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#X-Factor 9
mikavlcs · 11 months
Text
Rebels and Renegades
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.
Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc
Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)
Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!
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If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.
Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.
See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.
Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.
This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.
It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.
The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.
But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.
Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.
You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).
Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 
Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 
Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.
Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…
You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.
It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.
So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.
Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.
You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.
Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.
Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.
“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”
The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.
Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.
Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.
You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”
You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.
For fun.
Again, you nodded. You could respect that.
“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.
Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.
Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.
You pointed to him below. “How about him?”
Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.
The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.
“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”
He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.
Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.
The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.
Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.
It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.
Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.
For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.
Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.
Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.
The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.
“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”
He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.
“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”
Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.
“Wednesday Addams?!”
Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.
“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”
His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.
You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”
He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.
“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”
Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”
Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.
The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.
It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.
“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”
Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.
Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”
She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.
“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”
Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.
“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”
Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.
“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”
Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”
Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.
“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”
Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.
“Be back at the dorm by 7.”
With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.
Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”
Thing said nothing.
You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!
But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.
Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.
First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.
Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.
Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.
Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.
And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.
Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.
She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.
Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.
So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?
You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.
And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.
At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.
Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.
Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.
The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.
“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”
He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.
“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”
He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.
The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.
But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?
The results though, were much more interesting.
For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.
Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.
Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.
“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.
She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.
“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”
Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”
Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.
“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.
You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.
Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.
“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.
It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?
Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.
You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”
The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.
“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”
Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.
“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.
Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”
Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.
“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”
Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.
You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.
You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.
Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.
Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.
Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.
There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.
The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.
You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.
“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”
“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.
“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.
“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.
“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.
“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.
“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”
Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”
A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.
“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.
“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”
The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.
“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”
Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”
You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.
“Uh—”
“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”
The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.
So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.
Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.
“So I just…”
You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.
Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.
Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.
“Holy shit!”
“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”
“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”
You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”
Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.
Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.
Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.
Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.
“Is this what you stole?”
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”
Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”
Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”
“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”
She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.
“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”
You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”
She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.
“No.”
-
“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”
Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”
Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”
Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.
“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.
Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.
Why had she let you come anyways?
There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.
And yet, she had allowed you to come along.
Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.
It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.
And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.
The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.
Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.
“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”
Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.
Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.
“I don’t hate you.”
She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.
“I despise you. There’s a difference.”
Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.
She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.
Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.
“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.
At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.
Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.
She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.
As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”
“Correct.”
That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.
“What do you say we get a little revenge?”
“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.
You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”
You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.
Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.
Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.
Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.
Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.
However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.
A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.
A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.
She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.
(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?
She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)
Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.
Part of her didn’t want to anyway.
Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.
“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.
Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.
Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.
“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”
“A thesaurus?”
You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”
“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”
“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”
“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”
Your smile widened.
Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”
“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”
She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.
The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.
Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.
It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.
Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.
You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  
Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.
An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.
Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.
Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.
As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.
In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.
Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.
Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.
That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.
As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.
And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 
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nfcomics · 2 months
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X-FACTOR no.9 • cover art • David Nakayama [Nov 2022]
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hauntedbridge · 11 months
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what the fuck is it with people whose lives/art have influenced mine being motivated by 9/11
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scatteredskittless · 17 days
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Hazbin Hotel crew x Reader: general fluff hcs
A/n: 100+ follower special !!
I’ve been doing a lot of headcanons lately so I pinky promise there’ll be some kind of oneshot coming soon 🙏
Warnings: None !! Just some good old fashioned fluff :3
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
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‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧
📻𖤐 When Alastor forms a close bond with you (and I’ve mentioned this before), he’d want to spend more time with you. Even if that’s just sitting in silence together and reading your own separate books
📻𖤐 Who knows? Maybe he’d let you lean against him, head on his shoulder, as he reads to you?
📻𖤐 This guys primary love language is quality time for sure. A close second perhaps acts of service.
📻𖤐 Biggest mamas boy ever…. But I’m sure we all knew that already
📻𖤐 LOVES to go on walks with you, especially during the afternoon or at night.
📻𖤐 Would link your arm with his and chat with you as you went on your daily stroll together… you’re not quite sure when it became a routine but it did.
📻𖤐 Huuuggeee story teller
📻𖤐 100% laughs at dad jokes and will also make them from time to time
📻𖤐 Always winning every single IDGAF war because he genuinely, wholeheartedly, just doesn’t give two shits 💀💀
📻𖤐 Can’t swim. I don’t know how to explain why I think this but I just KNOW its true
📻𖤐 Freezes like a deer in headlights (quite literally) when you shine a bright enough light at him
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‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel would be the absolute BEST at giving out hugs oh my goddd, he’s got six arms for a reason, baby !
🕸️ᥫ᭡ I feel like he’d have fun dancing !! (I mean “Loser, Baby” was enough evidence for me)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Competitive as fuck, UNO would actually be so fun with him 😭 (gets so genuinely excited when he wins too, gloating about it and everything like he just won the lottery)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Biggest shoplifter ever and most of the time it’s not even because he can’t afford it, he just does it for fun.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Smells realllyyy good all the time, he’s got the best perfumes ever
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Spa-days/Self-care days quickly become a Saturday night thing for you two once you become one of his besties. And I’m talking the whole shabang like face masks, candles lit and snack tray out as he paints your nails for you 💕
🕸️ᥫ᭡ It’s something Angel genuinely looks forward to as well (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄⩊ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Primary love language is most likely physical touch, we’ve all seen how touchy he can get 🤞
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Getting to know his real name and getting to call him by it means he trusts you a lot, he doesn’t give that privilege out to just anybody.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ On a less serious note, he’s definitely a huge show off 💀💀
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Amazing at doing makeup, will do your makeup if you asked him to (might accidentally poke you in the eye or something though lmfaoo)
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‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧
🍺🃁 Needs glasses and HAS them but just doesn’t wear them for whatever reason. He looks good in them though !!
🍺🃁 Cheats in any card game ever. Wins 9/10 against you because of that reason (he’s also a gambler so that’s a big factor as well obviously)
🍺🃁 Bros the type of guy to call you “doll” and “baby”
🍺🃁 Primary love language?? quality time 🙏 🙏acts of service and physical touch are both tied for second place (but you only ever really get the physical touch one if you’re his s/o)
🍺🃁 Again, we all saw “Loser, Baby” this mf can DANCE and he enjoys it too
🍺🃁 Jazz is one of Huskers favourite music genres for sure
🍺🃁 You two don’t really have a routine hangout type thing but he does enjoy it when you come around to the bar to just hang out with him while he cleans and whatnot :3
🍺🃁 Trust, you will be given a specialized nickname just for you once he considers you a close friend of his.
🍺🃁 He’s a great listener but gives very blunt advice, doesn’t sugarcoat shit if you ask him for his opinion on something.
🍺🃁 Weirdly caught up with mental health stuff, like he knows a lot about it
🍺🃁 Poor Husker does NOT like the cat noises he makes but he literally cannot control them 😭😭 (believe me, he’s tried)
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‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is NOT a morning person, usually sleeps in until around noon
🗡️☪︎ Would have good fashion taste
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is also a very competitive UNO player, probably ends up yelling at Alastor for making her pick up all those “pick up four” cards when everyone plays together (yes, he looks smug as fuck while doing it and yes he was saving them just for her 💀💀)
🗡️☪︎ Has beef with almost all of the guys at the hotel but Husker is chill for the most part
🗡️☪︎ Adding onto that last one, it doesn’t really take much for a man to piss her off tbh (she’s so real for this)
🗡️☪︎ Would spar with you if you asked and gets really into it too !! She’s careful not to actually hurt you though and it’s a great way of bonding with her (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
🗡️☪︎ Verrryyyyy jealous girl, remember when Emily took Charlie’s hands in the heaven episode?? (The look on her face made me giggle)
🗡️☪︎ Hates pickles. She just looks like she’d be a pickle hater
🗡️☪︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation
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‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧
⭐️☀︎ Charlie is infact a morning person and wakes up at the crack of dawn everyday for zero reason whatsoever 💀
⭐️☀︎ She does her absolute best to include everyone in every activity going on, she doesn’t ever want anybody in the hotel to feel excluded
⭐️☀︎ Biggest shipper EVER. You ever told her you have a crush on someone here?? Oh god..
⭐️☀︎ She’ll silently fan girl from a distance whenever you and your crush are together to the point Vaggie has to drag her away
⭐️☀︎ Charlie can be a little bit overwhelming at times but her happiness is suppeerrr contagious
⭐️☀︎ The best way to spend time and bond with her?? Literally just offer to do anything with her and she’ll do it, I don’t think she’s too picky
⭐️☀︎ Learnt some Spanish from Vaggie and tries to use it with her to be all romantic but her pronunciations are fucked up (She’s trying her hardest guys okay 😞🙏)
⭐️☀︎ Totally asked Vaggie one time as a pick up line if she fell from heaven and she broke out into a sweat (poor girl)
⭐️☀︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation. quality time is somewhere up there too though
⭐️☀︎ Will break out into song a lot and it’s kinda funny to watch
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‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧
🧼𐙚 Acts a lot like a hyperactive toddler on crack. Has zero chill and it’s pretty rare to see her actually calm
🧼𐙚 I think Niffty lowkey has stage freight, like we all see how she just automatically freezes up when a camera is on (I mean it’s happened twice in the show already)
🧼𐙚 Takes a lot after Alastor, sees him as some sort of older brother figure as well 😞🩵
🧼𐙚 When playing UNO, she’d fucking EAT the cards so she’d win. Deadass just nom nom nom that shit
🧼𐙚 She’s a big giggler, she’ll laugh and giggle at almost everything so it’s not hard to get her to do so
🧼𐙚 She’d probably really enjoy it if you let her just sit with you for a while and braid your hair (But she’d steal some for her “collection” in the process)
🧼𐙚 I’m actually not too sure what Nifftys love language would even be? Perhaps acts of service (she is a maid, after all)
🧼𐙚 Okay 99% sure this is actually canon but she’s a hardcore germophobe, can’t handle when things are cluttered or a mess.
🧼𐙚 Has a collection of cleaning supplies in her room
+ Bonus !!
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‧₊˚✧ Vox ✧˚₊‧
📺☆ Whenever Vox is sleeping or thinking really hard about something, the voxtek symbol will bounce around on his screen like the DVD logo thing
📺☆ Not very big on pda, he has an image to uphold, after all. (But he would enjoy affection in private though)
📺☆ Not above watching you through whatever technology you have, he spies on you a lot 💀💀
📺☆ Also guys…… stop pretending Vox isn’t a whiny little bitch, because he is (trust me y’all, read some of @bigfatbimbo’s stuff)
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Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/headcanons/writing without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles
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gingerninja8-2 · 2 years
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Anyone want to join me in the headcanon of Hajime was a jack of all trades, master of none type of guy before Izuru? I just feel like that would be cool.
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kishibei · 1 year
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WHAT A CREEP !
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— K!NKTOBER DAY 9: PERVERSION
pervert! suna rintarou x reader | smut, 18+ | 3.8k words
summary: when your hot roommate offers to do laundry in exchange for a favor, you oblige in a heartbeat! your clothes seem to be returned in perfect condition, except there's one big problem: several pairs of panties are missing ...
cw: f reader, perversion, panty thieving, peeping, voyeurism, male masturbation, teasing, man-handling, fingering, mirror sex, dumbification, hate-fuck (?), rough sex.
← K!NKTOBER MLIST
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You’ve never had a problem living with Suna; he was the nicest roommate you could’ve asked for.
Rent always came in weeks before it was due, and he stayed out of your way for the most part. What he lacked in social aspects he made up for in general politeness. Suna always greeted you in the mornings before leaving, and when he came back he'd offer you takeout in exchange for watching movies with him.
Though he didn't talk much, you were never uncomfortable with his silence. He was much better company than your mutual friend Atsumu, who just couldn't handle shutting up for five minutes, let alone for a film.
Suna was a calming presence and when he did offer his thoughts on things, he was brutally honest. it was something you both seemed to agree upon, a small unifying factor that helped you grow a bit closer to him. He was clean and organized, and your communal spaces were a calm mix of both your living habits. You could definitely trust him with domestic tasks, he had never given you reason not to. So when he began offering to do your laundry in exchange for a couple of favors, you obliged in a heartbeat.
It couldn’t have been that big of a leap anyway. Suna was a self-sufficient man and had done his own laundry ever since he had moved in. Knowing that eased you, and there really wasn't a seed of doubt in your mind when you handed your hamper over to him before work. It was truly impossible for him to fuck this up. Most of your colors could go in the same wash, so all that was really left for him to do was load up the washer and throw in a softener mid-cycle.
In spite of your confidence in him, you still had lingering doubts about his abilities. He was a guy, of course, one who probably had his mommy back home to wash his jerseys all season long. You knew he was capable of doing his laundry just fine and yet you'd successfully convinced yourself he would fuck up somewhere. Mental preparation, you'd called it. Just in case he did manage to disappoint you. Most men had a way of doing that sort of thing, anyway.
Once you had returned, you were pleasantly surprised to be met with your clothes not only intact but neatly folded and organized on your bed. A quick look over your things proved them to be in order and you’d even caught yourself smiling as you packed everything into their respective drawers. You didn't expect Suna to go so far as folding them, so naturally, you felt as if you owed him something extra for what he'd done. Maybe you should cook him dinner?
Turning to the final pile, you paused.
Heat crawled up your body when your eyes fell on the remaining stack of garments.
"No fucking way..." you trailed off, picking up a neatly folded lace thong. You stood frozen in place, staring at the dark sliver of fabric with wide eyes. You could almost hear the gears turning in your head before the realization dawned on you. You had not only let your hot roommate wash, but fold an entire set of your panties.
The mental image that played behind your skull had you wanting to kill yourself. You could so imagine Suna standing in the middle of your room picking up pair after pair of underwear, snickering at each design choice. The mere thought of it made you want to die and at this rate, dying seemed like a way better option than having to face him after this.
It was times like this that made you wish you weren't so lazy. You had intended on separating your underwear from the rest of the wash the night before, but sleep had taken over and you’d completely forgotten about it in the morning.
Sifting through the pile, you inspected the panties one by one, cringing at the embarrassing pattern that decorated your favorite pair. Suna was an attractive man, even after living with him for this long you’d never changed your mind. From the very beginning and especially after finding out who he was, you were hoping he’d have an embarrassing routine or bad habit that would rid you of your feelings for him. But up until now, he had a clean track record.
if anything, it was rather you who had slipped up. It was you who had just now let him see your character-speckled panties, all for some small favors. Tossing the piece of fabric into the nearest bin, you threw yourself onto the bed. Violently kicking your feet, you buried your face in the pillows, screaming about your little fuck up until your throat went dry.
Quick footsteps and a sharp rapping at your door snapped you out of your tantrum. The sheer embarrassment of it all almost had you forgetting you shared the apartment with someone else. But how could you forget? He was the whole reason you were acting this way to begin with.
“You okay in there? I'm coming in!” the man called out.
Suna fumbled with the doorknob, it was his way of respecting your privacy. Wordlessly, he offered you some time to collect yourself before stepping in. Shit like that made you hate the situation even more, why'd he have to be so gentlemanly even after seeing something so humiliating of yours?
Cursing yourself, you sat up. Not only had he seen your worst pair of underwear but now he had witnessed your screaming fit. If he didn't already think you were weird, he would definitely think you were now. He was probably only checking in to tease you anyway.
“Yea Suna, I'm alright!" you blurted out. "I was actually just gonna thank you for washing my stuff!"
“You really didn't have to fold them too, you know?” the words left your lips so fast, you nearly couldn't catch what you were saying.
Suna’s eyes shifted from you to the now messy pile of underwear you sat next to, then met yours again. He wasn't stupid, it was very clear what you were flustered about.
"Oh,” he trailed off slowly, a hand coming up to comb through the hair framing in his face.
“It wasn't a big deal for me, sorry if you didn't want me to.”
“It’s fine!” you squeak. “I guess I owe you an extra favor for that.”
There’s a pause before Suna speaks again, almost like he’s contemplating the right thing to say. He's unreadable at the moment and you're about to curse him for it. But just when you fix your lips to get a word out, it appears he's decided.
“I'll keep that in mind.”
There's a smirk to his words that don’t quite reach his face, and before you can process it, he’s disappeared down the hall and back into his room.
Huffing you drag a hand over your face, turning your attention back to the stack of underwear in question. Sorting through them again you come to a halt. You're sure you’d included a couple more pairs than this so you recount, and recount, and recount. You're probably overthinking it, and things get lost in the dryer all the time. You can't even begin counting how many pairs of socks you’d orphaned in the wash.
This was Suna Rintarou you were talking about: star middle blocker for EJP. A division one player with a reputation to maintain wouldn’t do anything stupid like what you were thinking. Just because he stuck to himself didn't make him some reclused creep, he was a well-known guy who just happened to choose to enjoy a modest life. You're sure his name gave him plenty of girls to fuck, what business would he have stealing panties anyway?
You brush the thought from your mind. It's definitely a stretch, and beyond unlikely. You're almost ashamed that you even had such an idea, to begin with. Suna’s never given you a reason to doubt his intentions, but what kind of man just does a girl’s laundry for fun?
You need to be sure of your suspicions, if they were real at all. You need to catch Suna Rintarou red-handed.
Tonight, you hardly sleep. Staring up at the ceiling, your throat is dry, and your head is filled with unease, mind swirling with all kinds of theories about Suna. Frustrated, you slip out of bed to get a glass of water. The floor is cold, and a shiver crawls up your spine as your feet meet the chilly wood. It's an eerie feeling and it almost makes you want to crawl back into bed and try to fall asleep again.
Forcing the thought away, you make your way to the kitchen, treading lightly so as not to disturb your roommate. You know he has to travel in the morning, and you’d hate to be the reason he isn't well-rested. But as you pass his room, you realize he’s left his door cracked open and isn't asleep at all, heavy breaths and a soft rhythmic patting are proof of that.
The noises he makes cause you to stop in your tracks, and before you realize it, you find yourself drawn to them, clinging to the wall to secure a better view through the gap in the doorway.
Suna’s eyes are screwed shut. The faint glow of his phone screen just barely illuminates his features and you can see the soft dusting of pink covering his angular face. His lips parted and a shaky inhale followed as your eyes drop from his face to the hand that was gripping his heavy cock. You almost gasp yourself as you note the impressive size of it.
He was huge and girthy, even from afar you could make out the thick veins that decorated the shaft and the aggressive shade of pink that blushed over his leaking tip. You watched as fat beads of pre flowed down his cock, dribbling over his fingers before falling onto his weighty balls. You were so entranced by him you had barely registered what he held in that same hand until he began stroking himself with it.
Your jaw fell laxly as you watched how he worked himself with the lacy black fabric. He was practically choking his cock out with a grip so intense you were sure it was painful. Looking back at his face, you watched attentively as his brows knit together before he opened his eyes again. Zeroing in on his phone, a string of expletives fell from his lips as he picked up the pace.
The loud slapping of his skin and the creaking of his bed rivaled the sound of his voice but still, there it was. Among all the obscenities that came dripping from his tongue, there was your name.
It started as a whisper and you couldn’t even believe it was coming out of his mouth. It grew into a continuous desperate chant as if he was trying to summon you to properly finish him off before he pushed himself over the edge.
Suna came hard. Stupid hard. So hard he had let his phone slip from his grasp, and there you could see it.
You could recognize that photo anywhere, it was one of your best. Even if you had gone blind the next day, you could still point it out in a lineup of other revealing photos. There you were on Suna’s phone screen, on vacation at matira beach in bora bora, playfully bent over in a small bikini top and shorts.
This time you couldn’t hold the gasp you let out. Fully opening the door now, you watched Suna scramble to cover himself. The cum that covered his abs dripped onto his sheets as he sat up. Before he could open his mouth to speak you started.
“Fucking pervert.” you spat out.
Suna physically recoiled, the words had cut deep and bothered him more than he had liked to admit. But you’d instantly noticed how he flinched at them.
“Really, panties? And my Instagram? You're pathetic, Suna.”
He couldn't say a word, he sat staring dumbfounded blinking up at you like an idiot.
“Nothing to say, either? I expected a lot more out of you, guess you're nothing but a little pervert.” you spat contemptuously turning to leave the room. “And keep them. I don't want you going through any more of my stuff, freak.”
Suna sputtered as he watched you stand in the doorframe with your back to him. You were desperately waiting for him to say something, anything.
“That's rich coming from you” he fired back.
You froze as soon as the harsh words had reached you. Clenching your fists, you turn. "Accusing me is really low of you, Suna.”
“You think I didn't see you watching?” Chuckling, he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean watching me jerk off? You're even lower than me. I never crossed that line”
“Shut up.” you spat, turning to him. "I was only here to close your door. You're the one who left it open, you wanted to get caught.”
“Such a tease, youre the one who gave me your panties. it's almost like you wanted me to take them.”
Sputtering, you gave up on responding.
“You're no better than me.” he finished. Turning, you faced him fully now. “And you're right, I did wanna get caught, seeing you there made me cum, came real hard actually."
You cringed at his vulgarity. You’d never seen this side of Suna at all. He was always calm and reserved, the complete antithesis of what he was right now. You hated his sudden confidence and yet it turned you on all the same. Before you could think you began making your way into the room. Stopping before his bed, you lowered yourself to be at eye level with him.
“You know if you had just said something instead, we could’ve fucked.”
Bringing a hand to the nape of your neck Suna pulls you in, resting his lips against the shell of your ear. “So what’s stopping you?” he purred. Wrenching your head back to get a better look at you, his crushing grip on your neck intensified.
“Don't fight me now. If you want it, just tell me. I won't judge.” he simpered. "Besides, you do owe me a favor."
Your head spun at the thought of it, but you had also just caught him jerking off with your panties a few minutes ago. He was a creep, but you had also coveted him from the very moment he hauled his boxes in to stay. You didn't want to say it aloud, so you merely nodded. Admitting it would make it so much more real and you liked the idea of this just being some fever dream you’d wake up from in the morning.
“That won't do, I need you to say it,” he cooed, the smile playing on his lips growing sinister.
"I want it.” you whispered.
"Louder”
“I want it, Suna.” you said with more confidence now.
“Good,” he let go of your neck, deft fingers creeping up to get a good grip on your hair, beckoning you into a burning kiss.
The kiss was rough and nasty, spit escaped the corners of your lips and dribbled down your chin as his tongue explored your mouth. Pulling away with a gasp, you met Suna’s eyes, there was something dark steeping in them, but before you could think too hard about it, his hands gathered your hair again, pushing you down to your knees.
Your hands ran up his muscular thighs as he took the sheet off of him, swinging his legs off the bed to rest on either side of your head. He was much bigger up close and the sheer size of him made you nervous. Swallowing thickly you looked up at him again, and he brought a hand to your face, squeezing your cheeks so your lips puckered up for him.
“Go on,” he said with a nod, his other hand gripping his cock, slowly stroking it before bringing it to your eager lips. You opened your mouth and took him in immediately, already huffing around the thick of his shaft.
He was so big you could barely breathe around him, he was only halfway in and you’d already felt like throwing up. Pulling back with a gasp, you followed the trail of spit still connected to his cock, watching it split before pressing light kisses and kitten licks to the length of it.
The expression that painted Suna’s face almost made you laugh. His eyes were shut hard again and his forehead was creased in frustration at the barely there stimulation you offered him. Getting bored of teasing him, you put him in your mouth again.
You'd done it slowly this time, letting the tip of his member reach the back of your throat before pulling away. What couldn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hands and Suna was truly in heaven once he peered down at you working him skillfully. Grunting at your ministrations, he shifted his hands to cradle your face before plunging your head further down the shaft. You began to gag but he shushed you, gently stroking your head as he aided you closer to the base of his cock.
“See? Not so hard if you breathe through your nose, girl.” Humming around him you let him take control, allowing him to maneuver your head how he pleased, fucking your face with vigor. Tears streamed down your face and drool ran to your chin, the mix of fluid pooling down at the tip before dripping onto the floor.
“Fuck...” he grunted, bucking his hips as you took him down your throat, the harsh movement causing you to gag around him. “So pretty taking me like this…” his words were muttered and punctuated with moans. “So fucking good for me,” he grunted.
His words went straight to your pussy, and you clenched your thighs at the praise. Suna reveled in the sight of you falling apart in front of him, his words had an effect to them and he had clearly begun to make a mess out of you.
Suna was close, so fucking close. Pushing your face closer to him, you breathed heavily once you’d reached the hilt, nose buried in the light dusting of hair smattered over his pubis. A string of expletives left his lips as a warning. He couldn't quite find the words in time before he was cumming down your throat. When he had worn himself out you pulled yourself off with a pop, swallowing hastily to catch a proper breath of air.
You gasped violently, chest heaving as you huffed waiting for your breath to steady. Suna returned a hand to your face again, raising your chin to examine it. He brought his thumb to the corner of your lips, smearing around some of the fluids that escaped before pushing his thumb past your lips for you to suck. Capturing them obediently you met his eyes again, they were lidded and danced around your face and body, unable to focus on one thing.
“I didn't know pervert girls sucked cock so well,” he jested, sharply pulling back at the feeling of your teeth clamping down on his thumb. “I was joking!” he shook his hand for added effect.
“Let me take care of you now…”
Pulling you up to your feet, Suna helped you undress. He worked slowly and his touch lingered in the places he ran his hands over. Coaxing you over to him, he situated you in his lap with your back to him, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, he spread your legs.
“Look,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses and the occasional nibble to your clavicle. Glancing up, you had finally taken notice of the mirror that sat across from you. Seeing yourself spread open with him behind you made you shiver, your skin prickled with goosebumps when his hands traveled south, holding your thighs apart.
"Aren't you pretty?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. You were already babbling about him stroking your thighs and he hadn't even touched you where it meant anything. Pushing your panties to the side, Suna ran a finger down your slit, pulling it back to admire the thread of wetness that was still connected to your cunt.
“So fucking wet for me,” he began, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them loudly. Your flesh burned in embarrassment as you watched him lick your slick off his digits.
“And all that just from sucking dick? You really are a slut.”
You writhed in his arms, wishing he would get done with the teasing and actually touch you seriously. You were so turned on it almost hurt, the steady thump of your pussy irritated you, and you were practically on the verge of tears.
“Suna,” you whined, circling your hips desperately. “Please,  just touch me already…”
You watched his head lift from its position at your neck, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Without warning, he brought two fingers to your cunt, harshly plunging them into your dripping hole. You cried out, bucking wildly in his lap as he drew them out before pushing them in again, curling them to skim the spongy area hidden at the back of your cunt. His digits were long and skinny and he had no problems reaching deep where you needed him. Tears streamed down your face as he worked you to hysterics, hiccupping and gripping his wrists when you were close to your peak.
“S-suna!” you yelped, shutting your eyes hard at the incoming wave of pleasure. Suna grabbed your face, turning it back to the mirror.
“Open your eyes.” he cooed, roughly scissoring his fingers in your pussy. “I want you to see how you look cumming all over my fingers.”
Prying your eyes open, you focused on the mirror. Training your sights on Suna’s nimble fingers knuckles deep in you, you clamped down on him hard, gushing over his hands and thighs with a scream.
Before you had even fully come to, Suna was already busying himself with your spent pussy. Peeling your panties off, he slotted himself between your folds, coating his cock with your fluids before sinking you down on it.
Mutually, you gasped. Your hole fluttered around his length as the stretch of him entering burned you. Letting out a shaky exhale, Suna took his time, slowly lowering you down with small strokes until he had fully bottomed out. When you had finally adjusted, he hooked his arms around your legs, folding you in on yourself as he dragged his cock out of you.
You trembled at the feeling of his length being drawn out before slipping back in. You could practically feel every vein stroke your insides and the angle of his cock had you jabbering incoherencies when he abused the spot that had you falling apart. Suna’s pace was unrelenting, he bounced you on his lap, letting gravity take over before he lifted you up again.
“Fuck,” He grunted, angling his body to sink himself deeper. “Keep clamping down on me like that and I'm gonna cum.” His words had the opposite effect on you, and your cunt was swallowing him up, squeezing his cock with a vice-like grip.
Groaning, Suna tightened his grip on your legs. Standing up from the bed, he bullied his cock into you, lifting and dropping you down on him with vigor. Moaning in pure ecstasy, you hollered at his pace grabbing onto whatever you could to steady yourself.
You’d gone dumb at this point. Sobbing uncontrollably, you were unable to moan or form any sounds other than the string of slurred syllables that made up his name.
“Suna! Su- su-…”
“I know,” he hushed you, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek down to your neck and shoulders.
“Fuck!” he grunted. “Gonna… gonna cum!”
Gripping his wrists you tried to find the words. “Don- don’t pull out..” you slurred, teetering over the edge of bliss.
Your words shot straight to his pulsing cock and he emptied himself inside you with a strangled cry. The feeling of him filling you up with his warm seed pushed you over the edge. Crying, you gushed around him, pushing his cock out as he tried to fuck you through your orgasm. Coming down from his high, Suna pulled out of you, the mix of fluids dripping out of your worn cunt and onto the hardwood floor.
Relaxing in his arms, your eyes fluttered closed. Leaning your head back, you looked up at him. Sweat lined his brow and his face was a violent shade of pink as he huffed, meeting your gaze.
“So,” you rasped. “Wanna go again, pervert?”
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munson-blurbs · 8 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.
Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying
WC: 8.2k
Chapter 14/20
Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.
--
Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 
Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 
Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 
Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 
Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 
“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”
You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 
Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”
There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.
“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”
“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”
“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”
He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.
Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.
“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”
Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 
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“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 
Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.
“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”
“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.
Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.
Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 
“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 
“Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.
He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”
He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 
You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.
“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 
“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.
As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 
“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.
You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.
Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.
You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 
The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 
“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 
Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.
It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.
It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.
“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”
“Eds?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”
You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”
“Sounds messy.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”
Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”
“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”
“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 
You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”
“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”
“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”
“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 
“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 
To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 
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Could Corroded Coffin play again?
It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 
We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 
He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 
Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—
“‘Lo?”
Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”
“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”
Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 
Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”
There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 
Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”
“Mhm.”
“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”
Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”
“Of course.”
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“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.
“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”
Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”
“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”
“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”
“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 
“Did your friends go?”
“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”
Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”
“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 
“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.
“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”
Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 
Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 
He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 
“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”
“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”
“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 
“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”
Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”
Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.
“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”
Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”
The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.
“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”
The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.
You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.
Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.
“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 
He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.
“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 
“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 
A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.
“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.
“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 
“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.
Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”
Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.
“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 
But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 
Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.
“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”
“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”
Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”
“Not you.”
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You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.
“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”
Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.
“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 
“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.
“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”
“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 
Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 
“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”
He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 
“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”
Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”
Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”
Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 
“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”
Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.
“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.
“For what?”
“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”
You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.
“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”
Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.
As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.
“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.
Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”
“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”
“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 
Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 
Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’
No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 
“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 
“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 
Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 
Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 
“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 
Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 
With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 
He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 
“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”
Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”
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The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 
Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”
Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 
“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”
But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.
Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”
Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”
There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.
“Yeah. I can stay.”
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Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.
You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 
“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”
“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 
“Being in a hospital?”
He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”
The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.
“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”
“But what if Jeff needs—”
“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 
Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 
You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…
You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 
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The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 
“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.
“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 
As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”
“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”
Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–
“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”
Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”
“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.
Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 
There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 
“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”
“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 
Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 
He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”
“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 
It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.
“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”
You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”
There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.
It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.
“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”
“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.
“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 
“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”
Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 
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The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.
“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”
Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 
“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.
“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 
“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 
Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 
“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”
“I mean, I—”
“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”
And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.
“I love her.”
--
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punching-pentagrams · 1 month
Text
Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 6
Hi lovelies! Please be warned that this is a heavier chapter that discusses trauma and depictions of violence! I'm sure I'm going overboard with the warnings, but I'm just wanting to make sure I cover all of my bases here! xoxo, Dany
Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9
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Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.3k CW: Slowburn, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, protective "not-boyfriend" !Trigger Warning!: Physical violence, abuse, neglect, vague mentionings of underage sex work, drug use, torture, and drug dealing
The next couple of days seemed to creep by more slowly for the both of you, nothing drastic, just... slower, more... unpleasant. It could have been because of how good everything felt to be with each other, but at least for you, there had been another new factor.
You had still been seeing other clients while working for Lucifer, and sure, he took up the largest amount of time, but there were still others, some one offs and some regulars, and a handful of new clients. Most of them didn't give you much grief, but one of your newer clients had taken quite a shine to you, and wanted to see you more often. He was... ok...ish... not really. He was a little selfish, which was fine, but he also had an aggressive personality, and not the fun kind. He had not done anything "bad" to you yet, but he toed the line and that made you nervous.
This had not been as much of an issue until someone tipped him off that you did house calls it was Cynthhhhia, and in the last two days he had asked for you to go to his place, and he seemed to push the boundaries more outside of the brothel. Larry had always told you that if anyone made you ladies uncomfortable, that you could put them on your "No Kiss List", basically being banned from being scheduled with you, and depending on the intensity of the issue they could also get banned from the Lounge entirely.
Again, at this point, this newer guy, Jethro, had not done anything yet, so you still felt like you could handle him, but he was still a cause for some stress. The night of your next visit with Lucifer was a welcome one. When you got too Lucifer's, you pulled him into a tight embrace. He welcomed your hug, but noticed that it felt a little different, a little heavier than usual.
"Well hello to you too! Haha! Hey, you doing ok?" he said, looking at you with soft concern as your released him from your embrace.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" you smiled, trying to hide your stress from the day.
"Oh nothing, you just uh... felt a little tense is all," he said sheepishly.
"Oh! Haha, ya it's nothing. Just a long day. Lots of clients, lots of... you know," you said trailing off.
"Of course! Haha, how silly of me! Do you, uh... need a minute? Do you want to, like, take a bath or shower or something?" he asked, "By yourself of course! I'm sure a minute to yourself would be nice. Plus, I still need to finish up with dinner," he added nervously, he felt his checks tint pink.
You chuckled, you thought it was funny when Lucifer would overthink his statements and felt like he needed to clarify something.
"That sounds nice, I might just take you up on that," you smile.
"Great!" he smiled, "Chose any bathroom you like, dinner should be ready in like 30 minutes."
The two of you part ways as you headed to one of the close-by guest bathrooms and Lucifer headed back to the kitchen. Lucifer had some updates that he had wanted to tell you about from Charlie's meeting with Heaven, but he figured that could wait a little longer. Plus, he was now preoccupied by his own dumb comment.
'"You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, of course!" no duh, you idiot! She understood that's what you meant, why did you felt like you needed to clarify that?! Why do you gotta be so weird sometimes?!' he scolded himself as he made his way to the kitchen. Lucifer definitely had people that would cook for him, but he liked that it gave him something to do sometimes while he waited for you to get there in the evenings.
Meanwhile, you drew yourself a bath and slipped into it. You examined the bruises on your legs and chest from where your earlier guest had bitten and grabbed you. You were normally all for kinks like these, but these feel more forceful, and therefore made you upset to look at. You hid your legs under the water and just floated in the big tub for a while.
You smiled to yourself again as you thought of Lucifer stumbling over himself 'You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, course!' followed by that little nervous smile. It was cute, and it was funny that he kept forgetting that he could just request that if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded, you honestly would have liked it. He would be so warm and soft, snuggling into your chest in the warm water. You realized you had only ever seen him down to a barely opened shirt, while he has seen you down to your lingerie, for a fleeting minute.
How odd it was, that he had been one of your longest running and most consistent clients and yet, you too had not been sexually intimate at all. It was nice, but also... a little disappointing? Why was that disappointing? Why did you care? And why did you actually like the thought of bathing with him?
Your thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Uhh... occupied?" you said.
"There you are!" you could hear Lucifer through the door. "Jesus Christ, darling why do I have so many bathrooms?"
You shrugged, "Uhh.. cuz you're rich and its funny?"
"Hmm... That is true..." Lucifer chuckled on the other side of the door, "Anyways, dinner is ready whenever you are!"
"Ok!" you called out, and you started to get ready. As Lucifer walked away, he paused for a moment, thinking about how you were naked on the other side of the door.
He shook his head and kept walking, "Dude, stop it," he said quietly to himself.
A few minutes later, you were out, a toweling off your hair, back in your earlier clothes.
"How are you feeling?" said Lucifer as you entered the room.
"Much better, thank you," you said with a smile.
You and Lucifer sat down to eat, and Lucifer was finally able to tell you about the whole ordeal of setting up the Heaven with meeting the exhausting bureaucracy and drama of it all, and then... the aftermath of Charlie's meeting. Charlie had gone up with Vaggie, met with a bunch of the angels and seraphim, including Adam, the first man and leader of the yearly exterminations, and his right hand exorcist, Lute, and... it did not go well. Charlie had gotten them to start actually start thinking about the whole issue, then Adam dropped the whole "extermination" thing on the counsel, and most of the angels in the room knew nothing about the extermination of souls in hell! Consider the tea, spilled. Then on top of that, the council said their was not proof sinners could be redeemed, and Adam basically declared war on the Hotel.
Well, this was very stressful, but in a way that made you care more and made you forget about your worries from earlier in the day. You thought about Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel... everyone at the hotel... You were wondering how they were feeling, how they were going to get out of this. So much for your idea about moving into the hotel. You chuckled to yourself.
"What is it?" Lucifer asked.
"Oh... it's stupid," you say with a wave of your hand, Lucifer gives you a look. You sigh, "Just... puts a little damper on my daydream to try out the hotel."
Lucifer cocked his head to the side, "You were thinking about moving to the hotel?"
You sat back and shrugged, "It was... a passing thought. Nothing serious. I realize that probably would have made things complicated, it's probably just easier this way."
Lucifer studied your face, "Maybe after the next extermination, see what happens. I just don't want you to get caught up in all of that right now."
"Ya," you say, staring off. Your worries returning back to thoughts of Charlie and the others.
Lucifer read the concern on your face, and placed a hand over yours. You looked up to meet his soft smile.
"It's gonna be ok..." he said with hesitation. "I don't exactly know how it is going to be ok, I would be lying if I said it wasn't nervous... but I trust my daughter... and her friends seem to be good people... outside of Alastor," his glared off to the side at the mentioning of the Radio Demon.
He was right, maybe not all hope was lost, maybe Charlie would figure out something. You smile at the face he made, then looked down at his hand on top of yours. Your face shifted in thought in response to something he had just said, "her friends seem to be good people..." Did he really believe that? Did that visit really change his mind that much? That's not what he had made it sound like the other day. You had forgotten about that comment, and now the reminder left you with a bitter taste.
Lucifer looked over and caught your expression, "What's on your mind?"
You look at him sideways, "Do you really believe that? That her friends are good people?"
"Well... as far as I have seen, why do you say that?" he said with worried confusion.
You look up at him, "I just thought that sinners were all violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain a destruction as they can."
Lucifer froze, shit did he really say that the other day to his daughter, in front of you and all of Charlie's friends? Yeesh.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Jeez, I really did say that didn't I?" You gave him a slow judgmental nod. He sighed, "I... I was wrong, I shouldn't have said that... I'm sorry... I realized that I have never really taken the opportunity to actually get to know many sinners, and I've passed a lot of judgement on them the last... 10,000 years. They are not like that... you, are definitely not like that... Honestly, meeting you has made me really confused on the matter of how they decide who ends up here entirely."
Your slight distain turned you curiosity, and you raised an eyebrow, "How so?"
Lucifer took a minute to try and find the words, "Uhh, well... fuck, ok... I guess I just don't understand why you are in hell in the first place. The way you treat people puts people I used to know in Heaven to shame."
You blow a puff of air out your nose in a laugh, "Maybe the way I treat you and hotel people, I'm not like this with everyone, you know?"
"Well ya... but still..." Lucifer held back his next question a moment, he didn't want to say anything to upset you. "Can I ask... um... how you ended up here?"
You prop your head up on your hand and thought, being alive felt so long ago. Lucifer waited nervously for you to answer, but he was pretty sure you didn't look mad at the question.
"You really wanna know?"
He nodded.
"Well... I was the oldest child of drug addict parents, who had no right having any kids, spent much of my life fending for myself and my siblings, my parents would not stop having fucking kids and I was basically the only parent for them. I had to do... whatever I could for them, steal from neighbors, stores, random people's cars, anything to get food and money for my siblings. When I was older, my grandmother got custody of us and it got a lot better, but we struggled a lot mentally and it was hard to shake the old habits. She had to knock some sense into me to stop stealing, but I could never get past the idea of needing to be the parent of the house. I didn't go to school until end of middle school, and when I started it was hard, I skipped school, never finished an education. I wanted to... but I was way too far behind by that point, and with so many kids, grandma couldn't get all of us caught up. I encouraged her to focus on the younger ones. I tried getting a normal job, but I ended up meeting shitty people and I get ended up selling drugs and my body to get by. It wasn't great but it made me money. I had bad and sub-par relationships, nothing great. During my last relationship, I was actually starting to learn about boundaries and shit, feeling like it might actually go somewhere... and then I was killed during a bad drug deal," you looked back at Lucifer casually as you finished your story.
Lucifer looked at you with so much heartbreak in his eyes. No pity, no belittlement, no tears, just sadness. "How are you still so full of kindness then? After all of that?"
You smiled, "Partly cuz I can act, but mostly because... everything stupid, reckless, or "sinful" I ever did... it was for my siblings. I always thought that I would damn myself to hell so that they didn't have to." You shook your head, "I sure did damn myself to hell, but... I don't know how successful I was, my siblings always seemed mad or annoyed with me... but... I just loved them all so much."
Lucifer stood up and wrapped his arms around you as you remained sitting, your head at his chest level. You were taken by surprise, but hugged him back, "What's this for?"
He released you slightly from his hug, and held your face in his hands. "If you gave your siblings even an ounce of the care you have shown me, I know you were successful, and I know they will never forget the sacrifices you made for them."
Your eyes go wide, 'Could it... could it be? Could he be right? Could you have saved them? Saved them from the same pain you endured? Could your actions have changed the course of their lives? Could you have saved them from a fate in hell?' Tears started to form in your eyes. 'No. No. No no no no no. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, no crying in front of Lucifer.' You rip your face away from Lucifer's hands and wipe your face before the tears fall.
Lucifer ached to see you tear yourself away and wipe your tears. Until this moment, he had never realized how much of a wall you had up, how much you protected yourself, how much space you gave to him and how little you gave for yourself. He knew the dynamics were weird, this not being a normal friendship and all. Those dynamics were starting to make him so frustrated, he just wanted to hold you every night and tell you how much he cared about you... but things were way too messy now. He had no idea how to untangle this, and emotionally vulnerable conversations did not seem like the best idea right now with everything going on.
"Sorry," you say as you finish wiping your tears, "Thank you, really, I mean it. I'm just... not used to that."
Lucifer smiled, "Well... I hope this can be a good... beginning to that..."
'Nice job Lucifer, fucking nailed it, idiot.' he thought you himself.
You laugh, he laughed with you. Alright, enough of that, time for some tv and snuggles. You also remembered another question you had for Lucifer from you day at the hotel. You asked Lucifer about how he could teleport, and asked if the driver was necessary or if he could just pick you up from your apartment for your evenings together. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about that before, he had been worried about people following the car back to his place, or bothering you, and that would make him feel better. Plus, it would be cool to see your place. You guys made a plan for him to just teleport in to grab you in the future.
______________________________________________________________
The next couple of weeks were a weird mixture of fun and stressful, Lucifer started teleporting in to get you right at your set meeting time and he got to see your place. It was... small, really small, and there wasn't much to it. He made a comment oh how "minimalist" it was, but you just said you didn't need a lot, you weren't used to much, which wasn't completely a lie, but you didn't want to worry him with images of the other girls trying to break into your room.
Outside of that, Lucifer had the added stressors of worrying about Charlie, the hotel, and the upcoming extermination/war with Adam. You would go a visit the hotel crew with him often, but it only seemed to ease his mind while he was there. He started to complain again about struggling a little with sleep, he would fall asleep fine, especially with you there, but he started having nightmares that would wake him up in the middle of the night and would make it hard for him to fall back asleep. You were frustrated that you did not know how to help him with that, but you also knew he could take care of himself. You couldn't fix all of his problems.
You on the other hand... had reached a boiling point with Jethro. He continued to ignoring safe words, become more controlling, manipulative, and aggressive, until one day you had enough. You stopped the scene you were in and told him that he would not stand for his behavior anymore. Jethro did not like this, and you left his house with a black eye, as well as several other bruises across your body, may be even a sprain. You ran back to the Lounge as quickly as you could, trying desperately not to cry in public.
You got into the Lounge and ran up to your room to hide. Luckily, one of the girls you were closer to saw you, and told Larry. Larry texted you, asking what happened and if he could come up to talk to you. You agreed. Larry came up to your room, you opened the door for him to see you in tears, covered in bruises, trying to ice your eye. You told Larry what happened, and he told you he was putting Jethro on your "No Kiss List", banning him from the Lounge, and that he would handle Jethro if he tried coming back in.
You thanked him, he patted your shoulder, and asked if you wanted you clients canceled for the rest of the day. You asked who was left for the day, and the only one left was "Lance". You shook your head, just asking that no walk-ins get scheduled with you between then and now so that you could be ready by "Lance's" appointment. Larry agreed, and left you to your wounds. You had no idea how you were going to pull your yourself together and hide this all from Lucifer by tonight, but you had to try.
You went into the bathroom, ran a bath, played some music, and cried, partly from the pain, partly from fear. You were so in your head from the experience, that you did not do as well keeping track of time. Before long, Lucifer teleported into your room. Lucifer was a little shocked to not see you in your room, but then he heard the music from the bathroom. Oh ok, you must have been just running a little late.
He want to go knock on the door so that he knew you were there and didn't surprise you, but then he heard something else from the bathroom that made him stop. Was that... crying? Was that part of the music or was that you? He waited, the song changed, and the crying continued. That was definitely you. He finally knocked.
You were startled by the sound of the knock, "Uhhh... occupied?"
"It's me darling, I hope I didn't startle you," you heard Lucifer's voice through the door. You picked up your phone and looked at the time. Shit! You quickly got out of the tub.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, uhh... I must have lot track of time. Busy day. Lots of clients. Uhh... I'll be out in a minute!" you say has you hurried to get dressed. Luckily, you had already brought your clothes into the bathroom with you, so Lucifer wouldn't have to see all of the bruises.
"No rush! You take as much time as you need," Lucifer called back, then he went to go take a seat on your couch.
His words made you feel a little better, but you did not want to keep him waiting any longer than you already had. You quickly did what you could to put on makeup to cover up the big bruise around your eye, you could cover the coloring just fine, it was the swelling you were worried about. It had gone down a little, but it might still be noticeable.
Part of you wishes you had canceled on him, but that would have made you sad more than anything else, and it probably would have worried him. That is if he actually cared about you. Errrr... stop that. Lucifer is not like Jethro or the others, he actually does care, at least... to some amount. You just did not want anyone to see you like this, but especially him.
Eventually you finished your makeup and looked at yourself, it would have to be good enough for today. You painted your best sweet smile on your face, and walked out the door.
"All done! Ready to go?" you said cheerful.
"Yup!" Lucifer said, trying to match your cheerful tone, but he was worried. Why had you been crying? Why were you now trying to hide it? Why were you wearing so much make up today? He hadn't seen you wear this much make up since the first few appointments you guys had. He remembered that Charlie once said girls sometimes wear more make up when they were sad because "If you look better, you feel better", so he didn't comment. He just smiled, wrapped an arm around you, and teleported you both back to his place.
You were already more relieved to be back at his place, the stress of the day still held tightly to you, but it was better here. You swung your arms around Lucifer, enveloping him in a hug. Lucifer held you back tightly, softly but firmly. He was so comforting and soft, you wanted to live in that embrace.
He didn't know what was making you so sad that day, but he wanted to do everything to make you feel better. He had your favorite dinner and dessert made, grabbed you your favorite blanket for when you guys would cuddle on the couch and watch tv later, and he was going to find that tv last that you said you used to like to watch sometimes when you were alive, "The Office."
At one point, during desert, Lucifer looked over at you and saw a strand of hair flop down front of your face. He reached over to tuck it behind your ear, but because of the angle, you didn't see his hand until it was almost near your swollen eye. You flinched and practically jumped out of your chair, shouting "No!" and covering you eye with you hand, the other was wide with panic.
Lucifer flinched his hand back, and stayed still. What was that about? You had never reacted like that before.
"Darling, is everything alright? I didn't mean to startle you," he said softly, worry painting his face.
You realize you had misunderstood what he had been trying to do and panicked, 'Shit! Shit, shit, shit!' You couldn't tell what was the greater emotion in that moment, the shame of reacting to Lucifer, or the fact that the emotions from earlier where about to bubble up again. 'Do I try to push it down? Do I run for the bathroom? Shit. There is no hiding it, is there? He is going to find out about it now.'
You start to sit back down, still covering your eye, "I, uhh... I'm sorry... I don't... I didn't mean to yell at you like-"
"(y/n)" Lucifer said firmly, you look at him with your uncovered eye, tears starting to fill up the edge of your vision, "Please. Please tell me what's wrong. Why are you covering your eye? What made you jump so hard?"
You start to breathe heavily, "Are you sure you want to know?" you say with tears in your voice.
"Yes, my darling, I do. More than anything," Lucifer said, standing up slowly to come closer to you.
You look down, breathe, and lower you hand. Now that he was looking right at your eye, he could see how swollen it was under all of the make up.
"Is that... a black eye?" he said panicked. You nodded. He started to put some context clues together.
"Someone did this to you?" he asked, a little more sternness in his voice. You nodded again, the tears were starting to fall. "Someone from the Lounge?"
You nodded, "A client," you whispered.
"Did he do anything else?" he asked, trying to hold back the growing anger in his voice. You nodded. "Can you show me?" You froze, looking down, more tears falling, "Please don't be mad at me, I didn't want you to know, this shouldn't be something you worry about-"
"Darling," he says cutting you off again, "I am not mad at you, I am however mad at the sick fuck that did this to you. And I will worry about you, because I want to. Do you understand me?" You were not used to hearing him talk like this, it was scary, but in a comforting way. His words were growing in anger, but you understood it was not at you, it was for you.
You look up at him to see that his eyes had changed color, basically inverted, black slitted pupils now surrounded by golden irises and deep blood red sclera. They were terrifying and beautiful at the same time. You nodded, finally answering his question, and you started to take off your sweater. Lucifer saw your arms and torso littered with different sizes of bruises and deep bite marks. At the sight of them, horns grew out from his temples and a tail lashed out from his back. Again, he looked scarier, but for some reason, you were not afraid. You actually felt... safe? You had never seen someone so mad for you before.
Lucifer gently and slowly reached out for your arm, trying to make sure not to scare you further. "Is it like this on your legs too?" You nodded. You were about to ask if he needed to see them, when he pulled you into a tight hug. You were confused, but welcomed it. His hugs were always nice but this one felt, even better? All of your bruises and bites started to feel, lighter, and then the pain was gone. Lucifer released from your hug, and you looked down to see all of your marks were gone.
'He could heal too?! Fuck, is there anything he can't do?'
"Better?" he asked. You nodded. "Good, now. I'm gonna need a name and location. Now." he paused, "please."
You hesitated, you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you had been meeting with. But... he had not specifically asked for digression, and he was banned from the Lounge, and it would probably save Larry and the girls some trouble, and... fuck it, it was hell! Who cared!
"What are you going to do to him?" you asked. He smirked with a wicked smile, carefully reached out to softly hold your chin, and with a demonic resonance to his voice, he whispered, "Why darling, I'm going to make him suffer in a way that this realm has not tortured and tormented a soul in EONS, I am going to rip him his own dimension of time and space where he will be able to experience his body being ripped apart, piece by piece, and put back together, over and over again, for the rest of eternity."
You had no idea how to picture that and you didn't care... it was terrifying, but Lucifer's power was fucking HOT.
"Uhh... Jethro Hanson. Big house out in Pentagram city, near the inner city, very bright red, can't miss it," you spit out. He smiles, unfurls his six, big, beautiful wings from his back, gives you a soft kiss on the hand and says, "I'll be right back," before opening a portal above him and flying into it. It closes behind you and leaves you alone, in the dining room.
Your heart was racing, there were too many feelings swirling inside your mind, joy, sadness, rage, fear... lust. God, his full demon form was hot, what the hell? After a few minutes, the adrenaline wore off, and you found yourself on the couch starting to cry again, but this time... it felt GOOD. These tears were cathartic like nothing you had ever felt before, a hard, powerful cry.
After about 15-20 minutes, Lucifer reappeared, the same as he looked when he had left, just wiping his hands on themself after a job well done, as you would after a job well done. Lucifer heard your cries and ran to you, getting in his knees in front of you on the couch and cocooning you in his wings.
"Darling, what's the matter? I'm so sorry, did I scare you?" he said with words full of worry.
You shook your head, smiling and pressing your forehead to his, "No. Not at all. I'm just... I'm good. Really. I'm just not used to... feeling cared about, and... protected..." You choke out, before continuing to sob.
'Shit, shit, ok, what do I do?' he thought to himself. Then he remembered. He retracted his horns and tail, set his eyes back to their normal color, picked you up, laid down on the couch, and positioned you to lay on top of him, your head on his chest, wings wrapped around you. As you laid there, he rubbed your back as you continued to cry. "And as long as I am here, you will never have to know life without that, ever again," he said softly, so softly that you couldn't make it out over the sound of your own sobs.
Slowly, your tears started get get quieter, and your breathing started to slow. As Lucifer laid there with you on his chest, he started to card his fingers through you hair. What a dream you were to him, he had be so cared for by you, and now he was able to give that care back to you. That was honestly all he had wanted, was to have someone to be cared by and for. To have... someone to love.
Love?
Love.
'Oh my god... do I love her?' he thought at he looked down at your soft face. Studying the features of your face as you laid on his chest with this new idea, everything suddenly made sense. The nervousness, the desire for closeness, the way you lit up his world, the way your smile would wash his cares away.
He loved you.
That was about to make everything wayyyy more complicated.
______________________________________________________________
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love me low | neteyam sully
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Baby, I just wanna kiss you Stay until the day is done You don't even know just how much I need you Baby, I just wanna keep you
summary: y/n is in love with her best friend's brother but he's in love with her sister.
pairing: neteyam sully x f!omatikaya reader
word count: 10k
playlist: love me low - ai bendr, yes to heaven - lana del rey, umaasa- calein, xo - beyonce, cloud 9 - beach bunny, i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys, about you - the 1975, here with me - d4vd, can i - alina baraz & galimatias, moment - lildeath
warnings: aged up (neteyam and kiri are 18 whilst lo'ak and y/n are 17), misunderstanding trope!, jealously, protectiveness, talks of marriage, unhealthy family dynamic, assault, y/n is super hard on herself and cares about others more, blood, war, profanity, suggestive
She knew this was a bad idea from the get go. Despite the Olo'eyktan warnings to not wander out after dark for the sake of safety, his own son had come to her as the orange hue of the horizon seeped through the cave's openings to speak of a new area he found in the forest.
Trying to reject the younger Sully never really worked for Lo'ak was always persistent to take his best friend on whatever not so bright idea he had planned in his head.
Additionally, she would do anything to get out of her home. The constant berating from her mother and calling her every second to do something because her sister's precious hands couldn't bear to get rough from using them.
At first, nothing was wrong. Like always, she would follow the male and the human (a term she learned from Kiri because calling him an alien was far too mean), Spider, as he ran and swung through the trees before they stopped at a place she has never seen before. Vines that hung from the tree branches above. A question formed on her tongue but Lo'ak was already climbing up the trunk, his eyes set on a thick branch that stuck out high off the ground.
It was already too late to back out so she followed, having no idea what the male Na'vi was planning to do but she always knew that no matter what, he was going to shove off his skills as if he were performing for a circus. She didn't know what a circus was but she would always hear Olo'eyktan mumbling under his breath of how much of a complete circus it was whenever something didn't go to plan specifically because of his middle child.
At first, it was all fun and games. Despite the suspense, the fun he spent all night talking was about swinging on the extravagant amount of vines. Screams and laughs filled the air as the three took turns going back and forth on the long vine, the momentum allowing them to go from tree to tree.
They were having a lot of fun.
So she couldn't blame Lo'ak for how she ended up with her head being seconds away from becoming a meal for baby palulukans. While the other two tied the vines around their waist, she decided to be different and tie the rope to her ankle instead. Cheers filled the air once again as she spread her arms out to the refreshing wind. She swung back and forth at least three times. In the corner of her eye, she saw the herd coming from afar that prompted her to stiffen her posture. That would lead to her failure as gravity would take it's course, causing her to be hanging upside down.
Trying to untie the vine from her ankle took a lot of upper body strength that she was struggling to pull out at the moment. The two males atop of the tree too were struggling to pull up her up because of the many factors: how the long rope, gravity, and mind her language… fucking weak they are.
A scream, now out of fear, came out when she felt the snap of thanator jump through the air but missed by a couple of feet as she was still a bit off the ground.
Although there was only a handful of these little creatures here at the moment, she knew she was seconds away from the number of them multiplying by the seconds.
"Hey, hey! Help me up!” Y/N kept doing sit ups midair to avoid losing body parts from her heads. She could hear the bickering of the two from above and the vine budging at every attempt they had to try to pull her up. “You two have 10 fingers each. Use them, skxawngs!"
"I'd be nicer to the ones saving your life!" She didn’t know who did said that but that was the least of her worries since the vine did not shorten, it got longer. The snaps of the animals getting closer to her head. The probability of them taking off her head at 90% possibility now.
She heard their shouts of fear but a hum rang through her ears, cloudiness blurring her eyes as the blood rushed to her head.
In the moment of losing her consciousness, the herd had ran off in the other direction for who knows what reason before another blurred figure jumped into her view. They stepped down and stood in front of her, their face merely centimeters away from hers. Features familiar to the one of the fools that was still struggling to pull her back up.
It was when he sighed when she realized who it was. Neteyam.
From both trying to readjust how she looked while also trying to get her foot out of the stupid vine, she looked even more ridiculous when she fell into the field of grass below her from the vine cutting cut from above. Her legs and arms flared out in awkward positions.
Neteyam ran to her side, pushing back the hair that fell in front of her face and kept his hand on her cheek, “Are you okay?” His other hand quick to adjust her loincloth that went out of place.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Her cheeks feeling hot as she melted into his touch before her head flew to the side from him shoving her head.
“Now, what were you thinking?” Always too good to be true. She didn’t fight back when he helped her up from the ground.
Lo’ak and Spider came down from the tree, running over, “Brother, what a surprise to see you out here!” His shoulders folding back to mock Neteyam’s straight posture, “I see we all had the same idea of taking a late night walk.”
“Are you three insane? Are you asking for a death wish?”
All joking subsided, “We had it all handled. We’re just trying to have fun.”
“Have fun? Have fun?” Neteyam scoffed," This is what you call having fun? Somebody almost died." Lo'ak waved him off which only prompted the older male to continue," You both need to grow up. You're almost 18 and you're going to have to start acting like adults."
Lo'ak rolled his eyes," Then ask yourself why you followed us out here. Surely, you didn't think that Y/N was going to have a near death experience so why are you here, bro? What is that saying that the sawtute always say? FOMO? Fun out when more out?"
"It's fear of missing out." Y/N and Spider whispered to not interrupt the brothers' daily quarrel, eyeing one another in amusement.
Neteyam looked away in defeat that made Lo'ak proud," And we did have it handled. You came right when we had it." And although he said it with such confidence, his eyes diverted away because he knew he was wrong and he walked away before anyone could say anything.
"Handled, he says", Spider elbowed Y/N's side," The only thing that would be handled is there would be no horrendous singing on the way back."
She threw herself forward to jump on Spider but a hand grabbed her back, Spider sticking his tongue out at her before he caught up to Lo'ak. Her heart quickened again. Her eyes wandering from her arm to his hand, up his arm, and to his face.
"He's not wrong. How do you think I managed to find you? I followed where it seemed Eywa was covering her ears." Quick to act as if she wasn't staring at him when he looked down at her, Y/N shoved at his chest that moved up and down from laughter with her free hand with a roll of her eyes. Though he didn't budge, instead moving his hand away to wrap his arm around her shoulder.
She knew the way he touched her meant it no other way than platonic. Talks about the girls who also had eyes for him about how he is not affectionate towards others unless they are apart of his direct family. Y/N has been in this family for longer than she hasn't. Growing up with all of them had put her farther than what could be considered the friend zone but into the family zone.
She also knew that what she felt for him was different. There wasn't a time that she could pinpoint where she started to see him in a different light but it felt like she has forever. That she has loved him since forever.
As he talked to Lo'ak and Spider, her eyes had a mind of her own as she looked back up at him. Watching as the night sky illuminated his freckles.
_
The ride back was short but felt long. Despite Lo’ak not caring about Neteyam’s lectures, all of them dreaded Jake’s scoldings.
Y/N had to admit that he was intimidating but she knew his rough attitude was for ensuring the safety of all of them even if he tends to go a little too hard on Lo'ak. She was used to it all too. Constant lectures of how she should act and getting in trouble for the most smallest of things. At least him yelling at them was from the good of his heart.
At the moment, all she could do was simply enjoy how her arms were wrapped tightly around Neteyam's torso. Just as she was about to lay her head on his back, he angled his body so she could hear him over the wind that blew through them,"So where's my thank you for saving your life?"
Y/N squinted," Has Lo'ak misspoke? Did you have a need to fill your urge to be such a knight in shining amour?"
All the air escaped her lungs when he leaned back, "Only for you.". Arching his head back, the skin of their cheek skimming each other," I like the look on your face when I do."
"Whatever." She pushed his body back into a straight up position to hide her flusteredness. But the warm feeling had faded when she saw the rest of the family awaiting their arrivals at the entrance of High Camp.
Without a word, the four diverted their eyes away to the ground as they stepped off the ikrans. After Neteyam had helped her down, Lo'ak and him stepped in front of her to block her from the death stare their father help onto them. Of course, Spider had made his way to the front and tried to convince Olo'eyktan that it was his idea but he was quickly hushed by Kiri who was quick to pull him away with Tuk from the high tension area.
Using the boy's heights to her advantage, Y/N tiptoed to the side to try to make an escape and delay the consequences of her actions but a deep clear of Jake’s throat made her stop immediately in the steps.
"I expected better from you", Although he didn't state a name, it was clear who it was directed to. "All this time that you have to be training and finding a mate, you're instead messing around and not taking anything seriously."
"Sir." Y/N finally looked up from her feet but felt instant regret when both Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem had put their attention on her. “It was my doing. I wanted Lo’ak to show me what he’s been raving about and Neteyam only followed to make sure we were safe.”
Lo’ak shook his head, “ I actually really wanted to show Y/N and Spider this place I found so it was my idea to go out into the forest.”
Olo’eyktan sighed, “ I don’t care whose fault it is.” He pointed between the two, “ You both need to grow up. Somehow when there’s something on, it’s always you two and I’m tired of having to say the same thing over and over again especially to you.” He pointed at Lo’ak. He opened his mouth as if he had more to say but Neytiri cleared her throat and it only came out as a huff, “Don’t make me find out you’re out there after dark again. I don’t even want to look at you two right anymore, dismissed.”
It wasn't until they heard their footsteps of the couple stray far away did they look up at one another. Despite the nerves that racked their body when getting yelled at, they could help but snicker at each other's inconvenience.
"Come on, guys!" Spider waved from hut they were huddled in. It wasn't until they raced to the group did Y/N feel the sharp pain on her ankle, kneeling over next to Kiri and clasping onto the raw skin. The vine must've dug into her skin when she was struggling but she didn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it. It’d heal over time.
“What did Father go on a rant about this time? And does it even matter? He says the same thing yet Lo’ak is still going to do it.”, Kiri earned a high five from Spider on the side.
"It's so unfair. All they do is yell at me and when they look at you, they go "Y/N, Y/N, you mustn't spend such time with a delinquent.", Lo'ak mocked his father's brooding tone.
"You are a bad influence." Y/N avoided his swing through the air, making a face at him but also because the movement made her lean down against the wound.
A smirk replaced her pained look as Kiri listed out the multiple occasions in which Lo’ak did not listen to their father and how many times he was always caught.
“Y/N, are you okay?”, Tuk asked from behind, leaning up against Y/N’s back. Oh, ever the so observant. Y/N couldn’t help but affectionally rub her head but the little girl paid no attention to the cooing as she hovered over to the hand covering her ankle, lifting up Y/N’s hand, “ Oh my gosh, you’re hurt!” The girl's eyes widened, Y/N holding a finger up to her lips to shush her. Luckily, Lo’ak moved the topic from complaining about the consequences of his own actions to tease Neteyam who was quietly sitting on the window sill behind all the girls.
“Dad's all like " Neteyam, you've got to find your mate."". He teased, hoping over everyone to poke him on the arm, " Little does he know that all the girls in the village have been lining up for him and yet he doesn't care one bit."
Spider stood on the other side of Neteyam, holding his chest," Maybe he isn't into that crowd."
"Either way, we'll help you out, bro. It must be hard to juggle picking a mate while also being the best son."
"Oh shut up the both of you. And Lo'ak, you said it, not me.", He swatted at them with the cloth he had in his hand. " Besides I've already chosen."
"You've already chosen?" Kiri and Tuk gasped.
"When did you choose? How did you choose so quick?" Y/N propped hers on her knees, Tuk's body falling onto her lap.
"I guess I always knew." He shrugged," Just finding the right moment and way to tell her first. I don't want to tell my parents yet in case they make her promised to me against her will."
"Oh ~ so romantic." Lo'ak wiggled his fingers, Neteyam swatting the cloth at him again.
Y/N noticed that even though his annoying little brother was mocking him with a deep voice and making their other siblings laugh, he was staring out into the air and not even defending himself like his mind was elsewhere. She couldn't help the ache that came with the realization. He must really like this girl if he is hoping not to mess up with her.
I wish you would look at me.
As if he could hear her thoughts, he looked in her direction and she locked eyes with his. Her breath hitching as he smiled down at her instead of looking away,"What?" He mouthed.
She tilted her head and mouthed back," Who is it?"
He playfully shrugged, earning a scowl in return. Right as he was about to get up and walk over to her, Lo'ak stood in front of him with Spider. Their hands were clasped together and they looked out into the distance with starry eyes, "Oh how I love you, Neyetam." Spider spoke in a high pitched tone while Lo'ak deepened his already deep voice," Come with me as we venture into each other's bodies-"
"Lo'ak, Tuk is here." Kiri growled under her breath and rolled her eyes when she heard Tuk asking Y/N what does venturing into another person's body means. "Besides, I wouldn't make fun of him so much. He's managed to find his in a short time while who knows how long you'll take when the time comes." Kiri pointed out which Lo'ak matter of factly responded, " I don't have to worry about that. I've got Y/N. Mates for life."
"As if!" Y/N threw a pillow that Tuk handed to her to hit the male square in the face that erupted the whole hut into laugher again.
The laughter faded when a figure appeared at the opening that caused everyone to stop what they were doing.
Y/N followed their eyes and she felt as a needle had poked her balloon that was her mood, deflating it.
"Jeez, you guys are acting as if I'm a monster." Her older sister, Eyota, stood up. Her braids falling behind her back like waves when she brushed it back. Y/N knew the quietness wasn't because that they didn't like Eyota. It was farther than that. Everyone adored Eyota like how they adored Y/N. Though it was different. While they wanted to be her friend, they wanted to be Eyota's other. She knew Lo'ak's sayings were a joke because the boy has talked about how pretty her older sister is to her face and not that she cared for Lo'ak's opinion, he has never called her pretty and instead resorted to comparing her to a fish he caught the other day.
“Hi Yam." Eyota’s words slurred, making Kiri and Y/N side eye one another.
"Did she really nickname him after a vegetable?" Kiri whispered.
"Hello, Eyota." Neteyam leaned back into his previous position, cropping his leg up onto the frame.
"Hey, Eyota." Lo'ak leaned up against a pillar, attempting to cross his leg over the other but it only resulted it in him losing balance.
"What do you need?" Y/N asked, Eyota looking away from the older Sully brother and pointed with her head towards their own hut," Mother's calling for you."
_
"You're an embarrassment."
Y/N watched as her mother placed scoops of Teylu on Eyota's leaf, chewing on the outside of the salty seed.
"The Olo'eyktan." Her mother seethed," The Toruk Makto."
Reaching over to grab a handful of teylu from the middle of the table, her mother slapped it away.
"In front of the whole village, he addressed you." She grabbed away the leaf in Y/N's hand before she could retract it away," And you still sit here with no shame as you eat away all of your father's earnings."
"My love, it's okay-"
"It's not okay. She thinks she can run around with that demon and drag along the Sully boys into her troubles. Then doesn't even bother to come home after the Olo'eyktan scolds her." Her face scrunched up into one of frustration, disgust dripping from her tongue," It's because you spoil her that she's turned out like this."
The table remained silent, the sound of the crunching and chewing echoing in the air before her mother asked Eyota how she was doing on finding a mate.
She hated how gushy they sounded and how Eyota is praised for the bare minimum. Call it jealously. Call it envy. Y/N didn't care, she simply wanted to be treated with respect for once.
"I've had a lot of suitors but there's one that I'm planning to take a step further with."
"Whose the lucky boy?", Father butted in.
"Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan."
"Ah the Sully boy?" Mother clapped. Father's eyes widening as he spoke with his mouth full," The future Olo'eyktan?
For the first time the whole night, Mother turned to Y/N and spoke in a civil and sweet tone," Would you help your sister? Your friendship with the children will benefit her greatly."
Hate was a strong word, Y/N loved her older sister unconditionally. Y/N would never feel that way for Eyota but it was hard not to resent the older girl when she was never defending her from their mother and was now planning to court someone that Y/N has always loved.
Unable to breathe, Y/N abruptly stood from the table and sat in the corner with her back towards her family.
"Not even excusing herself from dinner and not answering a simple question. What an ignorant child." Each word poking more and more into the facade she was trying to keep up that she didn't care anymore. Opening a book that was found during one of the raids, the crummy pages of words and pictures serving as an escape for her as her mother continued to ask Eyota about what her plans were.
_
She didn't know when she fell asleep but the book was laid out flat on her lap and the hut was now quiet as everyone else had tucked themselves away for the night.
The ache in the back of her neck reminding her of the position she slept in. Noticing that everything from tonight's dinner was still left out, she mentally noted to herself to clean up after stretching. Careful to not step on anything or anyone, she pushed past the drapes. Once the night air hit against her skin, her body convulsed into stretches, raising her arms above her head.
A rustle made her crotch her arms down into defense mode and turn to where the noise came from.
There Neteyam stood with a bowl of an unknown substance and the same cloth he was holding a few hours ago.
"Teyam, you scared me." She set her arms down and crossed them over each other to warm herself from the cold. "What are you doing out here so late?"
He held up the materials in his hand and looked down at her ankle that she had completely forgotten about. But now that it was mentioned again, she started to feel the pain searing up her leg. "Oh this thing? It'll heal."
"When? After it gets infected? Go ahead and sit down." He jumped down so he was on a lower level, Y/N sitting down on the wooden ledge. Her body betraying her again as her heart began to race from his touch. However, it was replaced when the cold ointment met with the gash. Hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as she hissed in pain.
"Drama queen." He nudged," You know it's kind of crazy you came out right as I was coming."
"I have a sense of when idiocy comes around."
"It must go so crazy when you look at yourself."
He caught her ankle when she moved it out to try to kick him. She kicked again in efforts to get out of his grip but gave up after a while, allowing him to finish cleaning and put Mo'at’s medicine on.
A comfortable silence blanketing over them with the exception of some hisses from pain. An unknown amount of time had passed before the cloth was wrapped around her ankle, Neteyam’s thumb running along the closing to ensure that it was secure before he began to massage the area.
“Did you like the book?”
“It was good. A bit hard to get through because there’s a lot more words than there are pictures but I like it a lot more than the other ones you brought back.”
“Wasn’t my favorite ending.”
"Really? I liked it."
"Is that right?" He took the spot besides her, sitting close enough that their thighs touched, her heart beating once again beating harder than it should be, "Care to explain?"
"I mean sure, I wished the couple should've stayed with each other till the end. But it was extremely realistic that they didn't. Sometimes happy endings are meant to be."
"I beg to disagree."
"Oh, is that right?" She mocked his previous tone," Would you care to explain?"
Neteyam scooted closer than they were before, leaning his arm behind her," I believe that even if the world is against two lovers being together, there's always one path that brings them to a happy ending."
Is there a way for them to be together? Even if her parents were going to be against it because her sister had verbally stated her want for him first. Even if she was considered to be family by his and isn't mostly likely not seen as anything more by him? Will she have the happy ending he speaks of if she were to voice her feelings to him?
"Teyam, who are you planning to court?" She held her hand up in defense," If you don't mind me asking."
"I'd like to keep it as a surprise." He nudged her side," In fact I think you'd like her. You'd probably know her the best out of everyone."
"Interesting. Is she cute?"
"So cute."
"Even cuter than me?"
He cupped her cheeks with both of his hands and squished them together, making her lips pucker out," Now who could ever be as cute as you?"
Scrunching her nose in an attempt to shake off the jittery feeling. It didn't help that when she looked at him all she was was flowers and a bright light that illuminated around him. She didn't know it was her pure imagination or Eywa was working to create a show for him.
He then lowered his tone and slid his hands down onto her shoulders, "Now that we're on this subject somewhat. What does your sister think of me?"
And it was as if someone reached in and squeezed her heart. The tightness in her chest overwhelming every sense in her body. Why did it have to be her? Why does it always have to be her?
The signs were so clear in front of her. The special nickname she had for him and how quick she was to choose him. The fact that she knew her sister the best out of everyone and how he would get quiet like Lo'ak would in case he would say something embarrassing that would ruin her perception of him. Neteyam too cared about Eyota's opinion.
When she hoped he was talking about her, he was talking about her.
_
It’s been a week since that night. Her father had stepped out and interrupted the conversation so she didn't have to go on a spiel of how Eyota liked him as well because that would have honestly taken away all of her digniity. Managing to escape the question, she bid Neteyam a good night without looking back and had a sleepless night.
Neteyam's bullshit interpretation of the book was not about her and him clearly. The two main characters are Eyota and him. For she was only a side character to their love story.
If the question wasn't obvious enough to fix her narrative, when returning back with the buckets of water that her mother had requested, Neteyam stood with Eyota in front of their hut with flowers in his hand. Talks that she's heard when she spends time with other girls in the clan about how flowers tend to be the first part of the courting phase.
Now she wasn’t going a downhill spiral where she was going to let herself fall claws of depression. No, she couldn't sit around and mope about it. If the two wanted each other, she couldn't stop because in the end like Neteyam said, if two lovers are meant to be together, they are mean't to be.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t pain her to have to talk to him, knowing that he does not return the same feelings to her and having to watch him court her sister.
At first, it was as simple as trying to be as touchy as before. Refusing to ride on his ikran together or walking with Kiri and Tuk when she ventured out into the forest. But all failed the day they went out for a swim and Neteyam had beat Lo'ak to offering her hand back onto the solid grand, his arm wrapped around her to spare some of his warmth on the way back home.
For the past two weeks, she’s been walking out of any area he walks in before he approaches her after a specific amount to not make it obvious. Thought it’s been enough times so for it to be. She’s been declining Lo’ak offers to go out into the forest because she knew in the end that Neteyam would be there. She only went when she knew Neteyam would be going with his father on another raid.
It was dumb but she had to do it to protect her heart.
There had been a time when she came close to ending whatever she was doing but when she walked towards the Sully’s hut, Eyota’s hand was running up and down Neyetam’s arm and he wasn’t budging to move it, leaning against the hut as they engaged in conversation. That pinch in her chest reminding her of why she needed to take this time to heal.
She did occasionally make her rounds around the Sully's hut but not as often as she used to, finding things to occupy her time.
She was able to avoid interacting with Neteyam easily that didn't garner much questions from anybody except for maybe Lo'ak who was used to the girl dropping everything to be able to spend time with them.
Neytiri had offered to her to come over to learn how to make this dish that Y/N had previously stated a loving for. As the two sat crouched over several cut up ingredients, Neteyam had walked in to grab a cover for Tuk which was an excuse to come in and invite Y/N to chat outside. Unintentionally, Y/N made eye contact with him. His hand coming up to wave at her but Y/N turned away and asked Neytiri what kind of plant she held. A frown formed on the boy, bundling up the cover in his hands. He stood for a good second to see if Y/N would look back up but he walked out in defeat when she didn't.
Unknowingly to them both, Neytiri had saw it all and looked over at Jake, widening her eyes as if she was questioning the interaction but he could only shrug.
The morning after, Y/N decided it was time for her to learn how to make baskets as the ones her family has were starting to wear out from use. Though it sucked when her fingers were quite cooperating, "No, 'evenge, you must go under and then over." Mo'at grabbed the straw basket out of her hands and fixed the uneven pattern that Y/N had created.
"Sorry, Mo'at." She beamed at the older woman who only humphed. Propping herself onto her knees to watch her do correctly, she hadn't noticed the two other beings surrounding them.
It wasn't until the air in Spider's mask exposed the two did Y/N looked over in annoyance," Can I help you?"
"Want to go hunting?"
"I'm busy."
"Please." Lo'ak clasped his hands together.
"No." Mo'at handed the basket back to her with the correct pattern and tightened one.
"Pretty please."
“Kiri is going." Spider included but it didn't help much since Y/N shook her head again.
"Well that's one too many for you to bother now."
She successfully folded in a one and proudly held it up for Mo’at to look at who only shook her head and fixed it again.
“Why don’t you want to go?”
“I’m too lazy.”
Lo’ak groaned and began to go on a whole rant about how even if he says that he’s tired, he still has to go. He shut up after Mo’at sent him a stare. It didn’t stop his pleas for her to go, Spider joining in. Though they sounded like whiney babies, it was all white noise to her as she tried again to weave the same pattern but instead failed.
Mo’at grumbled and snatched the basket away from her, “ Go. You are not helping and these two are hurting my ears.” She shooed them away with a wave of her hands and didn’t stop until they were out of sight.
“Cmon, Y/N.” Both of their arms wrapped around her shoulder with Spider falting off her a bit because of his shorter height, Lo’ak joked,“You’d never be a lady if you tried.”.
Just as he said that, she saw Neteyam and Eyota together besides an ikran, the comment striking harder than she usually let it. Huffing out a deep breath, she crossed her arms together with a frown as they made their way to their own ikrans.
_
The large group gathered around their instructor. Much to some people’s annoyance, specifically the ones with the same last name as the teacher, their instructor today is Jake.
The group gets divided into two with one in the ground and the other in the sky to cover as much area as they can. It's done with a team leader picking out who they want in their groups but with Jake, he tended to put his family with him and several others in his group and then the remaining in the other. He knew he could trust the others to do their job but with all of his family sans Tuk participating, he'd rather keep a close eye.
"As last time, we'll be-"
Y/N rose her hand, bowing to apologize for suddenly interrupting," May I be excused from the sky team today and stay on the ground today? I'm not feeling all that well.". The reality was that she rode with Neteyam last time and she was feeling sick at the thought of being in such close proximity to him. She couldn't be feeling those butterflies when he was going to be betrothed to her sister.
Kiri was surprised, nudging her on the side. "There's no way you're leaving me with those losers."
"That's fine, Y/N. Make sure to stay close to the group in case something goes wrong."
With a close lipped smile, she stepped back and Jake continued to state his plan, most of the group's attention and ears on him except Lo'ak and Spider that were groaning and whining to Y/N on switching teams which ended with Kiri telling them to shut up and leave her alone even though she mumbled under her breath that it'd be no fun with only boys. Y/N giggled out a "sorry" that didn't at all sound sincere, missing Neteyam's hard stare on her.
_
“Has Y/N been acting strange at all to you?”, Spider asked.
“Yeah, kind of.” Lo’ak twirled a stick in his hand, “Like she stills spends time with us but she also doesn’t. I don’t know… she’s been kind of distant.”
Kiri scoffed out a laugh, “Maybe she found out she can do better than hang out with you all day.”
“You know the "you" includes you as well, right?”
“Did you forget that Y/N and I are girls which means we have a different connection which means … we talk amongst ourselves… especially about you all."
While the two boys pestered Kiri about what kind of gossip the girls do, Neteyam took front and moved large branches and leaves out of the way for an easier walkway. Though on the outside, it seemed that he could care less about the topic at hand and was simply alert on his surroundings. His mind was else where like it's been for the the past month, no, for the past two years.
His thought were interrupted when he heard a familiar giggle come from below. Rushing to the source, he leaned over the ledge and saw Y/N. Not alone though but with another boy, Zakum, that he always found a bother because of immature he is and now he was 10 times annoying when Neyetam saw how his hands were placed on her waist and the other on her arm as to position her to aim the arrow towards the stream.
The others had joined him and watched as the arrow was wasted into the water, missing the fish. Y/N pouted back at Zakum, Zakum patting her head affectionally before they both returned back into the prior position to try again.
“Isn’t Y/N a perfect shot?” Spider frowned.
Neteyam nodded. He knew because he was the one who taught her. He was the one who had his arms around her to get a perfect stance and the one who taught her the secrets of having perfect aim.
“See what I mean? There's something wrong because if she can easily get her target, why did she miss?” As if lightbulb had switched on above his head, “Oooh.”
They then all collectively placed it together with Lo’ak and Kiri ooo’d teasingly in spite of their friend knowing how to flirt but stopped when they looked towards Neteyam, his face stoic and his jaw clenched.
The voice of their father caught their attentions through the throat microphone that they were getting off track, the regrouping for the flyers occurring a while ago.
“Let’s go.” Neteyam threw himself up from the ground and refused to look at anyone, roughly pushing away anything in his way.
_
After a successful hunt, all the members of the clan gathered around to celebrate the winnings of the day. The meat of the strumbeest and fish grilling over the fire, families happily with one another as they fed each other. Some engaging in some indecent behaviors that involved kava and its disastrous effects.
Y/N held onto Tuk's hands as the little girl guided her around the dance line. Now instead of following the traditional dance, Tuk was making her own moves and moving her feet in a different way that made Y/N trip over her own feet when she attempted to follow her.
Tuk groaned out of frustration," Y/N, you've got to get yourself together before you fall on me."
"Come on, Tuk Tuk, slow down then! You're a much better dancer than I am."
She stuck her tongue out," I know that." She proudly grinned. She dragged Y/N around the fire to follow the others in the dance line. Even though Tuk did take the dancing quite seriously, the child would never miss out on the chance to be lifted up in the air. Y/N twirling her around in the air before the both of them got dizzy.
Stumbling to an empty spot, they both fell back onto the soft cushion of the ground. Tuk rolled over to lay on her side, her head laying on Y/N's arm.
"Y/N, I'm glad that Neteyam chose-"
A small shadow that stood over them, Tuk quickly sitting up and regaining her composure. Y/N lifted her head to find a little boy holding his hand out for Tuk to take. The blue of Tuk's ears fading into a light blue. Tuk's hand reached out for the boys but quickly retracted it when she realized that Y/N was besides her. Her eyes looking over for permission.
"Go ahead. I'm all worn out."
Tuk didn't think twice before running off with the boy.
Damn, even Tuk was having a better love life than her. She scoffed to herself. Maybe she can wallow in her self pity now. As she was in the process of laying back down, something caught her off guard that made her sit right back into position.
Eyota's legs over another person, her lips close to his ears to whisper unspeakable things. And that other person was someone that surely was not Neteyam.
Fury burned within her. She didn't think twice about her actions and if anyone was going to stare at her, the trail to her older sister almost leaving behind smoke if she had faster than she did. "What the hell are you doing?"
Eyota widened her eyes and immediately stood up, the male besides her obviously intoxicated by the way he missed her arm when he reached out to pull her back down.
"What is that language? Is that what you learn when you-"
"Shut up." Eyota and Y/N both equally stunned but Y/N continued on," Why are you being touchy with another boy? Aren't you close to having a secure mate? Like Neteyam."
"Ughh." Eyota's scowl returned, "I never confirmed that I wanted him. The whole point of finding a mate is to explore and why would I stay put with one?"
"You told Mother that Neteyam was the one you wanted to take a step further with. Isn't it working out, why are you-"
"Y/N, can I not interested in another people too? Sure, he's cute and a good warrior but I'm young, let me have fun. And when have you ever been so interested in my life? Is it because yours is so disappointing?"
Y/N brushed away the last comments, "Neteyam is my friend, you shouldn't treat him like he's some kind of toy." Y/N felt her body shaking from such anger.
"Ach! Then you can have your friend! All he does is talk about you anyways. It's insufferable."
He talked about her? Y/N's face softening at the thought, unaware that Eyota was staring at her little sister weirdly, stepping back to sit back to sit with the drunk Na'Vi.
A hum ringing through her ears as if time stopped, eyes trailing around the crowds before her eyes landed on him. His gear still on from today but paint decorated his face. He talked amongst his friends, his hands motioning a ikran flying through the air. As if he could feel her stare on him, he momently looked up and then back up, interlocking his eyes with hers. The sound of her heartbeat thumped in her ears when he didn't break it.
"Y/N!" Zakum appeared from thin air, his arms wrapping around her. A tug to pull her in the direction of everyone else. "Dance."
"No, I'm okay." Looking back in the direction Neyetam previously stood, he was no longer there.
"Cmon! It's tradition. It is the way. Dance!"
"Zakum, I am quite busy." Trying to squeeze her body out of his grip but he only kept a tighter hold.
"For a quick second, I promise and then you can go on as you please."
"Go with the boy, Y/N!" Eyota claimed, tossing her head back to take another large gulp of kava.
Seeing as there was no way out of this, she stopped struggling and let him lead her to the large crowd, his hands on her hips so tightly that she could move in the other direction if she wanted to. As everyone stood in a line, Zakum faced her and mirrored the others in line.
Typically Y/N is able to keep up but her mind wandered else where, unable to concentrate. The sound of everyone's voices and the hot air of the fire being all too much for her at the moment. All she wanted to do at the moment was talk to Neteyam about what Eyota said last.
Zakum's hot breath radiated down her neck, his skin clammy against hers. His hands running from where their hands were linked to his hips. Lower and lower he went until-
"Don't touch me like that." She pushed him away, a face full of disgust clear on her face. A stunned look on Zakum's face as he tumbled back. Taking this as an opportunity to walk and finding a breath of fresh air in an empty space away from everyone, she felt herself being pulled back around to him by her arm. Both of his hands now holding a tight grip on her.
"Where's the Y/N from earlier today? The one who was practically begging me to touch her."
The Y/N earlier only acted in that way to prove Lo'ak and Spider wrong that indeed she could be seen as a woman even though it was down in a way that didn't make her feel comfortable whatsoever. When she heard the group that hide behind the bushes rushing away, she moved out of Zakum's touch immediately. Apparently Zakum didn't get a hint that she wasn't interested when she was extremely annoyed by his flirtatious ways before and after the act.
"Get off of me."
"Come on, you wanted me earlier. Change of heart?"
A pain felt in her wrists when his grip on her grew tighter and tighter each time she budged. He used his tall height as a advantage to push her back until she felt the stabs of scratchy bark of the tree.
"You think you have better options? I'm the best you have. I can prove it to you right here. Nobody's around."
Disgust ran through her veins and clung to her skin, bile rising up her throat. Frustration causing tears to brim at the corners of her eyes. Though, she didn't stop her fight against him. Spreading her firsts to push with her palms at his chest. "Leave me alone, you perv."
"Stop fighting." He gritted through his teeth, pushing both of her arms against her chest. The pressure making it hard for her to move and breathe.
Y/N shut her eyes tight. Wishing constantly in her head that he'd magically go away and hoping that a good idea would appear into her head.
Silence.
His sweaty palms being replaced by a familiar warm embrace, the beaded bracelet pressing against her skin confirming exactly who it was. Her vision blurry at first when her eyes fluttered open, leaning into Kiri's arm.
She saw silhouettes of the two men in front of her, one pushing back the other.
"Neteyam, leave him. Let's get Y/N home."
Though he didn’t listen. Everything happened so quick but in the moment, it felt as if it was in slo-mo.
The way Neteyam threw his arm back to land a punch square in the middle of Zakum's face, the blood trickling down from his nose. Zakum threw himself toward’s Neteyam’s torso to push him on the floor but Neteyam held his place, placing another hit to his face. Zakum returned the hit with one to Neteyam's side that fell weak against Neyetam's move to knee Zakum's stomach. The blow making him fall to the ground, Neteyam hovering over him. How he kept going back in, his knuckles landing each time on the other boy's face.
The two were split up suddenly by a taller male. "Stand down.", Jake's strong voice ringing through the air, his body sandwiched between the two to hold his son back from the other. Neither of them had even seen him approach the commotion, Lo'ak clearly out of breath from trying to get his father in time before the fight escalated any further.
Neteyam didn't care though. A spine chilling look in his eyes. An emotion none of them had seen before. Sure, she's seen him annoyed and upset but this was rage. A look clear and evident that he wasn't done with Zakum.
"Can't even fight his own fights without Daddy stepping in." Zakum spat, Neteyam stepped forward with his fist up but Jake blocked him.
"You best shut your mouth before you find yourself in more trouble than you already are." Jake glared at Zakum before turning back to the others in the area. "Kiri, take your brother..." His eyes softening at the sight of the blue skin of Y/N's wrist turning a light purple. As if he was starting to get a clear understanding of what had occurred not more than five or so minutes ago," and Y/N to get their injuries checked."
Not wasting a second to avoid Jake's scolding of another member of the clan, they were quick to walk away from the scene. The last thing Y/N had saw when she looked back was Zakum's parents standing, their forehead creased from their frowns and the sound of yelling being loud for them to hear from where they were.
_
No words were exchanged. She knew purely from the way her mother was refusing to look at her that she had messed up tonight.
Her father helping her apply the medicine Mo'at had given to her before she was pulled away by her family to their own hut. She did want to stay with them to assure that everything was okay especially since she was the one that was at fault and caused this commotion to happen.
"Did he..." Her father's eyes watering, his body completely shutting down and refusing to even finish the sentence. Y/N placed her hands over his and shook her head. Cries racked through his body as he with his forehead pressed down to her hands.
Towards the side of the room, her sister was sound asleep underneath a blanket, the smell of the liquor she drank radiating off of her. Their mother hovered over her, a hand reaching out to smooth out the older daughter's hair.
Oddly, Y/N didn't feel the green envy that she typically felt when she saw her mother caring more for her sister. Despite what had happened to her, her mother still repelled any sense of worry to her and only cared for the simply drunk sibling. So it wasn't worth feeling.
Maybe it didn't matter what she did. It didn't matter how much she cared for her family. It didn't matter that she sacrificed her heart for her sister in hopes that her mother would be proud of accomplishing such a task. Nothing worked.
Maybe if she realized this long before, she wouldn't have gone through this effort to distance herself from Neteyam and potentially ruined the friendship they had.
_
The chance to talk to him seemed to pass her every time. After having breakfast with her family and taking care of the aftermath of what the kava had done to her sister who woke up with a shooting headache and had projected vomited everywhere, she was stopped by Zakum who was accompanied by his father to apologize for how he acted last night.
Quick to forgive with her mind only focusing on what Eyota had told her last night about how all Neteyam had done was talk about her. She had made to their hut but she was a few minutes off as both Lo'ak and Neteyam had gone with the war party. She used that time to apologize for the events that occurred last night but Neytiri was quick to tell the girl that it wasn't her fault while Kiri reproached her for even considering that she was.
It wasn't until later that that day when night had fallen did the opening of her family's hut swished open, the youngest Sully standing in the opening. All four pairs of eyes startled and all watched as Tuk ran over to Y/N to pull at her arm, her chest heaving up and down from what seem like she had ran here.
"Tuk Tuk, what's wrong?"
"You have to come." Urgency dripping off from her tongue," It's important." She didn't look at anyone else in the room except for Y/N, her small hands barely wrapped around the circumference of her arm. Tears streaming down her face, using all of her weight to try to pull Y/N up.
"Tuk, wait. What's wrong? You have to calm down and explain to me what is going on."
"The sky people attacked." Her words jumbled as snot and tears ran down into her mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with Neteyam. Norm took him and I didn't even see him. He was bleeding so much, Y/N."
Not only Y/N but everyone in that hut stood and ran with the child to where people were returning back. It wasn't an exaggeration to say this was the worst they have seen so far. Usually people would return with as much as a scratch but the skin of several people that were being lifted past her were almost close to falling off. Bubbles littered several other people's skin, Mo'at handing off medicine to others to be able to care for as much of the injured as she can. Several people huddled together as cries were heard among the chaos hinting that there were losses this time or they had gone missing.
Her eyes surfed the crowd to find Lo'ak and his father stood towards the opening. From their posture and the veins that popped out from Jake's throat, he was yelling at Lo'ak. That she would question later but she could get a sense that Lo'ak may have been partly to blame for what had happened today.
A breath of relief to see them both standing, she was quick on her feet and followed Tuk to them. Colliding her body to Lo'ak's, not caring if he wasn't finished getting berated. Lo'ak's returning the embrace as he wrapped his arms around her torso quickly. Hearing him whispering reassurances that he was okay, she remembered that one person was missing and circumstances Tuk had told her.
"Lo'ak, how's Neteyam?" An obvious strain in her voice as she thought of the worst.
Lo'ak's heavy sigh and the look in Jake's eyes making her heart drop to her stomach, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as tears immediately came streaming out.
"Y/N!", Kiri called for her just as her knees were about to give out from underneath her. Neytiri trailing behind as they ran over to Y/N. "He's refusing help." Neytiri spoke through dry heaves. "Norm was able to take the bullet out but he's not letting anyone touch him to clean his wounds or look at any other. There's still a lot of blood."
"He's asking for Y/N." Kiri pointed. "He keeps saying he wants her and chanting her name like she's going to appear."
So he is alive. Resisting the urge to hit Lo'ak in the stomach for scaring her but she figured he knew as much as she did about what was going on.
She quickly wiped her ears as Neytiri walked over to her and placed a hand onto her shoulder. Plead in her eyes,"Y/N, sweetie. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but I beg you to forgive him or forgive yourself."
Y/N immediately agreed, finding no strength to say no to Neytiri who bowed her head as a thank you. The two guided her the box that was full of pods for avatars, all the metals in the room shining in her eyes. Kiri handed her a mask to help her get better control of her breathing from the toxins from the air inside. Her feet feeling cold against the floors and her body full of nerves as she inched towards the closed door at the end of the hall.
Silently she entered the room with medicine that Kiri claimed would sting less compared to what Mo'at was giving everyone else, the boy hunched over with his body facing the wall. She could tell he knew he was in the room by the way his ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. A white bandage was wrapped around his upper torso but the rest of his body still full of open wounds. 
She walked around and stood in front of him, eyeing the large blood spot where the bullet had entered. Cautiously she brought her hand up and placed it carefully on the gauze. Feeling his stare on the side of her face, she refused to look up in fear of how her calm facade would drop and instead moved her hand down to the much gnarly scratches that littered the open skin. 
With still no words spoken between them, she set aside the bowl and instead grabbed a discarded towel that she believed was being used to clean his cuts before he became troublesome and everyone had given up.
Right as she was placed the towel onto a bloody wound, Neteyam hissed in pain. She tried to go slower and dab it instead of rubbing but he continued to groan. verbally letting out grunts of "ows.". 
Deciding there was no way to ease the pain, she continued to clean off the blood less carefully and pressed down on one that was still leaking out. 
His hand shot up to grab at her arm, making her finally look up at him to see that he was crying. 
"Wow, I didn't know you were such a baby."
He obviously didn't find that funny as he blinked away the water that gathered at the linings of his eyes, his eyes rolling when he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
"You try getting blown up and shot at and not cry." 
"I'd rather not." 
Usually they'd laugh but the tension that filled the room stunted their chance to, only resorting back to the static silence. Y/N looked back down at the seeping wound and began to dab at it again.
"You know you're all I could think about."
She stopped. Only for a moment before she continued to clean the cut as if she didn't hear him. Not because she wanted to avoid confrontation but she refused to believe what he said was real.
"When I felt the bullet go through me, all I could think about was you. Wondering what the hell I did to make you to so upset that you couldn't even have talked to me. And I got so scared because I thought I was going to die out there without finding out what I did wrong and how you refuse to even look at me in the eye" He grabbed at her arm again but this time by her wrist and pulled it away from she was doing, her attention as well. Goosebumps running up her arm when he inched her closer to him, peering down at her even though he was seated," Especially when you have always told me to be honest about my feelings so why is that when I am, you're upset with me? Remember thinking, is what I did so bad? If I had known you would've acted this, I wouldn't have done so."
"That’s not the point, Teyam. You say that now but you would’ve resented and I couldn’t bear have you be upset with me.” Y/N pushed his arms away from her, cautious to not be too rough. "Teyam, I just needed time to get over it."
"All you had to do with me was be honest with me. Because I wouldn't have cared. I could never risk not having you in my life."
He wouldn't have cared. It felt as if everything had shifted two steps back when they were moving one step forward.
"Then what’s the point?” She threw the towel to the side. The fury ran strong through her veins, not expecting him to be this cold about how she felt for her. “ You’re such a fucking asshole.”
"Excuse me?"
"You wouldn't have cared? Well guess what, Neteyam, people have feelings and while you couldn't care, I'd still have to sit there with my feelings for you and watch you be all lovey dovey with my own sister. And I know my worth and I'm not going to sit there and act like I’m happy for you two and watch you try to make her yours."
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion," Wait what? Your sister? What does Eyota have to do with this?"
"Gosh if I had known how bad you are with girls, I would've have gone for Lo'ak. But of course I'm one of the many fools that has to be in love with you" She scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "First of all, skxawng, if you like Eyota, why would you talk about me so much? That's why she's moved on from you so fast. "
A offended look on his face appeared on his face,"I'm bad with girls? I'm far from being bad with girls. If anything, I've tried every- Wait... you're in love with me?" A smirk replacing the grimace on his face.
"Yeah. Not that'd you care or anything." She huffed," I swear, Neteyam, get that look off your face before I smack you because you're really hurting my feelings."
"Oh I'm hurting your feelings? Y/N, I've been waiting for a response from you for what seems like forever. I was wondering when you would flat out reject me."
Now it was her turn to be confused," But I saw you giving her flowers. And you asked that night before what she thought of you."
"I was giving her flowers for you. Fucks sake, they even were your favorite ones. Your mother was there as well. And I asked her what she thought of me because I was going to be courting her sister so I had to make that she saw me in a good light. And before you get confused, you. I wanted her approval so that I could pursue you."
Though the picture was perfectly drawn for her and the tie of the knot becoming unraveling and untangled, she couldn't believe it. Not when her whole life, Eyota was always first choice. She couldn't accept this reality because it simply couldn't be true, " No." She shook her head. "No, there's no way you could be choosing me. Because everyone likes Eyota more. I'm the friend and you're confused but we all know that-"
"I do not want Eyota."
"You say that because she decided she didn't want you. Because you messed up your chance with her.”
A soft pair of lips cut off her rambling, Neteyam's arm wrapping around her to place his hand on the small of her back to push her closer. His other hands brushing against her cheek. Their bodies pressed against one another like two puzzles pieces fitted together.
It took needing a breath out of their masks to break them apart, her lips parted in shock.
“What does that tell you?”
“Nobody ever sees me-"
They buzzed when he leaned back in and pressed a swift peck on her lips, using his thumb to press down on the middle of her bottom lip.
“Do you get it now?”
“Maybe just one more.”
Neteyam exhaled out a laugh, standing up and picking up Y/N by the waist with no struggle. Except a grunt of pain when she hit his shoulder and warned him of his injury. He sat her down onto the edge on the bed and leaned down again to connect their lips together for a quick second, "Oel ngati kameie, Y/N. Always and only you."
She could feel her cheeks getting hot, getting embarrassed when she knew that her face had to be all purple. Everything was so overwhelming, her mind forcing her to look at other parts of the room. What deemed as impossible of happening was happening.
He brought her back when a thumb softly pushed her chin back down, forcing her to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes so full of love and a plea that hoped that she returned his feeling and it was in that moment that she knew he was being sincere. That what he was saying was true to his heart.
"Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam."
⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆
a/n: omg thank you so much for reading this. i kind of struggled to finish bc idk i dont like how i've been writing cuz repetivity and also writers block. but my love for neteyam pulled thru hehehe. hope you liked it and plzzz give me criticism bc i shall learn from it!
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rageserenity · 14 days
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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http-tokki · 5 months
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~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"
You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)
Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?
 
You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)
You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)
 Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.
You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)
 
Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.
You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)
Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen 
--
 "I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.
You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.
"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."
--
Choso is growing tired. 
At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair. 
It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother. 
"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids. 
Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit. 
"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"
"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive. 
"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo." 
Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment. 
That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take. 
Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.
 "Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions." 
He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure. 
 "Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."
That makes Choso feel a little bad.
"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up. 
Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break. 
"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?" 
Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early? 
"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response. 
"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line." 
That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word. 
"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless. 
"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.  
"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice. 
"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush. 
Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall. 
"Yes?" 
"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap. 
Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.
"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall. 
 The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break. 
Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust. 
The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns. 
Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes. 
He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck. 
There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew. 
"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.
Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.
It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?
"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers. 
Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."
He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.
"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."
There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him. 
"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."
Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.
 "I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance. 
He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.
 --
 When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.
"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"
"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?
"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.
Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.
--
You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?
Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P 
You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!
Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?
You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck
Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.
You: Saturday 12:10pm  Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM
Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do
You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit
Number ONE best friend:  good luck bestie 8======D
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a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 9
skinny dipping - hinata shoyo x reader
word count: 772
kinktober masterlist
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Every day was new and exciting if you were dating Hinata Shoyo.
He was a wildcard. With his flaming orange hair, million dollar smile, and stars in his eyes, he could convince you to do pretty much anything with him, no matter how absurd it was. That included getting into a pool and slowly shedding your bathing suits until you were naked in the water, bodies pressing into each other while they floated in the cold.
You would have never agreed to this in a million years, but Shoyo was a very convincing person. Something about the pool being isolated, access granted to only a select few premium hotel guests, and it being nearly 1 in the morning. There was a single light turned on near the entrance to the pool, while the rest were all turned off. It casted soft shadows over you and Shoyo, and that helped you relax a little and slightly forget about your fear of getting caught.
The second factor to your relaxation was two of Shoyo’s fingers buried knuckle deep in you.
You let out a breathy moan into his mouth, one leg wrapped around his bare torso while the other floated freely. The water would have been completely still if it weren’t for the fingers moving inside you, resulting in little ripples following up Shoyo’s arm and breaking through the surface. The cold water muted some of the sensations, but there was no mistaking how good and warm Shoyo felt against you, and how his fingers were persistently pressing into your spongy core.
“Shoyo, more.” You managed to choke out, clawing at his shoulders. He was single handedly holding you afloat in the water at this point, his fingers leaving your pussy at your request and replacing it with something bigger, harder, and way, way thicker.
You would never get used to him, to the stretch of your protesting walls as he forced himself into you. Shoyo was girthy, and no matter how much you prepped, it still burned when he penetrated you. And you loved it dearly. It knocked the breath out of you everytime, including now, even though the water somehow worked to soothe you, surrounding you like a blanket.
Shoyo pushed you back a little until you made contact with the wall of the pool behind you, both of his hands gripping the pool edge in preparation. He made eye contact with you and smiled so softly that your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed. Even in the cold of the water, the love in Shoyo’s smile made your insides simmer with warmth.
“Hold on to me.” He whispered, as if telling you a secret.
And you did. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck as he began moving in you, as hard and as fast as the water would allow. The shiny surface of it broke around you at Shoyo’s harsh movements, waves rippling away from you and moving down all the way to the other end of the pool. You dropped your head back, resting it on the edge of the pool, the warm cement a stark contrast to the water around you, eyes closing as you focused solely on the pull and drag of Shoyo’s cock, brushing every spot in your walls that drove you insane. Your legs tensed and bent on their own, thighs framing Shoyo’s slim waist and digging into his sides. He hummed and ran a thick stripe over your neck with his tongue, drawing a sigh out of you at the sensation.
Your wet hand dug itself into Shoyo’s even wetter hair, holding on for dear life as you buried your face into his neck, tasting the salt on his skin, a mixture of his sweat and the pool water, biting gently into the muscle until he groaned. Your pussy tightened and squeezed around him as he forced his way into you over and over, your core tightening with every sloppy thrust.
“I’m gonna cum.” He announced, voice sounding shaky and frantic. Your arms tightened around him.
“Me too, baby.” You kissed him, long and hard, moaning into his mouth as your orgasm hit you, slow waves building inside you and coming to a climax, softly luring you to your end, firing up every fiber of your body in a way only Shoyo could. You felt his hips stutter before he finally buried himself deep in you, warmth spilling into you and his cock throbbing frantically inside you as he moaned his way through his own orgasm, before finally stilling.
The gentle lap of the water faded seconds after Shoyo had stopped, leaving you to bask in the quiet of the pool. The only sounds were your little breaths, and the soft smack of your lips against each other, tongues running over each other’s mouths, still tasting each other in the desperate way you often did, not getting enough, never getting enough.
You had never thought possible to be so in love with a man.
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Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel l @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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j-0ne25 · 4 months
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BAD HABIT — CHAPTER [9] of RED LIGHTS [18+!]
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Hyunjin has wanted to actually kiss you, feel his lips pressed against yours, but he’s afraid it’ll emotionally break him. As if possibly sleeping with you wouldn’t.
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← previous part | next part →
💻 Two months ago: An autumn storm outside and a power outage makes Hyunjin and you finally do something about that immense tension between the both of you.
❗️You, Y/N, are part of this year’s season of Red Lights, starring as the main character, surrounded by eight very different men that you have all met before. In order to decide how the story unfolds and what happens in following episodes, select an option for the poll after reading a chapter.
🛷 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], pls refer to masterlist for more info, reality/dating show AU, minors do not interact since it includes topics only suitable for adults, content warning under the cut
📕 WORD COUNT: 3.8K
🎸 SPOTIFY PLAYLIST
🥀 CONTENT WARNING: explicit sexual content [including dom/sub dynamics, tipsy but consensual sex, protected sex, reader gets called baby, good girl, pretty and slut], alcohol consumption, mention of breakup
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsfw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
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“I’m coming,” you grunt, getting up from the couch.
This is probably the third time this week that your roommate forgot half his stuff when leaving the house which results you having to open the door for him once again.
“Jesus Christ, will you ever remember to take your keys with you, Hyun?”
Your friend chuckles, as he enters the shared apartment. Putting off his coat, he follows you to the kitchen. You immediately spot the huge bag he’s carrying, before Hyunjin places it on the dining table. 
“Hello to you, too, loveliest Y/N,” he then winks at you.
You roll your eyes, “You’re so clumsy.”
Hyunjin chuckles, coming a little closer to you and greeting you with a tight hug.
“But you looove me anyway.”
He squeezes your upper body, having you in his hold, while he lifts you up and spins you around. You let out a little squeal, almost as high pitched as the ones that occasionally leave his plump lips, whenever you either scare him just for the fun of it or snap away his iced americano. Speaking of, he’s carrying a plastic cup of his favourite drink in his hand. Not even the low autumn temperatures can hold your roommate back from feeding his caffeine addiction with icy beverages.
“How could I not? Would be pretty boring without you, huh?”
Hyunjin just smiles, ignoring how this half-compliment makes him feel things he shouldn’t about his friend. You’re the sweetest person in his life, really, and this isn’t even the full story. There’s no one else that inspires him the way you do. There’s so many beautiful things about you—not just look wise but also personality wise.
But there are also two factors that have been keeping Hyunjin distant from making a serious move. First, you rejected him before. Sure, this was a few weeks after your terrible break up with your ex boyfriend and even though your roommate is a little more hopeful now that you’d allow him to touch your body one day—he’s noticed you check him out a few times too much—he just knows that your heart isn’t ready.
Second, Hyunjin isn’t sure if he would be ready for anything serious. After all, he’s never done this—the relationship thing. He’s been a busy man these past years, rather letting his emotions out by creating art and making a living from it. Romance has always sounded a lot more comfortable in theory.
“I brought food by the way,” he says then, pointing at the bag. “So, that you would forgive me for making you poor little thing get up from the sofa and open the door for me.”
You decide to ignore his teasing. You shouldn’t feed him with any more reasons to annoy you—although that’s always been fun if Hyunjin tries to be the centre of your attention.
“What did you get?”
Your roommate grabs the items out of the packaging, placing them on the dining table.
“Pizza… and soju, if you’d like,” Hyunjin explains. “As well as some snacks. A cosy movie night would be cool, considering the not so cosy weather outside.”
Soju sounds like a nice idea. Especially, since you don’t have work tomorrow. So, why not treat yourself a little?
“I’m in, sure.”
The food is immaculate as always. Hyunjin bought it at the little pizza restaurant right at the corner in the street next to yours. You’ve been going there for some years now and on days like these—autumn storms making you stay inside—you prefer take out, which is easier to combine with a movie marathon anyway.
While the paper boxes are spread out on the little couch table next to the shot glasses that are filled with alcohol to the brim, Hyunjin is busy skipping through the options on Netflix. You’re scrolling through your phone in the meantime, soon regretting it when you come across a picture of your ex boyfriend on Instagram.
Sure, you’ve unblocked him some time ago but why is the stupid app suggesting his account to you? He looks good, although tired at the same time. Luckily, your roommate is too focused on the screen in front of him to catch what you’re doing. You scroll through your ex’s profile, looking what he’s been up to.
He still seems to be single. Not that you care, of course.
What you notice, though, is the location he’s tagging in his pictures. Seoul. Didn’t he go to Tokyo? Is he back again?
You decide to close the app then, rather giving your full attention to Hyunjin and the food and drinks in front of you. Your roommate has finally managed to make a decision, putting on some new reality TV show on the big screen.
“I’d totally win a game like this,” Hyunjin says out of the blue.
You haven’t been focusing that much on the content that is playing in front of your eyes, still a bit distracted by seeing your ex’s social media.
“What’s the show called again?”
“Too hot to handle,” Hyunjin replies.
Oh, that show. You highly doubt your roommate would survive a day there, considering how often he invites someone over to spend a good time together. Your roommate was the one to hide boxes of condoms in every possible corner of the apartment ‘in case he needs to be fast and can’t change rooms.’
You scoff, “As if. You basically fuck anyone that has a pulse.”
Hyunjin turns his head and looks at you, placing his hand on his chest, mouth falling agape, while he pretends to be offended.
“Are you calling me a whore, Y/N?”
That’s the good thing with Hyunjin. You can make jokes like that because neither of you would actually judge the other for whatever romantic or sexual decision they make.
“No, you’re not taking any money for it. A loss, if you ask me,” you giggle.
He chuckles along, “Anyway. I’m born to be in a spotlight like this. I’d solely go there not to create drama but to be the drama.”
You kinda understand what he is referring to. On top of that, Hyunjin isn’t only incredibly beautiful but probably also the most attractive human being you’ve ever laid your eyes on.
“Yeah, now I get what you mean.”
Time flies by when you’re with your roommate. It’s always like this. You just feel so comfortable around him, as if you can be your true self. At this point, there’s no slice of pizza left, the first bottle of soju is emptied. You’re busy opening the next one, pouring some of the liquid into the small glasses, filling them to the brim, when Hyunjin continues shit talking the candidates of the show.
“Cheers to us!” you say, before the jars collide with one another. The both of you down the alcohol at once, keeping your attention on the screen in front of you.
“We’d definitely win any show like this.”
All you can do is chuckle. “I could. But you, Hyun, wouldn’t last a day participating in ‘Too Hot To Handle’.”
Your roommate scoffs, not focusing anymore on what you said. He would be able to withstand anyone. Especially if there’s a huge prize money waiting for him. Yes, he might be on the easier side but there’s nothing wrong about it. He knows you don’t see an issue with that either. But if he wanted to, he could deny anyone’s advances.
However, when Hyunjin slightly tilts his head towards you and notices how your pyjama shorts have ridden up a little, presenting your thighs and a bit of your ass to him, he gets second guesses about his confidence in this.
Maybe it’s just the soju talking. But he fully knows that’s a lie. Hyunjin has found you attractive since you’ve known each other and he is aware that you think the same about him. The only thing in the way between the both of you are complicated feelings. Your little remaining dumb feelings for your ex. Hyunjin’s not-so-secret dumb feelings for you. Your secret feelings for Hyunjin, if you were honest.
So, perhaps, if the two of you push those hurdles aside—this could work out. Hyunjin takes another look at you, watching you down the next shot of soju, as your lips get wet from the beverage. Fuck. He wants to take you right here, right now. Pound his stupidly big cock into you, have you screaming for more. All whilst not thinking about the consequences.
For a moment he believes this could work. The two of you. Some friends with benefits situation. You’re not fully over Minho and Hyunjin isn’t fully confident yet in showing his true romantic side to the world. After all, he lacks very much experience in that.
Your roommate knows what a good boyfriend your ex was when you were still together. That guy really cared for you, drove to your apartment in the middle of the night just because you couldn’t sleep, took a quick stop at your workplace just to bring you flowers or food, wasn’t afraid to attend all family gatherings despite your huge family being a lot.
Hyunjin could never live up to that.
He never understood why Minho ended things so abruptly and had the audacity to not even explain the reason to you. It’s always been weird, suspicious almost. That’s why Hyunjin had to shush him away that day—when you were in Thailand, a few weeks after the breakup, while Minho showed up at your front door, to beg for forgiveness and tell you about everything.
But Hyunjin and Chan didn’t go through endless nights of you crying yourself to sleep, saying you never want to see your ex again, for your roommate to give in when none other than that decided to show up here. After all, you asked your friend exactly that—if Minho is back, there will be no second chance.
You have regretted this sometimes. However, Hyunjin has never told you that Minho was indeed here. That he did an one hundred eighty degree turn. That he never went to Japan in the first place. But once you were back from Kho Phangan, finally smiling again after what felt like ages, Hyunjin didn’t want to destroy that.
God. He’s such a coward.
And you don’t even notice the debate that is going on inside his head. You’re too focused on the dumb show in front of your eyes and the storms outside that have gotten rougher. Your roommate stands up then, walking towards the balcony doors, taking a look at the weather outside.
“It’s gotten intense… all the windows are closed, right?”
You nod. Just when Hyunjin is about to walk back to the couch, snuggle under the blanket with you, an unexpected sound fills the room—the next thing that happens is all the lights dying, while the screen of the TV shuts off. The sudden noise sobers you up again.
“Shit,” you let out, when your roommate uses his phone to find the way to the hallway—the power box indicates nothing bad, it must be the disastrous weather outside that caused the power outage.
“Hmm… what do we do now?” he says when he walks back to the living room. Hyunjin watches you searching for candles, the ones that you store under the couch table, but your hands graze over yet another box of condoms instead. You roll your eyes, finally finding what you’ve been looking for a second later.
The candles don’t do that much to the brightness here but instead shroud the room in a… quite romantic atmosphere instead. You try to ignore the pounding noises of your heart inside your chest, especially when you see Hyunjin’s figure in the dim light of your apartment.
He looks ethereal. The way he just stands there, observing you.
“Done,” you let out with a small voice, as you wait for him to come back to the sofa.
“I can’t see shit, Y/N. This doesn’t do anything when it’s pitch black dark outsitde.”
You scoff, “Don’t fucking complain. That’s all we have for now.”
Hyunjin comes closer, approaching the couch from the side you are sitting on this time since it’s closer to where he is.
But of course, just like it happens in every cliché K-Drama you’ve ever watched, Hyunjin trips over some pillow that fell down on the floor earlier, before he stumbles and falls right on top of you. He almost smashes his head into your face in the process, trying to balance himself a little later.
“God, how can you be so clumsy?” you ask, while he’s still on top of you.
A smirk appears on his face, “You can call me Hyunjin, that’s just fine.”
You scoff and roll your eyes. But you can’t be mad. Not when he’s towering over you like that, caging you between his body and the sofa, looking down on you.
Fuck. This is like straight out of a movie. And neither of you moves a centimetre, instead waiting for the other one to do something. You feel paralysed—in a good way, as if Hyunjin’s gaze is pinning you further into the soft cushion underneath your back, as if he’s hypnotising you with his beauty.
You should tell him to get up. You know that. However, that’s not what you want. You want him to read your mind and do what you’re waiting for—breaking the silence, getting even closer to you, touching you, making you feel good.
Whereas Hyunjin can’t hold back anymore. And he sure doesn’t want to hold back either.
“Are you drunk, Y/N?” he asks with a low voice.
You shake your head, looking at his plump lips. “Just tipsy. I’ve wanted this before and I’ll want it tomorrow, too.”
Fuck. Hyunjin can’t believe what his ears have just witnessed. You want him. You’ve wanted him before. This is like a dream come true.
“Mind if I do this?”
He’s faster than you’re able to react, when his mouth collides with your neck. Hyunjin has wanted to actually kiss you, feel his lips pressed against yours, but he’s afraid it’ll emotionally break him. As if possibly sleeping with you wouldn’t. Still, he holds onto that idea to keep himself somewhat sane but this doesn’t work for too long.
Not when you’re already letting out a cute little moan, once he kisses the right spot on your skin.
“Fuck– feels good, Hyun,” you giggle, allowing the sensation of his plump lips running all over you to take over your whole body.
He’s making his way further south, unapologetically pulling down the loose shirt that you’re wearing, exposing your breasts to him. Your roommate has always noticed that you don’t care about wearing a bra at home but he’s never expected to see you without a shirt covering your pretty tits either.
That’s why he dives right in, one being massaged by his hand, while his tongue circles around the hardening bud of the other. As if you’re on autopilot, your fingers reach for his hair, getting entangled in the long strands, guiding him how you like.
“Shit– Y/N– tell me to stop,” he lets out, letting go of you and looking at you instead.
“N-No–“
His eyes darken then. “You’re fucking needy, hm?”
You hastily nod, not an ounce of shame in your system.
A minute later, you find yourself spreading your legs for him. Hyunjin has gotten fully rid off your shirt and the pyjama shorts. It wasn’t a surprise that you weren’t wearing any underwear either, however he didn’t expect you to soak through the thin fabric that easily. 
Fuck. He thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous. Hyunjin has never thought about someone while having sex with them like this. Usually, it’s just about pleasure and how hot or handsome someone looks but with you it’s different—the duality you have is insane.
He has your thighs thrown over his shoulder, currently making out with your throbbing clit, while two of his fingers are circling around your entrance. Hyunjin chuckles, whenever another moan spills from your lips and this time he takes that as a sign to finally slip one of the digits in.
His fingers are long. They can reach much more than your own can and your roommate immediately feels you clenching, sucking him in. He starts thrusting it into you, before you’re ready and he adds a second one. Hyunjin makes sure to scissor you open. After all, you will dearly need it in order to take him.
“Shit, why are you so good at this, Hyun?” you ask, your head falling back in pleasure.
“Hm, you’ve been missing out on this for years, pretty.”
Fuck. You’d pay attention to how the nickname makes your heart skip a beat, if your thoughts weren’t all over the place or basically almost gone.
“Totally should have agreed to fucking you so so– fuck, s-sooner,” you manage to let out.
“Well, you came to your senses now,” Hyunjin says, right before curling his fingers, hitting that certain spot just right.
You’ve always expected him to be more on the rougher, kinkier side, at least from the stories of escapades he’s shared with you and your other friends. And he is. But to a good amount—especially combined with his low voice, whenever he praises you for being such a good girl for him.
It doesn’t take him long to bring you to your first climax of the night, when Hyunjin watches you, as you cum all over his fingers and tongue. God. This is insane. He is insane in the best way possible. You should have really done this so much sooner.
Once you’ve calmed down again, Hyunjin helps you up, bringing you into a seating position. When he’s balancing himself on his knees, you’re pretty much on eye level with his crotch now—Hyunjin’s hand is palming his covered erection, while he looks right at you, cocking his head.
“Do you think you can take me, hm?”
You hastily nod. Hyunjin slips his sweatpants down, revealing his hardened dick to you. You can’t help but gasp when you take a look at his size—he’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, that you are sure of.
“You okay, baby?”
Baby.
“Y-Yeah, I am.”
He nods, “Okay. Open your mouth, pretty.”
You do as you’re told, before Hyunjin taps your tongue with the tip of his cock, placing it right there. He doesn’t have to tell you what to do—you start by slowly licking a stripe along his shaft, making sure to keep eye contact with him.
God. Hyunjin might be an artist but he’s never witnessed such beauty and perfection like this moment. 
You take as much as you can into your mouth then, using your hand for whatever doesn’t fit. Hyunjin observes you bob your head up and down, desperately trying to not completely lose his mind when you look at him like this—absolutely ethereal, while your mouth is full of his cock.
He slowly starts thrusting his hips towards you then, two hands guiding your head just how he enjoys it most. You soon learn that Hyunjin is pretty vocal—whimper after whimper leaving his lips but you’re the last one to complain.
“Yeah– that’s right, just, fuck, just t-take it,” he says between grunts. “Just like that, pretty.”
But despite the utmost pleasure Hyunjin is very much aware that if you don’t stop soon, he will probably blow and he’d rather much make you cum first again—this time around his cock, preferably.
So, he pulls out, before his hand reaches under the couch table, coming back with what looks like a wrapper in the dim candle lights of the living room. You only now realise how ironic the scene is—the absolute romantic atmosphere and neither of you has the guts to tell the other one what they really feel.
Hyunjin opens the package with his teeth, before he slides the condom down his length. He decides to hover you into his lap then, placing you on top of him. Straddling him now, you take his dick back in your hand, slowly stroking him.
“Hyun?”
“Yeah baby?”
God. You'll fall in love with him if he doesn’t stop using that name.
“It’s… it’s been some time since I…”
It really has been some time. February, to be precise. On top of that, you’ve never had someone as huge as him. There is someone that you share an intimate memory with who came almost close to his size but he wasn’t stretching your pussy like Hyunjin is about to do.
“We’ll take our time, yeah? If you wanna stop or slow down at any time, tell me, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, as you position your entrance right above his cock. You slowly sink down, trying to take in the first few centimetres. You’re struggling a little, even though it’s just the tip, but Hyunjin guides you through it. He tells you to keep breathing, while he lowers you onto his length.
It takes some time to get used to the feeling, but once you’re ready and start going up and down on him, the sensation fully takes over you. Hyunjin watches your tits bouncing for him, as his hands are busy grabbing your ass. He enjoys that view—how pretty you look working yourself on his cock, pleasuring the both of you, as he just leans back.
“Oh, God–“
You fall a little forward, your face landing in the crook of his neck.
“‘S good?”
His cock is now kissing your cervix, as your eyes dwell up with tears and he has the audacity to ask if it’s good.
“Fucking amazing, Hyun–“
He chuckles, “Knew it. Fucking knew it, you’d like me stuffing you full with my big cock, hm?”
“Hmm, feels p-perfect, baby.”
Hyunjin feels heat rush up to his beautiful face, tinting his cheeks in a red shade and he’s glad that you can’t see it thanks to the position you’re in.
He soon senses you getting closer, knowing he won’t be able to hold back any longer, either.
 “Always knew you’d be a good girl,” Hyunjin says in between thrusting into you from underneath, when your movements get sloppier. “Or a desperate slut for my cock, whatever you wanna call yourself, hm?”
Pathetically enough, this is what drives you over the edge, when Hyunjin feels you clench around his length. His praises guide you through the feeling of ecstasy washing over your body, before Hyunjin reaches his orgasm too, filling the condom with his juices.
You slow down a little, realising he’s looking at you, as if he’s about to say something. He wishes he could. But Hyunjin isn’t ready yet and he fears it’s the same with you.
So, during aftercare, when he cleans and takes care of you, he comes to the conclusion that this might not be meant to be more than just a friends with benefits situation. And after a talk, this is what you agree on, too, without any hesitation.
Although your heart did hesitate.
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Results of poll 8 from COOKIE [previous chapter]:
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[Choosing Rapunzel led to you getting Hyun's backstory because of this story I wrote last year hehe]
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❤️‍🔥 AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank youuu for reading and the endless support hihi I hope you will soon meet the other candiDATES too! i love you and thx for being here :))
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
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hiranospiercing · 1 year
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shounen ai mangas that should be a part of your reading list if you enjoy reading healthy and plot-driven romances- part 2.
this is a continuation to the first part of this list i made earlier this month, part 1
6. Until i meet my husband.
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the reason why i want this manga to be a part of your reading list is simply because it changed my perspective on gay relationships as a person, there were so many things that i was never able to inculcate myself or things that where actually alienated to me, this manga is actually inspired by a memoir written by ryousuke nanazaki, who happens to be an activist and the manga revolves around his life growing up as somebody who identifies as a gay man and his life till he finally met his husband, i encourage you to give this manga a read and try to understand how gay relationships actually are and not the female gaze that always markets in the shounen ai industry.
7) Koimonogatari.
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koimonogatari is alot more than a shounen ai manga, it's about self acceptance, friendship and internalized homophobia, there were multiple instances in the story where i had to sit back and cry and actually introspect for a minute by putting myself in the main character's shoes, if you actually want to experience an actual expression of accepting your identity, please give this manga a read.
8. Restart after come back home.
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this story often makes me think about how home is actually a person, i honestly get so overwhelmed with the comfort this manga brings while reading it out, whether it is the art style or honestly the way the characters are written or perhaps it's the grumpy sunshine protector x sunshine trope all over again, please read this out to experience how a story can feel like a literal hug.
9. The two lions.
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i have and always will love furuya sensei's work, whether it's the iconic the summer of you series or the two lions in itself, the way she developes her characters and the progression of the stories, it is impeccable, the two lions is such a refreshing read that you would not even realize when you developed such a strong connection towards both the characters.
10. Happy Birthday.
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i hold a special bias toward author ymz's works perhaps because i have been heavily inspired by most of her works and learned a lot of things about my own writing style, whether it's sayonara heron or happy birthday, the way she writes her characters and the melancholy, everything is so heart warming and wrenching at the same time, happy birthday again is a lot more about friendship with differentiating factors and points where they intersect together in an utterly chaotic yet in an articulate way, the art style has my heart and you should probably experience this story once.
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harmshake · 1 month
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didn't mean to unfollow, just followed back, im stupid lmao.
I was thinking, maybe your Romans ex wife (black reader) and you two aren't exactly on good terms, but you have to pretend for the kids (two boys, 6 and 9) and while your waiting for the boys to get ready, he notices the reader still has her wedding ring on- Can either be smut or fluff, up to you!
Hey, STOP that, you are not stupid. I'M stupid cuz I wrote this and missed the "ex" in "ex-wife," but I hope you still enjoy, my friend. 🥹💗
Because I Love You
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Roman Reigns x Fem Black Reader | Angst and fluff | ~2k words
Happy reading! Read my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨
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If stress had a name, you were pretty sure it would be spelled exactly like yours.
If it wasn't early mornings when your beautiful but rowdy sons were up before the sun and jumping on your bed to wake you up after having only a few hours of productive sleep, it was dragging yourself out of bed to start the day, get your kiddos to school and yourself to work where you sat behind a desk, locked away from sunlight until you were back in your car and home again.
With him.
He was the real catalyst, the true stress factor as your job paid you well and your young sons could be a handful but you'd do anything for them.
And that's why you were still with him.
Being married wasn't the glamorous life you thought it'd be when you were a little girl, watching romance movies where the two protagonists fell head over heels for each other on a whim; couldn't go a day without saying how much they loved one another; and got married with a stunning, white wedding that made your eyes twinkle in awe.
The wife adorned in an elegant dress and a shining ring on her finger. Her loving husband dressed to the nines with a smile on his lips that would only be for her. A lifetime together of living, laughing, and loving.
And for three years, your marriage to Roman was something like that moving picture. He made you feel beautiful. He couldn't get enough of fondling and kissing your brown skin that was soft like cocoa butter and the rich complexion of chocolate. He made you feel special. He'd run his fingers through your deep brown coils as he held you close and told you that you were the only woman in the world to him. He made you feel loved. He wanted to give you a house, a family, the stars, and the moon.
Yet something changed. Roman started going out more, coming back home later. He started traveling for work often, leaving you home alone with the kids for weeks on end. You understood it from the beginning as it was his busy career and it put food on the table. But something changed.
You didn't find out what until several text messages, emails, and arguments later that while Roman loved you, he loved himself more. It wasn't exactly "cheating" as from what you read and what he told you, it was nothing more than conversations. 
However, one conversation with a woman that wasn't you and wasn't about anything that felt appropriate to discuss with a married man was one too many for you.
For the last few months, the conversations between you two had dwindled to a bare minimum. The basics. As long as the bills were paid and the boys were happy, you went to sleep at night in the bed you shared with him. Yet you felt like you were lying next to a stranger.
Roman had to talk you out of leaving the home you both built together. Then he had to talk you out of sleeping in separate beds. And you agreed to both because while you loved him, you loved your children more. You knew what it was like to grow up in a one-parent home, watching your mother struggle to make ends meet all alone while trying to hold you, herself, and everything together. You refused to pass that burden down to your boys. No matter what went wrong for you, you were determined to always make it right for them.
Yet the one thing Roman couldn't convince you to do was keep on the wedding ring. For those last few months, you kept it tucked away in your jewelry box on the dresser. While he still wore his, in your mind, you were no longer truly married to him, but to the situation. You were devoted to your family and committed to creating the most picturesque life you could for them.
Where that left you in the picture, you weren't quite sure. But as those three months passed, you kept the idea of love for your sons to be all the love you needed for yourself.
Until he came home this weekend from work.
"Let's take the boys to the water park today," Roman said softly, as softly as his deep voice could manage as his guilt still weighed down his tone. 
Your tone was just as soft as you agreed with a simple, "Alright," and let the day commence. He noticed for the hundredth time that your wedding ring was missing from your finger. You told him you didn't want to lose it in the pool but he knew the real reason. He knew he was the reason.
Later that night as you lay in bed after tucking in the boys, he came into the bedroom from the bathroom, the steam flooding the room as he approached you with a towel still around his waist and a pathetic look on his face. You felt the lecture coming, another spiel about how much he appreciated and loved you and wished you'd let him back in. You didn't want to waste your breath because you'd tell him your same spiel, too: That you know and you love him, too, but you're not in love with him anymore, and for him to just drop it.
"You work Monday?" Roman asked as he changed into his pajamas, an old pair of gym shorts, and nothing else. You shook your head. It was a holiday. "The boys will be in school and I'm not back on the road until Tuesday. We should go out...if you want."
His voice had that soft, hesitant tone yet again. You looked up at him with curious, tired brown eyes as you were just trying to read your romance novel before bed. Yet he'd piqued your interest enough to lift your eyes from the page to meet his and ask, "Why?"
You and Roman hadn't been out together without the kids in so long that you weren't sure what that would look like anymore. Dinner and a movie? A drink or two at a lounge and dancing? You didn't know if you could even have fun in those kinds of settings with him.
"Because I love you, baby."
You sighed and murmured you'd think about it before you went back to your book. But your heartbeat wouldn't calm down from its slight fluttering as he crawled under the sheets behind you to head to bed, his warmth filling the sheets without his touch because, as usual, you wouldn't allow it. 
Yet your heart pounded at the idea of a date with your estranged husband. 
Because he loved you.
You loved him, too, even if it wasn't in that live, laugh, love way anymore.
But you did love him.
When Monday morning came, you woke up early, getting your boys' school uniforms ironed and lunches packed into bags. Roman was up, as well, cooking them breakfast and reminding them that Dad would be back home later in the week. You could never say he was an unattentive parent as the love he had for your boys was bigger and brighter than the sun. 
Your heartbeat hadn't calmed at the thought that he loved you in the same way. It wasn't something you wanted to give much thought to after he did what he did because how could he love you the same when you would have never done that to him? 
His voice...his quiet, almost scared to bother you with his emotions singing softly in his heart tone still echoed in your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to think it away. "Because I love you, baby."
After dropping off the kids at school, you got ready for brunch with your husband and attempted to will away his tone lingering in your mind as you stood in front of the mirror reflecting your thoughts on your face that held an odd look. Not a frown, not a smile, but something in between, something like where your feelings for your husband lay.
"You look beautiful."
His voice floated into your ears, made your cheeks feel warm, made that strange expression on your face soften after you saw his reflection walk into the room, sit on the bed, and admire you as you put on your earrings, fastened on your necklace, and eyed your wedding ring buried beneath a pile of bracelets.
"Thank you. You, too," you mumbled with a flash of your eyes on him before they fell to the ring again. Roman did look beautiful. He always did. Even in his simple, short-sleeved button-up and slacks. He matched your casual look, a halter-top sundress, even sporting the same powder blue for his shirt.
Suddenly, his huge hands matched the length of your jewelry box as he stood beside you and pulled it towards him, carefully sorting through it until he picked out a gold, diamond tennis bracelet. Your heart fluttered again when his fingers grazed your wedding ring.
"May I?" Roman asked, in that soft, pleading way that made you look up at him with soft, intrigued eyes and nod once as he held your bracelet before you extended your wrist. His big fingers struggled a bit with the tiny clasp yet once he hooked it, those fingers tentatively slid around your wrist, as well, as he spoke. "Looks nice with your necklace...not that you need any more help bein' the most gorgeous woman in the room."
A small, coy laugh escaped you as you thanked him again. The way he coyly studied you with a timid smile wobbling to life on his lips reminded you of your first date all those years ago. Two young, flirty twentysomethings who would blush if they held each other's gaze for too long.
Yet you fell in love so deeply that after a while you couldn't imagine not gazing into his eyes every day. And when he betrayed your trust, he couldn't go a day without trying to make it up to you and restore that twinkle in your eyes.
Because he loved you.
"Maybe this would look nice with it, too," you said under your breath as you took your wedding ring and slid it onto your left ring finger. Roman's eyes filled with that twinkle you recognized as it was the same one steadily growing in yours when your heart raced behind your chest.
"It does. Goes well with mine." His gentle tone again. His fingers gentle, too, when they laced with yours and showed his wedding band the same luminous gold as yours. You weren't certain why your heartbeat wouldn't rest until this moment...until his warm touch soothed it back to a gentle pace.
Months without that touch. Months without that warmth. Months without that belief that there was still something lively, whimsical, and passionate between you.
Yet as Roman held your hand and slowly brought it to his lips with a tender kiss that sent tingles up your arms, you took a step closer to him until your head rested on his chest. You felt him stiffen with surprise, felt his heartbeat jump to that fluttering pace as he delicately placed his arms around you.
Time seemed to stand still, all the times you doubted him, yourself, your marriage, his love, your love, and everything that tied you two together without the security of love...
...But how Roman wouldn't let go of you and how you didn't bother to move made that stress melt off you and shielded you in a truth you were finally ready to accept.
You stayed with him because you loved him. Because you were still in love with him.
"You ready to go, baby?" Roman asked in a hushed tone, his warm breath caressing your coils before his chin did as he nuzzled the top of your head with a hum.
"Not yet...I love you." You matched his tone, even more hushed with your face buried in his chest that he had to uncover with his fingers cupping your chin. Roman's eyes bore into yours like he was searching for the mistake you made to have uttered those words to him unprompted. Words you no longer wanted to withhold from him as you brought your lips to his in a kiss that made you both tremble in each other's arms.
"I love you, too, baby. And I'll do anything you want to hear you say it again."
.
.
.
Thanks for reading! ❤️
🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @theglamclosetsl @2-muchsauce @empressdede @woahdude9481 @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @alichesmi @eclectic-tee @brwnsugababe @joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @carmenreigns
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lovemyavatar · 1 year
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Temptation
| Neteyam x F!Avatar!Reader |
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Summary: new arrivals bring new temptations, and frustrations (see full series summary at the end of Star Girl chapter 9)
Warnings: mild angst and broody Neteyam
dialogue in Italics is Na'vi translated to English
chapter two
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Chapter One
A tentative smile pulls at your lips as your head swivels from side to side, eyes dancing over the enormity of Home Tree.
You're utterly awe-struck, having never seen anything remotely this big in your life. Your gaze is greedy as it flickers over every bush, flower, blade of grass. It's all foreign to you, each sight an entirely new marvel to your inexperienced eyes.
Excitement tightens your chest, a tinge of nervousness curling in your stomach. You walk in line with a small group, led by none other than the Omatikayan Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully. You're a bit embarrassed to admit that you'd never heard of the guy until a few days ago. Apparently he’s somewhat of a legend.
It just wasn't on your radar, learning about the nearby clans. Truthfully, you always had better things to do than sit around and read about people you'd never meet. That's how you felt, anyway, before this opportunity appeared at your doorstep.
When Jake showed up, asking for volunteers to aid in the upcoming confrontation with hostile humans, you didn't hesitate to raise a hand. Though you've never allowed yourself to indulge in dreams too unrealistic, a piece of your soul has always found the confines of the lab complex stifling.
The last twenty years of your life have been spent within bleak, grey walls, surrounded by a conglomeration of random people trapped on the moon after Pandora's first war with humans. It's not that you resent your upbringing, since you don't know anything different, but lately you’ve yearned for something more.
As much as you're hardwired to follow orders, the whisper of restlessness recently began keeping you awake at night. It constantly pokes at the back of your mind, thoughts wandering to the wonders that lie just outside the lab property.
And now...you're seeing it with your own eyes.
Your Avatar—the body you inhabit now—has only been ready for five years. Since then, you've spent nearly every waking moment inside your link unit. At this point, you feel closer to the true version of yourself when you're like this, rather than in your human form.
Some of your peers spent their formative years studying the vast lands and ecosystems of Pandora. Others researched the people who inhabit it. But you, you've been focused on the more physical aspects of living on the moon.
The scientists like testing their creations, gathering endless information on agility, balance, strength, anything to make sure the Avatar's they've slaved over are the best they can be. That's where you come in. You've had little else to do for the majority of your life than keep your body is top physical shape.
Your days have been spent mastering the obstacle courses they provide, all while being monitored for a swath of factors. You found it enjoyable, at first, but the tasks quickly got old as you excelled at each new challenge. You've been craving something more, a new endeavor that will actually stretch your limits.
“It’s gonna be hard to get used to this.” Another lab-rat—as you and all the other orphans who grew up in the complex are lovingly referred to—whispers from behind.
You spare a quick glance over your shoulder, eyes catching on the way he picks at the ties of his loincloth. Fingers move to cover your mouth, stifling a laugh as you approach the main gathering area of Home Tree.
All humor is gone, a rough wave of anxiety sending a shiver down your spine when a sea of eyes dissect every inch of your skin. It seems that the entire clan is present, hundreds of Na'vi circling the large open area. They've left a tiny space for Jake, which he guides your small group through.
You force down a thick swallow, shoulders shifting to avoid running into any of them. They're so close, it's like they don't have a care in the world about personal space. Jake doesn't stop until he reaches a large, flat rock, which he easily steps onto.
He turns to face his people, looking every bit the larger than life Toruk Makto you've recently heard about. The few of you settle into stillness at his side, fidgeting with uncertainty. At once, he's speaking quickly, a jumbled mix of sounds you couldn't even begin to understand.
He gestures toward your small group, causing shocked murmurs to erupt within the crowd. Your expression tightens with unease, weight shifting between your feet while Jake works to calm them. As he continues speaking a language none of you understand, your eyes wander over the sea of faces staring back at you.
There seems to be a clear differentiation between the clan and what you can only assume is Jake's family. They stand in the middle of the circle only a few feet away. You vaguely recognize most of them from a picture Norm showed you only days ago.
There's a woman, flanked by two girls. One looks close to your age, while the other can't be more than nine or ten years old. Her arm is draped over the younger Na'vi's shoulders, holding her firmly against her hip.
Beside them, a pair of Na'vi—also appearing around twenty or so—are huddled closely together. They're distracted, in their own world as the boy murmurs something into the girl's ear, her quiet giggle echoing through the circle before she slaps his chest playfully.
Breath lodges in your throat when your eyes land on the final member of the Sully family, only to see that his gaze is already locked on you.
Instantly, his eyes shift to the dirt, chin dipping to avoid your attention. Just that one brief moment, a single second of his eyes on you, is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You can't help but study him, gaze sweeping down his toned form. Warmth coils in your lower belly, eyes catching on each dip of hardened muscle. A tremor rolls down your spine when his eyes catch yours again, harshly flicking up from their downturned position.
Neteyam is seething, jaw clenched tightly as he listens to his father address the clan. Frustration tightens his chest, not at the new arrivals necessarily, but what it means for him.
Over the last several weeks, he's adjusted to the presence of one Avatar in the village. One he can deal with. He's gotten used to Lo'ak's mate. Warmed up to her, even.
It took many months, and a near-death experience for his baby sister Tuk, for his open distaste to morph into reluctant friendship. Now, he's readily accepted her into the family after the ceremony confirming her status as Omatikaya.
But a whole group of them? He's never questioned his father before, but there's just no way this plan is going to work. It's too risky, and time consuming, and he doesn't think they're that desperate yet. Clearly, though, his wishes hold no weight around here. A fact that has his fists tightening in agitation.
For some unknown reason, his eyes keep flicking back to one Avatar in particular. He can't help it, as hard as he tries to look elsewhere, his gaze is locked on the girl. There's something about her, something in the way she stares right back, undeterred by his hard glare, that makes his heart race.
He's jerked back to reality at the sound of Jake addressing Lo'ak's mate.
“You wanna help them get settled in?” He speaks in English for the first time, ensuring the new arrivals can understand.
She nods eagerly , practically skipping toward them after landing a soft kiss on Lo'ak's cheek and detaching herself from him. They quickly follow her up the staircase inside the massive trunk of Home Tree.
Neteyam watches the entire time, gaze lingering on your back until you disappear within the structure.
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“So, you’re the one Norm hasn’t shut up about?” One of the girls wastes no time in asking what they're all dying to know.
Lo'ak's mate instantly blushes, glancing away from the few curious stares. It's true that their boss has spent almost all of his free time raving about the girl who'd been chosen by Ewya, but it's clear she's embarrassed by the attention. She turns her back to all of you without responding, continuing her path to the upper levels of the tree.
Your elbow jams into the girl's side, eyes widening in warning when she winces and casts you a glare.
“So, this is where you'll sleep.” Lo'ak's mate stops suddenly, facing you again as she gestures toward the woven hammocks that swing idly between thick branches.
Your brows raise in intrigue, surprised by the unusual arrangement. A few displeased murmurs erupt behind you.
“It can be a little tricky to get into the first—oh, okay.” Her gentle assurance is cut short when you leap from the branch, easily landing in a crouched position inside the structure.
It sways beneath you, but you're quick latch onto the edges, stabilizing yourself in seconds. You settle into a seated position, grinning triumphantly up at the rest of the group. Your fellow Avatars simply roll their eyes, used to your antics, but your guide can't help the way her eyes widen in shock.
“Wow, I'm impressed. The first time I did that I nearly killed myself.” She laughs lightly, watching as you make yourself comfortable.
“You're mated to the Olo'eyktan's son, right?” Another girl asks, bouncing on her toes with excitement.
She's one of the few who's dedicated most of her life to studying The People of Pandora. Her awe-struck expression is to be expected, the Sully family is the closest thing to celebrity on the moon. Even so, it irritates you.
You're not here to make friends, or grill people about their relationships. You're here to work hard, and hopefully avoid becoming a liability in the coming conflict.
Sharp teeth bite into your tongue, forcing yourself to remain silent as she fawns over the poor girl. To your surprise, she beams at the question, a prideful grin splitting her face. She nods in confirmation, and the girl practically squeals on the spot.
“How the hell did that happen?” The one man in your midst speaks up, his harsh tone making her curl inward slightly.
“It's a...long story.” She chuckles, head shaking as if its too much to get into now.
Truthfully, you know nothing about the clan or their customs. You've heard of this girl in passing, mostly from Norm, and have caught bits of conversations regarding her. From the little information you've gathered, it seems that they were less than welcoming to outsiders until recently.
As the group falls into easy conversation, asking Lo'ak's mate endless questions, your eyes trail over your new home for the foreseeable future. Or, your Avatar's home, that is. As your gaze dances along the vibrant greens and browns of Home Tree, you find yourself imagining a life here.
A life of freedom and exploration, a life where you can be more than a vessel for experimentation.
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The first week goes by without consequence, aside from Neteyam's quickly mounting irritation.
There’s nothing wrong, exactly, and that’s the problem. He's bored to tears. There are countless places he’d rather be than training a group of Avatars. He wants a front row seat for the action and planning. He wants to be involved in things that actually matter.
He’s tried protesting, tried insisting that his skills would be better spent elsewhere. But his father will hear none of it. No matter how good the argument, there’s no changing Jake Sully’s mind once it’s made up.
The only thing keeping his days interesting is you.
He’s burdened with your presence, finding you excruciatingly charming and vexing all at once. You're always nearby, challenging him, talking to him when he's trying to do the bare minimum.
He doesn’t understand why you can’t just fall in line with the others. Why you must be so outspoken, so flashy in the way you easily master the skills he’s teaching you.
He can’t explain it. Can’t put words to the heat that constricts his chest every time you successfully learn a new skill. It makes something dark swell in his belly, the sight of you so casually falling into place with seasoned warriors both alarming and alluring.
Since childhood, he’s been leaps and bounds above his peers. It’s all he’s ever known, being hailed as the most skilled young man within the clan. He’s accustomed to being the best, to the wide birth between himself and anyone who dared challenge him.
It bothers to him to no end when you don’t crumble under his harsh instruction. When you match his irritability with attitude of your own. He doesn't know how to respond to such unabashed disrespect, used to the way the clan treats him with grace at all times.
He stalks through the trees, leading your group through dense flora. His pace is rushed, paying no mind to whether or not everyone is able to keep up. The more of you get lost, the better, as far as he’s concerned. That just means there will be less of you to annoy him.
His shoulders tense, ears twitching at the sound of quickly approaching footsteps.
“So, you’re going to be the next Olo’eyktan, huh? That must be really hard. I mean, I can’t imagine the—” Your voice is light, friendly as you settle into the space at his side.
“What are you doing right now?” His eyes cut to you, narrowed in warning. His tail swishes in irritation, hard gaze flicking over your form quickly.
“Starting a conversation?” You blink up at him innocently, watching as his nostrils flare, jaw clenching impossibly tighter.
“Don't.” The single word is a rough order before he lengthens his strides, easily putting several feet between you.
You can't help the giggle that bubbles in your chest, though your grin slips when you're faced with his retreating back.
“Oh, you're serious?” His muscles coil at the sound of your voice, the only visible reaction he gives you.
A soft breath falls from your lips, eyes rolling toward the sky as you trail after him. The others are so far behind you can't see them anymore, but he doesn't seem concerned, so you press on.
This is how it's been for the last several days. You, reaching out, trying to form a friendship with the man who's been tasked with training you. And him, doing everything he can to keep you at arms length.
Each harsh word or heated glare only ignites the flame of determination in your chest, pushing you to find the thing that will finally shatter his tough exterior. Because, despite the cold demeanor he tries so hard to maintain, you see through the cracks.
You catch the way his eyes linger on you. Feel when his touch softens just a fraction as he adjusts your form. You can't help but notice the flicker of his heated gaze when he tears it away, thinking he's sly as he trails your every move from across the clearing during meals.
There's no denying the warmth that settles over you at the mere thought of him. The moment you saw him, it was clear that you want him. You wouldn't be shy about it, save for the little problem of his less than approachable personality. Now that you've spent several days with him, you want more.
You want to test him, to prod at his carefully constructed perfection until the real Neteyam is laid bare before you.
“You know, if you don't want to be here, I'm sure we could convince your dad to choose someone else.” The offer is casual as you leap over a few overturned logs, quickly closing in on his back.
“What?” He stops abruptly, whipping around to face you, brow furrowed with displeasure.
You lurch back, nearly ramming into his tense frame. Your hands raise in surrender, a light chuckle rumbling your chest.
“I’ve heard your clan has many great warriors. I'm sure one of them would be happy to help us.” You shrug, arms crossing lazily.
Neteyam's stomach tightens with anger, narrowed eyes falling to your chest. For some reason, the fact that you aren't the least bit winded by this journey is immensely irritating. His lips purse, searing gaze burning a path right between your legs.
He's fuming at the mere insinuation that someone else would do this better, would be a more apt teacher. If there's one thing about Neteyam that never wavers, it's his confidence in his own abilities. The challenge ignites his competitive streak, makes walking away now impossible.
“Just try to keep up.”
With that, he's stomping his way through the forest again, too riled up to care about how noisy he's being. Your lips twist into a satisfied smirk as you instantly fall in line at his side, steps a bit lighter due to your small victory.
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You’ve managed to claw your way under his skin.
Every day, his mind races, trying to come up with ways to regain the upper hand. No matter the topic of the training sessions, you’re always right at his side, mastering the skill with ease. It evokes an unfamiliar sensation, makes him feel both impressed and agitated that, if things stay like this, there may one day be someone else as skilled as him.
He’s tried keeping his distance. Snapping at you, ignoring your friendly advances, avoiding you at all cost when training is over. He was doing well, too, until one particular night sealed his fate.
Neteyam tosses from side to side, a frustrated huff falling from his lips as sleep evades him. He flips onto his back, palms covering his ears, eyes screwing shut as he desperately tries drowning out the noises plaguing him.
Finally, something within him snaps, an he can't take it for a second longer. He turns over roughly, propping himself up onto one elbow so he can glare darkly at the bed beside his.
“Will you two shut the hell up already?” He hisses into the dimly lit tent, adjusted eyes easily catching the way Lo'ak's head pokes up from behind his mate's shoulder.
His brother has the nerve to look offended, lips pulling into a frown despite the fact that his lovesick mumbling has been burning Neteyam's eardrums for what must be hours now.
“Bro, chill out.” He whispers, pulling his mate closer when she buries her head into his chest in embarrassment. She didn't think they were being that loud.
Neteyam growls, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he runs a tired hand over his face. “I swear to Eywa if I hear one more—”
“Neteyam!” Neytiri suddenly hisses his name harshly, voice rough with sleep as she sits up in her own bed a few feet away. “Lower your voice before you wake the whole family.”
His eyes pop wide with shock, mouth falling open in exasperation. “Mother! I am not the one—”
She clicks her tongue harshly, silencing him instantly. His teeth grind, gaze flicking back to Lo'ak just in time to catch his triumphant smirk before he settles into his mate's embrace again. Neteyam growls angrily, ripping his blankets off before storming from the tent.
That's what brought him here, put him in the position he finds himself now. He's sitting at the tree line, throwing pebbles into the dense cover of foliage, ears twitching each time they clink against the dirt.
He hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in weeks. Not with the new addition in their small home. There's nothing he can do but wait until his brother's marital tent is completed. Then, he'll find solace in the sweet silence remaining in the couple's absence.
He's happy for his brother, really, he is. But he's losing it a bit, not being able to drown out their loved-up murmuring that goes on long into eclipse. Each night, he prays to Ewya that they'll run out of things to talk about, but they never do.
He's pulled from his thoughts at the sound of approaching footsteps. His tail flicks to attention at his back, head swiveling to see who could possibly be awake at this hour. When his eyes find you, his ears flatten against his head, shoulders dropping in defeat.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be out here.” You sound a bit breathless as you slow to a stop at his side.
It makes him wonder what you've been doing. Where you're coming from. His gaze roams your body freely, looking for any clues as to why you're wandering through the village alone, at night. Something prickles in his chest, an unwelcome curiosity that he quickly disregards.
“Shouldn’t you be in your pod or whatever?” He rasps, irritated by the mere sight of you.
A chuckle bubbles in your chest at his choice of words. “You make me sound like some kind of insect.”
“A what?” He doesn't mean to engage, but the inquiry slips out before his exhausted brain can catch up.
“An insect? You know, like a…bug?” Your hands wave animatedly, trying to think of a way to explain the Earthly creatures. If only you knew the Na'vi equivalent.
One of his brows raises in question, the unguarded expression on his face bringing a new warmth to your chest. You've never seen him like this. It's never just been the two of you. The knowledge that the entire clan is fast asleep, far from interrupting, ignites a streak of mischievousness within you.
Smoothly, you plop down beside him, lips twitching at the way he recoils. He leans several inches away, ears lifting in surprise. His tail accidentally brushes against your back, making a shiver roll down your spine. He hastily grabs it, twisting it in his lap to keep it from thumping against the earth.
“They’re these tiny little things that are really annoying.” You settle on saying the first thing that comes to mind, truly having no idea how to explain the concept of an insect to someone who's never seen one.
His thigh keeps caressing yours, and its driving him insane. It makes his stomach flip, heart thrumming wildly between his ribs. He hates it. Hates how his body responds to you despite the fact that he doesn't like you.
“You weren't too far off, then.” He hums thoughtfully, scooting as far away as the tight space with allow.
A laugh twinkles from your lips, the sound making his skin prickle with heat. Fuck, he growls internally, what's wrong with me?
“Are you always so pleasant to guests?” Your eyes trail over his rigid spine and bunched shoulders, wondering what could possibly have him so worked up.
“Only when they aren’t welcome.” He forces an edge to his words, deepens his voice in a way he hopes will deter you.
“You know, I think I’ve figured you out.” Your lips pull into a small smile when his eyes slice to yours, narrowing in warning.
“Are you finished bothering me?” His jaw clenches, hands tightening into fists against his lap.
Something is building deep within his chest, something unfamiliar and stifling. The longer you're near him, the closer he feels to snapping, to spouting words he knows he'll come to regret.
“You care way too much what others think.” The words are a soft whisper as, for some reason, you feel the need to deliver the observation gently.
He rears up as if you've struck him, spine straightening at the audacity you have to be right.
“You don’t know anything about me.” He seethes, ready to make a hasty exit when your next words stop him cold.
“You’re really tense, you know that?”
It's not so much the words, but their insinuation that makes his heart skip a beat. When spoken in that low tone of yours, while your heavy-lidded eyes bore into his, there's really no other way for him to take it. Despite his best efforts, he feels his loincloth tighten against his skin at the mere whisper of releasing that tension with you.
Instantly, irritation tightens his chest, and he chastises himself for fantasizing about such things. At the very least, you're his student. It would be wrong enough if that were the only obstacle. But you're also an outsider—an Avatar—and a guest of the clan. Plus, as he pointedly reminds himself, he doesn't like you.
Your hands raise defensively as you watch his eyes glaze over, expression hardening with a swath of emotion all at once.
“I’m not suggesting anything.” His glare cuts to you, though it quickly falls to your mouth as you speak up again. “I’m just saying, you need to find an outlet before you pull a muscle or something.”
“I don’t need help. Especially not from you.” Despite the harsh words, he finds himself frozen within your heated standoff.
He can't move away, can't peel his gaze from your lips. His stomach turns, heat washes over the skin of his face and neck. He blinks rapidly, forcing his eyes up toward yours. He instantly realizes his mistake, but it’s too late. He’s captivated by you, held hostage by the heat within glittering yellow.
He doesn't notice the way his body sways closer to yours, doesn’t register when you mirror his action.
“Wasn’t offering it.” The words are a breathless whisper, warm air fanning his skin as the space between you shrinks with each passing second.
Your heart flutters, color blanketing your cheeks at his close proximity. It's undeniable that his rough edges only spur you on, encouraging the exploration of whatever this is between you. You instinctively move to touch him, fingertips trailing down the skin of his arm.
In an instant, he jerks away from you, dazed expression long gone. His practiced mask of indifference is firmly back in place within seconds as he puts as much space between you as possible. His chest heaves, breath ragged as he considers what he was about to do.
For the first time, a tiny twinge of defeat cinches your heart. His open rejection does sting, but you're determined to press on, to find the real Neteyam hidden beneath all the insults and quips.
“Every man has a breaking point, Neteyam.” You murmur, quickly stretching to your full height. “See you bright and early.”
You leave him with a knowing glance at the side of his head, as he refuses to look at you. He's reeling, the lapse in judgement unlike anything he's experienced before. He's never been captivated by another, never been even remotely interested in any women in the clan.
It’s all so new, so unfamiliar. He’s never been distracted this way, never had to remind himself so frequently that he shouldn’t be near someone else. It makes his head spin, confusion and frustration creating a volatile mix within him.
His eyes snap upward when he's sure you're out of sight, gaze lingering on the place you once occupied. He forces a hoarse swallow down his throat, knowing he's met his match with you. There's something unexplainable happening, a slip in his painstakingly crafted restraint that makes his heart race.
His shoulders slump as he feels further from sleep than when he arrived. After tonight, he knows the coming days will test his patience in ways he's never experienced.
But for some reason, the thought is more exhilarating than terrifying.
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