#i'm just thinking about adjusting to living somewhere else

[the-winds-of-destiny-xxx]

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[loaksky]

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

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neng © 2023

[sourpeachsayshi]

You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??

I'm listening 🎤

⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3

midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.

he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.

your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.

"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.

"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.

choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.

"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.

"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.

you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.

"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.

a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"

"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."

another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.

silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.

he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.

choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"

"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."

his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.

he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"

"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."

"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.

your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.

"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.

the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.

his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.

"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.

your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.

you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.

you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"

his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.

"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"

you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.

your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.

he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.

"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.

your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.

before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.

the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.

you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.

"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.

your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".

before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.

"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."

you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.

your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.

choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.

"turn around"

"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.

"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.

he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.

"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.

you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.

"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."

you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.

choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.

your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.

the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.

choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.

"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.

"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.

"we...we went a bit too far..."

"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."

you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.

"and we haven't done that...yet."

[wheeboo]

eyes don't lie | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which you and wonwoo have a late night conversation. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, lil angst if you think about it, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. conversations abt death, just 2 'besties' having deep talks :') WORD COUNT. 1.5k

notes: idk rlly know what this is and idk where i was going with it but i hope you enjoy lmao

"Do you think that when we die, we see black forever?"

You hear Wonwoo's phone shut off immediately at your question, and the silence that follows right after is almost suffocating, like you're holding your breath. You feel the bed dip right next to you𑁋probably from Wonwoo adjusting himself𑁋and then you feel the momentary contact of his arm against yours. He feels warm, like he always does.

Your brain is doing its runs, Wonwoo presumes, eyes gazing around your dimly-lit room before landing on you sprawled on the bed next to him, legs straight and eyes piercing up at the ceiling above. The only sounds he can hear is your synchronized breathing, the ticking of your clock on the wall, and the distant blare of car horns from the city outside.

You steal a glance at him, his silhouette barely visible in the moonlight filtering through the window. His forehead is creased, eyes shadowed in thought, nose crinkling for a brief second to rid of an itch. He's thinking about the question, and you swear you can visibly see the gears and cogs turning in his mind.

"Maybe," he finally says, voice barely a whisper. "Or maybe it's like that dreamless sleep we have at times. Nothingness, but not in a bad way. Just... a pause, I guess."

"A pause?" You lift a brow. "But wouldn't that be like... ceasing to exist?"

Wonwoo just shrugs, the movement barely discernible in the darkness. He shifts his body slightly, and maybe there's just a bit more space between you two because a sudden chill seems to course through you.

"Not exactly," he murmurs. "Think of it like a comma. It's not a full stop; it's a moment of quiet before the next chapter starts."

"The next chapter?"

He hesitates, then speaks cautiously, "It's... you know, like another life. We shed this skin, and become something else, somewhere else."

A hum leaves your lips, then a wave of silence washes over the room. It stretches for what feels like an eternity, and Wonwoo can't tell if you're lost in thought or waiting for him to elaborate. The moonlight pouring in from your bedroom window dances on the edges of the room, casting shadows that flicker like the thoughts swirling around you two.

"But... but don't get me wrong," Wonwoo adds, breaking the silence before it grows even longer. "It's not something to be scared of, I think. It's like... coming home. Finally understanding the story you've been living without even knowing the plot."

A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, soft as the rustle of leaves in a night breeze. It's a sound laced with both amusement and wonder, and it catches Wonwoo off-guard, sending a shiver down his spine, and maybe his heart to race a little faster too.

"What?" he asks, voice coming out a bit hoarse and deep.

"Just..." Your voice trails off, tracing patterns on your bedsheets below your fingers. "The way you put it. Coming home. It's comforting... somehow."

"Comforting?" he repeats, surprised. "Death usually doesn't get that label."

You snort, letting your body fully face him now. "I know. I just... I guess I'm a little scared. So I like to think that it's, um, different for everyone, you know? Like maybe... it's your favourite dream, or the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen, or a room with everyone you've ever loved. Or maybe..." You pause, unable to voice the thought twisting your gut. "...it's just nothing. Just darkness."

You watch as Wonwoo turns his body to face you fully, a soft, understanding smile playing on his lips. Your eyes drop down to his mouth for a second, a breath catching in your throat, before meeting his gaze. You've always admired how his eyes look, but there's something about it right now𑁋the way the lights catches them, like flecks of stardust scattered across the night sky𑁋that makes you feel so small.

Yet you also hate how it's so beautiful, like something you think you can look at forever, even though 'forever' is simply just a concept, isn't it?

So you really wish he can he can just freakin' close them𑁋

"Please don't look at me like that," You mutter aloud as you break the eye contact, feeling a sudden vulnerability run through you.

Wonwoo blinks, puzzled. "Huh? I'm just looking𑁋"

"You look at me like... like every𑁋actually, just forget about it." You suddenly sit up in bed, taking in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. "Forget everything I just said."

Your abrupt shift hangs heavy in the air, the unspoken words louder than any you'd spoken. Wonwoo's brows furrow as he sits himself up on your bed as well, a frown now etching across his features, his hand hovering in mid-air as if reaching out to you but unsure where to land.

"I... Did I say something wrong?" he asks, quietly and cautiously. Seriously, why does he have to exist? He's just looking at you, he's right, but the way he does it feels like he's seeing right through you, straight to the raw, exposed core of your fears and feelings. "I'm sorry if I did."

You shake your head. "No, you didn't. I-I'm sorry. I ruined the moment."

The air around you is thick with something unspoken, a lingering tension that hints at a conversation left unfinished. You can practically feel Wonwoo's gaze burning into the back of your neck, even though you can't bring yourself to look back at him. Your fingers play absentmindedly with the edge of your bedsheets, lips pursing together into a tight, straight line. You don't know where to go from here.

And then, Wonwoo takes a leap of faith. "Can you... tell me how I look at you?"

You feel yourself hesitate, the question catching you slightly off-guard, an unexpected flip of the script that leaves you momentarily speechless. It was like he'd plucked the very thought you wished he wouldn't voice: the one that made your throat constrict and your stomach flip. When you turn back to him, he's already looking at you, and you feel that vulnerable feeling again.

"It's like... I-I don't know. You just..." You begin, searching for the right words to say. "You look at me like you're telling me that everything's okay."

There's a dance of emotions that flicker on his face at your words, like he's trying to process everything and nothing at once.

"Oh," is all he mutters out, the single word hanging heavy in the air between you.

"Yeah, and I really hate you for that," You say heartedly, attempting to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo giggles nervously. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"For... um, looking at you like𑁋"

"No, I'm sorry for falling for you," You confess, a half-smile playing on your lips. "I tried not to, but... I did."

For a moment, the only sound is the rhythmic click of the clock on your wall. You watch him closely, heart hammering against your ribs, waiting for some reaction, any reaction. You almost wish you could take it back, swallow it whole and pretend it never happened.

"And I guess that's why I'm scared," You continue on, knowing there's no going back now. "scared to lose this, to lose you, that something as inevitable as... you know, death, will take it all away."

"You're not going to lose me," Wonwoo reassures. "I'm right here."

A small, appreciative smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You say that like you can control everything."

"I know I can't," he admits with a gentle chuckle. "but I can promise to be here for as long as possible."

A heartbeat passes, then another. Wonwoo swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry from your locked gazes. There's that look in his eyes again, the one that sends butterflies to your stomach and makes your heart flutter so clumsily. You feel the heat crawling up your cheeks, because dammit you really could push him off the bed right now.

You let out a cough, face feeling hot. "Anyway, can you reject me so I can move on?"

A playful grin stretches across his face. It starts small, perhaps a hesitant curve at the corner of his lips, but it blossoms quickly like a sunrise chasing away the night.

"Reject you?" he questions in disbelief, peering at you as if you were crazy. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Well," You start. "because it's the only way for me to get over you, obviously. Oh, and so I can stop tripping over my own feet every time you're around and move on."

Wonwoo throws his head back and laughs, the sounds coming deep within his chest. You would never get tired of his laugh. "And who said I wanted to reject you?"

It's your turn for the smile to your face to fade just slightly, mouth agape as if you're about to say something, but nothing comes out.

Wonwoo scoffs. "I like you too, you know. I was just waiting for you to figure it out."

Now it's your turn to blink in disbelief.

"You... like me?"

He just shrugs, but the curve to his lips remains.

"Maybe that's why I look at you the way I do," he tells you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours on the bed. "because you make everything feel okay."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9

[inkspiredwriting]

A Date to Remember

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. His siblings had given him endless grief about his nerves, but he wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight was his first official date with Y/N, and despite all the apocalyptic scenarios he had faced, this felt like one of his biggest challenges yet.

"Are you sure you don't want some advice?" Klaus called from the living room, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Five rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Klaus. Just... try not to burn the house down while I'm gone."

Klaus laughed, giving him a thumbs-up as Five left the house, determination in every step.

Five had planned everything meticulously. Dinner at an upscale restaurant, followed by a moonlit walk in the park. But the universe, it seemed, had other plans.

As Five and Y/N arrived at the restaurant, the hostess informed them that their reservation had been lost. No amount of Five's usual intimidating glares could change the fact that the restaurant was fully booked.

"I'm so sorry, Five," Y/N said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Maybe we can find somewhere else?"

Five sighed, his frustration palpable, but he forced a smile. "It's okay. Let's try that little Italian place down the street."

They walked to the Italian restaurant, only to find a sign on the door: "Closed for Renovations."

Y/N giggled, trying to lighten the mood. "I guess the universe is testing our patience."

Five couldn't help but laugh. "Seems like it. How about we grab some takeout and head to the park anyway?"

With a pizza box in hand, they strolled through the park, the moon casting a gentle glow over the path. They found a bench by the lake and sat down, sharing the pizza and talking about everything and nothing.

Five found himself relaxing, the mishaps of the evening fading away as they laughed and talked. Y/N's presence was soothing, her laughter infectious.

"Who knew pizza on a park bench could be so nice?" Y/N mused, taking another bite.

Five smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. "I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself."

As they finished the pizza, Five noticed a small band setting up nearby, preparing for an impromptu performance. The first notes of a soft, romantic song floated through the air, and Five saw an opportunity.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, offering Y/N his hand.

She blushed but took his hand, letting him lead her to a small clearing. They danced slowly, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

"Despite everything that went wrong, this turned out pretty great," Y/N whispered.

Five looked into her eyes, feeling a surge of emotion. "It's not about the plans, it's about who you're with."

As the song ended, they stood there for a moment, lost in each other's gaze. Then, almost instinctively, they leaned in and shared their first kiss. It was soft and tender, filled with the promise of more to come.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N smiled, her cheeks flushed. "I think this is the best first date I've ever had."

Five chuckled, his heart light. "Me too."

They walked back to the bench, hand in hand, and sat down, watching the reflections of the moon on the lake. The night hadn't gone as planned, but it had been perfect in its own way.

And as they sat there, content in each other's company, Five realized that sometimes, the best moments are the ones you don't plan for.

[nvuy]

hi i'm back in this hellhole. currently thinking about falling asleep on top of gallagher and slobbering all over his fat tits. you know how it is

did you just call my super cool inbox a hellhole….. /j ohhhh jeepers this man makes me feel like a hole

ohhhhhhhhhhuggh especially if you’re in the lowlights of a club, or a casino, or something. he’s been serving you drinks all night, and he’s real good at it too. not enough to get you devastatingly wasted—gallagher has his morals—but enough to get you just over that tipsy state so he can laugh at you.

he knows your limits. he won’t give you anything more than what he’s already given you.

he knows alllll your favourite drinks, and sometimes he’ll whip up something new, just for you. he loves seeing your face light up, and then you’re gushing about the new drink (and it’s not a new drink on the menu. but, if you ask for it, he’ll promptly make a little side menu on the notes app in his phone for you, just so he doesn’t forget all the different mixtures he’s made for you).

but, yep. unfortunate circumstances, but you’re drunk, but hey! it’s friday night. live a little. he’ll keep a close eye on you all night, especially if anyone else comes and sits next to you at the bar. god forbid some idiot tries getting in your pants, because he’s snapping at them from across the counter.

otherwise, sir gentleman here will get off work and find you again. the bar is open all night long for this very reason. hands you some more water, and when he finds you can’t really stand at the moment, he’ll sit down next to you somewhere more quiet and entertain your quiet drunken ramblings.

eventually, as you always do, you fall asleep, and he adjusts you and gently presses your ear to his chest while he pulls a pack from his pocket and lights a cigarette. he’s more than happy to sit there forever with you, and the only reason you wake up is because he starts laughing when you start drooling on his uniform.

you’re morbidly embarrassed and still very much tipsy, but he waves you off, wipes the drool from your lips, and takes you home. he’ll stay if you want him to, and he’ll be there in the morning when you’re hungover. good times.

[torawro]

WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out…..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you. 

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives. 

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear. 

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat. 

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck. 

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.” 

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart  never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him. 

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a  challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours.  “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

[archangeldyke-all]

OMGOMG i love baby mommy sevika, but i keep thinking…. what would sevika be like with a kid who isn’t technically hers? like, reader had a child with someone else before even meeting sevika, and she always thought she hated kids and that it was a total dealbreaker for her, until she meets YOUR kid.

i can imagine the awkward first time meeting, tea parties in the living room while you’re making dinner, guarding that kid like her life depends on it when you all go out somewhere, letting them crawl into bed between the both of you when they have a nightmare :(( baby fever is a crazy thing fr.

AWEEEEE

men and minors dni

sevika's obsessed with you. it's pretty obvious.

she's always got her eyes glued to you from where you work behind the bar.

when you talk to her, she's always got a sweet little smile pulling up at the side of her lips as she listens, a sparkle in her eye each time she makes you laugh.

so, you aren't surprised when she asks you out.

you're just... a little hesitant.

"i'm sorry, forget i said anything, this was so stupid of me..." she sulks, turning away and rubbing the back of her neck. you squeak and reach over the bar, grabbing her wrist.

"i'd love to!" you say. she blinks in surprise. "it's just... i have a kid." you say. sevika blinks again.

"what?!" she asks. you laugh and nod.

"...yeah." you say. "i know you aren't really the 'kids' type, so... it's okay if you don't want to go out anymore." you say. sevika blinks again as she takes in the new information.

"since when?" she asks. you laugh.

"she's three and a half now." you say.

"what the fuck? why'd you never tell me?" she asks. you shrug.

"you're always talking about how you hate kids, i figured you wouldn't really be interested in hearing about mine."

"those are other kids, this one's yours! of course i wanna hear about her!" sevika shouts. you grin, then pull her across the bar to kiss her on the lips..

when you pull away, she's blushing.

for your first few dates, it's just you and sevika. you don't want to introduce your kid to anybody until you're certain they'll be around for a long time. she understands. and she absolutely loves spending some one-on-one time with you.

but, the more pictures of your kid you show her, the more stories you tell her about the little girl, the more sevika gets excited to meet her.

and then, about five or six dates in, sevika tells you she's in love with you. and your babysitter has a family emergency, and calls you half way through the date (while you're riding sevika, the both of you moaning 'i love you's against each other's lips) to tell you she's coming back to your apartment with your daughter in tow, and she'll be there in ten minutes.

you don't really get to prepare for any of it-- all you have time to do is pull your pants up and hide sevika's strap before your daughter is bursting through the door with a loud "ma! i'm home!"

at first, sevika's nervous as shit.

but you watch all her hesitation melt when your daughter lights up at the sight of a new friend in her home and starts lobbing her with question after question.

"what's your name!?"

"sevika."

"how old are you?"

"thirty eight."

"woah! that's so much older than me. i'm four!" she exclaims, waggling four fingers in sev's face. sevika chuckles.

"i thought you were still three."

your daughter groans. "i'm three and nine tenths, that's basically four!"

"you're right, i'm sorry." sevika says.

"what's your favorite color?"

"purple?" sevika guesses.

"me too!" your daughter gasps, clambering into sevika's lap. you cringe as you watch it happen, knowing how clammed up sevika gets when it comes to physical affection, especially from kids, but you're shocked when you watch sevika simply wrap an arm around her waist and help her adjust in her lap.

"what's your favorite animal?" sevika asks. your daughter grins.

"rhino!" she says. "it's like a unicorn and a dinosaur had a baby." she says.

"that's a good point." sevika says, smiling sweetly down at your daughter.

all your fears of the two of them meeting evaporate.

from that point on, the two of them are besties.

every time sevika comes over, she immediately searches for your daughter. when you've got her at the sitters, sevika pouts, complaining until you shut her up with kisses.

"i thought you hated kids." you complain one night as you watch sevika play dollhouse with your daughter. (she was supposed to be eating dinner with you on the couch while the two of you watched a movie.)

"yeah, 'cause most kids suck. you've got a real good one here, babe." sevika says, ruffling your daughter's hair, making her giggle.

sometimes, sev will come over to keep your rugrat occupied while you clean or cook or catch up on household chores. she's fucking amazing with her.

you've caught her with various clips in her hair and glitter on her eyes and lips as your daughter plays 'beauty salon' on her. sevika just grins and shrugs, then holds up her nails, all messily painted rainbow, for you to examine. "like my new look?" she asks. you snort.

"you might need some touch-ups, but you're really rocking those bobbles babe." you say, pointing to the little bobbles decorating the tiny ponytails in her hair.

sometimes, you'll catch them playing 'dinosaur', which is just sevika crawling around as your daughter straddles her back, cackling when sevika sits up on her knees and roars.

sevika quickly becomes your daughter's favorite person. when she doesn't come over, your girl pouts, asking you 'where your lady friend' is tonight.

and when she finally moves in with you, sevika becomes the designated 'storybook reader' at bedtime. apparently, she 'does the voices way better than you, ma.'

your daughter calls her 'babe'-- since it's what you're always calling her.

sevika's such a sucker for your girl, always sneaking her candies and eating her veggies off her plate for her, shooting her a wink each time.

and when you're out in public, sevika's always got your girl on her back, giving her a piggyback, and shooting nasty looks at anyone who does a double take at the sight of sevika toting around a squirming, laughing little girl.

one night, the two of you are curled in bed and sevika sighs.

"i never thought i'd love a kid like this." she says. you smile.

"you love her?" you ask. sevika nods.

"so much. it's insane. like... i'd die for the little shit in a heartbeat, y'know?" she asks. you grin and nod, pressing a kiss to her head.

"'s called being a mom." you say. sevika blushes, and you kiss her again.

over time, your girl starts calling sevika 'step-ma sev' or 'silly sevy' or, most commonly, 'stinky sev.'

sevika never complains about her, either. not once. not when she's on a sugar high and screaming while she runs laps around the house, not when she paints on the walls of your and sev's bedroom, not even when she interrupts you and sevika mid-sex to crawl in bed beside you, scared of the monster shaped shadows in her bedroom.

before she proposes to you, she asks your daughter for permission to join your little family. your little girl gives it gladly, but, her being five and all, accidentally ruins the surprise for you.

"'s sev' gonna propose to you when i'm there or is it just a special ma n' sevy thing?" she asks one morning as you're whipping up breakfast.

sevika freezes where she's pouring a glass of orange juice, and you burst into laughter.

"i dunno, baby, do you think you should be there?" you ask your kid. she nods.

"duh! i wanna see the fancy ring!" she says. you giggle.

"you wanna see a fancy ring huh?" you ask, ignoring sevika's stuttering beside you. "come with me." you say, waving your daughter to your bedroom.

when you return, sevika's still frozen in place, and your daughter is giddy with excitement, her hands behind her back.

"stinky sev!" she exclaims. sevika blinks down at her.

"y-yeah?" she asks, nervously.

your daughter thrusts the tiny velvet box in front of her, flipping open the lid, revealing the ring you'd picked out for sevika a few months ago.

"look what my ma got you!" she exclaims.

sevika blinks up at you with tears in her eyes and you shrug, gently taking the ring from your daughter's grip and sevika's hand in yours.

"you wanna be mine forever?" you ask. sevika blinks, tears quickly falling down her cheeks.

"you fucker, i wanted to do it first!" she complains.

"that's a dollar in the curse jar!" your kid exclaims. you both laugh.

"i should warn you before you say yes, though, i'm kinda a package deal with this brat." you say, ruffling your daughter's hair. she giggles.

"hey! i'm not a brat!" she exclaims. and then, when sevika laughs and swoops in to kiss you, "ewwwww!" she cries as she runs away.

sevika chuckles against your lips and you pull away with a smile.

"is that a yes?" you whisper. she nods, her voice too shaky for words.

from the living room your daughter calls for you. "did she say yes ma?"

"she said yes, babe." you call back.

"fuck yes!" she screams.

you and sevika both turn your heads to glare at her for the word.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[meanbossart]

Just thinking thoughts about Orin and Drow lore, and idk if this has been asked already, but

If Orin had just disappeared for like a year, not even Sceleritas could find her, with how obsessive pre-tadpole Drow was how would he handle that? Aside from being prideful and murdery, I don’t remember in the pre-tadpole Drow lore about any instance (after he made it to the temple) of him expressing anything else. Did the two ever have a wholesome moment?

Hmmmm not wholesome, no. I'm sorry to disappoint people who might wanted to see a more explicitly vulnerable side to both of them at that stage in their lives, but that's just not... How I envision things. I don't think anyone born into the temple would have had much room to express themselves in the way average people do.

What they did have was an undeniable connection and mutual understanding. This lasted for about 7 years, so between ages 18-25 for DU drow. (Canonically he's currently 28, give or take). I think that, sometimes, they also silently understood among themselves that things weren't always fair or good.

This might sound like a whole load of nothing to some people, but based on the culture within the cult, Orin's story, and the behavior of everyone involved in it, it seems huge to me that two people who were essentially groomed to be the embodiment of murder would harbor any kind of care for one another, even if it was subtle. The fact that they could share a bed, talk shit about Sarevok, and seamlessly work together and share in the glory of their deeds as equals is what intimacy looked like for them - before DU drow's ego (and the very need of a more explicitly intimate connection with someone, to be fair) got to his head.

They killed together, they rolled around in blood together, they bickered and fought and one time Orin stabbed him in the gut and DU drow punched her jaw out of it's socket. Then they flopped down on the ground and cackled about it while Sceleritas rushed in to stop the bleeding. Is that wholesome? I think for deified bhaalspawn who know nothing but that life it's the closest it gets.

There had to have been quiet moments I'm sure. Like Orin waiting around while DU drow got ready to go somewhere, him adjusting her headpiece, Orin slicing her brother's long hair off when he first arrived and looked like some sort of sinewy wood's creature. At night, they probably laid in bed in silence and sometimes stared at each other until either fell asleep.

I am very interested in not inventing an obscured, soft side to Orin that we didn't get to see, you know? While she wasn't always the level of manic we see in-game, she was completely unfit to function normally due to her upbringing, and this reflects in her relationships. DU drow is also undeniably emotionally stunted, just in a slightly different way.

I got off rambling to no one's surprise LOL but to answer the first part of your question - I don't think he would have been quite as dramatic about Orin just up and vanishing, as there's no explicit suggestion of death in that. He would have been insufferable to be around for a while, but in that scenario I could see his duties keeping him busy.

Not to mention that, while through death, she would be leaving him unwillingly - disappearing with no trace implies the uncomfortable possibility that she truly, honestly, just didn't want to be around him. That allows room for contempt and bitterness to fester until you wrongly convince yourself there was never any love there at all, even if just to soothe your own conscience.

He would have just become a much, much worse person that way in the sense that he would have nothing to focus on besides for his lord's will - as horrific as his attitude towards Orin was, it is very much a human feature to desperately cling to connection. With Orin around, he had a little bit of fucked up tenderness and love in him - it was a personal desire completely separate from his "job", a vestige of free-will. Without her, he just has Bhaal and whatever Bhaal wants.

Orin has always unwittingly anchored him, and then, later freed him. And he never ever deserved any of it.

🤷

[takochan-writes]

Don't Make a Sound - DBF!Javier Pena x f!reader

Pairing: DBF!Javier Pena x f!reader

W/C: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DBF (Dad's bestfriend), pwp, p in v, creampie

A/N: sex with fireworks view on your bedroom window? HELL YEA 'MURICA! Lmao. It's not even the 4th of July… but fuck it, right? It's STILL July after all lmao

Summary: Your family is hosting a party for the 4th of July in your family house until midnight. But, a certain someone comes into your room to have some alone time with you.

It's the 4th of July and your family decided to invite their friends and neighbors to have some barbeque in your family house. It's a big day for them, but you can't help it to wait for someone special that you know he's gonna come tonight. It's your dad's best friend, Javier Pena.

And you're not even going to lie, Javier is one of the most attractive people on this planet. You have known him since you were in middle school. When your dad invites his best friends to look at his new car, he introduces you to all of them. But, you were smitten by him, because of his broad shoulders and that handsome face of his. His tight pants and those beautiful brown eyes keep you on the edge every time he comes over to your family home.

You've been thinking about him ever since. You think that he's taken an interest in you too. You always catch him looking at you with…. hungry eyes. Like a predator trying to keep an eye on his prey before anyone or anything else can catch you before him. Every time you catch him looking at you, he'll look the other way real quick. But, you noticed him every time.

But today was different. Today, you're excited to go see the fireworks, especially him. Your parents and their friends are already on the porch, barbequing, drinking, and having some fun talking about their lives. They seem busy with what they're doing. You finally catch his eyes in the crowds of people. You both start a starring contest for a while with flirty eyes. But, you suddenly break the eye contact to wink and start walking to your bedroom upstairs. You hope he got the hint.

So here you are now, sitting on your bed in your white nightgown, waiting for Javier to show up with all your hopes and dreams riding high in the air. Finally, Javier knocked on your door and started making his way inside your room.

He walks into your room like he owns the place and closes the door. "You waitin' for me, darling?"

You just nodded and gave your best puppy dog eyes.

He chuckles lightly and pulls his shirt off. You gasp quietly, watching him take his pants off and then lay them down somewhere on the floor next to his shoes and shirt. He turns back to face you and gives you a devilish grin.

"Are we going to do things or just stare at each other?" He raises a brow and you giggle a little.

He got on top of you and your breath hitches when you feel his hand rest on your hip as you close your eyes. You open your eyes to find him smirking at you. He didn't let you wait and slowly slide his cock into your wet cunt. You groan as you feel the head stretching you.

"Shhh, baby girl, shhhh.. It won't hurt so much if you stay quiet"

You close your eyes and just enjoy the feeling of having him inside you. But the feeling of him stretching you was almost too much. You have enough experience with sex, but you didn't expect him to be this big. You start to whimper and cry a little bit because of the overwhelming feelings you experienced.

"Shhh, babygirl. Don't cry. I know it's too much for you, huh? My cock is too big for your cute little cunt? Just breathe in, honey. You're taking me so well. I'm almost all the way inside of ya, honey"

He keeps his body as still as possible to let you adjust to his bulbous head before he thrust forward and pushes his full length inside of you.

"God dammit, honey. You're squeezing me so much. I'm trying so hard not to fuck you like a fuck toy that you are. Do you like this, babygirl? Huh? You like my cock so much that you squeeze me this hard to keep me inside of you? I know you fucking like this because I can feel you dripping all over my balls, honey"

Soon enough you feel the familiar wave of pleasure washing over you and you cry out loud. You hear Javier moan loudly along with you. He finally, slowly thrusting into you.

"Oh fuuucck… that's it, babygirl. You've taken all of me inside of you. Fuck, you squeezing me so much, babygirl. You feel so good, so warm. I'm so proud of you, honey. You are my perfect little toy, huh?" he murmurs against your ear and you just whimper in response.

He starts thrusting into you fast. As he hits the spot that you need, you start screaming his name. You can hear him moaning as he pumps his cock faster. The waves of pleasure are crashing and crashing over you and your legs are shaking uncontrollably. You feel his cock twitch in your tight pussy and you feel him fill you completely. A few seconds later, you finally reach your climax and he comes deep into you. He grabs you tightly with his arms and collapses on top of you.

"I love you, babygirl. I love you so much," he mutters and pulls his head from the crook between your neck and shoulder and kisses you passionately.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 17 - "Thad"

Computer Literacy was blessedly easy at least, she thought as she stumbled into the classroom, taking a steadying breath.

Her eyes almost automatically glanced up at N, who had nearly always given her a wave when he saw her enter, though today it looked like he was completely absorbed in conversation with someone else, a boy in a red backwards hat, brown peeking out from underneath it. Who was leaning on the back of her usual seat with his arms crossed.

She warily approached, was she going to have to find somewhere else to sit? There were a couple of others still free but, her and N were partners, how would they still work together?

She ignored the second train of thought, the one that was making her heart ache slightly at the prospect of having to go elsewhere, bring replaced by a more interesting friend so easily.

But, she didn't even have time to question it before N noticed her, and he gave her a radiant smile. “Hey Uzi! Sorry Thad, that's her seat your leaning on.”

The boy looked back at her, his eyes a dull green, like grass that had been shocked with weedkiller. A sports jacket clung to his shoulders, ‘Copper Football Team’ emblazoned on the front in yellow letters.

“Oh Hey, I'm Thad, sorry for taking your seat.” He moved off the back of her chair, dunking his hands in his pockets as he smiled, it was friendly, not as bright as N's but still warm and inviting.

“It's… fine.” She said awkwardly, in no real mood to socialize with the pain in her side.

“N said you two went ghost hunting last weekend. It's Gnarly, you two are braver then I am. I still get scared by the raccoon that lives under my house.”

Uzi blinked, taking a moment to register that she was being talked to, and a second more for her to realize it wasn't negative.

“Oh uh- Yeah, we did.” Uzi replied after a moment of struggling to bend down to put her backpack under the table, she didn't catch the way N looked at her worried lying when she flinched. “I wouldn't call N brave though, he got scared of an itty bitty spider, hehehe.”

“Hey!” N protested, pouting but not in a way that suggested he was actually upset.

“Aw she exposed you dude!” Thad laughed, but his attention was quickly back on her. “You're Uzi right? N mentioned your name, it's super badass. I wish I shared my name with a gun.”

Uzi felt herself blush, still not used to being complimented. And she couldn't really find the words to say to it either.

“I don't think Thad's a bad name.” N came to her rescue, thankfully. And Thad looked at him deadpan.

“When you find any character named “Thaddeus McFlynn” who isn't just in the background, or doesn't die a horrible death. Let me know.”

Uzi winced, man had a name like an old british man. She didn't envy him. N just shrugged.

“Anyway, I gotta get back to class, coach will chew my ass if I'm gone too long, I just came here to pick up his prints.” He picked up a stack of what looked like sign up papers, and turned back at N.

“Hey, I'm serious about signing up for one of our teams, you'd be great!” Thad gave him a finger gun and Uzi a small salute before he left the classroom, Uzi watching as he left.

N didn't really reply to that, just looked a little sad before shaking his head and returning all his attention to Uzi.

“Sorry about that. He was talking about me joining the basketball team since I'm so tall, then we somehow got onto what we did over the weekend and… yeah.” He rambled, but Uzi just nodded softly, it wasn't like she was expecting to remain N's only freind or anything, not with his personality. It's what she expected… honestly.

“It's fine.” How much had she said that today? It felt like a lot, her side throbbed uncomfortably as she tried to adjust.

“Hey uh. I know you told me to stop asking. And I promise I totally am, but… are you okay, you've looked uncomfortable all day.” He spoke up again after a second, and Uzi felt every single muscle in her body tense up, she was fine. She'd been through worse, way worse.

She turned to glare at him, words of vitriol bubbling up in her throat, but she only halfway opened her mouth before his soft, warm expression made them die into nothing, a gentle smile worn on his face and genuine concern behind those caramel eyes.

She sighed.

“I'm fine, really, just… had a run in with someone. I've been through worse.”

“Oh… well um…” N really didn't know how to help, that answer was… vague at best. But he didn't want to scare her off from opening up more by pushing her. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked at him for a beat, taking in his nervous smile.

“No.” She replied simply, and the window he'd had was abruptly shut in his face. His smile fell a little.

“You can keep distracting me though. That's helping.” She added after a minute, and his head snapped back up, she was avoiding his eyes, but he caught a small smile gracing her face.

And with another brilliant smile, thats what he did, dragging her into a conversation about dogs that she did her best to listen intently to, the pain being slightly buried under the weight of his voice.

When it was finally time to go home, Uzi was bracing herself on one of the brick pillars in front of the building, knowing all she needed was to walk home and she could treat herself with some sweet, sweet painkillers. It was just… actually getting there that was going to be the difficult part.

It wasn't that far away, but with how difficult walking had become, she knew it was going to be complete and total agnoy. Stalling, she was stalling.

What were the chances of her dad actually being home for once to drive her back? Probably slim to none, but… she could check.

She pulled out her phone, Khan being the first name in her contacts, the second, and last, being N.

Uzi: Hey Dad, just wondering if u could pick me up from school today.

She stared at the messaging app for almost a full minute with no response before she grumbled, leaning against the brick and closing her eyes for a moment.

When she did eventually bring her head back up, she realized that she'd been standing against the pillar for way too long, the second wave of busses already on their way out, meaning she'd been there for at least ten minutes.

Maybe she was in more pain than she thought…

“Uzi?” A voice caught her attention, and she spun around to be face to face with N's stupidly tall figure, Thad was right… he would be good for basketball.

She was starting to feel warm, and slightly nauseous, neither were any good signs, bit both she ignored.

“O-oh hey N.” Shit, her voice was a little shaky now too, she placed a palm onto the brick behind her, feeling a bit like she might pass out. Crap, that probably meant Lizzy pinched something in her somewhere, that was great.

“I thought you would've left already. Don't you walk home?” One of his brows were raised, he looked behind her, Tessa had pulled in and was waiting for him.

“Just… enjoying the day…?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” He asked, clearly not believing her in the slightest. Uzi blinked, trying to stifle the painful tremble in her voice.

“It didn't.” She tried, trying to begin to walk away, only to stumble and nearly trip over nothing.

Fuck

“Woah hey! Uzi!” His hands were on her now, she didn't want them to be, she didn't want to be seen as weak, but her stupid body had at this point completely betrayed her, she felt the bile begin to burn it's way into her throat.

Oh shit not he-

She scrambled over to the nearest bush, throwing his hands off her and completely emptied her bruised stomach, holding onto one of those weird round concrete nubs for support.

When she finished, she shakily stood up, wiping her mouth, a small amount of blood coming off onto the back of her hand.

Still… she did feel marginally better.

N was behind her, looking between Tessa's car and her franticly, a hand gently resting on her back. She tried to catch her breath.

She heard a car door slam and rushing footsteps coming her direction before light invaded her vision

I'm about to pass out…

She thought before she felt herself begin to slowly fall backwards, before all her senses went to static…

Next ->

[soapisahimbo]

Their S/O Already Has A Kid - 141 (+Alejandro & König) Edition

Anonymous asked: Your work is god tier, absolutely slaying rn. I'm not sure if you're taking requests but if you are... hear me out- can I please get the mw2 boys with an s/o who already has a kid? How would they interact with the kid?

So I wasn't entirely sure on what angle to approach this from, but I've written this as if reader has been a single parent who has worked with 141 for a while (not necessarily a soldier), the other parent isn't really in the picture and the kid is somewhere around 4-5 years old. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I sincerely hope you enjoy!

warnings: none! couldn't find a good gif to use though :(

John 'Soap' MacTavish:

From the second he finds out you have a child, way before there's even any suggestion that you will one day be a couple, he's on a mission to become The World's Best Uncle. It's like he's participating in a competition that no one else signed up for - he wants to be your kid's absolute favourite and he'll be damned if anyone else tries it. Will frequently ask you about the kid; "how're they doin' in school?", "do they have friends to play with?", "what do they want for Christmas?", "are they growin' well?", and even checks up with you to see if they need new clothes or anything. He will always have something for them for their birthday or Christmas and will happily say to you, "this is from Uncle Soap, all right? Take pictures when they open it, I wanna see how they like it!"

He has a natural desire to look after the people around him, and since he considers you a close and fast friend, he'll want nothing more than to help you out if he can. The closer you grow, the more he gets the urge to prove himself worthy - to prove that he'll be good to you and that you can trust him - and it's a sentiment he keeps long after you get together. You and your child become like a family to him, and it's a family he's keen on keeping.

The two of them will be like two peas in a pod. He'll play around with them near constantly, tell them stories from his job (adjusted to be more child-friendly) and teach them how to play football. He asks them about school, helps them with homework and he will happily treat the kid as his own. You're the love of his life and this child is his best little friend. He loves you both dearly and it fills him with immense happiness to have you two to come back home to once you live together. If he's available for it, he'll go with you guys to events and theme parks, and hopefully longer vacation trips. He doesn't ever expect them to call him "dad" (although if it were to happen, it would probably have him sobbing uncontrollably), he's just happy to be with you, and to be The World's Best Uncle Soap.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

It's worth mentioning that he'll be hesitant to get any closer to you than necessary at first, not because of any sort of disdain towards you or towards kids, but because of who he is. Simon has been through some terrible shit, and his work consists of doing even more terrible shit, and so he thinks that being any sort of role model to a child is way out of his range.

This doesn't mean he doesn't care, though. When you first get to know him, he seems cold and aloof and he doesn't seem to show any particular interest in you. What with you being on his team though, and him knowing that you're a single parent, he might approach you with the intent of at least showing some sort of support, whatever support he might be capable of showing.

He'll get something for the kid, like a stuffed animal or some sort of toy, but he doesn't hand it to you personally; he'll leave it somewhere where he knows you'll find it, like on your desk if you have one, and pretend like nothing happened.

He wants to keep his distance, but he can't deny the strange urge to look after you. It starts slow. He never asks, but he'll listen when you tell him about your child; how they've been doing lately, what you've done during the weekend, something funny they did or said. At first you might think he's ignoring you, but then one day he hands you a little trinket and tells you it's "for the little one, figured they might like it."

Growing closer and realizing that he has feelings for you is a complicated ordeal for him and he tries to keep it locked away deep down, but he's unable to stop himself for some reason. Once together, he cares greatly about you and your child, even if he might not always know how to show it.

He makes an unspoken promise to never let anything harm either of you, and so he keeps you under the radar as best he can. His team might know that you're together, but that's as far as they're informed. You won't hear much from him while he's out on missions, and he rarely mentions you or your kid to anyone, keeping any information about you sealed up tightly in the back of his mind, and if anyone asks he'll only give short-clipped answers, if he even bothers to answer in the first place. It's all to keep you safe.

With you, though, he's much more loving and gentle than others would even guess he's capable of. If you live together, he'll pick your kid up in his arms when he gets home and plant a gentle and loving kiss on your lips in greeting. Never raises his voice at anything if one or both of you are near, even if he's aggravated or annoyed. He plays ever so gently with your kid, even if they're play-wrestling and he's tossing them around because he's incredibly aware of his strength, and he sits patiently and quietly while they doodle on his arms or even his face and tells them bad (child-friendly) puns to get them to laugh. You and the kid are practically the only ones that get to see him smile.

His own childhood was incredibly traumatizing, and he tries his damnedest to make sure that that doesn't bleed over onto you or the kid, even if it means that he has to step away for a while. He's working on it, you might just need to give him some time. If this is as serious as he thinks it is, he wants to be the absolute best that he can be for you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

He is oh, so gentle with your child. He's the dude that calmly and casually follows your kid around to make sure that they don't get in trouble while they explore. He's done it since the first time they met, and he still does it now, only interfering when they're headed somewhere they shouldn't be, or when they turn to him to play or talk. The type to offer to take care of them so that you can rest or focus on other things, and tells you "it's no skin off my nose" when you tell him that he really doesn't need to. He lets the kid approach him rather than try to get them to interact with him, and it's because of this exact mindset that kids usually love him. If they want to hug him, he'll happily wrap them up in a big and warm hug, but he's not going to convince them to because kids deserve their own bodily autonomy just as much as any adult.

He's one of those people who just magically makes kids fall asleep even when they're in that "I am dead tired but I refuse to sleep for some ungodly reason so I'm just gonna scream and cry at everything"-state, and it baffles you every time, but you're certainly not complaining. He has this air about him that is just very calming, and he makes both you and your kid feel immensely safe just by his presence alone. He starts out as just a close and caring friend, and the transition to more than just friends to an actual couple is a smooth one; one day you just kiss and you're not even surprised. It feels natural to have him around and when you see him interact with your child, it's like he's supposed to be there. You can't imagine anyone else, as if whatever empty space was there had been Gaz-shaped all along.

Gets your kid to laugh delightfully without even trying, wipes their tears gently and kisses their cheeks when they've scraped their knees or bumped their head, listens intently when they talk, even if they're just speaking nonsense ("but of course, all superheroes are from Norway."*) and will absolutely not laugh when they call Soap a dumb stinky poopyface.

Despite his calm demeanour though, Gaz is still a soldier, and very well-trained one at that. Should anyone approach you or your kid with the intent to harm you or threaten you, rest assured that he will not just let that slip by. He would give his life to protect both of you without even a hint of hesitation.

*based on an actual conversation I had with one of my nephews

Alejandro Vargas:

He doesn't care what anyone says, doesn't care what anyone thinks, doesn't care about what the kid looks like or how old they are, he is Dad™ now. Will wholeheartedly claim your child as his own and fight anyone who questions it. What the hell do you mean they look nothing alike, that's his fucking kid, are you blind?

He's so eager and willing to help, even long before you start dating. Takes any chance he gets to invite you and your child over, be it for food, for movie nights, to go to the park, or simply to talk. Before you know it, he has clothes and toothbrushes dedicated to both of you at his place, reminding you again and again that his door is always open for you; no need to even knock.

Let's be real, as generous and charming as he is, it's his sincerity that has you falling for him. He offers to take care of the kid while you rest, or to come over to clean up your home (Rodolfo might join as well, partly because of his goodhearted nature, partly because Alejandro roped him into it), and he looks you deep in the eyes when he tells you that his family is your family, be it Los Vaqueros or his own blood relatives. It's how he confesses to you as well, telling you that even if you don't reciprocate, he'll still be there for you.

If you didn't know any better, you yourself would start to question whether or not Alejandro is somehow the actual father. It's like they have some sort of telepathic connection, almost. The only one who knows that kid's moods and mannerisms and habits better than him, is you. He works with you like a team to make sure that you're always on the same page and make sure that you know that he only ever wants the best for you and the kid. Teaches them Spanish if it's not already their native language, and if they happen to pick up a curse-word from somewhere, he'll be horrified (kid said "puta" once and you thought he'd have a heart attack).

Much like Ghost, he'll keep you under the radar to keep you safe. Sends letters and gifts in secret when he's deployed, and now has a stronger determination than ever to stay alive. He doesn't ever want to imagine that one day might be the last he'll ever see you, so he'll walk through hell and high water to make sure he will return to you.

König:

He doesn't really know how to handle kids, but he sure does try. He is huge compared to this tiny little human - his calf alone is almost the same size as the entire child - so he tries to shrink himself down as much as he can. They might be a bit intimidated by him at first, but once that passes he is practically given the role of a human jungle gym. He stays alert, making sure that he's able to catch them should they fall off, and as awkward as he might feel, he would never let this little one come to harm. When you tell your kid to leave him be or be gentler with him, he quickly assures you that it's no problem and that he doesn't mind it at all; thinks it's quite fun actually. Before you know it, this tiny being less than a quarter of his size will be like his little sidekick, and it's honestly the funniest thing you've seen.

He's nervous around you though, not only because it's your child, but because over time the harmless little crush he's had on you grows stronger and stronger and stronger, and he's not sure how to handle it. When he tells the kid to be good to you, it's partly directed towards himself as well, as if he's telling himself to look after you. The idea of holding the child in one arm and you in the other fills him with such warmth that it almost catches him off guard. You're the one who tells him how you feel, and it kickstarts a full avalanche of stumbling words out him, because he's trying to find the right way to tell you that he feels the same and that he wants to be a part of your life.

He will be incredibly gentle with that child - he'll fuzz over the tiniest little bump or bruise or scrape, even if they're not bothered by it in the slightest. Picks them up very carefully while they can pull and tug and jump on him with all the strength their little body can muster without him ever budging - play-wrestling and tickle fights will be very carefully done because he would hate to accidentally hurt them. Loves teaching them German if they don't already speak it, and much like Alejandro, he will practically see his life flash by his eyes if they ever happen to learn a curseword from somewhere - especially if they accidentally picked it up from him.

Will keep any semblance of violence away from you and your child to as far of an extent as he can, but if anything happened to either one of you, he'd crush the skulls of everyone involved with his bare hands, that's for sure.

[houpss]

Hurt

Lily had a panic attack during her performance

🧊–return to masterlist ¡! ✥

First person narration, angst, panic attacks, tears.

This was an important performance, SKZ prepared very carefully.I've been preparing for so long, I wanted to be the best for STAY, I wanted to be proud of me! It was a big award where we wanted to receive a big award, Daesang. The boys were tense, they did everything professionally that was needed. The performance was supposed to be with the song "MEGAVERSE" and everything turned out perfectly.

"What are our lovely lady thinking about?" Minho jokingly asked, patting me on the back as I was warming up in front of the studio mirror.

"I'm worried, Ho, I want to show YOU that I deserve to be a part of Stray kids." I bit my lip and shook my body before turning to Minho in a half turn.

"You are an integral part of us, and whoever disagrees with this goes fuck themselves," Minho said briefly, but very accurately. Lily laughed at his words

"What are you laughing at, it's time for us to go"

"And where are the others?"

"Seungmin and Changbin are now buying water for everyone, Chan is discussing some points with staff, and everyone else is waiting in the car. Come on,Bear...You're too slow"

I left with Minho, the atmosphere was quite tense and everyone felt it. We sat down in the car:I was sitting next to Felix, who was taking new selfies for Bubble and we took a selfie together; Jeongin had already fallen asleep on Chan's shoulder, Changbin and Hyunjin were jokingly arguing; Seungmin was listening to music on headphones, and Jison and Minho were pestering each other. Lily exhaled and whispered to Felix, "I'm so worried, freckle..as if I don't have the right to make mistakes."

"Oh... Lily..this is absolutely normal, our work anticipates constant stress. Firstly, you are an ordinary living person and life without mistakes is impossible, STAY will love you any, like other Members, you will not get worse from this," Felix said with a smile and took Lily's hand in his, he understood how important support is to her now.

Some fans literally used the phrase "I'm ot8, but Lily..."

I put my head on Felix's shoulder, and he squeezed my hand harder.

We arrived at the filming location, and staff began to prepare us. I had bright makeup done with black shaded arrows, blue lenses were put on and the tone of my face was adjusted so that it shone aesthetically, perfectly. My dyed burgundy hair was twisted into a lot of curls, and my clothes were a rather strict version, an earpiece was hooked on my ear.The boys were having fun and laughing, of course it was loud and noisy in the SKZ Dressing Room...I tried to join in their conversation, but I just made it worse for myself.I don't belong here.I looked at myself in the mirror, my throat constricted, I just whispered to myself:"a living doll." I don't want to be here, I have to be somewhere else. Why such thoughts?The first signs of anxiety.

Chan noticed my condition and gently patted me on the shoulder: "Princess,is everything okay?".I'm scared."Chan frowned and took me to the nearest couch so the boys wouldn't see them.He stroked her hands with his fingers, his lips briefly kissed her forehead so as not to erase the tone from her face."My beautiful one, you are perfect and everything will go well, you make the STAY and boys so happy. You'll like this performance," Chan patted his back and gave a bottle of water in his hands, "And after the award we'll go home and watch some movie, okay?"

I nodded and hugged him briefly, my lips were frozen: "Thank you, my love"

It was time to go on stage, I gave the boys a bright smile and we went on stage to the noisy STAY, it became dark.The spotlight fell on me, and I took a deep breath, ready to dive into the dance. But suddenly my heart started pounding wildly, pounding loudly in my chest, I'm suffocating again. The light became blinding, the sounds became unbearable, and the air around me became suffocating. My vision was blurred, and my hands were shaking uncontrollably. Tears welled up in my eyes, I want to cry so much, fear gripped me. I was engulfed by a powerful force that engulfed me, completely paralyzing me. Every muscle in my body was tense, and it was impossible to control the waves of panic that were spreading through me.I was engulfed by a powerful force that engulfed me, completely paralyzing me. Every muscle in my body was tense, and it was impossible to control the waves of panic that were spreading through me. I desperately tried to regain control, to suppress the panic, but it continued to intensify. The adrenaline coursing through my veins only fueled the fire of my anxiety. The performance I had been working so hard on was slipping away, disappearing into the darkness around me. The music deafened me, I looked around in confusion, it's time to perform. My body was moving, I didn't understand what I was doing, my body was working automatically.The reality of the situation has dissolved, and all that remains is an overwhelming sense of impending doom. Thoughts raced through my head, saying that I wasn't good enough, that I would embarrass myself in front of everyone. It was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders, hampering my every move.It was my turn to play, my body continued to move gracefully at the same time sharply, singing broke from my lips, I tried my best to suppress tears and shaking in my body, just not now, please.During one of the elements of the choreography, I exchanged glances with Hyunjin when the scenes were going on at the frn while there was a part of Jison. Hyunjin nodded to me softly and squeezed my hand for a moment, and I smiled gratefully.With all my determination, I overcame my fear. The path ahead was uncertain, but I didn't let panic dictate my fate. The support of my boys and the love of art that fueled my passion became beacons of light leading me forward. "Welcome to the Stray Kids HOT MEGAVERSE" Felix and I dictated this last line together. The lights went out, and Staye's deafening support swept through the hall.When the last notes echoed through the hall, I was overcome by a sense of accomplishment. I faced my fears face to face without giving in to panic. It wasn't a flawless performance, but it was filled with sincere emotions and unwavering determination.The applause that followed was dedicated not only to the performance, but also to the resilience and strength it took to overcome my panic attack.I exhaled exhausted and we went down from the stage to the idol area. I bowed politely to my friends and colleagues. We sat down at our table, and under the table I felt Chan's supportive grip and Hyunjin's proud gaze.I squeezed Chan's fingers under the table.From that day on, I vowed never to let fear dictate my path. I knew that panic attacks were part of my personality, but they didn't define me. I will continue my work. I'm part of the Stray Kids. Hwang Lily will never fade away.

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!simon or price and widow reader. He doesn’t know how to comfort her after she lost her husband and was left alone to raise their little girl, but he does know he’s going to die trying.

i'll use Price because he makes me insane. He's older than you by a bit, so it never felt right for him to pursue you, even though he never missed the looks you gave him when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

he doesn't know what it's like to lose a partner, nor does he even want to know. But what he does know is you.

both of you were essentially raised together, so when he finds out about the terrible news, he's already knocking on your front door. he doesn't say anything when you open the door, just takes you in his arms.

he maneuvers you towards the couch, and holds your small hand in his, as you cry. the baby cries in the other room, and he pats your thigh.

I've got it, love. Take your time.

his heavy boots thud as he walks towards the nursery, and in a couple of minutes, the house is silent again. john comes out to the living room, and your little baby is fisting his facial hair— he doesn't seem to care at all.

john just coos at the baby, not even flinching when she pulls a few hairs from the root.

the image is gut-wrenching because, may your late husband forgive you, but this was what you had wanted— you've loved john since you were both kids.

of course, things never seem to go your way. not with john, and now, with your late husband.

wiping your tears with the palms of your hands, you approach john with your arms extended toward your baby.

thank you for passing by, john. i'm not alright but i will be, soon enough. i'll take her, i'm sure you have better things to do than be here with me.

he doesn't give you the baby. his face is stern, sky-blue eyes hardened as he gazes at you.

is he mad?

his jaw clenches as he exhales loudly.

he's mad.

john shakes his head and scratches the back of his head with one hand.

i've known you for most of your life. you've never held your tongue back on me before, so don't start now. you don't want me here? then say that. otherwise, go wash up. i'll watch the baby.

his eyes soften when he sees your eyes glisten, and he pulls you in with his free arm, pressing a prickly kiss to your forehead.

i'm sorry, sweetheart. truly. but i'm here for you, whatever you need.

he doesn't go home that night. nor that week. nor the one after that. he goes to work and comes home to you. your heart is in turmoil, torn between grieving for your late husband and adjusting to the presence of another man in your life.

it all comes to head one day, when john answers to your baby's call.

dada.

you talk to him when she's put down to a nap. well, yell at him, more like.

what are you doing here? really? don't you have a wife somewhere? a family? are you here out of some sense of duty? guilt? you don't need to be here, taking care of a baby that isn't yours, john.

he lets you rant, get it all off your chest. once you finish, he pulls you in for a hug, and tells you that no, that little girl might not be his biologically, but she could be his in every other way. just like you could be.

you harshly push him away at that.

how dare you? i, you... i've loved you since we were kids, john! and you broke my heart, which i can understand because there is nothing that dictates that you had to return my feelings. but then i move on, grow a family with someone else, and suddenly you want me? you need, i... don't touch me. i need time to think.

you leave him there in the room, and then john hears the baby crying.

he scratches the back of his head, and heads toward the nursery. when the baby sees him, she throws her grubby hands up, gesturing to be picked up.

dada.

yes, sweetheart. i'm your dada.

schemeerrrr.

[luvsunarin]

[ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader ] ෴ IN WHICH⠀your roommate tries to convince you to join her band.

warnings・CORNY CORNY CORNY. i wrote this at 3 in the morning and did not proof read or edit this so my apologies if it makes no sense LOL

wc・1.1k || short read lolz. p2 mayb!?

APART OF⠀⠀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. BAND AUS [ the collection ]

you laid on your arm chair in the living room with your head resting on the arm rest, while your legs dangled over the armrest on the opposite side of the small couch meanwhile your roommate sat on the floor in front of you while some of her band mates sat on the couch and some on the floor.

"c'mon y/n! we need a drummer, and you're the perfect option!" nobara pleaded you.

"look nobara, i'm truly flattered but i don't know." you sighed and shrugged.

"why not? didn't you tell me you used to be in a band in high school with megumi at one point?" she glanced between the two of you.

your eyes widened for a subtle second, "no? i never told you that." you told her and squinted at megumi.

"well then megumi did! he said that you were the drummer and that you played like no one else." she repeated his words dramatically which made megumi roll his eyes.

"didn't i tell you to not bring that up?" he scoffed.

"desperate times call for desperate measures." itadori reasoned with a shrug.

"well he's being dramatic. i really was an average drummer. our lead singer would always get mad at me 'cause i'd constantly fuck up during practices."

"yet you played flawlessly at shows." megumi added, staring at you intensely.

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"you rarely played good at practice but whenever it came to shows, you played perfectly." he said. "oh but ya know, it has been a while so i understand if you got even worse." a smirk formed on his features.

you raise an eyebrow at him and send him a brief glare, which he returned.

itadori cleared his throat and stared between the two of you who were staring very intensely at each other then glanced at nobara. "maybe this isn't such a good idea–"

"no, you know what? i'll do it." you scoffed.

they all went wide-eyed, "what?!"

"i'll be your drummer," you specified. "then i'll prove to fushiguro that i've only gotten better at drumming."

itadori and nobara's bright features dropped when you said that, "seriously? just for competition?"

"nah. she's just saying that 'cause she misses playing the drums. and she misses being in a band with me." megumi teased.

you scoffed, "in your dreams."

"yeah, i dreamt about it every night so much to the point it became reality."

your features relaxed and you adjusted your legs on the arm chair, "whatever."

"i'll let our manager know then!" nobara cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence that grew upon them and she pulled out her phone. "gojo'll be thrilled."

"seriously? megumi's dad is the manager of this band too?" you stiffled your laughter.

"he's not my dad–"

"yet he's changed your diapers more than toji ever did." you cut him off and shrugged.

he scoffed, "whatever."

nobara clicked on gojo's contact and pressed call. "gojo, you won't believe it!"

you heard gojo's muffled voice through the phone, "what? wait, let me guess– you got y/n to be your drummer?"

"yup! she said she's only doing it to prove to fushiguro that she's still an amazing drummer but i know that's bullshit." nobara whispered followed by a chuckle.

"i heard that kugisaki." you called out.

itadori rushed over to the phone as well, "yup, they probably miss each other a lot." he whispered.

"you guys are right in front of us." megumi pointed out.

the other three rolled their eyes. three because you just know that gojo rolled his eyes as well. "fine then we'll go somewhere you can't hear us!" they made their way to the kitchen and continued to gossip there with gojo.

which left you and megumi.

the silence wasn't awkward. the air felt stuffy but not awkward. however you broke the silence by asking megumi a question, "do you seriously think i'm the best drummer or were you over-exaggerating 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" you teased as a smirk tugged on your lips.

megumi clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, "are you seriously joining the band because you wanna prove to me you're still the best drummer or 'cause you missed being in a band with me?" he mocked you.

you thought for a moment, "neither. i miss playing the drums." you told him confidently.

"i'm heart broken, really." he said dramatically. "you didn't miss me?"

"sure i did," you chuckled at him. "i missed throwing my drum sticks at your head before a show."

"i'd always keep it in my pocket during the show for goodluck."

"aw, was i your good luck charm?" you mocked him and laughed.

"you could say that if it makes you happy." he rolled his eyes.

"nah, i'd rather think of it that you had my drum stick in your pocket so that you could always have a reminder that i'm putting you under pressure." you looked at him.

he laughed softly, "i'd prefer the good luck thing."

"i wouldn't. if i kept one of your guitar strings in my pocket, i'd pressure myself to play ten times better." you spoke, "but then again, you don't like being put under pressure. so i see why you prefer the good luck thing." you smirked at him.

he looked at you weirdly while a smile subconsciously snuck onto his features, "i'd put myself under pressure for you."

"gross," you looked at him with a playfully disgusted look. "that's corny."

"it was a joke asshole," he shook his head. "hey but didn't you notice that i played better with your drumstick in my pocket than when i didn't?"

"under pressure."

"whatever." he sighed. "i'm glad you joined the band." he told you, changing the topic.

you hummed, "oh yeah? so you did miss being in a band with me." you confirmed.

"whatever helps you sleep at night. you sleep deprived fuck."

you looked at him playfully offended, "sleep deprived fuck?" you repeated his words. "i can't believe you."

"sure y/n. remind me of how many hours of sleep you get?"

"too far buddy, too far," you joked followed by a laugh. "anyway, how have you been?"

"better now that you joined the band." he smirked.

"oh? so you really missed me?" you joked.

"yeah," he finally admitted. "i didn't just miss being in a band with you but i missed you." he added.

you stared at him, "oh yeah? i missed you too actually." you admitted as well.

"sure you did. wasn't i the reason you left our old band?"

"well now you're the reason i'm joining your new one." you chuckled, "you gotta quit doing that– letting the past interfere with the future."

he sighed in defeat, "so you did miss me, huh?"

"oh shut up." you gave in and smiled.

﹫heartshapedjewls' work! do not copy! || xtra words frm jules: im contemplating whether or not i should make a prt2 butttt idk... MORE BAND AUS TO COMEEE!! im so excited to write for star treatment 🫂. anyway have a good day yall, and stay hydrated!

[swifty-fox]

writing prompt request: buck/bucky or rosielemmons & domesticity - muse a rests chin on muse b’s shoulder to read/see what they’re holding

congrats on ur fic !! 💕 /solittles

this is so old but thak youuu ee

sorry i wrote them slow dancing im in a fluffy mood

if you were the only girl in the world

"sometimes when I feel bad, and things look blue..."

Gale taps his pencil against the paper in front of him and tries to decide if this was a sad song.

"I wish a girl I had… say one like you. Someone within my heart to build a throne"

He's sat on the sofa, feet tucked up underneath him like a child and trying to headache himself through the sort of mathematical problems that left even him feeling stupid. Bucky's supposed to be in the kitchen cooking a roast, but Gale isn't sure how much singing a slab of beef really needs in the cooking process. He's been banned, regardless of the signing, because the mess John left behind every time he cooked left Gale twitchy and irritable. He doesn't think it's hard to clean as one goes, but John thought it was faster to do it all at once.

"And what if you need something that's dirty?"

"Then I'll wash that one."

The singing draws nearer, bringing with it the smell of woodsy cologne and cigarettes.

"If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy," John croons.

Gale looks up to find him leaning in the doorway, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and hair flopping out of its careful gel from steam. He looked good, looked healthy and whole and Gale thinks maybe five years out they were getting somewhere close to okay.

He recognizes the song now, an old Great War ditty that he'd heard crooned from open saloons and bars as a child.

"Bucky," He sighs, hunching over his work defensively, "I told you I'm all yours after supper."

John smiles at him, sweet and broad and eye-crinkling guileless and Gale isn't fooled by the beast underneath for a single second.

"Nothing-" He slides around the sofa and holds a hand out for Gale to take with a challenging smirk, "-else would matter in the world today, we would go on loving in the same old way."

His voice was still awful, but when it was less quiet and booming there was almost a melody to it, something Gale found pleasant if he were pressed to admit. Maybe it was rose-colored affection, maybe John just loved him enough to make the words sound good.

Gale takes John's hand but he makes sure to sigh at him enough to show his reluctance but John presses a bristly kiss to his cheek on the tug up and places his hand at a respectful spot on his waist and gets them swaying.

"A garden of Eden, just made for two," John says, leading him around their small living room, "with nothing to mar our joy."

Sometimes they bicker about it with their hands and their steps, who was leading. Nothing beyond playful, but they were both pilots both left-seaters and giving up the yoke wasn't something they did without good reason. But tonight Gale is content to give it over to John, starving for any moment where the other man's eyes were bright and clear and present. Better every year.

"I would say such wonderful things to you, there would be such wonderful things to do."

John gives over the lead to him, passing it off flawlessly and Gale sways them as John nuzzles his way into his shoulder.

"If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy."

"Think those guys on base know you're such a softie?" Gale asks.

John scoffs, pulling back and freeing Gale back to his seat, "They think I'm somewhere between God and Captain America himself. I don't think it's even crossed their minds."

Gale hums, adjusts himself as John wraps arms around his waist, chin hooking over his shoulder to peer down at the paper.

"It's done wonders to heal your issue with humility"

"mm," John's lips press against his neck, "You're off by two numbers."

Gale pauses and then squints, curving his mouth into a crooked smile.

"So I am."