#author’s note: he eats sand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivalabunbun · 7 months

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When It Rains, Why Does It Pour?

Summary: Sand is quite a nuisance, it creeps into every crevice and no amount of dusting can free oneself from its stubborn hold. Yet, the tide still greets the shore.

Word Count: 8.8k (oh no...)

Tags: Neuvillette x GN!Reader, human!reader, SFW, fluff, childhood friends AU, Slow Burn, Slow Fic, Angst, Hurt with Comfort, themes about reincarnation, TW: Themes about death and loss, themes about aging, immortal x mortal AU, not lore accurate, reader is an attendant, human prejudice, Spoilers Warning: His story quest and archon quests, speculations about his past in Fontaine, why is he so mysterious

Authors Note: This was a challenge trying to write from the POV of a man you don't even know the name of, but I just had to write something for him. A character study of Neuvillette. Enjoy!

How long has it been since he first arrived here? One month? Two? Or perhaps it has already been a year? The young dragon wasn’t too sure.

The days seem to blend together when one only eats, studies, and sleeps all on repeat. A cruel trait of time. The weather outside the glass windows didn’t provide any hints either.

However, he himself is to blame.

A gray haze concealed azure skies as rhythmic drops of rain hit the earth. Blocking out the all-seeing sun and nurturing moon, the murky clouds above even hinder the stars from accompanying him.

A true reflection of his current solitude.

The young dragon arrived in the human world, brought over by the lord of Fontaine. Due to the nature of his arrival to this nation, he was given status and importance in the eyes of the citizens. However, he has yet to receive acceptance.

The grand estate in which he resides was staffed with countless butlers and maids, renowned chefs, and skilled tutors. He was wanting of nothing, yet still impoverished.

He could see it in their mortal eyes, he could sense it in the tangible silence of the halls, he could tell from the distance each mortal put between themselves and him.

Much like the towering stone walls which surrounded his private residence.

Was it to separate themselves from him or himself from them?

A question he entertains as lilac eyes scan over the aforementioned wall. Its gray stones are a welcomed change from the dry parchment with even drier content.

As he observes the drab stones contrast against a dreary sky, a small flash of white cuts through the somber composition.

Catching his lilac eyes as they follow the strange shape, it drifts through the capricious wind before the breeze grew bored and tossed it to the ground.

Studying it a bit further, the young dragon identifies the object as a simple pillowcase. Nothing more than a scrap of fabric.

He reasons that the wind must’ve stolen it from some clothesline. Just when he was about to return to the legal ledgers a rustling came from the bushes lining the bottom of the wall.

A small frame pushes apart the thick vegetation, creating enough space to finally free themselves from the entangled mess of branches.

The towering wall, the one meant to separate him from the mortals, was defeated by a mere child.

A child who’s clumsy brushing the twigs from their garments and shaking a few raindrops from their hair. He watches as the small human trots toward the discarded pillowcase, a pout forming on their lips as they observe the mud that had seeped into the silk.

Judging by the simple attire they don, they must be the child of a maid.

Ah humans, fickle and temperamental creatures created by the usurpers. It took a conscious effort on his part to stop the frown threatening to appear on his lips.

Seems like he still needs to get used to their presence.

It was as if the child sensed the bitterness in his thoughts because soon a pair of wide eyes connected with lilac. Even with the sun hiding behind dreary clouds, there was a light that twinkled in their irises.

It was only for a minute, no, even less than that. But a young dragon and a young human held each other’s gaze.

The child’s shoulders jolt as they turn their head back toward the wall, as if a voice called for them. Casting one last glance toward the young dragon, the child trots back toward the wall, disappearing within the murky viridescent.

And that was the end, like the breeze that littered a scrap of fabric among the grass, the small human came and went.

Such fickle creatures, the young dragon gives it one last thought before returning his attention back to a cluttered desk.

–

Amongst the soft drumming of droplets came a tap against the glass too sharp to be caused by the gentle rain. Causing the young dragon to turn away from the stacks of books laid out before him.

The wet glass obscured a small flicker of an orange glow, thus he walked closer to investigate. With each step, the figure outside the window became undeciphered.

That small human again.

Locking eyes with the human outside the glass, the fickle creature’s lips curl up, the glow of their lamp illuminating the curiosity behind their gaze.

A human child doesn’t have the potential to cause much if any harm to him. Thus, he releases the lock, removing the glass barrier separating two breathes.

“Hello! What is uh… your name?” They chirp out.

His sharp ears picked up the clumsiness in their speech, the subtle unfamiliarity of the words they spoke. Distinct signs that you were still learning the language of Fontaine, much like him.

Although he understood your question, he was too distracted to answer. Lilac eyes wandering off toward the stone wall. Within the entangled mess of twigs, there was a small parting.

A part just wide enough to reveal the secret the bushes desperately tried to hide: A small hole along the bottom of the stone barrier. Just enough for a small creature to slip through.

Discovering the truth behind how a small human was able to defeat such a seemingly impenetrable wall.

The pattering of the rain was interrupted by the rustling of fabric, drawing his attention back to the small human in front of him.

The child rummages through their pockets before pulling out a lump covered by a handkerchief. Peeling back the layer of fabric to reveal some conch madeleines, presenting fragmented sweets before the young dragon.

“It tastes good, I promise.” A small hand extends itself further through the open window.

Observing the crumbly sweets laid out upon a handkerchief, the young dragon halted the rejection that almost escaped his lips. Remembering the concepts he had just been reading before this.

Humans tend to follow a set of unwritten rules, principles they like to call ‘manners’. There weren’t any punishments issued by law if those rules were broken, no imprisonment or fines.

However, narrow-eye stares and whispers behind backs were the punishments issued to transgressors by society.

So, he accepts a piece, trying to ignore the sand-like sensation against his tongue. As he chewed, the grin on the human’s face only got wider.

“Now that you’ve taken one, you have to give me your name, it’s only uh… fair!”

Ah, it looks like he’s been tricked. Falling into the clumsy sugar-coated trap only a child could come up with. Yet, as his lilac gaze caught the twinkle still ever so bright in their eyes, he didn’t have the strength to form a frown.

Just a curious human child, only as dangerous as a firefly buzzing in his ear. There shouldn’t be any harm in disclosing the surname bestowed upon him by this nation.

“Neuvillette.” He finally said his first words to you.

A peculiar pattern is recurring. That rainy night when Neuvillette opened those windows, it looked like he welcomed a phenomenon in as well.

Even in his current state, a small human like you could pose no possible threat to him. Thus, whenever a certain tap was placed against the glass. He saw no reason to turn away the visitor. Allowing you to climb in through his window time and time again.

It would’ve been better if you used the door. However, he’s aware of the complications such a request would bring.

Perhaps it’s because he’s currently in the form of a young child, sharing a similar stature to yours. From his observations, humans do have a tendency to gravitate toward those with similar traits. Or perhaps, you’re just exceptionally brazen.

Neuvillette glances up from his book, thick with endless sentences describing obscure and frivolous laws, landing on your frame lazing around upon a rug.

One hand holds onto a collection of fables, pages illuminated by the gentle rays of a star. While the other periodically reaches out toward a pile of conch madeleine.

A sight he’s come to expect now.

Lavender eyes follow your hand as it brings another one of the crumbly sweets to your mouth again. You brought them over under the pretense of sharing them with him, yet they’re already half gone. The only hand reaching for the sweets being yours.

Just like how it was last time, and the time before that, and the one before that as well.

If you felt this complacent in his presence now, then perhaps he can be more candid with you. As is common practice among humans to present a polite front that gradually wears away each recurring meeting.

“You do not have to bring over any more conch madeleine.”

The moment those words left his lips the motion of your hand halted, looking up to connect your sight with his, confusion pinching together your brows.

“Oh? Why so suddenly?” The collection of fables now resting on the rug.

It’s already been done, the first ripple in the frangible water between you and him. There is nothing that can cease the waves that accompany the first breach. He might as well say the whole truth.

“They are dry, I cannot fathom how you can bring yourself to eat them.” Prescriptive eyes caught a faint flinch as you processed his edict.

“They taste fine to me…” You mutter, picking another one up.

This time you chewed slower. The pinch between your brow only grew as you tasted the sweet again, searching for the perceived flaw.

As you met his gaze once more, he could tell your search brought forth no fruitful conclusions. Thus you asked another question in response.

“Then what do you like?”

Besides the pleasantries commonly exchanged between humans in Fontaine, Neuvillette recognizes he lacks the talent for small talk.

The room usually filled with your grievances about whichever tedious task you were assigned before you slipped away behind a wall and into his private residence. Ambient noise which accompanied each flip of a law book.

It is long overdue for him to pull his weight in a conversation.

“Water, spring water.”

“Huh?”

Neuvillette repeats his sentence but the scrunch of your brows doesn’t ease up, he couldn’t fight the urge to draw in a deep breath. So this is the limitation of the human palate, how regrettable.

“Perhaps you are still too simple to appreciate the qualities of water.”

The pout upon your crumb-covered lips morphs into a tight line, sealing away your voice. The brightly printed cover of a storybook was shut as the last few remaining treats were bundled away in a napkin.

Your tea break ended early today, impassive eyes following your figure as it disappeared among the thick vegetation beside a stone barrier.

It was quiet today, not even a single parting uttered past your sealed lips. Therefore leaving the conversation unfinished.

But that is today, you’ll have another tea break tomorrow, and you’ll come to him with your grievances about chores tomorrow as well.

The young dragon returns his focus to the text in front of him.

–

The soft hymn of raindrops against a glass window reverbed through the solitary study, providing a melody for the periodic flips of paper. But the melody was hollow, incomplete.

Shifting his body to look behind himself at the vacant rug, Neuvillette deduces why. The accompaniment was missing.

That tomorrow he had come to expect never came.

Had he committed a transgression? Overstep a line outside his place? Food is a point of pride for many humans, one oddity he’s yet to grasp.

These temperamental creatures tend to lash out when their pride is wounded, much like how a beast reacts to an unhealed cut.

Neuvillette was curious as to whether this was an inherent trait of humanity or a learned by-product of the fickle principles imposed on themselves.

However, observing the abandoned storybook tucked away, the young dragon is leaning towards the former.

Turning back to face his desk, his eyes could only glaze over the monotonous scribbles. Perhaps the cause of his spiritless attitude was disappointment, disappointment in himself.

It looks like he was careless, deluding himself with the misconception that you and him were alike. Two outsiders who found solace in each other’s presence.

However, this was false. You were an outsider to Fontaine, but he was an outsider to this world where humans walked.

He’s still too naive.

Fickle and temperamental creatures spoiled by the usurpers at the expense of his ancestors.

Why did he even entertain the thought that you and him could ever be alike?

Something stirred from within, like when pebbles were thrown into still water, but what were those pebbles? As Neuvillette ponders this conundrum, the drumming of the rain grows louder.

However, it wasn’t loud enough to swallow up the sharp set of taps which interrupted his somber reflection. Jolting him from his thoughts, snapping his attention to the source of the noise.

There stood a figure distorted by the wet glass as another set of sharp taps sounded through the room.

Before Neuvillette could even process it, his body moved without his command. Unlatching the lock and setting the window free from its frame.

Not sparing another second to the raindrops soaking into their cloak, the figure clambers through the window with practiced proficiency.

Without uttering a single greeting, not even one pleasantry, you situated yourself on his floor. Melting into an undignified lump on the pristine tiles as bewildered eyes watched you.

After catching a few breaths, an explanation finally makes its way to his ears.

“T-they… they patched… up the hole,” you huffed out between short breaths.

Ah, the small cavity in the stone wall that you used to escape from chores. Looks like the security at the estate finally noticed.

Gauging the height of the wall from his place by the window, he’s aware of how it towers over both him and you the same.

This brings up another question as he returns to observe your frame, still trying to catch the breaths that evade you.

“I… ran… through the gates… before the… Gardes noticed…” Exhaustion evident in your eyes as pants break up your sentence.

Ah, looks like his question was answered before he even inquired. To be puzzled or amazed, he wasn’t too sure how to categorize this ripple inside him.

The tomorrow that’s been missing for a little more than two weeks, is now right in front of him.

Panting and leaving a few muddy traces along the marble floor, but here nonetheless.

With one deep motion of your lungs, you pushed your body up, finally getting ahold of your breath. The familiar rustle of your pocket, the audio cue for a certain dry sweet to appear. Neuvillette didn’t mind in the least.

Perhaps, he can bear the sandy sensation just for today. But tomorrow is always filled up with surprises, a glass bottle finding its way out of your pocket instead of sugary treats.

“What is that?” An obvious question, but his voice found its way out of his mouth.

“Water, water from the servant’s well, I bottled it myself.” A small hand holds the bottle out more.

“Thank you,” Neuvillette accepts it into his hands.

He should really acquire some glasses to pour the water out into, it’s improper and bad manners to drink from the bottle.

However, his curiosity was greater. Or maybe, he didn’t realize just how parched he had become from waiting for tomorrow.

Uncapping the clumsily packaged water, he takes a generous sip.

“It’s sweet.” His tongue picking up on a subtle saccharine undertone.

“Really?” Your hand reaches up as that familiar shine illuminates your eyes.

Taking a sip from the bottle passed back into your grasp, your brows furrowing in concentration. Another sip was taken from the bottle as you continued to search for the sweetness in the water you’ve always drank.

A sight that tugged up at the lips of a boy still studying the shape of your quirked brows.

Humans, fickle, perplexing, yet astoundingly curious creatures from the very beginning.

If he is to walk amongst the human world, then it’s best for him to be equally curious. To try and search for the harmony between two different breaths.

A child of a maid far from their homeland. A status too insignificant to warrant the attention of Fontaine's factions, freeing you from their prying eyes and entanglements.

Therefore, it should be alright for him to continue observing you, no?

“Ahh… The rain is so unpredictable here in Fontaine, trying to hang out the wash here is always a gamble.” You sink further into the plush cushions of his settee.

As the sun rose and fell, as the leaves grew green then gold, as the ground froze and thawed.

One thing remained unchanged throughout these cycles even as they repeated: your grievances over chores.

The frequency of these complaints reaching his ears has increased, on the part that you now took over more of your mother’s responsibilities in managing the laundry of this estate.

Besides your habitual complaints of the weather, one detail didn’t escape Neuvillette’s hearing: your proficiency in the Fontainian language has increased significantly.

Words no longer spoken clumsily or with unfamiliarity. Accent nearly indistinguishable from a native speaker.

“The people here are fond of creating strange machinery, why can’t they make something to dry clothes?” You resume.

The quill in his hand stops as he pauses in the middle of a sentence, glancing over his shoulder toward your slouching figure making yourself comfortable in the sofa that’s more familiar with your shape than his.

“Perhaps you should be the one to create it, studying might do you some good as well,” came his curt response.

His candid advice makes you sink further into the cushions with a groan.

“I’d rather travel than study those jumbled-up books about machinery or whatever, in fact, I want to visit my homeland as soon as I can,” you grumble aloud.

Ah, that’s right, you’re approaching the age where you could travel freely.

By law, you won’t be bound to the side of your mother, not needing any permission to come to and fro however you wish. No longer kept at this estate washing and folding sheets.

Indeed, you and him found yourselves in similar situations: on the cusp of freedom from this estate.

While he was deep in thought, you filled the silence left behind by posing a question to him.

“Do you plan on visiting your homeland anytime soon, Neuvi?”

By now, the young dragon had stopped expending the effort to try and correct you in your butchering of his surname. Your reason being ‘it’s too long’.

Alongside you, he has grown in stature as well, elapsing you some time ago much to your dismay. If he wished to travel, not much would pose a problem to the young dragon.

However… where could he return to? A homeland… was there a section of his homeland untouched by the usurpers? If he were to go, would he ever want to return to this world?

Sensing the change in the air, dreary clouds blocking the sun’s rays from your skin, you were perceptive enough to ramble about a different matter.

Namely, how the chef of the estate recently changed the type of flour used in the kitchens, resulting in pastries and sweets that were less airy but more flavorful.

Explaining to him the subtle improvements and deterioration in the quality of some baked goods. Filling the air of the study with bright-eyed ramblings until rays of light peek out from waning clouds.

–

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It’s been a while since you’ve visited!” Soft patters of skipping steps made their way to the tall man.

Tilting his sights down, Neuvillette greets the cheery melusine with a gentle smile which she returned with an equally bright grin.

While on a routine stroll along the riverbanks to stretch his legs after a long day, he found himself at the entrance of Merusea Village.

He wonders if it's his body’s natural response to get away from the Palais Mermonia and Opera Epiclese.

Carrying him toward the direction of a secluded reprieve he discovered far away from the suspicious eyes of weary humans.

Condemnatory eyes were constantly pinned to the back of the young dragon who had recently emerged from a sheltered estate to sit in the grand seat of a Chief Justice.

Days filled with nothing but a cacophony of voices echoing off the opera house walls. Screams from the accused and the eager murmurs of spectators blended into nothing more than a chaotic din in his ears.

Gazing deeper into the small lake, the unsuspecting entrance to a hidden haven that the Melusines called home.

It would only take a moment, just one dip into the pristine water for him to disappear from the clamorous mortal realm.

Abandoning the overly grand seat of his post as easily as it would take for his head to vanish under the tranquil tide.

How great would it be to exist in the presence of creatures who could resonate with his own adriftness?

Maybe, he could finally discover the purpose of his current form and longevity in their company. Yes, that sounds about right.

Just as the water wet the tip of his overly ornate shoe, all motion his body stills at a familiar call.

“NEUVI!” Came a voice from just over the beaten path.

Soon your silhouette follows the echo of your call, steps hurried yet worn.

When the young dragon departed from his temporary estate and into the Palais Mermonia, a certain specter followed him as well.

The same specter who’s currently huffing to catch their breath after such a rush. Trying to gather enough air to form their next sentence.

“There you are! The grand tailor sent me to fetch you because you’re almost an hour late to the fitting of your new robe, they need to make sure the measurements are correct,” you chide.

The exasperation of your words was most definitely caused by the fact you had to physically exert yourself in your search for the wandering Chief Justice. Evident by the pout on your lips and scrunched nose.

His attention was quickly torn away from your recuperating figure by a faint tug of his slacks.

The Melusine had hidden herself behind his legs, creating a barrier between her and the strange mortal who seemingly appeared from the blue.

Her sudden movement caught your attention as well.

Ah, that’s right. The Melusines have yet to be acquainted with humans, and humans with Melusines.

Two different species, two different breaths, and two different sets of eyes that can’t seem to see directly into each other.

If his time within the wall of the estate and Palais Mermonia had proven anything, it would be the natural adversity humans had to differences.

Neuvillete certainly wasn’t prepared for such an event, nor was he sure how to handle it.

In the midst of his inaction, your hand reached into your pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a handkerchief-covered lump.

Despite the soreness in your legs, you lowered your body until you were at eye level with the shorter Melusine.

“Hello there, would you like some conch madeleines?” Unraveling the fabric to reveal the sweets which you seem to have an abundant supply of.

The grip on his slacks tightened as she glanced up at him, lilac eyes catching the hesitance in her irises. Neuvillette gives a subtle nod, giving just enough reassurance for the small creature to release his pant leg.

Reaching a mitten-like hand toward the golden sweets, it only took one bite for the hesitance in her eyes to be replaced by a bright twinkle.

“It’s tasty isn’t it?” Your lips formed a wider grin.

The Melusine responds with an eager nod, too occupied with bringing more of the buttery treat into her mouth.

At the sight of her restless chewing covering her cheeks with faint crumbs, you let out a giggle.

“I’ll give you the rest of the sweets if you tell me your name,” you offered.

After a few moments of the Melusine finishing her previous bite, she falls for the same trap he had many years ago.

“My name is Carole!” She chirps.

“What a wonderful name.” Your gaze softened further as you held out the treats, keeping your promise.

As Carole reaches for more, she glances back up. Wide eyes twinkling as she inquires him with the one thought currently on her mind.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, does the human world have more treats as delicious as these?”

Ah, it looks like the stroll Neuvillette took today to relieve himself of mounting troubles only led him to more.

The skies over the Court of Fontaine have been in a pensive stalemate, all too familiar clouds blocking azure hues. However, rain has yet to patter on the ground, as if the weather was unsure of itself.

A feeling shared by the Chief Justice currently sitting at his desk, reviewing the details of the day’s trials. Albeit, half heartily.

Much like the skies crowded with clouds, in the solitude of his office, his mind rang loud with thoughts. Neuvillette only had himself to blame for the current silence of his office, it’s been this way for around a week going on two now.

Lilac eyes peered over the tops of the papers toward the shut doors, concealing him away. There hasn’t been a knock on those doors for some time now, due to the diligent Melusines who followed his request.

Turning away potential visitors with crafted excuses of ‘The Chief Justice is handling a very important case’ or ‘My apologies, but the Chief Justice is very busy’.

Neuvillette recognizes that he’s currently no different than a child hiding away from the consequences of a broken vase.

How childish, he chides himself as he returns back to his responsibilities. How would the citizens of Fontaine react to their Chief Justice conducting himself in such a manner?

He’s sure if Lady Furina were to catch wind of his behavior, she’d be greatly entertained.

As if the mere mention of the nation’s archon presented a bad omen, the sturdy doors of his office swung open, revealing the face of a familiar visitor who’s been turned away one too many times.

“My my, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the inside of this office, I almost forgot what it looks like,” you remark as your eyes hone in on him.

The child’s hiding place under the bed has been exposed.

“Good afternoon, I was not made aware you had any appointments with me.” Neuvillette’s own eyes trail past yours.

From behind the door frames the figures of two Melusines quickly dodged away from his sight. A silent admission of guilt on their part, and Neuvillette didn’t have to look hard to deduce the crime they’ve committed: Accepting bribes.

The evidence was right there in the form of buttery crumbs left on the corner of their mouths. Ah, you and with those conch madeleines of yours.

It’d be best for him to finally handle the situation at hand, one he’s been trying to maneuver out of.

“If I recall correctly, you were granted a vacation, why not take this chance to travel? It certainly is a prime opportunity-”

“Why have you been avoiding me, Monsieur?” you cut through the long-winded pleasantries and excuses.

His lips press together, by now he’s well accustomed to your brazenness. However, the absence of a familiar name only said in your voice made the guilt weigh heavier on his shoulders.

Guilt which originated a few weeks prior.

—

On a secluded riverbank, a routine walk under clear skies was halted. You were knelt down on the ground, uncaring of the sand sticking to the fabric of your clothes, as you held a Melusine between your arms. Two mittened hands clung to you as she soaked your shoulder with tears.

“W-why? Why did he have to go?” Her sobs interrupted by sudden hiccups.

As you rubbed circles into her back, something he saw humans do to soothe their crying young, Neuvillette watched from the side. Much like how he would observe those performances within the Opera Epiclese.

Liath is her name, a diligent Melusine who patrolled the grounds of the Palais Mermonia. By her side, there would be a guard poodle who’d matched her skips with his prances. An inseparable duo, or it’d be more accurate to say, they were once an inseparable duo.

Dogs are a species domesticated by humans, some might argue that they were created by humanity through generations of selection. So it stands to reason that they too would have a limited lifespan.

In fact, they have a lifespan even more restricted than that of the mortals who tamed them.

The Melusines have just begun walking amongst humans, there were still many aspects their sheltered minds have yet to grasp. The fleetingness of mortality is one of them.

Thus, Neuvillette did his best to caution them.

However, just like how laws can’t completely stop crimes, his words can’t completely prevent such tragedies. All he could do was try.

“I’m sorry for your grief, this was the very reason why I cautioned you against getting too attached to him… A dog’s life is brief-”

“Monsieur Neuvillette.”

The sentence died at the tip of his tongue as his eyes met yours. Gaze narrowed and brows furrowed, not even the Chief Justice dared to interject any further.

After you silenced him, your focus returned back to the grieving Melusine.

Slowly standing back up from the ground, her frame cradled in your arms as her sobs continued.

“I know it hurts,” you whispered, one hand patting her back, setting a steady rhythm reminding her to breathe.

“B-but why? W-why is it so sad?” she hiccuped.

You hummed, beginning to bounce her a bit within your hold.

“Wouldn’t it be sadder if you never met him?”

At your question, the Melusine stares at you through teary eyes. Expression lined with confusion.

“To have loved him, and for him to have loved you in return…isn’t that enough?” You cooed, taking steps away from the riverbank.

Still frozen in his place, the dragon could only stare at your back as it grew further and further away, soon disappearing from his view.

He had misspoke.

Neuvillette recalled last Autumn. As the vivid hues of the foliage shriveled up to nothing more than a shadow of their former beauty, you laid your mother to rest. Burying her in a cemetery which overlooked the direction of your homeland.

His unsolicited reprimand must have been throwing salt into a wound that still bled. He had overstepped his authority.

Murky clouds congregated in the once clear sky.

—

Those were the events that transpired, events that have led to the current stalemate happening in his office. Lilac eyes couldn’t seem to find the courage to connect with yours. Another excuse finding its way to his tongue.

“Didn’t you want to visit your homeland?”

“Oh?” Your brow quirks up, as your hands find their way to your hips.

“And then who’d be here to repair the tears in your robe when you inevitably step on them?” Obviously unimpressed by his suggestion.

“Surely there are other talented tailors here that can handle the task,” he rebukes.

“Oh? Will they also untangle your hair from the ornamentation of chairs?” You press on.

“I can manage.”

“Then can the Chief Justice also manage all the uniforms for the Melusines? Can he sew every button and ensure they fit correctly?”

Ah, with your last statement, Neuvillette concedes. A hush fills the room.

The Melusines are still new to walking amongst humans, not many were willing to tailor specialized uniforms for their short stature. Thus, you took up the mantle.

Perhaps out of a sense of responsibility, it was you who stirred their curiosity with those sweets of yours.

It seems responsibilities tethered you to the Court of Fontaine, much like they did to him. After a few breaths, as always, your voice shatters the stalemate.

“I’m not upset, Neuvi.”

With those words, his lilac eyes finally connect with yours. Finally able to see the soft curls at the corners of your lips.

It indeed has been a while since he last saw such a sight.

This time instead of replying with an excuse, he responds with a gentle hum.

“Ugh, why are your curtains so dusty? When was the last time you went outside?” It wasn’t long before your attention returned to the state of his office.

Strolling past his desk, your hands began to fuss with the thick drapes. Pouting at the dust that coated the lush fabrics.

All Neuvillette could do was follow with his gaze, papers long pushed to the side as for the first time in a while, an azure hue was seen peeking through the clouds.

From his observations, it’s instinctive for humans to avoid pain. However, it’d be hypocritical of him to judge mortals for actions he’s been guilty of.

“If I knew I had to work this hard now, I would’ve skipped more chores back at the estate,” you chuckle, pulling back the drapes to allow gold to illuminate his office.

To have loved and have been loved in return.

Was this the human rationale behind taming a dog? Having the reality of the future constantly lurking over each happy moment as the hands of time tick forward.

Why do humans dote on pets? Creatures that only live a fraction of a mortal life?

Are happy memories a fair exchange for bitter grief, or are they the cure?

As Neuvillette counts the strands of peeking silver that mingle within your lush locks, he prays he finds the answer soon.

The clacks of ornate shoes reverberate down once unfamiliar halls, a towering figure lurks past bustling nurses who bow their heads at the sight of the Chief Justice as he passes by.

With a body like his, there is no reason for him to wander among these halls. Or more accurately, there once was no reason.

The taps of his soles slowed as a familiar door came into view, the only detail which differentiated it from the rest of the hall being the brass numbers displayed. Bringing up a glove-clothed knuckle, delicate taps were placed against the wood.

Almost immediately, a muffled ‘come in’ resounded behind the frame. Granting the Iudex permission to turn the polished knob, allowing him entry as the hinges sang their welcome.

“My, my, if it isn’t Monsieur Neuvillette, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” A grin spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes.

Instantly his frame stiffens in the midst of returning the door to its frame. Bringing his free hand up to his face, Neuvillette coughs as to compose himself once more.

“Please, forgo the formalities.”

Though your eyes might not be as sharp as they once were, the delicate dusting of pink along his pointed ears couldn’t escape their sight. Making your eyes crinkle more.

Feeling entertained enough, you cease your teasing and gesture toward the vacant chair beside your bed.

Obediently, his towering figure strides up to the seat, the wood squeaking under his weight as he settles onto it.

By now, the dragon has grown accustomed the structure of greetings, beginning with a layer of pleasantries.

“How have you been fairing?” Lavender eyes scrutinize the sheets and pillows, searching for any unapparent flaws.

“It’s just a mild case of pneumonia,” you muse aloud.

Momentarily resting his eyes behind a slow blink, all he could do was sigh at your brazen nonchalantness. Yet with a ghost of a smile on the same lips that sighed.

It was a mild case of pneumonia, a common ailment during the frosty months. For someone as steadfast as you, such an illness might’ve surrendered to your stubbornness.

It might've surrendered… if your body had remained as it once was.

How unfortunate it all is, that time is so cruel to mortal creatures.

Attentive eyes detailing each crease that settled by your lips, remnants of the many grins and laughs that stretched your face.

The basking light of a selfish star catches in your hair, lush hues that have faded to brilliant ivory. A shade that you often compare to his while jesting, ‘We match now’.

However, Neuvillette begs to differ, the sunlight is much more luminous in your tresses.

Trailing his sights back to your gaze. Deep lines formed by countless dynamic expressions drew attention to the glimmer forever present in your irises. Like paths on a map that led lilac eyes to yours.

“How are you finding your stay?” At times, Neuvillette found himself wondering how the azure tides appeared from your view.

“Mm, quite uneventful, eating, staring out a window, sleeping.”

He hums in response, contemplating if he should inquire you about such subjects. As you ramble, perhaps the dragon could grasp onto an inkling of understanding.

“Well, at least I can say that my stay has been anything but lonely.” Your eyes motioning toward a corner.

The bland, sterile wall overshadowed by a mass comprised of trinkets ranging from local flowers to any object whose surface catches light.

The heap grows day by day as each Melusine continues to bring their earnest gratitude to the human who sew each stitch of their coats. A sight that could stir even the most placid lake.

“They’re such sweethearts.” Each one of your words coated with endearment.

Once more, all the dragon could respond with was a mellow hum. Slow breaths fill the complacent silence between two species, one blessed by time and one shunned by it.

Neuvillette has grown accustomed to the structure of conversations but, alas, he still has no talent for small talk.

In the absence of dialogue, the layer of short pleasantries long dissolving, Neuvillette is left with nothing but his inquiries. It was all he had left, and so it was all he could offer.

“Are there any regrets you hold?”

“Oh oh? Getting sentimental so out of the blue, Neuvi?” A familiar quirk graces your brow.

“It’s nothing of the sort, just a musing that drifted in my mind during a stroll, I wish to know your thoughts on the matter.”

“Mmm… I don’t feel that I have any regrets, living an honest life and having the fortune to never have stepped foot in the Fortress of Meropide.”

“Is that really all? You never did get to travel like you dreamed of back at the estate.”

“Haha, trying to stump me with that, Neuvi?” you chuckle.

Relaxing more into the pillows which propped up your weary frame, you trail your sights toward the window.

“Didn’t I tell you already? I’ll have plenty of time to travel once I become a cloud, I can go everywhere the sky can reach.” Smile softening on your lips.

Neuvillette’s folded hands grasp one another tighter on his lap, his own lips pressing each other into a thin line.

The conversation was teetering closer and closer to the unspoken reality looming like a shadow in the room.

He wasn’t sure when it started, maybe when the first silver strands appeared in your hair or when you discovered his skin won’t wrinkle along with you.

He wasn’t sure when your adamant belief of becoming a cloud once the shadow came to claim you started.

Neuvillette wonders if this daydream was the product of those fables you browsed when you laid upon a plush rug.

Or was it your personally crafted fable to explain the incomprehensible to a creature who couldn’t fully grasp it?

A creature whose skin didn’t wrinkle, whose bones didn’t grow brittle. A creature seemingly untouched by time.

Fairytales do serve this purpose for children, magical fantasies to make uncomfortable realities palatable to naive minds.

“...vi?... Ne…?... Neuvi.”

A hand marred with age takes hold of one glove-clad hand, and a pleasant heat radiates through the leather. Coaxing Neuvillette’s attention back from its escapade.

“My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

But the frown weighing down on your lips didn’t disappear, much like how retreating into musings couldn’t wash away any shadows.

Your chest moves with a deep inhale.

“Maybe I do have one regret,” you began.

Readjusting your ailing fingers in his hold so that he could hold them with equal endearment, his ears concentrate on your voice.

“Actually, I have many,” you sigh.

Before he could formulate a response, you continued.

“I wish I could have shoulder the burdens you carry. I wish you would’ve shared them with me. And I wish I could even understand them, then maybe I could have understood you more.” Turning to face him, your disheartened eyes center on his frame.

A child born from a maid, a maid who traveled to Fontaine in hopes of a better future for her child. That was your origin, an outsider with neither fame nor fortune.

Thus, even as you followed him from a secluded estate to the grand Palais Mermonia, you could never follow him in status nor influence.

As unrest grew, as injustices mounted, and as tragedies took away friends.

All you could do was repair tears, sew buttons, and pour him a crisp glass of spring water as you waited for the storm to wash despair away.

That was how you saw it. But Neuvillette rebukes that notion.

The dignity of a newly established Chief Justice, who kept stepping on his overly ornate robes, was carefully maintained by you.

The Melusine’s uniforms, which solidified their presence in the human world, were crafted by you.

The patient hand that always offered silent comfort in the suffocating courts was yours.

Standing by his side, even as your bones grew to ache, to ensure the storm would pass and the sun emerge once more.

“You’ve done more than enough.” He states the truth, grasping your hand just a bit tighter.

“Are you sure?” Those airy chuckles of yours made their appearance again.

“I never even learned your real name,” you interject.

A knife, red hot and fresh from the forge, would have hurt less than the guilt which tore through him at that moment.

The Chief Justice, the symbol of honesty and conviction, is unable to tell the simplest truth.

What shall he do now?

The power of a name is often underestimated, the exchanging of names signifying the forging of a bond. One that would forever tether him to you and you to him.

Oh, what shall he do now?

Before his hesitant lips could take action, they were halted by a squeeze from your ailing grasp. Firm and warm, like a light that guides him up from the bottom of a turbulent ocean.

“You don’t have to tell me now, Neuvi, tell me when I come back from my trip.” Those gentle eyes of yours smile at him.

Reeling his hand in closer to you with your own, until the softness of your lips was felt along covered knuckles.

A common practice in Fontaine, one Neuvillette had witnessed time and time again as he passed the lovers who congregated by the Fountain of Leucine. Actions that dedicated promises to one another.

“I swear, once I’ve traveled enough, once I grow bored of foreign scenery, I’ll fall back down like rain to your side.” You whisper into the kiss.

It was his turn now, and he shall honor this ritual. Tenderly bringing in your hand to him, Neuvillette places his oath.

“Then I swear, when you return, I’ll tell you my name.” He whispers in the kiss.

The sterile rooms echo your airy chuckles as he keeps your hand close to himself for just a bit longer.

“Mmm… Where I should go first? Maybe I’ll just amble about,” you ponder aloud.

Gracing him with a smile which stretched your face and brought that familiar glimmer into your eyes.

“I wish you well on your travels.” Neuvillette presses another kiss into your knuckles.

–

Spring was always the rainy season for Fontaine, with gentle temperate showers to welcome the budding blooms back from their Winter sleep.

However, this year the torrential downpour was anything but gentle.

Planned trips canceled for the season, clothes remaining damp in baskets, and streets empty of their vigor. Even the Melusines couldn’t bring a skip to their steps.

It was as if time itself was slowed by the burdensome downpour.

The cawing of crows as their wings beat against the dreary winds adds to the lonely hymn sung by the raindrops.

At once the cadence of the rain increased, the downpour growing heavier, and the violent pattering grew deafening. As if the sky was now belting out their sorrowful ballad.

The rain could try. The skies can cry all they would like. But time, a cruel and unforgiving mistress, won’t ever stop.

To have loved and been loved, was it truly enough?

In Neuvillete’s eyes, he was the tide and you were the shore. The ebb and flow of water as the tide and shore met, time and time again.

Each crash into the shore stirred up something perplexing and disorderly within the tide, irritating like the sand that mixed into the pristine waves.

So the tide tried to retreat into the lonesome ocean.

Each time, the shore followed through grains of sand which the tide couldn’t ever seem to purge himself of.

Each time, the shore beckoned the tide to return to the sandy beaches of humanity filled with perplexities and disorder.

And each time, the tide surrendered to the call of the shore, lured in by its warmth.

But now, the shore has eroded away.

Where does the tide go now?

Drifting now in the vastness of a lonesome ocean, carrying nothing grains of sand. What shall the tide do now?

Neuvillette still has a lot to learn, for he couldn’t answer this riddle conjured by his own mind.

Unable to stop himself, the lone dragon stares off into the rain.

Eyes honing in the direction of a peaceful hill, one where a mother and child were laid to rest side by side overlooking a homeland they never got to visit.

Maybe that was the first destination of your journey.

During these past short years spent in this land, the young successor of the dragons has gained traitorous knowledge. One that undermines his preconceived purpose.

Neuvillette feels he’s grasped onto the faintest inkling of why humans, as fickle, perplexing, and fleeting as they are, were still the most beloved creatures of the gods.

Perhaps, he even understands now why those usurpers were willing to uproot the earth just for those beloved creatures.

The wet season transitions into the dry season, then the dry season will transition into another wet season. Again and again, on and on as the hands of a clock ticks forward.

Each new tick signifies another step forward in the march of time.

Each step brings change and each step pulls the present away from the past.

The rainy season of Spring was no longer as troublesome as it once was, as there was now a machine on the market that could dry clothes without the help of a bright star.

Melusines skip along down the paved paths of the Court of Fontaine as humans turn to greet them with endearing smiles.

New cafes line bustling streets as Clockwork Mekas make their evening patrols.

A great many changes have come to Fontaine, Neuvillette witnessed them all from his office at the Palais Mermonia.

A great many changes, yet some things are bound to stay the same. For example, the Chief Justice’s fondness for strolls along vacant riverbanks.

The gentle patters of raindrops lull the chaotic sympathy of trials, paperwork, and duties to a standstill. Reaching a hand out in front of him, Neuvillette catches a few drops in the palm of his gloved hand.

Lilac eyes examine the diminutive puddle in his hand before ultimately releasing the water back to the earth.

He supposes he’s been feeling a bit nostalgic as of late, like a child recalling a story which once soothed them to a peaceful slumber. How childish it was for him to believe he could somehow catch a certain raindrop in his hands.

Turning up toward the drab sky, he searches through the endless and identical droplets that fall down and leave trails along his face.

No, not yet. Perhaps they have yet to see all that the sky has to offer.

Neuvillette returns his focus to the path in front of him. The rhythmic clacks of his shoes match with the soft drumming of the rain, and in the midst of this harmony a voice singings out:

“Hydro dragon… uh… Hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

Halting his stride. Judging by the unfamiliarity of their tongue pronouncing the lullaby, Neuvillette deduces they must be a visitor to Fontaine.

Ah that local legend, just how far has it spread? Nevertheless, an unfortunate traveler who’s unfamiliar with Fontaine’s seasons is now caught in this rain.

It would only be polite to offer them some assistance as the Iudex of this nation. Thus, he turns in the direction of the call.

His suspicions were confirmed once his gaze landed on a distressed frame, their face obscured by the jacket they held over their head in a makeshift umbrella.

It only took a few steps for the towering man to make it to their side.

“There is a tree you can take shelter under just ahead,” he advises the lost traveler.

Now aware of his presence in front of them, they lifted the jacket from their line of sight to peer up at him. Revealing the details of their face to lilac eyes for the first time.

That was all it took for the symphony of rain to come to an end.

Soft drumming decrescendos into tranquility. It seems as if there will be an earlier welcome of flowers.

“Oh?” You gaze up at the azure hue now peeking out from receding gray, astonishment reflected in the glimmer of your eyes.

You’ve only heard of a local Fontainian legend from a guide pamphlet offered to tourists as you awaited the Aquabus.

When the rain suddenly began to pour as you ambled about a riverside, in a moment of desperation as you scrambled for shelter under a thin jacket you uttered the phrase.

You weren’t sure if the hydro dragon could understand your botched pronunciation, but it looks like he did.

Turning back to face the kind stranger, you wanted to convey your amazement to him. But the words fade just off the tip of your tongue when you peek back at the towering man.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as dumbstruck eyes widen at the sight of the drenched man.

“Mister?… Are you alright?” You scan over him, turning your attention away to sift through your pockets.

How bewildering it must be for you to witness a well-dressed and noble figure drenched to the bone. However, Neuvillette made no attempt to stop the rivulets rolling down his cheeks, a parting gift from the Spring showers.

He wonders as his gaze never left your frame, were tears perhaps this warm too?

“Here.” Your concern-ridden hand offers up a neatly folded handkerchief to the drenched man.

As your eyes connect with his, a strange sensation tickled the back of your mind. As if it was trying to recall where you’ve seen the familiar lavender hue.

Maybe they matched the shade of a flower field you stumbled upon during your travels, or maybe that lilac luster was revealed to you in a dream.

A strange familiarity you couldn’t name.

“Thank you very much.” He accepts the simple piece of cloth with tenderness rivaling that of conservators handing the renowned paintings of old masters.

The clouds were long gone by now, perhaps they felt that their purpose had long been fulfilled. The golden rays of a lone star shone with all their brilliance, finally free from behind their blanket of drap clouds.

It was only now that Neuvillette found out. The rain he had been yearning for all these years did in fact see all that the sky had to offer.

They had grown bored of drifting over vast plains, missing the picturesque countryside of Fontaine. Or perhaps their curiosity grew too great, wishing to finally hear a truth that was kept from them.

So much so, they quietly fell down from the sky, to return to his side again.

Much like the hands in a clock, the cycle of water and earth follows a similar circular path.

The rain had eroded away stubborn earth with its diligent drumming over the years.

Bit by bit and piece by piece until stone fractures into bits of sand. Over and over until a sandy beach was formed by the side of a patient sea.

Then the tide will reunite with its long-awaited shore, to return the sand and promise it cradled within its waves for so long.

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#vivalabunbunfics #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette angst #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #neuvillette headcanons #neuvillette x y/n #neuvilette x you

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foxy-eva · 9 months

Text

Nude Beach

Summary: Reader finally convinces Spencer to go to the beach with her. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) nudity, awkwardness, teasing, fingering, handjob, semi-public sex (in a car), unprotected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge!

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

After solving a case at this picturesque, vacation-like place, your boss decided that your team should stay for another day for some much needed time off. It was the perfect opportunity for a beach day.

When everyone started making plans for the day at the breakfast table, you realized that nobody wanted to go see the ocean with you. Half of your team decided to go to a spa while the others planned a hike. Neither of those options were particularly intriguing for Spencer but he still didn’t agree to come to the beach with you.

Spencer explained why he’d rather stay in the hotel, “Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull fe–”

“Reid!” Hotch interrupted him. “We’re eating breakfast.”

“Come on, pretty boy! I’m sure you’d find some engaging topography if you go with (y/n),” Morgan teased the both of you.

“That’s inappropriate,” JJ scolded her coworker before snickering, “He’s right though.”

You felt your cheeks heating up at their words. Spencer had never looked at you for longer than was necessary, so you knew your team was just joking around. However, the thought of him getting excited to see you in a swimsuit let your heart skip a beat.

Spencer looked between you and the other team members before asking, “You guys won’t stop until I agree, right?”

With the sweetest tone in your voice you practically begged him, “Please, Spencer! I don’t want to go alone.”

Defeatedly, he sighed, “Fine. Let’s go to the beach.”

A quick online search for the closest beach later you were on your way to the shore with your favorite coworker. Once you arrived it only took you a couple of seconds to make a very interesting discovery. It took Spencer a little longer than that.

He placed a blanket on the sand and sat down before he looked around. A grin had already formed on your face, curious about his reaction. You took off your shirt and shorts, revealing the bikini you wore underneath. Spencer kept turning his head before locking eyes with you again.

"I think this is a nude beach," he finally realized.

When you reached back to undo your bikini top, his eyes widened and he squeaked, "What are you doing?!"

You just shrugged and said, "When in Rome."

"What?!"

"It means that you should adopt the customs of the place you are visiting," you explained the same way he usually did.

Spencer shook his head, clearly having trouble to wrap his mind around what was happening. "N.. No, I know what it means! I just meant… don't you want to leave?"

"Nope," you chirped and let your bikini top drop to the ground.

Spencer's sight followed the piece of fabric before he made the mistake of looking up again. After getting a glimpse of your breasts, he quickly averted his eyes, already feeling overwhelmed with this situation.

You didn't think he had anything to apologize for but he did it anyway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to– "

"It's okay, you can look," you laughed. "We're at a nude beach, you won't be able to avoid seeing naked people."

"I really think we should leave," he said, his eyes glued to the floor.

"You're really gonna leave me here on my own with a bunch of strangers?” You asked and added, “While I'm naked?"

"No, of course not!” Spencer protested as he found your eyes. “I want you to come with me."

"Not gonna happen. I missed the ocean too much to just leave again. Besides, we haven't gotten a day off in months."

He stared at your face with disbelief in his eyes. You emphasized your words by reaching for the waistband of your bikini bottoms, pulling them down as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Fuck!” Spencer whined as he turned away from you.

“That bad, huh? I always thought I looked alright naked,” you said while pretending to be offended.

“What? No! It’s not that, you’re very..,” he mumbled as he turned his head to look at you again, just to regret this decision instantly. “Ugh, sorry, I… I’m just uncomfortable.”

“I would be too if I was the only one wearing clothes at a nude beach,” you snickered.

You sat down beside him, studying his facial expression while he kept looking into the distance. You reached for your bikini, ready to put it back on when he still seemed uncomfortable around you.

His sight followed your hand as it grabbed the piece of fabric before he asked, “What about adopting the customs of the place you’re visiting?”

“It’s okay, we can leave.”

The initial shock of seeing you naked seemed to have worn off for now as Spencer dared to look at you again. “We can leave if you want to but I don’t want you to go just because I’m being a little… dramatic.”

A rosy shade was covering his cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was from the sun or from being embarrassed.

“I really want to stay but I also don’t want you to spend the whole time being uncomfortable,” you confessed.

Spencer smiled at you. He was sincere when he said, “I’m fine, I just needed a second to adjust. We can stay.”

You got excited to be able to finally have your beach day and chirped, “So… are you taking your clothes off now or what?”

With a dramatic sigh, Spencer asked, “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. I swear I’ll behave and only look at your penis for a second.”

“As long as you don’t laugh,” he joked.

“No promises.”

Your words made him laugh and you chimed in with your own giggles. When he finally started undressing, you understood how Spencer must have felt moments before when you took your clothes off. It was impossible for you to keep your eyes on him without having your whole face heat up.

You distracted yourself by putting on sunscreen but kept watching Spencer’s movements from the corners of your eyes. You realized that you had only seen him in button-down shirts and long pants before today and now he was sitting beside you, completely bare. You had to try really hard to not let your thoughts wander to all those impure things you often fantasized about alone at night.

When you realized that you’d be needing help with putting sunscreen on your back, your eyes fell to his hands. You couldn’t stop your mind from racing to the thought of him touching so much more of your body. With a couple of deep breaths you managed to get your composure back and handed him the bottle.

He instinctively reached for it before he realized what you were asking.

You smiled at him when you wanted to know, “Could you please put some on my back?”

“Wh..What?”

You shifted your position until you were sitting in front of him so he could reach your back. He was hesitant to do what you were asking for. After a couple of seconds you finally felt his palms tentatively moving over your shoulders and back. He was carefully spreading the sunscreen over your skin and you savored every moment of feeling his fingertips against your body. Unfortunately it was over quicker than you would have liked.

When he was done, you reached for the bottle again and offered, “I can put it on your back as well.”

Spencer shook his head, “No, I’m good. I put on sunscreen back in the hotel.”

You didn’t accept his answer and moved to kneel behind him while you said, "Please don't make me recite statistics about sunburns, that’s usually your job. There’s no way you’re able to reach own back."

Spencer considered his options for a second before telling you, “Fine, you can do it.”

You took your time putting the lotion on his shoulders and back and noticed how tense he was. He was looking into the distance when you noted, "You seem distracted,”

"I just try to keep my mind occupied."

"You really need to learn how to relax a little," you snickered and began to massage his shoulders.

To your surprise, he leaned into your touch while a sigh fell from his lips.

Curious about what was going on in his head, you wondered, "So, what is it that currently occupies your brain?"

"Baseball."

You felt like you were missing some context. Spencer wasn’t into sports, so you asked, "Why would you think about baseball?"

Spencer took a deep breath before he mumbled, "I have heard other men claiming that it helps. It's not really working though."

Suddenly you understood what he was implying.

“Ah, the disadvantages of the male anatomy,” you snickered. “Okay now I really wanna know, who is it? Who got your attention?”

Spencer seemed confused about your question, almost as if it should have been obvious to you. You tried to follow his line of sight and landed on a gorgeous young woman in front of you.

"That dark-haired woman over there has a really nice body. Is it her?" You wanted to know.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, "Please stop."

His reaction made you laugh. “Oh it’s definitely her.”

He turned his head to find your eyes. “Do you want to go into the water? Cooling off sounds like a good idea.”

Spencer got up from the blanket and reached out his hand for you.

Raising your eyebrows at him, you wondered, “I thought you hated the ocean?”

With him standing in front of you with all the glory his body had to offer, you finally dared to actually look at him. It was only when you noticed his not-so-subtle erection that you realized that the both of you desperately needed to cool down.

“That was longer than one second,” Spencer reminded you. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Sorry!” You chirped as you reached for his hand to get up as well.

Spencer didn’t let go of your hand once you were on your feet, instead he kept pulling as he basically sprinted towards the water with you just two steps behind him. You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his odd behavior. Running was already unusual for him but heading towards the ocean? That wasn’t like Spencer at all.

He didn’t let go of your hand nor stop once the cool liquid met your feet, quickly moving further into the water until it reached your neck. Your body didn’t get a chance to adjust to the temperature and you could feel how every cell of your body was on edge because of it. However, the erratic beating of your heart might have had a different cause.

Even when you could barely stand, Spencer didn’t stop.

“Spencer, you’re taller than me. I can’t go in further,” you laughed.

He turned his head to find your eyes and let go of your hand. It seemed like your words might have gotten him out of whatever spell he was under. That was until he stepped closer to you. With a smirk spreading over his cheeks he closed the distance between your bodies to wrap his arm around your waist. Before you realized what was happening, he had lifted your toes off the sandy ground of the ocean to carry you even further in.

A surprised cry fell from your lips at the sensation and you instinctively clung your arms around his neck. Spencer didn’t stop until the beach was barely visible and the water almost reached his chin. Only when he stopped moving did you realize how close the two of you were. Your body was pressed into his side, skin on skin, and your face was close enough to his cheek that you were sure he could feel your breath against it.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” You finally dared to ask.

Before he could answer, an ocean wave came up from behind you, almost knocking the both of you over. Without thinking about it, you gripped his body even tighter and wrapped your legs around his hip while he buried his fingertips into your waist. The way you clung onto him must have resembled a spider monkey. This whole situation could have been adorably cute if it hadn’t been for the fact that the two of you were completely naked.

After the wave had subsided and he seemed sure that he had you securely held against the side of his body, he finally mumbled, “I don’t like how they look at you.”

“What?”

You leaned back slightly to be able to look at him but his sight was fixated in the direction of the beach.

“The guy on the towel beside us. He looked at you and he wasn’t the only one.”

A little confused, you reminded him, “So? You were looking at that woman.”

He turned his head to lock eyes with you. “No, I wasn’t.”

You heard his words but they didn’t make any sense at all. Before you could ask what he meant, he explained, “How could I even think of another woman when I’m with you.”

“You were thinking about me?” You muttered in disbelief.

“And baseball,” he joked.

It was almost impossible to wrap your mind around what Spencer was saying. Your lips parted several times to voice your thoughts but nothing came out. It was hard to believe that he might reciprocate your feelings, never before had he even implied that he was attracted to you.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he looked at you again. “It’s not just because you’re naked. It’s because it’s you… and you’re naked.”

A few moments passed of the two of you just staring at each other. The gold of his irises was more intense than usual with the sun reflecting in them. It felt like you could drown in the comfort they provided but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his lips finally meeting yours.

There was no way to tell who leaned in first but you were both eager to deepen the kiss within seconds. When his tongue met yours the heat the sun provided was nothing compared to the warmth spreading through your chest. You shifted your position until you were in front of him, your chest pressed against his and your legs wrapped tightly around his hips. His hardness was pressed firmly against your inner thigh when you felt it twitch against you.

“God,” Spencer groaned against your lips, “I can’t believe this is happening in the middle of the ocean.”

You leaned back to look at him as you purred, “Maybe we should get back to the hotel?”

“Great idea,” he chuckled. “Let’s go.”

With a similar hurriedness as before, the two of you made your way back to the beach, drying off and putting on your clothes at record speed. When you arrived at the car, Spencer hesitated to get into the driver’s seat.

You walked towards him and offered, “Do you want me to drive?”

He shook his head and placed his hands on your hips. With more force than you had expected, he pushed you against the door of the car to kiss you feverishly. Your hand found the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to playfully pull on it.

“Spencer,” you breathed against his lips, “We’ll never make it to the hotel like this.”

“I need you right now,” he groaned. “I can’t wait.”

You pulled back to look at him. His pupils had almost completely swallowed the gold of his irises, staring at you like a man starved. There was no need to share words for you to know what he was suggesting. The van had tinted windows and it only took a few seconds to fold down the rear seats, making the trunk large enough for the two of you.

Spencer placed the blanket in the trunk to make it more comfortable (and less messy - this was a government vehicle after all) before you climbed inside to lie down beside him. His hands were on you immediately, almost ripping your shirt and shorts off as they greedily roamed over your skin. You were just as eager, your lips only ever leaving his to get rid of his clothes.

When no more fabric was covering you, he took a moment to unabashedly look at your body and coo, “You’re so beautiful. I will never get enough of seeing you like this.”

“Maybe we should go to nude beaches more often, then,” you teased him.

One of his hands snuck down your body until they met your thighs, gently spreading them while he whispered, “I’d rather have you alone.”

As his fingertips made contact with your slick folds, a moan fell from his lips. He softly kissed you while he started drawing circles around your little bud.

“You’re so wet,” he purred. “Is that all for me?”

A desperate “Yes,” fell from your lips between quiet mewls and whimpers.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he groaned when you began grinding your hips against his fingers.

“I might have a hunch, actually,” you teased him as you reached down his body.

A smirk spread over your face as your hand wrapped around his length. He felt hot and heavy in your palm as you began stroking him, his tip already leaking with desire when you brushed your thumb over it. His entire body trembled at the pleasure your touch provided, almost making him forget about his own mission to focus on you.

“Fuck!” He groaned and you accelerated the pace of your hand. “Feels so good.”

When he remembered about his hand between your legs, he continued showing his affection for you. His fingers found no resistance when they carefully began pressing into you, moving against your core until your arousal was dripping into his palm.

“Please, Spencer,” you panted against his face when the pressure became almost overwhelming.

“My sweet girl,” he cooed and slowed down the motions of his hand. “What do you need?”

Everything was somehow too much and not enough at the same time but you were certain that you might dissolve if you didn’t feel his cock inside you anytime soon.

“You. I need you, please,” you whined. “Fuck me.”

Hearing those words almost made him finish right then and there. He managed to keep his composure by gently moving your hand away from his erection. Once he was on top of you, he reached between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance. With a tilt of your hips and your legs wrapping around his body, you let him glide into you with ease.

“You feel so good,” he praised you. “So good for me.”

The intense pressure he provided made you feel light-headed. Your walls clenched around him and were answered by him twitching inside you. His lips found yours at the same time he began moving, slowly pushing into you over and over again. There was no way to tell where his body ended and yours began as you melted into one another.

When he accelerated his pace you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. Despite his weight on top of you it felt like you might begin floating at any moment now. You closed your eyes for a moment only to open them once again when Spencer slowed down.

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered.

His eyes were wide when he looked at you and muttered, “Sorry, I.. I’m so close.”

You began grinding your hips against his as you sighed, “Me, too.”

That seemed to encourage him once more, moving against you harder than before. He watched you intently as you scrunched up your face and your breath staggered, desperate to finally find relief. With one particular hard thrust you fell over the edge, a loud moan escaping your lips as your body began to tremble.

When Spencer felt your walls pulsing around him, he dared to let go himself, throbbing inside you as he shared his essence with you. When he had nothing left to give, he collapsed into your arms, his face buried into the crook of your neck. Once he had caught his breath again, he dared to separate your bodies to reach for some tissues in your bag to contain the mess of the shared evidence of your desire.

When Spencer wiped some droplets of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand you realized how hot it had gotten inside the car. Both of you were in desperate need of a shower, so you decided to go back to the hotel right away. When you were on your way back, you reached out your hand to gently brush over Spencer’s fingertips on the steering wheel.

“Thank you for coming with me today. And thanks for staying despite the surprise.”

He turned his head to smile at you and say, “I’d do just about anything for you. Besides, not all of today’s surprises were that bad.”

Smirking at him, you teased, “We should skip the beach next time, though.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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erwinsvow · 2 months

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𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: jj's made a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom at midnight.

word count: 3.5k

now spinning: radio by lana del rey

author's note: finally some jayj!! <3 writing this felt like coming home. i hope i did him justice! tags: adorably in love jj and reader. smut but make it cute (heavy grinding/petting, jj calls you princess b/c duh<3, he uses a condom bc no breeding kink here! jj sucks your tits through your (his) shirt because..yah)

JJ makes his way into the window of your bedroom, trying to be as quiet and careful as he can.

You stand back a little, trying to give him enough room to get in, but just as he swings his other leg over, he stumbles and a small succulent in a ceramic pot on your windowsill goes flying.

You freeze, scared that the thud of his leg on the window frame was enough to wake up your parents—who unfortunately share the room right next to you. JJ’s hands stick out immediately to catch the little plant, and then somehow, he juggles it into place while steadying his feet.

You let out a sigh of relief, and he places the little plant safely on your nightstand.

“That thing’s a troublemaker. It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” He whispers, already knowing from all the previous times how thin your walls are.

Time before last, he leaned back against the headboard too hard while you were riding him, and just the noise of it hitting the wall was enough to result in a knock on your bedroom door. He blames you for that one, though, and the next time your parents come in, they notice you’ve moved your bed across the room.

“This one was your fault,” you reply, unsurprisingly giddy now that your boyfriend is here.

“Nuh-uh, princess, that was all you. Why’d you leave the cactus there, huh? You tryna get me caught?”

You shake your head but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face and the quiet laugh from escaping, trying to explain that it’s not a cactus, but the words melting on your tongue. You watch as JJ carefully closes the window—he’d prefer to leave it open so he can sneak back out without much noise, but you get cold, so he pushes it down as gently as he can.

You can’t help it—you always end up staring, eyes fixated on his arms and the way they stretch and flex while he adjusts your pink curtains and makes sure no one can see inside. You don’t care if the neighbors watch. Let them, you think, JJ and I will give them a show.

He turns around to really take a look at you, mind always going a mile a minute thinking about how deep of a slumber your parents might be in, if he remembered to grab a condom (he’d forgotten it earlier in the month and you’d been so disappointed, he had to eat you out for an hour just to apologize), and then he thinks he wouldn’t be so upset if he did forget it. Finally he wonders if you have any snacks in your bedroom, which you normally don’t, but he’s feeling hungry today.

When he finally takes you in, you’re standing there with that pretty smile he loves so much, the sleep sets you used to wear every night forgone for one of his big t-shirts instead, the ones with tiny holes near the hem, one that’s probably been passed around between him, Pope, and John, but has now ended up in your closet as a permanent piece.

You told him a story a while back, about how your parents question why you never put on pajamas straight after dinner anymore, like you used to. It’s because JJ’s shirts are your pajamas now and you can’t let them see.

“Why don’t you just, y’know, change after they go to bed?” He asks after hearing that story, rubbing the small of your back under the very same shirt, wondering how smart a girl as you are didn’t think of that idea first.

You don’t answer straight away, instead pressing your face further into his chest and inhaling that scent which is so uniquely JJ—ocean and sand and that car smell since he was probably working on something before getting his favorite text of any night from you, from anyone, really—They just went to bed.

You mumble something into the skin of his sternum, unintelligible and quiet, and he has to use his other hand to move your head up.

“Sorry, princess, getting some static here. Repeat that for me?” He cups his ear to listen in, which makes you laugh.

“Just wanna feel close to you,” you repeat, even softer, immediately resting your face back on his chest once you finish.

You’re sure he doesn’t understand what you mean, because it’s deeply rooted in you, that you hate the way your parents treat JJ. They’re not so rich or Kooky to judge him for not being so, and they’re overprotective of you, always have been, but they act so differently around him. They barely give him a chance, no matter how much you affirm that you’re so happy, that you’re only that way because you’re with JJ now.

They look at the stuff that doesn’t matter—the motorcycle he rides, ignoring the pretty pink helmet he got for you sitting next to his own. They don’t know that he worries about keeping you safe, so much so that he borrows the Twinkie twice as much as he used to, because the idea of you getting hurt on his bike scares him. It scares him enough that he didn’t let you ride with him forever, that it took months of begging to even make him consider the idea.

They look at his clothes and his shoes and don’t like that they can’t invite his parents over for dinner, don’t like the idea of you going to his place but don’t like him coming over either. When they do finally grant your permission to hang out with him at your home, you have to stay in the living room the whole time, television on and playing some stupid movie you could care less about—but at least JJ’s here, at least he’s holding you.

You feel embarrassed, about the reason why you wear his shirt, about how your parents behave, about how you can’t do anything at your house but watch reruns and eat some snacks, your parents wafting in every now and then to make sure nothing’s changed.

And he tries, he really does, which makes your heart thud and causes a warm, happy tingle to extend from your ears to your toes. He shows up with flowers for the house, a bottle of wine for your parents, a bone for your dog.

He’s trying to save up for a car so your parents don’t associate him with the roar of his bike taking off and the danger he’s putting their daughter in (you almost cry when he tells you this, partly because it’s so sweet, partly because you love that bike, love everything about that bike—your pink helmet, holding onto JJ’s stomach on a ride, the way he sometimes props you up on it and tells you he’ll reward you if you’ll be good for him—which you always are.

Putting on other clothes—clothes that don’t belong to JJ—in front of your parents so they don’t feel uncomfortable at the sight of you in his shirt, is a sacrifice you refuse to make. It’s your way of rebelling, as insignificant and silly as it is, affirming that you’re not gonna cave and end your relationship because they don’t approve. It’s hard, for a people-pleaser like yourself, taking a stand against your parents. You don’t possibly expect him to understand, but you think he does that day, with the way he smothers you in kisses all night, and continues the affection on your sofa the next day, no matter who’s watching.

He snuck in that night too—pulling a pair of socks from his pocket for you.

“Got you some more clothes of mine, so you can take your little stand without it being so obvious-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because you leap into his arms to hug him so tightly, he can’t catch his breath for a minute.

That had been months ago. Since then, you and JJ spent nearly every other night together, trying as hard as possible to stay quiet and not get caught. He seems more worried about it than you do, like tonight.

“Your dad doesn’t have any firepower in the house, right? Like any bazookas or something?” he asks, walking closer to you, away from the window. You shake your head, laughing silently. It’s harder and harder not to be all smiles around JJ anymore. “Good,” he says, not as quietly as before. He brings you in for a hug, arms tight on your back, face buried in your hair. “Missed you, baby.”

You hold on with your little grip for as long as you can, finding it even harder to let go after hearing him say those words—you’d seen him earlier today, briefly, but this was his first time sneaking in since yet another scare a few days ago.

You only pull away because he does, taking off his hat and setting it on your yellow quilt. He sits down, beckoning you over, and you respond immediately, crawling into his lap like you always do. You could sit like this forever.

“It should be illegal for us to go this long without seeing each other,” he murmurs against your shoulder, before pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. His shirt hangs off of you, giving him easy access.

“I saw you this morning, silly,” you whisper, not moving, head buried into his neck.

“For like a minute,” his hands go to your hips, adjusting your position to get you more comfortable in his grip. His fingers press into the skin there, available since you were only wearing panties under his shirt, no shorts to get in the way. “Can’t do anything to you in a minute.”

“That’s not what I remember—” but before you can finish, he silences you with a kiss, soft and chaste.

“Hey,” he starts, while you begin to giggle at the memory. “I thought we weren’t gonna bring that up anymore. S’your fault, anyways.” He trails off, kissing you again. “That sundress has magic in it, or something, not normal-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, deepening the kiss, your whole face feeling hot now at the mention of the memory—the first time the two of you had done anything more than making out.

“Woah, woah,” he says, pulling away again, making you groan in frustration. “Did you lure me here under false pretenses? Are you tryna take advantage of me right now? Because I came here to cuddle-”

“Shut up, Jayj,” and you go back to finish your kiss, your hips moving by themselves. You don’t realize you’re doing it, you never do, until JJ tells you. His hands move down, grabbing the fat of your ass and squeezing while he makes you do all the work, for now, at least.

You work yourself up quickly, you always do when you’re with him, and you could finish just like this if he lets you, grinding your cunt against his hard-on, multiple layers of clothes between the two of you.

He likes to see you get worked up, so he’ll let you do it for a little bit longer, lips still attached, his tongue in your mouth. He slides his hand around where your panties rest on your hip, knotting his fingers between the fabric, his other hand resting on your hip and loosely guiding your motions.

“Feel good, baby?” he finally asks, not loud but not as quiet as before, either. You don’t care much at the moment.

“Uh-huh,” you whine, feeling yourself get closer, something in your stomach winding up tensely and making you want to increase your speed. You try, but JJ’s hand controls you, tightening up and squeezing like it’s a warning—slow down.

“Can’t make a mess like this, remember, pretty girl?” he asks but you’re only half there, half paying attention. Your eyes are squeezed shut, skin feeling so ablaze that you’re sure there’s beads of sweat lining your neck and face, hands gripping the material of JJ’s shirt while you rock yourself back and forth.

He watches carefully, eyes raking in your pretty face all twisted like this, your lips swollen and red from the biting since you can’t make any noise, your hardened nipples poking through the material of his shirt. He wants to wrap his mouth around one and play with it using his tongue, not even bothering to lift the shirt out of the way, but he refrains, since he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he does, and if you cum, he’ll cum.

“Don’t care,” you exhale, breathy and pitchy. He doesn’t even remember what you’re talking about. “I want your mess-” and your head tips forward, resting on his shoulder while he still moves you with his big hands.

It’s all of it, all at once—the fact that you haven’t been able to do much of anything, but especially this, with JJ in days, how hard he is and how good it feels to rub your pussy against him instead of your pillow, the fact that despite his shorts and your underwear in the way, you can almost feel the veins of his pretty dick, the ridge that usually has him slapping a hand over your mouth because you can’t help the noises that come out when you feel it inside you.

You’re so close—and you don’t care about the condom, about how everything’ll be sloppy and sticky after this, so you try to go even faster, until you feel the entirely too-strong hands of your boyfriend manhandling you, pulling you off and laying you flat onto the bed in one motion.

“Wha- Jayj,” you whine again, so much louder than you thought it would come out. Your heart’s thrumming in your ears, brain turned to mush and clit throbbing from the sudden lack of contact.

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna get us both killed-” and you look up at him with wet eyes and your signature pout, the one that gets you anything you want—midnight trips for ice cream, convincing him to sleep over even when he knows your parents will pop in when it’s morning, going on a ride on his bike when he’d thought it was way too dangerous. “M’giving you what you want, okay, so settle down-”

You try to be as good as you can, watching patiently while your thighs tremble and an uncomfortable, hot wetness pools between your legs. JJ pulls off his shirt, frees his dick from the constraint of his shorts, and lets out a little hiss when he sees the wet spot on his clothes from where you were just having fun.

“Dirty girl,” he says, but he’s smiling, not upset. “Made a mess already, even without me.” You let out more shaky breaths at his words, half-listening, eyes focused on the pink color of his thick cock, the way he strokes himself before putting the condom on. Your mind has turned off, every single thought except JJ leaving your head.

“Gonna be quiet this time?” he asks softly, lining himself up with your wet cunt, eyes almost rolling back into his head at the way you suck him in. You’re all tense, stomach in knots and pussy clamping just thinking about every inch he’s going to give you, the stretch he puts your tight hole through. You don’t mind much though.

“Your fault,” you mumble, in a daze. You love everything about JJ, the way his hair falls over his eyes when he’s hovering over you like this, when he licks his lip when he rakes his gaze across your body, how he smirks at you when you get like this.

He lowers his face close to yours and your eyelids flutter shut, expecting a kiss, but instead he buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking on the skin while you try to stay silent, and then he buries himself into you, all the way all at once, and you strangle a scream back so it dies in your throat.

It’s like it’s the first time, every time, with the way he feels inside, the way you’ve never really gotten accustomed to how big JJ is.

“Sure, baby, my fault,” he finally agrees, letting go of the hold his teeth have on your skin. That'll leave a bruise tomorrow, and the rush he feels from that goes straight to his dick. “This one’s my fault too.”

You don’t pay attention to his words or the stinging sensation on your neck, because the entirely overwhelming feeling of JJ inside you, slamming in and out while you’re forced to stay silent, fogs your brain. JJ hovers over you, and your hands find their way around his neck, snaking into his hair, pulling gently while he lowers himself for another kiss—hot, wet, even messier.

He keeps you this way often, so he can swallow your moans and let you be as loud as you need without much as much of a risk. Your bedroom fills with the slap of skin on skin, his hips ramming against yours.

You’d cry out because it hurts, but the way JJ fills you is anything but painful—it’s excruciatingly good, makes your toes curl while you feel that tense knot in your stomach beginning to unravel by itself, JJ hitting that sensitive part of you deep inside.

But it’s always more than that—it’s his the messy press of his fingers against your clit, the way he dips his head and takes your pert, clothed nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue, and then when he hears you getting loud, he goes back to kissing you, quieting you. He thinks about everything so you don’t have to, heading tipping back onto the pillow and squeals leaving your mouth without a second thought.

You knead your fingers into his hair, holding him in place so he doesn’t pull away from the kiss, because you know you’re about to get loud.

He does pull away—easily fighting your weak grip to bring his mouth to your neck, kissing the love-bites he already left there. You feel JJ’s hot breath on your ear, already a mess, already close, but you tip over the edge when he talks to you, as quiet as he can.

“Come on pretty girl, make a mess for me-” and you follow his instructions without another moment’s hesitation, the walls of your pussy fluttering and then clamping tight around him, moans swallowed into his mouth as he kisses you again. You writhe around, toes curling, entire body tensing, staring up at your pretty boyfriend for as long as you can before your eyes shut, mind numb from pleasure.

It doesn’t take much for JJ after that—the feel of your nails scratching his back, how your pussy clenches around him, the moans he wishes he could hear loud and clear. In a final lustful, selfish thought, he imagines you screaming under him, begging for more, not satisfied until he makes a mess inside your little cunt and fills you up. He spills into the condom seconds after, grunting into your neck and wishing the two of you were anywhere else but the bedroom next to where your parents are asleep.

The room is silent again, save for the heavy breaths leaving both of you. JJ moves first, carefully settling next to you because the bed creaks on his side. He sits up against the headboard, safe because they’re on the opposite wall now, and moves your tired, languid body into his arms, head resting against his chest.

“Well, you made a mess, alright. Hope you do your own laundry.” You giggle, hand coming up to rest above his heart, fingers tracing patterns into his soft skin.

He sighs quietly, a gentle sign he likes your touch. You could fall asleep in minutes like this, the heat from JJ keeping you warm, the content feeling in your heart making you smile dopily. JJ notices, leaning down to give you another kiss.

He stares into the distance with a hand stroking your back, under his shirt. He looks around your cute room—the overflowing bookshelf, the photos taped up on the walls (mostly of the two of you, he thinks with a touch of smugness), a pile of his shirts that are now your sleep clothes folded neatly in your hamper, freshly laundered.

JJ thinks he’d do anything to stay like this, with you resting in his arms, forever.

“I’m gonna do it, I swear,” he starts, not as quietly as before. It’s a gentle sentiment, like he’s reading you a vow. “I’ll do anything I have to, I’ll make ‘em like me. One day I’ll show up here and they’re gonna be happy to see me. I’m gonna get better.”

“You’re already perfect, Jayj,” you whisper back, eyes closed because you feel tears lining up. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything. I love you.”

He smiles again, eyes closing. He’s about to say it back when there’s a sharp knock on your door, and the handle starts to turn.

#<3 #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #i really liked writing this!!! thoughts?

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morallyinept · 25 days

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Devotion - A Dieter Bravo x Curvy/Fuller body F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Whilst on vacation with your partner Dieter Bravo, you get snapped in your bikini by paparazzi, causing you to question and evaluate your body shape when others start to pick it apart scathingly. Dieter however, shows you that you're perfect just as you are.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Curvy/Fuller body F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity. Reader has a fuller, curvier body type. Dieter is a little bigger himself in this fic too, it comes with natural ageing.)

Word Count: 8.4k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral F receiving/Dieter worships your body/angst/self-loathing/tiniest mention of being sick after eating food, but it's not an eating disorder/people being cruel jerks online/comparison of bodies/Dieter just Dietering/we love all types of bodies in this house and won't tolerate any body shaming of any kind.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The body type mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Nestled along the powdery white sands of Bora Bora's coastline, a sanctuary in an exquisite overwater villa perches atop stilts above the glistening lagoon, a retreat of luxury and tranquillity.

A private deck is greeted by sweeping views of the turquoise waters that stretch as far as the eye can see. A staircase leads down to the tranquil sea below, where one can choose to swim, snorkel, or simply float in the heady bliss of the ocean.

Entering the villa through glass-panelled doors, an atmosphere of understated elegance greets the inhabitant. The interior is adorned with natural materials, from polished hardwood floors to intricately woven rattan furnishings, creating a seamless blend of modern comfort and traditional island charm.

The bedroom, with its plush queen-size bed adorned with crisp white linens, offers a haven of serenity and comfort. A canopy draped overhead adds a touch of romance, while sliding glass doors open onto a private balcony, where champagne can be sipped under the twinkling stars.

The bathroom is a sanctuary of indulgence, featuring a deep-soaking jacuzzi tub overlooking the lagoon, where one can luxuriate in a bubble bath while watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of pink and gold.

And it’s here, in the giant whirlpool tub, where Dieter Bravo finds himself, biting into the skin of your shoulder as he fucks into you from behind.

His panting growls fill your ears as he fills you deep, fingers moulding into the soft curves of your hips as he pulls you back onto him with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby!” He hollers, as your cunt clenches around him, squealing as you come and gripping on the sides of the slippery tub for leverage.

You’re pretty sure the other guests can probably hear you in their own water villas, but you don’t care. Instead you twist in the water seeking his plush mouth as his tongue slips between your lips.

“Do that again, come on my cock.” Dieter husks, teeth biting onto your bottom lip.

He thrusts harder, wheezing at the back of his throat as bubbles and water spill over the sides of the tub. You scream louder; his awed laughter cajoling as you come again, and he soon busts a nut of his own, hollering loudly himself as he fills you up.

"Yeaaaah! Oh fuck, yeah!" He grunts, sweaty forehead lolling against yours and smiling with a blissed out face.

He lights a post-coital blunt and smirks at you as he stretches out naked in the giant bed; hair a damp, ruffled mess and a puffed out pot belly that he strokes absentmindedly, a half hour or so later. He's gloriously naked and completely unabashed about it.

In fact, he hasn't put any clothes on since being here with you; the both for you encased away inside your private villa where you can rusticate like Adam and Eve.

“I hate my feet. They look like weird hands.” He says slowly, as he wiggles his bare toes and eyes the chubby, little pinkies suspiciously.

"You have cute feet." You giggle.

"No. Yours are cute. Mine are... Hobbit feet. Look."

He nods down to his feet and you laugh. "They are a little bit. Which Hobbit are you?"

"Samwise, d'uh." He says, toking deeply.

"You look more like a Pippin to me," you grin, as you flop down beside him on the bed.

Smirking, Dieter brings his large palm down on your bare ass as you lay on your front.

He groans in delight at the playful slap rippling down your shapely thighs. The damp, sticky remains of multiple orgasms on the sheets feel gluey against your skin in patches.

“Mmm,” he grunts as you lean up to kiss him, tasting herbs and smoke around his teeth. “Hey baby,” he smiles dreamily at you with pink, twinkly eyes.

"Hey yourself," you smile, as you kiss him some more.

This is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in a while, having a sixth sense for when living in La La Land gets a bit much for him.

He gets this twitchy, deer-in-headlights look about him and starts saying things like I’ve had a headache for days, I think it’s a brain tumour, or that piece of broccoli is watching me as you regard him staring at it as he moves about the room, and launching into a paranoid diatribe when he’s mixed too many substances together and doesn’t know which way is up.

That’s when you know it’s time for a time out. Whisking him away to a private sanctuary where he can detox, kinda, and eat some damn broccoli without trying to fight and chokeslam it.

Where he can indulge in some freaky sex with you, and the cute waiter who brought him a double, when he only asked for a single, and the next thing his cock is in his mouth and your fingers are in his ass as the three of you paint the room in bodily fluids.

It’s a much needed retreat for you both, adopting the mutually agreed upon rule of no phones or internet as you truly switch off and lock your devices away in the room safe, as you spend time fawning over the intimate fronds of your deepening relationship with A-lister Dieter Bravo.

Once a washed up has-been floundering in the gross LA gutter, now a three-time Emmy winner and on his way to the Oscars. Yet despite the three-sixty turn around in his career through some clever reshuffling of his publicists and agents, he still retains that firecracker ability to go off the rails on occasion, despite cleaning up his act somewhat.

You’ve been credited as the main reason for this transformation, a positive impact; a grounding force in an otherwise chaotic timebomb. The rarely seen lover, opting out of the spotlight through your own choice, and Dieter’s support of it.

Although he’s name dropped you in a few interviews when asked about his infectious happiness, snapped numerous selfies of you both loved up and nuzzling on his Instagram, and on occasion you’ll hang off his arm at an event in a dress that costs more than your first mortgage.

But for the most part, you do your own thing, happy to let him do his, and come back to the home you’ve both been curating together.

You met just like in a trashy Hallmark romance, standing in line to get a green juice in a trendy cafe in downtown LA, and it was love at first wow, as he swooned at you over the tip of his Raybans and grinned crookedly at you, gold earring sparkling like those mischievous eyes.

You’ve been hooked on this lewd rapscallion, with a heart of gold, ever since.

You had no idea who he was or what he did, and for a while, he kept it a secret; fearing that if you knew about his fame and bawdy past shenanigans, you’d disappear in a puff of judgemental smoke.

But you didn’t, instead supporting him and drawing a line between the fame and the reality, and became an anchor when he needed one to stop him floating too far adrift.

Dieter has never said the L word before, but when he did with you, around a mouthful of grilled cheese as you both sat in the dark watching Humphrey Bogart movies, (often Sabrina - it's his favourite) something told you this fuzzy-haired doof meant it.

He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing and pawing at your voluptuous curves. Burying his face in your breasts that suffocate him, and an ass that won’t quit when he fucks it and watches it ripple.

He’s always been fantastically open about how much he loves your body.

Your weight fluctuates at the best of times, growing when you’re comfy, and you’ve never felt more comfortable than with Dieter. He paints you when you’re asleep, waking to find another portrait of flesh coloured brush strokes on another canvas that’s added to the collection of worship pieces he creates.

Anyone would think he was obsessed with you, but you don’t mind the attention he lavishes, especially when he pours paint over your breasts and gets you to smoosh them into the canvas board whilst he fucks you from behind.

He’s insatiable for you, and for once you feel like you can be yourself around him, truly. Comfortable to be naked and bare with him in your skin.

You’ve spent years with your thoughts drifting inward, grappling with the complexities of your body. A regular love-hate relationship, which leans more towards the hate more often than not.

It’s no secret that you’re larger and more curvaceous than the slender figures typically celebrated by society, and the usual, skinny types that had draped off of Dieter’s arm in the past.

Your body, adorned with generous amounts of curves, dimples and soft contours, bear the marks of a life well-lived and enjoying the over-indulgence of it at times.

But sometimes, you feel a pang of insecurity flood through you; your eyes drawn to the lithe forms that grace the glossy pages of fashion magazines.

Feeling itchy inside your epidermis at the actors that flock around you both at the after parties in their tight dresses that look like a second skin, and the endless scroll of social media feeds perpetuating the allusion, that to be beautiful, you must be thin.

You feel like the “fat woman” when surrounded by slender, flat-tummied make-up artists and stylists who flood your home when Dieter has an event to prepare for. In a world that seems to worship perfection, you can't help but wonder if your own body falls short of the unattainable ideal at times.

But Dieter doesn’t see it that way.

He's continuously lavishing you with affection and love, and unable to keep his big hands off you from day one. You’ve been with him long enough now to know he’s serious about you, respectful of your choices to remain out of the spotlight and trusting that you’re not just a novelty to him.

He’s changed because of you; cleaned himself up and become a better man, and that only imbues the sense of worship he gives to you daily.

As you gaze into Dieter's glassy eyes, you find yourself bathed in a warmth that transcends the superficial constraints of beauty standards. In his unwavering stare you see not judgement, but genuine admiration - a reflection of the love and acceptance that he has for you, curves and all.

He makes you feel invincible when he looks at you like this. But sometimes, it's hard not to let the insecurities seep in.

This vacation has been relaxing, enjoying one another in the privacy of the water villa, but Dieter’s attention span can only survive in enclosed walls for so long, and soon he’s itching to get out and explore.

He suggests the nearby market for lunch and the beach, and you agree, pulling on a suitable dress over your bikini, and rolling up his yoga mat to shove into your beach bag.

You stroll hand-in-hand through the market, packed with tourists and locals. He stops at stalls to admire handmade crafts through his giant, dark Raybans, and purchases cheap beaded bracelets that he adds to the collection on his wrist, and rambles at you in great detail about the craftsmanship of them.

You stop for refreshing guava and pineapple smoothies from stall vendors, pose for selfies by a tropical flower bush as he picks one and places it behind your ear, and after a mouthwatering shellfish lunch, you end the afternoon lazing on the beach together.

He gets a little handsy when he rubs sun lotion onto your skin, fingers slipping under your bikini top discreetly to tug at your puffy nipples as he sucks the oily skin on your neck.

"D..." You whine, as he pulls them in his between his fingers and whispers in your ear how fucking hot you are. You shoo him away, grinning, as he heads into the water for a swim, and you lay back to bake in the sun with your book.

You lick your lips a little while later as he emerges from the water; pale lilac swim shorts clinging to his thick thighs, unruly greying fluff slicked back. Sea water drips from his chin down his chest, that puffs out into a little swollen tummy of his own with a slot machine belly button. Dark hairs disappear into his shorts as he pulls them up, strolling out of the waves.

Dieter’s ageing in the most beautiful way possible, broad too in every sense of the word as the sun blesses him with a gorgeous bronze tan, and he catches you staring like a drooling chimp as he heads back towards you.

He flashes you those enigmatic teeth as he approaches, sand clumped around his ankles.

“See something you like?” He grunts, as he bends down to kiss you, hooked nose all wet and dripping salt water onto your lips.

“Maybe,” you say, his crotch almost in your face as he stands.

He's already pitching a tent in them as he smiles down at you with a razor-like grin.

“Did you know a sea cucumber ejects its intestines out in self-defense? It looks like a sea dick squirting all over the place. And there's lots of it, too.”

You laugh. “Did you see a sea cucumber in the water just now?”

“No. I just remembered seeing it on Nat Geo. Fascinating.”

“You’re so random, D.” You titter, dropping your book down.

"You love it." He says, wiping at his face with the towel.

"I do."

“You know-" he sits behind you on the lounger and pulls you back against his wet chest, “-there’s nothing stopping us from fucking right here. I could easily slip my cock into you right now.”

“D, the beach is full of people.” But you groan at the thought of it.

“Yeah, but the danger, the anticipation. It’d be hot, no?” He whispers, fingers dipping into the waistband of your bikini bottoms. “Just fucking you in front of all these people and they’d never know. You'd have to be really quiet, baby...”

“Dieter!” You hiss, bringing your legs up to stop him going any further.

“Alright,” he chuckles in your ear, running his fuzzy chin against your face.

"Is that a sea cucumber in your shorts or are you just pleased to see me?" You remark at the hard bulge poking at your lower back.

Dieter chuckles, all waspy inside your ear. “I'm still hungry. Let’s go back to the villa and you can sit on my face for a while.”

The vacation comes to an end after another week of fucking all over the water villa, and you both find yourselves on the flight back to civilisation, somewhat more exhausted than when you'd set off.

You turn on your mobile when taxiing towards the terminal, back on American soil, and listen to the pings as your phone catches up with life.

You scroll through emails as Dieter quietly snores beside you, mouth open and catching flies.

Smirking, you scroll through social media and stop, immediately feeling sick when you open a message from your friend titled have you seen this?

There’s a screenshot of you on the beach in your bikini from a pap site, something that doesn't surprise you much at all - it’s bound to happen now and again when you’re spotted with Dieter, despite booking somewhere off radar.

Renegade photos of the two of you end up on the socials all the time, and you pay them no mind, choosing to abstain from looking them up.

But what you don’t expect to see is the vitriol in the comments underneath the picture, from none other than Dieter’s fans.

You read the words fat and beached whale and pity fuck, standing out like they’re flashing red neon at you.

Swallowing as your throat runs dry, it gets worse the further you scroll. They make fun of your body, make remarks about your face, your hair, sense of fashion, even your ankles of all things.

Who is offended by someone’s fucking ankles, for Christ’s sake?

Every part of you is pulled apart scathingly in deep conversations that go on and on, blurring out the compliments that say you’re a cute couple by the ones that say things like she carries it well.

Carries what well?

You’re pulled in, instantly scrolling to Dieter's own Instagram page and clicking on the most recent picture he took of you both as you watched the sunset on your last night in Bora Bora.

You have the flower in your hair that he picked and put behind your ear, and told you how gorgeous you were as he snapped the selfie, his lips pressing into your cheek. Under the photo he wrote the caption my heart.

Comparing how his belly in his swim shorts looks gorgeous and sexy and how complete strangers want to lick it, whereas your tummy in your bikini is branded hideous and disgusting.

It’s liked by over five million people, and you grimace when you realise there are also thousands of comments talking about your looks there too.

How your shoulders are much broader than his, your thighs the size of tree trunks. How you must crush him when you fuck.

Who's the whale next to Dieter?

They speculate that you’re pregnant. Some of them are calling you a cunt or a bitch because you’re carrying his fictitious baby.

The unjustified hate just keeps coming and coming.

Can't believe he's with someone so fat.

She’s so gross.

She’s disgusting.

He's fucking her for a joke.

Dude must be high AF to fuck that each night.

I've seen glory holes better looking than her face.

He deserves better.

It’s a staged relationship. No way he’d look twice at her.

You thought you looked pretty in your dress. You were wrong, babe.

You feel like you’re going to throw up and nudge him awake.

“D,” you groan.

“Mm,” he mutters.

“Dieter! Wake up!”

“Wha-what?” He jolts as he comes to, wiping his mouth free of drool. “Have we landed? Oh, we're here. What time is it? Fuck, my neck. I think I've dislocated my shoulder sleeping in this damn seat. Why'd you let me sleep for so long?”

His bleary eyes look around the cabin as he sits upright in his seat with wild, fuzzy hair. He turns to you and baulks.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He sees you crying silently into your hands. “Hey, what happened?” He reaches for your hands, but instead you toss the phone at him.

Confused, he takes it and smiles at the selfie of you both together. “What, you don’t like it? I think you look really gor-”

“Read the comments,” you all but choke out to him.

As he scrolls through the comments, his jaw clenches in anger; his grip on the phone tightening with each cruel word. You see his nostrils flare as he breathes in and clicks the phone screen off.

“Babe,” he shakes his head. “Fuck that shit, man. Ignore it. Bitches be cray and all.”

“That’s easy for you to say, they fucking love you!” You shake your head and scramble up past him, heading for the door as the other passengers begin to disembark.

"I'll get the luggage then..." He huffs to himself.

Despite Dieter’s reassurances, the words have already taken root in your mind, poisoning your thoughts with doubt and reuniting you with that old, reliable friend, self-loathing.

In the days that follow, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a depressive spiral, unable to escape the relentless barrage of negativity that haunts your every waking moment.

It consumes you. Strangers, people you’ve never met and don’t know or what they look like, get into your head. You suddenly realise the power that words have.

They have jagged edges that cut into your skin and leave you bleeding, dying.

They cause your head to ache profusely and your nose to become blocked, and your eyes to itch from crying so much. You’re suddenly paranoid, of everything, everyone that looks at you. Second guessing all the time, wondering what they think when they look you over.

You withdraw from the world, retreating into the darkness of your own mind, where the echoes of cruel words reverberate back and forth like a never-ending chorus of condemnation.

No amount of love or support from Dieter can penetrate the thick fog of despair that envelopes you, leaving you feeling utterly alone and miserable.

You cancel pre-planned events, leaving Dieter to go alone, whilst you curl up under the duvet and don’t surface for days, and you realise that ignorance really was bliss.

You find yourself standing in front of the mirror naked when you finally brave yourself to have a shower, and are disgusted at what you see.

Highlighted before the glass, your reflection is a cruel mockery of the beauty you once believed you possessed. The soft glow of the vanity lights illuminate every curve and contour of your body, each line a stark reminder of your perceived inadequacy.

Your gaze lingers on your reflection, tracing the lumpy ridges of your hips and the soft swell of your hanging stomach, the fullness of your thighs and the rounded shape of your ass, with a mixture of disdain and disgust.

You grab handfuls of your flesh, rolling it in your grip, shaking your head as your eyes fill with water.

Looking away, you cover yourself up with baggy clothes that aren’t flattering. You put on Dieter's green robe over the top and belt it up and climb back into bed, sobbing.

How can he possibly find me attractive? Is he part of it? Am I really just a pity fuck?

The invasive thoughts begin to chip away at the solid foundations you thought you had. Crumbling them into doubt and paranoia.

Their words haunt you, spin around your eyesight for days until you're back torturing yourself and scrolling back through them all. You shut everything out except their words - you just exist in this tormented space in the bed - refusing to entertain anyone, including Dieter - with your phone doom scrolling, and nothing but self-loathing and misery.

It lasts on a repetitive cycle for days.

You try not to eat, taking to self-punishment and abstinance, but then that only makes it worse because you inevitably get hungry and order take-out. Far too much take-out.

And then once you've eaten it all, a small comfort that is fleeting, you force yourself sick, feeling guilty and even more wretched for enjoying the food that you love.

Until Dieter’s had enough of it all.

He throws everyone out of the house on the eve before Oscar’s night, refusing to partake in any more fittings whilst he knows you’re upstairs hiding from him and hurting.

Forehead pulling into tight wrinkles with guilt, Dieter stares at the dress the stylist has brought over that he knows you’ll look incredible in.

You were so excited when you first tried it on, and now he can’t help but feel as though he’s had some part in this; coaxing you to try and be someone you’re not just for the sake of the glitz and solid bronze statues plated in 24 karat gold.

But he can't help it, he wants to share this side of him with you. Wants you to be proud of him and to show you off, because you make him so equivocally happy. And for a long time, Dieter wasn't happy. Just floundering and trying to shape himself so he could fit into their moulds too.

He said he'd keep you separate from his world if that's what you wanted, and for the most part you did, and now he wonders if it's because of this - this pressure that society puts on people in the spotlight to maintain perfection.

And he can't help but wonder if he's put that pressure on you too in some ways.

It’s like cleaning out wounds with dirty fingers, festering and making it worse the longer you're hurting and allowing them to hurt you. And now, he trudges up the stairs, woolly socks making static on the carpet, with the dress dangling from the hanger over his broad shoulder.

He misses you. Misses your smile, your smell, your warmth. Your body wrapped around his. It's not fun watching movies by himself, sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms without you.

He's given you space, but he needs you. Needs you to see how fucking beautiful you are to him. And needs you to know he's not giving up on you, not now and not ever.

“I’m not going.” You grumble with a huff.

Knuckles rap on the bedroom door and push it open gently when you grunt at him to go away.

You watch him, with puffy eyes, as he hangs the dress bag over the closet door.

You shake your head vehemently.

“You don't have to. But... you promised me.” Dieter says, as he kicks at the foot of the bed gently.

His zig-zag sweater is knitted and bobbly on the arms when he crosses them over his chest. Triad tattoos inked into his skin peep out at you under rolled up sleeves.

“You wanna see it?” He offers. "Might make you feel good to try it on again?"

“No. I’m not wearing it. I’m not going and that’s that.”

Dieter kneels on the bed slowly crawling up towards you. “It’s my night, baby, and I want you there by my side.”

You sigh. “I can’t,” you whimper, trying not to look at him.

“Yes, you can. You know you can.”

Tears fall from your eyes making warm tracks on your cheeks.

“No, I don’t.” You say, sniffing.

“I love you.” Dieter says, reaching your face and sitting over your thighs.

His thumbs catch the tears and he kisses your face. “I fucking love you. You’re so beautiful and sexy. God, you're so fucking sexy. You make me so hard.”

He takes your hand and puts it over his cock that’s indeed rock solid in his shorts.

“Yes you do, see? Even when you're crying and wearing my shitty gown. You’ve always been so fucking sexy to me.”

A renegade smile tries to break free at the corner of your lips as he starts smashing down your walls with a sledgehammer. And his aim is pretty on point.

"When was the last time you washed this? It stinks," you say, looking down at the stained softness of his gown draped over you. You don't even want to know the origin of some of them.

“That’s it, there you are.” He encourages.

“You really think I’m sexy?” You whimper. “All this?” You say, confused as you point to your stomach.

“I love your body, babe. Every. Inch. Of. It.” He punctuates each word with a kiss over your face; on your nose, your forehead, your chin.

“Why? You could have anyone...”

“I don’t want anyone. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with you. Hook. Line. And fucking sinker.”

“Dieter-” You choke and snivel.

He wraps you up in his arms. “Let me show you, baby.”

He unbelts his gown that you’re wearing, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently. Your fingers tangle in his hair, silky greying fluff, as he swirls his tongue around inside your mouth.

"You taste like flaming hot Cheetos." You smirk around his lips.

"I may have eaten three king-size bags. My ass and the toilet will hate me later."

"Is that all you've eaten?"

"Well, yeah. That and microwave oven pizzas... I'm kinda floundering without you. It really is selfish of you to not come downstairs and cook for me. Baby, I'm wasting away." He pats his little belly for emphasis.

You laugh, a deep and haughty chuckle, and he smiles at that.

"You're such a doof."

"Yeah, but I'm your doof." Dieter says as he kisses you, sighing into your mouth as his shoulders sag.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lips.

“I love your lips,” he says, licking over them and nipping them between his teeth. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck. Love it when they wrap around my cock too,” he hums.

You chuckle through wet eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah baby, I love how you look when you suck my cock. So fucking hot.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a fucking Goddess!” He chirps enthusiastically, and you can see that he really means it. "Better than Aphrodite, Dionysus... that-that pale chick riding in the clam-"

"Venus." You hiccup through a smile.

"Yeah. They haven't got shit on you, babe."

"Dieter," you stutter as he nuzzles into your face. He slathers wet kisses down your neck as you groan.

“I love these tits… fuck,” he groans as he squeezes them in his hands, sucking on the nipples as he pushes your t-shirt up.

“Mmm, D…” you whine as he flicks his tongue back and forth over them, until they become hardened pebbles in his mouth making you shudder and clench.

"Fucking perfect tits." He grunts. He kisses and licks down the deep valley of your breasts, smooching over your sternum.

“I love this belly,” Dieter says, with more kissing, licking and stopping to blow a loud raspberry into your belly button.

You cackle as he strokes and tickles your hips.

“Dieter!” You howl as he tickles harder.

“See, stunning!” He laughs, watching you cackle and squirm as you try to bat him off.

“Stop it!” You howl. "I'm gonna pee!"

“I love these little lines here,” he says, as he runs his tongue over the crinkled stretch marks around your lower tummy.

He kisses further down into the swell of your thighs, pulling your leggings down as he goes, revealing more skin for him to lavish.

"I love this freckle right here, and this one here, and this little guy over here… But this one’s my favourite, right here. Hi cutie,” he smiles as he kisses it.

You giggle like an idiot as he kisses over each freckle, mole and dimple in and around your thighs.

“And I fucking love this pussy,” Dieter groans as he runs his tongue up the slit of you over your panties.

You watch as he hooks his fingers into the elastic and pulls them down, with darkening eyes smouldering up at you from between your legs.

His tongue runs on the skin outside your pussy lips, so close to your clit. He trails a hot, wet lap around and leaves you panting, begging. “Please, please…”

"What do you want, baby? You want me to kiss it?" He smirks as you nod, head all slack and mesmerised.

He spreads your lips and licks his tongue slowly up your slit, making you shudder as he swirls it around the bump of your buzzing nub.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, reaching down to adjust himself. “I could just fucking come from eating you out,” his voice is muffled by doing just that.

Your head keens back into the pillows and you groan. Your fingers rummage inside his hair, twisting and pulling, as he laps you up.

He doesn’t shy away, nestling himself between your thighs so he can lavish you with deserved attention as he kisses all over your pussy.

Running his adept and hungry tongue back and forth over your clit before sucking it into his mouth and making those thighs quake and jerk around his face.

“D… Let me touch you.” You whine.

“There'll be plenty of time for that later, right now I’m happy just here. Right here..." He licks again, a long fat stripe up your seam, and you pant. "I want you to come all over my face, beautiful.” Dieter urges, rutting his hips into the mattress.

As the tension mounts within, you can feel every nerve in your body standing on edge, like a tightly coiled spring ready to burst. And then, in a moment of pure abandon, it happens. A wave of pleasure crashing over you; a surge of unfurling sensations that seem to consume you whole as you tumble through them.

He rubs over your clit, tickling it with the increasing pressure and speed from the pad of his thumb as he slips his tongue inside your hole and drinks you down. He hums around you, licking and sucking as he entices your body to just bend to his mouth.

And you do.

"Dieter! Fuck!"

Like a firework exploding in the night sky, a burst of light and colour leaves you breathless and exhilarated as he continues to lick and suck you through your orgasm.

You're a writing mess, groaning as you fill his mouth with more of your slick and clenching around his tongue as he fucks your contracting hole with it. As your body convulses with the force of your release, your thighs crushing further against his head, you feel a profound sense of relief wash over you, like a swampy weight lifting from your shoulders.

Bathed in a moment of pure ecstasy amongst the dread that’s consumed you; a fleeting glimpse into the freedom from it all.

"Fucking love this pussy," he mouths.

“Shit... I need you, D.” You gasp, your body buzzing for him.

You pull him out of his cargo shorts, hard and swollen in your palm. Just barely stroking across his soaked frenulum as he groans like he's been choked. The slick of his own drippings covering your fingers as you jerk him desperately.

“Fuck!” Dieter muffles into your mouth as you crush him in a kiss; teeth clashing with clumsiness at your haste to have him and cupping his balls.

You can taste yourself all over his furry lips and chin as he guides his swollen, weeping head inside your gorgeous cunt.

“Dieter!” You groan as he fucks into you, large hands roaming all over your body, squeezing, massaging.

“So fucking beautiful, baby.” He pants, burying his head into the ample swell of your breasts.

Your tits bounce wildly around his face with every thrust of his pelvis against yours, and he just whines and groans inside his happy place as he sucks on your nipples with eyes that stare up at you.

But it’s the love shining so deeply in his watery eyes that truly moves you - a love so profound, it seems to shimmer with unshed tears, reflecting the depth of his emotion.

“God, I fucking love your body, baby.” His words penetrate the barriers you’ve built around yourself, slowly chipping away at the walls of self-doubt and insecurity that has held you captive in a cage for days.

"I love you!" He gasps into your mouth.

As you look into his earnest eyes, you see no sympathy or pity, but genuine affection and admiration. You see a man that genuinely believes you’re beautiful.

A man that can’t get enough of your curves, and welted and dimpled thighs. Your stretch marks and tummy rolls. A man who’s not afraid to put his hands on you, who wants to show you off to the world and declare “she’s mine” at the top of his grizzled voice proudly.

You see a man who also has body hang ups of his own when he stares at himself in the mirror after hours of being preened and gussied up like a peacock for the world’s cameras.

Wrinkling his aquiline nose at his slick appearance, when all he wants to do is laze about in a grubby, green gown and broken crocs, smoke a bowl and eat bags of flaming hot Cheetos with you, whilst nestled in the comfy, safe place in your arms and cleavage where he feels most like himself.

He twists, so one of your legs is still hooked over him, his hand on your ass as he pushes into you as you lay on your sides facing each other.

And you wouldn’t have him any other way.

It’s a revelation - the realisation that you’re deserving of love and acceptance, just as he is.

His hands run all over your body, sliding up your back and fingers gliding down your chest delicately. He guides his cock back in, holding you in his other arm tight and kissing you.

Dieter whines into your face as he slips in, his eyes searching yours out to convey in unspoken words how good you feel squeezing around him.

You let your hips languidly bounce as he flexes his; both of you enjoying that heady rhythm without rush or eagerness to finish in a hurry.

“Mmm. Oh fuck, right there… oh fuck, fuck. This pussy, baby, you feel so good.” Dieter groans, eyes rolling back. “Amazing, amazing...” He babbles.

“Tell me,” you pant. “Tell me what’s amazing, D.”

“You. You’re amazing. Fuck I want you every which way. I-I want to fuck your ass again. Wanna have you in my mouth, swallow you all up.”

“Eat the world.” You grin.

“Yeah, eat the world.” He smiles. “My world. You’re my fucking world, baby.”

“Fuck, I love how you grip me so tight, baby.” He wheezes, fists punched into the pillow either side of your head as his hips do all the work.

A subtle roll and he’s on top of you again. Knees knocking your thighs open wider and sinking his cock into you deeper.

He kisses you as he slides in, filling you up with his love as you whimper into his mouth in sweet relief.

“Come on, Dieter, give me your cock. Like that, fuck yeah, like that.” You pull on his broad arms, legs wrapping around his chunky waist as his stomach slaps against yours.

Deep smacks of skin fill your ears as he fucks you harder. He wheezes as he breathes, panting into your face.

“Like this? Yeah?” He fucks you faster, drilling in quick, deep shunts; the headboard clattering against the wall loudly. "God!" He grunts deeply. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna come, baby!"

He’s weak for you. You can see it in his eyes, the vulnerability around the blown out glass of them as he comes and bites down on his lip through a laboured grunt. Spilling warm and thick inside of you, and you feel it pool and dribble out once he softens.

“Give it to me, give it to me. Give me all your come, Dieter!” You cry as you burst again - gold bokeh filling your eyes as the heat floods through your body.

Your spine twists, your back arching. Toes curling and ears ringing as you come around him.

“Baby!” He yells as he momentarily stiffens and strains before exploding inside of you.

He stays plugged in for a while, pelting your breasts with unrelenting kisses as he rubs his nose against your nipple, tasting the salt of your sweat on his tongue. Eventually finding your lips once more as he holds your head in his giant hands.

“How do you do that, D?” You ask breathlessly, afterwards.

“Do what?” He lays beside you, pants slowly dying down and nose nuzzling against your own.

“Make me feel so good?” You peep, timidly.

“The same way you make me feel so good." He hums out as you watch his eyes close, dark, fluttery eyelashes fanning out. "I’d probably still be in the gutter if it weren’t for you loving me.” He says quietly.

“Do you really believe that?”

He nods, his greying hair ruffling against the pillow. “Yeah. I do. You saved me, baby.” He says, with deep chocolate eyes lanced on you. “My brain scrambles when I'm with you, but in a good way.”

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Then maybe you’d believe it.” His eyes soften at you, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. "I just want you to know how beautiful you are to me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never want to make you feel like you're anything less than perfect, because to me, you are. And I know I'm a bit much sometimes... but I really do love you.”

You don't try to unpick the sweetly soft truth that pours out of him in sincere revelations, you just listen with a smile spreading across your lips.

“I love you, D. You and your scrambly brain always make me feel beautiful.”

“From the first day I met you, I’ve always thought so.” He smiles, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip. "And I'm never wrong." He grins.

A wider smile escapes you as you lean in closer, your forehead resting against his, damp with sweat.

“I’m not gonna force you, baby, but please come with me tomorrow night.” He implores with soft eyes. “You’re gonna look so beautiful and I really want you there with me. We'll have a great time, you and me.”

Your response is hesitant, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his pudgy hip as you struggle to find words. Unable to speak, like rust clogging in your throat as your mind recalls all the nasty slurs said about you online and the panic prickles again.

You want nothing more than to carry out stringent ablutions, cleanse yourself of the tarnish they’ve left inked under the layers of your skin with all the other jibes and taunts you’ve heard throughout your life.

It's hard not to let your body physically define you when physicality is so superficial in this world. There isn't anything that anyone has said that you haven't heard before, or said to yourself in your moments of dark masochism.

You've seen all the looks people give you, like you're an exhibit in a museum to be gawked at. Heard all the whispers and mean girl things that ultimately mean girls say in earshot.

You've spent years planning routes around rooms as you step in, avoiding scenarios where you'll have to squeeze yourself through tiny gaps or past people.

Accepting the fact that the dress you really like in the shop window won't be in your size. Slicking your thighs in layers of anti-chafe balm in advance when your friends want to go for a walk and you struggle to keep up.

And words cut deep.

You try to tell yourself it's jealousy. You try to tell yourself that they’re not real. Faceless drones sitting behind a screen with nothing better to do than tear you down, because you ultimately have what they want.

They want him, Dieter. But you have him.

A woman who is so far removed from themselves in terms of looks, that it's hard for them to comprehend and accept that he could genuinely want you and love you, and get turned on by you.

You breathe in slowly, trying to push down all the negative thoughts that try to worm their way back in.

And sometimes, it's hard for you to accept too.

But then he does things like this, makes you believe and accept it, because his love for you is real. It's so fucking real that it guts you. It's all you've ever wanted, someone to see you.

Will I have to suck in my belly? Will people see me doing that? Is the dress going to cling onto my stomach and thighs too much? What if my dress tears? What if I fall? What if I embarrass him?

But then you look in his eyes keening back at you, and he has this power to get inside your head and sweep them all away again into a dark corner.

“I promise you, you won't be alone. I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way." Dieter reassures.

Your eyes soften at his words, a glimmer of hope shining through the murky uncertainty. "But what if-"

"No 'buts', candy and nuts," Dieter interjects, headbutting you gently. "You’re stunning, babe. Inside and out. And I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that."

“The rest of your life, huh?” You smile.

“Yeah. If you can tolerate me for that long.” He snickers, eye creases crinkling.

“That’s a pretty big if.” You smirk.

“The biggest.” Dieter smiles, his big browns pleading silently and soft at you, and melting you further in the process.

You nod, smiling. “Okay. I'll go.”

“Amazing.” He croons with a satisfied yawn. “We got any KitKats left?”

“In the kitchen, I think. I’ll get you one.” You smile.

“Rockstar.” He mumbles, nuzzling further into the pillow.

You catch sight of him over your shoulder, his bare, round ass naked and furry as he adjusts and gets comfortable on the bed.

You pad down to the kitchen, not bothering to dress, and catch sight of your reflection in the dark pane of the window.

A wobbly silhouette at first glance, but as you look closer, you can see the sheen of sweat gleaming on your skin, the warmth that coats it from the afterglow of Dieter’s touch.

Your gaze lingers on your shapely form, but instead of scrutinising the perceived flaws, you find yourself noticing the things you’ve overlooked - the gentle curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the fact that you’re here, naked and comfortable to wander freely around the house again, whereas only a few hours ago you were wrapped up and hiding.

As you regard your reflection, something is different. The harsh judgement and self-doubt that has plagued you tirelessly has been replaced by a newfound, creeping sense of acceptance and appreciation.

A small glimmer, but it's still there nonetheless.

You turn, admiring your shape with a small smile lighting you up at what you see.

In this moment, you realise that you’re beautiful like he says - not just because of your physical appearance, but because of the love Dieter has for you that makes you see past any self-loathing.

His unwavering affection lifts you up when you sink, helping you to see yourself in a new light, as a woman worthy of love and admiration.

You come back into the bedroom and toss the KitKat on the dresser when you see Dieter snoring gently.

Your leg hooks over his puffy middle as you listen to his heartbeat. The soft thrum-thrum emanating in the pit of his chest soothes away any worries or fears.

You feel his thick fingers twitch against your skin, a silent snuffle as he breathes laboriously, lost in sleep.

Dieter Bravo sees you and loves you for who you are, so maybe, just maybe, you should try to love yourself, too.

It's the last conscious thought you have before you fall asleep with him.

“Does my pocket look okay? It looks weird, it’s doing shifty things. I don't trust it.” Dieter asks, as he looks in the mirror and fiddles with the silk handkerchief poking out the top of it.

You can feel the nerves radiating off of him in droves. His fingers twitch, rings clacking against every surface he passes. Lips gnawed on until they’re scarlet, despite the make-up artist slicking them with balm tirelessly.

“Your rebellious pocket looks fine.” You say, as you step fully into the room.

“Oh wow! Baby. Fuck, look at you!” Dieter turns, his whole face lighting up. “You look so good in this colour.”

“Yeah?” You ask, smoothing down the dress that fits you like a dream.

It hides a multitude of sins in your opinion, as you turn this way and that in the mirror - you’re satisfied with how you look.

“Yeah, your eyes really pop, wow!” He comes over to you, all perfectly coiffed curls blown out, and crushed velvet sleeves embracing you. “Fuck…” He says, eyeing you up and down.

He makes no effort to hide it when he adjusts himself in his pants so brazenly.

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, Mr Oscar Nominee.” You smirk, eyeing how good he looks in his suit.

A crisp shirt is open at the neck revealing an abundance of golden skin you long to lick and taste. He channels Adam Ant with the eighties romance of it all; lace sleeves hanging low and unruly from his jacket cuffs, matching velour Gucci loafers on with no socks, and wearing fitted pants that finish above the ankle.

“I’m so fucking nervous.” Dieter murmurs to you, quietly in the car on the way there. He rubs at his sternum with a large palm and keeps it there. "I need an antacid. And possibly a shit." He mumbles, belching quietly into his fist. "Fuck. I should've taken a shit before we left."

You giggle. “You'll be alright. Just breathe.” You reassure him, ghosting your nose over his. "I've got you, D."

“I’ve got you too, baby.” He promises, squeezing your hand and smiling at you. "God, you look so beautiful."

The cameras are flashing in your retinas as you walk the red carpet with him. The dress dazzles back, accentuating your curves and features, and looking at yourself once more in the mirror before you left, you were awash with awe at how good it actually made you feel.

He leans in for a kiss, but belches again in your face, and you chuckle as he laughs, embarrassed. "Sorry, sorry."

"At least your breath doesn't smell like Cheetos."

"No, but my sweat does." He chuckles, then turns to you. "Please, for the love of God, don't let me shit my pants."

You remember that feeling, coming back to you slowly as you stand tall and proud beside your silly man, who won't stop discreetly belching in the back of his throat like a toad where he's so nervous.

Where did that other woman go? She was lost for a while, pulled into the mud, but she kept moving, getting herself out of it once again. She has strength after all. They won’t drag you under.

Dieter is in awe of you too as you hold onto his hand, fingers interlocked with yours tightly, with his other on his chest holding in his anxiety - and nervous burps - whilst you smile beside him and support him on his big night.

You hold each other up with words unsaid. Pillars of strength when the other one needs it. With him by your side, looking at you the way he is now, you’ve never felt more beautiful and loved in your own skin.

The paps call you to look this way, gorgeous, as they snap your picture with him whilst you pose, growing more confident as Dieter holds you close, beaming at you.

The interviewers want to know all about your dress and compliment you beside him as he talks about his film, and then forgets about it entirely and starts talking about you instead with starry eyes, when he loses his train of thought.

Interviews pop up online of Dieter just dumbstruck at you standing next to him, peppered with heart-eye emoji's and the comments flood in under the photos and reels.

Look at how he looks at her!

They make such a cute couple.

She looks so beautiful in that dress.

Aww, he really loves her!

I want them to get married and have lots of babies!!

I hope he wins tonight, he deserves it.

She's so good for him.

I wish I looked that good.

But their words, no matter how kind this time round, won't matter. Because right now, nothing anyone could say could make you feel better than he does about yourself.

Dieter leans in, his arm sliding around your curvy waist, his voice husky and pouring liquid silk in your ear.

“Later on, I’m gonna fuck you in this dress, baby.” He promises, with a shit eating grin that’s just as gleaming as the devilish gold hoop twinkling in his ear.

“You better, it’s Valentino.” You smirk. “Gotta get your money's worth.”

Crookedly grinning at you, he places a lingering kiss on your glossy lips as the paparazzi go wild, snapping pictures of Oscar Nominee, Dieter Bravo, affectionately worshipping his Goddess for the whole world to see.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Dieter, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fluff #every body is beautiful #bodies series #diversity #inclusivity #jett's writing

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ohtobeleah · 3 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister.

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?”

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed.

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–”

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise.

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.”

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities.

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.”

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure.

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was.

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.”

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.”

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin.

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids.

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you.

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind.

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?”

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it.

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?”

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk.

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.”

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes.

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it.

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?”

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–”

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by.

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–”

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years.

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out.

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–”

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.”

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!”

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table.

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.”

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–”

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened.

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now.

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.”

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.”

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.”

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged.

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love.

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?”

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.”

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear.

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.”

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.”

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis.

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?”

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish.

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke.

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.”

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person.

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself.

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.”

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel.

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!”

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.”

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought.

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.”

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore.

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.”

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side.

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.”

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.”

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response.

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter.

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes.

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.”

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.”

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.”

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way.

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given.

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Note

hey beautiful, could i request a sub neteyam x reader (wifey) with an exhibition, spitting in mouth and degradation kink.

context: neteyam is oblivious to flirting from other females. so, reader decides to make it a point to show everyone neteyam's is theirs.

love love love your work. thanks for providing the neteyam spice that we all need 🤌🥰

Hide and Peek

a lil sumn sumn for y'all before bed

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Neteyam Sully (20) x Omatikaya Reader Y/N (19) Warnings: NSFW, degradation kink, spitting in mouth, exhibition, oral sex, foot stuff, knotting, sub neteyam

Word Count: 3.5k Authors note: My first ever request. This is a softer version of exhibition, etc. as public things are sort of a trigger me, so I hope this is okay, anon! :) lowkey got into it at the end, though.

Intro:

It’s been a few weeks since you and the Sully family have sought uturu in the Metkayina village, Awa’atlu. At first, the people were wary of all of you, thinking that providing you guys with a sanctuary would bring danger upon their people. However, after pulling your weight and adapting well to their way of life, they’ve become accepting of you and the Sully family. You and Neteyam have been so focused on adapting that your intimacy has taken quite a hit, to the point where the Metkayina people think you’re apart of the family, rather than Neteyam’s mate.

----

You sit in the sand next to Kiri, soaking up the warm rays of the sun that beats on your bodies.

“I could definitely get used to this. It’s not too bad here.” You say, digging your toes further into the sand. Kiri giggles, and shakes her head. “Nothing will compare to home. But I will admit that here is nice. Look around us, Eywa keeps on giving.” She takes a deep breath, savoring the scent of the ocean. You close your eyes and dip your head back, listening to the waves crash into the shore. It’s so serene that you feel like you’re going to fall asleep any second, when you hear three voices behind you. “Yeah. That Neteyam boy is cute. I’m glad he’s unmated... because I would mate with him.” Alira says, smiling to herself.

You look at Kiri, and scoff. “Forget what I said.” “Yeah? Well, I’d do way more than just mate with him.” Maru smirks. “Me too. I’d spit in his mouth and dominate the fuck out of him.” Vineya laughs, looking down at her feet.

Maru looks at Vineya. “Okay that’s a bit far… I’d probably just call him a few dirty names and put him in his place. He looks like he wants to be tamed.” She giggles.

“Well, I’d take his knot happily. It must be huge… he’s so tall and muscular. I just want to eat him up.” Alira mumbles to herself. “Definitely. I’d eat him alright. Probably have him eat me too.” Vineya moans softly, getting excited. “Maybe we can all share him then.” Maru suggests. “Shit. He’s coming, shush!” The words coming out of their mouths set a fire deep in your chest. Jealous isn’t a good enough word to describe the burning sensation inside your chest. You’re so livid that you feel like getting up and putting them in their place for talking about your mate like an object. He is not unmated. He is your mate, and he has been since he became a man. Kiri rests a hand on your thigh, as if to say, ‘don’t listen to them’. Her touch brings you back to reality. You shake your head, trying to get their words out your head.

Neteyam walks over to you guys, braids swaying side to side, and calls for you. “Kiri. Y/n.”

He glances at Kiri, and then at you, looking you up and down whilst smiling. He’s happy to see you. Likewise. You both stand up to greet him. “Brother. Coming to disturb us I see.” Kiri rolls her eyes. “Hey, you.” You walk towards him, returning the smile. “Just coming to check up on you two.” Neteyam says, resting a hand on your lower back. “Yeah. We all know who you’re actually here to check up on.” Kiri shakes her head, turning around to go sit back down in the sand. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

Neteyam laughs. “I cannot say she is wrong. I have been missing you. Dad has me watching Lo’ak, sorry I have been away so often.” He leans into you, moving his hand to your waist.

The simple touch feels so good; it’s been too long. You see the group of girls watching you guys intently. They talk among themselves, trying to encourage each other to come over and make a move.

You lean into your mate, and tippy toe, brushing your lips against his ear ever so slightly. He holds onto your waist a little tighter, providing you with some support, as he tilts his head down.

“Eclipse. Our spot. I miss you more, by the way.” You whisper in his ear, although it was more of a moan, and drop back to the flat of your feet. He turns to you, brows raised, and a grin plastered on his face. He stares at your lips - his way of saying ‘understood, my mate’. The girls make their way over and Neteyam loosens his grip around your waist to acknowledge the oncoming company. Neteyam was raised to be a gentleman, so he greets and speaks kindly to all people, even the ones with an ulterior motive. Typically, this means he’s oblivious to all flirting outside of yours – he couldn’t quite understand why someone would flirt with a mated man. He greets them with a smile, like a gentleman, which sends the wrong message. Strike one. Their approach is aggressive, causing you to take a step back as they surround your mate. You see red, the heat now radiating from your chest to the rest of your body. Did they not just see you touch your mate? Whisper in his ear? Him grab you by the waist? What more do they need, you to fuck him in front of them? Not a bad idea, y/n. You smile to yourself, and then at them. “Hey…” he looks at each one of them up and down as they circle him. Strike two. “Hey, mighty warrior” Vineya speaks, brushing her hand over his bicep. “You are a warrior, yes? You have the body of one” Neteyam laughs with her awkwardly, “Yes... I am”. “Hi. Do all Omatikaya people have braids?” Alira asks, twirling her finger around one of his braids, completely ignoring Kiri’s hairstyle. Neteyam is taken aback by the physicality, but puts it off to curiosity. “Not all of us, no.” He examines the girl intently. Strike three. “My name is Maru, hi.” She looks at his tail, stroking it from base to tip. “Your tail is so different... aren’t you slower in the water?” she asks. He chuckles uncomfortably and steps back, inching his way back to you. “Uh, somewhat. I am getting the hang of it, though.” He smiles at them and turns around to face you. “Y/n. I must go, dad is expecting me soon.” He smiles at you, tucking a braid behind your ear. “Kiri, I’ll see you later.” He waves at her, and then the group of girls. “Bye Neteyam! Hope to see you again soon!” The girls say in unison. Kiri rolls her eyes for a second time. “No respect.” She grabs your hand and pulls you towards your Marui pod.

To her surprise, you smile at her with a twitching eye, and say "Give me a minute.” You approach the girls who are gushing over your mate, once again. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, girls. I’m y/n.” you greet them. “Neteyam… he’s quite the catch, isn’t he?” They all greet you, looking you up and down. “He is. Any way that you could set us up?” They laugh again. “Yeah. Definitely.” You shrug your shoulder, smiling with them. “Y/n!” Kiri whisper calls for you, with confusion plastered all over her face. You move your hand discreetly to your back and shoo her away. “Sorry for my sister, she’s ready to go home.” You smile. “Anyways, as I was saying. There is a spot that I know about that Neteyam likes to go for some ‘alone time’. No one else is really allowed to follow him there, but I could show you guys.” You lean into their circle and whisper, “but you have to keep hidden, and quiet – very quiet.” They all quiet down and huddle into you, as if they were being told a secret. “Okay. We will be” They whisper, grinning with excitement. You pull back. “Good. Meet me here right before the eclipse, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smile, taking some strides backwards. “See you girls later.” You take Kiri’s arm and walk away quickly. “What are you thinking?” Kiri interrogates you. “I’m going to teach them a lesson. A lesson that’s obviously needed.” You say, dropping your mask and showing her your true feelings. “And how exactly are you going to do that?” Kiri asks, rolling her eyes for a third time. “You don’t want to know the details. Trust me.” You fume, breathing heavily.

----

When you get to the shore, you see the three girls huddled together talking amongst each other. The sky is getting dim as the eclipse is fast approaching. You walk over to them. “Hey girls.” You nudge your head in the direction of the rocky coast. “Follow me” You call for your ilu.

They come willingly, excited to spy on Neteyam. You all bond with your ilus and make your way over to the secluded spot, a small open cave, nestled in a sea of rocks by the mangroves. When you all arrive, you see Neteyam waiting patiently for his mate, his bioluminescence glowing in the darkness. Seeing your mate took your breath away, as it did for everyone else, too. You were ready to take him and make him yours all over again. You all hide behind the curves of the mangroves, peaking through the cracks of the roots. They’re mesmerized by this glowing body, as he starts to remove his hunting knife from his hip. He fiddles with his loincloth, repositioning it before he makes his way into the water. Spying on your mate like this arouses you, your already wet loincloth becomes wetter from your slick. You fall back, and swim quietly away from the girls, making your way towards a hidden hole in the mangroves that lead to the small open cave. You swim low and slow, keeping hidden until the very last moment, where you see your mate walking into the water. You slowly emerge out of the water, just as he’s crotch deep. In your direct line of sight is his cock, imprinting out of his wet loincloth. Brushing your face against his bulge, you stand slowly looking deep in his eyes. You make your way to the shallow end of the cave, backing him up against the rocky wall.

“Hey, mighty warrior.” You run your hand up his arm and squeeze his bicep. “You are a warrior, yes?” you lean into his chest, and kiss his muscular breast. “You have the body of one.”

He looks down at you with a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He responds with his line, “Yes... I am.” He pulls you in closer by your waist, leaning in to kiss you. You cup his bulge suddenly, making him jolt instead. “Need help removing this?” You smile, brushing your lips against his.

“I missed you, my mate.” He moans into your mouth, moving his hands up your back.

You glance to the surprised eyes that peer through the cracks of the mangroves and smirk. “I missed you more, my love.” You look back at him and meet your lips with his.

He kisses you hungrily, allowing his hands to explore your body, running his hand along your queue. You melt into his feverish touches, rubbing his bulge eagerly.

“I want to try something new today. You trust me, yes?” you whisper into his mouth.

“I trust you, always.” He smiles, nibbling on his bottom lip.

“Good.” You twirl one of his braids around your finger, then tuck it behind his ear.

You move your hand to the base of his queue, and run it along it’s length, holding the end and bringing it between you two. You both watch his tendrils dance excitedly, while he brings your queue forward. He puts your queue against his, and both your tendrils intertwine, connecting together. The feeling is exhilarating, causing both your eyes to dilate as you sync with one another.

The girls watching feel like they're invading a deeply intimate moment between mates – because they are. They’re taken aback, whispering to each other that they didn’t know you were his mate and that they thought you were merely his sister, or some sort of family pet. As much as they want to leave, they can’t. You see them linger longer, watching the show intently.

Being watched like this gives you an adrenaline rush, bringing feelings of extreme excitement to your body, transferring it to Neteyams.

“Why so excited?” he asks, watching you kiss your way down his body.

“Just excited to see you, babe.” Your sloppy, wet kisses reach his belly, where you play with the dips of his abs with your tongue.

His breath becomes raggedly, and his cock hardens even more.

“You’re making me rock-hard, y/n.” he says through a clenched jaw, feeling good from your kisses.

You untie the knot of his loincloth, unleashing his raging cock. You could practically hear the girls gasp at his length. You were going to give them the show of their lives. You rub your face against his cock, breathing in his musky scent. He stares down at you, with desire in his eyes. He wants you so badly, and you can feel it.

“I just want to eat you up.” you taunt, licking his cock from base to tip.

Eat me up? he thinks, confused.

“But, I prefer you eat me first.” You stand up quickly, moving him to switch positions with you.

You lean back against the wall, and rest your foot on a rock, opening your legs. “Get on your knees.” You demand him.

He looks at you, with an arched eyebrow and smiles, as if he can’t believe the words coming out your mouth. “What?”

You hear the faint giggles coming from the mangroves, as if they were saying that you couldn’t dominate your mate.

You untie your own loincloth and use it to blindfold your mate. “I said, kneel.” You say sternly.

He kneels immediately, obeying his mate’s command. His nose brushes against the soft flesh between your legs that lay open. He inhales deeply, savouring the sweet scent of your cunt.

You grab a fist full of his braids and shove his face into your pussy. “Now, eat.”

Being blindfolded, he has to rely solely on his other senses. His hands explore your thighs, while his tongue licks the flesh between your thighs, tasting the different flavours your body has to offer. Once he starts tasting the sweetness of your nectar, he laps up your juices hungrily. His nose is buried in your cunt, rubbing against your sensitive pearl, while he drinks the juices that flow out of you.

“Good boy. Fuck” you moan, rubbing your cunt against his face while gripping his head.

He’s drunk off your scent, gulping the slick that fills his mouth the more he eats you out. The water splashes against his back as he kneels and sucks on your clit, making your legs shake. You look down and see him, blind folded, making out with your cunt and it sends you over the edge.

“Ugh, f-fuck. You look like my little fuck toy sucking on my clit like that.” you purr, caressing his cheek. “Does this little toy want my cum?” you tease, feeling your climax approaching.

Yes. Fuck. He begs you.

All he can do is let throaty moans vibrate through his nose into your cunt, which brings you even closer to your peak. His breath is heavy, panting hot air into your pussy while he’s gripping your thighs as you thrust into his face, desperate to cum inside his mouth.

You dip your head back, feeling ecstasy from your mate lapping up your pussy juices, and peak at the girls watching you about to cum in his mouth. You give them a smile, and they look away in embarrassment.

“Look at me.” You demand.

They look back at you, eyes wide, looking you up and down.

He shakes his head. I can’t see, y/n.

“Not you, baby boy.” You moan breathlessly, about to cum any second. The thought of them watching you face fuck their little crush makes you so, so turned on.

You can tell your mate is getting weary, as his movements are becoming more erratic, desperate for you to cum in his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to cum inside your mouth that bad? Fuck.” You moan, shoving your pussy against his face.

The heat in your chest shoots down your spine, into your cunt, and out into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck! Cumming!” you shriek, grabbing his head and pushing it harder into your cunt.

You look down to see your mate gulping loudly, swallowing every drop of sweep nectar that drips out of your aching hole. You pull his face away from your cunt suddenly, letting him gasp for air. Strings of your cum that connect your pussy to his lips break as he sits back into the dip of his feet.

His shoulders move up and down from how hard he’s trying to catch his breath, making choking noises in the process. His hands rest on his thighs as he hangs his head, your cum still dripping down his mouth onto his chest. You’re panting too, trying to come down from your high.

“You did well, sweetheart.” You praise him.

Using a single finger under his chin to tilt his head upwards, he parts his lips, panting small, hot breaths.

“Open wider.” You command. He opens wider, tilting his head back even more, and you spit directly into his mouth. He whimpers, completely under your trance. “Swallow.”

He swallows your spit greedily, licking his bottom lip, corner to corner. Your foot presses against his bulging, throbbing cock, causing him to whine under your touch.

“Since you were such a good boy, I’ll make you feel good.” You take your mates cock between your toes, providing him with just enough friction.

The strings of precum dripping from his throbbing cockhead coat your toes in a thick slick, allowing him to thrust his hips freely.

“Work for it, my little cumslut.” He bucks his hips into your toes, moaning and whining loudly.

“Nghh... y/n. Why are you acting this way?” he asks through shaky breaths, working for his climax.

“It’s your punishment.” You state, like it was a fact.

“What did I do, baby? Mmnnh…” he whimpers, his head dipping back from being almost there.

“You don’t know?” you pull back your foot.

He thrusts against nothing into the air, still trying to chase his orgasm. “Fuck. Please, y/n.” he begs, extending his hand to touch himself.

You kick away his hand and crouch over, taking off his blind fold to reveal his watery, drunk eyes, willing to do anything to cum. “What did you think of those girls?”

“I don’t know, y/n.” he whines, “...they were friendly, I guess”

“No.” you straddle him. “They were flirting. With my mate.” You take the entirety of his pulsing, swollen cock inside your slippery cunt in one thrust, already feeling his knot emerging.

You both moan in unison, as you feel the heat of each other mix together. You look into each other’s eyes, forehead to forehead, panting from the feeling.

“That’s your problem. You think people are just being nice when really...” you lift your hips up, “...they want your huge, fucking cock.” You slam your hips against his.

His eyes squeeze shut as he dips his head back, feeling overstimulated by your walls that clench tightly around his girth. “I’m sorry, baby” he whimpers, resting his head into your bosom as he runs his fingers up and down your back.

“You better be, you little slut.” You whine on his knot while you breath into his ear, “make it up to me... and give me this fat knot of yours.”

Hearing these words drive him into a frenzy, fucking you erratically and moaning loudly. Just as you feel his cock heat up, trying to burrow it’s knot into your cunt, you grab his jaw and turn it towards the mangroves.

“Look at the audience while you cum inside your mate.” He looks through the cracks of the mangroves to see three, bulging, glowing pairs of blue eyes watching them.

He’s so deep into the thick, hazy fog that it turns him on even more to know that they’ve been watching him be dominated this entire time. He thrusts into you even harder, even deeper, showing them that you’re his. You lick his neck, holding his head in position while you ride out your oncoming orgasm, moaning in his ear.

“Knot me. Show them you’re mine.” You moan, feeling your cunt start to pulsate around his cock.

He’s panting, staring at the blue eyes that stare at back at him while he ruts into you relentlessly, listening to your loud moans in his ear.

“Oh – oh shit. F-fuck! Cumming. Cumming!” he lets out lengthy whines, driving his knot into your cunt, tying you two together.

You turn your head to the direction of their glowing eyes, and smile, planting wet kisses all over your mates face, as he gasps for air. “That’s a good boy. I hope you learnt your lesson. All of you.”

Photo creds: sberrymango (on insta)

#neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam smut #neteyam imagine #avatar #avatar smut #avatar x you #avatar way of water #metkayina #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam fic #neteyam x y/n

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lcahwriter · 2 years

Text

“Bradshaw’s Girl”

Pairing: Platonic Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, and Bradley“Rooster”Bradshaw x reader (non descriptive reader, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Cat-calling, creepy dude, swearing

Summary: You’re dating Bradley, but when he’s not there to protect you, Jake is.

“You know whose girl that is? Bradley Bradshaw’s.”

Authors Note: Just a fun oneshot for everyone. You all know Im a slut for protective men :)))) Hope you enjoy :)

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The large sandy beach was packed with people. Everywhere you looked you saw sweaty bodies in swimsuits. Some people were laying in the sand like you- others were swimming or eating their weight in ice cream from the nearby Snack-Shack.

You made the trek to the beach when Rooster invited you to come watch him play volleyball with his pilot friends. You gladly accepted, looking forward to seeing your sweaty boyfriend shirtless for a few hours.

He looked fucking gorgeous, just as you were expecting. His muscles were glistening with sweat. Your eyes followed every line and dimple on his body until there was nothing else left to inspect. His body was killer, but god damnit, his smile with that heavenly laugh- now that was deadly.

You sighed and laid back on your elbows, planting them in the sand. You were wearing a tiny bikini so that your body was on full display- partly for sun tanning and partly to tease the shit out of Rooster. You were a good 30 feet from the volleyball game – but you could see Bradley sneaking glances at you.

You caught his eye and waved at him, only for him to get hit in the chest with a volleyball seconds later. He grimaced in pain and you busted out laughing immediately.

“Pay attention Bradshaw!” Yelled Coyote, slapping Bradley behind the head.

“Can’t help myself.” He said smugly. He shot you a toothy smile and turned his head back to the game.

You felt your stomach grumble and let out a low rumbling sound. You were fucking starving, and the ice cream everyone was chowing down on looked like the perfect treat.

You stood up and wiped the sand off your butt and legs the best you could. You slipped on jean shorts and glanced back at the volleyball game. Bradley was engrossed in the competition now- and he somehow looked even more sweaty than before.

You trudged to the light blue Snack Shack, determined to find ice-cream. You walked up to the shack and looked up at the weathered menu. The place was crowded, and there were groups of people all around you. You saw groups of girls your age, families with babies and toddlers – and retired couples all around.

Your eyes wandered to the left of you where a group of men around your age were gathered in a circle eating ice-cream. You made eye contact with one of the men, causing you to look away immediately.

You crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously and inched forward in the line. You could feel the group staring at you.

“Hey baby, I saw you lookin at me.” The mans voice was so fucking cocky, it made you want to punch him in the face. You pretended you didn’t hear him and bit the inside of your cheek nervously. You could hear the men laughing at their friend for being ignored.

You sighed and stepped further up in line away from the group. You fucking hated college aged boys. Always hanging out in groups – always trying to get laid. It was disgusting really. You felt relieved when you finally made it to the window to order your ice cream.

You giddily took the large ice-cream cone from the worker. Your mouth was watering before you even took your first lick of it.

You started licking the ice-cream and turned around to go back towards your tanning spot. You hadn’t forgotten about the unwanted attention from the group standing nearby, so you kept your head down as you walked past them.

“Aw come on baby don’t leave in such a rush!” The same man from before called out behind you. The speed you were walking increased, and your heart started to beat faster.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He was catching up with you now, you could hear his feet padding in the sand. You came to a complete halt and turned around angrily.

“Fuck off, I’m not interested.” You seethed. Normally you would never confront a man who was harassing you- but you were in a very public place – and you were supremely pissed off.

“I saw you checking me out.” He countered back. You took in his greedy brown eyes and stout build. You shook your head at him in disbelief.

“It’s called taking in my surroundings, idiot.” Your ice cream was melting in your hand now, but you didn’t dare keep licking it since you knew the man would have something disgusting to say about it. He inched towards you, causing you to immediately shuffle backwards.

“You have a dirty mouth, don’t you? Let me take you—” Before he could finish his sentence you felt someone come up behind you. You jumped and looked back to see Jake eyeing the man in front of you. Relief settled over you.

“Shit where did you get that ice cream? It looks delicious.” His voice was friendly, but he quickly glanced down at you with concerned eyes. You didn’t know him well, but you knew that Bradley trusted him with his life. You subconsciously stepped closer to the tall blonde.

“Hey man, we were actually in the middle of something.”

You scoffed at him and shook your head. Men were un-fucking-believable. As much as you wanted to talk back to him, you knew Jake had a better shot of diffusing the situation.

“Oh were you? That’s too bad.” Jake said, his voice now laced with sarcasm. He started to guide you away, his hand lightly touching the top of your shoulder as you both turned.

“Don’t act like a fucking whore if you aren’t willing to give it up.” The man sneered. You ignored his comment and kept walking, but Jake stayed still. Fuck. Before you could stop him, he turned around.

“You look familiar, you in the Navy?” Jake asked, his head tilting slightly. You watched as the strangers face paled at Jakes comment.

“Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes.” Jake stepped closer to the man. You stayed behind him; your body now frozen in fear of Jake setting off this temperamental idiot.

“Well, you know whose girl that is?” Jake pointed back at you. “Bradley Bradshaw’s.”

“I don’t know him.” The stranger said. You noticed his greasy fists were balled at his sides.

“Well, he would be really pissed off if he knew you were bothering his girl.” Jake threatened. “And honestly, you’re really starting to piss me off too.” Jakes usual playful voice was now twisted with anger.

“What are you going to do about it?” the stranger challenged, taking a full step towards the both of you. You swore under your breath. Jake moved completely in front of you, blocking your whole body from the creep.

“Do you really want to find out?”

You peaked your head around Jakes tall frame. The man looked at Jake, and then to you- and finally back to Jake.

“You’re not worth my time anyway.” He sneered. You weren’t sure if he was referencing you or Jake. But it didn’t matter anymore, because he turned to walk away.

“Fuck.” You said, letting out the huge breath you’d been holding in. “Thank you. I tried to tell him to fuck off but obviously that didn’t work.”

“Yeah, he’s a piece of work.” Jake mocked in his usual joking tone. He motioned towards the volleyball court and started walking. “And no problem sunshine, I could tell something was up.”

You gave him a small smile and tried to clean up all the ice-cream that melted over your hands. Fucking asshole had to ruin your ice-cream too.

You twisted your lips with the realization that you had just been harassed at the beach, when all you were trying to do was get ice-cream. You looked down at your swimsuit and couldn’t help but want to cover up.

You were about to part ways with Jake and go to your beach bag when a very sweaty Bradley approached you both.

He was all smiles, but when you and Jake didn’t immediately return the same enthusiasm, he frowned.

“What’s up?” Your boyfriend asked, his eyes slightly narrowed. You sighed in frustration.

“Nothing.” You said, not wanting to ruin a perfectly good day any longer. Now Jake was the one scoffing.

“Try again.” Jake said, looking at you with his arms crossed. You shot him a death glare. Bradley was looking between you both in confusion. He had never seen you and Jake interact this much before, which probably confused him further.

“Some asshole was harassing her.” Jake said in annoyance. You watched as Bradley’s eyes grew wide with anger, and then with concern.

“Did he touch you?” Bradley’s eyes were dark, and his bare chest was turning red with anger. You shook your head immediately.

“No baby. He was just saying gross things.” You mumbled. “Jake stopped him before he could do anything.”

Jake smiled proudly and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll point him out to you if I see him on base tomorrow.” Jake looked at Bradley with devious eyes.

“Please don’t. He’s not worth that kind of attention.” You said, licking the last bit of your ice-cream cone. “I am pissed about my ice-cream melting though.” You looked at the cone sadly and grimaced at the stickiness on your hands.

Both men seemed to ignore your request and continued on with their plan.

“Well thank- you Hangman.” Bradley said, a small smile on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Sounds like a date.” Jake slapped Bradley on the shoulder and walked past you both.

You let out a big sigh and leaned your head against Bradley’s tall frame.

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your bare shoulders. You finally relaxed and let your shoulders slouch.

“I’m okay.” You said back. “Let’s just go home?”

Bradley’s warm eyes looked down at you. They were a mix of concerned and tired. He leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.

“Lets do it baby.”

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Let me know what you think! All the support helps :) I am taking requests.

#jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #hangman onshot #rooster oneshot #protective hangman #protective jake seresin #protective rooster #top gun maverick #top gun fan fiction

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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year

Text

𝓦𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ʟᴀɴᴀ ᴅᴇʟ ʀᴇʏ- ʏᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ

Tw: not much spoilers but teens being teens, mentions of bullying, nudity because of bathing. reader is a mama’s girl, Flashback

Author’s note: You guys wanted a part two, so I give you a part two :3 I stayed up late because I couldn’t sleep plus I had a lot of Ideas in mind that I could not wait to write the next morning. I know nothing of na’vi hygiene so I made stuff up. I like reading the comments even though I can’t respond to them, leave as many comments as you want ^^ if you wish to be added in the taglist just comment and ill ad you on my up coming work.

Masterlist

When you return back home, you saw your brother, who had some bruises on his face and body. You asked “What happened?” you sat your bag down on the small table. “Your brother made fun of the Sully’s and got a beat” your father said as you looked at your brother disappointedly at him. “Oh Ao’nung” you said as you sat next to him as your mother had served everyone there dinner and sat down to eat.

You all talked about your day along with the process of the Sullys. After dinner, you helped clean up and went to bed with your sister in your shared room. That night you fell asleep, you had dreamed about water with stars in them, you weren’t sure if that was some kind of vision or just another dream but you felt as if it shouldn’t go ignored.

Ronal was holding the human infant in her arms, she had never cared for a human baby, she assumed it would be difficult but surprisingly not. Y/n was just like a regular Na’vi baby but smaller and different features. Ronal couldn’t help but be very protective of the infant, though the baby wasn’t her blood she still felt as if she needed to care for the child.

Tonowari had grown a soft spot for the human baby, he has never seen such a small creature in his life except for his daughter Tsiyera when she was still a baby, now a toddler learning how to talk and walk on her own. Like his mate he thought raising a dreamwalker child would be hard but the baby was just a baby.

Tonowari and Ronal had been teaching both Tsireya and y/n how to swim underwater, they had to teach them at a young age so that they could develop faster later. Ronal was worried that y/n would drown due to how small she was but surprisingly the infant had managed to swim in the water. “You did wonderful Y/n” Ronal praised the human infant lifting her up in the air causing the baby to giggle. Tonowari looked over at his mate seeing her interact with the infant while he has Tsireya on his shoulders. It warmed his heart seeing this.

A bit much later, Ronal had fallen pregnant again, Tsireya was now 4 years old and y/n was 3 years old. While Ronal was teaching Tsireya how to free-dive, Tonowari was teaching you how to hold a spear along with how to use it. He believed that since she was smaller, he would teach her how to be strong. He had let you hold his spear which was heavier then the smaller one that he made for you. “Okay y/n, be focused” the male said to the small child as she continued to held the spear with both hands. The little girl was slightly shaking do to the heaviness of the spear “now, throw it as hard as you can” he said as the girl did what she was told, though the spear didn’t go that far, it felt flat on the sand missing the target which was accouple feet away. “I missed” she said looking up at her father. “That’s fine, that why we’ll practice until you get it.” He said ruffling her hair.

The next morning, you woke up really early to go bathe with your mother and sister. You gathered some things such as your comb, some beads, wooden tin cylinders that contained both shampoo and conditioner, a bar of flower scented soap, another wooden tin that contained seaweed slime and a change of clothes.

Once you were ready to go, you left to the hot spring. The hot spring was surrounded by trees as a form of privacy, this was the women’s hot spring while the one for male’s was a bit further. As you all walked towards the hot spring some women stepped out while others went in.

When in the hot spring you greeted the women were there either bathing, talking or relaxing in the hot water. Some were helping their children bath and others were playing in the hot water. Some girls your age were in a small group talking, they were probably gossiping or talking about boys.

You had stripped from your clothes and stepped in the hot water. You and your sister helped your mother into the hot water, along with carefully getting her to sit. Your sister helped you take your hair down and wash it, she enjoyed washing your hair like you do hers. When she was done with your hair you then turned to her and also wash plus conditioned her long hair.

Then you moved to washing your body with the bar of soap, removing the scent of salt water, you’ll probably smell like sea salt later but you didn’t mind. Once you had removed the soap from your body you heard your mother “y/n come here” she said as she had finished with Tsireya’s hair, she had styled it the same like yesterday. You sat on her lap as she then began to comb your hair out. “How do you want it?” She asked as she began to apply aloe on your hair. “Anything is fine” you said as she began to work on your hair. Her hands were very gentle on your scalp, it felt like when you got your tattoo, at first you were afraid because the tattoo would hurt but she manage to make it feel as if a feather was going across your face.

You sat on her lap for a little bit as Ronal continued with your hair, meanwhile you were playing with the water in front of you, while your sister was now getting dressed. Whenever your mother did your hair you felt like a child again, even though you were of age, you would always be your mother’s baby. “Done” your mother said as you reached up and touched your hair feelings six sets of braids on your head with beads, while the rest of your hair was down reaching your mid back. “Thank you mother” you said turning to smile at her, she smiled at you and kissed your small forehead. She may be harsh and stoic around others but in private, she was a loving mother who wants the best for her children.

Then you stepped out of the hot spring and got dressed, you wore a pale colored top that was made with both thin rope and white pearls, the top was a gift from your mother, she made it herself. As for the bottom you wore a hip scarf that was the same color of your top with shells. When you were done you took a the wooden tin with seaweed slime and began to apply it on your skin, to keep it moisturized, the others didn’t really need it but you did since your skin was different.

Once you were done you and your sister began walking back to the village to find the Sully’s. “So, where were you last night?” Tsireya broke the silence as you looked up at her “oh, I was out...” you said feeling your face go hot then you saw your sister smile at you “are you interested in any one?” She asked the smile growing wider, making you nearly trip “I’m not sure... maybe?” you said shyly as she giggled at your shyness. “Its okay, I am also into a boy” she said making you gasp and turn to her. “Really?! Who is it?!” you wanted to know who it was but she just smiled at you, leaving you to wonder who her crush was.

That morning you had went swimming before meeting with the Sully’s, you swan where you normally swan. Seeing that the fish had woken up and went on to swim around, it made you happy seeing the schools of fish swimming around you, sometimes even swimming through your fingers or hair. Once you swam up to the surface to catch your breath, you saw your sister, brother, Rotxo, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and lastly Neteyam. You smiled and greeted them “Good morning, how was your sleep?” you asked

“It was alright, thought Lo’ak snored all night” Kiri complained causing her brother to whine “No I didn’t that was Neyetam” he defended himself, which made your sister giggle at him. You noticed how when Tsireya would look at Lo’ak her eyes dilated, she also smiled more than usual, this caught your attention.

The small group of teens and child swan around the reef, Tsireya had been showing them places which contained beautiful plants along with other kind of fish to see. Mean while, Neyetam stayed close to you. Sometimes he’d need ‘help’ moving around by grabbing your small hand and let you guide him around. The evening was fun, no one was fighting, everyone was getting along. It made you smile, seeing that everyone was laughing and having fun with one another.

After that evening, Kiri and Tuk went home, Ao’nung and Rotxo went to find their other friends, Tsireya and Lo’ak went on their own way, suspiciously together. Leaving you and Neteyam. You were both sitting on the beach, watching the other villagers doing their daily tasks.

You then began to have a conversation about the things you liked such as food, weapon of choice and other stuff. You noticed how the forest na’vi paid close attention to you talk while you did the same. He told you about his adventures in his old home, he seemed to really miss his home. You wanted to be in his place, you wanted to know how he felt due to being in a place that wasn’t his original home.

Neteyam had all his attention on you, he looked at every small detail of yours. How you had a small scar on your lip along little ones on your hands,they must of been your hunts or fishing. He also noticed how you were a bit muscular. What caught his attention more was how when the sun reflected on you, you glowed like those fishes under water, beautiful. He had to contain himself when asking other questions, he didn’t want to offend you with a question he had been thinking since the day he saw you.

“Could I ask a question?” Neteyam asked shyly as you nodded, looking into his eyes. “Do you ever feel out of place? Since you’re different than the rest?” He ask. You nodded “yeah, in a way... I always wondered why I didn’t have the same skin like everyone, or tail, same with eyes and height. I would ask mother and father about it, but they’ve told me that Eywa has put me in their path for a reason.”

You answered honestly, your parents were fully honest with you. It was obvious that you were not their flesh and blood, but they love you as if you were. “My mother may not have given birth to me but she is still my mother, she was the one that raised me along with father, he took care and protected me like father does to a child.” You said as Neteyam listened closely, he did not want to miss any details. “Do you ever wonder who your parents are?” he asked as you then responded “sometimes, but I know that they had made the right choice in leaving me in good hands, I have two wonderful parents and siblings, another one coming on its way” you said happily, you loved talking about your family since you loved them dearly.

Neteyam couldn’t help but smile, he had already fallen in love with that lovely smile of yours. For a moment locked eyes with him again, those wide beautiful yellow orbs reminded you of the sun, you had noticed how he looked a lot like his mother, from his eyes, nose, fangs and hair, he was a carbon copy of her. But he also had his father’s features. That was the thing that you dearly wished to have, to look like both your parents like your siblings.

Tsireya looked a lot like father, but more gentle and feminine while Ao’nung looked like a carbon copy of your mother but masculine, but yet, they also had other features from both parents.

Just like yesterday, at night you both went for a swim, you worried he’d get in trouble but he told you not to worry. You both swam and played in the water for a what felt like a while. You both were playing a game of hide and seek under water. Neteyam had a heard time finding you since you were small and could fit anywhere. You’d normally jump out and surprise him causing to laugh. You had also noticed how his little spots on his face would glow, like stars in the water, he looked so heavenly under the water.

Afterwards he walked you home, as you walked towards your mauri, you both were joking each other quietly, not wanting to disturb the now sleeping villagers. Once you arrived you stopped to thank him. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” you said shyly, staring at him. Neteyam nodded smiling, finding your shyness adorable “yeah, have a good night” he said as he gave you one final smile and began to walk away. You watched him walk away, you continued to watch him until he was gone. You felt fish swimming in your stomach, he was the one, you just knew he was the one. That night when you laid in bed, you practically begged Eywa to destine you and Neyetam on being mates.

Taglist: @byunpum @moony-artemis @somewereinthegalaxi

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brownskinlemon · 3 months

Text

Forever and a Day (d.f.)

pairings: dom/reader

word count: 1.211

summary: Your bestfriend/roomate Dominic finds out about a secret you have been keeping

warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, kissing

authors note: loving the love, send requests if you wanna see something specific. Thanks to @gri1my for this request! <3

do not repurpose or repost as your own for any reason on any platform without credit.

You and Dom had spent the day at the beach, the same beach you always came to together since elementary school. You had come here so much you were almost sure there was sand permanently in your closet, between all the summer days and warm nights. Between bonfires, drunken group nights, tears on each other shoulders through every hard thing, you two had practically grown up on this sand together.

You had packed up for the day, trudging to the street to walk home, with Dominic in tow with his eyes nearly closed from how he had worn himself out surfing. You smiled softly to yourself, amused at how this big man with tattoos and a RBF looked so gentle and sleepy.

You had secretly had a soft spot for him ever since middle school. You cursed the way girls got googly eyes around him, and how he never seemed to notice the way your eyes saw him deeply, deeper than he would ever know. You had grown up and rented a house in your hometown of Naples, each with your own room. You were silently grateful that you were not privy to any of the activities he indulged in with other girls, though he rarely ever did, he had the decency to spare you the details and the noise. You had shoved your feelings down, doing what you knew best, avoiding your feelings and doing your best to get over it, filling the gaps with rare hookups and situationships. It was moments like this however, that brought you back to middle school, completely and utterly a fool for him.

Your keys jangled at your door, as you swung it open, and you both dropped all of your belongings on the ground. As you shuffled about the kitchen, unloading the cooler, you heard Dom scuffle behind you to the livingroom to flop onto the couch. You walked to the door frame of the living room, poking your head in to see the tall man splayed on the couch on his stomach, legs hanging over one of the arms. You padded quietly over to him, poking his forehead.

“Hey, can you get up and go shower? I’m about to cook and I know how you are about eating while feeling dirty.”

He slowly cracked one eye semi-open, peering up at you. He sighed and sat up to face you, head tilting up to you as you stood with your hands on your hips.

“I guess so…” He poked your exposed tummy, making your stomach clench, begrudgingly standing up and scuffing to the bathroom in his room.

You had decided on mac n cheese and salmon, silently moving about the kitchen, your thoughts about Dom keeping you busy. Your thoughts were interrupted by a call from your friend Sonya.

“Hey what’s up?” You put the phone on speaker.

“Did you tell him yet?” She blurted out, forcing you to immediately snatch the phone off the counter and take it off speaker, crooking it in between your shoulder and ear.

“Can you hush?” You whispered sharply, “You’re acting like I don’t live with him”

“Sorry, sorry. So..?” She trailed off.

“No” You muttered, sighing to yourself. “I just…don’t wanna mess things up. We live together and if it goes..wrong, it would make things unbearably weird and our friendship would be nonexistent.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe,he likes you too?” She countered.

You stood there, silently toying with your bottom lip, and let out a heavy breath. “No, I don’t want to entertain that delusion.”

“Ok but if you keep waiting he’s gonna be entertaining someone else’s p-” She was suddenly cut off by Dominic yelling for you from his room.

“Y/N! Can you help me?”

“Watch it. I’ll talk to you later.” You whispered into the phone.

“Go get your man” She snickered.

“Bye” You smirked, rolling your eyes at her childish teasing.

You quickly made your way down the hall, bracing yourself for either an injury or a bad idea. You were shocked to find him in his bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with a hairbrush in his hand.

“Um. What’s up?” You said, trailing off, leaning into the doorway.

“I need you to brush my hair” He deadpanned, eyes boring into yours.

“No way you called me in here to brush your hair.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Please?” He whispered sweetly, making your insides turn at how adorable he looked, Damp curls draping beautifully over his face, brown eyes doll-like. You pushed off the door frame, trailing over to him, taking the brush and standing on his side.

You began sectioning and brushing his hair silently, eyes catching his face in the mirror and he sat with his eyes closed, blissed out and nearly falling asleep at your gentleness.

“What were you and Sonya talking about?” He broke the silence.Your eyes locked onto his as they met through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, failing miserably as your voice began shaking and your eyes avoided his, looking at everything but him.

“About whatever secret you’re hiding from me” He said candidly.

“How much of that did you hear?” You sighed and muttered, accepting defeat.

“Enough. You’re kind’ve a loud whisperer.” He admitted, pausing for a moment. “Did you mean it?”

“Do you want me to mean it?” You had stopped brushing his hair by now, eyes caught on the tattoo on the side of his neck.

He turned while sitting, head turning to look up at you, eyes dancing between yours.Your breath caught in your chest at the eye contact. He slowly brought himself up to stand over you, eyes not leaving yours. He stepped forward so that your chests were nearly touching and his lips ghosted over yours, hands moving to cup your face.

“Can I?” He said, barely over a whisper.

“Please” You whined.

It took no time for him to respond, gently connecting your lips. He walked you backwards until your hips gently met the sink, lips languidly moving in tune with yours. He gently lifted you onto the counter, your hands lacing into his unruly curls, and his hands grasping at your thighs and the small of your back.

You whined into the kiss, arching up into his chest as he gently tugged your bottom lip with his teeth. You gently opened your mouth for him, inviting his tongue to dance with yours. After a few moments, you both pulled away as his forehead stayed on yours, chests heaving and lips bright and dark from the kiss.

“How long were you gonna wait hm?” His eyes searched yours.

“Forever and a day probably” You admitted shyly.

“Why?” He chuckled.

“Because I just…I was scared that if I said something that you wouldn’t feel the same, and that it was gonna just fuck everything up.” You answered, eyes flickering between his blown ones. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” You countered back.

“Same thing for me. I tried to push it down, but fuck it fought so hard to come back up. I was losing it” He sighed contently.

“I’m glad” You smiled at him,

He leaned back, helping you hop off the counter. He turned you in his arms, both of you facing the mirror as he began wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head to your shoulder.

“This strangely makes sense…us…how we look together.” You whispered

“Mhm.” He smiled, dimples popping out and eyes squinting, as he kissed your cheek. “My hair looks nice too. You did good”

“I’ve been known to be a woman of many talents” You both chuckled, “Speaking of, you have salmon and mac n cheese waiting on you”

His eyes shot open. “I’m fucking starving that sounds heavenly”

You left his arms, walking out of the bathroom backwards, “Well if you don;t hurry I’ll gladly take your plate…” You teased.

You both ran through the halls like children, giggling and squealing as he caught up to you.

“We should do this again.” He smiled as you were pinned on the kitchen counter.

‘Same time tomorrow.” You beamed at him.

You both had dinner, settling into what would be your new normal. You hated to admit it, but for once, Sonya was right.

#dominic fike #dom fike #fluff #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike fluff

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saltofmercury · 10 months

Text

Moments

Author’s note: Something I had tried to finish before my big hiatus in April but never felt comfortable enough to share? Also is anyone still out here? I hope you like it.

Pairing: König x f!reader

“Moments”

It’s the small moments.

Small memories that run through his brain, bringing him back to reality. They flip like book pages when he’s caught staring at the empty sand, an abandoned warehouse, and they continue to keep him up late at night.

The sound of your alarm goes off, but he’s not home, you’re not next to him. The ground is cold and dirty, not warm and cushioned like his bed. The alarm goes off only once— its caught before it rings again. It’s the same tone but Horangi stopping it.

Every morning after you’ve hit snooze a couple times, the same tone goes off multiple times.

There’s rustling towards his right arm. He’s been up for a couple of hours, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

Then, there’s a weight settling back into his arms.

He rolls his eyes, rubbing your back, holding in a laugh. You do this every morning, ignoring your alarm, rushing late to work, and scrambling around the room.

He gives you four more minutes before he decides to wake you.

There’s also seeing your face light up when he’s picking you up from work.

The G-Wagon blasting a genre of music you know already too well. Your face swings towards the right side locking eyes with him through the window.

He’s covered in a black hoodie, the hood hanging above his eyelids. You can barely see inside through the tinted windows.

Making your way into the car, his huge hands are quick to pull you in, cupping your face. A big smile snakes up the corners of his mouth, bringing you into a kiss. The hood above his head covers almost all of your face,

a sigh is released.

You make him feel whole, not alone anymore.

It’s been over six months since he’s been gone. There’s been emails exchanged, seasons have passed, but for the most part it’s been dead quiet.

The scent of him is gone on his side of the bed. You’ve sprayed his cologne a couple times but it’s just not the same.

Sometimes your mind plays tricks on you— the jingle of keys, the crunch of tires along the driveway, a ghost limb next to you, or the vibration of your phone in your pocket.

Four days left.

At the movies he picks out the red M&m’s. His big fingers tear the bag apart as he tries to find all the red ones.

He’s distracting himself from the first date jitters.

He’s been on a couple dates with you but every time it feels like the first.

“Red tastes the best”

You roll your eyes at him.

“They’re all the same.”

“No, they are not. I assure you red is different.”

He smiles at you.

“Test me, I promise you I know different taste in the colors”

You stick a blue color m&m in his mouth quickly and have him guess.

“Yuck! Schatz this is blue”

You’re stunned. How the fuck did he guess the correct color?

“No way, try again.” You pick a yellow one from his bag, covering it slowly with your other hand. You peek at him, but his eyes are completely closed with his tongue out.

He eats it, then smiles at you.

“Yellow.”

König watches the clock every ten seconds. His eyes switch between his boss and the clock.

He’s done longer missions before, but never had someone waiting on the other end.

He starts to bounce his leg. He can feel his palms start to sweat, his dirty hair on his head matted underneath the t-shirt placed over his head.

There’s emotions running through him. Excitement running through him to see you.

It’s so easy to make you happy.

He always thought a relationship was going to be difficult.

The first time he had left on a mission he brought home strawberries for you.

You had been complaining how winters never bring sweet strawberries.

“where did you find them?” Your eyes just as wide as your smile.

Strawberries were not in season and you thought of the endless recipes you could make.

Seeing you light up, hearing the gratitude in your voice, made him melt.

The time your car needed a jump —

It took just 3 seconds of hearing your tired voice for him to immediately come over.

It was a cold day and you had brought out a blanket stored in the trunk. You had cried your eyes out scared that nothing was working.

He had the problem fixed in under 5 minutes but when you said —

“I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Seeing your lip quivering, your eyes rimmed with fatigue and tears— because of ALL days, every single thing today had to go bad.

He liked coming to your rescue.

In bed however, that was when he knew he was made to be with you.

When he was on top of you, foreheads touching, mask slightly up because he had rushed over from a mission and straight into your hands,

he held your legs,

pressed his other hand along the headboard,

sinking in and out of you trying not to cum,

“you—

you moaned arching your back and sinking your teeth into his shoulder

— feel so good….

His breathy laugh exhales out his body. How did you two mesh so well?

The heat rushes to his cheeks, he’s forgotten that he’s wearing a mask and looks around to make sure nobody’s watching the pink hue flush into his cheeks.

The drive home he can’t contain his excitement. He’s wondering if you’ve changed, if he’s changed at all. Would there be a difference in six months?

The road leading up to his house gets shorter, his hands on the steering wheel turn clammy, cold, and look more pale than usual.

As he parks, his heart beats fast. He skips the luggage in his car and rushes inside.

The keys jingle in the front door—

Your socks slip across the floor, rushing towards the door. He’s not even halfway in before you attempt to yank him inside, slipping in the process.

He’s quick and tugs you up towards him.

Crushing you between his arms and chest, his arm snakes its way up your back pulling your face closer to him.

His cold lips find yours, his tongue prying your mouth open. His eyes close softly, both of you lost in this moment, regaining familiarity with one another.

Once you pull away, you take a good look at him. His eyes are still rimmed with black, making the hue of his blue eyes brighter. His face still has some of the redness and faded scars around him.

You take a second to memorize the new ones and recall old ones. Your gaze shifting to every inch of his face.

“Stop it” his voice startles you, but when you peek at him, there’s the smile and his eyes are roaming around your face too.

The curve of your nose, the fading acne scars you have, the small redness you have around your cheeks and chin.

He walks forward towards the couch, settles with you on top— a sigh leaving his mouth.

“I’ve missed our couch.”

He peeks up at you, closes his eyes for a second, gaining his shyness again.

Have you always been this intimidating?

He’s become a bit unfamiliar with how to be around you. He starts to worry again, wondering if you’ve changed your mind about being here with him.

But you’re already a step ahead and bring out the bag stored on top of the coffee table.

“Ok round five? I know you’re cheating.”

His heart flutters and his cheeks flush again. His eyes and nose crinkle, his chest letting out a boisterous laugh.

Every time he laughs he seems to age backwards. The muscles, the height, his age— all fade away to someone 20 years old again.

“M&m’s? Again?” He peeks at the you. You remembered the silly little game he conjured on one of your first dates.

“Yes. Because I know you’re cheating.”

He opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out.

“I can prove you wrong as many times as you want.”

#könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig fluff #könig headcanons #call of duty mw2 #könig mw2 #konig x reader #konig call of duty

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itneverendshere · 5 months

Text

you're burning - rafe cameron (one shot!series)

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader (fem!reader; criminal!reader)

word count: 1277

WARNINGS: sexual tension; asshole!rafe; enemies to coworkers??; mentions of sex; canon!rafe; two peas in a pod if you ask m; author note in the end :)

part ii

The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the sand. The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and adventure, blending seamlessly with the whispers of secrets that echo through the narrow streets.

In the heart of it all, Rafe Cameron prowls like a restless predator, his ocean-blue eyes glinting with mayhem.

Rafe is a force to be reckoned with – reckless, impulsive, and fueled by a thirst for danger. He thrives on chaos, his reputation preceding him like a storm warning. The heir to the Cameron family legacy, Rafe is born into privilege, but he craves more than the silver spoils of his lineage. His ambitions reach beyond the manicured lawns of the estate; they stretch into the murky depths of the Outer Banks' underbelly.

He is no good, but you aren’t better.

A tempest of a woman with a spirit as wild as the untamed waves crashing against the shore. You carry your father’s legacy with pride.

A “no-good criminal pogue”.

Some would say you embody the spirit of the Outer Banks – unpredictable, rebellious, and unapologetically untamed.

It is no wonder you and Rafe Cameron clash like waves in a storm, egos colliding with a force that leaves destruction in its wake. The town witnesses your battles – verbal and physical – as they dance on the edge of destruction, neither willing to yield.

“I’d rather eat shit.”

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” Rafe all but grits out, jaw tense as he tries his best not to lash out, “Think about it.”

You eye him up and down. He can see the wheels in your head spinning.

“No.”

“Is this some crazy kink?” He looks at you, expectantly, “Denying me?”

His piercing blue always seems to know everything. Always demanding to be the center of your attention. You don’t know why you do this to yourself.

You really don’t.

“I’m not helping you steal the fucking gold, Cameron,” You smirk, a devilish glint in your eyes, “Not in this lifetime, or the next.”

"You have a real problem, you know that?" He growls lowly, making your stomach flip, your pulse racing at the scent of his cologne when he stands so close to you.

It’s as if your bodies, despite the antagonism, yearn to bridge the gap, only to be restrained by the walls you’ve both built around yourselves. His eyes blaze with an intensity that could scorch the very ground you focus on.

"Yeah?” Your attitude falters for mere seconds as he presses his chest against yours, his warm breath fanning on your face. For all you know, he could be seconds away from strangling you, “What’s that, sweetheart?”

Suddenly, a subtle transformation occurs. The corners of his mouth twitch, and he tilts his head ever so slightly. With an almost imperceptible move, he brings the tip of his tongue to lightly poke at his cheek. It is a spontaneous, yet deliberate gesture, as if he is physically suppressing the words that threaten to spill forth.

“You’re a brat.”

Your gazes, though laced with disdain, hold a magnetic pull, an unspoken acknowledgment of an attraction that simmers beneath the surface.

“Oh no!” Your tone is condescending, “I guess that makes two of us.”

His smirk grows into a full-blown grin, “Only difference is I know how to keep my mouth shut in bed.”

“And how would you know that?” You sneer as you step back, wrapping your arms around yourself to fend off from his presence.

A subtle ripple of exasperation sweeps across his features, momentarily interrupting the canvas of attractiveness. The movement is graceful, accompanied by a languid blink, as if he is momentarily seeking refuge from your conversation.

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Your laughter, carefree and unrestrained, adds to the act, as if the memory of your shared night is nothing more than a fleeting thought, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe's eyes narrow at your retort, a mix of frustration and amusement dancing in their depths. This is dangerous. You’re dangerous.

It’s hard to keep himself in check when he’s around you, but he promised Ward the gold, and right now, you’re his only hope. Even though he’s currently torn between kissing you or killing you.

“I'll give you credit,” Rafe says, a hint of admiration in his voice, “You sure know how to keep things interesting.”

Your response is a nonchalant shrug, but the sparks in your eyes tells him otherwise, “You want my help? Why don’t you beg for it? Oh, and while you’re at it, throw some of your daddy’s money in my bank account.”

Rafe's grin widens, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he steps closer. If he leans just a little more, he’d be kissing you right now.

"Beg? Sweetheart, you know I don't beg," He says, his voice low and teasing, "But I suppose I could entertain the idea for the sake of a good cause."

His words carry a dual meaning, and your eyes meet again in a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that underpin your connection.

"As for the money," Rafe adds, "How about a deal? Help me, and once we get our hands on that gold, you'll get a cut. Fair enough?"

Your expression remains guarded, but there's a flicker of consideration in your eyes. The offer hangs in the air, a tantalizing proposal that could change the course of your adversarial dance. The sun continues its descent, casting a shadow on the sandy canvas beneath your feet, as if mirroring the intricate dance of trust and deceit between you and the heir to the Cameron legacy.

“I don’t take scraps, Rafe.”

“Who said anything about scraps?” His voice is a low purr, an alluring undercurrent that weaves its way through the tension-laden air.

Rafe's proximity becomes almost unbearable, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating, creating a sensory whirlwind that further blurs the lines between animosity and desire.

You stand your ground, unwavering, even as his chest presses against yours, again. The physical closeness is a silent challenge, a test of your resolve in this intricate dance of power. For a moment, it feels like the world around you fades, leaving only the palpable energy that crackles between you and Rafe.

"What's the catch, Cameron?" You retort, your voice a defiant counterpoint to the magnetic pull. Your arms remain crossed, a shield against the vulnerability that threatens to break through the façade you've carefully constructed.

Rafe's grin persists, undeterred by your resistance.

"No catch. Just a partnership of mutual benefit. You help me get the gold, and we both walk away with what we want."

His words hang in the air, a tempting proposition that dangles on the precipice of danger.

“I don’t trust you.” You admit, your tone unwavering.

His gaze intensifies, a glint of sincerity breaking through the façade.

"Who gives a fuck about trust? Now…Gold, that's something you can believe in."

A pause hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken considerations.

The sea breeze carries with it the weight of possibilities, a delicate balance between betrayal and opportunity. The threat lingers in the air like an unspoken promise, and your words, delivered with a chilling calm, cut through the silence.

"If you fuck me over, it won't end well for you," Your tone slices through the air like a razor, "I know things that you or Ward wouldn't want the world to discover. Don’t play with fire, Rafe.”

His grin widens into a triumphant smile, "Fire's just another element, sweetheart. We're about to set the whole damn world ablaze."

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

after 737218 years…im back😭 let me know if you like this little blurb🫣 i might write more, i was itching to write something with rafe and a pogue reader but also a justascrazyashim! reader.

not sure when i’ll update my rafe one shot fanfiction😳 im kinda stuck in the plot but im sure something will come up soon! anyway thank you for reading and for still hanging around my page and liking my work. even though im not really posting anything at the moment, i just like to check in and also read other people’s work.

byee!

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mrsevans90 · 4 months

Text

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 10

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: smut (oral/m receiving), talks of period intercourse, detailed PTSD flashback, graphic death of character discussed, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Author's Note: This is a heavy chapter--- Big time PTSD flashback so consider yourself warned! Also, I purposely chose to not use characters in the flashback from the movie Sand Castle. I just didn’t want to kill off anyone’s fave character, so we are going to pretend this flashback was another mission from another deployment right before Sy retired not related to the movie. It was just easier for my conscious to write it that way.

Part 9

All night long I have nightmares about the war. I wake and try to reset myself like the therapist taught me with deep breathing, water, change of environment, etc.; but nothing is working. I maybe only get about 2 hours of sleep total and I’m exhausted. I still go on my run to try and exhaust myself even more so that maybe tonight I will pass out into a dreamless sleep. I try to fake enthusiasm for whatever Nana is rambling on about in her phone call to me on the way to work but I’m sure she can tell that I’m starting to spiral. Alex can tell that today is one of those days so he asks me if I’m good and when I grunt at him he keeps his distance. God, I’m an ass but I’m obviously not good and I just can’t talk to him about it. Nobody really understands except the boys that I was with when it happened and several of them are dead now. I’m supposed to be their leader and I feel like I should have my shit together. My nightmares continue to worsen throughout the week and I feel like I overcompensate by working harder or exerting myself in more difficult physical pursuits in hopes of tiring my body and my brain out. I forced myself to run four additional miles on Friday even though my leg quickly protested. I focused on pushing through the pain and ended up having to ice my leg after work.

Friday evening finally rolls around, and Emma shows up at the house as planned with a little overnight bag in tow and homemade banana pudding. I’m cooking us some chicken and veggies out back on the grill when she arrives and I feel like I calm a bit just being in her presence. She still looks absolutely adorable as she shows up wearing comfortable clothes-a tank top and soft shorts. I love that she’s feeling relaxed enough with me to just be her most authentic self. After we eat, I fill my belly up with her decadent dessert and I swear I see stars. She’s quite the chef; as if she needed any more of a direct line to my belly or my heart. Assuming she’s still on her period, I ask her if she’s feeling alright and she nods but doesn’t offer more. I suggest we get in bed and watch a movie and she gleefully agreed. We get all cozied up in bed and she chooses a rom-com to put on. Not my first choice, but I’ll do anything to make her smile like that. It’s nice having someone other than myself warm my bed. We fall asleep easily tangled in each other and I’m relieved that I have no nightmares. Maybe Emma is the cure to my nightmares? Or did I really succeed in tiring myself out enough that I slept too hard to dream. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Saturday morning. I wake up at my usual time and smile to myself at finally getting a decent night of sleep. I lay in bed watching my girl dream before I decide to get up and go for a run. If it’s the exercise that helped me sleep last night, I’m not going to miss the opportunity to do it again. I leave a little note on Emma’s nightstand and decide to only run two miles today so I don’t fuck up my leg more than I probably already have. When I get back home, Emma is still a mess of hair and sheets and I can tell that she never missed me. Her hair is halfway across her face, one of her breasts is almost spilling out of her twisted tank top, and the covers are tangled all in her legs which brings a smile to my face. For someone so effortlessly beautiful, she’s kind of a mess when she sleeps and I can’t help but find that to be one of the most endearing things ever. I attempt to take a quick shower and am surprised when ice cold hands wrap around my stomach as my eyes are closed under the spray of the water and I jump like a cat.

“Damn woman! Your hands are ice cubes.” I say as she laughs uncontrollably.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says as she hugs me from behind.

“I woke up and heard the shower running so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.”

“Always, join me Sugar. My favorite showers are the ones with you.” I tell her as I turn around to see her. She’s got her beautiful hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and I shift her so that the water runs down her body to warm her up. I spy her adjust the temperature higher and I can’t help myself.

“What is it with women taking showers equivalent to the heat of lava?” She smiles.

“We are colder than you are. Gotta warm up somehow.” She presses a sweet kiss to my lips before turning around and washing her body. I can’t help but stand there like a creep watching her but I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see her wet and soapy.

“I hope you don’t mind that I hijacked your shower.” She smiled sweetly.

“Darlin’, I was done anyway. Now I’m just here for the show.” I arch my eyebrow at her as she spies my obvious erection.

“Let me help you.” She seductively suggests.

“I can help us both.” I offer but she shakes her head.

“Still on my period.” She replies without making eye contact.

“So?”

“We can’t have sex when I’m on my period!” She looks completely shocked.

“Says who? You know, sex actually helps relieves cramps.”

“But..I might get blood on your…”

“Dick? What’s your point?”

“Isn’t that gross?”

“Sugar, I told ya, I’m a man. A little blood isn’t going to scare me off. Now if you’re not interested because you don’t feel well or you just don’t want too, I have no problem with that. But, if you’re not interested because you think I’m going to be grossed out or something, I promise I won’t be. You can have me anytime you want, Sweetness. There’s no pressure either way. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t mention it again.”

“Maybe give me some time to come around to the idea of it. I’ve never really considered it as an option.”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

“You are something else, Bear. You mean it when you said I can have you anytime I want?”

“Mmhmm.” I say as her fingertips trail down my abdomen and she wraps her hand around my throbbing cock.

“Can I taste you?”

“Always, but don’t feel like you have too. I’ll be alright if not.”

“I want too.” She says before pushing me towards the shower bench and taking me in her mouth. In no time at all, I’m coming down her throat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of my life. She has my legs trembling from the stimulation and I can’t help but caress her cheek and kiss her gently when I come back to reality.

“my EmKay.” I whisper as I kiss her tenderly.

“Your EmKay?” She asks.

“Mmhmm.”

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked to be yours.” She haughtily replies.

“Ya’ ain’t going to make this easy on me, are ya?” Shit, what am I doing. I should have thought this through. She shouldn't want to be with me. The unreal blowjob has me not thinking clearly.

“Now why would I do that?” She retorts with a smile. I palm her cheek so that she’s looking right at me.

“Will you be my woman?” I ask seriously. Fuck it. Why not?

“Only if you’re my man.”

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a bear, but I’ll be your man too.” I joke before pressing my lips against Emma’s in a feverish kiss.

As the water gets cold, we finally climb out and get dressed for the day. I decide to take Emma out for breakfast at the diner in town before we go in search of furniture for her guest bedroom. Her parents are arriving next weekend and it was adorable when she shyly asked me if I’d be willing to meet them. I assured her that I’d be happy too and to just let me know when.

We spend a few hours at the furniture store where Emma purchases a matching bedroom set before going to a mattress store and trying out all of the mattresses to determine which would be a good purchase for her guest bedroom. They are able to deliver it same day which is nice so we pick a time for it to arrive that afternoon. We then head to a department store so she can pick out curtains, bed linens, and other odds and ends that I’m told a room requires like lamps and decorations. Being a single man for the majority of my adulthood that was mostly away in the military, I didn’t realize how much work women put into buying all of this shit. Why does she need the guest bath towels to match the hand towel in the bathroom? Or all of the little knick-knack items she bought to go on the dresser? I’m even more confused when she was discussing bed trains? No bed skirts. I’ve slept on friends couches without even a blanket but she’s really rolling out the red carpet for her parents. It’s a bit concerning if they are expecting all of this from their daughter who has lived here for under two months. Maybe they don’t expect it and she’s just trying to show them that she’s a capable adult who plans on settling here. I watch as she spends a small fortune trying to get everything in order for their visit. It’s obvious that she values their opinions. What if they don’t like me? I’m certainly different from the preppy type of guy that they’re used to seeing her with. I’m kind of rough around the edges and although I think I’m pretty smart, I certainly don’t hold advanced degrees. I’m broken from my thoughts when Emma asks my opinion about curtains. It’s sweet that she wants my opinion but I’m a fish out of water when it comes to decorating.

We load up all of the stuff and head back to Emma’s house where I get started hanging curtains as we wait on the furniture and mattress delivery. Emma orders us pizza and we munch on pizza and beer for a while. I’m regretting all of my additional workouts after I finally get the bed put together and the mattress put on it. Emma tried to help but she’s so little I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I ended up just man-handling it myself. She had washed the new bedding and put everything together before we took a look at it and she dove across the top of the bed. Emma patted the space beside her and I laid down next to her on top of the comforter.

“I’m fucking exhausted and I didn’t even lift the heavy stuff.” She exhaled.

“I didn’t realize it was so much work to put together a bedroom. You sure know what you’re doing though.”

“Thank you. I just pick what I like. I couldn’t have done it all without you though, so thank you, baby. I can’t wait to have them visit and see that I’ve got my shit together here. That I’m not some dumb kid who needs rescuing. I’m able to handle myself.” Ahh, so I was right about that. It’s about proving herself to her parents.

“I think they’ll be impressed, Sugar. I know I am.” I smile at her before yawning.

She kisses my lips before scratching my beard gently.

“Can we go back to yours, shower and then go to sleep? I’m dead on my feet.” She asks as she stands up and fluffs the new pillows. Why are there like 5 pillows that will just get thrown on the floor? Seems wasteful.

“You still want to come back to mine with me?”

She nods. “I want to be with you and the pups. Since they are at yours, it wouldn’t make sense to get them and come back here. I always sleep really good with you…Unless you’re too tired for a sleep over.” She says sheepishly and I wrap my arms around her.

“Nothing could be better than having my girl in my bed with me.” I tell her because I’m beginning to believe it’s the truth. “Let’s go.”

We turn out all of the lights and lock up before heading back to mine. Emma’s car is still parked out front from where she left it and it makes me happy that she wants to be here with me. There’s a summer storm approaching and the wind has picked up which has Emma’s hair twirling in the breeze. I pull the patio cushions inside when I let the dogs out to do their business. After a quick shower because we are both too tired to do anything but clean ourselves, we do our nighttime routines before climbing into bed. Emma snuggles next to me with her head on my chest and I’m confident that it’s going to be a good night as we drift off to sleep.

It’s hot, but more than just hot. It’s sweltering. I can feel the sweat rolling down my chest and my back. It’s the type of unbearable heat that has your clothes sticking to your skin the instant you walk out of the mess hall. Then you add your gear, and the added weight from your gear plus your sweat soaked clothes is a certain feeling that I’ll never forget. I smell the smoke of an explosion further in the distance. We have our orders and it’s my job to lead our special forces team in to execute our orders exactly like planned. The problem with that is that most things never go as planned. It would be easy for this to be a cookie cutter mission where we get in and out and go back to base and fuck around for the rest of the afternoon. No, this will require me thinking on my feet at every turn. It’s what I’m trained for, hell, I’m the best which is why I’m the captain. I’ve got seven men with me whose lives rely on me assessing our situation and giving correct orders. They are sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends who have people waiting on them at home. Each order I give is weighted by the knowledge that I’m responsible for them. We’re crouched in different positions behind the old dilapidated building that the informant said our guy would be in. The sun is glaring across our faces but we’re in the best position we could be in for this mission. We’ve been after this specific hostile for months and never been this close to him before. We can hear men inside the building, yelling in Arabic and moving around so we must remain completely silent. If we can hear them, they could hear us. We are ghosts that can’t be seen or heard but must work as a team for this to go smoothly. If one person spots us, it will turn into a close-range gun fight that I can’t imagine we will all win. I inhale deeply and even though there is dust on every inch of myself and the ground, I try to focus my thoughts.

As I am about to give orders to direct my guys to move on to the next step of our plan, I hear the tell-tale whistle of a bullet zipping through the air. I swivel to the left with my gun and look for the insurgent. I can’t see anyone but the bullet buries itself in the left shoulder of Waites across the way from me. We were fucking set up. I swing my gun back around and that’s when it happens, I hear the bullet and feel it explode into my lower left thigh at the same time blood spews from my friend, Goodwin’s head who had crouched beside me when I stood to look for the shooter. My leg gives out and I instantly drop down into the dirt to where I’m level with Goodwin’s face and it’s obvious, he was killed instantly. His eyes are still opened and he has a massive wound to the head. Anthony. Fuck. His girlfriend is expecting a baby girl in a few months. My leg is burning from the inside out but my adrenaline spike helps me ignore the pain and I grab my gun and instantly start shooting towards the rooftop where I believe the sniper might be. I hear Brown screaming before I realize he’s got Waites against the building and is yelling into the radio for help. I watch as insurgents start coming out of the building we were casing and I start taking them out. Lowell goes down. Setas is either hurt or attempting to provide aid to Lowell. I can’t tell but I never stop shooting. Ramirez is also trying to find the source of the ambush with his own gun. Bullets are flying, many from my own gun as I empty the clip into the only building the sniper could have been on, Browns pleas for backup, along with Waites heavy gurgling breaths fill my ears. I feel a hand on my arm and flinch.

“Austin! Captain…Captain Syverson. Look at me.” Two hands on either side of my face help me focus in. “St..Stand down. You are safe, the threat has been eliminated. Your superiors have given orders to return to base for further instruction. Do you understand?”

I blink against the water that’s dripping down my face. Emma?

“My men. The injured men in my unit. Where?”

“They are at base getting medical. Captain, I need you to confirm that you understand me.”

I blink and then nod slowly. “Roger that.” I mutter distractedly. I look around. I’m in the backyard of my house, leaning against the brick exterior in my underwear. I have my pistol tucked in the back of the waistband of my boxers and I’m wearing the boots I leave by the back door. In my hands I’m clutching my old hunting rifle that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. Shit. I’ve done it again. I’ve had a PTSD nightmare, but this is so much worse because Emma is here to witness it. I look over at her. She’s crouching on her knees in front of me wearing nothing but my water-soaked t-shirt and panties while she’s barefoot in the mud. Water is dripping from the ends of her hair from the rain that’s pouring down on us. She looks terrified and concerned.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” My throat aches either from unshed tears or maybe I was yelling earlier.

“Austin, baby, are you back?”

I nod. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” I mutter as tears mix with the rain that drips down my face. This is what I was afraid would happen if I got close to her. If I let her in. I would relax and then my past would quite literally present itself.

“Baby, don’t be. You’re okay, we’re okay.” She tells me as she reaches towards my face that’s now aimed at the ground.

“Aika?”

“I left her inside. I know you said she could help but I wasn’t able to tell if your rifle was loaded and I didn’t want her startling you and there being an accident.”

Jesus. She was afraid I’d shoot my own dog, because she’s right, I was nowhere near my right mind. Here we are over six months since my last flashback yet this was the most involved PTSD episode I’ve ever had. Thank fuck I keep my ammunition locked and separate from my guns for situations like this.

She stands and reaches to help me up but I can’t let her help me stand. My leg feels as though it has been shot just yesterday but that could be a result of me crouching on my knees in freezing rain outside in the middle of the night, not just the psychological pain from my flashback.

“Come on baby.” She takes the rifle from my hand and I don’t protest. I follow her silently back to the house. The air conditioning on our soaked skin has both of our bodies covered in goose bumps. Aika bounds to me whining and crying and I sit down in a chair from the table and run my hands through her thick fur. I bury my face into her back and focus on breathing. My palm clutches my leg that’s radiating phantom pain from where I got shot. Emma appears next to me with a towel but hesitates.

“Can I help you clean up a bit?” She gestures with the towel.

I nod and she leans down and starts wiping the mud off of my legs.

“Sugar, I…”

“Baby, nothing needs to be said. I’m okay, and you are going to be. Would you take a warm shower with me?” I look at her and want to just burst into tears. How is she so kind and understanding after what I just did? After what I could have done?

“Please?” She urges and I nod. I follow her to the master bathroom and watch as she turns the water on. Aika stays close and sits down behind me in the bathroom floor. I have no idea what time it is in the night or early morning or how long she’s been awake dealing with me. Emma pulls out two fresh towels for us and then whips the sodden shirt off of her torso before removing her panties. She looks at me and then slowly and gently eases my soaked boxer briefs down my legs before taking my hand and pulling for me to get in the shower. Once I step in, steam surrounds me and I take a deep breath. I’m exhausted, flashbacks always take the energy out of me and it’s not like I’ve been sleeping great this past week. Emma begins lathering a wash cloth with soap and gently starts cleaning me. I stand there perfectly still and let her do what she wants as I attempt to think of anything that I could say to make this situation better. I’m aching with embarrassment. Once she washes me, she quickly washes herself before turning around and caressing her hand on my cheek. She leans down and picks up my wrists that were laying limp by my sides and wraps them around her waist before putting her own around my neck. My eyes are aimed down focusing on the suds swirling around the shower drain.

“Baby, look at me.” She says with the sincerest and worried look on her face and that’s when my resolve breaks. I bury my face into her neck as the hot tears stream from my eyes. I can’t seem to stop them and I ache when I hear myself let out a sob that sounds so painful and broken even to my own ears. Emma tightens her arms around me and guides me back to the bench that we once used for a much different form of intimacy. Emma curls herself around me and holds me tightly while I fully break down. Once my breath starts to come easier, I carefully pull my head from her shoulder and try to clean my face up.

“Let’s dry off and lay down.” She says as she turns off the water and starts toweling me off. I gently take the towel from her, not wanting to be babied but not wanting to seem ungrateful. Once we dry off, Emma hands me some boxers and she tosses on a dry shirt and panties on before we sit on the bed. It’s silent and I feel like I have to say something.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be thinkin’ but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, scared you and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I completely understand if this is the last time I see you.” I say quietly and she looks shocked.

“Austin, I’m not going anywhere. This is what relationships are about. Holding each other through the good and bad. I’m not scared and you’re not fucked up. You’re haunted and although I don’t know the details of it, I want to help you through it. Even if you don’t want my help, I’m not leaving you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should be better. I survived, Damnit! I shouldn’t have any problems. Goodwin, Lowell, Waites, they are the ones who died. I just got shot in my stupid fucking leg after leading them to their deaths!” I sob.

“You are allowed to have problems. Their deaths are hard on you but you are not responsible for it. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s not your fault.”

“The informant set us up, we were ambushed. Goodwin, God. Goodwin got shot right in front of me. I watched the life drain from his eyes. He has a little girl that he’s never met. If I had questioned the mission from my superiors or done more digging on the informant, they would all be alive right now. I had to look at their family members at their funerals and I’ll never forget the grief from their loved ones. Goodwin’s pregnant girlfriend, Lowell’s widow, Waites’ mom. I still see them sobbing over their caskets in my mind. I didn’t deserve to live when they didn’t get too.” I finally say out loud. I take deep breaths attempting to calm my body from going into another spiral.

“Bear.” Emma reaches for me.

“It’s been years and I still get like this. Hell, it might be getting worse. I don’t think this is something I’ll just get over. I’m too fucked up, Emma. You deserve someone who doesn’t have these types of demons.” My eyes blink heavily.

“You are not fucked up. I deserve you because you treat me better than I’ve ever been treated before.” My eyes droop and I know it’s a result of the flashback. When I have them, my body goes through the trauma all over again so when the adrenaline finally stops coursing through my body, I basically crash.

“Love, you look exhausted. Can you try to sleep for me?” She asks and gently pushes for me to lay down. My head is resting between her breasts as she lays back on her back. We’ve never laid like this before but it’s comforting.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Aika’s here and so is Mills.” She tells me while caressing my head but my eyes are already closed, too heavy to fight staying open longer. I wrap my arm around her waist and within moments, I’m deeply asleep soothed by the steady rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat as she caresses my scalp.

Part 11

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

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seattlesolace · 9 months

Text

there for you // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: human!jay x guardian angel!fem!reader

summary: Jay is the boy you were tasked to guard, and guide, for life. you follow him through all stages of his youth, but what happens when he reaches a certain age and you start to develop... feelings?

genre: fluff, fantasy // warning: profanity, mentions of bullying

word count: ~5.3k

author's note: welcome to seattlesolace, and welcome to another fantasy-related content.

works regarding guardian angels have always been my favorite type of thing to read, so this is my spin on it. no, y/n doesn't have wings, and the type of guarding she does is more on the emotional side, but I do hope you like this one since it does bring me a little comfort when I reread it.

the song inspiration for this fic is below:

it was the song that Jungkook used in his GCF video and for some reason it kept playing in my head, and when I read the lyrics it was definitely giving me guardian angels vibes... so that's how this fic was made! for now, enjoy 🤍

When he was 8

When you’re screaming, but they only hear you whisper I’ll be there for you

“Park Jongseong!”

Jay blinked as he struggled to wake up at the sound of his nagging mother. It was 7 AM. He looked around his room before blinking several more times and then closing his eyes shut again.

The door flung open and his mother barged in. Holding a spatula on one hand, she patted Jay with the other hand and tried her best to lower her voice.

“Jay, you’re gonna be late. Come on, you have to get ready for school.”

“I don’t wanna go,” said Jay in a sulky voice.

His mother frowned. “Why?”

Jay remained silent. He’d rather keep his mouth shut than telling his mother and getting embarrassed all over again.

“Look, whatever is going on, you have to get it together or else your father is going to throw another lecture about the importance of education. Now I have to go finish breakfast. You better be ready by the time the food is served, okay?”

Jay’s mother ruffled her son’s hair as she left the room, leaving the door open on purpose. As Jay tossed and turned throwing a silent fit, he noticed the figure standing by the door.

“Noona?”

You smiled widely and entered the room, sitting on the edge of Jay’s bed. Jay automatically sat up and straightened himself.

“You need to listen to your mother,” you said, calmly.

Jay pouted. “But you know what happened the other day at school.”

You nodded. “I do. And I loved what you did.”

“Telling off a bully made me become the target of bullying. I didn’t see it coming,” Jay was now fully awake, fighting off yawns.

“It will get better,” you straightened the wrinkles on your white dress.

“How?”

“If you refuse to go to school, that just shows how much you are afraid of them. Don’t ever let them know about your fear. Don’t even feel afraid.”

For a boy his age, he knows that all the things you just said made sense. It was cliché, even. But it still didn’t convince him to go to school.

“I don’t care what people think about me,” he said, finally, after seconds of silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “You are a paradox. You stood up for the poor girl in class, and then you get bullied, and you don’t wanna go to school, and now you think you don’t care what people think about you, but at the same time you are still refusing and---“

“Okay! Okay, Noona! I will go to school if you stop talking,” Jay got out of his bed and snatched the towel hanging on his chair.

You laughed. “See you later?”

“See you later!”

When he was 17

I can’t do this alone Sometimes I just need a light

Jay kicked the little stones and made traces of lines in the sand. He took the lollipop he was eating and used the stick to write down something. He heard footsteps coming from behind him. When he turned around, you were already standing there, in your white dress, strands of hair falling off from your messy bun.

“Took you long enough,” murmured Jay.

You placed a hand over your chest, acting offended. “Some attitude?”

“I called for you 15 minutes ago, you usually respond within a minute,” Jay clearly looked disappointed. You sighed.

“I’m sorry. I had some stuff to take care of…”

“Another 17-year-old with romance problems?” asked Jay.

You tilted your head and chuckled. “No, some paper problems regarding the new recruitment for guardian angels. So, what is up with you?”

“There is this girl I like…”

“Okay, not the first,” you sat down on the bench as you listened to Jay who was still on his feet, playing with the sand.

“But I don’t know if I should tell her.”

You observed the teenage boy in front of you. His cap covered half his face, his loose tee and his wide-fit shorts made him look more mature than his age.

Noticing no response from you, Jay coughed. “Aren’t you cold?”

You realized Jay was referring to the fact that you wear the same white dress all the time and only change outfits whenever you were showing yourself to the real world.

“Angels don’t get cold, don’t worry.” You smiled. “Okay, so you like her. How much?”

Hearing this question, Jay’s lips form into a wide smile. It made you smile, too.

“A lot.”

“What do you like about her?”

“Almost… everything? Why are you asking me this, you know exactly who she is. You pop up at school like every day,” Jay got tired and sat down beside you.

“I know exactly what she’s like,” you leaned on the bench and stared at the stars. “But I want to know what she looks like, painted with the words from your mouth.”

Jay laughed shyly. “I didn’t know you were poetic.”

“I’m not, but you are,” you looked at Jay and elbowed him. “Go on. Answer.”

“Noona.”

“What?”

“Do I really have to? It’s embarrassing,” Jay covered his face with his two hands.

You gasped in surprise. “Embarrassing?? Nothing is embarrassing about love. What’s embarrassing is watching you grow up from the chubby 3-year-old who runs around the backyard, naked, become a sophisticated, academic-award-winning 17-year-old who doesn’t even know how to talk to girls.”

“Speaking of ages…” Jay turned around to face you. He had one leg up the bench so he could really face you.

“Don’t change the subject,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve never really asked but I want to know. How old are you?” Jay stared at you, full of curiosity.

“I’m just a little over a thousand years old—“

“Not your angel age, like your human age, this figure, right now?” Jay poked you slightly to confirm his question. You felt a buzz.

“Well, um,” you did not even think for once that you would become flustered. “I’m probably in my mid-20s? Like 25? 26?”

Jay observed you in detail. It made you a tad bit giddy.

“Stop staring,” you said, shoving Jay’s face away.

Jay complained. “Not fair! You watch me sleep all the time.”

“No, I don’t. And if you say it like that, it sounds creepy.”

“But you do. Nothing in my room is white. So, if I see something white it’s definitely you.”

“What if it’s a ghost?”

Jay scoffed, sounding slightly scared. “Don’t say that.”

“Yet you are talking to me now,” you stared back at Jay, challenging him. Jay sighed and held up his hands.

“Fine. But you’re not a ghost. I believe in you because you’ve always been there for me. Now please give me advice, I am lost,” Jay leaned back to the bench after emphasizing the last word and accidentally knocked his cap off.

You caught his cap and put it on your head. Jay laughed at the sight of this.

“First of all, you need to determine whether or not you really need to confess. What’s the aim of your confession? Just to let her know? To date her? To find out if she feels the same? If the aim is to just let yourself be free of the burden that is your feelings, that is quite a selfish move. I suggest you don’t confess.”

Jay blinked and turned to you. “Wow. That was first of all?”

“Second of all,” you said as you chuckled and shoved Jay’s face away. “You need to weigh the situation. Once you’ve decided to confess, you really need to make sure of the place and time of your confession. Would you want to do it at the university? In a café? In class? Whatever. Make sure you do what she likes—“

“We’re not into that stage yet—“

“I mean NOT SEXUALLY!” you raised your voice. Jay burst out laughing and almost choked on his lollipop.

“Go choke some more,” you stood up, feeling a bit fed up.

Jay held your hand to stop you from walking away, even though he knew you could just poof and evaporate to oblivion because you had done that several times. But this time, you stayed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “you may proceed.” Jay scooted to let you sit beside him again.

“The last,” you sat back down and smoothed out your dress. “Is to prepare for the worst. Looking at you like this,” you made a gesture at Jay, judgingly. “She might not accept your confession.”

“Hey!” Jay was clearly offended, but he smiled as he complained. “Am I really that bad?”

“You know why I came late?”

“Why?”

“Because I asked for a substitute to be your guardian while I find a different person who causes less trouble—“

Jay nudged you as you broke into laughter. “Bullshit. You love me.”

“Ha!” you scoffed. I really do. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes, please.”

“If she does not accept your confession, then it’s okay. You want to cry? Fine. You want to binge-eat? Fine. But like I said back then when you were dealing with bullies, don’t let it show. Don’t let your disappointment show, don’t let your sadness show. Don’t even be angry because she has the right to turn you down if she doesn’t like you back.”

“Wow,” Jay looked at you in awe.

“I know right,” you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’m stunning at night.”

“You sound so wise, I almost believed you when you said you were in your mid-20s,” Jay shook his head and took his cap back.

“Well, how old do you think I should be given this amount of wisdom?”

“At least 50—ouch!”

You pinched Jay’s arm really hard to the point that his first cry of shock gradually turned into genuine screams of pain. You almost died of silent laughter.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay if you get rejected?” you asked, looking concerned.

Jay took a deep breath. “Of course I’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

You sat in brief silence for a moment.

“I mean, you can use your superpowers to find other girls for me, right?” Jay flashed a sweet smile to you, his signature lopsided smirk.

“In your dreams, you boob,” you snickered, flicking Jay’s cap off his head.

When he just turned 23

But I’m holding on to something Won’t let go of you for nothing I’m running just to keep my hands on you

Your eyes widened at the sight of food being served in front of you. Sitting across from you is Jay, clearly not feeling the same excitement.

“Oh, please, cheer up!” you said as you handed him a pair of chopsticks. “You’re not in the mood for seafood?”

Jay shook his head and fixed his beanie.

“Well, tough, because I feel like eating some seafood and I’m paying,” you started stirring the seafood stew that was boiling, but then your smile faded when you didn’t get a reaction from Jay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting the ladle down. “Do you want to order something else?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jay answered without missing a beat. “It’s just that…”

He fell silent and blankly stared at the food before shifting his eyes to you.

“You’re thinking about her?” you asked, knowingly. Jay nodded.

You put both your elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

“You know already.”

“No, I don’t. I stopped following you on your dates since I got caught once and you told me off,” you said in defense. “And I’m still sorry for that, by the way.”

Jay shot a weak smile. “We’re in a fight. Or at least, I think we are. She doesn’t even take it seriously.”

You have been observing Jay’s first serious relationship for over 2 years. It was the same girl Jay confessed to when he was 17, except back then, he got rejected.

“What happened?” you asked. “Also, do you mind if I listen while eating?”

Jay shook his head and told you to help yourself. As you listened to his story, you carefully took out pieces of seafood onto your plate as well.

“She has a lot of friends. Male friends. And when I say a lot, I mean it,” said Jay who was now playing with his chopsticks.

“And it bothers you?”

“What kind of boyfriend wouldn’t be bothered?” Jay almost snapped the chopsticks. You had to carefully hold his hand down.

“Lower your voice, Jay,” you hushed. Jay mouthed ‘sorry’.

“She has no boundaries, Noona. She hangs out with them almost all the time. She even shares affectionate terms and nicknames with one of them that I dislike the most.”

You stopped stirring your food and shifted your eyes to his face.

“Whenever I call her or talk to her it feels rather rushed, like a squeezed-in business meeting.”

You paused eating for a while as you gathered your thoughts. She sounds like an awful person.

“Jay, I’m gonna ask you something.”

Jay blinked at the change of tone in your voice. “What?”

“From the beginning of your relationship, did you ever think you would last this long?”

Jay took a deep breath and rested his elbows on the table, propping his head up with both his hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he answered after taking a couple of seconds to think.

“Alright, let me ask another thing. Have you ever thought, during your relationship, that you give more than you take—“

“Yes.”

You were slightly shocked at the answer.

“That didn’t take me long to answer, huh?” Jay noticed the surprise on your face.

“That’s… a problem, Jay,” you looked into his eyes with a sad gaze. She doesn’t deserve you.

Before you were able to resume your thoughts, an old lady came by your table and served a second dish.

“We didn’t order this—“ said Jay.

“Oh, we did! Thank you, auntie!”

Jay smiled at the old lady before looking at you in confusion. “We didn’t?”

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of seafood, so here’s your meat. Now, tell me everything so I can give you the proper advice.”

You were looking down at your bowl, devouring the seafood stew that was now completely yours. As he picked up his chopsticks, he smiled and mumbled a ‘thank you’ before joining to eat.

---

“You broke two rules.”

You fixed the glasses sitting on your nose as you leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N, I’ve told you many times before. Before you were even assigned to this boy.”

“Man,” you corrected.

“Fine, ‘man’,” said the guy in front of you as he fixed his nametag which read Jung Hoseok.

You sighed. “Okay, what did I do wrong?”

Hoseok was sifting through the papers when he glanced up at you and blinked. “You really want me to tell you?”

You shrugged.

Hoseok cleared his throat. “Okay, you violated his personal life by interfering with his romantic relationships—“

“I didn’t do anything wrong—“

“And! You developed feelings for him.”

Hearing the second point, you fell silent. Hoseok looked at you and took out a pen from his jacket.

“It’s not like we don’t know, Y/N,” said Hoseok in a lower voice. “I actually expected more from you.”

You looked back at Hoseok. As a guardian angel who had been doing your job for just ten years more than the man in front of you, you felt slightly ashamed. Hoseok had achieved so much in so little time that this scene where you were being scolded by someone of a higher position despite less experience did not feel bad.

Hoseok looked around at the empty café that he cleared out for this special meeting. At the door, Hoseok’s assistant was standing straight, guarding the entrance.

“Alright,” you finally spoke up. “What’s my penalty? A year off? Desk job at the headquarters for like, three months?”

Hoseok frowned. “Y/N, the rule you violated deserves a penalty that is much… worse than just a desk job.”

“What? I’m fired forever?” You were genuinely clueless since you had never broken a rule before, thus never acknowledging or studying the guide on guarding that had been constantly renewed every now and then.

“You’re becoming human,” said Hoseok, firmly.

You fell silent, but not for long. “Okay. Okay, I’m gonna be mortal. No big deal—“

“And memories of him will be erased, the same works for him,” Hoseok continued.

You scoffed. “You mean, he won’t remember me?”

Hoseok nodded. “Neither will you.”

“Hoseok, please—“

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

You stared at the paper and the pen that Hoseok had readied. You remained still like that for a couple of seconds before you felt your eyes tearing up, and you decided to wipe your tears before they fell and embarrass you further.

“So, we get punished for loving people now?” you asked. “So much for being angels.”

Hoseok pushed the paper forward for you to sign as you reached for the pen. “That’s exactly my point, Y/N. We’re angels.”

You signed the paper which signified the end of your contract.

“We don’t feel,” said Hoseok as he pushed another folder to you, containing important documents.

“This is your identity, you will find everything you need to know about the human world and becoming human. Your age stays the same as now, but once you walk out that door,” Hoseok pointed to the guard at the entrance. “You will become human, and you’re gonna start aging.”

You peeked into the files that were now in your hands. “Does this mean I won’t be able to see you, too?”

Hoseok smiled as he tidied up all the loose papers. “I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.”

You let out a deep sigh and stood up. You walked over to Hoseok’s side as he got out of his chair, too.

“It’s been a pleasure, Hope,” you said, calling him by his code name. Hoseok shook your hand for a second before pulling you into a hug.

“Don’t be a bitch,” he said, followed by a laugh. You smacked his back before pulling away.

“Wait, if I’m becoming human, does that mean I’m gonna get a guardian assigned to me too now?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed, thinking hard.

Hoseok was genuinely confused for two seconds. “That is a really good question. I’m gonna have to check later at the headquarters.”

The two of them stood still before Hoseok’s phone started to ring. The boss was calling.

“I gotta take this. Best of luck to you, Y/N.”

You took two steps forward and hugged Hoseok one last time. “Thanks, mate.”

“Don’t forget your files,” Hoseok pointed to the folder before answering the phone. “Hello? Yes, Sir—“

Your ears canceled out the conversation immediately as your heels started clicking, making your way to the entrance. You gave the guard a warm smile before he opened the door for you.

The moment you stepped out of the door you completely felt blank. You knew your name, and how old you were, but you didn’t have a grasp of why you were there and where you were heading.

“Wait,” you murmured to yourself as you opened your files. You started reading the papers as you made your way to the sidewalk.

You weren’t even that far away from the shop you exited when suddenly a young man, who was rushing behind you, bumped into you, making you lose your balance.

“Oh, shit!” The young man exclaimed as he gathered the files that flew from your hands before making his way to you to help you up. “I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

You were fine, you thought to yourself, as you slipped back into your heels. However, as you looked up to see the man who caused this ruckus, you felt a heavy weight on your chest.

It was Jay.

“Miss, are you hurt?” He asked one more time, being extremely polite not to touch you anywhere, but making sure he did not leave you out of his sight.

“I’m… fine,” you answered clutching your chest. You felt the extreme weight getting even more painful.

“Look, I’m actually really in a hurry, so forgive me if I leave you here?” Jay offered his hand to help you up, but you declined. “Um, here are your papers. Again, I’m so sorry.”

You forced a smile, half in pain and half confused as to why you were feeling such discomfort. “That’s okay.”

“Alright,” Jay straightened his beanie and wiped the dust off his sweatshirt. “Have a safe flight!” he said, before running off again.

“Flight?” you muttered as you checked the files. Amongst all the papers, the one that was in the front was a printed e-ticket, a flight to New York departing in seven hours.

One year later

I got you, I promise Let me be honest

For the first couple of months you were in New York, everything felt magically easy for you. It took you no time to get a job and settle at a place that was relatively a reach for common New Yorkers. Your career somehow sped up and you were running the fashion division in a local but well-known magazine. You were making friends here and there, networking with a lot of people who would lead you to meet famous people and collaborate with celebrities you never knew you had a chance to meet.

Until one fine day, you felt a slight pain in your chest.

“Unnie, are you feeling unwell?”

Yoon, the company’s photographer, noticed you sitting on the bar stool, clutching your chest.

“I think it’s just my asthma. I’m gonna go grab my Ventolin,” you reassured Yoon before leaving the studio.

As you exited to the hallway, two of your coworkers immediately started walking by both sides.

“Y/N, schedule,” said Julian, handing over an iPad.

“Do you think these photos are okay?” On her left, Robin, was holding another iPad and scrolling through different photos from the shoot.

Your pain was growing even more as you reached the end of the hallway. “Hold on,” you held up one hand and Julian and Robin both stopped chirping.

“Are you okay?” asked Robin.

“You must be nervous about the upcoming shoot,” said Julian.

“What shoot?”

“That is exactly what I am here for. Schedule, Y/N,” Julian tapped the iPad in your hand and pointed to an area that read ‘PJS shoot’.

Julian and Robin looked at each other and smiled. “Isn’t it amazing? The founder of PJS Collection himself is coming over for New York Fashion Week and our magazine is one of the first to schedule a shoot and an interview with him. Dope, right?”

You looked at Robin with a confused face. “PJS Collection?”

“Park Jong Seong. Oh my God, Y/N, you work in fashion. How do you not know him?” Julian was starting to show sass.

And again, you felt the unbearable pain in your chest.

“Great, okay, you know what? I feel really under the weather right now so please bombard me with questions in about… two more hours, okay?”

And with that you disappeared into your office, leaving Julian and Robin looking at each other with their iPads in their hands.

---

“Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Isa put her cup of tea down as she fixed her gaze on you. It was in the afternoon, and you had time to kill before meeting with a client.

“I don’t know, it comes and goes. I’d like to think it’s nothing serious,” you brought your hand to your chest to make sure you weren’t feeling anything at that moment.

“Well, you did use the word ‘unbearable’, so that seems pretty serious to me,” Isa looked really concerned, but you waved her off.

“It’s the type of unbearable that becomes bearable, like, I don’t know, period cramps?”

Isa chuckled and proceeded to ask you a whole lot of questions about your job. After talking and refilling their pot of tea two times, an hour passed by. Isa checked her phone and found several chats from some people.

“Listen, good luck with the project. I gotta go see Yoon now,” said Isa, squeezing your hands and sliding in a couple of bills for her share of the tea time snacks.

“Thanks, Isa,” you smiled and waved goodbye, setting your eyes on Isa until she left the place. You sighed and stirred your cup of tea. You didn’t believe it at first, but as time went by, you felt your heart beating faster.

“I really need to schedule a check-up,” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your phone.

“Miss L/N?”

You almost lost your grip on your phone when you heard the voice behind you. You turned around and almost clutched your chest again if not for your gesture to shake hands with the person in front of you. The handshake lasted for a second, but you felt a flashback that was vivid if only it lasted a bit longer.

“Mr. Park, I presume?” you tried not to waver at the images in your head.

“Just Jay, please,” Jay’s eyes disappeared behind his smile. You could almost hear your chest pounding.

“Have a seat, Jay,” you welcomed your client warmly, trying to dismiss the pain. Maybe if I don’t think about it, I won’t feel it.

“Can I just say,” Jay said immediately after he sat down and thanked the waiter for bringing a new set of cups. “You look oddly familiar.”

You frowned as you poured tea into your own cup. “That’s strange.” I bet my reaction is more abnormal.

“Or maybe you look like someone I used to know… wait, was that offensive? I am so sorry,” Jay started babbling apologies and excuses and you found it weirdly adorable.

“No, it’s okay, I get that a lot. It’s a pleasure to be working with you! I found out your line is quickly getting recognition from where you come from?”

Jay smiled proudly, but was humble. “Yes, it is, thank you for saying that.”

You noticed that you couldn’t feel the pain as long as you continued to listen to Jay’s voice, so that was exactly what you did.

“Could you tell me more about the concept you’re going for in fashion week?”

---

You made your way through Central Park, trying to find out where exactly Jay was waiting for you. He mentioned that he wanted ‘to make it more fun’ and that he thought it was ‘cute’ to make you search for him. But he said it all through chat and proceeded to update his Instagram story which spoiled the hiding place. You almost wanted to type FOOL into his DMs.

“How did you know I’m here?” Jay stood up from the bench he was sitting on, eyes widened in amazement.

“I follow you on Instagram, genius,” you chuckled as you saw the sudden realization creeping up on Jay’s face. “You look great.”

Jay smiled. It was so typical of you – completely slandering him one second and showering him with compliments right after. Jay thought it was not normal to get all giddy from a compliment on a first date; technically you have been meeting several times since fashion week, but only now agreeing on calling this hang-out a ‘date’.

“I dressed up so you can take a picture for my ToJays Fashion collection,” said Jay, matter-of-fact-ly.

You pouted. “Is that why you wanted to hang out with me? So you can have a free professional photographer?”

Jay had his hands up. “Hey, your words, not mine.”

You scoffed and proceeded to walk away. Jay quickly caught up with you and you chatted as you both strolled around the park.

At this point, you were used to the abnormal feeling in your chest. You had associated it with Jay, and you thought of it as a good feeling. You forced yourself to believe that if other people felt butterflies in their stomachs, then you would feel a set of dumbbells on your chest whenever you meet a person you potentially like.

And you liked Jay a lot.

The two of you made your way past the lake, walking down the path between green fields and people sprawled on them, enjoying the beautiful weather. Sometimes your hands would brush against one another, and it bothered you not because you didn’t want to touch Jay, but because you were constantly having flashbacks. And this time, it became more vivid.

“Y/N.”

Jay decided to call on you once he noticed you staring blankly at the path in front of you.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sit down?”

You figured it was best to follow Jay’s words and as you both sat down, you moved closer towards Jay and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Do you mind?” you asked. Jay shook his head and smiled.

“You know we can always go to a coffee shop, or a bookstore, if walking around is too tiring for you?” Jay’s voice sounded even deeper now that you had your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t answer. Jay started feeling very concerned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Jay. His tone softened. Your heart ached.

“I’m al—“

You couldn’t finish your sentence because Jay intertwined his fingers with yours. You didn’t let go even after several seconds, and you started to close your eyes.

That’s when everything came back to your memories.

Jay’s cry, his laughter when he was little. All the episodes where he was sulking in his room, having his mother coax him out of bed.

When Jay turned seventeen, and all his friends gave him a surprise as you watched from outside of class, and on the same day his first love broke his heart.

When they erased your memory and you bumped into him right after, unaware that Jay was actually rushing to the place you were supposed to meet.

That one particular night at the playground when you wore his cap and realized for the first time that you were in love with the boy you were supposed to guard.

Your head jerked up as you let go of Jay’s hand, and you brought your hand to your chest. You stood up slowly and turned to Jay.

Jay had his head down. He moved his fingers, the same fingers that were intertwined with yours just seconds ago. When he looked up, you knew that he remembered, too.

“Y/N…”

Jay stood up straight and faced you. You weren’t sure how to react, or what to say. Was it weird that you are now together miles away from home? Was it appropriate, knowing the history that you have? Does he love you back?

“You were always there for me.”

Jay looked you in the eyes. Your brown eyes were showing a hint of gold with the reflection of the sun. You blinked as you felt your eyes glistening, starting to feel the warmth of your tears. You brought your hands up to cover your face. To avoid seeing you cry, Jay pulled you into his embrace. As he wrapped his arms around you, he whispered.

“And now I can be here for you, too.”

You brought your hands around Jay’s neck as he hugged you tight. The pain was gone now. The flashbacks disappeared too, replaced with vivid memories. Jay smiled as he buried his face in your neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” He asked as he pulled away to see you, but not taking his arms away from your waist.

“I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Is it okay now?” asked Jay.

You nodded and smiled.

“Are you going to leave again?” Jay’s tone changed and became mellow.

You shook your head. “Not unless I find someone better, but I doubt that.”

Jay laughed softly and ran his fingers through your hair. “Oh, one more thing.”

You tilted your head, a gesture of asking.

“How old are you now?”

You chuckled and hit Jay’s shoulder gently. “I’m 25.”

“Great. Still a noona to me,” Jay leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead before pulling you in for another giant hug, and silencing your complaints.

-END-

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