#to not hold himself back and take everything sky has to offer and make him beg again and again

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

I get the racy one night stand to the tender lovemaking pipeline . I'm all here for it. I like seeing Sky being loved and cradled and cherished.

But i want Prapai to utterly ruin Sky.

Even now , Sky has his inhibitions up. Some have fallen down ( due to both Prapai's pushy efforts and Sky daring to hope that Pai isn't an asshole) , but they still don't*know* each other fully yet.

Sky doesn't understand that Prapai is in it for the long game . He , at most , thinks Prapai wants to date him for sometime decently , albeit casually ,but he's falling more and more.

Prapai thinks he has Sky for now , but he's got to prove himself , work harder inorder to fully earn his love and more importantly, his unwavering trust. He sees this as a first of many wins he has to achieve in this relationship.

Both of them are underestimating the depth of the other one's feelings.

But one day , in the not so distant future , both will be on the same page. They both will understand fully that the other won't leave anymore.

They will fight , fights will get worse , get better. They both will hurt , and then come together after apologising to each other. Then they will fight again. And miss each other again.

Till they crash and burn together for Prapai to be like ' I won't hold back anymore.' and Sky to be like ' I want all of you. '

What Prapai does though , is take all of Sky , leave his entire body painted with signs of his desire , his lips puffed up red with blood and eyes tearing up with pleasure , then take one good look at Sky's pleading face for more , dive in again for a second , third and fourth time.

Because when the wind and sky meet on a hot day , thunderstorms results . It won't be tender , and it won't be one downpour .

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect. 

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 

His reward for all that he has had to endure. 

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 

Later, he reminds himself.  

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 

A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 

And then your breathing is cut all together. 

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 

Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 

“Did I say you could do that?” 

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver. 

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 

Your alarm flares up once more. 

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 

 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

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[ma1dita]

its 10pm again.... 😈😈

rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼

IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...

wc: 968

“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.

“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”

Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.

He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got an idea…”

“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.

“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.

“You backing down?”

The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.

—

“Oh, gods, please!”

Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.

“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?” 

He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.

“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.

Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you. 

He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.

“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out. 

So he doesn’t. 

He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.

“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.

“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.

He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Shut up and dance with me

steddie, omegaverse, a little bit of fun during my angst-fest to celebrate some follower milestones 🥰

Steve keeps saying he feels goofy wearing a suit, even if he’s happy to do it for Robin. It’s non-traditional, sticking an omega in black-tie. But neither is an alpha like Buckley having an omega as her best man. Her mating ceremony is beautiful, Chrissy absolutely sparkles, and Steve cries through half of it because he’s so happy for his best friend.

Eddie might cry a little, too.

He’s seated in the front row, with Robin’s family, since he and Steve are ‘capital S’ Serious, and Steve has practically been adopted by Robin’s parents. Melissa catches him crying and smiles; she’s certain to ask when he and Steve are going to tie the knot themselves.

He’s nowhere near ready to answer that one. Especially without Steve to help. Eddie hasn’t wanted to rush things, even being friends so long beforehand. Knows that he loves Steve more than anything. But they’ve barely been dating a year…

After the ceremony, Steve catches his eye from the reception line. “You good?” Eddie mouths, quirking a questioning brow.

Steve makes a dumb face—pretends to cry—gives him a thumbs up, and it’s like everything rearranges, his whole world shifting a couple inches to the left.

He knows.

All his worries about it being too fast float away like so much dust on the wind. He’d be happy enough watching Steve from across the room for the rest of his life, to giggle and mime at one another.

But after the reception, he gets to take Steve home.

Not being in the wedding party, he should honestly head over to the venue soon—after going through the receiving line. He kisses Chrissy’s cheek, tells her she looks stunning, high fives Robin for locking down her perfect omega, and whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you with a cocktail,” in Steve’s ear.

He manages to cop a feel, squeezing Steve’s ass before pulling back, earning him a tiny whine as they part.

Forcing himself to keep walking, Eddie hates leaving his m—

Hates leaving Steve. He wants to run back and scoop him into his arms. To keep him close.

Instead, he gets in Steve’s car and drives to the reception, grabs a scotch from the open bar, and distracts himself from missing Steve by chatting with Jonathan who is just as in need of the company since Argyle and Nancy are also in the wedding party.

Eddie’s on his second scotch when he hears whispers that the limo has arrived, and he goes to order a Manhattan for Steve with extra cherries. He’s barely got the coupe glass in hand before the DJ is announcing the new Mr. and Mrs. Buckley.

They’ve changed into their reception outfits: Chrissy’s dress short and frothy, Robin in metallic pants and a shirt unbuttoned halfway down her sternum, both of them already dancing as they make their grand entrance.

The whole room hoots and hollers as they burst into cheers.

The rest of the party has changed too. Nancy’s in a slinky dress, the depth of the black of it the only thing hiding the outline of her dick. Argyle is in shorts that make him seem ridiculously tall, and Heather is in a romper covered in rhinestones.

Then there’s Steve.

He’s dressed to match Robin in silver-sequined pants, trading the button-down for a loose tank top that shows off too much of his golden skin, freckles and moles like so many stars in the sky.

Eddie’s mouth waters as he makes his way over to him, drink in hand.

“Damn, sweetheart!” he says, eyes locked on Steve’s tits, needing to hold him by the sides and slip his thumbs in to tease his nipples.

Steve grips hush chin, tilts his gaze up until their eyes meet. “Thanks, babe.” He smiles into their kiss, uses his teeth a little.

Eddie offers him the drink, and Steve happily accepts, plucking out a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Another kiss, this one cherry-sweet, and Steve downs his drink, holding his extra cherry between his teeth for a long moment, grinning as he bites it in half.

“Why is it so hot when you do that?” Eddie rasps, his dress pants suddenly a little too tight.

Steve smiles, pulls half the cherry from between his lips, and presses it to Eddie’s mouth. “Shut up and dance with me, Munson,” he says, laughing, barely containing his delight.

He drags Eddie onto the dance floor, the alpha going willingly, hands easily finding their way onto Steve’s hips. Falling to the beat, into moving with one another is easy. So easy, Eddie nearly forgets his revelation from earlier.

And he’s distracted again by Steve’s chest.

“You okay there, Munson?” he teases, using a single finger to direct Eddie’s gaze back up to face him. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A purr rumbles through Eddie’s chest as he leans in close. “Why d’ya still call me Munson all the time, Stevie?” he murmurs, then kisses Steve’s ear.

“Like the way it sounds. I like everything about you, Eddie.” The words are soft and vulnerable, barely audible over the pulse of the music.

It makes Eddie brave enough to be vulnerable, too.

“How do you like the sound of Mrs. Munson? Or Ms.” He smiles. “Whichev-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

“I like the sound of that a lot.”

[schoopsahoy]

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift. 

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug. 

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist. 

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it. 

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth. 

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches. 

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves. 

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down. 

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze. 

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more. 

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen. 

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own. 

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park. 

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out. 

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car. 

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it. 

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you. 

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in. 

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him. 

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you. 

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of. 

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home. 

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?” 

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up. 

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled. 

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves. 

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you. 

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.” 

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin. 

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate. 

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.” 

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?” 

“Obviously, I get first dibs.” 

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that. 

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?” 

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring. 

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck. 

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you. 

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him. 

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.” 

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you. 

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?” 

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath. 

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy. 

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue. 

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there. 

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself. 

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little. 

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips. 

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it. 

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready. 

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens. 

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge. 

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising. 

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you. 

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you. 

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips. 

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen. 

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long. 

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin. 

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs. 

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy. 

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft. 

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit. 

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening. 

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows. 

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.” 

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.” 

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck. 

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out. 

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining. 

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts. 

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge. 

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again. 

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out. 

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric. 

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?” 

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

[okwonyo]

memories of heart.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ( 형들 ) + femreader （ ？） fluff established relationship warning not-proofread skinship kissing & 500 —⠀ bookshelf

notes. i'm so sleepy T^T

heeseung

arcade date: has always dreamed about going to this kind of dates; especially as the hopeless romantic as he is and how much he loves video games, the thought of playing a bunch of these with the one he loves makes him become red from cheerfulness. proud smile on his face, he is the type to win a plushie a prize for a game and offer it to you— “thank you for being here with me”

photobooth date: is beyond annoying about which poses you should do, claiming he wants the set of pictures to be perfect. ‘sit like that’s and ‘put your hand over here, baby’s before each flash, he makes you sit on his laps and hold you by the waist firmly. giving up on posing perfectly, he always and up giggling when you look at him for a slip second— hand slipping from the top of your thigh to right before the knee, you can see his cheeks growing red in the photography.

jongseong

stargazing date: prepares a whole picnic for the night, with your favorite flowers and dishes— made sure to put on the most romantic songs he has ever heard, with a couple of scented candles as-well.. whispers; “i think i love you too much, because..” he squeezes your hand, “in a sky full of stars, i will only ever see you” while you both watch the stars shining in the sky, he only watches them through your shiny eyes.

baking date: lets you tie the bow of his soft pink floral apron you bought for him for your six months anniversary. dots on you during the whole time, hand placed on your lower back as you put on glazing on the cute cake just made— leaning in as you does too, he might fall into it if he keeps on going. his favorite part is when you feed him some red and sugary strawberries.

jaeyun

lantern festival date: he takes you there after you told him you always wanted to go to one, mainly inspired by reponzel but also because you find the concept beautiful— and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. he holds the lantern as you put the candle in it, thinking you look so cute with that focused expression of yours. finds himself enjoying the rise of all the lanterns in the sky.

beach date: initially wanted to take a walk; claiming that the summer's warmth and clear sky was too beautiful to be missed. hand in hand, bumping shoulders when one of you says something funny, walking away from each other and coming back when the distance threatens to make your hands let go of each other. you end up both in the water at some point, clothes still on but barely even caring— he helps you float on your back, tries to kiss you under the salty water..

sunghoon

biking date: has spent weeks trying to find the perfect place to go biking together and made sure to do it when the weather starts being nice again. at some point, he starts biking close to you and with one single hand; trying to reach you with a stupid smile on his face, he loves cliche, you reach his hand and your fingers touch.. you hold hands for ten minutes before he almost falls.

auquarium date: running around the almost empty walls of the aquarium as you booked for the night session, looking at the fish wide headed as you swear it looks exactly like your boyfriend, holding hands while the blue hue kisses your skin tenderly— everything that makes an aquarium date one and are one your ‘date to do’ list, are the things you and him would do instinctively.

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches

[natimiles]

Gift (Jude x reader)

Summary: When you go out on a date with Jude and he can’t get you to pick something you want, he has to do something himself.

Words: 999

Tags: female reader; established relationship; sort of soft Jude; fluffy; spicy, but not really. HAPPY FLUDE DAY!

Notes: Yesterday was @dragon-liquorice anniversary with Jude and I wrote this for her! Happy Flude Day! :D

You walk on the sidewalk with your arms linked, watching the shop windows as you make your way to the restaurant he said he wanted to take you to. The sun sets, painting the sky in beautiful colors, and the day’s heat fades, making it the perfect weather for a date. The fact that Jude is miraculously not swamped with work tonight makes everything even better.

It’s a peaceful evening, and everything feels perfect — even if he’s now grumbling while you try to suppress a laugh.

“I’m telling you, I’m happy just being here with you,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“And I’m telling ya that ya should have somethin’,” he huffs. He’s practically pouting at this point, and it’s adorable to see him like this, but you’d never tell him that. “Anything!”

Every time you stop to look at something, he watches you like a hawk, ready to buy you the whole store if that’s what you want. And every time, you turn him down, saying you don’t want or need anything.

“We’re already having a nice dinner together. It’s more than enough for me that I can spend time with you.”

“Just pick something, and I’ll get it for ya.”

“Jude, I know how busy you are. I know this date is already a lot... and it’s too much to think that you’d make space for me in your busy schedule,” you mumble the last part, but he hears it.

Jude stops walking and turns to face you. “Yer ‘bout to pick a fight with me, princess,” he says, squinting his eyes at you. “I work too much, but I’ll always make space for ya. I’ll spend every minute I can with ya, and ya can’t say no to that.” He holds you by the waist, pulling you closer, pressing your bodies together as much as possible. “Yer mine.”

He kisses you, his lips demanding as ever, his tongue exploring your mouth, making you drown in his taste and scent. One of his hands moves to the back of your head when he senses you’re about to pull away. He knows you’re probably embarrassed by the passionate kiss in the middle of the sidewalk, but he doesn’t really care. Not tonight. He only stops when he’s out of breath, pulling away just enough to look at you with a smirk.

“Get it now?” He reaches for a lock of hair, tucking it behind your ear. You nod, but he sees in your eyes that you’re still insecure, and he knows you’ll be for a while. The only thing he can do is reassure you every time you feel like this, in his own Jude way. “I can give ya another kiss, a way more passionate one if that’s what ya need.”

“No! I mean, not here… I mean…” You flush, and his smirk deepens as he watches you stumble over your words.

“Heh! Not here, huh?” He hums, bringing his face closer to your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. “Later then, in our room.” His sadistic side surfaces as he revels in your cute reactions, watching you squirm in his arms.

“Jude…” you pout, and he kisses it away.

“Let’s keep goin’, then.”

He offers you his arm, and you take it as you both start walking again. You soon arrive at the restaurant, where Jude’s presence is enough for the maître to rush over and attend to you. You’re guided to a secluded table, the dim lighting casting a romantic glow. The restaurant is amazing, and everything goes smoothly with miraculously no one trying to kill Jude while you’re eating.

When you leave, he asks you to stay inside and wait while he finds a carriage to take you both back to Crown. The ride back is as calm as the rest of the night, and you arrive at the castle in no time.

You head straight to your shared bedroom, and Jude starts kissing you the moment the door closes. He continues until your lungs are burning and the only thing you can think of is him — though, to be fair, you already think of him constantly.

He guides you to the bed, flopping down and pulling you onto his lap. He bites your bottom lip, then pulls back to look you in the eyes. You think he’ll kiss you again, but he stays there, watching you for a moment. Just as you’re about to ask if something is wrong, he makes his move.

“Since the princess wouldn’t say what she wanted,” he says, reaching inside his coat and pulling out a book wrapped in a delicate ribbon. “I had to pick somethin’ myself.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the book and take it from his hand. It’s a new book about astronomy that you’ve wanted for a while but had run out of print before you could buy it last time. You’ve seen it earlier while walking around town with him and thought about going back another day to purchase it before it was gone again.

“How…”

“I pay more attention to ya than ya think,” he smiles smugly. “I saw yer eyes light up earlier. Ya stared at it with yer mouth wide open, almost droolin’.”

“That last part was unnecessary!”

“Not if it’s the truth,” he chuckles, watching you open the book and scan its contents with a radiant smile.

“When did you buy this anyway?”

“I wonder,” he evades the question. “Now,” he reaches for the book, snatching it from your hands and setting it aside. He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your chest. “Can I get yer attention back on me?”

It’s the most adorable sight you’ve ever seen of him, and you nod enthusiastically. Jude slides his hand to the nape of your neck and falls backward, pulling you with him. His lips are on yours the next second, and you know he won’t let you go anytime soon.

Taglist: @dragon-liquorice @valkyyriia @olivermorningstar

• @queengiuliettafirstlady @koco-coko @just-a-dodo

Masterlists

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 7 - Like Water

Read on AO3

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -

Contains: No Y/N (2nd POV but Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Lots more introspection

~4.3k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly nothing particularly bad happens this chapter either. Maybe we're rounding the corner on that.

John’s hand closes around yours, and he lets you draw him out into the rain.

He’s likely no stranger to getting rained on— It’s not hard to imagine him and his boys trudging through all manner of inhospitable climates, carrying heavy gear, on high alert for danger. But this is different. This is not about survival, not a mission with objectives to fulfill. It’s just the two of you.

John looks at you like you’re the moon and all the stars in the sky, like you can’t possibly be real. Every time he thinks he has a handle on you, you surprise him. You surprise yourself too.

You spin across the lawn until you’re dizzy and nearly stagger over. John catches you, steadies you, smiles back when you give him an unfocused grin. “Your turn,” you suggest. It would be good for him to shed his own burdens, let himself be childish, remind him that the world doesn’t have to weigh so heavy on his shoulders.

It can all be so much lighter together, somehow.

He spins twice, water sluicing off the brim of his hat, and then wraps himself around you, hoisting you into his arms to spin again, and again. You both laugh, clinging to each other tightly, and something in your chest unlocks, lets go for the first time in days. Maybe the first time in years.

You’re not afraid of him anymore.

John spins one too many times and overbalances, the two of you tipping over onto the wet grass, John uttering a soft “Fuck!” as he folds so that you land on top of him. You look down as he looks up, both of you still laughing, water dripping down your faces, catching in his eyelashes, the hat no protection at this angle. His eyes reflect back the stormy skies, turned almost gray in the early twilight.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he asks, pushing your wet hair back from your face. “I l— I like having you around.”

“I’m starting to like being around,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You lean down and kiss him, no more that a peck, tasting rainwater on his lips. “Lets go inside.”

It takes him a moment to register what you’ve said. The kiss, no more than the barest press of lips, has him stunned. There’s a part of you that’s stunned too, even at your own actions, even though it shouldn’t come as any surprise. You’ve known you would kiss him since the first time he kissed you, maybe since the moment that Ghost dumped you in his lap, you only thought it would take more time.

You thought everything would take more time, but John has his own gravity, a way of stretching moments into little eternities. It’s only been a few days really, but you feel like you know him. Like maybe you can trust him too.

He helps you to your feet, and you walk back to the shelter of the porch hand in hand. It feels like a new beginning for you both, something giving way between you. John has breached your once impenetrable walls, and you aren’t afraid, despite the imbalance. For all his overtures, it will be a long time before he offers himself up to you the way you must for him. John only wants to show you the best parts of his heart, but you’ll show him how to bleed, how to hold the shadows up to the light, how to hold space for all the things that make him who he is. He doesn’t have to chain up his demons like dogs out in the yard. All that hungers is starved for something denied it.

You will love all of him, or none of him. What hungers in you will settle for nothing less.

There has never been any room in your heart for settling for only parts of someone. The home you grew up in was filled with love and acceptance. Your parents loved each other, loved you unconditionally, respected each other, held space for the good and the bad, settled every argument with calm discussion. If you build a home with someone, it will be following that blueprint. If you ever do have children, you want to give them what you had.

Before you go inside, you scrub one of the towels over your head and toe off your shoes. John follows close on your heels.

“I’m going to get changed,” you say. “And then we can have tea, and talk? I think we might have some things to discuss.”

“Could run you a bath to warm up,” he offers. “Don’t want you getting sick.”

“Maybe later. Tea for now.” You move out of range before he can reach out for you, and hurry up the stairs. He wants to kiss you again— You can feel his want like the scorch of a wildfire, the heat of his eyes following you up the stairs. Only once you’ve closed the door to your room do you hear him on the stairs, his weighted footsteps just audible above the drumming of rain on the roof.

You strip off your wet clothes and stare into the closet with a grimace. You’d been wearing jeans and pullovers for the last few days, but you don’t want to pull denim on over your clammy thighs, and your only pair of sweatpants were in need of a wash even before you were taken here. Rude of the boys not to wait until after laundry day to kidnap you and upend your life. You’re not certain that wearing a cute, brightly coloured dress will be constructive, but it’s the majority of your wardrobe. The Kinsey kids had loved all your bright, swishy skirts, and it had made it easy for them to spot you when you went to pick them up from school, despite the fact that you’re so short. At least everything has a conservative hemline, coming down to mid-calf or to the ankle.

You find a blue t-shirt, a mustard coloured skirt and some tall socks that tie with a silky ribbon above the knee (and out of sight), and throw a cardigan over top of everything. It’s comfortable. You hope that John doesn’t read into it.

He steps out of his room the same time you open your door, and you meet in the narrow landing, looking at each other. He’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that clings to his still damp skin, his eyes warm as they travel down and back up to your face. Heat prickles over skin that was chilled just a moment ago. “You look nice,” he says. “You always do, but this is— I mean— You just look beautiful.” He rubs the back of his neck, boyish smile sheepish.

You feel like a teenager with her first crush. Without fear to hold you back, it’s so much harder to ignore the desire that burns the tips of your ears and drips like melted sugar into the pit of your stomach. “Thank you. You look, um. Fit.”

Both of you laugh, and the tensions breaks some, enough to get you both moving again. He heads back to the kitchen, reaching it just at the kettle starts to whistle. He busies himself making tea. “I’ll get started on dinner in a minute too— Figure tomorrow we can go to the shops, get your paints, get groceries. I won’t ask you to cook, but you might like different things than I usually get.” There’s an ease to his movements now, like he’s finally relaxing too. He’s been careful not to show it, but he’s been having a hard time getting used to this new reality, same as you.

When he sets the tea to the side to steep, you touch his arm gently. “Hey, John,” you say. He turns toward you, and you wrap your arms around his middle and hug him.

He curls around you instantly, pressing his face to the top of your head. “What’s this for?”

“Do I need a reason?”

His laugh reverberates through you. “S’pose not, Doll. I just want to know what I’m doin’ right so I can keep doin’ it.”

“Don’t worry so much. I know how hard you’re trying to make this easy.” You hum, breathing in the smell of laundry detergent and rainwater and John. “Well. Easier.”

“I want to keep you,” he mumbles against your hair. “Want you to want to stay.” The shiver of raw emotion surprises you. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” There’s an edge to his voice, desperation that cuts him to the bone. He’s been alone and lonely for a long time. Longer than he’s been here, certainly.

There’s slight resistance when you pull back, like he’s reluctant to let you out of his arms now that you’ve placed yourself in them, but he doesn’t hold on. You look up at him. “You don’t have to do anything, John. We’re just getting to know each other. Most people have the luxury of taking their time. We’ve kind of been thrown together, instead of, you know, going on dates like normal people.”

“Would you let me take you out? You already look so good, we could go somewhere nice.”

“What, right now? John, it’s pouring out there.”

He looked out the window, like he had forgotten the weather entirely. “It’s always raining. We don’t have to let that stop us.”

“Actually, I think we should,” you say firmly. “We can go out another night.”

His shoulders droop slightly as he pours two mugs of tea. “I know. It’s just— Today has been good. Really good. Don’t want that to stop.”

“We don’t need to go anywhere to make it a date. We can have dinner and a movie right here.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, accepting the mug of tea he offers you. “Sure. I’d like that. Let’s get started on dinner. What can I do to help?”

He doesn’t let you help much (something you’ll have to address at some point. He’s not a bad cook per-say, but you know you’re better), so you putter around and clean up your art supplies, arranging some candles on the table. You can feel his eyes on you, and when you turn he looks away, never fast enough to hide that ridiculous, hopeful smile, his blue eyes bright. Bad beginnings be damned. Maybe you can forget how it all started— It’s not like it’s his fault, is it? He didn’t ask for his former subordinates to kidnap him a companion. All he’s done is like you, and ask you to stay.

And Lola likes him. That has to count for something.

You sit next to him at dinner rather than all the way at the other end of the table. His knee rests against yours, and his eyes flicker in the candlelight as he watches you, satisfied by your nearness.

After dinner, he washes the dishes and you dry them and put them away, your arms brushing each other occasionally. It’s nice— Domestic and cozy, so easy to fall into a rhythm with him. You catch yourself daydreaming about making it work, wondering what that could look like, and his words from the first night come back to you in a rush. We’ll have to come up with a better story for our kids.

It had horrified you only a few days ago.

Now you’re not sure how you feel.

It’s so hard to keep your head on straight with this man. You almost miss the fear, it kept you smart, kept you wary, and now you’re considering throwing caution to the wind after one good day, thinking about how it might not be so bad to give him anything and everything he wants. To trust him blindly, implicitly, and hope for the best.

You pick some movie to watch, and sit on your little red couch with your legs stretched out instead of the big one where he could sit beside you. A little distance might help you clear your head some. He doesn’t say anything, but he moves closer before the movie is even halfway through, sitting on the floor next to you with his back against the couch. You shift a little closer and drape your arm over his shoulder, and try not to giggle when he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

The rest of the movie become background noise. You’re aware only of every point of contact along your arm, the way he holds your palm over his heart and rubs his thumb across your knuckles, the prickle of his beard through your sweater, the way he feels warm and solid when you shift closer still.

When the movie ends, neither one of you moves, until a question slips out of your mouth. “Have you ever been married, John?”

His head tilts back to look at you. The room is dark, barely illuminated by the scroll of white letters over a dark screen. He hesitates a moment before speaking. “Yeah. Once.”

“What happened?”

John sighs, his thumb tapping now. “We met at some party in London when we were teens. I had just turned eighteen, just graduated from the academy to the regular service, and we had this spark— I was head over heels for her so quickly. Always thought you could only fall in love like that when you’re eighteen. We got married when I was twenty but I wasn’t home much, got deployed just about right away. I don’t think she took things as seriously as I did. Can’t blame her, we were young, she was still getting her degree. I just didn’t realize how much we weren’t on the same page until she got pregnant.” His mouth set in a hard line under his moustache for a moment. “She didn’t want to be a mother, had bigger ambitions for herself. So I took a bit of leave, brought her to the clinic. It was what was best, probably for both of us, but I felt like the whole world had just fallen out from under me.”

“Oh.” You weren’t exactly sure what you had expected him to say. You bring your hand up to his opposite shoulder, half of a hug.

“I couldn’t blame her. Wanted to, but she had the right. I wasn’t home enough. Wouldn’t’ve been right for me to beg her to change her mind. But that was the end. We both walked out of that clinic knowin’ it.” He tucks his chin into the crook of your elbow for a moment, breathing raggedly. It’s not until you feel the hot splash of tears on your arm that you realize that he’s crying, and trying very hard not to.

“Oh. Oh, John, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” You swing your legs down and kneel beside him, pulling him into your arms. “It’s so hard to do the right thing sometimes, isn’t it?”

John wrangles you into his lap like it’s nothing and presses his face to your shoulder, just breathing. You stroke his hair, making soothing sounds while he gets himself centred again. “Fuck. ‘M sorry, Doll. Didn’t want you to see me like this.” His arms loosen enough for you to pull away and look at him in the darkness.

“You’re not a fortress, John. You’re just a man. It’s okay to cry.”

“Haven’t seen you cry,” he says. “Even after everything. You’ve kept it all together.”

“No I haven’t. I just cry in the shower so you won’t hear me.” You pat his cheek, wiping away an errant tear with your thumb. “Didn’t want to break down in front of you, knew you’d fix me up. Wasn’t sure if I could trust you.”

“Wasn’t?” he asks hopefully. “Do you trust me now?”

“We’re getting there. It takes time, John.”

He huffs, a rueful smile taking over. “I know it does. Guess I’m still impatient. Want to kiss you for bein’ so sweet, makin’ everything so much better. But I won’t rush you along.”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Every minute since I met you. Haven’t I been obvious about that?”

You shake your head, laughing. “No, I mean right now. I would like to, if you’re—” You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence, because he cuts you off with a kiss, your request breaking through his restraint like water through a dam. He starts soft, cupping your face delicately, and when you kiss him back it turns languid, possessive, his tongue sliding against yours, head tipped to the side so he can get even closer.

He breaks the kiss to rearrange you in his lap so that you’re straddling his hips, legs spread wide to accommodate the size of him. Now you really wish that you’d worn jeans, just to have an extra layer of fabric separating you. This feels dangerous, like playing with fire, but you ignore the warning and let him pull you back in again, threading your fingers into his thick, soft hair.

His hands are everywhere now, sliding under your cardigan and feeling out all your softest places, the rolls above your hips, your plush thighs, gripping the curve of your ass to notch your hips closer together. He steals your breath when you let out a shuddering gasp, licking into your mouth. His want makes you dizzy— You’re not sure if anyone has kissed you like John does, like he needs you more than air. It’s frightening, but it sets a fire in your blood that could consume you in a moment if you let it. You want to burn up, let go, watch all the things that hold you back blow away like ashes on the wind.

But you’ve always been more like water.

John kisses down your throat, but he surfaces a moment later when you freeze in his arms. He sighs, thumb brushing across your jaw. “You’re not ready for this.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t be. I don’t want you to push yourself, not when it comes to this. Don’t let me get ahead of myself, Doll.”

You nod. “I’ll try.”

He kisses you again, just softly, sweetly, slowly. And then he lets you go.

John’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives down the road. The countryside that passes by is muted, brown and gold fields, farm houses, fence posts, animals, and you see it without really paying it much mind, half focused on the texture of John’s hand under your own, the rough scars on his knuckles, the dusting of hair, the way his musculature fits together, the crooked fingers that didn’t quite set right. You can feel him smiling— He hasn’t stopped since you asked if it would be alright to go to Aberdeen, to an art store you used to go to with your mum. It’s further away, a long enough drive that you felt silly for asking, but John insisted that he didn’t mind.

Maybe he means it when he says he’ll do anything to make you happy. It’s strange, and you feel like you haven’t earned that, but it’s nice too.

Part of you is still thinking about last night, about kissing him. You feel the imprints of his hands everywhere he touched you, as though branded onto your skin. There’s a tension, although you’re not certain if it’s real, or if it’s just the slight burn of shame for the way you touched yourself after, once you’d said goodnight, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep yourself silent and the other between your legs. You haven’t been to church in a long time, but it’s hard to shake Catholic guilt even now.

You press your thighs together at the memory, and very pointedly don’t look at John. It’s better if you can believe that he doesn’t notice the effect he has on you. It saves you a little embarrassment.

Although there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about, is there? He’s not very good at hiding his own attraction, if he’s even trying. You both know it’s mutual now. It is what it is.

Once you reach the outskirts of Aberdeen, you give him directions on how to get to the art story. It looks exactly the same as you remember, even though it’s been at least a decade since you’ve been there. It’s like walking into a memory, the smell of paper and paint and the slight dusty smell of a shop with slow turnover tickling your nose. If you close your eyes, you can slip back in time, to when you came here with both your parents. You hadn’t lived far off, so you walked there on nice days, and your dad would sit on the bench outside with Rob Roy, the big dog flopped over on his feet. Sometimes you’d sit with him, when your mother got talking to the woman that worked there, but you always looked at everything first, from the shelves of ink bottles that shone like precious gems, the copic markers, every colour imaginable laid out in neat rows, the tubes and bottles of paints. You loved to touch the brushes, feel the different types of bristles. Back then the softest, swishiest brushes were your favourites, but you’d grown to prefer a hard flat brush once you’d started developing your own style.

“Are you alright?” John asks, touching your shoulder, dragging you back to the present.

You must look so foolish, standing just inside the door with your eyes closed. “I’m fine,” you say quickly. “Just remembering.”

“You know, if you ever want to talk—”

“Oh, good morning. Was thinkin’ I imagined the bell.” A friendly, round-faced woman comes bustling out from between the narrow shelves. She looks at you for a long moment, running her hand through her short-cropped grey hair. “You’re Angie’s girl.”

You nod. “Um. Yes.” You hadn’t expected to be recognized.

She steps forward and hugs you tight. “Christ almighty, s’good ta see you. Back in town ta see your gran, are you?”

“Not today. I recently moved back to the area. Not in town. Out a ways. Just wanted to come out here.”

“She’s getting back into painting, but she needs some supplies,” John chimes in.

The woman— Faye, if you remember right— studies John briefly, and then looks back at you, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Found yourself a big, handsome fellow, did you?”

“I needed one that could get things off the top shelf for me,” you joke. “He has his uses.”

Faye chuckles. “I’m sure he does. D’you just need paint, sunshine? Or brushes, supports— Your mam like gesso boards, are you the same? We still carry the brand of oil paints she liked. Know you used acrylic when you were a girl, but…”

You start talking, and John wanders off through the store, looking around at everything. Can he feel the ghosts here too? You hope that if souls do cling to the earth, that they haunt the places that they loved, and not the ones where they died. You’d hate to think of you mother trapped amongst the flux of strangers traveling through Piccadilly Circus, or your father in some London hospital. You’d rather think of them together, here, or in the little house they’d moved to in Manchester, or on some beach in Barcelona, where they met.

“You’re a lot like her, you know,” Faye says when she rings it all up, tucking everything into the box that sits on the counter between you. John’s in the middle of carrying some canvas and boards out to the truck, already tallied up.

The observation surprises you. You’ve always seen more of your father in you. “You think so?”

Faye nods, smiling warmly. “It’s the way you talk. Some of your mannerisms. Even the way you dress, all those bright, beautiful dresses. Angie’s definitely your mam, and she’d be so proud of who you’re becomin’.” She winks as John re-enters the shop. “She might not have loved your Englishman, though. Doesna seem a bad sort, but he’s still English.”

You laugh, but it’s a bit watery. John wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders while he pays, a funny smile on his face. When the two of you settle back into the truck, he watches you for a long moment as you run your fingers over the business card Faye gave you. “What?” you ask, sneaking a glance back.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You took me here.”

“No, I mean— This place means a lot to you. I’m glad you asked. It was well worth the trip to see you smile like that, talkin’ about things I don’t understand in the least.” He reaches over and squeezes your knee. “I don’t mean to pry, Doll, but what happened to your parents?”

“I don’t want to ruin the rest of the day. Let’s not talk about that right now.” You tuck the card into your pocket and buckle your seat belt. “It’s still hard to talk about.”

He nods and backs out of the tight parking lot carefully, his hand leaving your knee to brace against the back of your seat when he turns to look. “In your own time, Doll. It just clearly hurts you and I— Well, I guess I can’t help, but I can at least listen, when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, John,” you say. “We’ll get there.”

There’s a lightness in you now, like you pulled open the curtains and opened the windows in a room long left dark and closed off. It feels good to open up. It feels good to look back, for the first time in ages, like you’re returning to some vital part of yourself, an oxbow lake reconnecting to the river, sediment washing away what kept you apart.

And it’s different— You aren’t the same person you were a week ago, let alone a decade, but that’s a good thing too. You’ve been afraid to change, worried that the years would turn you into someone that your parents wouldn’t recognize.

But you carry them with you. And you aren’t afraid to change anymore.

Image Credits: Banner Dividers

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

[silverflqmes]

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

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[mothfables]

Legend Meets Groose

Legend has been having a good day.

They’re in Sky’s era, taking the day off to relax in his surface home. Legend had decided he even felt alright enough to regress, so with the others’ encouragement he dressed in some of his comfiest clothes and settled on the floor in the main room to play.

He’s feeling particularly small today, so instead of his usual chewy necklace he has a teether- made by Sky and Wild just for him. His brothers don’t feel comfortable letting him have his necklace when he’s this small, something about a choking hazard (which he personally thinks is silly, but whatever), so the teething ring it is.

He doesn’t mind — the ring itself is solid but squishy enough it feels good between his teeth, secured by a small wooden bunny (carved by Sky) that’s nice to rub his fingers over. Legend won’t admit it, but it might be one of his favourite items when he’s small.

He’s playing a game with Wind, something simple but fun that helps him settle comfortably into his headspace. He hums and squeaks happily, feeling content and safe with his brothers here with him. His mind is calm and soft and he feels himself sink a little deeper.

Everything is fine.

Of course, that’s when things decide to take a turn.

The door opens with a bang! that makes him jump. In comes one of the largest men he’s ever seen.

“LINK! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE BACK!!!”

Legend freezes. Distantly, he registers his teether falling out of his mouth and to the floor with a muted thud. Somewhere in his mind he knows who this is, but all he can focus on is how big the man is, and how loud, and how scary.

The stranger turns away, maybe to talk to Sky, and Legend takes the chance to bolt.

He scrambles to his feet, aiming for the hallway he faintly remembers Sky mentioning holds the bedrooms. The first door he tries refuses to open. Frantic, he throws himself at the next one he sees. This one opens easily under his hand and he tosses himself through - barely remembering not to slam it behind himself. He sweeps a panicked gaze over the room before diving under the bed in the far corner.

He shoves himself as far back as he can, startling when he hits the wall. He curls up, bringing a hand to his mouth and biting down. He has to be quiet. He has to stay hidden. He has to-

The door opens.

—————————

Groose hurries toward the house he shares with Link and Zelda. Link is back and he didn’t tell him!

Obviously such a thing must be corrected immediately!

He finally reaches the house and without thinking bursts through the door. Inside he sees Link, as well as the group of heroes he’s been traveling with. “LINK! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE BACK!!!”

Some of them flinch at his volume and he winces. “Oops! Sorry, got a bit excited there, haha.”

Link laughs and moves to wrap Groose in a hug. “Hey! I was just about to go find you and tell you we were back!” He pouts up at him and Groose claps him on the back with a grin.

He goes to tease his best friend but is interrupted by a quiet patter of footsteps and the faint creak of a door.

“Uh, hey guys?” Groose turns around to see one of the smaller boys kneeling on the floor with a worried look on his face. “Lege just ran.”

Worried exclamations sound before Link steps over to the boy and joins him on the floor. “What happened, Wind?”

“We were playing and then Groose came in and he got spooked, I think. As soon as he looked away Lege ran that way,” Wind points towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Link worries his lip.

“Sorry, Groose,” he offers an apologetic smile. “I guess I should’ve warned you-”

“Aw, don’t worry about it. It’s my fault for comin’ in without knocking. Not surprised I spooked at least one of ya.” Groose waves him off.

Link looks like he wants to argue but Groose shakes his head and moves towards the hallway. He needs to apologize to the little guy, and he only hopes he doesn’t scare him further.

He hears worried muttering behind him but ignores it in favour of figuring out which door the missing hero might have gone through.

Link and Zelda’s door is locked, since Link’s been on his quest and Zelda’s been out doing some surveys to find the best places for building new houses and farms. So that strikes that as a potential place to hide. Groose turns and notices his own door is slightly open.

…He’s sure he closed it when he left this morning. The little guy must be in there then.

Groose is careful as he opens the door and peeks inside. It’s empty upon first glance, and he almost leaves to continue searching the rest of the house before his eyes land on his bed and-

Oh.

That makes sense.

As quietly as he can, he slips inside, making sure to leave the door open a crack. He makes his way over to the bed and sinks down to sit beside the nightstand - that way there’s plenty of room for a frightened hero to make an escape if needed.

There’s no sound besides his own breathing and for a minute he worries he’s got the wrong room; that the little guy isn’t in here after all. Then - the tiniest, squeakiest sound he’s ever heard. It sounds a bit like a remlit sneezing, only a thousand times cuter.

“Bless you,” he says on reflex. There’s a tiny startled sound. “Ah- right. Sorry for scaring you earlier. I was excited to see Link again and just rushed in. I forgot you guys would be here too.”

No response from the hero under the bed. That’s okay. Groose is content to wait; sometimes it would take Link hours to stop being scared when something triggered him. He wouldn’t be surprised if these other heroes were similar. Worse comes to worse, he can go get one of the others and let them help the poor guy.

A few more minutes pass before he hears the shuffling of fabric, like someone is crawling. Then pink appears, followed by grey, and soon there’s an entire hero kneeling at the other end of Groose’s bed, watching him apprehensively from under soft pink hair.

The kid’s dressed in a soft grey woolen dress and leggings coloured in a mix of muted pinks and blues. He looks like he’s ready to spend a nice relaxing day at home; Groose feels a little bad for potentially ruining that with his sudden arrival.

He sends the little guy a warm smile. “Seems like you’re feelin’ a little better, huh?”

He gets a shy nod in response. The kid’s clutching the blanket in one hand while the other creeps towards his mouth. The action reminds Groose of the little kids back on Skyloft - how they’d cling to their parents’ clothes and chew their own tiny fingers. He feels a sudden urge to tell him to stop, get him something else to chew on, but he’s not sure it would be welcomed.

Instead, he shifts to face him, leaning back against the bed with another smile.

“Say, you see anything cool on your travels?”

The kid lights up.

—————————

Sky is pacing the living room, wringing his hands and constantly glancing back at the hallway Groose disappeared down.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Groose; he does, really he does. But he doesn’t know about Legend’s regression. Sky had planned to mention it to him when he went to get him, but then Groose had taken it upon himself to find him, and then-

Well.

Here they are.

So here he is, pacing a hole in his carpet as he worries about his best friend and his little brother and everything that could be going wrong.

The only reason he didn’t immediately take off after Groose is because he knows, for all he seems big and goofy and not all that bright, Groose is smart and clever and much better at handling situations like this than he appears. Sky remembers the many, many panic attacks and meltdowns, and how Groose did his best to be there for all of them; providing support and a steady shoulder to lean on- and cry on, as was often the case.

So, though he’s close to chewing his nails down to the quick with worry, he chooses to wait and let his friend do what he does best.

It’s only when he can’t wait any longer that he spins towards the hallways and makes to march down it. He’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder and nearly snaps his teeth into it before registering something is being held out to him. Blinking, he realizes it’s Legend’s teether. Following the hand holding it up and back, he sees Warriors behind him.

“I figured he might want it, so I washed it while you were busy putting a new track in your carpet.”

Sky inhales, holds it, then exhales; it’s only a little shaky. Taking the teether from Wars, he smiles gratefully. “Thanks. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Wars returns it with his own small smile before squeezing his shoulder and stepping away.

Feeling a little calmer now, Sky heads down the hall. Groose’s door is slightly open, so that’s where he goes. He goes to open it but pauses at the sound of voices; one deep and warm, the other high and soft. Neither sounds angry or upset, which lifts a bit more weight off his shoulders.

Pushing open the door, Sky is greeted by the sight of Legend sitting cross-legged on the floor at the end of Groose’s bed: he’s rocking and waving his hands as he babbles eagerly to an intently-listening Groose. His best friend is also on the floor, leaning against the bed with a warm smile on his face as he watches the boy talk.

“-bunnies go hop-hop!” Legend tells Groose, who nods and makes an intrigued sound. “They also like to, um- t’ eat lots an’ lots of plants! They can’t have too many carrots, though, cause they coul’ get sick. Eve- even though ev’ryone says th’t’s what bunnies eat. An’ they- um, they also like t’ burrow! Th’t’s when they dig an’ dig lots of tunnels an’ rooms t’ live in an-”

He breaks off when he sees Sky, immediately reaching for him with an excited “‘ky!”

“Hi, baby!” Sky coos, kneeling down to draw his little brother into his lap. Legend goes easily, tucking close and grasping at Sky’s shirt with a happy sound.

“Ohhh, you’re little little, huh baby?” Legend hums in answer, squishing his face against Sky’s neck. Sky coos and cuddles him some more. After a moment he remembers he’s still holding the teether and nudges Legend until he looks up, then lets him grab it and eagerly pull it to his mouth.

Groose clears his throat. Pulling his attention away from his baby brother, Sky sees him glancing between the two of them, brows pinched in confusion. “Uh… not to be rude or anything, but… Can you explain what’s going on? Why’s the little guy, uh, ‘little?’”

Oh, right. Sky had been going to explain it before everything happened. Well, no time like the present.

He clears his throat and shifts so he’s sitting a little more comfortably. “Right, so, essentially… You know how hard my quest was on me, right?” Groose nods. “Well, Lege had six of them, that we know of. This is his seventh. And he… he started really young. So, to cope with everything, his brain goes back to being a kid sometimes. And sometimes even younger than that.”

“…So it helps? The- the ‘being small’ thing?” Groose’s expression is a mix of worry, sadness, and dawning understanding.

“Yeah.”

“And you all take care of him when he’s like this?” Sky nods and Groose leans back with a thoughtful sound.

“Well… Can’t say I totally get it, but he seems to be doing alright. And he’s got you lookin’ out for him, so he’s got nothing to worry about.”

Sky’s chest warms at Groose’s faith in him even as he blushes, flustered, and hides his face in Legend’s hair. The little boy coos and reaches up to clumsily pat his head in an attempt at comfort; Groose chuckles as Sky groans dramatically. He nuzzles his little brother’s hair and presses a kiss to it to show he’s not mad, and Legend squeaks happily, cuddling closer.

[suraemoon]

Dad!John Egan Headcanons

🧡: Here are a bunch of thoughts about Bucky as a father (Specifically to a bunch of girls because this man gives me major girl dad vibes and that’s what I was most inspired by) My inbox is always open for requests.

🧸 Inaccuracy warning: I mention pregnancy tests and a quick google search has informed me that pregnancy tests did not exist in the forties. I’m not gonna make the reader pee on a frog (yes that was an actual method back then) so I’m simply gonna keep that part in. Please forgive me in advance.

————————————————————————

You, the newly wedded wife of Major John Egan, found out you were pregnant on a warm July evening

After a few days of extreme nausea and bedridden reflection over the wild memories of a thoroughly exciting and all fulfilling honeymoon, you had rising suspicions over the cause of your ailment

A concerned John Egan simply could not stop himself pacing around any room you were in, always on standby for when his wife might need him

Bucky did not want to automatically assume you were pregnant

Despite having to wake up frequently throughout the night to become a designated hair holder while you vomited into the nearest toilet

For your husband simply didn’t know if it’d be considered rude or not to assume

So he rode out the waves with his dear wife, whispering reassurance while all the food emptied her stomach, offering a firm arm to hold onto when she stood up too fast and needed to be steadied

Finally, you decided to take a test; wanting to give all these internal questions a confirmed answer

There was also a desire to put your poor husband at ease by uttering the not-at-all-anxiety inducing words, “Don’t worry, Bucky. I’m not dying. I’m pregnant.”

And pregnant you were

Shaky hands held a positive pregnancy test on a scene that, even decades later, you can never fail to recall; a few moments of silence ensued as you stared at the test, making sure that your eyes were not deceiving you and the world indeed wasn’t playing on of it’s trick.

Meanwhile, Bucky was keeping himself occupied by walking back and forth on the stone path that ran through the front lawn

His hands were in his pockets, waiting patiently for you to finish your business and come out of the house

The two of you take daily walks, a designated time for watching the glistening sun start to rest in it’s cozy blanket that is the night sky

Strolling down the concrete sidewalk hand-in-hand while calmly reflecting on the events of each day

Your mind was thoroughly racing in that bathroom, filled with a gallery of intense thoughts

But the moment you exited through the front door and ran into Bucky’s arms, clutching a pregnancy test close to your chest, all words seemed to escape you

You nervously handed it to him and watched how his eyes widened at the sight of the two lines, his signature smile tugged at his lips until he was grinning ear to ear

“This is real, baby? You ain’t joking with me? Oh my God…”

Immediately, he picked you up and span you around in excitement as you giggled in his arms

Once he put you, the sunshine of his life, back down on the ground after your miniature orbit, his soft lips made themselves a home and kissed all over your darling face

“Ever since I met you, you’ve made me the happiest, luckiest man in the world.”

As long as he has you, he has everything he ever needs

And now you two get to bring a new blessing into the world

A perfect little darling who is half you, half Bucky

Created by the fruition of pure love and raised by a couple who possess hearts full of adoration from the moment they discover the existence of their creation

Every evening from that day forward, he covers every square inch of your growing belly with kisses

He whispers to his little one between pecks with his lips against the soft skin of your belly

“We’ve got a little ball player in there, hm? Gonna be a Yankees infielder one day?”

He’d lay down beneath you with his head against your belly

Purposefully trying to make you laugh, just to see the funny but beautiful jiggle of your stomach

Praising you for how amazing you are, just to see your pretty face light up at all of the compliments

“You’re growing a whole life in ya. Nothing I’ve done is as brave as that. The strongest girl I know, my girl. Mine, mine, mine.”

Bucky is such a girl dad and all of his girls are daddy’s girls through and through

You give birth to your first little one and she’s so tiny swaddled in his arms, the sun shining softly through the hospital room windows.

A little while later, newly acquainted father and daughter are in complete bliss while relaxing in the lounge chair at the corner of the hospital room

He’s shirtless and she’s laying on his chest

He’s adoringly whispering to her but it’s in an octave so soft that only him and his little girl can hear. The most beautiful little secrets that will stay between them forever.

You get a lot of attention post birth too. He’s thanking you, telling you how strong you are, how you’ve changed his life forever, you’re the love of his life, he loves you, he loves you, oh how he loves you.

The second baby comes not too soon after the first and it’s another little girl

Baby number three is another girl

The fourth little darling has plenty of bright eyed big sisters waiting for her at home

There’s a drawer full of hand-me-downs but there is also an array of brand new stuff because every baby is her own person. They all get the same amount of preparation, dedication, love, and care.

Did he used to dream about having a son? Sure.

But girls make amazing little baseball players

And dads make amazing fairy princesses

Bucky becomes very accustomed to tea parties, glitter, sparkles, and having his nails sloppy painted

Pigmented eyeshadow used as blush, contour, and foundation all in one

Some days he gets weird looks when walking around in public, unaware to the fact that his nails are still messily painted in various shades of purple from last night’s beauty salon shenanigans

Handing the cashier some money at the grocery store (his wallet has a photo of all of his girls) and for some reason the rest of the line has gone quiet. “What? I’m not the first person to pay for food here, right?”

Little does he know that him and the lady standing line behind him have matching manicures

You help him rub it off with some rubbing alcohol later that day, knowing it is most likely going to be replaced in a bright, sparkling new color sooner than later

Once you two start having children, it’s hard to get a night alone

As the moonlight hours go on, the bed indents frequently throughout the AMs as more and more little Egans climb into you and Bucky’s bed

Blankies and stuffed animals grasped in their little hands as they gravitate towards the body of warmth that is their peacefully sleeping father

The next morning, when the sun’s warm light starts to flood through the windows and the birds outside have started to chirp a morning’s greeting into the blue sky, you wake up to a family reunion

There is a little girl snoring with her head on Bucky’s chest, they have matching pair of parted mouths and a father-daughter set of similar sounding snores

A dark haired toddler is curled like a kitten at the foot of the bed, her white nightgown resembling the soft baby blanket she was first swaddled in as a newborn all those years ago

You can hardly sit up to see where the rest of the Egans have ended up because John has a strong arm around your waist, he’s been petting your silk nightie ever since you first put it on last evening

As you look at the clock on the nightstand to see what time it is, for some reason there is a three year old curled up on the floor, sleeping under her baby blanket. Who knows how that happened.

On the days where your blue birds don’t wander into your comfy nest at night but instead manage to stay fast asleep in their own beds, expect a stampede in the morning

Their adamant on doing anything to wake Bucky up

One is pulling the sock off of his foot, another is brushing a finger through his eyelashes

His pink cheek gets poked, his eyes get prodded at, and the bed turns underneath turns into a trampoline

But John does not wake up angry, it is quite the opposite

He has his signature cheeky smile, pulling the kids in for morning kisses and hugs as they giggle in his strong hold

He reaches over the Egan pile to give you a kiss on the lips with a soft “good morning, honey” in the raspy morning voice that makes you swoon every time

The Egan girls do not stay asleep for long, they are full of energy and ambition, creativity and fun

There’s been countless instances where Bucky has been the number one victim…I mean, playmate for their shenanigans

He puts on a silly British accent, one that he had to have learned back in the pub at Thorpe Abbots, and is always dedicated to whatever role the girls have given him to play

“Care for some tea, m’lady?” as his oversized hand holds onto a tiny porcelain teapot, pouring some air flavored tea into miniature pink teacups

The Egan house is full of tutus and dresses, teddy bears and baby dolls

A kindergartner tries her hardest to put an earring in his ear, unaware of the fact that his earlobes are indeed not pierced

“Owww. At this point ya might as well get a needle and poke a real hole in it, that’s what this feels like. The jabbing hurts, dolly.”

“A needle? That’s how ya do it?”

“No, no. Wait-”

“You're gonna look soooo pretty, daddy.” She runs as fast as her little legs will take her.

Don’t worry, she does not manage to get her hand on one of your sewing needles. Those are kept up high, away from the tiny little fingers. Bucky’s virgin earlobes manage to live another day.

Picture the image of him laying down on the living room lounge chair with a pile of little Egan girls on top of him, sleeping peacefully like cute kittens.

He smooths their dark hair, and whispers just like he did when each of them were growing in your womb, just like he did when each of them were swaddled little newborns fresh from the hospital

He doesn’t tolerate anyone who makes a backhanded comment about his girls

When you have a car full of little girls, people feel the need to put in their two cents about your family

When you were pregnant with your second? “Let’s hope it’s a little boy. A girl and a boy would be perfect for you two.’

A few years later, you’re strolling down the street with a little girl holding each hand and a swollen pregnant belly displayed by your pretty maternity dress when you receive the backhanded comment by a passerby: “Is the little boy cooking right now? You want someone to pass the last name onto, don’t ya?”

It’s when you have three or more that the “I’m so sorry”s and “You must be disappointed”s start rolling in.

One day, you got back from taking the kids to the grocery store

The moment you see Bucky, all of the Egan girls run to hug him

It’s not long before he has a little girl clinging to one of his legs, one with her arms around his neck, another holding his hand with no intent of letting go

You quietly recounted to him later in the day how the grocery store cashier remarked upon glancing at all the pink, “Your poor husband. You refuse to give him a boy, huh?”

Bucky was ready to drive to the grocery store and give that worker a piece of his mind

He has healthy, happy kids. What’s there to be poor about?

Bucky is protective of his family, even before little Egan’s got added to the family, he’s always been protective of you

If someone ever bothers you, makes you uncomfortable or says something bad about you, he has to confront them

even though if you insist over and over again that it’s no big deal

You two have always served as an inspiration to your girls, a model of a healthy and happy couple

They grew up with a father who is wholeheartedly enamored with the woman he loves

They mature into women who were raised to expect nothing less in their own men

And if they ever forget their worth, they have Bucky Egan right there to remind him

“Don’t waste your tears over him, dolly. You’ve always been a strong, beautiful girl. Ain’t no dumbass highschooler is gonna change that.”

John Egan is the comfiest, more secure shoulder to cry on

He wipes his little girl’s tears and smooths her hair while she cries

He tries to make her laugh with a dumb joke or two

“I knew just by the way that kid walked that that fool was no good. Strolled around with his nose in the air like a…I don't know, a cockatiel? Mhm, a cockatiel. Had his hair done up like one too.”

“Daddd. What’s that even supposed to mean?” Her voice is still shaky and her hold on him is still tight.

“That he aint good enough for my daughter, that’s what.”

Seeing his children sad is one of the things that absolutely breaks him, he’ll mope around the house worried sick until he knows that they’re feeling better

Let’s just say that the next time John Egan comes across the boy who made his daughter cry, that kid does not have the nerve to come near her ever again

That kid shivers when he hears the name “Egan” because of the stern talking to he had after school that one day

“You’re lucky that you’re a dumbass child. But kid or not, that bullshit won’t fly. Ever. Hurt my daughter again, utter her name even, and you’re getting punched in the fucking mouth. That’s a promise, not a threat. Trust me.”

He’d implore the newspaper boy to do it

And the kid would

Because it’s Bucky Egan

The cool dad everyone wishes they had

And someone managed to get on his bad side? They deserve what is coming.

If his daughter is a little older and it’s an actual grown man that breaks her heart? Yeah, that dude actually gets the pleasure of being sucker punched across the face by John Egan himself.

But eventually his little girl’s do find their soulmate, men who treat them right

Bucky can’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as he walks one of his beloved children down the church aisle, processing the fact that his little girl isn’t so little anymore

He makes sure to keep a handkerchief on him because there is no doubt in his mind that it will be needed throughout the whole ceremony

It does not truly sink in for Bucky that his girls are growing up until he sees them dolled up in gorgeous white dresses, their faces radiating happiness and joy for the biggest day of their lives

Handing her over to her new husband while light shines through stained glass church windows, family and friends gathered in the pews

and her hand is just as delicate as it was all those years ago when a newborn baby first grasped her dad’s finger

And he promised to love her and protect her for eternity

Emotional father-daughter dances— holding her close while singing the lyrics to a sentimental song, the same one he used to sing to her as a bedtime lullaby all those years ago

He twirls his little angel, all dressed up in tulle and lace

The whole day is full of reminiscing to the past

“Remember how chaotic our house used to be, honey?” He’d whisper to you after the ceremony with a dry laugh and a shake of his head

And chaotic it was

You remember how Bucky would rangle them all up for bathtime, like an oversized border collie herding a pack of tiny lambs

When you try to help him by catching a running toddler in your arms, Bucky immediately puts his hand on your shoulder and stops you

Gently taking your hand in his and leading you to the nearest place to sit, “Sit back and relax, honey. You’ve been working around the house all day. Dad’s in charge of baths today, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”

After some reluctance, you ultimately agree to stay uninvolved, but even though you are sat down, you do not stay unentertained

You watch as Bucky holds a kid upside down in his left arm while scooping up another rowdy toddler in his right

Your middle child jumps on his back, holding onto his neck like Jack climbing the beanstalk

It’s moments like that, seeing your husband’s joyful smile while little ones cling onto him like rambunctious monkeys, that you remember why you made John Egan a father

Moments like that make you grateful that you had the privilege of helping him become a dad because...wow is he meant for it

He shines most when around your littles and it’s clear for anyone with eyes to notice that

After an hour, all the kids were bathed and powdered and dressed in comfy nightgowns

You couldn’t help yourself from giggling as John let himself fall back onto the couch with a drenched shirt and bubbles shining in his dark curls

That night you two took a well needed, candlelit bath of your own

It was nothing short of romantic. John rubbed your feet as compliments and praises started to fall from his lips

“I really don’t know how you manage to do all of that when I’m gone, sugar.”

You lean your head back against the tub while responding in a calm voice, “It’s a lot. That’s why I wanted to help you get ‘em in the bath. We’re a team. A unit.”

“Mhmm.” His hand leaves your foot and makes its way to your soft calf, lifting your leg out of the water. He gives the leg a resting place on his broad shoulder, turning his head in order to easily be able to leave a trail of deep kisses on your skin. The kisses stop when you hear a raspy whisper from his lips, “Just wanted to give you a break is all. You know, sometimes I wake up wondering where those kids get all that goddamn energy from.”

“Oh honey, I wonder who they get it from…”

It was years following the birth of your youngest girl—when all of the newborn clothes, blankets, and bibs were finally folded away into the attic with no little one to make use of them any more—that a surprise happens

All of the kids have started and settled into school at this point, leaving some extra freetime during the day…

It’s a boy

He’s the baby of the family

Waddling around in tiny blue overalls and muddied baseball jerseys

Smiling wide twin dimples adorning each of his rosy cheeks

On sunny days, he rides on his father’s shoulders in the backyard while Bucky makes airplane sounds with his mouth, pretending to be the B-17 that’s flying his little boy through the air

He grows up to be so similar to his father, it’s uncanny

The same characteristics, the same smile, the same sense of humor, the same bountiful heart, the same love for baseball

He is not given any favoritism for being the only boy

Every child is different and treated as their own unique human being, raised with the same love and core values no matter the gender

Another lucky girl gets to have her own Egan

And if all of those years spent raising your son into being the best human he can be did him any good, you couldn’t be happier for her

————————————————————————

Ahhhh, I hope you enjoyed. Finally, I’m writing again. I’ll admit that I’m a little rusty but that’s fine. I’m the only one who reads over this stuff, so sometimes I’m afraid that when I post my incomprehensible rambling…it looks like incomprehensible rambling. My inbox is open for requests, comments, and anything else you want to chat about! I like talking to people! :)

[bonefall]

I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".

Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"

Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)

Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say

Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.

I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.

In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.

If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.

But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.

Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.

"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."

It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.

...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.

(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)

[cateyesinlove]

MY Narnia hyper fixation coming back in 2024 the year of our lord and Savior Aslan- Jesus Christ? Yes, very likely.

This is just a small what if mixed with AU prince Caspain movie

Narnia; What if Peter had a Spouse

Gn significant other for Peter

I am an enthusiast of angst so I cannot help to think about how many lovers Lucy and Edmund probably left behind in Narnia( I usually imagine Lucy being pan and poly and Edmund being bi since I mean we all saw the movies 😏 bombastic side eye!) what if Susan had been engaged to a good man who cared for her and it was a good alliance, someone she saw herself loving some day and of course if Peter had been married.

It was a normal day in Cair Paravel when the Siblings never came back from their hunt. Peters's spouse was hosting the weekly tea with their sibling's partners when a frantic fawn ran into the room to inform them that the kings and queens had disappeared

how Peter's spouse was the person everyone else went to when the Pevensies didn't show up after a week, and how they were now in charge of Narnia since they were now King/ Queen Regent.

How they have to deal with the distraught significant others of the Pevensies and have to watch Lucy's girlfriend/s searching high and low, sky and sea's for her but never finding anything until they give up in the one year anniversary of their disappearance.

Edmunds significant other shutting themselves, starting to miss the weekly tea and lunch peters has been holding for years now and then just stop coming over to the palace at all and avoiding everyone until they aren’t heard of again.

And the worst of it all dealing with the fallout of Susan’s engagement.

A man whom everyone learned to care for and came to see as a friend turned cruel and unreasonable, demanding Peter’s spouse marry him in retribution so his kingdom would continue its alliance with Narnia.

Peters's spouse is so overwhelmed not able to decide if they should accept or not, On one hand, they still hold hope their spouse and siblings would come back but on the other, they were the only protector left of Narnia which meant they had to do everything in their power to protect their subject and do what was best for the kingdom. Finally, Oreius is the one to hold a meeting with everyone close to the Royal family to talk to Peter's spouse and make them see Peter nor Susan would expect them to marry, and neither did any of the Narnians who loved their ruler, the one who stayed and has been taking care of them.

They finally reach a decision to reject the marriage proposal and offer instead a trading alliance between the kingdoms. It's accepted but no one ever sees Susan's ex-betroth in Cair Paravel again.

Later that same year Peter's spouse receives a visit from none other than Aslan himself. They are sitting on the beach having what they remember Edmund calling an existential crisis, their guards are away at a respectable distance when they feel someone sitting next to them and when they look there he is, in all his glory- Aslan.

The lion sits and listens to the current ruler of Narnia cry their heart out offering a small nudge hoping to give some comfort. Once they have calmed down Aslan lays down next to them and observes the sunset, and as the sun hits the water on the horizon he finally speaks.

" They are destined to come back," he says and turns to look at them.

Peter's spouse looks up at Aslan, " What?"

" As you heard my child," he replies eyes never leaving the horizon, " The kings and Queens are destined to be back but," he stops turning his head, and looks them in the eyes. " not for years and years to come"

"I'll be gone by then," they say knowing what Aslan hinted at.

" And they will be lost," he says, " confused and scared."

" Is there a way I can..." they speak, not really understanding what they are asking but knowing in their heart, that they are asking for a second chance.

" There is," Aslan said, hesitation in their tone," but it will cost you greatly. "

They waited for more still looking at Aslan.

The lion sighed, " If you wish to wait for them, I can help with that but you would leave Narnia without a ruler. I could freeze your body and send you into a deep sleep only to be awakened when the rightful rulers of Narnia are back."

It dawns on them for a moment before accepting.

They make preparations and a council is placed in line for when the spell is to take place. They say their goodbyes to everyone, their family and friends, and their most loyal guards, a small order is formed that will take care of them in their slumber; The order of the Firebird.

They lay down in a bed full of their favorite flowers and all their friends are their surround them, Aslan walks in and whispers something to them and then gently blows in their face and they are swept into a dreamland.

Years pass and wars happen, by the time of Prince Caspian thousands of years have passed, and many orders of the Firebird have come and gone but always to come back loyal to their ruler and cause.

It's a calm morning in spring when a gasp is heard from the bed where the enchanting Ruler of old Narnia resides. They sit up in the bed and gasp for air as they hold their throat.

It's time, they look around their room confused since this looked nothing like their chambers in Cair Paraval,

 as they tried to stand up their knees give in and they crashed to the floor thats when some guards came running in, guards that looked nothing like their friends who they last saw. 

“ Your Majesty!” they all exclaimed rushing to their side and helping them up. 

“Thank you” They thanked the guards softly as they hold on to them, feeling their body so when suddenly their was a paused in the air, the unspoken fact, they were back- Peter was back. The guards looked expectenly at them waiting for an other or something. They shoved their hands into the pocket in their outfit taking out a golden firefly that immediately glowed and shot into the sky waiting for the party to follow it. 

“Lets find our Kings and Queens” they spoke with a huge smile.

In a hurry the guards prepared horses and cavalry to escort them and find the Kings and Queens, ridding in a centaur who claimed to be a descendant of  Oreius,  they learn that it had been years- thousands actually, they were currently at war and that most of the hope had been lost, the order of the Firebirds and the rebellion were the last of what remained of old Narnia. 

The firefly finally arrived at the destination from the back of Andreas- the centaur who kindly offer to let them ride in their back- they could see a bunch of Narnian’s and… humans, humans who looked exactly like their husband and siblings, a human who was holding Peters sword, a human with the same golden hair that they had run their fingers through every night. 

It was him, their husband, their king, it was..

“PETER!” They shouted jumping out of the centaurs back and landing in the ground not caring about falling or tripping, their only goal to reach their husband. Peter turns around not caring about the man infront of him and runs in their direction. 

Their small guard follows them swiftly, banners and swords drawn surrounding the stranger who has their sword drawn on their King, protecting them. 

Peter reaches them first and hugs them arms around their shoulders, heart beating threatening to burst out of his chest and gripping into the material of their cloths. 

“ You are here,” They whisper and sobs. 

Peter is in tears and tightens the grip on them. “ So are you.” 

They separate from the hug and they caresse Peters's face, tears running down their faces matching Peters. “ You look just like the day we met,” They say softly and chuckle a bit. 

Peter sobs and nuzzles into their palm, “ And you look just like the day I lost you.”

-

here it is everyone! hope you enjoyed it! it's a small thing that has been in my mind since I was literally a child. I might develop the idea more but it would be with an actual character but I wanted to put it out to the world first as something anyone can see themselves or their character in!

[zarnzarn]

"You used to smile more," Lamb says.

Narinder flicks a ear to dispel the flies and looks out at the fading sun. "I used to have things to smile about."

"Am I not a thing to smile about?" Lamb teases. Narinder huffs and hits them in the arm, rolling his eyes, lips quirking.

"No, not that," Lamb says, an odd note in their voice. Narinder looks over. "These smiles I know. Amused, fond small ones or half-smothered flustered ones, or smug, annoying smirks. But you used to smile big in the Gateway, remember?" They stretch their cheeks with two fingers pointedly. "All teeth!"

Narinder shrugs and turns back to the sky. "Used to."

A few beats pass. Then, in a smaller voice than Narinder has ever heard it, "Do I not make you happy?"

Narinder sighs and closes his eyes. He had guessed where the conversation was going to go, but it didn't make it any easier to navigate. "Lamb..."

"Do you not enjoy my gifts?" They demand. "My compliments, my offerings, my touch? I have tried everything, Narinder, everything. But no matter what I do, not once in three hundred springs have I gotten that same easy smile from you, my one."

"Well, demanding it isn't going to get you one," He snaps back, irritation rising.

"Well then, what is?" Lamb sits up, crossing their arms. "What can I do to make you happy, Narinder?"

"I am happy," Narinder protests.

"Are you?"

Narinder thins his lips. "I am content."

"But you're not happy," Lamb says, raw and miserable, pushing themselves up to look down at him. "I- I understand you didn't like me taking the crown, I know your pride was hurt, I know you don't like being mortal, but how long are you going to sulk over it?"

They've raised their voice by the end of the sentence, face screwed up in repressed anger, cruel in the way they spit out the accusation. Narinder vaguely feels a pang of hurt at their words, but also mostly feels a whole lot of nothing. Mild resignation, maybe.

"I mean, seriously, the other Bishops are in the same place as you, but I'm out here playing knucklebones and ring toss with my murderers, and I'm still stuck at square one with you? What the fuck, Narinder, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," He replies honestly. Even thinking about drudging up a smile, a fake one, makes him feel more tired than an entire month's labour ever had.

"Do you want the Red Crown, even now? Is that it? Then, here," Narinder's chest squeezes painfully at the inhale he takes when Lamb aggressively pulls the crown off their head and holds it out. "Take it. It's yours."

Narinder stares at them with wide eyes. Looks to the Crown, which looks just as taken aback as him, at the easy surrender. For a minute, fire itches behind his teeth, craving the familiar force of the Red Crown behind his movements and the joyful annihilation that came with it, the peaceful passing of souls he used to help with.

Then he remembers white, and looks away. Besides, the humiliation of being handed something won off him in fair laws out of pity was too much, even for his tattered dignity. "I do not want the crown, Lamb."

A surprised inhale. "So then what?" Their voice cracks. "What do I need to do to make you smile at me again?"

"Lamb-"

"I used to make you so happy," Lamb's voice breaks with tears. Narinder pushes himself upright in worry, painfully wondering how long they'd been holding this in. "I used to make you grin ear to ear just by being there, I used to make you laugh, you used to like my jokes and my songs and my stories and my antics, and now, even on our wedding renewals your eyes barely crinkle. What can I do, Narinder, to make you love me again?"

The wound in his chest pulses agonizingly. "I do love you, Lamb."

"How, if you're not even happy?" They demand, tears rolling down their face. "I miss you so much, Narinder, every day- because deny it or not, I remember what you were when we met, and I know i only hold a part of you now. I'm asking you again, how do I get the rest of you back?"

"I-" Narinder can't think of anything to say. Can't find the words to fix this, stop the tears.

Lamb's face falls as the silence stretches. They straighten up, out of reach. "I see."

Narinder grimaces and reaches out, missing as the other stands up and takes a step back. "Lamb."

"Never mind, then." They walk away, a hand to their face and shoulders shaking.

"LAMB!" He shouts, but they're already gone. Narinder groans and collapses back onto the grass, a hand over his eyes. He'll have to track them down later now.

How to tell them that he hadn't truly smiled since he'd fought with his siblings, all those centuries ago? That what they had seen was- sickness or madness or something, fuelled by the prospect of finally being free, of revenge, of a vessel he loved always so eager and excited to see him? That being happy was something that sat well on him, but joy had always taken over his mind and body and drove him to smile with too many teeth and burn those around him when it came?

That every time he felt happy enough to smile, all he could think of was the knife in his chest as his siblings clawed out his heart, and the axe in his ribs as the sheep he loved did the same thing again a thousand years later.

How to tell them that the only way he still could was if they weren't next to him to watch?

He knew Lamb would fall to pieces if he admitted that he thinks he could smile, had smiled, with people other than them. Their history had been messy and stained even when they first kissed, even before it had been subjected to the usual strain of a century-long relationship and Narinder had no intention of finding out whether this was the thing that finally did them in.

With a sigh, he lets go of the misery for now, resolving to find words to explain later. No need to borrow from future worries, as they say.

Still. Narinder holds a palm up against the sun, watching his fur turn brown at the edges, warming his bones. Away from others, from all the tumultuous relationships and bitter mistakes and traitorous loved ones, he smiles, properly, at the gentle light, gentle warmth. It was tiring, for the anger and shame to still have such a hold on him, after all these years.

Perhaps it was time to try harder. He had done so many impossible things in his life; how hard could loving without a heart be?

[goldennightengale]

Hello there! Here's my request for the day, could I have the Dorm Leaders hearing their female musician s/o sing a love song dedicated to them at VDC? As an added bonus, everyone (including their families) saw her performance and really liked it.

AAA I loved writing this so much!! I always have songs I assign to the boys going through my head all the time so this was so much fun writing! I hope you enjoy it~ -GN

Warnings: N/A

Fem! MC

A Song for Your Love

Riddle Rosehearts (Sombody to Hold My Heart - Lindsey Sterling)

When I tell you this man was flustered when you pointed him out in the crowd. Not only was your song full of love and energy, but all of your attention was on him, laser-focused on his face in the roaring crowd as you danced and sang across the stage like a professional. He’s the type to try and show his affection through actions instead of words, so expect a lot of flowers, gifts, and lots of hand-holding!

What made it even worse was he knew this was being broadcasted. Though he felt horrified by the thought of his mother watching you perform, specifically with him in mind, he was quickly reassured that she was more than amused by your eccentric proclaims of affection. She appreciates a confident woman speaking her mind, especially towards her son.

Leona Kingscholar (Lazy Love - Chloe X Halle)

Smug Bastard x100 He’s making that concert seat look like a throne with how confident he looks, knowing full well that you are talking about him. Nobody else in the thousands seated near him. (Don’t mention how he might have a slight ego about being the second prince, he can’t give you the throne you deserve but he can give himself to you instead. Knowing you return the gesture makes him unreasonably happy)

Forgot it was being broadcasted until he got a facetime call from his brother congratulating him on having a mate of his very own, especially one so talented! Cheka starts begging him to bring you back to the palace and Leona hangs up before he can get the waterworks going. 

Azul Ashengrotto (Cariño - The Marías)

Stuck between stunned, smug, and highly embarrassed. He has this goofy smile as he watches you strut across the stage, occasionally ducking his face into his hands when you purr the lyrics into the mic and wink at him in the crowd.

His mama went NUTS when she caught her guppy getting serenaded on live broadcast and demanded that he bring you home. She wants to meet the gal who made her baby smile like that!

Kalim Al-Asim (What is Love? - Jonelle Monáe)

Your hype man. He’s jumping, dancing, screaming your name, and “I love you”s as you perform. Jamil tries to get him to calm down but how could he when you look like the brightest star in the desert sky? His Jewel has talent!

His father was laughing so loudly when he called, delighted with his son’s choice in love. Immediately offered to build you a personal stadium in return for you (marrying his son) performing for the entire Al-Asim family.

Vil Shoenheit (Only Girl (In the World) - Rihanna)

Smug x100 pt. 2, He is preening under the spotlight of your affections and, while he may be judging your routine (lovingly ofc), he genuinely likes how you make it clear to others that he chose you above everyone else. Though he does question if you have a death sentence announcing your relationship so boisterously.

His father loved your performance! Bold and confident, you really must have what it takes to make his son fall so hard for you. While he may not be at the front of the musical entertainment business, he’d be willing to get you some connections if you ever decide to pursue music in the field.

Idia Shroud (Icarus - Grant Knoche)

Hates the attention but melts under your loving stare, completely enraptured by your declaration of love and the thought that you did all this for him. Is 100% recording everything so he can rewatch it over and over again late at night and squeal like a fangirl in the privacy of his room.

His parents teased him relentlessly for finally getting a girlfriend, calling you his Pomegranate, and begging him to bring you home so they can meet you properly. Your references to a well-known myth are not lost on them, and the dedication to get close knowing the potential to get hurt is more than enough to get their trust. His hair is pink by the end of the call but you can tell he’s really happy they like you.

Malleus Draconia (Sunset - Caroline Polachek)

Smug x100 pt. 3, because not only did you invite him to this whole ordeal, but you were performing for him and admitting how much you felt about him in front of such a large crowd. Is not aware of your performance being broadcasted, but knowing that everyone will know who you chose as a mate is more than enough to get him all smug again.

Oh, his grandmother is more than pleased that her grandson found someone so wonderful to rule beside him.  The trust you put in him, the clear admittance that you see him as a safe place, it's all proof to the reigning Queen. She’s heard a lot about you from Lilia so it only makes sense for you to visit Briar Valley to make your engagement official, no?

I know this was very short but I hope I fulfilled your wish! -GN