#never thought i'd write them again but here i am

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

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[zombie-honeymoon]

Summary:

Hidan wants to have a pity party at home after getting dumped, and Deidara makes the mistake of inviting him to his art class. It goes about as well as anyone would expect, and to top it off, Hidan discovers some drawings that Deidara would have preferred to stay secret...

[silvcrpanthera]

sherrystirred: To the one and only who holds my heart. People used to see me through glasses of grandeur, someone unreachable and so awfully sordid at the same time, and perhaps, they were right to an extent and for the longest time I’d thought it was all I was and would ever be — until you came with a picture. I suppose the universe works in the strangest ways, don’t you think? Putting us together, the two people who have been judged by others because of our outer appearances, as if we were standing before a thin glass and we were left for them to either idealize or ridicule. And yet, we were put together, all of those things thrown aside and we bonded with our deepest viscerality — you are beautiful inside and outside, my darling, but when we spoke through that wall separating us, my thoughts were immediately enticed by yours. How you spoke of your ambition and dreams with so much fervor and encouraged me to do just the same. How you would always be so patient and thoughtful of my mind instead of my looks. I remember how easy it was to talk to you, like a human being, and the one falling in love at that. Although we might have encountered hassles later and unfortunate losses — I don’t think when it comes to us, there is not a single thing that I regret. I was the happiest when we wed for the first time, the saddest when we had to bury the innocent hands that sought for us, and now I am the most delighted to be able to twine my life completely with yours again.

I spent months, weeks, and seconds growing more and more eager for this day, and after we exchanged our vows it is easy to say that this occasion is even better than the first one. It has always been you whom I pictured standing on the other side of the altar. I know you at times find that hard to believe, but I had never once ever dared to glance at another when it came to love, despite my noxious way of coping, it was always you who I wanted to see again. You often tell me you don’t think you’re good enough, but Ducky, hun, you’re everything and more to me. Your laughter spreads joy to my soul, the one that I thought had passed alongside our son, your happiness and struggle coat my life like a blanket. I care not for how hard things could be, we have gone through all of those together, and with the abundance of love that I have for you — I will do it all over again without even a second thought. I will forsake all of those ridiculous desires in order to be with you, and you only. You are that special to me, and there is no other person that can in the slighest cause me to feel this yearning yet at the exact same time utterly safe.

Everything about this union was perfect. I had thought I would be so composed and yet there I was, an emotional mess over and over, though I suppose that is understandable after everything that we had to go through. I am happy. I can say that with the most sincerity now, outloud, and it would not have been possible if it were not for you. I was a wrecked pile of shit who had thought I’d never be able to get a second chance to be the person that I had been before the shit hit the fan and yet here we are. We have gone through the impossible both as an individual and as a pair, but know that all of this would not have been plausible without you and your encouragement. It was amazing to see everyone here, and I had to keep glancing at our newest baby, and I noticed how entranced he was by everything surrounding him. It felt like I was in cloud nine, and I know, wedding ceremony or not, I will be able to continue to feel that way from this point onward. The biggest storms could happen to us and I can say with the utmost confidence that none would change the joy that I feel when I’m around the two of you. I am looking forward to all of our days spent ahead together — to wake up to the sound of your tranquil breathing and call you my spouse, without an ounce of hesitation. To raise our child together again, and memorize the times that we had with the one that we lost together. We had been broken into pieces before, but we have, somehow, managed to bring them back together and I couldn’t have been happier.

I love you, deeply, and endlessly. My love spanned through an abundance of years, and has never once faltered. Here’s to our wedding, and to all of the magnificent days together, my lovely star-seeker. 

@drvgonbvnny​

[thewaragainstapathy]

I’m dead-set on finishing this (currently untitled) ROTTMNT post-movie fic, but I could use some friends to bounce around ideas. In the meantime please enjoy some of chapter 1. (And I’m not kidding about bouncing around ideas. PM me if you’re interested, I need some COMMUNITY!)

******

Reggie was no conspiracy nut, but there were two things she firmly believed: aliens existed, and mutants were a thing. 

The invasion proved her right about the aliens. She had officially won the bet with her sister, but there was no time to gloat when she was running for her life. In fact, at the rate she was going, Reggie doubted she’d survive long enough to collect. 

These alien fuckers were scarier than anything from the movies. Within minutes they’d pushed back the National Guard, corrupted the human weaponry, and used it to demolish her neighborhood. Helicopters with teeth were sure to star in her nightmares, assuming she lived long enough to sleep again. 

Reggie had kept up with the screaming masses for a while. As fires raged and smoke choked her lungs, however, she’d been forced to take cover long enough to find her inhaler. In the time it took her to get her breathing under control all the stragglers left her behind. 

She was alone, and more scared than she’d ever been in her life. 

Reggie had run for seven more blocks before she had to stop again. Most of the buildings around her were in ruins, but the fires were downwind and she’d found a dumpster to hide behind in a stable-ish alley. It would have to do until she could catch her breath. 

There were still no other people around—a bad sign for sure—but there were no immediate threats, either. Reggie took another puff from her inhaler and risked a moment to find her water bottle. She couldn’t drink much; she only had half a bottle left, and she’d bet her salary that the water lines were down. She’d have to take a sip or two and keep moving. 

Then the light show started, and moving was out of the question.

Reggie watched with terror-laced awe as a Michael Bay-worthy sci-fi battle raged before her eyes. Gold chains of fire, purple rockets, and blue portals of light zipped through the air, working in tandem with a red-lit giant. Debris was still falling, but most of it was over the water now, so she did the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do during a disaster.

She pulled out her phone and started filming.

Monique, you are not gonna believe this.

All things considered, Reggie had a good angle. She saw the red giant—which she could swear was a turtle—fall and crash-land across the bay. She saw the explosion as the spaceship was cut in half, and ducked behind the dumpster as the blast wave rushed past. 

And she saw a katana, still glowing blue, fall from the sky to land in the street.

Within five minutes it was over.  

She hit stop and wondered what the hell she should do now. 

*****

Casey had never felt more lost in his life. 

They’d saved the world, right? He’d done what Master Leonardo had told him to do. He’d found the key. He’d stopped the Krang. 

But now he was here, in this strange world he didn’t recognize, with a family that was so familiar but wasn’t his, and after everything they’d done? Everything his masters had sacrificed to get him here? 

He’d still lost Master Leonardo.

No. Not Master Leonardo. Not my sensei. Just… just Leo.

Did that make it better, or worse? Either way Casey wanted to cry, but he couldn’t give in to grief, not yet. Not while the Sister Krang was still a threat. He could mourn after she was dealt with. Until then he would tamp down his feelings like the soldier he was.

But then… then he saw Leo’s katana, fallen just like his master. 

His hockey stick fell to the ground with a clatter.

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[mysillycomics]

Hi everyone! This is Claire. I am writing to let you all know that we did it. We saved Bailey and Tiger Fluff, and we all live together in an apartment in Illinois, my home state. We really, really did it!!!

You can read our thanks, thoughts, and more under the read more :0)

(note: Oliver also goes by Bailey! She has two names.)

There are many important people on this journey that we would like to specifically thank.

First, all of our friends (especially Peregrine, Sophie, and Jackson) who were there on the day Bailey was evicted, who listened to me and helped me figure out what to do when I felt more lost than I’ve ever been. Without them we wouldn’t have been able to act so quickly and efficiently. Because of them, we were able to formulate a plan.

Speaking of Jackson, he and his partner Cherri need to be thanked once again. Jackson drove all the way from his home, Bailey’s motel, and back to get both her and Tiger to a place to stay while we figured out what to do next. They provided a warm, quiet, and safe place for both of them in a time when something like that was so far away. For the first time in a long time, I knew that Bailey was truly somewhere safe. For that, we will be forever grateful.

While we do not have their names, we would like to thank the staff of the airport and airline who helped make this journey objectively possible. They also made Tiger into a little celebrity on the flight, and everyone, including the pilot, went to greet her and congratulate her for being so brave. She really is the bravest little kitty we know.

Next are my very close friends Elle and Callan, who invited Bailey and Tiger to stay at their house not far from mine while we secured a place of our own. They, like Jackson and Cherri, gave both of them the space to simply be. I was able to visit a couple of times, and being with my favorite people made an extremely difficult time so much better. It made me think “this feeling is what we are fighting for”.

Finally, we’d like to thank you.

To all of you who read and shared our story, you helped us to feel seen and heard and not alone. Reading words of support in the comments, quote retweets, and tumblr tags truly made me feel like we could do this with everyone cheering us on.

To everyone who donated, your generosity this financially possible. As of writing, we received $19,381 from the GoFundMe. We are now able to use the rest of funds that have been tucked away in savings for rent, food, and bills. I cannot overstate how grateful we both are. What you did for us will never leave our hearts.

…

While Bailey and Fluffy were at Elle and Callan’s, we found an apartment. It was small, but perfect. We toured. We applied. And we got it.

And on December 9th, 2023, we moved in and started living together! Our goal, our dream, our driving force for so long was achieved. After three years of long distance, we finally made it.

Our home is small, and has some quirks as all homes do, but it’s ours. The love of my life, the best little cat in the word, and I are all together. We are safe, warm, happy, and loved. The future we fought so hard for us now the present. Forgive me for being long-winded. I just have so much to say about all of this! Sometimes I still can’t believe that we actually did it. But we did, we really did!!!

I’m going to keep the GoFundMe up for a little bit, but once things settle more I will close donations.

Thank you!!!!!!!!! 🧸💕

____

Hey everyone Bailey here, I cannot overstate just how grateful I am to every single one of you and how thankful I am that this journey has been able to come into fruition. It was very scary being in that motel not having a plan or knowing what I was gonna do next while everything was crumbling around me. If it wasn't for Claire and our incredibly kind and caring friends I don't know what I'd do. They helped me press on and get through this with Fluff and we finally did.

Finally we're in a place that brings nothing but peace and comfort, my anxiety has dropped and I'm doing things I've never thought possible and building up strengths I never knew I had, I feel whole in a way that I've never felt before and I'm just, happy.

I am so grateful to have Claire, for years she's been so supportive and comforting and has brought this dream we've had into reality and every day I am so thankful to have her, she is the love of my life and my best friend. The life that her, myself and Fluff now share will forever be together and we can finally begin living. 💚💜

Thank you everyone, thank you to our friends who let Fluff and I into their lives to be able to be safe while we get our bearings, thank you to everyone who said such kind and wonderfully compassionate words, cheering us on as we go, every day I was looking at the community post I made on YT and it was just filled with people being so supportive, and thank you everyone who donated and got us into where we are. We could not have done it without all of you. 🐟 ❤️ 🐟 ❤️

[meetmyothersouls]

Write a Timmy smut to celebrate 2K!!

Been thinking this up throughout today :)

Five in Five

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk

It's around 2:45 am when the heat from Timothee's body wakes you. You untangle your legs from his and slide your arm from underneath his neck wondering how a man so lean can produce that much body heat. He groans softly in his sleep, and you wait until he's turned over to get up and go to the bathroom. You're sure that if he sees you creeping out of his bedroom, your only chance to go to pee will be blown.

You tip toe out of his room, leaving the door open for easy access when you return and as you cross the hall for the bathroom, your eyes wander downstairs to his front doors. They're massive double doors made of dark oak standing at least fifteen feet high. For a second, you think of leaving, like you always do. You never stay the night with Timothee...well not a full night. Having sex with him and leaving once he falls asleep was just a thing you guys did. You've always left, ever since he took your virginity in a vacant Marriot hotel room during the 11th grade La Guardia field trip to Los Angeles. It wasn't until years later, you realized Timothee wanted more than that. And it's not that you don't want to be his girlfriend...it's just that being his girlfriend could mean losing him completely if things turned shitty. Losing him as a boyfriend would suck. Losing him as a friend...you weren't sure you could handle. So, you always stuck to this. Sex. Great sex. Sex that you'd only be able to get with someone that loves you just as much as you love them. You sleep with him; you tell him how much you love him-because you do-and you leave when he falls asleep. He's never mad, he's never upset (that you can see and the thought of that gnaws at you constantly) and he never brings it up when you see him again.

Until a few hours ago.

You think about it as you remove your gaze from his front door and tip toe into the bathroom. You never thought he'd convince you to stay the night, but here you are peeing in his overly expensive, self-cleaning toilet and washing your hands with $60 hand soap that smells like vanilla and lavender. You drag a hand over your face as you make your way back out, avoiding the temptation of the front door this time on your way back to his room.

The door is open the way you left it, and you walk softly into his room, jolting a little when you see Timothee sitting up in the bed. He's got his thin, white sheet draped over his naked bottom half and even though he looks half asleep, he also looks sad. Your heart breaks a little as you realize this is what he looks like when he wakes up and you aren't there.

"Relax," you whisper "I'm still here." You crawl back into Timothee's bed, climbing over his body to get back to your favorite spot on his mattress. "I told you I'd stay," you tease him in a whisper and kiss his shoulder.

Timothee relaxes a little, laying back down, holding his arm out for you to cuddle into him.

"Would it be so bad?" he asks after a few moments of silence. You thought he'd fallen back asleep, but he must have been thinking.

"What?" you answer.

"Being my girlfriend."

"Timothee-"

"No seriously, what would be so bad about it? You're used to fame, so that wouldn't be an adjustment for you. We both have crazy schedules, so you wouldn't have to worry about one of us being busier than the other. And I know everything about you, y/n. Everything."

You laugh at his confidence. He definitely knows everything about you. You'd been sleeping with him for twelve years and been friends for longer. But you weren't going to let him think he knows everything. "You don't know shit, Chalamet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, though it's cute that you think you do."

Timothee turns over on his side, facing you. He gives you a quick kiss that instantly turns into a deeper one. You whine when he pulls away, wanting his tongue in your mouth. He's close still, his lips grazing yours occasionally when he talks. "I know everything about you, y/n. Platonically, sexually, mentally. I know everything."

You study his face for a moment. He looks quite sure of himself. "Okay then," you say "five facts about me that no one else knows in five minutes."

"Easy."

"Go on then."

"Number one, I know that if I drag my fingertips across your back" Timothee slides his hands under the back of your shirt, demonstrating his words. "I can have you asleep in less than ten minutes."

You roll your eyes, knowing it's true. He's gotten you to sleep that way many times before.

"Four more, tick tock," you tease him.

"Number two, I know how much anxiety ordering food gives you, so I know your order at every restaurant we've ever been to, so you don't even have to say anything."

His fingers are still tracing lines up and down your back and it takes everything in you not to close your eyes against him.

"Number three, I know that if I kiss your neck right here" Timothee demonstrates his words again, placing the softest kiss to the side of your neck. "I can have you ready for sex almost instantly."

"Ugh, fuck off, Timothee."

He's right again.

You're pretty sure he takes two extra minutes just kissing your neck, the fucker, and you let him because it feels so good.

"Number four, I know that" he pulls you on top of him so that you're straddling his waist "when you're riding my dick, I have to hold your right here because it feels so good, they shake." Timothee's hands grip your thighs, his long fingers indenting the skin on your legs.

"Number five, I know that if I suck one of your nipples into my mouth" He removes a hand from your thigh and removes your shirt. Immediately, he uses his index finger to circle one of your nipples. It hardens instantly at his teasing and peppers your skin in chills "I can get you to do whatever the fuck I want."

You're silent for a minute, feeling his hard dick under you. You contemplate holding it and sliding down onto it but decide to show him he's not the only one who knows everything about the other.

"How'd I do?" Timothee asks.

"Not bad," you admit. You tease his cock with your pussy, sliding him through your wet folds. "But now it's my turn."

"Can I fuck you first?"

"No, Timmy, you can't."

Timothee groans, pressing his erection against your heat.

"You know, you can't call me 'Timmy' and not let me fuck you."

You smile knowingly, satisfied in the use of a secret weapon you learned about not too long ago while having dinner in a very public setting.

"Patience is a virtue, Timothee. Anywho, Number one, I know that when I whisper in your ear, it gives you these cute little chills all over your skin." You lean forward letting your folds slide across his hard dick again. Timothee groans softly through gritted teeth, shaking his head slowly at you. "Like this," you whisper once you're inches from his ear and like you said, you feel his skin prickle with chills. You run your hands over his arms, still gripping your thighs just the way you like, attempting to erase some of the chills you created with your warmth.

"Skip the rest and let me fuck you, y/n," Timothee begs.

"But I've got four more," you pout.

Timothee groans again, pushing his dick against you.

"Number two, I know tha-"

Your words catch in your throat as Timothee shifts on his bed, flipping you onto your back. His knees nudge your legs open, and he runs his nose along your neck until he finds the spot that makes you weak. He kisses it lightly before sucking the skin into his mouth.

"Give it up, y/n. You know it's me you think about when someone else is trying...and failing...to make you come. You know it's me you've been talking yourself out of for years. Over a decade worth of depriving yourself of the one thing you know you need the most. Why? I'm right here and I'm entirely yours. Take me."

Your eyes bounce back and forth between his, until your lips crash into each other's. Tongues winding and twisting fighting for dominance. You love him. You always have and there is no escaping him. There never will be. Timothee breaks your heated kiss and begins lining his way down to your breasts in kisses. He licks around your nipple once he's reached his destination, then suck it into his mouth. And just like he said, in that moment, you're willing to do whatever he wants.

"Be mine and no others," he says to you in between kisses to your soft skin.

"Whatever you want," you say breathlessly.

"No. Say it. Say you'll be mine and mine alone."

Timothee slides a finger along your folds of your pussy, gently pressing a finger inside to you see if you're ready for him. When he decides your wet enough, he lines himself up with you entrance. You're bracing for him; your legs are wide open and waiting but so is he.

"Y/n."

"You can't leave me when things get hard. You can't give up on us, because I can't lose you, Timothee. If I tell you yes, then this is it."

"That's all I've ever wanted."

"I mean it; you can't leave me."

"Y/n," Timothee said, as he pushed all the way inside of you, "I'd never dream of leaving you."

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you. (Part 2)

hello hello! here is part 2 as promised. there are less characters than I hoped to write, but in exchange each blurb is a little longer than pt.1 !

part 1 can be found here

🦌🪼🤡🦎🪞🤕🕯️🎭

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🦌 Bane rubs his chin, tracing his memory. "Hm... Indeed, I'm familiar with that name. I'd suppose that's someone I knew when I worked for the DeRosses." He crosses his arms with a low, contemplative grunt, as if struggling to remember anything else. "I'd need a photograph." I happen to have a couple on hand, and he takes them gently. A long period of silence follows. After leafing through the photos for some time, he says: "I remember. They were always talking about marriage." With you? "Mm. I was never interested, but I never said no. Eventually I made them a ring from a scrap of iron. I hoped they'd stop visiting me if I satisfied them... It's too dangerous to come to the forest everyday." Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring of his own. "In exchange, they gave one back." He's been cherishing it all this time, even when he'd forgotten its origin.

🪼 Ivy - "I'm no stranger to feeling like I'm missing my other half, you know. That sense of loss is one of the only constants I have left. (Y/N) fills my emptiness, and without them it increases twofold." I open my mouth to ask, Do you think you could be soulmates? but then my eyes dart to the Yithian and I realize my mistake. Sorry, was that insensitive? Ivy is not amused with my implication that she might be interested in claiming (Y/N)'s soul. "My dear interviewer, I am a scholar, not a monster. Whatever you're insinuating, you're gravely mistaken."

🤡 Joker's face suddenly hardens, in spite of the fragile, twiddling-thumbs demeanor he'd shown me thus far. His hands ball into shaking fists and his lips purse, as if he's psyching himself up for a fight. Are you okay? I ask, preemptively guarding myself with my clipboard. Tears brim his eyes and the strength falls from his shoulders. He mutters out, "All I wanted was to be their sword and shield, their angel of light, and they left me out of my mind. Hahaha... Wanna know the biggest joke of all? I'd let them drive me crazy all over again."

🦎 Luchino's mouth stretches into a lazy grin. "That one's a cutie, eh? Had the pleasure of meeting them yet?" I shake my head, reminding him that (Y/N) is the focus of my current investigation. I guess his laidback attitude fooled me into saying too much. He promptly straightens his back, the smile fading. "Yeah... Yeah, from one researcher to another, I get the intrigue," he says. "But I can't say I fancy another guy using my love as a test subject."

🪞 Mary - "Do you take pleasure in nosing around a lady's private affairs? I'd expect more tact, even for an interviewer." The chill in her tone startles me. I sputter out something in my defense, but Mary huffs and waves me into silence. "(Y/N) is enjoying the privilege of being my right-hand. They're my favorite one so far, too. I dismissed the others without a second thought."

🤕 Naib - "On good terms." Wringing out any insightful answers from this man is tougher than I thought. In hopes of inspiring more of a reaction, I tell a small lie: When I interviewed (Y/N), they described a rather colorful affection for you... Almost immediately, Naib breaks eye contact and crosses his arms. But I still only get a guttural "Hm." in response. Can you confirm if this is true? I press. His answer is, once again, a curt "Hm." (Slightly more affirmative, I would say).

🕯️ Philippe - "My work has always stood as a testament to my love," he caresses the wax figure grafted onto his shoulder, "but shielding someone in life is a far greater challenge than honoring my losses. My worries are endless." Suddenly reminded of his sister's tragedy, I offer a sympathetic smile. Do you believe (Y/N) is in danger? Philippe returns my smile, though I can't make out the intent. "Of course. Evil lurks around every corner. At the very least, it won't reach them while I'm around."

🎭 Sangria - A fond smile graces her face as she recounts her memory. "It was clear to me after some time that I had disastrously entranced them." Then she adds, lightly, "I hadn't meant to, of course. At the time, I thought, I'm not looking for love—no, I'd had enough of it all—but soon, their smile would appear in my mind every time I sang. When someone gives you that much inspiration? You'd be a fool to let them go." She has a playful tone of voice, but I can tell (Y/N) means a great deal to her.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! Absolutely love your writing :) Would you be willing to do a enemies to lovers but with hero x villain? Maybe with like a controlling villain and the hero secretly likes it but is defiant externally? Sorry idk if that made sense lol

Thank you in advance though if you're able to!

"You can't just keep crashing my dates."

The villain glanced over their shoulder, raising an eyebrow in a mimicry of an emotion that didn't quite reach their eyes. "No?"

"No." The hero stalked closer, stopping in front of the villain, in time for them to turn. "I'm not yours."

"No?"

"No!" The hero's heart gave a little skip, at the possibility that the villain would then look at them and then say (in a growl, or devastatingly matter-of-fact, or in a teasing purr) 'yes, you are' or 'you're most certainly mine'. The villain had done it before.

The villain tilted their head, offering the hero one of the two glasses of wine they had just poured.

The hero took it, anticipating.

The villain didn't say anything, simply watching them as they took a steady sip.

The hero's face burned but they refused, stubbornly, to look away.

The villain set their glass down on the counter behind them. No rush.

The hero imagined the villain grabbing them, kissing them, as they had done before too. Twirling them, glass flying and wine sloshing, and pressing them up against the nearest flat surface. They would change every no to yes and please and more.

They both knew the routine, the dance of it. It didn't need saying.

"Your dates look increasingly like me," the villain murmured. "Have you noticed?" Their hands stayed, agonisingly, at their sides, as they leaned lazy against the counter.

The hero blinked, not expecting the comment. They took a sip of the wine instead of replying, hoping that perhaps an equally steady silence might come across as cool and mysterious instead of flabbergasted.

The villain smiled. "Say please."

"W-what?"

"Say please if you want me to screw your pretty brains out until you can't think straight."

The hero spluttered. "That's not - I'm not - that's not why I'm here." They undoubtedly would say please, but it had never been so close to the start, so when there wasn't any excuse they could possibly give for the desperate needing of it.

"No?"

"No." The hero swallowed.

"So you don't go on your little dates just to wind me up?" The villain finally straightened, taking a step closer.

The hero stepped back, but didn't run, didn't want to. Mesmerised. Their mouth felt very dry. "No." Such a lie.

The villain's smile grew. "You don't secretly wish I'd kiss you, claim you, in front of all of them?"

"No." The hero jutted their chin up. "I'm not a thing to be claimed."

The villain advanced; the hero back-tracked.

"You don't," the villain continued, a honeyed murmur, "say no, because you love all the ways I can persuade you. Because then you can pretend you don't want this. Because you like watching me take control of you."

The hero's back hit the wall. Miraculously, the wine didn't spill, still clutched uselessly in one hand.

"No."

"Mm." The villain set their palms on either side of the hero's shoulders, and the hero felt the very air between them might start vibrating with the urge to close the gap. "Perhaps I'll never crash one of your dates again then."

The thought was unbearable. The villain was bluffing, right? They had to be bluffing.

The hero wet their lips. The villain's gaze dropped to follow the movement, then flicked back up to the hero's eyes.

"You're a bastard," the hero whispered, because it was true and it wasn't no.

"Why yes," the villain's eyes gleamed, "I am." They waited.

The hero's stomach squirmed. "Are you actually going to make me say it?"

"I thought I didn't control you. I thought you weren't mine."

The hero shivered.

"So how could I," the villain leaned in to the hero's ear, still not quite touching, "possibly make you do anything?"

"...please."

"What was that, love?"

"I hate you."

"Do you?" The villain's lips finally pressed against their skin, kissing down their neck.

"Yes. So much." The hero's head fell back, offering more of their throat. The wine glass drooped in their hand.

"Don't spill on my floor."

The wine glass righted with titan concentration. There was nowhere to put it down.

The villain kissed them; soft, so soft, a promise of so much more to come.

"Would you like me to stop?" the villain asked against their lips.

"...no."

"No?"

"No."

The villain hummed and kissed them again, a little harder. The wine glass wobbled treacherously in the hero's hand once more. The hero's other hand clutched the villain's shoulder.

"I think we're done with the stage in our relationship where you pretend to date other people," the villain said, when they pulled back, breathless. They caught the hero's chin, and their stare was, for a moment, serious.

The hero scrambled past the kiss-drunk haze, brow furrowing. "It's actually bothering you?"

"No," the villain said, in the same tone that the hero said no, meaning yes.

"Okay." The hero leaned in to kiss them, just once, reassuring.

Tension eased out of the villain's shoulders. The wicked playfulness returned, and they shoved the hero back against the wall again. The next kiss was a consuming, hungry thing, and the hero could only chase after more than they were given, gasping.

The villain nipped the hero's neck, before giving a chiding click of their tongue. It once again sent an anticipatory shiver of delight down the hero's spine.

"Oh, would you look at that," the villain said, with soft and bewitching menace. "You spilled my wine. However shall I make you pay me back for that?"

"Make me?" The hero bit their lip. "You think you can make me do anything? Please."

The villain grinned.

There were no more dates with other people after that.

[thechekhov]

Hello! I'm a big fan of your work. I wanted to ask for advice / thoughts about an art problem I've been struggling with that you seem to have at least some sort of solution for?

So basically I'm an animator and digital artist (hobbyist), and I'm constantly coming up with new ideas for things to make. Only problem is that most of these ideas would take up to or longer than 2 months to make because, yknow, animation isn't quick, especially if you want to take your time to make it good. But with so many ideas that all take so long to complete, I often find myself tied and frozen as I can't decide what's most worthwhile to start first. I passionately want to complete all these projects, but my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control, and I've just been stuck for several months. You juggle a lot of projects- not all of them art, but it still seems applicable here. This is excluding other life responsibilities like work and stuff, I don't have problems with getting that stuff done. This is purely within my creative hobby.

If u can't say anything thats fine I'm just curious- You have a massive output with great quality. Thank you!

This is a very kind message, and one that humbles me a lot, because although I'd love to bestow upon you some sort of advice that might help, or give words of wisdom..............I feel like that would be fake of me because

I also suffer from this very same thing

That is to say, this part of your message:

my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control

It rings true for me too! I think it might ring true for many others as well.

There are stories in my head all the time. There are stories, and concepts, and IDEAS and they are all so shiny and new in the beginning, and then they slowly peter out and, since I frequently don't have time to do anything about them, they fade into the background.

I have enough trouble with this in terms of COMICS (also a lengthy medium, though less so than animation, which, OOF, you have my condolences, you are stronger than I) that I have started to just come to terms with the fact that some things are not meant to be.

Which is, I think, one of the small bits of advice I can give.

1. Some things may just be ideas, and that's okay.

I think one of the best ways that I've learned to deal with Idea-Death is making it count towards something in the future. That is to say, using them as compost.

In order for this to work, you have to actively put your ideas into the compost pin instead of the trash. That means maybe investing in either a notebook, or a sketchbook, OR just a discord server for yourself where you organize ideas and dump them all into a channel to scroll back through later.

It may seem useless at first, but honestly, it can be satisfying to PUT them somewhere instead of letting them fade away.

Plus, you may one day scroll through them and rediscover an idea at just the right time. OR you may be inspired to take parts of an old idea and repurpose it for a new idea that you DO have motivation for.

However, there's also this part, right?

I've just been stuck for several months

I.......feel this. Sometimes I, too, feel stuck for several months. There are times when even if I WANT to work on something, I just don't have the time. It takes too long to finish!

.........which is why I recommend the following:

2. Don't finish. Just start.

Now, this is the toughie. I can't exactly say that it would work for everyone. But I have learned that I am WAY more likely to return to a project and work on it again sometime in the future if I actually DO something for it the first time I get inspired.

I have SO MANY things that I have not published in my folders. I have sketches of gifs that are 10 frames long. I have concept art sketches boldly labeled with project names that will likely never get off the ground. I have Googledoc files with summary and plot outlines for stories I'll probably never write. I have discord channels with random ass concepts and a few sketches for characters.

And what I have found is that if I just WORK on these ideas when I feel like it, they are more likely to survive, even if they don't thrive right away.

I'm also a huge proponent of Procrastination Rotation.

That is to say, I have so many projects I COULD be working on, that if I ever feel frustrated or stuck on one thing, I just shift myself slightly to the left and do another thing instead. I almost never force myself to work through a block (save for a few money-motivated deadlines) just to complete a thing.

Stuck on a comic? I'll go write a few lines of fic. Unsatisfied with where the fic is going?

I'll go sketch out an illustration. Incapable of finishing an illustration?

I'll go google some references for another comic project and slap them all into an image file for later, so that I have SOMETHING in place for when I want to do studies.

And so on and so forth.

I have comic ideas, and comic sketches, and 30+ pages of original comics sketched. I don't know if they'll make it. It would take a lot of work.

But it also takes very little work - just a few extra pages sketched while I'm bored for an hour. Or a bit of lineart while I listen to a podcast. Or just a doodle somewhere which I snap a pic of and add to my discord channel for that project.

Will it work for everyone? Probably not. But I think that our creative culture is sometimes too attached to a linear production style. The truth is that art, or illustrations, or animation, or comics - none of it has to be on an assembly line. It can be tinkered with and put aside. And then, maybe, picked apart for scraps.........or maybe made into something new!

I don't know if that helps you at all, but I hope it at least helps someone.

And good luck with your animating!

[whoiseduardito]

Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.

Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.

I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.

HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.

so maybe you have a type.

older guys who have the humor of a rock.

...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.

maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.

you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!

for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.

so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?

"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"

the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.

it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.

your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.

"uhh-"

"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's

"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.

"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."

damn. "well?"

"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."

"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"

the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.

"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.

"why?" you whispered

he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"

oh, your mood had soured

"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have

"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."

"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."

you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you

"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."

his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."

you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.

he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.

the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.

he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'

"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."

"i am aware, mister magneto."

"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"

"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.

"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."

"but-"

"are you aware?"

"yes, but-"

"then why are you pampering them?"

ouch

"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"

"what?"

"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."

you're screwed

"your mutation, am i right?"

"sir-"

"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."

"...what?"

"you and me, are going to train them."

"uhm.... who?"

he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."

great! teaching with magneto.

"...you sure sir?"

"i am sure."

breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.

many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.

"teach'?"

"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"

"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."

"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.

"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree

"why?" they shrugged

"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction

"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"

"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed

"oh, stop lying." you snorted

"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"

"shut up!" you laughed

"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away

"wha?-"

"miss l/n?"

oh shit.

"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.

"mister lehnsherr!-"

"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack' Part V - The Fault Is Ours

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you... Word count: 13.7k

Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play

Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE

Author's Note: My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!

***~~~***

 “I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”

Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.

It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.

You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.

With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.

Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.

Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…

Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.

Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.

Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”

“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”

Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”

The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.

Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.

“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.

He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.

Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“For upsetting you both.”

“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”

You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…

You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”

Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”

You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”

“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”

You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”

Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”

“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”

An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”

You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”

“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”

Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”

Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”

You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”

Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”

“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”

With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”

It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.

“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.

Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”

Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.

You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”

Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.

“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”

***~~~***

You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.

It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.

You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.

You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.

What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.

Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.

“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.

The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.

“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.

“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.

“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.

Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”

Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”

The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…

Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.

A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.

“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.

Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”

Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.

Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.

Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”

A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.

“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”

“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”

Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”

Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.

They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?

You knew your answer: Absolutely.

The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.

“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.

“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”

You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…

“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.

“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”

The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.

“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”

“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”

The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…

Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”

“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”

“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”

“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”

Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.

Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.

Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”

Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”

You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”

“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”

Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.

“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”

Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.

“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.

With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.

Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.

Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.

You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”

Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.

“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.

His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”

“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.

This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.

Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”

“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.

You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.

Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.

The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.

You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…

Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.

You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…

Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.

A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”

Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.

Wrong brother. Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”

Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”

“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.

A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”

***~~~***

A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.

Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.

Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.

The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.

Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.

“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.

Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.

Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.

Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.

“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”

Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…

“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.

“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”

“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”

“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.

“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.

“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”

Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.

When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”

An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he’d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.

“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.

“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”

Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.

“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”

With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”

***~~~***

You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.

You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.

Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.

You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.

Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.

As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.

The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.

You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.

“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.

Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...

Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.

Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.

Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!

“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”

“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.

You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”

“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”

The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.

Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…

Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”

He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.

Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.

“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”

Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”

Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”

The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.

“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”

His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.

“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”

You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.

“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”

“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”

“Me too!”

Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.

Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”

“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.

Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”

Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.

“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”

“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”

Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.

“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”

Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.

Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”

Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”

With a giggle, you agreed.

Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.

Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.

Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”

You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”

You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.

Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.

Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.

You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.

One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”

Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”

“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.

You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”

A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”

You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.

Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.

You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.

Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…

You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.

“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.

His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.

Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.

Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.

Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.

His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.

The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.

Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.

You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”

A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”

Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”

His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.

Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.

You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.

“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.

You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”

Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.

Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.

You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.

“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.

Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.

He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?”

“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”

You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…

When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”

You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”

His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.

“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”

Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”

You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”

Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”

Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”

Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.

“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.

You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.

“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.

Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.

Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.

Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…

The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.

It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.

The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.

Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.

“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”

Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”

“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”

You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.

“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.

You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”

He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”

Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”

His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”

There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.

A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.

You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.

Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”

***~~~***

You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.

Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.

More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.

The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”

Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…

Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!

Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”

Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”

A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.

Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”

Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.

Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”

Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”

“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.

Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”

You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”

Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”

Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.

All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.

Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”

You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.

Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”

And all was right with the world indeed…

Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘

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[madl-y]

✧. ┊— asking all the time (about what I should do)

3 times you and Togame ask another person for advice on what to do with your feelings (oblivious to the fact that said feelings are reciprocated), and the 1 time you asked each other instead.

sypnosis - You and Togame struggled on what to do with the realization that the both of you have feelings for each other. In result, some members of Furin and Shishitoren end up having to give advice. (Even though most of them suck at it.)

> this is f! reader, sorry for the gn readers out there.. also, beware of spelling and grammar mistakes :"D I am weak in vocab and just started writing again so I tend to repeat the same words and phrases and expressions so.. yeah :"c

> so uhh,, guess who got into windbreaker??!! (if you couldn't tell by the amount of reblogs of togame...)

> fluffy fluff! and some crack? hopefully not too ooc! :"D pls enjoy hihi :DD (sparkle banners were made by me.. they kinda suck)

> not proofread !!

1 - 3

TOGAME to SAKURA

"Haaah..?! W-Why would you think I'd–!"

If Togame wasn't feeling a dillema at the moment, he'd be teasing Sakura with the way he reacted so flustered by asking a simple advice on what he should do.

"Y-You crazy or something?! Do I look like I'm the type to..!" Sakura grumbled in irritation and helplessness as he flushed in embarrassment immensely at the way Togame mentioned how he wanted to date you.

For some reason, Togame decided Sakura was one of the people he should ask advice on how to ask you out.

"Hmm..? Have you never experienced having a crush?" Togame curiously stared at Sakura, tilting his head. Speaking and moving with his usual slowed tempo.

If Togame thought Sakura couldn't be more red in the face—

"H-HUH?! AND IF I HAVEN'T?!" Sakura banged his hands on the metal rail on the rooftop. Yelping and cursing in pain while the heat spread until his neck.

—clearly, Togame was wrong.

He chuckled at Sakura, "Aww, how pure." His grin turning to a slight smirk and dodged the incoming plastic wrapper aimed to his head.

"You wanna take this outside, bastard?!" The youngest growled in annoyance while pointing down to the open area of Shishitoren's base. While Sakura's threat was usually lighthearted, (even though he is ready to brawl), it wouldn't fool anybody with how embarrassed he is.

Togame brought a hand up to his neck as he thought of his situation with you. "Well, I've never felt this way before." He started, glancing away while staring at the sun that was slowly setting. An orange hue covered the sky which made the scenery much more beautiful.

You always love the view of the sky from the rooftops of Shishitoren.

Togame loves it too. But he prefers it if he's with you.

"Even the sky from here reminds me of her too. It feels so unfamiliar, but..." The marble of the ramune bottle clinks softly against the glass. Sakura felt another heat rise to his cheeks but kept quiet.

Togame smiled in thought, "I don't think I dislike it." He continued. Inhaling deeply before a frown slowly formed. Showing his usual nonchalant look that everyone is so familiar with but Sakura could see the emotions hidden in his eyes.

Togame's shoulder slumped in defeat, "I'm afraid I might say the wrong things again." His mind briefly flash to when Choji's eyes loose that sparkle.

He didn't want a repeat of that from Choji. They're getting better, Choji and him.

But he doesn't think he'll handle losing you unintentionally.

He heard Sakura click his tongue. "...I think you're just overthinking it."

Togame blinked slowly, his mouth parted slightly in surprise. Sakura, despite the flaming heat on his cheeks, shoved his hands in his pocket and continued. "If you really... l-like.. her.." Sakura cleared his throat, "t-then I don't you should have much of a problem in.. you know."

Togame watched in amusement as Sakura's hands flailed helplessly.

"You know..! Saying what you really wanna say or somethin'. You'd give your all in thinking about it, and the fact that you're worried.. I mean.." Sakura found it really hard to compose the proper words that he wanted to convey in his mind. He's doesn't have that flowery language like Suo does, or the straight forward but kind advice like Nirei.

He groaned in annoyance as he shaked his head and pointed at Togame. "You know what I mean!"

Sakura could feel steam blowing out of his ear from sheer want to crawl in a tunnel and never want to have this kind of conversation again.

"Plus, from what I know, she's a pretty understanding person. So.." Sakura sighed and gave Togame a shaky thumbs up while looking away.

"...Y-You got this.." Togame could see the redness in Sakura's ears. He smiled in appreciation.

"You really suck at giving advice, you know."

"Y-YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CALLED ME YOU BASTARD—!"

YOU to CHOJI

Out of all people you didn't expect to find out who you like—

"So it is Kame-chan! You like Kame-chan!! You're so obvious!" Choji grinned delightfully as he finally managed to make you indirectly confess who you have feelings for.

"You like Kame-chan! You like Kame-chan!" He bounced around you with his arms up in the air while giggling.

—you really, really, did not expect for Choji to actually be the first one to bring it up.

"Choji.." You sighed in exasperation.

Thankfully, Choji stopped going around in circles (literally) before sending you a sheepish smile. "I'm glad to know you're one of the people who really cares about him."

You thought the sun was bright, but damn Choji's smile is brighter that you couldn't help but smile back embarrassedly.

"I mean.. I do.." You scratched the back of your neck.

"Then you're gonna confess?!"

You dropped your water bottle in surprise. Choji watching as you jump in pain as the bottle hit your toes.

"I-! I don't know?!" You grimaced at the confusion in Choji's face. "Why not?" He tilt his head. A small pout forming on his lips.

"Because!" You flailed.

"Because?" Choji parroted.

"BECAUSE!" You stomp your foot in stubborness. Choji couldn't help but flinch at the sudden outburst, yet that grin of his stayed.

Silence ensued the two of you. You, looking off to the side as you crossed your arms, brows pinched together while your heart kept pounding loudly at the idea of merely confessing to Togame.

Choji, who still has that grin, yet displays a confused expression, a drop of sweat forming on back of his head.

He thinks that when it comes to you confessing, its no doubt that it's hopeless.

For now.

Choji sighed, deciding to take pity in you, and pat your back in condolences. He smiled reassuringly after meeting your eyes.

"I don't think you should be worrying too much." He says with full confidence, and usually that alone gets you to either calm down or feel better.

Instead, you felt your chest getting heavier, feeling dejected as your body seemed to subtly slumped over.

Of course, Choji still has that confusing smile.

"Easy for you to say.." You whined softly.

You heard a snicker beside you, whipping your head to his direction offendedly.

"Sorry, sorry!" The shorter one couldn't help but laugh, "It's just that, it is easy for me to say. I know Kame-chan well!"

You blinked at the sudden sparkles in his eyes as he grabbed you shoulders, "And I know you too! You're a wonderful person." He said sincerely.

Choji gave you one last pat in the shoulder and turned to go ahead where the members of Shishitoren were calling for him. He looked over his shoulder, giving you that smile that you always appreciated.

"Besides, knowing Kame-chan, everything will be alright!"

You watched dazedly as he hopped off joyfully to join his members.

"...That doesn't help!" You thought.

You prayed to whatever god out there, that Choji keeps his mouth shut and doesn't screw everything up.

2 - 3

YOU to KOTOHA

Again, you wondered how in the hell is it that you ended up being found out just from your emotions alone.

"SO IT IS LIKE THAT! Ha! You're such an open book, you know?"

The spoon in your hand that's filled with omurice starts to shake, some if the rice and eggs slightly splatter on the counter.

"HEY! I just cleaned that." Kotoha complained while you still had to process how Kotoha just knew from your expression alone.

"How did you even know?!" I whined while slamming the spoon on the plate.

Kotoha rolled her eyes, "Duh, who else, aside from Sakura, always wears their heart on their sleeves? Plus, you weren't subtle at all with all the 'what ifs' and, I quote 'just a hypothetical situation that relates to my friend' bullshit." She said, creating quotation marks in the air.

You've never felt this called out in your life.

You had to clench your chest with your hand as you felt like arrows just pierced right through them. Kotoha smirking at you as she placed a cup of water on the counter.

"Well, back on the matter at hand. You're asking if you should confess, right?" She sighed, bringing her hands up in her hair while removing her hairtie and leaned on the counter.

You felt her calculating gaze (she does that more often than you realize) while you felt so exposed and flustered.

"I mean, I really did not expect that someone, especially an outsider, managed to befriend Shishitoren's leader and second in command." You watch as Kotoha smiled before patting your head. "But again, it is you. I guess I was worried for nothing when you said who had a part time job in Shishitoren's turf."

"For the most part, I didn't expect it either." You sighed while midlessly picking around the plate. Ignoring the scolding from Kotoha as she noticed the way you put aside the carrots.

"But here's the real question, do you want to confess?"

You paused, the spoon in your hand went still as submerged in the omurice further. The question really got you thinking.

...It's only recently that you realized you like Togame.

You recalled breifly the way, right at the time you recently got a part-time job in Shishitoren's turf. Right when you were serving as a waiter, one of the customers acted so rudely in fron of you, yet you had to be professional.

It was then when Togame stepped in and settle things down. Well.. he did it rather threateningly.

Once you spotted him again on your way to your job, you thanked him by providing a huge discount, yet he declined it.

You were mesmerized with his smile as he assured you and was quick to decline. He was so much different than when he practically slammed the asshole on the table.

Just then, you got acquainted with Choji who soon frequented the restaurant you served in. He was surprised, yet delighted to know that Togame has "made a new friend!".

The three of you started hanging out.

The grip of your spoon tightened as you tried to calm yourself down. Feeling another wave of heat spread across your cheeks while also pondering on the question Kotoha asked.

Do you really...

You met Kotoha's eyes as she patiently waited for your answer.

You tried to imagine it, you confessing.

Togame and you talking about random things, the wind and the bright hues of the sunset you two were fascinated to look at settled over you two like a comfortable blanket at the rooftop of Shishitoren.

Togame handing over a bottle of ramune, opening it for you like always does.

And finally, you confess.

Your bring up how you appreciated him, and its not just a simple 'I appreciate you', no.

The way you tell him how you find joy whenever he remembers the little things that you brought up in past conversations. How you find yourself being calm whenever you look into his eyes, despite the chaos ringing in the battlefield he and Choji are in, because some guys can't handle the word no.

He is like a blanket, despite his big build and packed muscle. Like a blanket, not because its soft and fluffy, but he fills you with warmth with how much he cares and how gentle he is.

And his smile.

You tell him, you appreciate his smile. It looks good on him, of course, but also because its the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of him. Of Togame Jo, the second in command of Shishitoren.

Togame Jo, the first person you've fallen for.

Despite all that, the reality of rejection weighed on you like a boulder that's hanging over your head.

You finally speak, "...Maybe not, afterall."

Kotoha pursed her lips, just by seeing the sad look on your face, she knows already what you're thinking.

She knows that if she pushes the subject further, you'll be more inclined to either stick with what you said or change the subject.

The door to the entrance rang, making you snap back to reality as customers enter.

"Finish your omurice." Kotoha reminded, before going off to handle the new customers.

She subtly glances at your direction and sighs, "Really, why is she so dense?"

TOGAME to SAKO

Togame couldn't help the slight raise on the corner of his mouth as Sako sputtered in his drink.

"W-What? That's what you want to ask me about..?!"

This is really reminding him of his last conversation with Sakura. Are all the people he knows are just bad with romance advice?

"What? What did you expect me to talk to you about?" Togame leaned back on the wall as he glanced at the side where other Shishitoren members were talking and having fun with each other out in the sun.

He and Sako were under roofed building, where he called Sako over to talk about something important.

"When you said 'something important', I thought it meant something related to Shishitoren or something.." Sako sighed while fanning himself as the heat of the sun became hotter than usual.

("You're wearing a turtleneck in this heat?" Togame pointed out.

"It's thin." Sako glared the ground.)

"But I am part of Shishitoren." Togame grinned.

"You know what I mean..!" Sako grumbled in reply.

Sako seethed in irritation (although lighthearted) while Togame just grinned and chuckled.

"Why are you even asking me this? Isn't Tomiyama-san better to ask about..." Sako waved his hand uncertainly, "..you know, you and her?"

"Ah well, I believe you're one of the closest members that she's interacted with. And Choji..." Togame drifted off, watching Tomiyama saying something enthusiastically to the other members.

Very enthusiastic, seeing as how he's jumping everywhere.

"I don't think Choji's really good to ask these kinds of stuff. Plus, I think you're a cool guy."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Sako bit his tongue to refrain from retorting, his forehead and eyebrows are twitching.

He huffed and looked away, crossing his arms. "We just talk sometimes, that's all." Sako recalled the times you had talked to him energetically while treating the minor wounds after a scuffle.

Afterwards, you realized how much he liked visiting cafes, and that the both of you had similar tastes. Every chance you get, you recommended him some good cafes that you know about and he'd give his feedback later on.

Later on, the group jokes about how Sako is being pampered with sweets.

(The teasing continues despite the attempted murders from Sako.)

"Why are you concerned though? Doesn't look to me that if you confess it's going downhill." Sako raised a brow in curiousity.

And honestly speaking, he actually thought at least one of you had confessed already.

But color him surprise that their second in command is asking for advice related to crushes.

"There's a possibility though, especially when she doesn't feel the same."

...He's got to be kidding.

Sako scrunched his face trying to see if Togame is joking or not.

Said man looks down slightly dejected.

...Oh boy.

If someone were to tell Sako that you're dense as a rock, he wouldn't be surprised. (The amount of times some Shishitoren members tried to flirt with you ended up being a laughing stock with the way you misinterpreted it.)

"Especially.. you know, if I might say the wrong things. Wouldn't wanna scare her or somethin'." Togame continued finally looking at Sako–

He blinked at the way the younger member stared at him like he grew multiple heads.

Sako didn't actually think Togame was dense as well, seeing how he's able to easily tease a lot of people.

"Hm? Sako?" Togame waved a hand in front of Sako.

The younger blinked and grit his teeth, "YOU'RE HOPELESS!"

Togame stared in surprise as he watched Sako stomp away with his arms crossed. Its rare that Sako raises his voice like that.

He sighed, slowly sliding down the wall as he sat on the ground. "At least Sakura gave some form of encouragement.."

Togame sat there for a while.

Maybe Sako's not wrong afterall.

He thought of the way your hands fits his whenever he guides you around.

Or when you cup his cheek so endearingly that if he tried so hard to not blush at the contact, yet the act of you worrying about him gets him flustered anyways. (He's just good at composing himself.)

Or that time he wanted you all by himself just because other members in Shishitoren were delighted by your presence as you started hanging around them more often.

He thinks about you. Your smile, your patience, the way you're so easy to tease which gets him the most satisfying and adorable expressions from you.

And of course, he thinks about the idea of you being his.

...Yeah, Sako's definitely right in calling him hopeless.

3 - 3

TOGAME to UMEMIYA

"KAME-CHAN! UME-CHAN IS HEEERE!" Choji's loud voice rang throughout the building that even people inside the abandoned theater could hear.

Togame sat up in intrigue. What's the top of Furin doing here again?

He scratched his head while yawning. Fortunately, he got a good amount of rest from the short nap he took.

Togame wanted to isolate himself for a while just to think about what he's gonna do with his feelings for you. Let alone the idea of wanting to be yours.

He realized he dozed off, it was still a good nap though.

Standing up while patting his pants from the dust, he walked and looked over the metal rail trying to see Choji and Umemiya.

He blinked when they're not there—

"KAME-CHAN!"

—He nearly stumbled right into the metal bars as ghe door to the rooftop slammed open. Revealing an excited Choji holding take out bentos on each hand, with Umemiya also holding takeout inside plastic bags.

The two were practically sparkling.

"Choji, don't be too loud." Togame lightly scolded. Rubbing his temples while trying to ease the incoming headache that he felt starting from his neck.

He should really be much more aware of his sleeping positions.

"Now, now," Umemiya chuckled, walking right towards Togame and brought his arm around Togame's shoulders. Choji followed right after and tugged on the left arm of Togame's. "Let's get this party started!" Umemiya cheered excitingly, as he and Choji pulled the 'just-awoke-from-a-nap-Togame' towards the floor.

Man, maybe he should've continued sleeping.

The three continued to set up their spontaneous low-budget picnic area. Dragging used cardboards and setting up the foods before they sat down. Choji and Umemiya talking and having fun while Togame stood quiet yet smiling at the atmosphere.

Finally, they were ready to eat.

"Thank you for the meal!" Umemiya yelled, the three of them clapped their hands together while giving thanks.

"Ah, it's been a while since we've had this!" Umemiya hummed while munching on the fried tonkatsu.

"You bet! At least the weather isn't too hot this time around." The leader of Shishitoren munched on the bread that Umemiya brought, eyes sparkling at the taste.

"Why do you guys have the best breads?!"

"Well, we just do!" Choji and Umemiya grinned while stuffing their mouths full. Talking about whatever that came to their minds. Togame, who's more on the introverted side, continued to listen. Talking whenever Choji or Umemiya ask for his opinion.

"See! I told you lemon juice is better drinking in the heat!" Argued Choji, glaring half-heartedly at Umemiya who is quick to counter. Saying something like "apple juice is much better and is the classic!"

Honestly, Togame wasnt really listening.

Instead, he was focused on his phone. Staring at the cute picture of you petting a stray cat that you found.

You weren't in the picture, but still.

The cat is cute too.

"This cat kinda looks like you. Very fluffy fur with green eyes." seen.

Togame chuckled, deciding whether to reply or not (he is lazy like that) until another message was sent.

"And looks very sleepy and lazy." seen. reacted with a thumbs down

He refrained from smiling, not wanting to get caught and to distract the other two from their "fun" debate. Togame wouldn't know what to do if Choji, much less Umemiya, ask why did he look so giddy all of a sudden.

He did that mistake more times than he can count with Choji. Smiling whenever you're there. Even if it was something that's stupid, he finds it adorably stupid. Then out of nowhere, Choji would point out that Togame's smiling more than usual, and Togame didn't notice he was doing it afar like a love-struck idiot.

It was a good thing Choji's easy to convince.

Togame huffs while putting the phone in his pocket. He usually doesn't reply to messages (he never does) but he'll be sure to give you a light scolding for your message the next time you visit Shishitoren.

It was then that Togame was once again reminded of his feelings for you. He's still undecided on what he should do.

One would think that they should confess just to get over it. If the person you like returns the same feelings, then good for them. If not, then they'll either move on and try to remain friends.

Togame knows you're an understanding person. A trait that he likes about you, which made him spill some of his worries from time to time. When you're the one who's having troubles, he's there to listen as well.

Still, deep down he knows he'll get hurt at the chance of you rejecting him.

He also doesn't know what to do if there's someone else that manages to capture your heart. You, someone he wants to be with every moment. He wants to be the only one that can receive your never ending kindness and love.

However, is there someone that you like?

Togame felt his appetite loosing.

"AH! I forgot to give the rest of the bottled drinks to the other members!" Togame slightly flinched at the sudden outburst from Choji. Who hurriedly grabbed the cooler set aside and picked up it above his head. Running towards the door while yelling out a 'I'll be right back! Don't finish the food...!"

Umemiya and Togame's eyes meet. The Bofurin leader giving a shrugged smile to Togame.

"So Togame... I've been meaning to ask this but.."

Togame's shoulders slightly tense. Did Umemiya notice something? He wouldn't be surprised.

A container with half-eaten omurice suddenly filled Togame's vision.

"KOTOHA-CHAN'S OMURICE IS AMAZING, ISN'T IT?"

...Oh.

"Oh, uh- yeah.." Relieved yet bewildered, Togame nodded along to whatever Umemiya is spewing out right now. Shoulders relaxing as for a moment he thought he was found out.

Umemiya shouldn't know, obviously. Togame thinks he's getting more restless as he if reminded of his feelings time and time again.

He takes a sip from his ramune bottle.

"Oh by the way, I saw you smiling at your phone earlier."

Togame choked. The drink went down the wrong pipe.

"Oh? Perhaps its from that girl you like?"

The exit looks really appealing right now. Maybe he should help Choji, the guy is taking way too long to serve drinks to the other members.

He sighed in defeat, "Am I really that obvious?"

Umemiya laughed, scooting closer to Togame as he generously placed some side dishes onto his plate.

"Well, at first it didn't seem like anything. You two were interacting as usual, being pretty close and all." Umemiya swallowed the omurice before continuing, "But then, Sakura started to become more flustered and embarrassed than usual."

The Shishitoren member groaned, already having an idea where this is going.

"Don't blame Sakura though, he did kept it a secret. Although his classmates are too nosy, and somehow it spread to the rest of Furin. Well, not everyone, but most."

Great, Togame is estatic to know he's being gossiped as someone with pining problems.

...It's true, but still-

"It was easy to piece everything together." Togame felt a comforting pat on the back, which didn't really felt reassuring.

For god's sake, instead of being known as the second-in-command of the ruling gang Shishitoren, he'll be known as a love-struck idiot!

"Before you ask," Togame grumbled, "I'm not sure if I should confess or not."

"Ehh? I think you should."

The raven jerked his head up in surprise, not expecting a straight-forward answer. From all the advice he's gotten, (if he could call it advice from someone who is not used to open affection, or being called hopeless by a younger member) none of them really convinced on what Togame should do.

"Wait- why?"

"'Why?'" Umemiya asked, as if he himself is confused at Togame's question.

"I mean, you don't seem that opposed to the idea." That's true... after all, the idea of being yours always resonated in his mind.

The idea of you two together, it doesn't seem bad at all.

But-

"And what if she rejects me?"

"Nah, she won't." The taller said certainly. A smile gracing his features, Togame wonders if Umemiya's an expert in relationships.

Umemiya did help Choji and Shishitoren.

"How are you sure?" His brow furrows, a heavy feeling in his gut just imagining the different ways a confession from him to you could go wrong.

One, the most obvious, and probably the most gut-wrenching, is that you'll reject him. Saying that you either have a different type of your ideal-boyfriend, and that he doesn't fit that category, or that you have someone else in mind. Then afterwards, your friendship will be so awkward, which makes you distance yourself and Togame will regret everything for the rest of his life.

Two, you reject him, but want to remain friends. However, there's still that slim chance that the both of you won't be as close as you guys are right now as friends.

And three-

"Woah, woah, woah, hold that overthinking right there, buddy!" A hand on his shoulder brought Togame back to reality. He forgot for a moment the person beside him is Umemiya.

Oh, did he say that out loud?

"Kind of.. you were quite scary for a moment." A shiver went down Umemiya's spine, beads of sweat forming on his head. "You were there mumbling with an empty expression, and your eyes man!" Umemiya dramatically clutched his heart, trying to lighten Togame's mood even just a little bit.

Togame cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Never knew you were one for overthinking." Concern was written all over Umemiya's face. He let out a sigh while trying to figure out what he could offer words of comfort.

Umemiya knew you, although the two of you never interacted closely. He's just glad that Kotoha has a new friend. Much to his surprise, you were also closely affiliated to Shishitoren. Imagine that.

Yet, when Shishitoren is sometimes brought up in a discussion, Umemiya could clearly see the sparkles and affection you have for a certain member.

The stories you share whenever Togame teases you.

Or that one time you shared how Togame tried so hard on that vending machine where a very cute miniature plushie (which you bring everywhere) while you and Choji try to pull him away despite his stubbornness. Which caused him to spend a lot of yen.

Or that one specific moment Umemiya saw you messaging Togame (he didn't mean to peek, he was just too tall that he could lean over) with a giddy smile on your face.

Togame this, Togame that.

Umemiya sighed, giving a comforting smile to Togame. "She won't." Just from that, Togame somehow felt a tiny bit of confidence.

"I won't say anything else, but I've seen her around. From what I could tell, and from what Kotoha-chan tells me, she's a wonderful person."

A small smile appeared, Togame's glad you have a lot of people who care for you. "Plus, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Umemiya gave one last pat to Togame's shoulder. However, he couldn't help but think about what Umemiya said.

"What do you mean by you won't say anything else-"

"KAME-CHAN! UME-CHAN! WE HAVE EXTRA FOOD!"

Choji appeared from the door, holding a plastic container which seemed to contain barbeque sticks.

"OOOHH! THAT LOOKS DELICIOUS!"

"IT IS! ARIMA KNOWS ALL THE BEST RESTAURANTS NEARBY!"

Dumbfounded by the sudden entrance of Choji, he couldn't bring himself to ask Umemiya again.

He watched as Choji and Umemiya scarf down every food possible.

Togame looked at his food in thought.

At least he got a better answer.

YOU to SUO

"I see! So it's like that!" Suo smiled as he let out a small laugh.

"I'm having a serious case of deja vu right now.." You said dryly while wondering, again, how'd you end up in this situation.

Seriously, might as well inform the whole Furin boys at this point!

"Now, now, don't be so down hearted." You pouted as Suo poured tea in your cup. The sweet aroma of honey wafted through the air, nodding gratefully at Suo.

As much as you hated to be reminded of your feelings, and that horrid conversation you had with Kotoha, you still have to decide if you want to suffer and keep it a secret, or suffer with a 50/50 percent chance of your confession going 'yay!' or 'nay..'

So, what better option than to ask the most elegant person in all of Furin?

"Did you know, bees like to read?"

"Excuse me, what."

Yup, elegance is Suo's forte.

You watched as Suo gently sat down opposite of you, bringing his own cup to his lips. "Their favorite novel is the Great Gatsby." He let out a proud smile with his eye closed, before taking a sip.

The Great Gatsby. Gats-'bee.'

...Elegant my ass.

You slapped your palm onto your forehead. "...So you're not doing this seriously. Thanks, got the memo." The chair you sat on scratched against the floor, the sound echoing throughout the cafe. Some bystanders noticed the noise, which made Suo give a polite smile.

He quickly tugged you back in the chair. You sat down with an unamused expression, contrasting Suo's lighthearted one.

"I'm joking!"

"Well, I'm not."

"I know. From the amount of times you joined in the conversation whenever Shishitoren is brought up." Suo placed a finger on his chin, letting out a hum before continuing, "Oh! And that one time where you had to brag about that cute plushie you got from a vending machine, also brought by Togame."

"Okay, stop- I get it!" You waved your hands frantically, as if that mere gesture would make Suo shut up.

"And of course—" Suo brought his phone up as you watch him scroll for a bit before pressing the screen to your face.

"—we couldn't forget that moment where you sat there blushing and all giddy."

It was a selfie of Kotoha, her finger pointing towards the counter-

Wait a minute.

It was you, in the background, leaning on the counter with Kotoha's omurice. Something normal.

Yet clearly you can see yourself smiling widely with your hand propped on your chin while staring at your phone.

"Kotoha said you got a text message from Togame."

You banged your head on the table.

"Was I really that obvious?" You asked yourself. Purely rhetorical.

"Mhm!" Suo nodded anyway. Very enthusiastically.

"I would like to crawl into a deep hole now, thanks."

"You can do that once you've decided to confess to Togame."

You groaned, the mere idea already making you suffer. Maybe you should've just stopped asking advice right at Kotoha.

As much as you adore Suo as your friend, you keep on forgetting he's also a little piece of–

"Now, now, let's try this again." You raised your head deciding to finally listen to Suo. Seems like he's actually being serious this time.

"So you said you're not sure if you're going to confess." You nod.

"Uh-huh."

"What's making you worried?" Suo tilted his head in wonder. Because really, he thinks you shouldn't be worried.

With the way you talk about Togame, Suo can already guess from that the guy also reciprocates what you feel.

"Well, you see." You brought your hands together while looking seriously, which reminded of Suo of how detectives or villains would act in a tv show.

"There are three things."

...What?

"Three..?" He asked confusedly.

"One, he rejects me. That's it, and then its the end of our good going friendship." Suo continued to smile, despite wanting to protest and tell you directly that yes, you should confess.

However, what kind of gentleman is he if decided not to listen to a fellow friend's worries?

"It starts like this," You start off, leaning slightly forwards to Suo with a glare that could rival Sakura's. "I might not be his friend anymore."

Suo opened his mouth to retort. He thought that it might be a tad... rude to ignore someone just because they harbor feelings for you-

You raise your palm to stop him, "I know what you're going to say. However..."

There was a moment of anticipation. Suo would usually be lighthearted from time to time in talks like this...

You banged your fist lightly on the table, "What am I gonna do if I lose a friend like Togame?!" You whined.

Oh.

Suo sighed in relief, thinking you were going to ignore Togame.

You let out a (quite dramatic) cry as you scratch your hair in frustration. "Our friendship could end the moment I open my mouth and say 'Oh by the way, I like you, let's go out.' and you know what would hit me in the gut?!"

Your hands gripped the sides of table so tightly. Suo just watched with concern and intrigue.

"It's the chance he likes someone else!" You cried in defeat and slumped in your chair.

"I think you should-"

"No, it doesn't end there!"

Suo sighed.

"Secondly, what if our friendship deteriorates from there?!" These are the thoughts that kept you up right after talking to Kotoha.

At first it started with the reassurance that Togame is a chill person. Sure he can be violent here and there (not against you, never against you. you would be lying if you sometimes forgot that he is the same guy who's a member of a gang) but in the end, its Togame.

But then as the night went on and the more you developed feelings for him, you felt yourself overthinking way too much.

"Imagine, we casually hang out. With Choji too, wouldn't be akward right?" If you were in animated right now, Suo could see the steam blowing from your ears. "But then, Togame would be reminded of my confession, and then everything would be akward!"

"From there on, he would slowly distance himself. Probably even Choji if I'm that unlucky, and then I would forever suffer in my bed at night thinking how much I regret everything!"

"How about we toss a coin?" Suo intervened the moment you were about to move on to point number three.

You stopped midway into your rant. Suo just maintained a smile and placed a simple 100 yen on the table.

"...What?"

"Let's toss a coin!" Suo repeated.

Your eyes went back and forth at Suo and the coin. You wondered if this is Suo's attempt to make a joke once more.

"I'm not joking." Suo laughed, placing the coin on top of his thumb. You stared confusedly, still not knowing what to say.

"W-Why..?"

"I mean, it's just a simple solution. You have these thoughts with you for a while, both negative and positive." Suo raised a finger, "While you aren't wrong, most of your concerns do happen to some people."

You deflated at that

"But I'm pretty sure you also have that side of you that wants to be in a relationship that brought the idea of you even confessing." You nodded.

Just thinking about Togame overall has brought you joy. He's mostly quiet, yet never fails to bring entertainment whenever the two of you bicker against one another. He's also kind, the plushie he gave you is probably your favorite. Sometimes can be provoking to others he's not familiar with, but only when there are guys who are disturbing you.

You also can't deny the fact that he's good-looking.

"If we want to get this over with, then let's just toss a coin."

Suo paused at the bewildered look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing." You chuckle hesitantly, "I was just expecting a more.. straight to the point answer."

"You are going to get an answer regardless." He argued, stabilizing the coin on his thumb.

Well, he's not wrong.

"Heads is 'you will confess', and tails is 'you won't confess'."

"Okay."

"Then.. here I go!" Suo flickered his thumb upwards.

Your eyes follow the quick movement of the coin in the air before it landed on Suo's palm. He then placed the coin on the back of his other hand to flip it.

Your breath hitched as you watched intently on the result.

Suo removed his palm, "Tails it is!"

"Oh.." So you won't be confessing after all. You did want a straight to the point answer.

Suo noticed your mood slightly dampened. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged. "Nothing, didn't expect this to be somewhat anti-climatic." Honestly, you weren't sure as well. You asked Suo for help, and he provided it.

Maybe you felt a bit unsatisfied with the results.

"'Anti-climatic' you say?" Suo gave a knowing smile, before placing down the coin. "Or perhaps, you don't like the result?"

You blinked, were you really that obvious?

"You see, there's a trick here."

"There is?"

"Yes." You didn't expect that. So there was an actual reason that Suo wanted to flip coins instead?

"You see, when people are indecisive they flip a coin right?" You watch in curiosity as Suo started to hold the coin in his fingers. "But here's the thing, when you're either unsatisfied with the result, or you internally wish for a specific decision, that's when you know what you truly want."

He slides the coin in front of you before turning it around revealing the 'heads'.

That.. That does make sense.

By then, you started to feel satisfied. A smile unknowingly appearing.

A light clap brought back your attention. Seeing Suo's smile slightly reassured you despite the negative thoughts that were threatening to take over once more. "So, I'm guessing a confession is happening?" He teased.

You huffed, "Yeah.." You looked down at your hands in thought. The idea of confessing, albeit scares you, at least you can say you tried.

"I just hope you nothing goes wrong."

"Oh don't worry." Suo brought his cup up, "I'm sure it'll go well."

You smiled, bringing your own cup against his as the two of you slightly cheered before savoring the tea.

FINAL :

YOU and TOGAME

It's been a while since the three of you hang out again.

"Come on, you can do it! You can beat Kame-chan!" Choji cheered in the background while you and Togame were playing against one another in a sniper arcade game.

"Ehh? I think her machine's gun is smoother." Complained Togame, who quickly looked at your score being close to his.

"I think you're scared to be beaten." You grinned as you continued to shoot the targets that appeared on the screen.

"You? Beating me? Psh, you can't even close the ten point gap."

"I'm about to!"

"The game is ending in one minute, chibi." You groaned at the nickname before recklessly pointing your gun at any target.

"Go go! You're almost there!" Oh to have a supporter like Choji.

Still, the game ended as Togame grins triumphantly while you sulked. Choji patting your shoulders in comfort while he also says 'good job!' to Togame.

"I want a rematch!"

"We're out of money."

You banged your head against the machine, causing for both Choji and Togame to wince.

"Come on, chibi." Togame lightky tugged on your arm. The unexpected closeness making you blush lightly.

Meanwhile, Togame feels like he can't get enough of how cute you are.

The three of you sat on a bench in front of a convenience store while eating ice-cream that you paid because, well, you simply lost the bet.

At least it wasn't too expensive.

You sat in the middle of the two Shishitoren members. Too busy eating their ice cream to strike up a conversation.

You quietly counted the change in your hand, before letting out a surprised sound.

"What's wrong?" Togame questioned.

"They gave me an excess change." You recounted to make sure before excusing yourself to go back to the counter.

You and the cashier worker exchanged greetings. You look back to simply glance at Togame and Choji, but to your surprise, Choji can't be found.

Where did he-

Ping!

You jumped at the sudden notification in your phone. At the same time, Togame also brought his phone up from afar.

With new profound curiosity, the notification came from a group chat that Choji has created with just the three of you. Your brows furrow in concern, a slight uncertain smile as you felt a sense of dread incoming.

"Hiiii!! So I'll be going ahead~ Something came up so, enjoy having a fun date!" seen by togame and you

A wave of heat spread across your cheeks, staring in shock at the message. Similarly, from afar, Togame felt his ears burning.

You would have appreciated the heads up from Choji- just, without the date part.

Especially the date part.

Gulping nervously, you walk back to wear Togame is seated, neither of you chose to look at each other for obvious reasons.

The two of you continued to sit in silence for a few minutes. The simple idea of 'having a date' weighed heavily on each person's minds.

Togame's thoughts were filled, followed by the soft crunch from the chocolated coated ice cream. "Did Choji finally figure out? He knew that I harbor feelings for her? But why say it in the group chat..?" His brows furrows in thought.

"Ain't no way did Choji just outed me. Why did he say in the group chat? Was it a joke? But he's bever the type to joke that way..." Nervously swallowing, you can't help but glance sideways at Togame beside you.

Similarly, he's been looking at you from his peripheral vision. More thoughts swirling in his head.

Before the both of you could initiate any kind of conversation, another notification sound could be heard, you two quickly check out what Choji could possibly say this time.

You freeze, a red flush spreading, while Togame drops his ice cream popsicle in disbelief.

This time, the message made you want to crush your phone and never appear under the sunlight.

"Use this time to confess properly okay? It's kind of tiring to see the both of you pining against one another. I'm counting on the two of you! :DD" seen by togame and you

...Well, isn't this the greatest?

In an absolutely shocking turn of events, no one has expected that their friend Choji would...

Choji, who Togame dearly loves as his friend, someone who introduced him to Shishitoren, and a person who he thinks shines the brightest at his best, just made Togame want to crawl in a hole and never come out.

He cleared his throat, quietly pressing the off button on his cellphone and placing it on the table, looking away as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. The tip of his ears burning while he feels his heart beating out of his ribcage.

You, who is trying to comprehend the message Choji sent, gripping on your phone like there is no tomorrow. Eyes wide and jaw dropping nearly to the floor, a deep scarlet covering your cheeks and neck. Not once have you moved your eyes from your screen.

"Choji.."

"What the fuck?!"

The both of you thought simultaneously.

Silence ensues, the air filled with a lot of tension, neither of you know how to start the conversation.

Togame's mind reels, he doesn't know what to say— he doesn't even know what to feel. All he knows that one way or another, he's screwed. (No thanks to his leader!)

You on the other hand, felt like you were about to burst from the embarassment.

It felt like the air was so suffocating, that the two felt the need to say something.

With one last glance at the message, you nod in resolution.

"..I'm sorry I haven't been honest, but I like-"

"Can I take you out-"

Both of your eyes met, mouths snapping shut in unison. Embarrassment and hesitation filling the two of you— acting like a couple on their first date (...well, if things go smoothly..)

Togame shakes his head before coughing. "You go first?" He offered to you, because did he actually hear you right?

"Oh no, you can go first.." You protested.

"No, you." Togame huffs in slight amusement.

"You!"

"How about... together?" He compromised, which makes you agree to the idea. Your heart pounding in nervousness– even if you heard somewhat of what he said a while ago.

"Like usual?" You chuckled nervously.

"Sure." Togame smiled.

"Three,"

"Two,

"One."

"I like you, please go out with me."

"I'd like to take you out on a date."

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

Togame is the first to look away, covering his mouth in shock— clearly flustered as the tip of his ears turn red.

You, on the other hand, can't help but look down to hide the growing smile on your face.

In the end, maybe Choji did something goof after all.

BONUS!

Choji giggles as while he opens the bag of chips he managed to buy before sneaking off ahead. Umemiya returns the grin before patting the Shishitoren leader on the back.

"I thought you wanted to wait for them to earn their courage?" Umemiya— who was staring at the two new lovebirds from afar— raises his brow amusingly at Choji.

"They were taking way too long!" The smaller huffed, before taking a quick zoomed in pic of you and Togame walking ahead. Hands linked together, while shy smiles and laughs were exchanged in the distance.

----

notes ! :

...this took me so long to write it help the ending was badly rushed but... anyways ! :))

guess who flunked their math portion of the college entrance test! (me hahahshhshah..)

[happiest-hotch]

OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?

i would dance all over this man

Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work

Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.

After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.

These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.

He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.

It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.

Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.

Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.

You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.

You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."

You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."

"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."

You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.

"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.

You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.

There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.

"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."

"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.

"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."

You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.

"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.

You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."

Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."

"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.

You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."

It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.

"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.

"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."

"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.

Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."

[jadeee]

hello! just an idea hehe

reader and nanami are still students in jujutsu high:) the reader is really lovesick for nanami though and he appears so…indifferent

hi there 💗 thanks for your patience! I've been sitting on this for a minute. lmk what you think! I enjoyed writing him as a secret softie at such a young age.

He's not an idiot. He's seen the way you look at him. He notices how your fingers tap against your legs when you talk to him. The way you can barely look him in the eye at times.

The sad truth is, in those moments when you found the courage to approach him... he felt it too. The way his heart would beat a little faster. How his ears would perk up, eager to hear your voice.

"So... are you going with anyone?"

"No."

"Oh," you glanced at the floor "I'm not going with anyone either."

"That's a shame."

A soft chuckle left your lips as you looked into his eyes "Yeah... um, would you— I was— I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he stood up straight then faced you "I'm sure you'll find someone... but I'm afraid I'm not that person."

A sinkhole formed in the pit of your stomach ready to swallow your heart whole "Right," tears pricked the corner of your eyes "sorry for bothering you."

"You're no—" you walked off before he could even get the words out. The sentence ended with a sigh and nothing more.

A hand rested on his shoulder "Why'd you do a stupid thing like that?"

Kento's shoulders relaxed at the sight of his friend.

"Haibara..."

"Y'know, you're not going to find anyone if you keep turning them down." he pulled his hand back "Besides, who's going to watch over you when we get old?"

Kento chuckled at the thought. He never imagined himself as old and gray... the bell rang disrupting the dream. "We should get to class."

"This is stupid."

"We look great!" Haibara chimed amid the crowd of friends heading inside. Kento looked down at his shoes, silently cursing how they hurt his feet.

He trailed behind everyone then slowed to a stop. You looked out at the sunset with your hands resting at your side, like a statue slowly being immortalized by the glow.

Kento felt his cheeks grow hot the second you turned around.

"Oh, hi."

"Hi..." he naturally approached you while the others went inside "you look nice."

The sound of your half-hearted chuckle made the corner of his lip turn up. "It's true."

"I just expected to hear that from my date is all."

"Are you here alone?"

You shook your head "I'm here with friends, but I always imagined I'd have the typical prom, y'know? Linking arms and whatnot."

Kento nodded then studied the sky with you. The bass from inside seeped into the safe haven you two shared. Bass and birds was an odd mix. It sounded like cacophony to him. The two didn't mesh.

Birds were seen as peaceful, gentle, and even docile. Bass was anything but that. Then again, when he looked at you he felt his anxieties ease.

The future was always in constant fluxation, waiting to solidify itself based on whatever dumb or hopeful decisions you'd both make; but, he couldn't live without this one.

"What are you doing?" you chuckled when he offered you his arm.

"... am I not doing it right?"

A grin grew as you studied his bent elbow at your side. You linked your arm with his. "You're doing just fine."

Soft pink graced his cheeks at the sight of your arm with his, "Shall we?"

[pricegouge]

I got thinking of all the other fun ways you could sensually burn someone that doesn't involve the possibility of giving your partner a third degree burn, so here's John refusing to put his cigar out on you.

John Price x gn!reader. Could be a soldier or a civilian, doesn't really matter

cw for drinking. burning, obviously. including 'light' branding. mouth as ashtray. unsafe + under negotiated kink practices. use of 'sir'. spit kink (why am I writing this so much lately?) brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicit here. mostly just weird ass fun. super abrupt ending/no aftercare because i had chores to do and wanted to wrap this up. not edited either, sorry. 

The first time you'd asked, John had looked considerate for all of two seconds before hitting you with the 'not tonight, love,' and distracting any follow up requests you might have had by fucking you so good and deep you were fairly certain you'd been bruised with the shape of him. He never brings it up again, so you do, weeks later, when he has you on your knees between his own, head tilted onto his thick thigh while he simply enjoys the taste of his cigar. He doesn't even bother touching you, one hand cradling a glass of scotch on the arm of his chair, the other rotating the smoking object of your attention.

"I want to try something," you mumble, voice low. Embarrassed. You hate asking for things twice, afraid to seem needy. But John had never given you a reason as to why he wouldn't do it last time, so you bite back your shame and hide yourself away amongst the folds of his thick cargos when he looks down at you. They've been softened over the years by wear and sweat, the weave buffed so thin it pills in the places his holster would rub against it. You rub your lips over them. Distracting yourself, maybe. Desperate for his softness, more like. Still, that's not what you ask for when he prompts you to continue. 

"Want you to put that out on me."

You don't bother clarifying what you're referring to. John knows. 

He places it in the ashtray now, leaning forward to run his hand over your scalp, calluses catching. There's still some smoke stuck between his teeth. It spills out across your face when he speaks, cedar and tea. "Not sure that's a good idea, pet."

You want to tell him of course it isn't, that you want his indifference. To bear the brunt of his recklessness. But John has always kept that side of himself carefully sequestered away from you, and admitting what you want in this case will only draw it further away. So when he looks down at you, eyes kind but confused, you can only whisper a soft, "Please."

John sighs, chest swelling and falling as he slumps back into his seat. He's not unsympathetic as his thick knuckles brush your temple, stroke the crest of your ear. "We can find something else for you," he hedges.

"But I want -."

"Is it the cigar itself? The smoking?" He sounds doubtful, knows the only time you smoke is when he breathes it into your lungs himself. Knows you don't plan on changing that any time soon.

But he's wrong because it is the cigar, and the smoking, and it's John most importantly. His scent, the authority he carries so effortlessly, so intricately tied to the hyper macho habit that shouldn't work but does because he can't help being himself. You don't know how to articulate that though, let alone explain why you want it seared into your flesh. Instead, you simply say, "Yes."

"Right," John grunts. "I thought about it, after you asked." He pulls a face, distasteful, continues, "Don't relish the idea of giving you such a nasty scar, pet."

"I'd take care of it," you gripe, pouty. John gives you a look that dares you to interrupt him again.

"I know you would. Always do such a good job taking care of me," he winks. "But there are tars and such in cigars that hinder the healing. Not to mention the ash that winds up in the wound," he grimaces.

For a moment, you allow yourself to fantasize; imagine that the oils would be trapped in your skin forever, that the burn would be left smelling earthy and dense instead of barbeque and antiseptic. But you know he's right, and acquiesce with a nod.

Thoughtful, John's hand leaves your face to take another drag. "C'mere," smoke leaks from his lips like a faucet as he says it and you know he'll offer you a drink in consolation for the request he's denied you. You're not disappointed when he guides you closer to him with a heavy palm on the nape of your neck, the warm butt of the cigar just slightly damp where it presses into your skin there. You take John's offering happily enough, take his cock even more enthusiastically after that.

No, the disappointment doesn't set in until the weeks that follow come and go, and the only indication you receive that John's even thought about your request comes in the form of a box of strike anywhere matches on his office desk one morning, a bic the next.

***

He waits until he returns from leave, ensuring you've been good in his absence before giving you your reward.

"Kneel, pet." He nods at the pillow set to the right of his office sofa, minimal and threadbare, cozy enough to pad your achy joints just fine. He uses it to soften his desk chair when you're not using it, you know. He would never make you use something he hadn't properly vetted first, after all.

You pout, having expected to be sat on his lap for your reward like you always are, but John just tuts, eyes warm.

"You'll like it, I promise."

He waits until you've settled to start setting up. He brings a decanter of scotch over with two glasses, pours you both one. He places his own on the side board and yours upon the coffee table. You don't reach for it, too busy watching his movements. Choosing a cigar is a long, drawn out affair involving much sniffing. Occasionally, he'll offer one to you to sample, taking into consideration whether the leathery notes make you crinkle your nose, or if the floral scents make you tilt in consideration. Whatever he settles on, he does not offer you a chance to veto.

You expect him to sit down after that, but he pats his pockets down theatrically, moving to his desk one last time when he finds them empty of whatever it is he's looking for. You don't bother hiding your interest as he shuffles through his drawers, but before you can catch a glimpse of whatever he's after, he turns his mischievous eyes on you.

"Eyes forward. Keep your mouth open and your teeth bared."

A gag? Some reward. It's a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you know John hates a brat, and you don't want to ruin whatever fun he's got planned for you tonight, so you do as you're told, staring up at the collection of framed medals hanging above the couch while he rumages about for a moment longer. When he comes into your peripheral, you hear him carefully lining some objects along the coffee table, but you don't dare look.

John notices, humming appreciatively as he finally takes a seat at the end of the sofa. "Being so good for me already, pet." His knuckles are heavy and rough where he strokes your temple, down to your jaw. You watch his eyes, note the way they cloud darker as his fingertips find your teeth. Along your bottom incisors, up to push against a canine. He calls you a good pet when the pads of his fingers stick to your dry enamel, and you cock your head in confusion. 

Smiling, John pinches your front teeth between thumb and forefinger, rubbing back and forth as is memorizing all the dips and edges. A small sound escapes your throat, unsure if you should be worried he's going to try pulling one. But John's eyes are far from cruel when his fingers abandon your teeth in favor of bringing his free hand to your face. You feel something coarse brush your bottom lip briefly, and then gasp and reel back in surprise when a soft pop is the only warning you get before a match ignites in your face.

John pays you no mind, twirling the end of his cigar over the match while you struggle to figure out why you taste sulfur. Your fingers find your teeth as if checking they are still there, relief flooding into understanding as you feel a foreign, chalky powder on the tip of your dry tongue. He'd struck the match off your teeth, the cocky bastard.

When the match goes out, John's cigar is only half lit. Reaching for another match, he tuts at you until you get your hands out of his way, offer up your fucking teeth for his use again. This time, you're expecting the strike and you don't flinch away when it ignites, heat spilling across your cheeks while he lets it burn for a moment just inches away. 

This time, when he lights his cigar, he puffs on it like one would light a cigarette, thick clouds of smoke building around him. "Close your mouth, pet. Get it nice and wet," he mumbles between deep drags.

It would be embarrassing, the speed at which you obey, if not for how sure you are that you will like your reward. Sure enough, by the time John's cigar is lit, the match has burnt down to his fingers, and he leans over you expectantly, spitting on your tongue when you open your mouth for his inspection. His eyes lock on your when he lowers the burning match stick to your tongue, but if he expected to find protest, he doesn't get any. 

The match tastes like ash, but it doesn't feel like anything as it sizzles against the wad of spit on your tongue.

"Good?" John asks as he tosses the used match to the side. It's perhaps a bit late, but appreciated all the same. You nod, emphatic, and John smiles down at you, perhaps a touch regretfully. Still, he's calm and confident when he pries your mouth open again, dangling another thick line of spit into your mouth. Honestly, it tastes worse than the match did, tar-soaked and heavy with nicotine.

That doesn't stop you from vibrating in excitement when he holds his cigar over your mouth carefully. There's a moment of intense eye contact, John trying to ascertain for certain that you can handle this. You don't dare move your mouth, but you pour every ounce of acceptance and eagerness into your gaze. John accepts with a soft huff through his nose. "Your reward," he informs you, tapping the shaft of his cigar heavily.

The shower of ash is minimal, but enough to make you flinch when one tiny fleck lands on your sensitive lips. John notices, holds his cigar off to the side in favor of leaning close and licking across your mouth. You meet him for as long as he allows, reveling in the oaky taste that coats his tongue. 

When he sits back, he's donned that serious expression he adopts whenever he's indulging you. You want to ask if he's sure he's good, but the words stick in your throat - congealed. John rolls up his left sleeve, displaying a series of four pink, inflamed marks on the inside of his forearm for your inspection. Ranging from the size of a pencil eraser up to half dollar, the smallest of the marks look the angriest: red and nobby in some places, they look like they will heel badly; whereas the largest of the lot looks hardly noticeable, a flat dark spot at worst. 

John takes another deep drag from his cigar, lets the rich smoke fall across your face as he talks through his exhale. "Are there any of these you don't think you can handle?"

You shake your head excitedly and John brushes his free hand over your throat, calming. Grounding. "'Course you can handle them, eh? Always so good for me." He squeezes your throat once, just because he knows you'll follow as he pulls away. You do, and he spreads his knees wider to accommodate you. 

"It's important you remember this is a reward, yeah? So you don't need to push yourself, or anything like that. If at any point you want to stop, you just need to say. Got ice packs in the freezer for you already," John nods at the minifridge in the corner. 

When he asks if you understand, you just nod, correcting yourself when he gives you an expectant look. "Yes, sir."

"Good pet. If you sit well for me - that means no flinching, no crying, and no whining if I take too long, you'll be rewarded after each one," he flicks his cigar illustratively, sending a small storm of ash falling into the tray on the table next to you. "Now, we're going to start with this one," John points at the second largest mark on his arm, a dense patch of three distinct burns no more than a half inch across. "This one shouldn't scar, but it is fairly recognizable if one knew what they were looking for. Where do you want this one?"

He's not wrong about it being recognizable. It takes you a minute but you remember being a pesky teen, pushing the tops of heated bic lighters against the faux leather of school bus seats, the distinctive pattern in which they'd melt. You know what it'll look like, to be spotted sporting something like that. 

"My thigh," you declare without really thinking, but you grow more confident when you think of the tender flesh, the way the relatively minor mark will feel there as compared to the angrier ones.

"Pants off then, pet."

You scramble to obey while John flicks the lighter. He tilts it so the open flame coats the metal, keeping his thumb safe on the butane pedal. He's still heating it when you come to stand between his knees. Distractedly, he asks where you'd like it, and then peers up at you from under dense brows when you point to a spot high on your thigh.

"Alright, sweetheart." John lets the lighter gutter out, then blows on it a moment. He presses it lightly against the pad of his other hand, testing. He doesn't even flinch, and part of you wants to tell him not to take it easy on you. But then he's asking if you're ready, and you're nodding, biting back a squeal as the hot metal is pressed into the meat of your thigh.

You don't flinch, but it's hard fought. It's more shocking than painful, but easy enough to ease into when John's right there, solid and warm. He coos at you, soft words you barely bother to discern. You lean against him because he didn't say you couldn't, and the movement presses the lighter into you more. It's cooling, technically, though it still feels hot as sin against the sensitive flesh.

John waits until your breaths come in huffs to relent, still murmuring sweetly. He tells you how good you are, how pretty you're gonna look covered in his marks. 

"I hope they scare," you admit, stupidly. John doesn't respond, but his eyes are intense when he guides you back down to your knees.

"Get your mouth good and wet, pet. Open when you're ready."

You watch him puff away at his cigar while you work to coat your mouth in saliva. You can tell he knows he looks good by the way he settles into the couch, legs spread like a whore. You want to be in his lap for this, consider asking for it before your next reward. For now, you settle for opening your mouth, preening when he inspects your tongue and finds it properly coated. 

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, opening wider in excitement just to drink down the burnt taste when he drops it into your mouth, whining at the dissatisfaction of having no real substance to swallow around. 

"Fuck," John groans, "you love this, don't you, pet?"

You nod, hands coming up to his thighs. You walk yourself closer, unsure what you want but knowing you need to be closer. 

He obliges, tucking his cigar between his teeth so he can cup your face with both hands. "So good for me. Knew you'd like it." He grabs one of your wrists, mustache tickling the sensitive skin there as he licks a hot stripe over you. "Ready?" he asks, and you barely have time to register what he means before he's dropping more ash onto you.

There's not enough spit - not enough time has passed for ash to properly build up. You can't help the yelp you emit when a tiny ember smolders against your flesh. John shushes you, the little thing having already burned itself out. "You're okay," he says, and you are - just a pin prick pink mark left. "You need a minute?"

You take a moment to consider, but shake your head. 

"Use your words, pet," he warns.

"I'm ready to continue."

He hums. "Good job." Turning his forearm so you can see the marks there again, John points to the second smallest. Taller than the last, but thinner, the skin here looks blistered and angry, but the shape is indiscernible to you - just a thin, ovular line. 

"This next. Might scar, but pretty unidentifiable. Where we putting this one?"

Holding out the palm of your non-dominant hand, you point at the pad of your palm, wanting something highly visible and fleshy. 

"You sure," he asks, already reaching across you to pick something up off the coffee table. For the first time it occurs to you that you can look, and you go to follow his movements but John stops you with a hand on your jaw. "Eyes on me," he growls. It's the closest thing you've had to a real order all evening.

It's a zippo lighter this time, the click of it low and satisfying as he lights it. You don't have anything to occupy yourself with this time, so you're forced to sit patiently while he heats the lip of the cage around the flame. When he'd said earlier that you wouldn't get your reward if you were too impatient, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, twiddling your thumbs as you watch him concentrate, counting silently to a set number you do not know, the whine you promised not to make builds silently in your throat. 

You can tell by the set of his mouth that he doesn't stop counting, but his eyes find yours, challenging. You settle yourself more firmly on your cushion, determined.

The zippo is less pleasant. You groan when the thin, hot knife of it presses into your skin, but you don't look away from John, and you certainly don't flinch. He doesn't hold it in place as long this time, throwing it back onto the table behind you after only a few seconds as he presses kisses against your palm. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says as he eventually pulls away. "We can be done."

"No!" you cry, pain in your palm already forgotten. "No, sir, please, wanna finish."

"Next one's going to hurt worse," he warns, but you shake your head. 

"I don't mind. This one wasn't even that bad, it just -. It was different. Surprised me."

He frowns down at you suspiciously, but you're not lying and you let him look. John nods his acceptance after a moment, perhaps a bit too relieved. "You want your reward still, pet?"

"Yes," you enthuse, "only -." John cocks his head expectantly and you bite your lip. "Can I sit in your lap this time?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he grins, "of course." It takes him a moment to re-settle everything, bringing his supplies up to the side table which he turns you away from. But then you're comfortably tucked against his chest, mouth open expectantly for the reward which shouldn't be a reward, but very much is. Especially when he holds you tight after, licks into your mouth to share the dry remnants. 

"This next one's the worst one. Do you want to skip it? The last one is the easiest."

You hesitate. "Can I ask what it is?"

"You may ask what the next one is, but not the last one."

"What's the next one?"

John reaches behind you, produces a singular match. "This one smarts, I won't lie. And it will definitely scar."

Part of you wants to rise to the challenge - wants to prove to him you can weather anything he can. You're about to accept it when he reminds you, voice low, "This is supposed to be a reward, pet."

You deflate before you even realize you'd gotten all worked up. "Can we skip it?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking." He presses whiskery kisses to your temple, keeps his lips pressed there when he asks if you still want to do the last one.

"That's the big, pink mark, eh?" you hold his forearm up for your inspection, studying the only remaining mark it could be.

"Yes," he confirms.

"And you said it didn't hurt?"

"Barely even felt it."

You know you can be done, that John will fuck you just as well tonight as he always does on his first night back after a mission. You can say you've had enough, probably even ask for one last reward because you'd done so well explaining what you wanted.

But it would be a lie, if you did, because you know John's saved the best for last, and you do want it.

When you tell him as much, John grins happily and kisses you deeply. 

"This one won't hurt. Won't scar, either, but it'll be pretty obvious what's done it to the boys around base while it heals."

You know what he means when you hear the jangle of his dog tags behind you. "Here," you breathe, pointing to your chest before he can even ask where you want it.

"You sure, pet? The boys'll know what it was if -."

"Don't care," you insist, already taking your top off. You point to the flat of your sternum, drum your fingers there excitedly. "Here, please, sir."

"Alright," he chuckles, placing his cigar back in the ashtray. "Give me a minute."

As it turns out, you do have to give him a full minute while he heats the metal over the open flame of the zippo. You nearly break your promise to yourself not to whine, especially when your eager rocking has you pressing up against his hard cock. John only spares you a dark look when you discover his state, rocking his hips up only once - and there more as a threat to dislodge you than to actually provide either of you friction. 

But then he's deemed the tag hot enough, and he's urging you to lay back over the arm of the sofa. He doesn't ask if you're ready this time, simply presses the metal against you with his own bare palm. You writhe under him, jittery and unmoored. He doesn't help when he takes a nipple into his mouth, breaths heavy and hot against your skin.

John doesn't pull the tag away until it's gone skin-warm, heat transferred to both of you fairly quickly. He brushes his whiskers over the inflamed skin after, just to watch you twitch and hiss, and then presses one last kiss there before sitting up. 

"One last reward, pet?" 

You nod, sliding to your knees between his unthinkingly. He doesn't ask why, just guides your head back by the grip he gets on the cradle of your skull. You know the drill by now, but you open your mouth far too soon, groan happily when he tuts and coats your mouth with his own spit. 

"Should withhold this just for that," he growls, but he's far too eager when he pulls deeply from his cigar, inspects the end to be sure there's adequate ash. "Ready?" he asks, and you simply stick your tongue out further in answer.

Sequel >>