megumi clicks his tongue, "Uhhh... something about it not absorbing surrounding debris or something? Like asteroids and stuff. But jeez, maybe the asteroids are Pluto's friends and he doesn't wanna absorb them, you know?"

You turn on your side and use your arm as a pillow. Megumi feels you looking at him, so he looks over at you.

"You're quite passionate."

"That's a nice way of calling me a space nerd."

"No, I mean it! I hardly ever see you talking so heatedly about anything. You're usually pretty calm."

Megumi smiles a little. "Bet it's funny to see me heated about big rocks floating in a vacuum, huh?"

"Yeah it's hilarious. Anyways... we should get back before we fall asleep here."

"Have you never slept under the stars? It's a great experience." Megumi says.

"I have not. But it's getting cold so... you better keep me warm."

Megumi tenses up as you snuggle him. The sudden closeness and feeling of your warmth and softness takes him aback and he goes completely silent.

You rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, sinking into him like a pillow.

"Hey Megumi?"

"Yes?"

"Isn't Venus the planet of love?"

"Yes...?"

"Nothing, nothing... just thinking."

His heart pounds.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Hi anla! are you comfortable writing a Tsireya x fem! Omatikaya! reader where reader is very tough and intimidating and is quiet and prefers to spend time alone. Tsireya finds her by the water one time instead of being with her family and tries to talk to her but gets blown off— she then makes it her mission to get close to reader and after a while reader lets her?? idk maybe some cute slow burn romance? thank you and ur writing is sooo good!

Pairing: Tsireya/Fem!Reader (Sully daughter, lol)

Word Count: 1,572

Warnings: Cuteness overload? Small mention of violence? Hinted courting? Not sure what else, but this was written on my phone, so it's not in my best element and is also shorter than I wanted.

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter

A/n: I definitely played into the unspoken fact that Na'vi, or at least Forest Na'vi, are basically cats 😅

~~~~~~~~~

When you first brushed off Tsireya's friendly conversation, the chief's daughter was beside herself all night thinking she had done something wrong, wondering why anyone wouldn't want a new friend in a strange, foreign place far away from home. Tsireya knew that if she was in your place, she'd be desperate for new friends to keep herself sane so she wouldn't feel as homesick.

Needless to say it was a little hurtful and confusing when you completely ignored her attempts at befriending you. You, the sibling born between Kiri and Lo'ak, didn't appear interested in anyone or anything other than your space. Your brothers and sisters, who are way more outgoing and eager to befriend Tsireya and the other reef children, don't even appear bothered by your mannerisms. Tsireya decided to ask Lo'ak why that was.

According to your younger brother, you have always been this way. You kept to yourself and only made time for family when you absolutely had to.

"What about friends?" Tsireya had asked, bewildered.

Lo'ak simply shrugged, "She considers us her friends, too."

That baffled the reef girl to no end. How can someone not want to find friends outside of her own family? Wouldn't you get tired of them and need to talk to someone outside of your circle of relatives? Tsireya can understand having boundaries but to this extreme? It both confused and intrigued her.

No longer hurt by your behavior, her curiosity had gotten the better of Tsireya. Even though you were a little intimidating, it didn't sway her from trying to hang out with you more.

She first started by just simply staying by your side. She didn't talk or anything, just sat or walked by your side, regardless of the side glances you gave her. Despite wanting to fill any awkward silence between the two of you, she kept quiet and instead just tried to get you used to her presence, wanting you to at least trust and feel comfortable around her. Whenever you side-eyed Tsireya, she simply smiled and ignored how put-off and tough you looked.

Lo'ak had never seen a cat before in his life, but from what his father had told him, you were very much like one. Jake affectionately compared you to a stray cat all the time, even more so than Spider. To gain your trust, someone would need to have unlimited patience and kindness. No one outside of your family had ever tried and if they did, gave up too easily. Spider was the only exception. Growing up together, you silently considered him your family just as much as your siblings.

However, while watching Tsireya try to approach you with her silent tactics, Lo'ak couldn't help but agree with his father about the stray cat's comment.

Once it's safe to assume you didn't care whether or not Tsireya was hanging out with you, she moved on to small, teeny tiny talks. She does this by complimenting you.

"Your hair is really beautiful today."

"I love that bracelet Tuk made for you. It compliments your eyes."

"You're amazing at fishing!"

It was... like walking on thin ice. You didn't say anything back, but your expression made you look wary of the compliments. If your hair wasn't hiding them, Tsireya would've seen the dark blush that enveloped them. Once you are no longer entirely put off by this step of conversing with you, the chief's daughter starts letting you in on all of her village gossip.

"Don't let Rotxo know I told you this, but he's very infatuated with Kiri."

"My mother had to treat one of our deep divers who thought it was a good idea to wrestle with his own tsurak."

"Our best singer thinks she can fool everyone by always wearing a shawl, but we all know she's trying to hide her growing belly."

You never say anything in response to the gossip, but Tsireya didn't miss the way your ears twitched, letting her know that you were listening to her, regardless of how you felt about village rumors. It made her smile, knowing that you were paying attention. She hadn't realized, but Tsireya had found herself enjoying talking to you, even though you never responded. What was once an attempt to get you to like her ended up being something that she ended up liking about you. Tsireya is one who is never at a loss for words and has even been told at times -mostly by her brother- that she talks too much. So to have someone not say a word but she knows is listening to every word she says was heartwarming, to say the least.

The curiosity and drive to be your friend slowly turned into an infatuation when she got you to smile for the first time.

She had boldly decided to gift you something but knew that it wouldn't be genuine if she didn't make something that you liked. Instead of jewelry, she made a small shell ornament meant to go on the front of your ikran's harness. When she handed you the gift, she felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs at the sight of your smile.

It was small, but it was definitely there. You had what Lo'ak and Spider would use to call a "resting bitch face" and so any other emotion you expressed was easy to place. Tsireya found herself wanting to weave your smile into her memory, to swim to the Cove of the Ancestors as fast as possible to connect to the Spirit Tree and have your smile forever remembered by Eywa.

"I don't know why you like her so much," Ao'nung comments as he and his sister do their morning chores. He visibly shivers with his usual, permanent scowl ebbed on his face, an expression he most definitely inherited from Ronal, "She looks like she could rip my throat out with her teeth."

Poor, sweet, innocent Tsireya found herself shocked as something warm and pleasant rolled in her stomach, the image of you being so ferocious sending a weak chill down her spine. Unbeknownst to Ao'nung, his sister was in a dilemma, beside herself as to why it pleased her at the mere thought of you being able to end someone just by using your teeth. Trying to hide the growing blush rising to her face, Tsireya kept her head down and purposely focused on the fishing net she was mending. 

"She's strong and fierce," the reef girl simply states, "And she's a good listener."

Ao'nung squints at her, baffled and put off by Tsireya's observation of you, but doesn't comment further.

But this strange friendship between you and his sister only baffled him further when the next time all of the reef children and Sullys were working together to build a strong canoe. You had approached the group, much to everyone's surprise, and held your hand out to the chief's daughter.

"Reya..."

All eyes quickly glance between you and Tsireya, not sure who everyone should be looking at. Rotxo and Ao'nung's jaws drop, never knowing what your voice sounded like before now. Ao'nung is even more affronted by the nickname you gave his sister. No one calls her that.

Tsireya's face visibly brightens as if you had just shown her the stars for the first time. Standing up to join you, she holds her hand out as you place something down in the center of her palm. 

Your smile had returned as she drew close, faint and perhaps a bit shy, but it was present and it made her heart skip a beat as you whispered, "A piece of the Omatikaya."

You drew your hand away and then quickly turned around, walking back down the beach from the way you came. Tsireya nearly whined when she could no longer feel the heat that naturally radiated from your skin before remembering the item now nestled in her hand. Looking down, she uncurls her fingers and gasps quietly.

It was a beautiful choker made out of red and orange beads, tied tightly together, meant to climb up her neck and make her look taller, something similar to what she'd seen Neteyam and Neytiri wear. She had never worn anything with such bright, warm colors, reminding her of the fire in your yellow, piercing eyes. Without a second thought, she removed her own necklace and replaced it with yours, her fingers shaking with excitement as she clasped it around her neck. Beaming proudly, she turned back to your siblings and the other reef children to show off your gift, and while some of them were speechless, Tuk wasn't the least bit surprised by the exchange she had witnessed and squealed.

"It looks so pretty on you! I was watching her make that for hours and couldn't wait to see how it turned out!"

The young Na'vi girl's statement had everyone finally blinking from their shock, Rotxo even going as far as complimenting Tsireya's new necklace while your siblings and even Ao'nung all looked at one another with wary suspicion. Ao'nung waited until Tsireya was caught up speaking adamantly to Tuk and Rotxo before he snapped quietly at the other Sully siblings.

"What in Eywa's name was that??"

Lo'ak's jaw tightens but he doesn't say a word, briefly remembering another fun fact about cats that his father once told him. Something about what it means when a cat likes or trusts another animal or person, they tend to start gifting things like dead rodents. 

He visibly shivers, hoping his sister won't go as far as to start bringing dead things to Tsireya.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

RULES

REQUEST

TAGLIST

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

good luck, babe! [e.w x fem!reader.]

chapter one.

author's note!<3 - this is inspired by chappell roan's unreleased song good luck, babe! i lllloooovveee chappel roan! this was originally going to be just a LONG ASS one-shot but i don't think i can write any more tonight 😭😭 . BUT I REALLY WANNA PUBLISH IT SO HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKE IT!!!! also forgive me if there's any grammar/spelling errors... i'm posting this at 12:59 am🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶 . reblogs and comments are SO appreciated!!! i busted my ass for y'all 🤗 .

content warnings - SLIGHT angst, reader has internalized homophobia and is outright homophobic to ellie, reader is in the closet, ellie is a lovergirl and she's going through the five stages of grief, modern!au, reader gets sexually assaulted/harrassed, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE!!!!

special thanks to!!!!: @sharkfemme and @dykedearest FOR HELPING ME OUT!!!!!! and also LYNN AND MAXIM!!! ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE AMAZING BETA READERS I'M KISSING YOU ALL THROUGH THE PHONE RN!!!

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it's fine, it's cool.

ellie's grip on her glass got impossibly tighter as her eyes never left your figure, your body swaying to whatever shitty mainstream pop music that was playing.

ellie williams hated secrets. she hated surprises, and she hated being in love with you.

she hated the way you would ghost her after spending a week at her apartment. she hated the way you would stop responding to her texts after you would leave. she hated the way she would let you back in when you needed her, she hated how much she loved to comfort you. she hated how gentle you were when it was just the two of you, compared to how cruel you got in public.

you can say that we ain't nothin' when you know the truth.

ellie took her hand off the glass and gripped the bar table instead, afraid that if she broke another glass she'd be banned from the bar.

you were like forbidden fruit to her, or maybe that was what she was to you.

she knew you weren't ready to come out of the closet. she understood that. so, why keep on playing this fucking game with her?

why did she even still feed into it?

i guess i'm, the fool.

the closet was made out of glass, really. you would stare at every woman's body that passed you, your eyes would scan up their short dress, she could see the curiosity and desire in your face.

but every single time after you two would hook up, there was always a new excuse.

"i'm not a fucking lesbian, ellie. i just... don't like men sometimes." sometimes?

"they're just stupid thoughts... it's not like i could ever be with a woman." but you had been. you had been with her.

"ok but... do you even count as a woman? you wear boxers, you don't even know the meaning of the term ladylike and... i don't know- look at your fuckin' hair! the closest you'd get is a transwoman." that one had hurt her. she didn't talk to you for a month after you made that comment. and then you appeared in her apartment complex hallway, sobbing hysterically.

and of course, she took you back.

like she always does.

with her arms out like an angel, through the car sun-roof.

she hated playing this fucking game with you. it was killing her.

every single time she'd see you at this bar, she imagined you dragging her onto the dancefloor. she imagined being able to walk out with your hand in her's, waking up to your groggy groans when the sun invaded the sacred space of your shared bedroom, you'd hide your face in her neck, mumbling something about, "shouldn't have drank that much last night."

every single time you pulled this shit on her, it felt like her already shattered heart broke off into impossibly tinier pieces.

"i wish you were a boy." crack.

"it's not easy for me like it is for you, els. i don't know the first thing about being proud of myself." crack.

"this hurts me more than you, baby." shattered. her heart was shattered.

it hurts you more than her?

the fucking audacity.

the nights she spent crying next to your sleeping figure.

the hours she'd spent texting you and checking her phone second after second after goddamn second.

the way she would ignore every single obligation she had to pick you up from whatever shit-hole situation you had found yourself in, immediately and happily dropping anything to make sure you were ok.

and it hurt you more than it hurt her?

you didn't know shit about hurt. about misery. about love.

i don't wanna cut it off!

her friends had told her to cut you off. her therapist said in his own professional shrink way that you would never be good for her. at least not while you weren't even good for yourself.

but she couldn't let you go. it seemed like every reason that she had to leave you, fuelled her determination to stay.

but you don't wanna call it love!

every single time you somehow broke her heart in a new way, she fell harder in love with you.

you just wanna love someone that calls you baby!-

ellie was pulled out of her internal anger when your eyes met hers. although it was only a few seconds ago, it felt like she was staring into your eyes for an eternity.

don't fuckin' wave, ellie. look away- LOOK AWAY. , she thought to herself as she was unable to look away from your beautiful irises.

you had this slight smile on your face, the dancefloor's led lights adding a shimmer to your already twinkling eyes.

it felt like her melancholy thoughts had lifted and increased all at the same time by the sight of you acknowledging her presence.

ellie went against her better judgement, her slender hand flying up to wave at you. her lips quirked upwards gently as she scanned your delighted face.

your light expression quickly turned into one of frustration, suppressing your grin with a tightening of your lips before pulling the nearest man close to you in for an unexpected kiss, opening your eyes once you knew the mystery man's were closed, locking your eyes onto ellie's before closing them once more.

the light had died in ellie's stomach after that. her happy hand that was raised in the air faltered painfully back to her side as she watched the man's hands roam down from your sides... to your waist... to your ass.

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars,

those butterflies that she had just felt in her tummy had died slowly, turning into knots of anguish.

she watched your hands cradle the man's face. those same hands that had counted each and every freckle on her face on a snowy morning that had you both stranded in her apartment.

those same hands that had a death-grip on her back as you sobbed into her shoulder every other weeknight as she tried to muffle her own cries.

those same hands that had shoved her violently as she finally tried to stand her ground one afternoon you showed up knocking on her door. "you know what... fuck you, ellie! i don't know why i keep on doing this shit with you anyways." you said, before storming off. you called her later that night. she answered. "i'm sorry, els. i'm sorry, i'll do better, i'm so sorry-" , "it's ok, baby. it's ok. i know you didn't mean it. you're ok baby, i forgive you."

shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling!

she would've stayed in that seat, stewed in her anger for a bit more before the tears inevitably came falling down if it wasn't for the way the dude's hands creeped under your skin-tight jeans and how you flinched away from his grasp, breaking the kiss immediately with a nervous giggle creeping up.

the guy obviously took it as an invitation to do more, placing his hand back on your waist and agressively pulling you closer.

you can say it's just the way you are,

ellie's head tilted as she watched this go down.

what she wanted to do was launch that creep into the nearest wall and make sure he never tainted your body again. but she didn't want to get up too soon, she wanted to be certain that you needed help, whether you wanted it or not.

your hand stopped him from coming any closer, placing it right before his chest. you said something along the lines of, "don't want to do anything." .

make a new excuse, another stupid reason-

instead of him being a decent human being and leaving you alone, his face quickly turned into one of anger. his jaw jutted out as he tried to pull you in again, leaving you thrashing against his body.

how was no one else seeing this? why was no one else doing anything?!

she didn't even have time to process what she was about to do. her feet were on the ground, marching their way towards you before she could even think about her course of action in a smart way.

"let me go, fuckin' creep!" she heard you shriek as she grew closer to you, attempting to elbow him in the chest.

ellie felt like no matter how fast she was walking, she would never make it to you in time.

he laughed tauntingly as he grinded against. "i'm the creep, bitch?! you kissed me f-"

his last word was stolen from him as ellie forcefully pushed him off you with and landed a blow against his nose.

he groaned in pain, falling to the ground as he cradled his now-broken-nose.

you gasped in shock and horror. "what the fuck, ellie?!" you scolded her. as if you would've been fine on your own.

she ignored your words though, pulling the guy's hand away as she forced another punch to his face.

now people were finally looking.

she didn't stop until she felt your hands on her stomach, pulling her away from the scene.

"she fuckin'... said... no!..." ellie's voice thundered, erratic breaths in between her words before bringing one last painful kick to his face before letting you lead her out of the bar and into the night air.

you didn't stop even after you two were at the entrance door of the establishment, you made sure the two of you were far enough away that ellie wouldn't be caught if the police were called.

she couldn't help but feel those stupid fucking butterflies again as your hand gripped hers and felt a little disappointed when you dropped it, suddenly all too aware that you were still in public.

her green eyes met your own, yours filled with anger and chaos... hers filled with love.

"hey baby." the auburnette sighed out simply, that stupid love-grin back on her face as she was finally close to you.

your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as your hands went to massage your temples. you let out a humorless giggle. "you're so... fucking stupid, ellie!" you exclaimed, shoving her chest as if she was in the wrong.

her grin turned into a confused frown as she surrendered her hands in the air, her eyebrows mirroring your own now. "wh-wh....what-"

good luck, babe!

"god, you have this severe goddamn saviour complex or some shit!... i was fine! i was fucking fine on my own before you marched in and assaulted that guy."

well good luck, babe!

you gaslighted beautifully, defending the man you knew nothing about over the woman who was fatally in love with you, she almost believed you.

ellie's frown turned into an angry smile as she brought a hand to gently wipe over the bridge of her nose, a mannerism of her's she had developed whenever she got frustrated with you.

"assau-... ok, sure-... you wanna talk about assault, baby? that fuckin' guy would've assaulted you if i didn't step in. he was assaul-"

you shut your eyes tightly the way you do when you wanted to block something out that ellie was obviously right about. you shook your head stubbornly. "gggoddd ellie- it was my fault! i wanted it and then i didn't. i shouldn't have- i shouldn't have kissed him in the first place. i gave him mixed signals, i-"

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling!-

your eyebrows grew dangerously closer to your face as you cradled your head in your hands.

ellie was quick to walk right back to you, caressing your arms.

"what? baby, no. no, it's not your fault... that- that fuckin' guy... hey... look at me, sweetheart." she cooed lovingly.

good luck, babe!

you slowly brought your hands away from your face, meeting her breathtaking green eyes.

you wanted to fall into her arms, you wanted to thank her for coming to your rescue and kiss her and confess to her how scared you truly were.

but you didn't. you never did.

your slightly calm expression that came over you once you met your secret lover's gaze turned into one of annoyance. ellie was, like always, taken by surprise as you thrashed against her grip, just like the way you did with that monster in the bar.

good luck, babe!

ellie's eyes blurred with tears as she watched your face turn into a grimace.

"fuck you, ellie." you said quietly as you broke free from her hands, storming off into the night. leaving her. like always.

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

[futbol16]

Tell Them Your Truth  • Alexia Putellas & Claudia Pina

Request: Love your writing! Could you maybe write another part to Soccer Moms? I know the Barca team has mentioned that Claudia gets sick a lot, so maybe something with Reader and Alexia having to care for her and she doesn't want to be a burden or them finding out she's not feeling well during practice but she tries to continue anyways. Also, if you want to, could you maybe add Aitana as a sister, I feel like she'd fit in well (but if you don't want to, you don't have to). Also, sorry this is so long!

Word count: 3,9k (starting to realize that I enjoy these just as much as you do:)

Claudia lifts a spare shirt to her mouth as she tries to quietly clear her throat. Her eyes are alert as she peeks over the material, looking around as subtly as possible to see if anyone had noticed her. When no one bats an eye at her actions, she lowers the shirt from her mouth and with the same movement she shoves it back into her backpack.

She leans back in her cubby as she listens to the girls goof around before practice, but for once she doesn’t join them. Far too out of it to even think about such things.

This has been going on for a couple of days now, her state only worsening to the point that she now felt tired even before starting warm ups. 

“You coming, Pina?” her head shoots up at the sound of her name and she shoots Patri a questioning look. It’s only when she receives an equally confused look does she glance around the changing room, now noticing that most of the girls have headed out to the pitch.

“Uh yeah yeah” she nods, slowly coming to her senses. Patri eyes her with curiosity but the short girl dismisses her concern with a wave of her hand, opting to just follow behind her friend. 

Claudia clears her throat again as her and Patri walk out. The sun seems too bright as it hits her right in the eye and she almost groans aloud, wanting nothing more than to go back home and curl up under her blanket.

Patri turns at the noise but finds Pina looking down at her boots and she shrugs at her friend’s behavior. Maybe she just wasn’t having the best of days. 

With that thought Patri throws an arm around Claudia’s shoulders who’s taken aback by the sudden movement and she suddenly feels dizzy, not that she’d tell anyone. 

“Partners like usual?” she merely nods at the question, too busy with trying to come back to life. 

Even though her legs feel like bricks and she’s craving something hot to soothe her sore throat, the forward forces herself to act like she’s having the best time at practice. 

She almost lets a tear slip in relief when the end of training is called. She lets herself sit on the grass and breathe a heavy breath through her congested nose. The brunette lifts her gaze back onto her teammates, but when she notices you looking her way she instantly turns her attention elsewhere. 

Just as you start to walk towards her the girl quickly jumps up to her feet and clings onto Aitana’s arm who had been walking by. A muddled expression flashes across your face but you turn back to Alexia as she gives your hand a squeeze. 

Aitana however, looks at Claudia in a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

“Are you okay?” she timidly asks, not sure why her friend has been so quick to stick to her side. Claudia rapidly nods her head at the question, guiding Aitana towards the locker room. The midfielder takes notice of the slight redness of her eyes but decides against commenting on it. The two continue their way towards their stuff as they exchange a few words but Aitana quickly gets the impression that her friend is a bit too tired to continue any means of communication. 

By the time you and Alexia enter the changing room, having had to stay back for some coach-to-captains talk with Jonatan, most of your teammates have already left.

Only a few have hung back to bid their goodbyes and as you hug Mapi one last time, you notice another person still sitting by their locker. You motion to her when your girlfriend’s eyes connect with yours and Alexia approaches her. 

“Pinita?” she calls her name out softly as she crouches in front of the girl and Claudia hums at her in question, resting her head against the wood. 

“Is everything okay bebé?” the question makes her sit up straighter as if she just realized something and Claudia rubs her eyes as she slings the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

“Sí, all good. I just didn’t sleep well last night so I’m a little tired.” she makes up the excuse on the spot and before either of you can open your mouths to interject, she presses a quick kiss to both of yours and Alexia’s cheek and she bolts out the door.

The two of you stare at the now closed door, wondering what had gotten into the young forward. Slowly turning to the brunette by your side you raise your eyebrows.

“That wasn’t weird at all.” your comment earns you a soft chuckle from Alexia.

“She’s just tired.” she wraps an arm around your waist as she pulls you into her body. “Speaking of tired, you wanna go home and cuddle up on the couch with Nala?” her voice is sweet and there’s a twinkle in her eyes as she gazes into yours that makes it impossible for you to not pull her down for a kiss. 

“Sí mi amor, siempre.” 

Meanwhile you and Alexia gather the last of your things in the changing room, Aitana is just about to get in her car when she hears someone sneeze. She stops halfway through opening the car door and she glances around her with her eyebrows furrowed. She had thought she was the only one here. Her eyes zero in on the ponytail sticking out above a car near her and she sneaks closer.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick again!” her voice startles Pina who lets out a loud shriek in return before she’s cut off by another sneeze. She taps at her pockets in search of something but Aitana hands her a tissue without a word. 

“Thanks.” the forward sniffles and then blows her nose out, cutting off Aitana who was about to speak again. Aitana watches on as her friend fills the tissue, a repelled look on her face. 

“Yeah, get it all out I suppose” she mutters, stuffing another tissue into Claudia’s pocket as she finally finishes.

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“Are you sick again?” Her silence speaks volumes and the ‘are you kidding me’ look on Aitana’s face isn’t helping her feel better. 

“I swear it’s not my fault-”

“Claudia you were sick like two weeks ago too!” she throws her arms up in frustration, frustration which roots from her worry for the brunette.

“Okay but…” Aitana raises an eyebrow, waiting for whatever excuse the young player had for now. 

“Nevermind, I don’t have anything.” Claudia shrugs nonchalantly before sniffing again. With the mother-like pose that Aitana is supporting with her hands on her hips and a disapproving look in her eyes, Pina knows what’s coming next. This time Aitana is cut off by her voice rather than her blowing her nose out.

“Please please don’t tell mi mamás, I don’t want to miss training and I don’t want to annoy them with this again. Pleasee!” her please catch Aitana off guard whose expression softens when Claudia reveals how she feels.

“You think you’d annoy Y/N/N and Ale?” her disbelieving tone makes Claudia huff out a breath through her nose.

“I don’t want to worry them. They smothered me with care last time and constantly came over to bring me soup and tuck me into bed and check my fever and-” she lets out a sigh. “You get it”

“So why not just tell them you don’t want that?” Aitana is utterly confused as to why the forward thought this was such a complicated situation.

“But I do want it!” Claudia all but whines, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. Clearly her sickness had gotten her in a mood.

“Okay, I don’t get it” 

“If they know about this then they’ll worry about me-”

“Is that not a good thing?” Pina gives Aitana a look for being cut off.

“No, because it means they will spend their time worrying about me instead of being at training and getting ready for our next game. I don’t want them to pause their lives to take care of me” she finally admits and this time Aitana pulls her into a comforting hug, now understanding why this was such a difficult and overwhelming situation for Claudia.

“Wait actually, you’ll get me sick too” she pulls away from her and Aitana smiles when Claudia snorts at her antics. 

“But I understand now and I won’t tell them, even though they’re our captains and you probably should” she gives Pina one last look, waiting for her to change her mind but the brunette doesn’t budge. “Well, if that’s what you really want” she shrugs as she gives in to Claudia who thanks her profusely.

“Butttt, get some sleep today and take some coughing meds” 

“Sí claro. Gracias Tana!” Pina shouts after her friend who waves her off as she finally gets in her car.

The next day at training begins similarly for the young forward and she tiredly trudges into the locker room before letting her bag fall onto the bench with a loud thump. This time, many of the girls eye her with curiosity but Pina pays them no mind, the throbbing in her head far too painful to care. 

She’s just about finished getting ready and is tying her boots when someone sits next to her and leans down to her level with their hand situated on her back.

“If you don’t want the whole team to know before you could tell Ale and Y/N/N, then stop sniffling and blow your nose out.” Aitana whispers to her and she pushes a tissue into her hand.

Claudia glances up alarmed but when she notices that the two of you aren’t here yet, she calms herself down and excuses herself to the bathroom to blow her nose out. That way no one would hear just how congested she is and no one would tell on her.

When she re-enters the room she finds that the team’s captains have finally arrived, or more so just made their presences known because you’re both already dressed in your training kits and comfortably talking to Mapi and Ingrid. 

Claudia watches the two of you from her seat across you and her eyes wander over your form before she spots your hand on Alexia’s thigh. She watches as you rub soothing circles into the skin of your girlfriend’s thigh and how in return, the midfielder scoots closer to you and leans her head on your shoulder. 

She lets out a quiet sigh without knowing, wishing that she would also be receiving such comforting embraces, especially now that she feels under the weather.

For a second she genuinely considers walking over and plopping herself in between you and Alexia, but then she remembers that she’s trying to keep a secret from you. 

Alexia feels the young girl staring and she squeezes the hand that’s on her thigh to gain your attention.

“Pinita is staring at us” she whispers to you so as to not alert anyone else. “And I’m not sure if I’m seeing right, but are her eyes red to you too?” upon hearing her concerned voice you instantly turn towards the young brunette and your eyes scan over her clearly tired expression. Pina’s eyes connect with yours and she lowers her head to turn back to tying her boots, only to find that they’re already tied.

“Maybe she had another bad night?” it’s a valid suggestion from your part since it is the excuse Claudia had made yesterday. Even though Alexia can hear the uncertainty in your voice and she’s just as unsure, she nods at your words. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Minutes later when the team finally start their way towards the pitch, Claudia is quick to run after Aitana and Patri before Alexia can greet her with a hug. 

The bewilderment in her eyes as she joins you again, makes you knit your brows together.

“Is it just me or is she avoiding us?” Alexia voices her thoughts as she turns to you, a sad smile resting on her face. 

“Thought I was imagining things.” you confirm with the same expression and you press a small kiss to her cheek hoping to calm her racing thoughts. 

With the way Claudia has been behaving, Alexia keeps a close eye on the brunette the whole time during warm ups, so much so that you have to nudge her out of her staring contest with the back of Pina’s head. 

The team is almost halfway through practice, doing running drills when you hear a small sneeze behind you. Beyond being confused at the sound you abruptly turn around only to find Patri, Aitana, and Pina all staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who was that?”

“Who was what?” Patri tries to outsmart you, having picked up on Pina’s state.

“The sneeze. Who sneezed?” you narrow your eyes at one of them in particular and Claudia lowers her slightly bloodshot eyes. She stays silent knowing that if she were to open her mouth you would hear her nasally voice.

“Me! Me, it was me.” Aitana’s words are accompanied by nods and she wipes at her nose for good measure, utilizing all of her acting skills in front of you. 

You're not very convinced but you ignore your worry for the moment, choosing to instead focus on the drill when it is your turn. You don’t hear the breath of relief behind you, or Pina thanking Aitana for covering for her and you certainly don’t see the knowing look Patri gives her best friend. 

Pina steers clear of you after that, and Alexia, and basically everyone in order to keep up her act.

When Jonatan calls for a scrimmage she knows practice is almost over and she relaxes a bit at the thought of not having to pretend for much longer.

She ends up on your team and while normally she would be hanging off your neck in happiness, she only trudges over to your side in silence. 

Alexia watches from the other side of the pitch and by now she is beyond concerned for Claudia. 

The scrimmage is going well with your team two goals ahead of Alexia’s, you make sure to rub it in her face, only playfully of course. And truly all is good when Pina sends another cross your way and you control the ball as you try to outsmart Cata. 

Claudia’s feet come to a stop as she rapidly breathes in only to then hunch over and break out in a coughing fit. Her eyes prick with tears as her sore throat is abused by the loud coughs that rake through her body and she is barely able to get in a breath before she’s coughing again. 

Aitana’s eyes are instantly on the forward and she quickly walks over to stand in front of her friend, still trying to cover for her.

The noise however catches everyone’s attention, except yours because you’re too busy scoring a goal and hearing your own heavy breathing to hear Pina way behind you.

Alexia’s mom mode is immediately activated and she runs over to Claudia without a second thought. She places a comforting hand on her back and pats her gently to help clear Pina’s throat. When Pina is finished, she inhales a sharp deep breath and straightens up, coming face to face with her captain.

“Sit down Claudia” Alexia orders firmly, but the worry shines through her voice. Pina follows her instructions though and when a bottle is pushed into her hands she eagerly chugs it down.

By now you have also turned around and when you see half the team standing near something, you furrow your brows. Deciding it’s best to see what was up you abandon celebrating your goal and instead run back to where you can see Alexia towering over the others. 

“What happened?” you ask breathlessly, eyes searching your girlfriend’s for answers. She gestures to Claudia on the ground and you drop down to your knees next to the girl. 

Your eyes rake over her form, searching for any injuries but when you don’t find any you glance back up at Alexia.

“She’s sick and has a coughing fit. And by the sounds of it she didn’t get sick last night.” Alexia places a gentle hand on Pina’s head and she carefully sweeps the baby hairs out of the girl’s eyes.

Your expression morphs into worry, confusion, and then a slightly hurt look as you turn to Claudia.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” you don’t receive a verbal answer, only a guilty look and you sigh, instead raising the bottle back to her mouth and urging her to drink more. With one last look at the girl you stand back up, giving Alexia’s shoulder a squeeze and then you stand by to explain the situation to Jonatan. 

He agrees to call the end of practice a few minutes early and tells the rest of the girls to stretch and cool down, allowing the three of you to head inside to check out Pina. 

You remain silent on the walk to the changing room and Pina glances up at you every now and then but she stays firmly tucked into Alexia’s side, allowing herself to soak up the affection she’s been missing out on. 

“Go ahead and get changed, I’ll get the stuff from the medics.” you inform Alexia and she nods at you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before letting you go. She guides the young forward into the changing room and sits her down in her cubby, draping one of your hoodies over the brunette. 

“Pinita” Alexia sits next to her with a small sigh, pulling her to lean into her. 

“When did all of this happen? You were sick just the other week” 

“I know, I know. I left the air conditioning running after I got home from training and…I guess sitting under it while still hot and sweaty- it wasn’t the best idea.” she admits regretfully and her captain chuckles along.

“Well, at least you know now.” just as Claudia thinks she’s off the hook Alexia continues.

 “But it wasn’t smart of you to continue training while you were clearly sick. This could’ve ended way worse Pina, you could’ve caused yourself serious stuff” she seemingly can’t find the right words, her mind once again consumed with fret.

The forward nods into her shoulder, wearing a guilty expression. Alexia lifts a hand to her forehead and Claudia jerks back at the coldness of it.

“You even have a fever, Pina!” she shrinks back at the tone of her voice.

“Why didn’t you tell us, or someone?” the midfielder questions further.

“I told Aitana, well technically she found out. But I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Pinita bebé, we’re always going to worry about you, no matter what.” Alexia tells her softly, rubbing the girl's shoulder.

“Sí, but I knew you would abandon everything else to take care of me. You would’ve missed training then and then maybe even a game.” she explains her reasoning and Alexia sighs.

“I would’ve rather missed a game than have you rip your lungs open in a coughing fit.” your voice rings out and it startles Claudia who hasn’t been paying attention to the door.

Your hands are full with what she could only assume were coughing syrups and other tablets and medicine for her. Suddenly she feels even worse for lying - or well keeping this from the two of you. 

“It wasn’t that serious-” she stops talking as you dump everything next to her and you move to take her temperature.

“It could’ve been.” you ignore the look you receive from your girlfriend but you do get the hint and with a deep breath in, you allow your softness to take over you.

“Querida, this isn’t something to joke about. You should’ve told Ale and I about how you were feeling, amor. We could’ve stopped it from getting worse.” you stroke her cheek as you look at the number on the machine, shaking your head when you see just how high her temperature is. Claudia melts into your touch and sinks even further into your girlfriend’s hold. 

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” she mumbles out as her eyes gloss over. Your movements halt at the hearing of her statement and you glance up at Alexia almost as if waiting for confirmation that you’ve really heard what you heard.

The midfielder tightens her hold on Pina.

“You’re far from being a burden Pinita, so far from it.” she mutters into Claudia’s hair. You crouch down in front of her and take her hands into your own, your thumbs running over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

“Worrying about you, taking care of you isn’t a chore, mi vida. We do it because we love you. Don’t ever think of it differently.” you tell her sincerely, your voice soft and comforting. Claudia nods at the two of you and she lets a tear fall before she physically lets herself fall into your arms, pulling Alexia with her.

The three of you stay in a tight embrace kneeling slightly uncomfortably on the floor of the locker room, but you and Alexia wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant Claudia felt safe.

“Thank you” she whispers as her grip on your shirts loosen. Alexia smiles at her and kisses her head in a motherly manner while you slightly pull back from the two.

“Okay, enough of this now, I can’t go another second knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.” the laughs you receive instantly lightens the atmosphere and you offer a hand to each of your girls and pull them up to their feet.

“Drink some of this and then we can go home and cuddle up” you push the coughing syrup into Pina’s hand who pulls a face at it but quickly nods at your words, her mind already wandering to what movie the three of you could watch.

“I’ll make soup for you, bebé.” Alexia states and you smile at your girlfriend's enthusiasm to take care of your sick teammate.

Your arms wrap themselves around her as Claudia gathers her things and you press a lingering kiss to the underside of her jaw. Alexia’s eyes shine with adoration as she gazes down at you and just as she’s about to kiss you, you’re interrupted by Pina clearing her throat.

She gives the two of you a sheepish look.

“Can Aitana join us?” she fiddles with the strap of her backpack and your heart melts at her cuteness.

“Sure, go get her.” Alexia smiles at Pina without moving from your embrace and you watch as the forward skips out of the changing room. 

Later that evening, the three of you are all mushed together on the couch of the living room, Aitana and Patri squished onto the sofa chair as they share a bowl of popcorn, eyes intently watching the movie playing in front of you all.

As Claudia glances around, she relishes in the comfort and warmth that she feels, her throat feels a lot better thanks to the amount of syrup you had forced her to take, plus Alexia’s soup. Just before her eyes slip closed, she thinks that perhaps next time it wouldn’t be a bad idea to tell the two of you about her being sick, especially if it resulted in such movie nights. 

[hedgehog-moss]

Loved your mentioning of learning poetry by heart: this is something I haven’t done since school! What are some of your favs that you’d suggest to ease my brain back into it?

(Française ici donc les options 🇫🇷 autant que anglais sont welcome :) merci!)

Hi :) You can look at the poem tag of my quote blog if you want—some of the ones I've learnt by heart (or excerpts from them) include this one by Sara Teasdale - Nanao Sakaki - Velimir Khlebnikov - Wallace Stevens - Rabindranath Tagore - Archibald Macleish - Howard Nemerov - and these paragraphs by Henri Peña-Ruiz which I consider prose poetry... My favourite French verses (from Corneille, Aragon, Anna de Noailles, Hugo, Valéry...) are all alexandrines and I find it to be the easiest type of verse to remember, as the structure is so rigorous and consistent. I sometimes translate English poems into alexandrines (like this one) to make them easier to learn in this more familiar form—I think even after all this time English prosody still feels foreign to me; the patterns of sound and rhythm in French are more deeply embedded in my brain so it can more easily predict what comes next...

Re: easing your brain into it, I guess that depends on your style of learning? For me the best way to learn a text is to spend time with it in written form, be it by translating it, or by writing it down by hand (slowly) and then (sometimes) keeping it for a while in a place where I often stand idle, like taped to my microwave so I re-read it as I wait 1 minute for something to heat up.

One thing I like about learning poems is that it's a costless, always-accessible way to get a sense of personal accomplishment. Beyond that, I've got three categories of poems I like to learn for different reasons—I'll go into some detail in case it can help you figure out what you're after :)

1. Classic poetry, because it's just fun to have little snippets of ancient tragedies or epic Victor Hugo poems living at the back of your mind and accompanying you through your own everyday tragedies—as an overdramatic person who tends to feel devastated or exasperated over tiny stuff, it helps me to take some distance from my feelings. Like if I spill a bucket of manure on my boots and my first reaction is rage and despair and my second thought is a couple of verses by Euripides where Iphigenia bemoans her relentless fate, it's a way to make fun of (and get over) myself.

My grandmother did this a lot, she knew so many poems by heart and often used them ironically. If I went whining to her when I was little she'd recite to me the last few verses of Alfred de Vigny's La Mort du Loup (it sounds better in the original but):

[...] With all your being you must strive To that highest degree of stoic pride [...] Weeping or praying—all this is in vain. You must instead shoulder your long and heavy task In the way that Destiny has seen fit to ask Then suffer and die without complaint.

(Let me tell you, that's just what a five-year-old wants to hear after scratching her knee at the park) But really I admired this treasury of poetry she carried within her, especially as she only went to school until age 14 and came upon most of it thanks to her own curiosity; as well as the way she used it playfully in everyday life, using dramatic classical verse to de-dramatise minor annoyances.

2. Nature poems are great in the opposite way, to magnify minor positive things :) Like seeing a fox and having a few lines by Mary Oliver come to mind, seeing a frog and thinking of that Basho haiku... I recently discovered Jean-Michel Maulpoix and I also love his nature poems, like 'The recovery of blue after a downpour', the way he describes snow melting in the spring, or golden-blue evenings:

[Snow] takes some time to leave, but delicately. She doesn’t insist, hardly persists, never roots… She gives way. No one else dies so merrily With such good humour Unmatched is her disdain for eternity…

L’azur, certains soirs, a des soins de vieil or. Le paysage est une icône. Il semble qu’au soleil couchant, le ciel qui se craquelle se reprenne un instant à croire à son bleu.

3. And then there are the poems that proudly serve no purpose. <3 I mean beyond distilling language in a beautiful way. No deep meaning—or no meaning at all, e.g. surrealist poetry. I learnt this passage from Les Champs magnétiques back in middle school:

La fenêtre creusée dans notre chair s'ouvre sur notre cœur. On y voit un immense lac où viennent se poser à midi des libellules mordorées et odorantes comme des pivoines. Quel est ce grand arbre où les animaux vont se regarder ? Il y a des siècles que nous lui versons à boire. . . Prisonniers des gouttes d'eau, nous ne sommes que des animaux perpétuels. . . Nous ne savons plus rien des astres morts ; nous regardons les visages. . . Quelquefois, le vent nous entoure de ses grandes mains froides et nous attache aux arbres découpés par le soleil.

—and I've often recited it to myself just to enjoy these gratuitously nice sentences that aren't here to deliver information. Like Kay Ryan said, "Poetry makes nothing happen. That's the relief of it." It's a nice break, a way to remember that communicating isn't all language is for; beyond the social dimension there's also an intimate one that relies on our own aesthetic sensitivity. Most of the time we look through language, to access ideas, meanwhile enjoying poetry means looking at language, for a change, appreciating it for itself.

I just realised I'm paraphrasing John Brehm here—in The Poetry of Impermanence he wrote something that can be read as an ode to learning things by heart:

When you read lines that seem especially lit up—that move or intrigue you in some way, or that are simply pleasing or even dazzling—don’t focus on being able to formulate a statement about what they might mean, as if you might be called upon to explain the poem, to yourself or to someone else. Just linger with those poems or passages that resonate with you. . . Rest your mind on them; let them live inside you.

[infamous-if]

out of pure scientific curiosity, how would the ROs have handled the situation if they came across those guys in ch2 harassing mc? 👀

I haven't done a scenario ask in ages but I quite liked this one so here goes!

Orion: is a boxer and we see a bit of that heat in him in chapter 2. Also he’s very visibly strong, so people are naturally intimidated by him at first glance. Orion does take the polite approach as much as he could, so he’d ask them nicely to back off. If that doesn’t work, he’d warn them he’d have to turn violent. Isn’t he so polite? telling them how he’s about to hit them beforehand?

Orion has scrapped before. He has a good swing on him.

Sebastian: would try to be a peacemaker, tell everyone to calm down and if that doesn't help he'd prob take MC and leave lmao Seb doesn't like to fight.

August: I think August just being eternally nonchalant would scare them away, but also they're kind of scary when they get upset. They'd most likely tell them to leave, or somehow convince them to back off without raising their voice.

Victoria: Victoria would prob curse them out and use pepper spray if they get too close. She'd definitely want to fight and it'd be MC who is like...I don't think that's a good idea...she has a whole purse full of things for self defense lmao

Seven: Would definitely try to fight. Seven thinks they can take on two grown men at once even if the odds are against them, they'd definitely provoke it to the point where MC has to pull them away.

G: Probably annoy them enough to scare them away with their charming personality. Or G would insult them without directly insulting them and then would pull MC away to leave. G would be a bit braver with one guy but two guys...they'd rather just cut their losses lmao

[lost-girl-2021]

Adopted Spider Headcanons (Metkayina Edition)

I've been reading fics where Spider's adopted by Ronal and Tonowari the past couple days and now I'm obsessed. The problem is that I mostly write angst and I really wanna read hurt/comfort, lol.

I feel like the typical/common way that I see Spider get taken in is basically him doing his little beach bum shit after everything and slowly getting adopted into their family. And I eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

Spider: *Building a campfire, roasting his own food* Ronal/Tonowari/Tsireya or Anoung: *Why is the Sully's adoptive son alone on the beach?* *Oh well, mine now*

I feel like Ronal would definitely be way at first, she's made it no secret that she strongly dislikes Sky People. But, I'd imagine that eventually, she comes to see him not just as a human, but as a child. And a child who is alone and in need of help.

Aounung would probably be the same. I have this idea of him giving Spider a hard time (after all the carnage/damage/dead people have been handled). Like, trying to mess with him as much as possible, just being an asshole. And then, maybe Spider goes under for a long time while Aounung is on the beach weaving or something. And, even though Spider has a mask and can breath underwater as well as he does above it, Aounung somehow forgot that and freaks, thinking the human has drowned.

Aounung tossed his half-repaired net aside, diving into the water. He whipped around, eyes catching on the mess of dirty blond. Pushing further, he grabbed the boy by the armpits, shooting to the surface and pulling the human onto land. He flipped him over, meeting confused eyes as he placed a hand on his chest. He was breathing fine, not even panting from being under for so—

Spider's mask glinted in the sun. Aounung was an idiot.

"Are you . . . okay?" The smaller boy asked hesitantly, making no move to sit up.

"You were under for a long time." He mumbled, pulling away.

Spider's face split into a grin. "Did you— did you think I was— "

"Quiet." He hissed, standing up. "We will never speak of this again."

Spider's laughter followed him as he stormed away.

I feel like with Tsireya, she would've immediately been all over him. Like, this is Spider, Lo'ak's supposed best friend. The human boy who acted just like he was Na'vi. It probably started mostly as curiosity, but I think that after seeing how the Sully's interacted with Spider, she'd be confused about his place, his family. If Spider didn't sleep in the Sully's marui, didn't eat with them— then where did he do those things?

Tsireya glided along the water, Lo'ak a few feet from her. "Why doesn't Spider stay in your marui?"

Lo'ak raised a brow. "Uh . . . I don't know. He lives with the humans, I guess. Always has."

"But . . . the humans left after helping Kiri. They have not returned."

"They . . . they haven't?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure Dad has it handled. There's probably a new shack or something for him."

Consider Spider's mask running low and there isn't a spare anywhere. As a kid, he never was gone from the shack long enough for his battery to run low and during his time with the recoms, there were always spares in someone's pack when he needed it. Idk how long the masks last, but for my own sake, I'm going to say Spider got a new one the day of the battle and it lasted him about a week. Or maybe, he managed to pillage one as the ship went down so he's on his second and it's like two weeks or so.

I think that when he saw the little red light flashing, a small beep-beep sounding, that he'd probably be like a kid who forgot there was a test. He'd just panic. But, I imagine he'd also be scared to bother the Sully's by telling them, so he'd spend the next hour searching the village (discreetly) to see if there were any pilfered batteries or masks left behind when the humans visited. Let's say he has two hours from when the mask starts flashing to change it out. And where, oh where, does he wind up when he's got a half-hour left?

Spider was not panicking. Because, when a human panicked, they breathed faster and wasted more air. Norm told him that, so it had to be true. But, he'd checked everywhere he could think of and . . . nothing. There was no shack, no Norm or Max to run to before his timer ran out. No humans. Only him. And in a matter of . . . fuck, twenty minutes, he was going to die just like a human.

He sat slumped on the beach, looking out into the water and trying his best not to openly sob. He didn't want to die crying like a little baby. It was not working out well for him. At least, he'd have a good view when he died.

"Child? What is wrong?"

Spider flinched, looking up with wide eyes at the clan leader. He'd only talked to Tonowari once, when Jake had introduced him. Of course, given his spectacular luck, the man would find him when he was on death's doorstep.

With a sniffle, he held up his beeping pack. "It's almost out. Twenty minutes."

The man frowned down, grasping the device carefully. "And that is why you're so upset? Because, you don't wish to go into the village for a new one? Did something happen? Someone make you feel unwelcome?"

"There is no new mask." There was also no home to go back to. "That was my only one."

With a cut-off gasp, he pulled Spider to his feet. He marched the boy through the village and into what he recognized as the healer's marui. The Tsahik was mixing something, but she stood as soon as they entered.

"Tonowari?" She asked, stepping closer. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

"His mask, where's the spare?"

Wordlessly, the woman pulled a mask from one of the many baskets, easily connecting the tubing and turning it on. Like, she'd done it before. Spider had no time to ask why she had such a thing before she was right in front of him.

"Take a deep breath." She ordered, unlatching the straps of his mask before pulling it off. Just as quickly, the new one was secured. Spider hadn't even moved.

I think that even before deciding to adopt Spider, Tonowari and Ronal would probably make sure he had spare masks and check what food he could/couldn't eat. Like, as soon as they realize the Sully's aren't caring for him, they'd probably subconsciously take responsibility for him. Because, he was just a kid, really. And kids were clumsy and careless and needed help, needed parents. Anoung and Tsireya, despite being independent and skilled, still needed their parents sometimes. Let their mother do their hair and insisted on their father de-gutting their catches. And Spider— Spider is fragile. He's skilled and smart and quick on his feet, but he's a human surrounded by Na'vi. Not to mention, one wrong move and he's left with a cracked mask. And what if he eats the wrong food, mistakes one fruit for another and ends up poisoned?

This ended up way longer that I thought it would be, lol. But, I really love these types of fics and if anyone has any recs or wants to hear more, my comment section is open. XD