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papiliotao · 1 year

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・❥・BEAUTY AMIDST AN ENDLESS NIGHT

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli

♡ — Synopsis: on days where you feel as though the world is against you, your lover is there to cheer you up.

♡ — Content: fluff, modern AU, established relationship, generally soft

♡ — Word Count: around 200 per a character

♡ — A/N: the fact that I wrote this solely because I get sad for no reason sometimes. I'm sure there are people out there who can relate though. For anyone going through tough times, stay strong and keep going! I hope this fic will be able to cheer you up a little. (P.S. the parts for each character are arranged in alphabetical order if you're looking for anyone specific)

As your boyfriend, it is both ALBEDO’s duty and pleasure to remind you how much you mean to him whenever melancholic feelings of dread weigh your heart down. You watch as he flips through the pages of a worn sketchbook sitting in his small art studio within your shared home. It is filled with the most wondrous portraits of landscapes, wildfires, and even people. However, Albedo completely disregards those works. Instead, he opts to point out particularly detailed drawings strewn throughout the sketchbook. Intersecting lines form picturesque depictions of the memories you share with Albedo. On one page, your first date. On another, your first night together. But it is the final page he shows you that causes you to raise an eyebrow at him. It seems to resemble a rather average day in your life. In the sketch, you and Albedo are conversing in a mundane setting; there’s really nothing special to be seen. When you ask your boyfriend about it, he allows a gentle laugh to escape the confines of his lips. Then, he points out all the finer complexities of the work. From the lovestruck expression on his face to the way he flawlessly replicated your every feature, you begin to realize how much Albedo thinks about you on a daily basis. Upon reaching this epiphany, the feelings of insecurity and bitter frustration that have been permeating every inch of your mind dissipate ever so slightly, and it’s all thanks to Albedo’s love.

On days where it feels as though you’re drowning in a sea of your own sadness, you are thankful for your lover’s relaxed demeanour. ALHAITHAM’s voice is the only sound that cuts through the tangible silence permeating the air of your living room. He recites complicated words adorning the pages of one of his rather verbose books as you sit beside him, leaning against his muscular figure. Although you can’t understand half the phrases that leave his lips, you feel at ease. His calm voice lulls you into a dreamlike trance, acting as a temporary ailment to the negative emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. So instead of paying heed to the disturbing feelings of deep melancholy that plague your fragile heart, you direct all your attention to the alluring sound of your loving speaking and the feeling of his body pressed against your own, allowing yourself to get lost in every single intricacy of his mannerisms — the very subtleties that you love him for.

Everything about today has felt rather off. Happiness eludes you, avoiding you like an ancient plague, causing feelings of unadulterated sorrow to bubble up within the depths of your soul. Although you’re trying to conceal all your woes behind a carefully-crafted mask of smiles and feigned lighthearted laughter, your facade is akin to porcelain — delicate and fragile, cracking under the slightest pressure. And to no one’s surprise, KAZUHA is able to see through your meticulously-designed illusion of exuberance instantaneously. The subtle sighs and breaks in your expression prompt him to drag you to bed as soon as you’re finished with your daily tasks under the guise that he wants to cuddle. In reality, he knows that you’re having a rather difficult time, and he wants nothing more than to hold you and kiss the pain away, so as of now, you are wrapped in his warm embrace as he continuously presses his soft lips to the back of your neck. His snowy hair tickles your skin as he comforts you, and between each chaste kiss, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, assuring you that tomorrow, the sun will rise again, giving way to a brighter day full of ecstasy and warmth.

Some days you can’t help but feel as though the world has been obscured by veils of endless blue. Everything feels mundane, and you just can’t bring yourself to smile. Thankfully, even in moments as perturbed as these, you are able to seek a small bit of solace by confiding in SCARAMOUCHE. To others, he seems brash and insensitive, but when it comes to you, he is attentive beyond measure. So when signs of melancholy begin to show through the cracks in your demeanour, your lover drops what he is doing and turns his focus to you. He insists on taking you out to a mysterious location, and although skepticism floods your thoughts, you eventually give in, agreeing to trust Scaramouche despite his enigmatic musings. Your boyfriend drives you to a quaint location situated in the middle of nowhere by the light of the setting sun. As you exit his car, you are greeted by the scent of the evening air, refreshing and cool, just what you need after a long day of feeling down. Scaramouche intertwines his fingers with yours, grasping onto you like a lifeline. He pulls you through a sparse line of trees, and although the darkness of the night obscures your vision, you trust your lover to guide you. When you clear the grove of vegetation, you are met with a sight that causes your breath to catch in your throat. Scaramouche has brought you to a cliff in a secluded area overlooking the city. Millions of stars adorn the velvety royal blue of the night sky, illuminating the world below, and the lights that glitter from the distant urban area fill you with a sensation of nostalgic ease. As you sit down on the soft grass beside Scaramouche, a sense of calm washes over you. Here, beside your lover and under the watchful gaze of the luminous celestial bodies up above, you finally feel at peace.

Amidst restless hours filled with uncertainty and unwanted negativity, THOMA is like an effulgent light piercing through the darkness that clouds your mind. He caters to your every need, doing anything your heart desires in order to remedy your pain even the slightest bit. Right now, he is standing in front of the stove, his back to you as he attentively prepares a meal. A mouthwatering fragrance drifts through the air as he cooks, and the warmth that fills the kitchen from the stove melts the icy cage of sadness surrounding your heart ever-so-slightly. When Thoma finally finishes, he plates the food in a meticulous manner and then shifts all his attention to you. The steam from the fresh meal caresses your cold cheeks as your lover peers deep into your eyes, displaying to you a wondrous sea full of olive green lights as you lock gazes. Before you can thank him for making dinner, Thoma leans over the table and presses a tender kiss against your cheek — one filled with all the gentleness and comfort of the sun on hazy winter days, making even the harshest of stinging winds just a little more bearable.

Whenever the world seems grey, shrouded in the gloominess plaguing your heart, TIGHNARI never fails to restore the beauty of the vibrant hues around you by bringing you bright bouquets of delicate flowers. Vivacious translucent petals tickle your nose as you breathe in the floral scent of the blossoms you are holding in your hands. The perfumed aroma that fills the air causes the tension in your shoulders to relieve slightly. A sigh of contentment escapes your lips as Tighnari takes the flowers from you and places them in a vase. His fingertips brush against your hands, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. In a hushed voice, he begins to explain the symbolism behind each plant in the bouquet. From blush pink azaleas to the fragile and pure lily of the valley, your lover knows of the meanings behind each floret, listing them off one by one. You know that the only reason he’s rambling on and on is to distract you from the thoughts that wrack your restless mind, and for that, you are beyond thankful.

When VENTI first proposes the idea of going on a picnic, hesitance overtakes you. You know he’s just trying to cheer you up, but you’re not quite sure if you’re in the mood to go out. Nonetheless, he manages to convince you that leaving the confines of your house to breathe in the crisp, late spring air and surround yourself with the viridescent foliage of the outdoors will work wonders for your mood, so you allow him to drag you to the park, albeit somewhat begrudgingly. When you arrive at your destination, Venti sets a blanket down on the lush grass, and atop the checkered quilt, he places a weaved basket. Upon opening the basket, you discover that it is filled with all your favourite delectable treats, so despite the bitterness of the day, a small smile settles on your face. As you begin to grin, Venti sings you a song, imbuing each lyric with softness and tenderness, conveying to you that even in the darkest of hours, he will always be by your side. The wind tousles your hair as the sound of leaves rustling in a gentle zephyr rings out like a backing track to Venti’s angelic voice. For the first time that day, you feel a sense of ease settle over you.

XIAO isn’t great at comforting people, but each time he sees your empty expression, he feels his heart shattering into countless fractured crystal shards. Despite knowing that he’s not the most qualified to help you deal with your worries, you still decide to go to him to seek consolation, so in spite of the fact that he is rather inexperienced, Xiao tries his best. He tells you to rest and immediately tucks you into bed with a sweet yet endearingly shy kiss on the forehead. Before he leaves the room, he whispers a few honeyed words in a voice that somehow feels softer than usual, reassuring you that everything will be alright, and when he finally exits, he sets himself to work on all the unfinished chores around the house. He works diligently while you relax under the silky covers of your bed, and although it takes a while, when Xiao finishes with your trivial tasks, he joins you in bed, wrapping an arm around you and allowing you to bury your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent as you feel yourself drifting off into a blissful realm of alluring slumber.

On days where joy evades you, ZHONGLI never fails to find a way to comfort you. His presence alone is calming, but when coupled with his actions, you feel as though you can almost continue with your daily routine as usual. At the moment, you are sitting with Zhongli in your living room as your hands are wrapped around a teacup. Condensation graces your palms, and it would be unpleasant if not for the warmth seeping into your body through the delicate porcelain of the cup. As you take a sip of the drink, you allow an airy sigh of contentment to slip through your lips. It’s absolutely divine, reminiscent of the finest ambrosia, something straight out of the tales your lover is currently recounting. Your mind feels as though it is clinging onto his voice, hanging onto his every syllable to regain a sense of stability despite the fog that clouds your thoughts. He spins stories of downfalls and triumphs, some tales downcast while others inspirational, and in the midst of his narration, you find yourself transported to a different world full of fantasies — an oasis of reprieve hidden away from the monotonous and lamentable reality facing you.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, then reblogs and comments would be appreciated!

#r.archives *ೃ༄#astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #albedo x reader #alhaitham x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #thoma x reader #tighnari x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #genshin headcanons

2K notes · View notes

sciderman · 7 months

Note

Round boy + mask = square jaw

Pointy boy + mask = egg

Why?

wade's mask is masc. (hahaehehehahaeo...)

wade does a lot to mask his soft interior – he worries a lot about appearing soft.

[x]

he's GETTING SOFT (and peter loves it. he loves when wade gets soft.)

[x]

underneath it all, wade's soft and round. no matter how he tries to hide it.

[x]

wade is always hiding it – to way more extreme and destructive measures than peter, actually.

it's kind of funny, wade's insistence that peter needs to be honest to himself - because wade's the poster boy. wade finds it difficult to be true to himself, because he doesn't even know which "self" is true at this point. he's constantly pretending to be someone or something else.

something that'll please others. make him more palatable. more entertaining. make the audience side with him, even if he thinks he's undeserving. fake it till you make it.

sometimes i think about how wade lost his virginity the night before he enlisted (because he was worried the guys would make fun of him if he was a virgin.)

of course they made fun of him anyway.

he doubles down - he puts on the macho air that everyone expects from him. he can be the bad boy. he can be the rugged antihero that is a total jerk but everyone loves anyway because he's the tough guy. it's why you'll never get to see what adult wade looked like pre-weapon X - you'll see wade in his teenage years - but once he enlists - that's not wade wilson. he's constantly playing a role. cool action hero, whatever'll get him the girl.

it isn't until weapon X that he's forced into a position where he can't hide anymore. everything is on his skin. plain as day, for everyone to see.

[x]

deadpool becomes the mask wade can hide all his damage and his insecurities behind because lord knows he can't hide a thing when he's out of it. like a lobster out of his shell. he's soft, and pink and tender. he couldn't survive without that hard red shell exterior, to make him look tough.

peter's mask is also masc, but his mask is peter parker.

spider-man is kind of funny. in that – outwardly, it does look similar to deadpool's performative masculinity. he has "-man" in his name, for christ's sake - but - it's not, really. you wouldn't say spider-man is overly macho. even as much as peter insists it is - nobody buys it.

you'd definitely, by all accounts, call peter parker the more masc aligned of the two - peter wears baggy clothes, he's kind of uptight, a little bit boring - and spider-man - spider-man's downright flamboyant - from his mannerisms, his jokes, and his tights. oh, and his fluttery little web-wings. he is fruity.

spider-man, in his tiny fruity little tights: YEAH. take a look at ME, girls. this is what true manhood looks like.

you might say the confidence it grants him is what makes him macho - but i think the fun thing about peter's gender journey is his embracal that actually - confidence isn't necessarily a masculine trait, and that - actually, his gender icons (save for uncle ben) are largely confident women.

i think that's why olive is so dear to me - that peter's leaning into a confidence and self-assuredness that doesn't come from being conventionally masculine. and, in fact - peter parker might be so shy and insecure because he's trying to fit in a box that doesn't fit him.

i think spider-man is more of a playground for peter. a place where he can experiment with his gender and his sexuality and the concept of "manhood" and what it means to him.

he can explore, because the anonymity grants him less social pressure to fit in. society can despise spider-man, and yeah - it'll get him down, but the repercussions are relatively little. peter has to fit in, to survive. and, as peter parker, he's terrified of those repercussions.

peter has such a desire to explore his identity and understand himself better - but, under safe, controlled conditions - whether that's under the anonymity of his mask or... or with people, who make him feel safe.

so, spider-man is peter's outlet to be fruity without repercussions. peter's og dragsona, actually. so – lithe, and curvy. he is so shape.

#sci speaks #GENDER !!#i could write essays.#ask-spiderpool #meta

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fluorynn · 28 days

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🩻 — 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐥. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : lo’ak 〤 omaticayan!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : in which 4 years have passed after the incident. Change was normal to occur, but so was loss and grievance within that change. Change was something that had occurred within the youngest Sully boy when the RDA returned, when he had to flee from home and leave you behind, when the incident happened. When the Sullys returned after two years, Lo’ak instantly seeked for you, yet you’ve noticed he had changed both for the better and worse, and sometimes, most days, it had become for the worst. You’d given him many warnings throughout the year, as both of you have now reached adulthood and have committed to a relationship that at first begun with the constant lovesickness for one another, never ending touches, stolen kisses, but that was when you were mere teenagers, and as time went by, as change and grief and war came upon you, your relationship took a shift. Harsher he became, more reckless, impulsive, ignorant, inconsiderate, yet he promised he’d change for you. After every act and word, he promised to search within himself, within the past to try and find the Lo’ak he once was, the proper mate you deserved soon, the Lo’ak who you adored with your entire soul. Yet if you were to be sincere, you knew that after all these major events that happened to Lo’ak and after the months of not seeing him, he would not be the same, especially after the loss of Neteyam. You wanted to hang onto the sliver of hope, of sanity for yourself, because Lo’ak had not been the only one to have lost something, someone, yet it seemed that everyone always excused him for his behavior, nobody cared, especially Lo’ak. He was constantly out flying, ‘on patrol’, never returning to the hideout the Omaticaya People still had to endure, and his excuses only became more and more unreasonable. His father said the boy’s just under a lot of pressure, Kiri said he’d come around, but Neytiri did not; while she too grief, she too experienced major changes, it did not give her son the excuse to treat you with such heartless behavior. You loved Lo’ak, and you loved him ultimately and beyond compare. You loved him too much however, to the point where it blinded you from seeing the harsh reality that this indeed was not your Lo’ak anymore. The strong substance your people had, he somehow always found a way to consume it, practically reek of it without his family knowing — and you didn’t dare ‘rat’ him out. He wasn’t yours anymore, and every ounce of pain, of grief, of sadness you felt for him soon disintegrated. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, he was supposed to be the one bound to be your mate when the time came. But now, it seemed that he wasn’t suitable for you, and while 14 year old you promised his 14 year old self to never leave, you realized now why promises wound up empty. Everyone reaches a breaking point, and you are now finally acting upon it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : aged up!lo’ak, ANGST, 18+, thigh riding, fingering, grinding, mild kuru play?, overstimulation, soft!lo’ak, teasing, drinking/alcoholism — lo’ak’s insecure, stubborn, harsh and grieving still but masks it a bit well, reader is slightly sensitive, fed up w him, gives in to one more chance w him tho — italics in dialogue signifies they’re speaking Na’vi!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : pretty long, lol

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @lilghostiequinni @pandoraslxna @avatarloverfrfr @dvxsja @princess-of-thebes-1995 @strongheartneteyam @talanyra

author’s note : Just in my feelings rn, LMAO. Neteyam series prologue will be posted soon ( hopefully….I just want to make sure it’s good and there’s enough but not too much detail to give away what may happen in future chapters — it’s one of those things where I’ve written the following chapters just not the one I should have actually put time in😭 —) but just thought I’d drop this — Lo’ak lovers, rise up! I hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to comment, reblogs are appreciated! <33

“Good. You are up here.” You’re met with his back facing you mere feet away, the unkempt pattern of his stripes and the tense rise of his shoulders is more than enough for you to know it is him, especially when knowing that this spot is the single one reserved for him. Lo'ak Sully was left in a state of utter bewilderment, a feeling he thought he had long surpassed. Over the years, he had honed and heightened each of his senses to such an extent that no ordinary being could startle him anymore. However, you were no ordinary being, and that was precisely what captivated him. Your ability to consistently surprise and astonish him in unexpected ways kept him constantly alert and intrigued.

He gave a subtle glance to the object in his hold – a minor wooden cup filled to the brim with an alcoholic beverage — naer — one the Na’vi can smell before even spotting it for its scent is strong, vigor. At this point, there is no trying to hide or deny it from you. Even if he did try to throw it off the large branches he sat upon, the scent would be there, reeking around and on him. He had given you the vacant promise to back away from it, or very least try to yet make no effort in doing so. This drink that, while it tips one over for a bit of time, it also deprived feelings you could no longer do. Whatever had happened in his life, each burning drop down his throat and to his mind managed to fix for a minimum amount of time. Of course Lo’ak would not give this up – the opportunity to not feel anything to the bone.

“Your father said you did not show up for your training.” Your tone of voice was deficient of its common disappointment and despair, simply uttering as if you didn’t spare a care for it anymore.

“My father should learn to mind his own business and worry more about leading his People and fixing the damage done from the Sky People.” Lo’ak finally spoke, voice curt and Na’vi language gaining a thickness as he heard your subtle footsteps against branches. “I am not a child anymore.”

“You are right. You are not. But he is still your father, he worries for you. So does your mother.” You reminded him as if it were not known, reaching your spot next to his sitting frame only to spot what you’ve already suspected in his hold, taking in his physical state.

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t. He has no reason to, and neither does she.” His quip made your lips squirm down but said nothing as you observed the drink in his hand, the way his ear flitted from his own words, from your words in adding onto that his mother worries. A quirk settled between your browline but held your tongue for you did not want to start some meaningless quarrel. But Lo’ak could feel the distaste radiating from you, how you’re fighting the urge to scold him for his incapability to uphold his fair share of promises. What he doesn’t understand is why have you not done so?

“You look very pretty. Sevin ( pretty ).” He softly stated.

A small smile was all to be offered — one filled with slight remorse. His legs had been dangling down the edge of the thick lodge of glowing branch, and you pondered on doing the same as you’ve always done since you were children; swinging them above the small lake of water at the same pace he would, teasing him with a light nudge of your foot. But this time was different. Instead, you knelt beside him, knees bent beneath you and slightly tilted your body towards him. Lo’ak’s blazing irises scrutinized you the way he typically does, recognizing the strain your shoulders formed, as if you were on edge because of him. So, he took one more small swig of the liquid before his face started inclining forward to plant a light kiss on your lips. One that was fleeting – everything tied or related to Lo’ak was always fleeting.

Lo’ak’s lips very often suffused your mind from thought, so incongruous from right and wrong.

One moment Lo’ak offered his physical affections and pretty words.

The next, not even a split moment, he was causing you to suffer.

You now pondered where exactly this little act would land the both of you in.

You were the first to retract away from Lo’ak, not wanting to fall into his little patterned act. The kind of act of loving Lo’ak too destructively that overflowed everything with a single touch, and tug you back into him.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired, dark brows quirking.

Your coils lightly sway at the head shake given, yet he knew before you could have a chance to verbally utter the lie. “Lying’s not a good look for you.”

“I am not lying.” You were quick to snip out before you could contain your tone, palms pressing into your thighs that indicated the falseness of your words.

“Right.” His eyes rolled and bit, “There’s something you’d like to say?”

You can’t help but blink a few times. This was an opening, to say what was in your chest. “Srane ( yes ).”

A hum of boredom rang through the air. “Could have just said that then. No need to take the hard way around.” His golden eyes were drawn to the liquid in his hold, watching its faint glow swirl with the light flick of his wrist, and you wondered just how far gone was he. Normally, Lo’ak would have some sort of facade going on, one that’s filled with his now dry jokes and teasing smiles despite the fact that the both of you knew it was just a show. Yet now, he was unfazed of your presence as he brought the cup to his lips, throat bobbing with the largest swings he took.

Perhaps if you were standing, you might’ve tipped over and fallen to your death. He simply saw it written in bold letters right across your face. “I am not here to fight with you.” You quietly started.

“Then don’t.”

An exhale flared your cat-like nose at his crossed tone. “Okay, I will not but I am going to need you to drop whatever tone it is you’re trying to achieve with me.” Lo’ak, despite the abrupt changes spiking in him, was still your Lo’ak, so when he heard your warning, his ears pinned down by the sides of his head and eyes strayed to the ground below as an act of regret. This gave you some sliver of hope.

Not necessarily did you want Lo’ak to be unstable or uncertain with himself, it made you quite content that he’s grown into his fierceness. What was bothersome to you were his drastic changes, and it seemed what once went as two souls that twined perfectly for one another was now misplaced — your presence within his life wasn’t necessary any longer. The intoxication he was constantly washed in came with a smell too strong for your liking, too nauseating, too overwhelming for your senses. Tears swelled up in your eyes, yet you contained them. “I had thought you were going to quit.”

“If we’re speaking truthfully, I told you I'd try.” He corrected, smug voice paired with a stupid smirk.

“Hm, and have you?” You retorted and his brows hitched beneath his two thin cascades of braids. “Have you tried to quit?”

“You’ve got proof that I haven’t?” He shot back. You despised this, despised the person he’d become, despise that he seemed to knew precisely what he was doing and didn’t give two fucks about it.

“Let’s see — there’s Kiri, there’s Spider, oh there’s Tuk who tells me this!” Your voice carried a feign sweetness and surprise, watching how his brows crashed together with your sneered words. “This is the brother you wish for them to see? This is the person you want your future People to see, Lo’ak? Their possible future leader, the Tippling Olo’eyktan?”

“And what the hell is it to you, huh? We already know I’m not suit to be Leader.” His spiking temper was one to shut you up, but you did not fail to notice the light lash his tail made. “You’re not my mom, you’re not Tsahik, and you’re certainly not my mate. I don’t need you worrying over me. And I don’t need your constant annoying questions.” Your body shuddered, more so because of the harshness of his tone rather than the biting air. Your knees dug into the branch’s crippled surface, fingers winding into fists as your eyes quickly looked down. Eywa was witness to the sensitivity you’d gain over the years, the years Lo’ak happened to be in.

“It’s not common for some warm body to ask this much from their future Olo’eyktan either.” He added.

Lo’ak’s words striked you with force, causing you to physically and instinctively recoil from the sharp sting of it. The deep slice within your heart, cleanly tearing into two parts. Perhaps in some pieces, some hindsight, it could have been described as that if you didn’t add onto the fact that the both of you grew up together, the fact that he didn’t have the simplicity of courage to call you by the true title he once proudly uttered you as; his. His bound-to-be mate, his girlfriend.

“A warm body? That is all I am to you?” You questioned, and Lo’ak — pondering whether his mistake was to tell you the definition of those words in human terms or perhaps the true, more common mistake he noticed that was clearly etched in his features — gained regret behind those lax-colored eyes of his. But it was masked, tightly trapped beneath this filthy portrayal of pride, egotistical, brash and reckless man. Not even a man, a boy. “Lo’ak!”

Instead of giving you a proper answer, he threw you a side glance, one filled with provocation. The scoff emerging from your throat was inevitable, and you nodded. If this was how he wished to act, then fine. It will make the forthcoming situation much easier for you then. The only way to get through with this was if you treat him as if he was nothing to you. “We must speak.”

Push through the heartache, the pain, the way it tore you apart. You must start to truly see him for who he was in this present moment.

And what you saw was not your Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was listening, you could tell by how his ears slightly flitted up, but he said nothing. Simply awaiting for you to proceed as he took another sip.

“I…” You felt the affliction that tried clawing its way up your throat, your eyes fixating on the ground and you stayed quiet for a while.

“Just spill it already.”

“I have come to say goodbye, Lo’ak.” His slamming shock is beyond thrilling. You had been seeking, some, any type of sign that would prove Lo’ak’s care for you — and perhaps this was the answer; the high perch of his ears, the broadening of his eyes, the hitched breath. Nonetheless, it was too late. He had created his situation, and now he would have to accept the consequences.

“What do you mean g-goodbye?” He stammered, and the cup was now abandoned and falling to the ground that was far below the both of you.

“Ah, so now you can speak!”

“Enough,” he inhaled deeply. “And answer the question.” The audacity this skxawng had. You are firmer with your words “Srane. Goodbye, Lo’ak.”

“And where exactly are you going? And when exactly were you going to tell me?” He spat out in distaste and disapproval, body fully turning towards you.

“The Tipani Clan.” You responded with an edge of sass. “I am telling you right now, aren’t I?”

His response was immediate, loud and he shook his head despite your answer was to be expected, knowing that one of your deceased parents descended from there. “The Tipani Clan? What about—” He halted his sentence from speaking of himself, of how if you left, you’d be tearing apart from him and taking it with you. But fear of vulnerability halted him from doing so, so instead he dodged it. “What about your duties here? I thought you promised to be here for your People in case the Sky People returned. To help rebuild.”

“Lo’ak, I am telling you that I am leaving and all you care about speaking is duty? Are you serious?” He instead looked away from you, too stubborn to answer, so you said his name again. He ignored you.

“Lo’ak, fucking look at me.” It was the rarity of hearing you speak English and the vulgar word thrown in the mix that caught Lo’ak’s attention, gold orbs flickering to you in an instant and you immediately notice the diversity of emotion pooling them.

“So all that matters to you, is my duty to the Omaticaya? For me to not be here as a fixer upper for them? You only care about that being broken? Is that the only thing that matters in that head of yours?”

No. The response was, should have been a fierce no. You were constantly, always in Lo’ak’s head. He yearned for you extravagantly, and besides staying alive for the sake of his family, you were one of the few things he could find himself caring for. There would be many cold and curt swears to never trust, to never care or love after losing someone who not only qualified as a good mate, but a loving one, is what Lo’ak thought, he knew it. If you left him — when you left him, he would be done with it, with the twinge of good, of hope. He’d be completely shut off from ever seeking a mate to be bonded with under Eywa’s will, he would not care of continuing the legacy of his name despite him now being the only son. His heart, the heart you once saw as fearless and strong, would be guarded by much thicker, massive walls, and that small space would only become constricted by the waves of his tears. While you were everything to him, you were not sufficient enough to spare him the grief. At least not alone.

While he has grown, while he has sculpted his abilities and became nearly as mighty as his big brother, under all that was still a broken, hurt boy filled with guilt. He could not allow himself to get rid of that part of himself. He could not shed enough tears to move past everything that happened, that he had seen and lost.

Lo’ak loved you, he was deeply in love with you. And perhaps another thing that has changed was that he could not depend everything on you, and instead needed other things, distractions despite it being selfish. He needed to fly because it could get him away from the ground and connect to the closest thing that felt like Neteyam, he needed to drown himself in that alcohol the Na’vi made because it drowned away all the pain and misery his family went through and still hold, the burden to try and add up to something, someone he will never be able to fill. But while he’s engulfed himself in all that, he could pretend that his family wasn’t broken. That it was the same, once happy family it once was 5 years ago. The one that still had Neteyam’s presence, the one that still had a father rather than a commanding leader. In this minor haven of numbness, he could still pretend that those once fond memories were fresh, remembered the way they were supposed to be reminisced. He could not just let it go.

Meanwhile, Lo’ak’s silence was tearing you apart, fragmenting your heart into pieces. But now you knew, you saw the truth. You could not keep a desperate grasp around old words and acts anymore, for now they were faint. Empty. Pointless gifts of a said courting that was going nowhere. Loving phrases and charming grins he more than knew could accomplish in capturing your heart.

But now it was clear as day that it meant nothing to Lo’ak. You meant nothing to Lo’ak. He did not love you as much as you loved him.

His throat cleared, and thickly spoke in English. “Your place is here, Y/N.” His eyes refused to meet yours, jaw narrowed enough to demonstrate he was clearly upset, though you’re not certain why.

“It was.” The correction you gave his words finally made everything click. His gaze lingered on the lake’s neon glow before lifting to look at you, trying to catch your own. The pretty decorated braids that framed his face moved with the motion of his head slanting to the side. He repeated your word, squinting before shaking his head and more so whispering to himself, “You’re leaving.”

Sharply exhaling, you finally uttered, “I am also here to end things between us, Lo’ak.”

Again, he was bewildered, and the cut breath he released made it known. Eyes darted over each feature upon your face, as if trying to commit it all into his memory, panic slowly seeping within him. “Can…I can say something, right?” His tone still carried its infamous jeer, but you suppose that was the last you deserved. You were the first to engage in this conversation. When you grant him the permission to speak, he wasted no second in taking advantage of it.

“W-where’s this coming from?”

You’re more than certain more inquiries will follow, and one or two questions will satisfy his little interrogation.

“What’s the motive behind all this, huh? How long you’ve been planning this, to leave me?” Lo’ak’s voice was one that never faltered nowadays — he, much like his father, was a fierce speaker. You knew that Lo’ak did not like to be kept in the unknown, in hiding. But now his voice was rather meek. His once honed gaze turned rounder, emphasizing that he may cry. What you despised most in this moment, was that it unphased you. Before this, all the trouble and conflict spiking between you and your Lo’ak, his tears were your least favorite thing in this entire existence. Out of everyone, you once believed Lo’ak was the least of them all to deserve the brim of tears. That he deserved happiness. The sight of them always managed to tear you bit by bit with every fallen droplet, and now it hardly mattered. While you do still very much believe that he indeed deserved happiness, you’ve reached your limit. You’ve devastatingly accepted that you could not restore that happiness in Lo’ak.

“Few weeks. A month maybe.” You answered faintly. You use the best of your abilities to keep a firm composure. It would be miserable to cry, especially right then and there. Lo’ak stumbled through his repetition of your answer, dubiety twisting your features, mind and heart. You cannot seem to comprehend the sudden shift of his act. The authentic perplex and strain to recall what went wrong as if he never saw this coming from you.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, Y/N—” His long arms extended, touch reaching to collide with you, yet he reluctantly retracted back as if he’d been scorched by some blazing flame of a barrier around you. He repeated his apology, scrambling to try and find whatever pieces he’s broken and bring them back together while trying with all his strength to not lose his damn mind. “Lemme mend this — y-you have to let me mend this, okay?”

His voice is desperate, pleading, and it was as if he’s speaking without wanting to hear reason. Lo’ak may not be known for his smartness, but he was clever with certain things. To you, Lo’ak was everything. But even so, that usual thick headed mind of his was unable to get himself out of this one.

“Y/N, we can — it’s mendable.” His head was repeatedly bobbing up and down, and it told you that perhaps you’ve brought him out of his drunken state. Brought him back to Pandora, at least for a split moment, you thought.

“I think it is too late now, ma Lo’ak.” His eyes shuttered and he let out a quivered exhale. “Baby, don’t say that, please—” He reached for you again, this time pushing through the fear and on with it. He couldn’t help the slightness of grimace upon him when his hands cut into your self-obtained space, and it was then that he realized why that burn had been a great protection for you.

Anxious, panic-stricken he was, digits winding around the bareness of your hips and wasted no second in tugging you upon his lap. “Please…just give me one more chance a-and let me mend this, yeah? Baby?”

The expanse of his palms quivered when they lifted to your cheeks, your own gripping the taut muscles of his shoulder blades to maintain your balance, to keep yourself steady from the pleading within his green-speckled hues. The air surrounding Lo’ak reeked of that forsaken alcohol, entangled through his braids, the essence of his blue flesh, his accessories.

You take him in; the faint violet flushed beneath the sockets of his eyes, the drain that highly beseeched at you with every syllable tumbling from his cloying lips. “I’m….fuck.” His breathing was escalating; more turbulent, almost hysterical as he tried retaining every part of you inside of himself.

Without your willingness, you’re gently moved, yet still, your form remained unyielding.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and you know that.” His softly hushed words were right. You knew he meant them. While Lo’ak’s emotional avoidance over the last few years had been quite a lot, it did not make him exceedingly insensitive. He was full of many pretty words, but never once did he utter abundant words into existence without purpose. But what you only wished for was that he’d been able to say them sooner. Could have been swarmed with the realization and recognition of you before you’d made it to the edge of the cliff above the depths. All that was left for you to do in order to escape was to take the act in plummeting. To end things with Lo’ak, to start anew with your own life.

It is unattainable, you’re more than convinced that this is the end of the path for the both of you. Even with that said forged in your mind, you nodded still. Purposeless it was to see him in this state of franticity and fear of the prospect of losing you burdening your heart. You may feel repentant later on, but you’re to leave once this is finished, once this is over with and you’d never return to the Omaticaya. Lo’ak was to be an experience of your past. He would hate you then, hate you for an eternity for what you were to do, but you knew he would be okay. What he needed was his family. To fix those cracks, to patch those injuries. To improve himself, Lo’ak must and will find a way to find his true self beneath all those layers of resentment and suffering.

That was all that ceased to matter.

“I can mend this? You’ll let me?” You nodded once more, but he did the opposite in an act of disapproval. “Nah, I need to hear it. Let me hear you.” His voice was glazed with true, raw pain, something you haven’t heard from him in such a long time. “Please, Y/N…”

“You can mend this, ma Lo’ak.”

“Y-you promise me that?” He questioned, and for a moment you faltered. It’d be much more deceiving for him to know you were lying. So you don’t, and instead you let the tips of your four fingers stray to the nape of his neck and pull him into a kiss. And in this moment, you knew that you had never loved with such depth, such fervor with every fiber in your being.

You were aware that once you vanished from here, the fractures etched in your heart would scorch, ablaze to the point where you would feel every flicker and pain. With that being said, you poured it all into this one kiss, one that seized every ounce of respiration from his lungs. Vehementing it was. Vehementing you were, of course. His mind was nebulous; hazy, too fucked over — but you were here. In amidst the turmoil of an inner war, you. He loved you profoundly, and he knew you well. Well enough to know what the next day would bring. He knew why you were contributing to this, why you were granting him the belief that his pathetic attempt of resolution would be enough.

You loved Lo’ak as well.

The thought of facing a day without your presence gracing his life churned his chest with a crushing sense of loss, the palpitating organ within bending and compressing as if some being had reached and tried bending it to their own taunting will. He must give you everything, he had to give you everything, risk it all, and perhaps it would be sufficient. This time it is Lo’ak who retreated from you, dark lashes fluttering against the warmth of your cheek while his eyes perused over your face just one more time.

“You know that no matter where you go, you’ll always be mine.” His words were not a question, more so a statement of persistence and certainty the both of you felt and knew deep within your bones.

“You do understand, yeah?” You could hardly form a verbal response, though you do not give him the opportunity to bask in his little glory, and instead your hands, the ones currently on his shoulders, slid to the beaded necklaces encasing his toned neck, fingers tangling through them. “If you’re going to do something, get on with it.”

Lo’ak can’t help the soft smirk hoisting his cheek at your clipped tone and grumbled, “Impatient much?” Candidly speaking, this was perhaps the closest he was to being himself. That brilliant smile you haven’t seen in so long resisting the urge to be the prime focus of attention. A pity, really, for you.

“You still trust me?” He noticed your indecisiveness. He doesn’t give you time to respond for he soon added on, “Like this?” and that almost immediately changed the answer. The adapted pads of his fingers grazed down the dip of your neckline and to the elegant line of your collarbone, peering down your figure. “Do you trust me enough to have you like this?”

Your chin slightly dipped bashfully as you nodded. His brows drew together and hissed in a breath. “I wanna hear you say it then. Make this easier for the both of us.” Your delicate beaded chest piece subtly heaved from the ascent your chest made, and he could not help but laugh, eyes crescent-shaping with the sound, at your irritated voice. “I trust you, Lo’ak.”

“Good.” he muttered softly beneath his breath while letting his hands fall and secured themselves to your hips.

Yes, good, you repeated the single word in your own mind.

“You’d give yourself to me right here, right now?” He questioned, and you stuttered at this. It wasn’t the upmost ideal thing, for this spot practically belonged to you and Lo’ak was perhaps the most reserved place within the Forest since you were children. But it was the Forest, and you never knew who from the People could be wandering around. The thought of someone stumbling upon you and the Olo’eyktan’s son out in the open petrified you.

Though it seemed your pussy thought otherwise and did not mind one bit of this idea.

“S-srane ( yes ).” Firm was your word, and it pleased Lo’ak. Muscle memory it became when his palms created a path upwards from your hips. Palms that held such tenderness as they splayed up your stomach, blunt nails beginning to faintly engrave themselves into the azure flesh of your waist, soon following your midsection to endearingly trace over the pretty stripes decorated there.

The strokes he caused made you squirm in his lap, body curling slightly to the side and your nose twitched cutely. “Lo’ak, enough—” your plea went ignored once more by him.

“Do y’know how pretty you are?” Lo’ak’s words caused your heart to skip a rather large beat. Curse his idiotic mouth, curse him. Curse his abilities to have you melt with a single breath of his lungs.

“Our People always speak about the Great Mother’s beauties. Saying how she spent a great deal on Pandora,” he murmured and you didn’t hesitate to listen, even despite the light acts created from his touch that have your abdomen twitching.

“But gosh, I think you’ve bested her.” He exhaled almost breathlessly, as if the weight of his words were too grand and exquisite from being spoken to existence, to you. You saw nothing but sincerity in his face, blinking rapidly when he tapped your hip and uttered, “Take it off now.”

His demand left no inch of a room for a disagreement, so without further hesitation, you hitched yourself a bit up while wobbly fingers perched down and into the weaves of your tewng, slipping the garment off. You more than knew that when he meant to take it off, he meant to discard everything — such as your little chest piece. But almost as if it were a challenge, you do not. This drew a chuckle out of Lo’ak and you rolled your eyes despite settling back down on his thigh.

His mouth moving hot against yours, and for a second your entire world stilled, the remaining fragments of your heart plummeted, the wild fluttering as the single thing inside of you capable of sustaining life. Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindled for a moment as Lo’ak’s mouth meshed with yours. He kissed you fiercely, fingers brushing the lower swell of your breast, breathing existence back into your being, and it was then that you moaned lowly for him.

When he ripped his mouth away from your own, it was when his fingers found their way down the dips of your stomach, outlining the lower section, soon curling around the upper muscle of your thighs to part them just a bit more, dragging two deftly fingers through the growing mess between.

“Even when that pretty head of yours wanna hate me, this body can’t resist me, hm?” He retracted his hand as he spoke, long enough to glide those two fingers between his lips, humming contently around them before pulling them out. They were profusely coated with his spit, making it such an effortless task to increase the mess worse. Its pads nudged back and forward between your slit, occasionally granting nurturing circles to your nub. Your mind was becoming warped within the lust, back to clutching onto his shoulders for steadiness.

Your nails punctured the muscles there with the longing to grind against something, anything. “You’re so damn wet, mamas.” The foreign nickname had force in tearing out a sharp gasp from your throat, and he huffed out a chuckle while absorbing all the moist sensation.

“ ‘m gonna have you all fucked up on my fingers, then some more with my dick, how does that sound?” The sensation of his dark plaits grazed your cheek, lips adding on when they brushed your flickering ear. “You want that, Y/N/N/?”

You could not do anything more than whine, allowing your hips to wind forward in hence to catch every languid swipe of his slim fingers against you. Your body quaking, head pummeling as you padded near the pleasure.

Pleasure which you more than knew was not healthy. It was as if adding a single aid to a severe wound. The following day, you would detest yourself to the core for giving into this thrilling temptation; the thrusts he gave your tightened cunt, the kisses shared between your swollen mouths, the caresses given to your skin, all of this would create much more difficulty for you to move on.

Lo’ak’s fingers wasted no time in swatting against your swollen clit, pads of each digit rubbing gingerly over. Sensitive it was, every swipe causing your entire body to stutter.

You can feel more arousal oozing out of your cunt, adhering to Lo’ak’s constricting thigh. His flesh would be tainted with your slick, his dangling braids and pretty coils would be ruined with every slight tug given by the time you were done. Though he could not bring himself to care about it, he was not letting you go at this moment, he could not ever bring himself to do it.

The momentum of his overworked digits were lethal, you'd be culminating in a matter or seconds. The hand currently entangled within Lo’ak’s hair suddenly disappeared to slide down the base of his thick queue, fingers delicately curling around the sensitivity while you began to subtly gyrate your hips forward, the stimulation becoming much more direct and effective.

Though the act made from your dainty touch caused his jaw to go slack, pupils engulfing the golden pools of his eyes as a soft hiss whispered from his mouth.

"Look at you go, baby…" Tongue peeked out just to glide over his honed incisors before teasingly reaching forward to lightly bite your pouting lower lip, gaze never tearing from yours.

Everything is what you were to him.

The brimming of your orgasm deepened inside the center of your lower belly, spiraling bit by bit. “Hey, no, look at me, mamas.” His tone is low but beseeching, words practically breathing into you, directing you to obey his plea despite the violent desire to let your head slant back if it weren’t for another one of his pleas catching you, voice caressing the tethers of your soul.

“Please look at me, sevin. Lemme see you when you fall apart for me, yeah?” And it was then that you were reminded of your thoughts from earlier.

How fucking perilous Lo’ak’s mouth could be.

“Ma L-Lo’ak—” His name was uttered in a whine, clutch becoming firmer around the single braid of his as you compelled yourself to remain in eye contact with the Sully son. He squirmed yet didn’t reprove you and continued his work between your legs despite the building-up ache bulging between his own, three fingers dipping lower to gather more slick before adding it to his pattern against your throbbing clit.

“I-I’m close,” you huffed out, and Lo’ak nodded deliberately, the subtle movement of his pleading face mesmerizing you. “C’mon, lemme see it happen. Lemme see what I do to you, how good I make you feel, hm?”

"Hmm— L-Lo’ak, you're gonna make me cum." Perhaps you were nearly driven to tears when Lo’ak craned his neck forward again, though this time his lips pecked over the pink contours of your scrunched nose first, sweet, loving kisses falling over each star-like speck across your cheeks, beginning to create a path all over your face.

“You’re doing so, so good f’me. Always so fucking sweet to me." His breathy muttering oughted you to look away abashed, flustered.

"You love the boy you knew, don't you?"

"You're not a boy anymore — y-you’re to be grown, to to be Olo’eyktan o-one day." You reminded him curtly, words tumbling from your lips as you tried focusing more towards your pleasure.

"Nah, no." His head shook, the two braids aligned to each of his cheeks swaying from the motion. "Grown — Grown Lo’ak is very different from boy Lo’ak, isn't he?"

Your heart couldn’t help but falter at this, a muskiness kissing your waterline, blinding your senses as you stared at him solemnly. "I love every version of you, ma Lo’ak. I just love you."

Agitation suddenly crumbled his pretty features, and brokenly whispered, “Then why are you choosing to leave me?"

You truly did want to answer him despite the way your heart nearly plummeted to your stomach, yet it was difficult to. His lips sweetly found their place over your face again, prickling your flesh as if pointed needles.

“L-Lo’ak." He merely hummed at the low warning. "It’s okay, just go ahead mamas. I know." He whispered against your flushed cheekbone.

"Cum for me, you've been so good, sevin. My pretty girl." Your chest heaved overwhelmingly, the tips of your ears flirting with each of the pretty, earnest words he reiterated, swelling the urge for you to sob. "Perfect and pretty. The only girl, my only babygirl."

And perhaps you would sob.

"All you have always done is take care of me, huh? But who takes care of you?" His working hand dragged up, and the sudden act caused you to jolt. Lo’ak’s free arm and hand, however, wasted no second in coiling around your midsection in order to keep you from moving away.

"Just wanna make it up to you, tìyawn. Just tell me that's what you want from me." He beseeched, nose nuzzling into the line of your trembling jaw.

“Y-yes, that is what I want, ma Lo’ak. Please, please, please. T-Take care of me — make me cum— make it up t-to me, Lo’ak, please." A moan rumbled in the center of your throat for Lo’ak felt it when his lips twisted upwards into a wide grin. “Then do it — c’mon, cum for me, baby. Let it out…”

He didn’t need to instruct it twice for you came in an instant. It washed over with a moan, long and broken, your head seizing forward and into the crevice of said neck and broad shoulder. Damped lips were immediate to latch onto the future Olo’eyktan’s neck, biting, suckling, and softly licking the striped flesh, body quivering as you were thrown over the edge.

Your walls twitched around a vacant place, and Lo’ak kneaded your abused numb through the aftershocks as the pearlescent proof of your release pooled out of your cunt. "Fuuck, my pretty girl, doing so damn good for me." He crooned sweetly, the long length of his lashing tail somehow finding its way to tenderly coil around the thigh clenched by his side.

You faintly feel the swift movements of his hands reaching down to fiddle with his own tewng, yet the dread was too heavy for you to react.

It was only then when you realized that Lo’ak was not stopping his tempting assault that you found the strength to peer hazily down at where your pussy and Lo’ak’s fingers met. He was still playing with your pussy, flexing digits coating themselves in your sweet essence before ramming them right into your much sensitive hole.

He was immediate in starting at a brutal pace, so engrossed in searching for the spot that would have you squirting all over him.

"L-Lo’ak, Lo’ak, no w-wait, please— " Yet he had decided to not listen to your cries. Not even looking at your face, no, his gaze was enthralled with the way his fingers are digging you out, the way you swallowed them whole, nearly becoming one with them.

"No, you must take it. You can take it.” He forewarned but your head was shaking in denial, a sob flying out your mouth. “K-Kehe ( no ). I-I can’t, m-ma Lo’ak—”

“But you can, baby. I know you can.” His brows furrowed softly together, brushing against your browline as his forehead kissed yours. “And you know how I know that? Hmm?”

Stammers were the only that managed to be formed. “Because I know you, Y/N. I am the only one who knows you better.” He fed you the answer he had been seeking for and your chin jutted up and down. “Or am I not, mamas?”

“Y-yes, L-Lo’ak, it is you — just you.” A chuckle proudly spewed from him. “And who knows this pretty pussy better than me?” Hips jerked forward, whining with a gasp at the harsh deepness of his digits. Your grip on his queue released, palms scattering out and planting on each side of Lo’ak’s angular face as you kept his attention locked towards you.

“N-no one, ma Lo’ak. N-no one—”

Lo’ak nodded firmly, “That’s what I thought, baby. Now, let me treat her the way she deserves to be treated, okay?” His mouth brushed over your lush one, yet didn’t necessarily grant you the yearn of a kiss. Not as he noticed the subtle flash of upset striking your face.

“Just one more chance for tonight.” He added after a pause. “You’ll let me have her for tonight, won’t you, Y/N?”

You whined shamelessly, “Y-yes, o-oh! P-please, Lo’ak—”

“That’s the Y/N I know,” His praise went by tenderly while the act between your legs was entirely distinct, much more carving, exhilaratingly burning you. “My Y/N, my girl.”

Your pussy was well acquainted with the feel of Lo’ak’s touch, a rather hefty debate between said cock and fingers. Every single adapted ridge, divot, arch. Always, always taking him so well, so eagerly, prettily desperate for Lo’ak.

"You're so wet." He grunted, pupils dilating in awe from the brief yet sufficient enough glance given to the drenching mess. "Need you to tell me how it feels."

“So good, Lo-Lo’ak. You make me feel so, so good." Lo’ak liked you like this, all in a drunken daze, vocals all garbled up.

"You gonna cum, mamas?" You could not even answer, not as your body actively chased every thrust. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers so good. Jeesh, you're so damn perfect." He rasped lovingly, "Love having you like this…you’re everything to me, you know that?”

The words were meant more to himself, yet you heard him all the same. “L-Lo’ak." you muttered though the tut his tongue made kept you from proceeding, head shaking. “Shh, don’t say anything. I jus’ want you to cum for me, got it? Flood my shit.”

You felt every curl, every nudge his fingers gave the most sensitive spot within, your insides coiling, rattling all at once to the point where you nearly lost all feel of your lower body, all sense of the way your tail swiveled, the way your limbs quivered. “Make a mess all over your future Olo’eyktan, hm?”

The hand grasping your hip rose to press against the rising arch of your back, encouraging the pretty dip to take shape while your inner thighs clenched around Lo’ak’s palm.

But the continuous push to your back flushed you forward, thighs yanking open with the lankiness of his lower abdomen shoving between. The act caused his fingers to retreat from your weeping hole and knead them sloppily upward. The intensity of your subsequent climax came in high waves when he slumped them back inside, pumping once, twice, three times all in one before he was pulling back to stimulate your pulsating clit.

White spasms of what could be compared to blazing stars overcome your vision, a shriek rippling from your hoarse throat while you drizzled your release all over Lo’ak, the hands once cradling his face dragging down to the length of his neck and jabbing your thumbs into the hollow of his constricting throat. Tears cascade down your glowing, flushed cheeks, a never ending streak assisted by the river flowing from your cunt — an enthralling combination that had Lo’ak feeling ecstatic.

"Mhm, that's it, baby. Just ride that shit out for me…that’s it, there you go." His encouragement had your body feeling dazed and spent as you leaned forward to flush yourself against Lo’ak’s dampened chest, ear flickering at the rumbled sound he created.

"You did so good for me." Lo’ak muttered into your other ear, mouth grazing the point of it. "So, so good." The length of his palm moved to cradle the curve of your head as he felt the racketing your body created, watched the sways your lovely tail created before it nestled right beside his thigh.

"Your pussy's so perfect, made to take me, made to listen to me, isn’t that right?” You couldn’t help not answer from the embarrassment clutching at you, and instead nuzzle the tip of your nose over a glowing speck on his cobalt striped chest.

"Nga yawne lu oer ( I love you )." This was sincerely declared with a brush of a kiss to your head. "I do, I really, really do." He insisted, and he couldn’t evict the sniffles following that scrunched his nose afterwards. "I am sorry, very sorry for the way I’ve acted."

You were too exhausted to create some sort of movement, but one thing that was for certain was that Lo’ak preferred it this way. It made the act of speaking, of apologizing much easier for him.

"God, I really have been so selfish, haven’t i?” A deep furrow found its way to your forehead at his self chastising, at the way he was combined, conflicted between uttering this to you or to himself. “You will still leave. You won’t be here anymore. This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Another stiff sound left Lo’ak, so meek, so lost before sweetly adding, “I promise I did try. For you, I really tried. F-for them — for my family. To be what they need— what you needed.” A sob strangled within his throat, mind nearly beginning to descend into that fogging darkness. “A-and I know it’s not an excuse, I know it’s been years but after we left, a-after Neteyam—”

Yet the gentle, secure entanglement of your arms pulled Lo’ak from that mindset, and he found solace within this embrace, keeping him close, letting him feel and know that you were there.

“Q-quiet. Enough — do not do this to yourself.” You stammered out softly, a light kiss meeting his collarbone. “We still have one more chance, ma Lo’ak. One more chance within this night. One more chance to pretend that this is not our future, to pretend that everything is fine, yes? Do not waste it by recounting your regrets, okay?”

Lo’ak’s mind geared this over, and in there, and in his heart, he more than knew that he will never be able to bring himself to love with such force as the way he loved you. Yet still, even now he could not express it in a good, healthy, proper way that you truly deserved. He would find a way to prove it, however. To show, to act, to live by it as if it was the very sole purpose of his life. Lo’ak would find the pieces of himself beneath all this tethered and tainted pain, and bring them together within himself in order to bring himself back to life.

Lo’ak would do it for you. For his family.

So you could learn to love him again.

But he would do it for himself as well.

In order for him to learn to love himself again.

"Wipe your tears for right now, okay? I am still here. I am right here in front of you." Lo’ak’s firm arms surrounded your frame into a hold that was soothing, familiar, full of strength. It blossomed molten warmth within your chest, erupting an arsenal of emotions.

"Whatever you — whatever you wish to give I will take." you ended meekly and Lo’ak was certain he had fallen for you all over again. Yes, his climb back to victory would be well worth it. For you to look at him one day, and to once again see him as the boy you loved, the man you will love, the man you admired so profoundly. It made Lo’ak’s entire heart begin to tremble, along with the curves of his lips.

"Alright then, sevin. Just take a breather and rest for a while, yeah? Our night's just getting started."

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brighttears · 11 months

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Finally

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Summary: After losing contact with your lover Joel and his brother for five years, Tommy finds you and brings you into Jackson. You reunite with Joel but it doesn't take long for him to project his insecurity onto you. You talk to Tommy about it until Joel comes and finds you. You have make up sex/five years overdue sex, and end with a shower that eases some feelings out of you as you relax in your new home with Joel

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: (18+, MINORS DNI) PIV unprotected sex, creampie, mating press, slight hair pulling, slight edging, dirty talk, Joel has a big ol weiner, pet names (baby, babygirl, good girl, sweet girl, darling, my love), you and Joel have an argument, ‘slut’ used derogatorily, accused cheating, brief drinking, kind of insecure!Joel, Tess doesn’t exist

A/n: this is the longest it’s ever taken me to post anything lol (and also the longest thing i’ve written i think?). the quality will not correlate I was messing around with like four other ideas this is the just the only one that got somewhere, also been having way less time to write and that will probably continue 3: also finally did smut (for the one person who has said they want me to lol love u)

—

Riding up to the gates of Jackson, you feel like a teenager on their first day of high school, distractingly nervous but drifted forward by hopeful butterflies. You grip the leather reins and look to Tommy riding beside you, he grants you a reassuring grin. In front of you, the gates, made of lines of thick logs with a large rusty lock, start to groan open. Tommy slips through before you and you follow him into a different world—a ghost and dream, lit up by string lights, appearing warm despite the winter, healthy and alive. Your focus, however, concentrates on the faces, many of which are looking back at your new one. Flicking from one to the next, your heart rises and falls with every one that isn’t Joel’s. Tommy’s promise has your senses perked up like an animal.

Ahead of you on the road, you double take a man with his back to you. Despite this and his hair being too gray, his posture and step are unmistakable.

“Joel,” you utter, soft, a reaction rather than a call out; it croaks out of your throat, dusty from all its time stuck there. Awakened, his name erupts from you then, “Joel,”

The man stops dead, then whirls around, and you stop breathing because it is him. Unable to look away, you stumble off of your horse and begin to walk towards him. It’s silent, almost frighteningly so, even if it’s just in your head, because it makes it feel like a dream, like if you so much as blink he’ll be gone or you’ll be awake.

Joel mirrors you, then jogs, you feel hot tears behind your eyes, and then you collide, grabbing at each other like you’re making up for every lost embrace from the past five years apart. He makes a sound, holding you with his cheek on the side of your head. You shake once with a cry, a mixture of shock that keeps your eyes wide open, though blind, actualization flowing through you and into your fingers digging into his thick coat and tangling in his hair, dregs of sorrow and resentment against time finally detaching like leeches, and love, powerfully swirling around everything inside of you.

Then you hear his voice for the first time, “Oh, baby,” and your eyes squeeze shut and you start to cry, and he holds you tighter. You can’t stop it, fueled by relief in the intense familiarity of the pressure of his arms, his scent, his voice, the way he breathes.

Once you’re breathing properly, Joel pulls away, holding your waist. He looks you over, making sure you’re real and here, and when you are, he slips a hand under your jaw and pulls your wet face into a kiss. For a moment your lips are simply pressed, frozen, overwhelmed, and then they move, and you kiss starved, revived. The feeling of sanctuary rekindling floods you, your face quivering with tears, and you have to pull apart for a breath.

And Joel is still here, and you hold his face in your hands because he’s so beautiful and he’s finally here. You take in each other’s new features—wrinkles, grays, scars. You slide your thumb over his cheek, feeling his rough skin, and then you meet in the stars in each other’s blown out pupils.

Simultaneously, you start to giggle, giddy, and then you guffaw, holding each other, and Joel pulls you back in. Tightly, he sways you like a doll, and you feel his laughter through his body like against a speaker playing heavy base. Being in his arms feels like life being unpaused.

“Tommy!” He cries over your shoulder, still laughing, “Where the fuck did’you find ‘er?” Still held tightly against him, you can’t hear Tommy’s response, but then Joel repeats “Oh, baby.” and leans his head down to loudly kiss the side of your face.

You pull away and admire him. No image that you’d drawn up in your imagination compares to Joel in the flesh. Running your hand through his longer, silvered hair, you realize just how much you were missing out on.

“I found you.” You whisper.

He chuckles with a wide smile, “You found me.” And then takes you back to him, “I missed you so much, baby.”

“I missed you to death.” You mumble into him.

Tommy’s voice sounds nearby, chuckling “Don’t smother ‘er to death, we just got ‘er back!” You part and turn to look at him with a rawly genuine grin. A sincere smile curves back. You thank him through your eyes and he nods. Joel strides past you to hug his brother, long and meaningful.

Then he turns to you, hand still on Tommy’s shoulder, and looks you up and down. “Come on, you must be freezin’, I’ll take you up to the house.”

“The house?” You question as he guides you back up the road.

“The house.” He confirms with an amiable smirk, hugging you to his side by an arm wrapped around you.

—

“I know, I know!” Joel enthuses as he closes the door behind you, watching you turn in a circle, mouth agape, taking in the house, which is actually fully intact, walls and furniture alike, basically clean. It smells like Joel and his jacket hangs on the pegboard on the wall next to the door. An acoustic guitar leans against the couch, which has a blanket hung over the back, there’s a mug out on the table, probably still half full and cold—this is Joel’s house.

“Look, look,” he calls and rushes to the kitchen sink. He turns the handle and water flows out in a powerful stream, and you stride over, mouth still open in astonishment. You put your hand under the faucet and feel the water heating up.

“Hot water!?” You cry, and you both burst out laughing again in joyful gratitude. You stop suddenly and Joel turns off the faucet. “Does this mean… shower?” Joel gives you a dramatic frown, raising his brows and shrugging, then nods his head to the stairs. Tugging at his arm, you cry out his name, thrilled. He takes off and you race him up the steps.

“I can get’chou some clean clothes easy—how long you been wearing those?”

“Disturbingly long.”

Joel laughs. “You meet Tommy’s wife yet?” He looks back at you shaking your head as he opens his bedroom door, “Well, she’ll take care a ya’.” He steps into the middle of the room and turns back to you and you magnetize, holding each other by your arms. “Man, when I first got here I just kept thinkin’ how much you’d love this place.”

The image of that almost makes you blush and your heart swells, knowing that he was still yours while you were gone, playing house with an imaginary you. “Damn straight I do. Fuck, you’ve just been livin’ it up.” Looking over his face, you’re beginning to relearn it.

“Well, I am now.” His expression shifts from excitement into contentment and he murmurs, “I missed you so much, baby,”

Fitting together comfortably, you join for a kiss.

The calm of the room allows you to experience your feelings wholly, inside and out; thus, a shared heat is overt and you strip your jackets, not parting lips and hurriedly reattaching your bodies.

“Shit,” you breathe out, craving him and finally being satisfied at the same time as his warm, powerful hands move over you, sliding up and down your sides, your back, up your forearm as your hand brushes over his face and into his hair and with your other you squeeze his thick bicep. He walks you into the wall, clutching your middle to him with an arm wrapped around you. His other hand drags from your face down your neck, flush against your skin as he continues slowly lowering it further, past your collarbone. Your chest expanding in a deep breath lifts it into his hand and Joel swears, then repeats in a murmur, “I missed you so much baby.” You respond with a whimper and wetter kiss, pulling him ever closer, and he swears again, the hand on your back clenching the fabric of your shirt. Then he moves it to the underside of your leg, between your thigh and your ass, and lifts, holding your thigh next to his leg with your foot dangling, toes curling in your boot. Truth is, no one has touched you since Joel, save for yourself, so he’s driving you crazy right now.

Your mouths together compose a natural melody, one motion rolling into the next, constantly finding and looking for more and you’re obsessed again with his flavor. If this lasted forever you wouldn’t even notice. But, just as he moans into your lips, Joel suddenly pulls back and holds you away by your waist.

You rest your hands on his forearms. “Joel?” You inquire, catching your breath, and then slide a hand over his cheek and under his chin to lift his head, looking for some kind of communication from his expression. He meets your eyes for only a second before he lets go of you completely, turning away and walking to the other side of the room.

You stay where you are, granting him space. “Joel? What’s wrong?” He turns to you but his head is bowed. “…Joel?” Anxiety scratches at your heart and you wipe your mouth.

Sighing heavily, he slowly rubs his hand over his face before finally speaking up, “Look… before we… go any further, I gotta ask…” he leans his hand on the short dresser and when he looks up his expression is unexpectedly serious. “Is there someone else?”

It takes you a couple seconds to put it together, but you ask anyway, just to make sure, “…What do you mean?”

Instantly, he replies, “You know what I mean.” Firmer this time, he repeats, “Is there someone else?” Confounded, you’re tongue tied, and he takes it as confirmation of his suspicions. “There is, isn’t there?” He almost sneers.

The atmosphere has shifted dramatically; just a few minutes ago he was laughing brightly with you, and about thirty seconds ago he was caressing you, amorous and loving.

“Are you joking?” Joel’s face says ‘what do you think?’ and you screw your own face up. “Are you asking me if I have some secret partner?” You ask once again just to be sure. He says nothing, only looks on unrelentingly and puts his hands on his hips, bent knee sticking out. You laugh coldly. “Holy shit.”

Near monotone, he asks, “Why’s that funny?”

“I just—wasn’t expecting this, at all, I mean this is just… do you realize how much of a jackass you’re being right now?” You pause, he says nothing. “Well, I’m not having a fucking affair. Okay? Jesus.”

Joel huffs, keeping stoney eye contact, and grinds his teeth. You let him brew in the silence. Still, after all this time, you can read him like a book—he has convinced himself that you found someone better while he was gone and have come back only to blow sand in his eyes, and then you’re going to run off to your new, superior lover, leaving him on his ass in the mud. And although he doesn’t want it to be true, he always puts so much faith into awful assumptions, and he hates being wrong.

You sigh in understanding but speak to him sternly, “Joel, you are making this shit up in your head and just putting it on me. That’s not fair. Don’t do this. There’s no reason to do this.”

Defensively, he suddenly raises his voice, “I jus’ wanna make sure I’m not steppin’ on any toes.” With a bite, he finishes, “I’m jus’ sayin’, if there is someone else, now’s the time to leave.”

Your expression turns unsympathetic, brow pinched and mouth parted in amazement, and then you counter venomously, “I don’t know who you think I am. I don’t know what kind of twisted version of me you’ve created in your head. Are you trying to call me a fucking slut? That’s the kind of narrative you've thought up? That’s what you’ve been thinking about while I’ve been gone—me betraying you?”

Joel’s eyes are closed and his head is shaking before you even finish, pinching his brow with two fingers, “No, no,”

You cut right back in, “Alright, well that’s what it fucking sounds like to me so I am going to leave now—not to run off to some paramour,” you spit, “but because you’re being a fucking asshole and need to run this one back through before you talk to me again.”

“W–wait,” He tries, but you’ve already spun on your heel, snatching up your jacket, and rush out with heavy footsteps. You don’t bother closing his front door behind you and don’t look back, not hearing anything either.

You don’t know this town yet, but you keep the same pace you left Joel’s with and just follow the road, packed white with hard snow. The sharp air makes your eyes water and you swipe your hands at them blurring your vision. Your breaths, fast with your fiery heartbeat, blow steamy clouds like puffs of white smoke.

You stop the first passerby you see, “There’s a bar here, right?” Your tongue hasn’t fully cooled yet and you try not to sound harsh. You’re almost out of breath.

“Yeah,” the tall woman’s voice is mousy and she tucks stray black hair into her hat, then turns and points, “just follow this road, you’ll come to Main Street, it’ll be on your right.” As she turns her head back to you she adds, “It’s called the Tispy Bison.”

“Thank you.” you nod, do your best to smile, and continue on.

—

A rush of warm air blows out through the door swinging open and your nose starts to run as you step into the Tipsy Bison. It appears very ‘American’ themed, with its warm, inoffensively red walls, everything country–style wood, and taxidermy wall mounts. Crowning bright soda fridges are neon red Coca–Cola logos. A few lively groups are scattered about, talking and laughing. Blinking into the reality of the massive dining hall, you wipe your nose with your sleeve; it’s so much like the world before and for some reason it intimidates you. As you scan the room, you spot Tommy at the bar and remember you’re thirsty.

He smiles when he notices you approaching but it fades and he furrows his brow as he regards your expression. You slip into the chair next to him and he turns his torso to face you, one arm resting over the back of his seat, the other on the bar with a beer in his hand.

A gravelly voice from behind the bar asks, “What can I get ya?” and you turn to a friendly looking woman with thick, coily hair and dark teeth.

“Surprise me.”

“Gotcha. Comin’ right up.” She smiles and moves away.

Turning your attention back to Tommy, his brow is still furrowed, as it is most of the time, really, and he bites his lip. “Trouble in paradise?”

You turn forward to rest your elbows on the bar and slide your head through your hands, pulling your cheeks, then resting them on the sides of your head. “Your brother’s being a little shit.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, he’s pretty good at that. What’e’do?”

During the time you’d been with Joel, you became close with his brother, too. Tommy has always been easy to talk to and you pick right up where you left off. It’s nice to have someone to talk candidly to about Joel, and you’re sure he feels the same.

“Same kind of shit he always does—assume the worst in everyone and stick them with it for no fucking reason.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty classic Joel.” He sips his beer and smacks his lips. “You know he does really love you, though.”

“No, I know, I mean, I can tell even with this,” you remove your hands from your head and turn to him, “he’s accusing me of having ‘someone else’,” you air quote as you confide, “like I’m having a fucking affair. Came outta nowhere.” Looking to the side to blow out a breath, your eyes automatically flick around your surroundings.

“He’s just insecure.”

“I know. It’s not like I’m cutting him off or anything, and I want to stay in Jackson, I just told him to… cool off, in so many words. You know I love him too, I just had to fucking leave.”

Just then, the voice sounds again beside you, “Here’s that surprise for ya.” She places a short, ribbed glass in front of you, a blood orange drink on the rocks.

“Thank you.” You immediately take a swig and it’s bittersweet and smooth.

As you do, Tommy says, “Yeah, good call. He just needs to get checked sometimes, y’know? He’ll figure it out. He’s just… yeah, he’s insecure.”

Looking down into your drink, you add, “He hates himself.” and spin the glass over the smooth bar. “That’s his worst quality. That’s the only thing I would change about him.”

Tommy sighs. “I think what makes it worse for him is how much he loves you.” He shakes his head, “He just gets so damn scared. He has no idea how strong he is, how good he is… I think we see a real different version of him than he does.” You nod. There’s a beat of silence before he continues, “It’s just… loss, y’know? It’s like he just wants’t’ beat it to the punch. He always feels like he’s doin’ sum’n wrong. Always thinkin’ it’s his fault.”

You nod again. “You said it: he sees a real different version of himself than we do. I just wish I could…” you suck your teeth and turn to him, “I keep trying to talk him out of it, you know? Do you think that works?”

He looks down to think for a while, then looks back at you and concludes, “I think… it’s gotta be him.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

To lighten the mood, Tommy smiles, “Well, don’tchou worry, he’ll be crawlin’ back t’you with his tail between his legs any second now.” You ‘psh’, looking ahead and admiring the warm-toned colored bottles shelved on the wall. Then he adds, “You’ll never lose ‘im, you know.”

You sip your drink and roll his words around with it, full, mellow, but strongly bittersweet. You and Joel had been separated for a long time, wherein all you had was faith, and you gripped that rope tight and never let go, just like he would for you, just like he did for Tommy. Joel has yet to let you down—he’s fucked up many times, but he’s never let you down, because he puts his heart into everything he does; it’s maybe his most admirable and most troubling trait. He loves so hard it hurts, sometimes not just him. You’ll never run out of patience though, because he’s your Joel, and you love him to death. He hit you like a bullet, quick and good, and he’s lodged somewhere inside of you, unretrievable.

“Speak a the devil.” Tommy’s voice breaks you out of reflection, looking past you, and you turn to see Joel, halfway in the doorway, devastating eyes and all. For a moment you just watch him, awkward in the doorway, admiring his presence, but you keep a straight, neutral face. You look back at Tommy as you take a last swig of your drink and he smiles with understanding eyes.

Hopping down from your stool and strolling towards Joel, you have to bite hard back a smile, though you’re still pissed. Catching him doing the same, you briefly question why you have to do this dance instead of just leaping back into each other, mixing into your color and staying like that in his bed, which must be so soft and comfortable and warm with him in it. He is so god damn beautiful and it’s been so long that your hands twist nervously behind your back and you feel yourself blushing, so you turn your head down as you near him. You have good reason to show him you’re upset, though—the dance is important.

“Can we talk?” He asks you, voice entirely soft.

You look up at him, pause, and then nod. Joel turns back outside slowly and does more than he needs to to hold the door for you.

Winter is near its end but you’ve arrived just in time for a cold snap; the wind has picked up significantly in the short time you’ve been inside, icey and sharp, and you bend your head down against it and hug yourself. Joel starts to put his arm around you but pulls away, glancing at you with awkward steps towards his house.

“Hold me.” You answer, so he does, arm around your shoulders, curving himself around you as the wind whips. The man is a living furnace, you can feel it even like this.

—

It’s silent until you’re back in Joel’s house, too cold and windy for any kind of conversation. Adjusting to the indoors, you both blow out sighs, and Joel impulsively helps you out of your coat and hangs it on the peg next to his on the wall by the door. Then he just stands awkwardly; he’s never been good at this. What’s important, though, is that he’s trying. Waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts, you lean against a wall with your hands behind your back. After a moment, he looks around, sucking his teeth, and then moves ungainly to sit in a chair at the table. You follow and sit across from him. More silence, he fiddles with his hands on the table in front of him and grinds his teeth. Under the table, you run a finger back and forth over the wood’s grooves on its apron.

“Okay,” he starts, then pauses, keeping his gaze on his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice sounds rehearsed, like he said ‘I’m sorry’ in his head twenty times before he spoke it. “I was wrong. I didn’t mean t’… I mean I’d be pissed too, if you said sum’n like that to me. I know that’s not you. I was jus’… scared,” he wills the word out, looking off to some spot on the floor, “You’re right, I,” he pauses, then motions his hand up in circles next to his head, “I jus’, made this whole story up in my head. I mean we haven’t even talked about, y’know, what’s happened in the past five years. I have no idea what you did or didn’t do, and it’s not my business unless you want it to be. I jus’, I don’t know,” he shifts back in his chair and fiddles with his hands again, “I was just afraid that y’d… forgott’n about me or found someone better or, uhh…y–y–”

Watching him start to fumble over his words, you decide that now is an ok time to cut in, starting quiet and gentle, “I didn’t.” Joel looks at you as you speak, his brow furrowed up. “I never forgot about you. I thought about you every day. I was scared, too, I didn’t know anything about how you were doing or where you were, I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, but I just lived like I would. I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to. And there’s no one better, Joel,” you slide your hand over the table to take one of his. He unclasps them to fold it in and watches his thumb stroke over your hand. “You are the only one. What I feel for you can’t be touched. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could be with anyone else. But I didn’t try. All I did was miss you.”

At that, Joel takes your hand with both of his, taking a deep breath, and then leans in to place soft kisses over your knuckles, peering up at you as he does. A bolt in your core throbs heat into the rest of your body and you feel slightly dizzy. Again, you haven't had any kind of touch like this since the last time you were with Joel, so you’re starving for it, but above all, for Joel. His lips are gentle, his hands are warm and burly folded around yours.

You slip your hand out of his and get up from the table. He watches you walk to his side to fix your level of separation and he stands and joins you back into an embrace.

You sink into each other, bodies and minds fusing as if you were never apart. You match temperatures so all you feel is the pressure of his hands sliding up your back, under your shirt. In his hold, your back is arched and your hips are met; there’s barely any space between your bodies at all. You hold onto his face, running your hands over it, messing up his hair, focusing on his lips, letting him do the work on your body. Joel places a hand on the front of your thigh and starts slowly dragging it up. You twitch under it, desire like a lightning storm around under his touch. You nearly jerk into it and he finally slides his broad hand flush between your thighs. Your head falls back and he doesn’t miss a beat, moving his lips on your neck, and it forces a moan out of you.

“You like that?” He says into your skin, barely out of a kiss, nose pressed against it.

“Yes,” you whine, “please, oh my god.”

You feel Joel smile into your neck and he nips it. “Jump up.” You do, his hands out and ready to catch your thighs. This was a regular trick of yours and apparently your bodies haven’t forgotten it. As he starts for the stairs, you lean yourself over his shoulder. The placement of his hands are in both the best and worst spot, splayed just barely over every area you want him to touch. You hold onto his neck as he brings you upstairs and laugh when he kicks his bedroom door open, making it bang loudly against the wall. Once you drop back down to the ground, you connect your mouths again and immediately start to strip. While you struggle with the buttons on his shirt he undoes his belt and jeans and then yours. You rip his flannel off of him, annoyed at it, and then slide your hands under his shirt. You feel over his chest, around his back, and up his sides, relishing in it, and he chuckles into your lips before helping you pull it off. He wastes no time on your shirt, loving that you’re braless, caressing your chest, and then pulls you in, pressing your bare fronts together. You moan in the satisfaction of feeling him like this again. His calloused hands run smoothly up your back and on their way down pass briefly under your waistband. You raise him by slipping your hand all the way into his jeans, cupping his hardening cock. He swears into your mouth as you find hold of it. It electrifies you further, having forgotten about this part of him. Quickening breaths deepen the rise and fall of your chest against his.

He pulls his lips from yours and his voice is gruff when he says, “You’re killin’ me darlin’.”

The tone and the way he’s hardening in your hands is driving you wildly lustful and you tell him frankly, voice pitched high, “I want you so bad Joel I love your cock I need you to fuck me,” all of this wet into his lips.

Immediately, Joel tugs down your pants, but when they’re at your knees, he pulls away to look at you and he says “Boots.” You both laugh breathily and sit down on the edge of his bed—your pants still halfway down—undoing your laces hastily. He finishes first and then helps you untie the laces of your other shoe, both of you chuckling with heavy breaths. You kick them off and then Joel moves in front of you, taking hold of the cuffs of your jeans to pull them off. Once they are, in one swift motion, he opens your legs up with his in between them, and, still standing but leaning over you on the bed, he slips his hand back between your legs. He places it flush against you through your underwear, which would be embarrassingly dirty, but who fucking cares? They’ll be gone soon anyway. Joel’s mouth opens amorously, watching your eyes as you let out a long, embarrassingly pornographic moan at the raw enough contact. He slides down deeper, the heel of his hand pressing lightly and thrillingly on your clit and you gasp into another moan. He grins and then leans his head down to your neck, dragging his tongue up its full length.

“Fuck,” you drawl involuntarily as a shiver runs through you and you hook your arms under his to claw his back. When Joel slides his hand back up between your legs, wetness seeps from your slit. Joel chuckles erotically, his breath over the line of his saliva on your neck making it worse and your legs open wider. The heat under his hand matches that in your chest and your breaths are more desperate in want of him.

Fed up of him taking it so slow, you slide your hands under him and push him up, holding onto his biceps to pull you up with him as he stands, and lick into his mouth. Your other hand goes straight into his pants and under his briefs, teasing him like he had you. When he moans into your mouth you squeeze only slightly and then slowly move your hand up until your thumb comes to the spot just before the underside of his tip. You begin working it like that, teasing him wet and sensitive in your hand.

Joel pulls his face away from yours, eyes closed, and breathes out “Shit.” He squeezes the arm reached down and moves his hips into your hand. You keep at it, biting your lip watching him. “Ah, oh, fuck,” he mumbles, almost sluring his words, and warns, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” when you do stop, he groans.

Bringing your hand away from him, you settle it on his belly and wrap your other arm around his neck to nuzzle your face into it and mumble, “I missed your cock so much, I miss feeling it, I wanna see you cum,”

“Fuck.” Joel states, then commands, “Lay back on the bed.” You do as you’re told, propping yourself up with your forearms behind you on the bed and watch him drop his pants. Finally naked, his cock bounces to flip onto his stomach, reaching just under his belly button; dark curls hide everything else. Your sigh is almost a moan just looking at him, like a meaty roman sculpture of the exemplary man. His brow shadows sultry eyes and, like an animal in heat, you open your legs, peering up at him needily.

He slowly crawls over you and whispers, “Move up for me darlin’,” nodding his head to the side for you to lay properly on the bed, head on his pillow. He reaches past you to click on the bedside lamp and then sits up on his knees, admiring you under the golden–yellow light. He places a large hand on your stomach, adding pressure as he slivers it up to fondle your chest.

You appreciate the sentiment, but you have plenty of time for slow, worship sex, and right now, “Joel please I need you to fuck me,”

Smirking, he growls, “Since you asked so nice,” and lowers himself onto you, kissing sluggishly. He doesn’t bother to remove his face from against yours to take your underwear off, just tugs at them until they find their way to slip off. Then, as he positions himself, your thigh slides over his—it’s small, but something about it makes you sigh sensually.

“You ready for me baby?” Joel asks, hovering his lips over yours.

You could come up with some clever remark but now is not the time, so you simply whine, “Yes, Joel, please, I need you,”

“Yeah?” He says, low and lazy, and then moans softly as he eases his thick length into you. Deep satisfaction flows through you as he fills you up, humming and moaning. Your foreheads press together as you adjust, both your mouths wide open, and Joel’s fist clutches the sheets next to your head. He brings himself back out slowly until only his tip is inside you, and then his free hand clutches your side as if to hold you in place as he reinserts himself and begins thrusting, now only barely pulling any length out before plunging back in. Your lungs jump and clumsy moans pour out of you as the force of it rocks your hips.

Joel licks your cheek and then, grabbing hold of your hips to keep himself inside you, pulls himself to sit on his knees. Stretching your arms up, you bear yourself to him, and his mouth has yet to close. He bites his lip before starting to fuck you again, both harder and faster, holding your lower back completely off of the bed.

“Only me, huh?” He says, breaths bumping as he drives himself into you, “I’m the only one that touches you?”

“Yes,” you moan out.

“You touched yourself, though did’n you?” You answer in the same way, “You thought about me while you did, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you sound, high pitched as he starts to fuck you harder.

“Did it feel this good?”

“No,” your drawn out answer catches with the force of his hips pounding against you.

Joel’s head falls back as he speeds up and you already feel yourself start to constrict around him.

“Shit,” he looks back down at you, hums aggressively, and slows his pace dramatically. “No baby, not yet, not yet.” As he pulls out fully, precum flicks onto your stomach and he drops your hips. Back down on top of you, your body weighs into the bed under his and your mouths bond again.

Joel can’t keep his cock out of you for long, though, keeping up messy kisses, each rolling into the next in a flux, he shoves his hand down to slip back into you and fucks a quick tempo that makes the bed creak. One of his hands stays planted on the bed next to your head and the other goes back to hold your hip, pulling you into him with each of his thrusts. Angled slightly up inside of you, he hits a spot that produces a guttural moan from you, and while your mouth is wide open with it, Joel doesn’t quit biting and licking at your lips.

Your body reacts without you, your hand slithering over him—up his arms, his torso, his back, one landing to grip his hair and the other reaching at his hip. The way he bucks into you now hinders your ability to kiss but your faces rub and touch, sharing the same hot air, moaning over each other.

After one loud, long moan, Joel pulls out of you again in a swift motion, moaning through pants.

“Joel why the fuck do you keep stopping,” you slap your palms on his chest in frustration, legs still spread under him.

“Well I js’ don’t wanna cum too fast,” he answers innocently.

“Joel I have been waiting five years…” he starts to chuckle and you smile, “for you to cum.” You slap his chest again and then decide to take this matter into your own hands, pushing him up to get yourself on top. You straddle him, his cock resting stiff and shining on his stomach. Back up at his face, you look into dark eyes, his lips parted with heavy breaths, and you slide your fingers through his hair, gripping a bunch, silver strands highlighted in the light. Keeping eye contact, Joel’s fingers trail lightly down either of your sides as you sit up, sliding his joystick into your hold, and he hums as you sit down on it. After adjusting to his throbbing size, you come up and back down slowly a few times, and then begin swinging your hips to fuck him. A loud, long moan cracks out of him and he closes his eyes and seizes your hips. You release his hair and instead hold into his thick, veiny forearms like handlebars as you accelerate. He moans, long and loud again, and, keeping up a beat with your hips, you lay down on him, pressing your body against his, and eat the moans from his mouth. He adjusts his hold by wrapping an arm around the middle of your back to hold you down and squeezing your ass with the other as if to help your hips along. To keep yourself stabilized enough to keep your mouths together—you could barely call it kissing anymore, just sliding tongues and lips however you can—you plant your hands on the bed with your arms like you would doing a pushup.

Even though you’re on top, Joel is in control now, holding you to fuck up into you.

He angles his head down so that your foreheads stay pressed but he can speak, “Fuck babygirl you feel so good, so fuckin’ tight, I fill you up so good, huh? Pussy’s just for me to cum in, huh? All fr’ me? All mine? Can you tell me you’re all mine?” His words and breaths catch with the rhythm of the surging flux of your bodies rolling together. You feel his muscles jolting in his lower abdomen as he drives in and out and those in his arm twitching against your back with the force of it. The way he fills you is carnally satisfying and overdue and you never want it to stop.

“Yes, yes, all yours, all for you, my pussy’s all for you—fuuck—yours, my pussy belongs to you,”

“Thas’ right, babygirl, you belong to me.” He takes your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls your mouth back to roll his tongue into and unfurls his arm around you to grasp a bundle of hair.

Suddenly, he maneuvers you to flump your back on the bed, bringing himself back on top, and immediately stuffs himself back into you. He grips your hips again to fuck you like he was before, controlling you like a doll, and you grab onto his wrists.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he continues, fucking with an immediately brutal pace, hitting you somewhere deep and perfect but he’s talking over you too much to be able to tell him you’re going to cum, “I was so spolied, I didn’ realize how spoiled I was with this lil’ pussy,” he bumps you hard and rough a couple times to emphasize, “perfect lil’ pussy on my perfect lil’ girl, my sweet girl, so good to me,” Joel tilts forward, keeping himself securely deep between your legs, and releases one of your hips—which you would not be surprised to be bruised exactly in the form of his fingers—to stroke his hand over your cheek, and then gently hooks his thumb in your mouth, pulling your lip out to the side. “Now I get t’ fuck you every fuckin’ night, cause you’re all mine n’ I’m all yours, gonna make you cum every fuckin’ night,” your hips inadvertently lurch against him and you bark a moan and his thumb trails out of your mouth as your head leans back onto the bed. You haven’t had your body move like this in awhile, an animal in and of itself, innately greedy for its mate. Joel sounds almost excited when he says, “Ooh, oh, you gonna cum babygirl?” He sits back on his calves rather than standing on his knees and readjusts his hold on your hips, hands digging into the flesh defining your waist to your hips, and pulls you into his rough, uncoordinated thrusts, driving the entirety of his shaft into you so deep that you feel pressure pushing up in your stomach with each rocking tug. He pants out moans, watching you attentively as your face screws up while you reach your personal crescendo.

The only time you feel this desperate for something is when you’re about to die—such a blind need, a moment stretched out that you will to continue until you are satiated, and oh does Joel deliver.

“Go on babygirl, go on n’ cum for me, cum around my cock, be a good girl an’ show me you’re mine, I wanna make you cum, baby cum for me, cum for me,”

His pleading encouragement is more than enough to pierce the balloon swelling in your stomach, already being bumped rapturously by his manhood. One of your hands is thrown back, grasping at the sheets, the other remaining around his wrist. Your eyes roll back in your head, you suck in a breath and there is a moment of silence, save for the creaking bed, before you break it with a ridiculous, long moan, perceiving only the bursts of ecstasy from Joel’s messy pace, which he quickens with breathy moans. Your contractions around him are dramatic, essentially sucking his dick inside of you like instinct. He pulls you against him and is mostly still besides his hips, which rapidly lurch, drawing out your orgasm to overlap with his. He falls silent again, mouth open and his brow furrowed, eyes also nearly rolled back in his head, as he mechanically glides short in and outs, nearly all of him buried inside of you, pulling back an inch at a time at most as he uses your trembling, sheathlike pussy to stroke out his cum. Then, as his hips jerk forward, leaning into you, and then jerk in again, moans squeeze out of his throat, and he finishes pressed into you.

Panting, you stay pressed and gaze at each other, more or less astonished.

“God damn.” Joel is the first to comment.

You laugh, out of breath, feeling him ooze inside of you. “We really get to do that every night.”

“My god I’m in heaven.” He half jokes with a smile, then relaxes your position with a huff, letting his softening length fall out and rest over you. Joel runs his hands up and down your body in two broad strokes, looking you over, then smirks and chuckles breathily. Then he slaps your thighs and simply offers, “Shower?” and laughs as your face lights up.

“Fuck I almost forgot about that!” You grin with wide, excited eyes, and follow him off the bed, squeezing your legs together a little, still filled with his cum, as you walk to the bathroom attached to Joel’s room. You admire the back of him as he turns the squeaky knobs. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve gotten this kind of full view of him; as many times as you’ve been naked with each other, it’s almost always had to have been somewhat ducked and rushed. His back is casually muscular and he has ever so slight love handles. A knee bent outwards shows off a round ass.

Hearing the water start to spray, you can’t help a giggle, eager, and he twists to you with a smirking grin and laughs.

“Oh man,” he chuckles as he turns his back, meticulously adjusting the temperature, then twists his head again, looking at you expectantly, “Well come on, then,” and you patter over. He gently takes your hand to lead you into the square stall, and moves behind you to slide the glass door shut.

There is no need for him to walk you through the process of taking a shower, but he slowly guides you under the spray anyway, and you gasp as it hits you, still heating up, not used to the sensation. You hadn't realized that it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten how a shower feels and it disturbs you slightly, feeling a little feral versus Joel’s domesticated cleanliness, but his light, absent minded smile eases the thoughts out as he walks in a few slow steps, backing you up to join you under the showerhead’s broad spray. He leans his head back, closes his eyes under the water, and lets go of you to smooth his hair back as the water soaks it. When he opens his eyes again, he smiles at you and smoothes his hands over your wet face.

“Turn around,” he nods, and you do. He stops touching you, leaving you unnerved for only a moment until his hands come back over your upper back, cool soap gliding them over your skin. He squeezes your shoulders lightly and it makes you sigh, then slides his hands over your shoulders, up and down each arm individually, adding more slight, relaxing pressure, and then his hands follow the personal downward design of your body as he shifts his body against your back. Stubble tickles your neck and you giggle as he nudges in to place innocent kisses over your neck while he washes your chest, then slipping soapy hands down your sides to your waist, hips, and what he can reach of your thighs. Humming out a deep sigh, you feel dazed and limp under the hot, deeply relaxing water. Joel embraces you from behind, just resting his face in your neck, standing still with his arms around you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the urge to cry. This is the safest you’ve felt in a long, long time. Not only are you in Jackson, a secure compound where you can go see a friend for a drink and take a hot shower with the promise of fresh clothes, but your love is finally with you, solid and warm, holding you with strong arms and gentle lips. You can’t hold it back, and when Joel feels it he removes himself and turns you around. “What’s wrong babygirl?” concern contorts his face.

Smiling as much as your crying allows, you answer, “Nothing.”

Understanding, Joel pouts his lips in an emotional smile and pulls you back in, hooking his arms under yours to support your weight, and your arms follow up around his neck. “I know.” You let it go and weep quietly against him. “It’s alright baby. I got’chou. You’re alright, darlin’.” He reassures you. After a couple minutes, you calm, suddenly very tired, barely opening your eyes when Joel pulls away. “Oh, baby,” he chuckles, “don’t go to sleep in the shower. Lemme finish you up real quick, then you can go to bed n’ I’ll get you some new clothes from Maria.”

“No,” you murmur, “don’t leave me.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulls you back in, “I’ll stay with you. I’ll never leave you.” He sighs serenely into the crook of your neck. “You can just borrow some’m my clothes, n’ I’ll talk to Maria in the mornin’. Okay?” You nod. “Alright, baby,” he readjusts his embrace around you, “let’s just get into bed, we can give you a proper shower later. Plenty a time. You can take a shower every day if you want, a hot shower every day. An’ I’ll stay with you every night. Jus’ like like this.” Joel’s hands rub up and down your body, “Warm like this. Every day will be warm jus’ like this now, my love.”

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sister-lucifer · 2 years

Text

The Demon Brothers + Their Love Languages

How do the bros show they love you?

genre: fluff

content/warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

like my writing? i take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio!

Lucifer: Acts of service

Lucifer knows how it feels to have too much on your plate. He knows how exhausting it can be, both physically and mentally, and he has the gray hairs to prove it. He likes to do favors for you when he has the time, even if it’s something small like cooking dinner for you or running an errand when you don’t have time. He’ll do whatever you’ll allow him to to cut down your work load.

Mammon: Gift giving

Definitely the most obvious one. His spending habits are already less then desirable, but he only gets worse with a partner. Every time he sees something even tangentially related to something you like or sees something that makes him think of you, he HAS to have it. After all, who wouldn’t be happy to receive a gift from The Great Mammon?

Leviathan: Quality time + Physical Touch

Sorry, I just couldn’t choose between these two. They both fit Levi so well. For physical touch, he’s very touched starved. Any sort of touch from you is more than enough to have him melting against you. His favorite things are when you scratch his head, or when you slip your hands under his hoodie when you wrap your arms around him. He loves having your hands all over him, and not even in a sexual way. The intimacy of having your hand under his shirt or on his thigh is so blissfully warm.

For quality time, Leviathan bonds through parallel play. You can play video games with him if you’d like, or you can do your own completely separate thing on the other side of the room. No words needed. As long as you’re together and enjoying yourself, Leviathan considers it a date.

Satan: Quality time

There’s nothing Satan loves more than curling up with a good book. Well, besides doing it with you. He loves laying and reading together, commentating on the events of the chapters, theorizing and trying to predict what will happen next. He could sit and talk with you for hours about his favorite series and never get tired.

Asmodeus: Physical touch + Words of affirmation

Asmodeus may be the horny one, but his touch has its tender, sweet moments as well. There’s hardly ever a second when he doesn’t have his arms around you, or at the very least is holding your hand. He likes to hold your face too, and run his hands through your hair. He just thinks you’re perfect all over, and perfection deserves to be admired!

Speaking of which, he is going to tell you how perfect you are all. The. Time. Every second of every day he’s reminding you how beautiful you are, how smart you are, how talented you are, how utterly in love with you he is. Asmodeus holds the cure to all insecurities.

Beelzebub: Acts of service

Beelzebub is the easiest brother to ask for help; he’s not as abrasive or difficult as some of the others can be, and he’s hardly ever busy besides when he’s eating. Why wouldn’t he help? Besides, the look on your face when he lifts the couch for you to retrieve a lost item or when he helps you put together IKEA furniture is more than enough payment for him (although some food in return wouldn’t hurt).

Belphegor: Physical touch

Belphie absolutely loves both using you as a pillow and being used as a pillow. When he’s laying on you, he can snuggle in close and get comfy. He can take in your warmth and lay his head on your chest to hear your calming heartbeat. When you’re laying on him, it’s like having his own personal weighted blanket. The pressure is calming but not restrictive, a constant reminder of your presence.

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leviismybby · 1 year

Note

Hey Klara 🙋‍♀️ Hope you are doing fine and had a great day. Is it ok I can leave a thirst here?

Levi’s pregnant wife who is frustrated and sad that Levi isn’t having sex with her because he is afraid of hurting her and her baby. She believes that it’s because of her body. But the truth is that Levi is having a hard time to keep his hands to himself because his wife looks so ethereal and beautiful and her skin glows. His pants tightens whenever he is near her. So one night her wife gets frustrated and sit on his lap when he is working on paperwork , this caught him off guard and accidentally pressure is put on his crotch. He is in verge of loosing control. He lost his control when she sat on his lap

Hey San! I'm doing good hope you're too! :)) And I'm always up for any Levi thirst.

Warning: NSFW 18+, minors dni, pregnancy sex, praise kink, oral f! receiving, fingering, creampie twice.... (sorry not sorry)

Your eyes lay on the ceiling as you rub your belly, pregnancy has been a rocky journey. Of course, as soon as Levi got the news, he immediately forbid you from doing anything that might put you and his child at risk.

The fact that your husband hasn't touched you in a long time makes you question things. You can't remember the last time you two had sex, maybe three or two months ago.

All of this caused your insecurities to rise, what if he doesn't find you beautiful anymore? After all, you did gain weight due to the pregnancy and the cravings you have.

You get up from your bed and walk over to the mirror, stretch marks are starting to show on your stomach, there are under bags under your eyes and your thighs have gotten bigger as well.

"Love?" Levi says when he sees you in front of the mirror. The way your cute belly sticks out and how gorgeous you looked in his shirt, Levi is bearly containing himself.

"Hey. I was just admiring how big the baby has gotten." You were six months pregnant, almost seven. As soon as the bump started to get noticeable, Levi hasn't been sexually active with you.

And the fact that he still goes out on missions hasn't been comforting either. He always tells you how you have nothing to worry about but the scenes of him not making it back home scare you.

He walks up to you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before leaning down and kissing your stomach. "You took good care of your mom while I was gone hmm?" He stands up again looking directly into those eyes he loves more than anything.

"Levi..." He recognizes that needy tone in your voice and his cock immediately tightens against his pants. Fuck. "Want another kiss." Your hands wrap around his neck.

"I'm afraid not now love, shitty eyebrows gave me tons of paperwork." He dodges your lips and kisses your forehead instead. There is nothing more he wants than to bury his cock deep into you but he is scared. The last thing he wants is to hurt you or your baby.

You pout your lips at him as he leaves another kiss on your cheek before going into his office that's connected to your bedroom. With a sigh you sit back on your bed, Levi was busy and you understand but somehow all the excuses he uses just aren't valid.

He had you before you were pregnant anywhere when you wanted, you didn't even have to ask him twice. Even during the busiest time of the day, he didn't hesitate to bend you over his table.

Now no matter how much you beg, he doesn't touch you.

Levi sits in his office papers laying all over his desk, though they are neatly sorted, he still doesn't have enough space for everything. He finds his mind wandering as the pen writes on the paper, every time he sees you, you become more beautiful.

Now that you are carrying his child somehow you have this beauty that Levi can't explain. The way you look so eternal, so appealing with every month that passes, Levi feels like the control he holds will soon crash down on him.

He barely controlled himself not to jump on you earlier and take you then and there. The doctor has already told him that sex during pregnancy can't hurt the child but he still isn't sure.

He stands up from his chair to check on you and smiles when he finds you asleep. Approaching you carefully, he covers the blanket over you and kisses your forehead.

---------------------------------------------------

A few hours later you wake up, the other side of the bed still empty. It's deep into the night, the moonlight is shining through the windows and you can hear as Levi writes on the paper.

Frustration hits you and slowly you get up stretching your arms before making your way to Levis office. He is sitting in his chair, movements of his hand giving away that he is fed up.

You approach him and levi hears your footsteps. "Love it's late you should go back to sleep." Your husband says as if his eyes don't have dark circles under them.

Without a word, you sneak yourself onto his lap, your back to him. Levi bites his lip as you put pressure on his crotch with your ass. Fuck he is going to explode if you move your hips even slightly again.

"Ah, the papers for recruits? You have always hated filling those up.." You ignore the way his body tenses beneath you, feeling him get hard under you.

"Princess..." The pen drops from his hand and he slips it to your hip, his other hand joining your other hip soon.

"Something wrong Levi?" You look back at him and his breath stops for a moment. Oh, how beautiful you look, he held himself back but he can't anymore.

"Fuck, move your hips for me please." You listen, slowly moving your hips back and forth on his erection. Levis lips find the back of your neck, he plants a few kisses before nibbling on your skin.

"You can touch me you know, I'm not made out of glass just because I'm pregnant." Fuck, he feels like such an idiot. He had his pretty wife before him this entire time and he didn't do anything because he was scared?

Levi picks you up in bridal style, he does it so easily and carries you to your shared room, putting you on the bed gently. His eyes are literally eating you.

"Levi kiss me please." You whine pulling on his jacket and he gives you what you want, kissing you passionately on the lips. His tongue enters your mouth and you tug the jacket off his shoulders.

Janking the fabric off his body, the jacket falls to the floor. Levi runs his hands up and down your thighs massaging them softly still kissing you. He loves how thick they have gotten, he can barely wait to sink his teeth in them.

Levi's lips move onto your cheek, jaw and neck, leaving butterfly kisses along your glowing skin. The advantage that he has of knowing your body so well turns him on even more. His wife. He can't believe how lucky he is to have you.

His lips bite on that sensitive spot on your neck and you whimper, grabbing his hair. "Sensitive are we? I have barely done anything love."

Lord, he lives for it. There isn't anything better than seeing your face drown in pleasure because of him. And even more now, your belly is filled with something the two of you created, a life that will make both of your lives better.

Fingers find the hem of your shirt, his shirt if he is being more precise. He pulls it off of you and almost moans at the sight of your breasts.

You aren't wearing a bra, it's not comfortable. The way Levi is eyeing you makes you want to chuckle, it's like you just gifted him a new broom.

His mouth latches onto your nipple as his hand massages the other one. You moan, your hands tugging on his raven locks making him groan.

"What a pretty sound. Keep singing for me beloved." Your breasts are very sensitive so his every move makes you moan. He pinches your nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

"Levi.." His head moves down lower, his every kiss and touch gentle. You can feel the love from each of the kisses he plants on your stomach.

"You're so sexy, love." The wet kisses move lower and lower until Levi reaches the hem of your shorts. It isn't long before they are on the floor next to his black shirt.

You're in underwear almost completely naked before him. "Levi want you to undress." Levi is quick to remove his uniform, with skilled hands working on the straps of his gear.

He is in his boxers in no time but doesn't fully undress instead leans in, leaving licks on your lower abdomen that lead to your thighs.

"Fuck. I love how plushy they have gotten you know?" That makes you blush, what you thought he would find disgusting, he finds beautiful. Guilt starts to rock your head, how did you even think that Levi would find something ugly about you? The man has done nothing but show you endless love.

Levi notices that your eyes get a little sad and he takes your cheeks into his hands. "What's wrong name? Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's just....I thought that you didn't like how I looked. You haven't touched me in so long." That puts a spear straight through Levis heart, he is such an idiot.

Taking your wrist in his hand, he kisses it before kissing your ring finger. "You're my wife and you're carrying our child. I didn't touch you because I feared that I would hurt you and the baby. I'm so sorry love. I promise I will never make you doubt your beauty again."

He leans down kissing you on the lips as his hands slowly take off your underwear. His fingers gently rub your pussy and he smiles against your lips when he notices your legs spreading even more for him.

His finger runs up and down your slit before he slides it in, making your hands run down his upper body. "So wet." He pulls away from you, lips making their way to your thighs as his finger pumps into your wet cunt.

"Fuck I have missed you." With a little tug on his hair, you signal that you want his mouth on you. What his pretty wife wants, she gets.

His tongue licks up and down as his finger pumps into you, the sounds that leave your mouth makes Levi grunt against your pussy.

He nibbles on your clit, adding a second finger into you. You're leaking all over his fingers, filthy moans leaving your lips.

"That's my pretty girl." Levi says against your pussy as he lets his tongue roam every part of you. His pretty wife.

"I won't last much longer..." You whine into the pillow, pulling the strands of his hair. His tongue goes faster but his fingers are gentle, the perfect combination to bring you to your high.

"Levi...I'm cumming!" You buck your hips against his face and he lets you ride out your high, fingers still in you and tongue still working on your clit.

"Cum love, cum all over my tongue." And you do, your juices dripping down Levi's arm all the way down to his elbow. But he doesn't mind the mess, not when it comes to you.

"There you go pretty girl." He kisses up your belly, leaving wet patches all over your bump. "Want me inside?"

"Yes please." Running your hands down his strong biceps, you bite your lip. How you have missed this perfect body of his.

You pull him down to you, planting kisses on his neck as he hovers above you, making sure not to put too much weight on you and the baby.

He takes off his boxers, positioning his cock at your entrance. "You ready love?" Pulling back from his neck, you settle your head into a comfortable position.

"Yes." Levi parts your thighs and slowly enters you. Fuck its like you were made for him. "Oh shit.."

When he feels your walls ease around him, he starts thrusting slowly into you. Pulling out almost entirely before shoving himself back into your pussy.

It's just been a long time, he wants to remember every part of you. "Missed fucking you baby. So much." He huff's through his teeth, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.

Levi pulls your knees further apart so that he can reach the deepest part of you with his cock. "Oh Levi.." Your hands grip the sheets as he starts getting faster.

"Yeah? Like this princess?" He starts getting ruthless with his movements, taking your leg over his shoulder and kissing your calf.

"Fuck yes Levi! Harder please!" Fear is no longer the concern with Levi, he sees how good this is making you feel and does what you ask for, going harder.

He wont last much longer, its been too long for him, especially when your walls clench around his length. You're close too.

"Gonna breed this pussy again. What a gorgeous wife I have." He starts moaning your name getting messy with his thrusts, the faces and noises you're making only add to his pleasure.

"Levi! Please I'm-!" You don't finish your sentence cuming all over his cock. "Me too love." He lets your leg fall back on the bed an leans down to kiss you passionately as he cums inside of you.

"Want you to ride me please." Whispering in your ear, Levi massages your legs. "Want you to use me as you please, take it as an apology."

Smiling, you draw imaginary lines on his naked chest. "Only if you cum inside me again."

"Wasn't planing on doing it anywhere else." He gets off of you and positions himself so that his head is leaning against the head board.

You're quick to get on top of him as your hands settle on his upper body. Levi places his hands onto your thighs, impatiently waiting for you to put him inside of you.

Llifting your hips slightly, you position yourself on top of his cock before sinking down on him. "Oh fuck!" You let out as his cock enters you.

Unlike Levi, you start moving your hips in a quick pace making him throw his head against the head board. "Shit you're desperate aren't you?"

"Weren't you the one begging for me to ride you?" You slow your movements a little, teasing him. At this angle, his cock hits the deepest parts of you and you want to savor the moment.

"Princess...move faster please." He looks mighty, his hair is dripping with sweat, his toned hands holding your thighs, his chest heaving up and down, cheeks flushed. Truly the most beautiful man to exist.

You feel him twitch inside of you and you decide to stop torturing him, moving your hips faster and harder. His cum is dripping out of you, causing his lower stomach to be moist.

"Just like t-that." He won't last much longer, you can tell by the way his eyes are starting to get watery from the amount of pleasure he is feeling.

"You gonna cum hmm Levi?" His hips start bucking into your, meeting your pace. Both of you are a moaning mess.

"Y-yes gonna cum for you. Only for you princess." One of his hands travels to your clit, rubbing it. Your nails dig into his chest as you feel fire burning in your lower stomach.

"L-Levi!" His warm seed fills you once more and you cum around his length. You stay on top of him for a few seconds, before flopping on your back beside him, his cum leaking down your thighs.

"I changed the sheets for nothing yesterday.." He says and you laugh. "Change them again just not now. I didn't say that we were done."

"Needy girl." He chuckles, looping his arm around you and kissing your belly. "Do you hear that little one? Your mom is a freak."

"Any girl would be if they had you as their husband."

---------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @notgoodforlife @the-milk-anon @youre-ackermine @yakaaamoz @sixpennydame @levisbrat25 @lovolee3 @levisgreyeyes @laraackerman @luvjiro

#levi #levi ackerman #aot levi #captain levi #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman smut

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esprei · 2 years

Text

VOLO TIME *cue piano* OK SO... I’ve been meaning to write this up for a while now - my thoughts, observations and general musings on Volo (and maybe a headcanon or two?) (please keep in mind this will be very jumbled - literally just me trying to talk about why this character has grown on me and why I love him so much now so without further ado, let’s go! also, big shoutout to @sunnyluma for helping grab most of these screenshots tyyyyyy ;-;)

((under a cut because this will be loooong))

Ah, Volo... where do I even start? I was pretty indifferent towards him at first and the same can be said as I played through the game. I honestly thought that he was just a Legends Arceus version of Cynthia, nothing more nothing less (since, y’know he had similar looks, mannerisms and things, not to mention the whole various characters as ancestors bit). For some reason gen 4 is the gen that resonates with me the least (I’ve uh... never actually finished a gen 4 game or fought Cynthia 😬), and while I do think Cynthia is a really cool champion and character in general, I definitely don’t feel a lot of the same hype for her that others do. So that, in turn, applied to Volo for me as well. It was like a... he’s just there kind of situation. But fast forward from finishing the game to hyperfixation on submas to maybe... two months ago? Three now? I dunno, can’t remember the timeline, but what I DO remember is looking at Volo one day and being like... wow. He’s cool. I like him. More specifically, I was looking at his character design sheet at the time. And in that moment it really sank in that, wow this guy is freaking tall. 190cm? equivalent to 6′3″? What in the world. And just... something about that cocky smirk of his in his artwork, coupled with the fact that it’s right next to his goofy Arceus cosplay with that hair... He hooked me. Seriously. Look at him:

(This outfit has also grown on me btw I unironically love it because look at him he’s in his Arceus cosplay and he confidently rocks it like i can’t-) Anyway part of it is probably because I love characters who have crazy or sinister expressions. They can be fun! So then I rewatched the cutscene that happens after you win against him and Giratina because I couldn’t quite recall the sequence of events that happened there and I was curious. And MAN I was shocked... I did not really remember ANY of this?? Seriously, there’s so much packed into these last few lines before he walks away (forever... sobs...). I feel like I really see a glimpse into Volo’s complexity during this whole cutscene. Or, at the very least, his insecurities. Just take the following for example:

HE LOOKS SO SAD... SERIOUSLY, this particular little scene always gets to me. Like... ok. Yeah, he not too long before this ordered Giratina to strike you down to get the plates because he said he wasn’t above using force to get them from you, but it’s here where I really see a guy who’s questioning himself in this moment. It’s like he’s putting so much worth into Arceus’s view of him, he’s so convinced that he’s the chosen one because of his bloodline that when Arceus doesn’t choose him he’s lost. Confused. Surprised Pikachu face even.

I dunno... we unfortunately don’t have a lot of backstory on him, but I feel like this guy has (or feels like he has) a lot of pressure on his shoulders due to the nature of belonging to a bloodline that has pretty much since died out, save for himself and Cogita. Or maybe even that he put that pressure on himself? Which brings me to this... a scene that REALLY caught my attention when watched it again because I actually read what he says???

If you follow me over on twitter, you might have seen me talk about this scene a while back - more specifically what he says in the first two screenshots. It’s honestly one of the ones that led me to look into Volo even more because seriously... Volo. Who or what hurt you. What happened. Talk to me. PLEASE...

In all seriousness though, the lack of backstory kills me because I like to imagine something tragic happened to him in the past for him to have this viewpoint. And to not only have this viewpoint but to be driven enough to make a change in the world... err... rather, just make a new one!

But. Back to the lines after you defeat him and Giratina... what stands out to me here as well is Volo’s admission and acceptance of defeat. Watching it back the first time I was honestly a little caught off guard. He really kinda humbles himself and gives you the last plate, the Spooky Plate, admitting that his journey ended when lost to you. I don’t really focus too much on the other Pokemon villains admittedly so I’m not sure if others did this, but this sequence just stuck out to me because he gives it up after being so aggressive right before this. Like before he was confident, smug, hellbent on doing everything that he could to get you out of his way, you outsider, then when he Giratina ran off he was at first angry, then confused, questioning Arceus about it all, left with burning questions that he can’t bear not knowing the answer to... It’s like this man goes through the five stages in grief all in the span of like... 30 seconds.

Seriously, this man looks tired here. Done. Defeated. He knows it’s over.

He accepts it all, even if it’s just for a moment. ...Then right after that the Azure Flute forms for you and he’s right back to being an angry, petulant brat about it all... But that’s why I love him! He’s morally gray. He fights with himself, he fights with the internal emotional turmoil that he’s feeling about you being the one Arceus wants to see rather than him, about him not being good enough for Arceus to spare him even a second of its time, him thinking that he was doing something that needed to be done, rebuilding a new world free from pain and strife and other horrible things he’s had to experience, that others have no doubt experienced... (at least, this is what I see asfkldfj) And all of that, at least to me, makes him more interesting than the Volo I had first impressions of. Makes him feel more human to me. More than just “oh shoot, he’s the Cynthia ancestor who’s actually the villain instead of Cyllene!” Like... yeah. He made bad choices. He tried to use Giratina to strike you down. He wanted to subjugate Arceus and force it to create a brand new world, erasing the current one. Not a good look. I’m not trying to excuse any of that, and I’m not the best at organizing these thoughts probably, and I will admit that I also saw Volo as the manipulative, conniving guy early on because for me it was such a twist that he was the villain, so that’s what I focused on. And why he was such a great twist villain for me was because of the setup. By that, I mean you already had a well established character in Cynthia right - an all good, helpful, friendly and strong person - then you apply that to Volo and... boom. HE’S NOT THAT?? I was thinking at a certain point it was just going to be Kamado as the big bad because of the events that unfold, which is why with Volo it was EVEN BETTER because you had that sort of fake out I guess (for lack of a better term)? Kamado banishes you from Jubilife, Volo finds you in Obsidian Fieldlands and helps you, takes you to Cogita to help with the lake spirits and the Red Chain and all, you eventually hear that Kamado is going up to the temple to deal with the rift, then after those events Volo gets kinda sus at the Giratina statue riiiiight before you go up to the temple and then when you get up there... JACKET COMES OFF, OUTFIT CHANGE, etc etc. And like... I get why some people just do not like Volo and never will. I respect that. Trust me, I did NOT like Melli during the main game at all, I’ll tell you what. The little bit of background we get on him in the daybreak update was what changed my view on him, though. And for me what changed my general view on Volo were these scenes. I dunno, maybe I’m a broken record at this point, and maybe I’m a little biased now because I adore him, but I now see him as someone who maybe in the beginnings had noble intentions and just ended up going down the wrong path unfortunately.

Like... look. Right after he questions Arceus about what he’s lacking he asks this:

To me, he’s doubting it all now. And like the moments I mentioned above, him questioning the grand ol’ creator what it is he’s lacking, what makes him not good enough, we see a bit of his human side. Scenes like these and scenes like when he gives you the Spooky Plate lead me to think he has a lot of insecurities hidden underneath that confident (and other times cheery and playful) demeanor. Whether it’s a burden, an expectation, his own self-imposed pressures... there’s just a smidge that we can see and so much more that could be possible if he had more story elements focused on him. (WHICH IS WHY I WANT PLA DLC SO BAD I KNOW IT’S WISHFUL THINKING BUT PLEASE) I’d also like to mention that I think it’s very very interesting that his trainer class for his last battle is “Pokemon Wielder” rather than the “Ginkgo Guild Member” class he has for his other battles. I don’t feel like “Pokemon Wielder” is negative in its connotation - rather, I’d like to think that it derives from his bloodline, the Celestica people, and the thought that perhaps they were the first tamers of Pokemon in the land of Hisui. This thought is due to the fact that he’s excited to see another person (you) who uses Pokeballs for their Pokemon (rather than the Diamond and Pearl clans whose leaders and wardens do not use Pokeballs at all - with Ingo being the (other) exception to that rule of course). That coupled with the fact that he looks genuinely disappointed that more people don’t use them (this line here):

And, of course, how can I fail to mention his Pokemon team itself? Look. Really. If you know anything about me lately it is that I ADORE the idea of Volo adoring his Togepi. Which then would evolve into a Togetic through high friendship. And then into a Togekiss through use of Shiny Stone, but you get my point right? Budew into Roselia, Riolu into Lucario... Yes, I know, I know, Volo is Hisuian Cynthia so the team matches for the most part outside of H. Arcanine, and the joke about him gaslighting his Pokemon into evolving is funny on the surface, but in reality I think he genuinely loves his Pokemon. For goodness sake, there’s a photo of him and Togepi outside of the photo booth! And and and the standee that was recently announced as merch?!

LOOK AT HOW HE HOLDS LITTLE TOGEPI. YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN DOESN’T LOVE HIS EGG. LOOK AT HOW HE HOLDS EGG. EGG DAD. ...Sorry. Got a little carried away there. But yes! I think he loves his Pokemon, genuinely. Which is why it kills me when he says this:

Like bro. Your Pokemon were right there in that battle. VOLO PLEASE- (ALSO JUST A QUICK MENTION ABOUT THIS LINE, it also leads me to think that he’s kinda... always been alone for the most part, outside of his Pokemon team maybe 🥺 probably more of a headcanon than anything but that’s just how I feel sdflkjsdlfkj) Alright... I think I’ve said enough at this point and it’s a mess and I’m not too sure I can ever put quite how I feel about Volo into proper words because I’m not the best at this kind of thing but... I just want to say that he’s a character that I have accelerated in love and appreciation for because he’s just... I dunno, he’s got a lot going on. And I think maybe some of that gets missed because of his ties to Cynthia and his betrayal. But I’m reaaaaaally hoping to see him again in the near future. A random house in one of the cities either in the new region or in Unova (if we get B/W remakes) will suffice 🥲 So uh... YEAH. tl;dr I think Volo is a great character with a little more under the surface than just the villain reveal twist at the end of the game and I’m rooting for him all the way. Him and Togepi (Togekiss?).

Alright. That’s all I got! Byeeeee y’all 👋

#pokemon volo #volo #ginkgo guild volo #sorry i tried my best to make this.... sorta organized #and i did my best to get the sequence right so apologies if i missed anything #i prrrrrobably forgot something #but that's ok! ;w;#anyway yeah this man ruined my marriage my life he toOK EVERYTHING FROM ME #he lives in my head rent free #send help please

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cowboyshit · 2 months

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If I remember correctly, I think Evil Uno said something along the lines of Adam still not being happy even when he was champion. What are your thoughts on that?

oh, you don't even KNOW how excited I am about this ask. I'm going to have to tuck my answer under a readmore. this was honestly a change in hangman's character that I LOVED and always wished could have been more fully played out.

firstly, yes! evil uno told adam specifically: [The Dark Order was] there for your big moment when you won the championship, but you weren't happy. You never seemed happy. I don't know if you thought this was going to be your big moment and it wasn't enough. I hope you find what does makes you happy, but I don't think that championship was it.

I felt like this was a subtle piece of story that most people did NOT pick up on until it was a little too late, because adam lost the belt and couldn't continue telling whatever character arc he'd been working on - which I will ALWAYS BE UPSET ABOUT. some of his best work is in the subtlety of his long-term storytelling and in the brief time he had the belt we saw him go from happy to have it, to feeling the pressure of carrying the belt and the matches he was having to go through, to these brief moments where he would act like the weight of it felt burdensome. there's even a shot (one of my favorites) where he's walking down the ramp with it on his shoulder and he looks over at it and seems upset that it's there.

which is so FASCINATING for a character who chased after it for years with such a hunger, it oftentimes blew up years-long friendships. for a character who proclaimed at the very start of the company that they WOULD be the champion, to finally hold it, and not actually feel satisfied? TRAGIC! the story wasn't the chase for the belt, the story was that he needed to believe IN HIMSELF. he thought once he was holding it and he was champion all of those insecurities that had berated him for years would magically disappear, but they didn't. In fact, the insecurities stuck on even stronger, because now he had to prove that he was capable of holding it, capable of representing this company. the spotlight was front and center on him.

also, shortly after he became champion, adam added one of my favorite songs to his playlist: heavy crown by trixie matel

Heavy head and a heavy crown Had a few since you came to town Where are you gonna keep them still? Winning's losing with a couple strings It's a choosing between two things It's a two-piece suit or all the frills Did you ever think that if you got everything All the records, they don't play the same?

take into account that it was kenny he won the belt from? that added on so much more pressure!!! I honestly was fascinated by the turn of his mood toward the belt and the way he was beginning to lash out again because of it. it was such an intriguing turn of events, versus "he won the belt and now he lived happily ever after"

there was so many avenues of storytelling that I could see adam building up when he held the title, and I will always find myself a little curious to know how that story might've kept playing out. even if he (when he) gets the title again, it won't be this story again, since his character arc has grown in too far of a direction.

although I am curious what that story will be - a lot of people don't pay close enough attention to understand the stories adam is trying to tell. I think he's sorely overlooked as a storyteller in this business and I wish I could scream from the rooftops how much of a mastermind he is.

#ashley answers #you happened to ask something thats one of my favorite things I dont often get to talk about

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sepublic · 2 years

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Honestly, I just… Feel BAD for Belos at this point. He’s easily the most pitiable character in the entire show, Philip Wittebane has probably suffered more than anyone else, in a way that is 100% deserved, karmic, that he totally brought on himself and can’t blame anyone or anything else for. Belos has just been constantly wallowing in this cold bitterness for the vast majority of his existence, been defined by it; He’s like freaking Ebenezer Scrooge.

Philip’s so lonely and desperate for validation that it’ll make him act stupid around Luz as he latches onto her for validation, even as poor Luz cringes because she does NOT want this guy, she didn’t ask for him, but at the same time she has to humor Philip’s pathetic delusions for the sake of everyone else. Thinking you’re better than everyone else, that they’re all lowly and subhuman, is inevitably an isolating experience.

And like! He very easily COULD have companionship, he has an entire SOCIETY and its generations fawning at his feet. But he refuses it, because it doesn’t match Philip’s arbitrary criteria. It’s such a sad waste, really. He wants a playmate and best friend, but under a VERY specific set of circumstances, in his own way, and it’s just… As Eda said, you sometimes just gotta step out and make your own family with what you have, instead of waiting and expecting it; Even IF it’s technically destiny for Philip to have another human ‘friend’ show up.

Is that part of his unhealthy obsession with Luz? She’s a human who helped him back when he was Philip, and even after centuries as Belos, she still didn’t fail to return to him after all that time and effort. It could’ve fed his delusions that Caleb would do the same. Belos is a manchild who misses and longs for his older brother to take care of him like before, and he’s throwing a tantrum over the loss. He wants a replacement, but on his own specific terms, because any other way would acknowledge that he can’t go back to the way things were, and isn’t that something we can all relate to? But even as he does everything to keep things the same or restore them, perform damage control, it just keeps getting worse.

He’s so clearly insecure, needling Luz for approval and validation from a peer. He’s like playdough in the palm of her hands under the right circumstances, look at how she makes Philip feel self-conscious over his fit! He knows and suspects that the world has changed, he’s collected the human garbage over the years, no doubt as some twisted form of sentimentality. The false vision he gives the Coven Heads proves that he’s aware of modern architecture. But maybe that’s just a SURFACE-level change, right?

He’s “How do you do fellow kids” but also to humans because he’s realizing he’s out of touch with THEM too, he’s become so lonely his monstrous form is symbolic, losing for himself what he sought for in others; So yet another thing he’s missed, a specific definition of humanity, is gone too. Belos wants to be told he’s still doing the “human” thing correctly even as he becomes something very much not.

Philip just flips back and forth between so easily vulnerable in his desperation, to frighteningly dangerous and petulant when he doesn’t get what he wants after sacrificing and prostrating himself; It must be terrifying, being on the receiving end of someone who places so much faith and responsibility as a burden on your shoulders, the pressure! He really is like the Collector, more than he’d like to admit. And now that cursed mirror of his, reflected in a literal mirror, has taken everything from him; As did Luz, playing into Belos’ insecurities, it must be utterly humiliating.

All in a way he brought on himself, of course; He CHOSE to project onto poor Luz, convinced himself he was her Eda, her jaded older mentor who finds a kid to adopt and teach, even as she fills the emptiness in his heart left by his forsaken older sibling, lost to the wrong cause. She PLAYED him, how could Luz be so cruel, Philip feels so bad for his poor self and wants to curl up and cry! Eda sometimes acted a bit rash in wanting to impress Luz for her approval, but this…!

It’s like he’s being punished for opening up, exposing his own soft spots in the process to someone he expects to be tender with, and then shuts himself up again once hurt; Because NEVER again, he just gets more and more embittered and cynical, more certain of the world as this cruel place that’s targeting HIM specifically. He rejects humans and thus his own humanity in the process. First Caleb, then the Grimwalkers, now Luz…

And now, Philip’s back home, and it’s all changed, the original idyllic vision that he depended on. It’s all been for nothing. Philip has tortured himself with the transformations, the mutations, and it’s all for nothing. Everyone loves Halloween and witches now. His home is unrecognizable to himself, as is he. He’s gone from a human to a drop of green goop. He’s become the feared cryptid monster alluded to in bedtime stories, the one Caleb would’ve protected him from. Philip’s been through so much mourning and agony over Caleb, over his idyllic and nostalgic childhood. I can’t imagine the physical agony as Philip rebuilt himself, wanting to scream but not allowing himself to remain hidden.

At this point, I HOPE he dies; Not because I’m sick of his character. But because it’d be a mercy killing. With all of his pain and agony and unsustainable wishes, with the childish and naïve certainty that he’s right, leaping at the chance to be told he’s right, the worn-down feeling over the years… For all my scorn, I also feel sympathy for the devil. He’s like Senator Armstrong, despicable but also legitimately hurt, he just wants this stupid world to make sense!

I hope that in death, Philip Wittebane can finally find the peace he’s been searching for, the rest he’s agonized and longed for over lifetimes beyond what any human should endure, amidst the green, green grass of home. There just isn’t any other course for this sad, tormented soul, beyond some blissful ignorance and denial in his dying visions of Caleb accepting him in the afterlife, having made it to heaven after all thanks to Philip’s timely intervention, having been shown the light after all! He DID save Caleb, they can be together, are you proud of me Caleb…?

I fucking LOVE villains with very human grief and loneliness who also totally brought this on themselves and are just so desperately deluded and isolated in their denial, in their futile coping by throwing themselves against this unsustainable idea, just the most PITIABLE and pathetic fucker ever. Still clinging because they’ll have nothing left if they let go. Philip is a sobbing child, kicking and screaming and burping because someone was mean to him, hurt his feelings and took his favorite toy away.

The world is always revolving around HIM and HIS comfort, so Pip can’t comprehend how anyone could be mean to him because he’s like the Main Character or something. He can’t understand that other people have their own lives and needs and wants outside of him, as Caleb did; It drives him MAD. He can’t keep living like this, with this shattered innocence and realization, and hopefully Philip won’t have to anymore. Not by living denial, because that clearly hasn’t worked across centuries of trial and error, chances; But with ignorant death. What a disturbing dude, not just to us but even himself.

It’s funny. Philip convinced himself of a recognition of the self in the other (affectionate) in Luz, while desperately ignoring the recognition of the self in the other (derogatory) in the Collector, whom he’s spent more time with than anyone else. I suppose a kid who truly reminds himself of who he really is would be the worst, because seeing another Main Character like you just hammers in that you’re not THE Main Character if others are; You’re not special if others feel the same as you. Empathy is the worst idea ever to a racist colonizer, imagine.

#the owl house #philip wittebane #emperor belos #character analysis

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kuroosdarling · 2 years

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HIS LIGHT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : hurt/comfort. angsty in the beginning as reader deals with insecurity and self doubt but kuroo comes in to give us all a gentle reminder <3 — wc : 900 words

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : okay so i wrote this in the midst of my break to use as a lil outlet and i didn’t know if i wanted to post it BUT why not lmfao. i just love this man so much it actually makes me go insane 😵‍💫 giving everyone big hugs <3

sometimes all you can do is look at the world at eye-level. it’s too much energy to look up or down, all you can do is fixate on what's right in front of you. it captivated your attention like nothing else, stealing all your focus away. it’s all you can do to keep yourself together.

but when you look up to see the clouds, it’s hard to say whether or not it makes you feel better. in a perfect world, you’d be able to fly up there to touch the clouds whenever you had a bad day. but reality was nothing but brutal, firmly planting you on the ground when it’s the last place you want to be.

the bug on the window scurried around, moving in uncertain circles. it looked as lost as you felt. whirling around, trying to break through the window so it could fly far away from here and let the wind take it as far as it wanted to go. if you couldn’t do that, who’s to stop it from doing what you desperately sought out. you open the window and watch it fly out, taking your last bit of hope with it.

as soon as you closed the window, your tear ducts opened up. tears flowing freely down your face, covering every part of your skin with its melancholy, finally having enough of being held back.

when you cried like this, it felt like the pressure in your chest was so tight it was going to snap all your heartstrings. nothing hurt deeper than this kind of pain as it burrowed down, clutching its claws into you. the debilitating pain in knowing you weren’t enough, weren’t needed; casted aside like you didn’t matter.

the worst part is you were a burden. or at least, those were the words that kept ringing in your head. with each rise and fall of your sob, your breath hitched, catching itself on all the sickly sticky emotions that flowed through your veins.

strong arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you in tight. a familiar scent filled your nostrils, so strong that it went past all the snotty phlegm that ran out of your nose. you melted into the warm touch.

“hey, it’s okay.” his soft voice rang in your ears, the effect already quieting your busy mind. “breathe for me, please.” his breathing was smooth, solid. something you longed for and craved dearly. it didn’t take long for your breathing to sync up with his. the one that grounded you, firmly planting himself so he could hold onto you, keeping you from floating too far away.

“tetsu.” you sob, turning around quickly so you could bury your face in his chest, snot and all. not like he cared about that, all he cared about was holding you closely, rubbing soothing circles along your back; making sure you’re okay. his large hand planted itself on the back of your head, pulling you to him so he could land a plethora of kisses along the crown of your head.

“you’re okay, i’m here. go ahead and let it out, you’re safe here with me.” he cooed at you, his voice was sweeter than a lullaby; seemingly tucking you into bed and wrapping his love around you. nothing felt safer than being in his strong arms, his hold secure on you. he’d never let anything bad happen to you and it breaks his heart to see you in such a state.

“h-how’d you know?” you asked through sniffles, your voice cracking under the pressure. it wasn’t unusual for kuroo to find you like this on some days, but you hadn’t even texted him yet. you hadn’t let him know that your day had gotten so bad.

“i was coming by to check on you and i heard you crying. i needed to make sure you were okay.” his voice was still so soft, a delicacy that you weren’t familiar with but it pulled you in nonetheless.

even through your tears, kuroo had a knack for making your smile shine through. nothing made him happier than seeing the small curl of your lip; his silent victory. the action alone had his heart fluttering against his chest, begging to be released so he could pour out all the love he held for you.

“always so thoughtful, tetsu.” the smile on your face spread a little more as you wipe your tears. kuroo’s light always lit the way through all of your darkest tunnels. not as a guide, but as a companion. following your pace as you navigate yourself out of the darkness, his support motivating you to break free. “what would i do without you?”

“sh, you’ll never have to find out.” he smiled down at you, his hazel eyes burning so brightly, so fiercely. he was determined to be there for you as long as you let him. whether it be someone to vent to, a shoulder to cry on, or even just someone to share your silence with, he’d show up for you every time. you smile back, burrowing in closer to him as you start to calm down, relief flowing through you as his hold never lets up.

sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to. it’ll knock you on your ass, putting a stop to your world as reality continues on. even trying to get your footing proved to be a difficult task as everyone around you seemed to have no problem with it. the comparison adding another unnecessary weight down on you.

but with little reminders like the one you graciously received from kuroo, let you know that at the end of the day, you are loved. you are enough. there is always going to be greatness within you and he’d be damned to let you forget that.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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raisedbythetv89 · 11 months

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I’m seeing a post saying “Riley isn’t terrible he’s just a 23 year old guy” and to that I say let’s look at a brief summary of his behavior,

Riley: That girl is weird but everyone around me likes her which is strange to me but I guess I like her?? Literally completely unaware of his feelings then later:

No buffy you’re stupid. Me, who didn’t know my own feelings and couldn’t even approach you without going to your friend for advice and help first, knows you better than you. I don’t care about your past heartbreak you should stop being afraid and try again because I said so without knowing literally anything about it or you

Pulls a gun on angel when literally the only person a gun would hurt is Buffy and just ASSUMES Buffy cheated on him without confirming anything first and starts acting like a lunatic and then instead of taking accountability he blames how strong he feels about buffy as a justifiable reason for behaving erratic and dangerous

Says shit like “I don’t even know if I can take you” when he learns about what an impressive slayer she is. When both spike and angel have said buffy IS STRONGER THAN THEM so no Riley you cannot take her…. Always disregarding her strength and the importance of her calling

Sleeps with Faith/Buffy because he refuses to take Buffy’s warnings about her seriously and so isn’t on high alert for anything that could be off and doesn’t even hesitate when buffy is acting SUPER WEIRD. Make all the excuses you want, her boyfriend should have known something was wrong and waited to be intimate until he figured out what was wrong

Continually victim blames buffy for everything that happens with Dracula and not believing she didn’t secretly want it because of “her history with angel”

Recreates angel trauma of basically threatening suicide and being willing to die in front of her while heavily implying this is her fault because he cannot STAND the idea of being weak around her, making her think he wishes she wasn’t the slayer, adding to her growing insecurities WHILE HER MOTHER IS SICK

Then is shocked and surprised she’s not this super emotional woman always falling apart in his arms when things get hard with her mother when she’s been the strong one for the family and her friend group AND THE WORLD for five years at this point and has literally died - again showing he doesn’t want or understand the slayer. Also why would she ever depend on someone with such a fragile ego who has lost it on SEVERAL occasions during the course of their relationship (how he handled maggie’s attempt on Buffy’s life and discovering spike, threatening the woman in the demon bar while buffy is BEGGING him to calm down, ignoring a fatal health condition for ego, handling the whole angel thing and drac HORRIBLY like if you’re a normal person sure whatever but you fought to date the slayer you gotta be better than this under pressure dude) Riley does not have the mental or physical strength to support her and then is like “why won’t you let me support you??” Like bro bsffr you can’t and you not understanding that is a PROBLEM.

Further proving how unreliable he is while she is dealing with a sick mother, glory, school, and just her general Slayer duties he puts her and her entire family at risk by going to the suck house (could you imagine the harm that could have been done if someone knew he was the slayers bf and turned him) because he needs to feel “needed” when he IS and WAS needed by buffy but just not in the ways he wanted so he had a whole ass tantrum and betrayed buffy in literally the worst way imaginable and being SUCH a hypocrite after he talked sooooo much about buffy having a thing for vampires and then blames her and spike for his own failings and selfish choices!

And then when he should be groveling for forgiveness he’s like you have to talk to me because I’m leaving unless we talk and you forgive me which is SOOOO fucked up. Like I cheated on you and betrayed you and put you and your family at risk but if you don’t forgive me immediately and accept blame for my failures I’m leaving you and going where I’m NEEDED. Because he is an actual child throwing a tantrum

And don’t even get me STARTED on as you were 🤢

He is constantly making buffy feel like she is wrong, bad, too strong, too distant, stupid and when he cheats on her, completely worthless and like everything bad in his life is somehow her responsibility to fix instead of his.

The fans have such a strong reaction to him because he is never called out or properly held accountable/villainized for all the harm he causes to buffy in the show and that lack of accountability causes all of us to feel a very justifiable outrage. So no we aren’t overreacting he has MANY crimes that go far beyond an average man in his 20’s

Basically, man tells woman she doesn’t know what she’s talking about and then is very upset and takes it out on woman over and over again when it turns out she did know what she was talking about. He succcckkkkksssss

#buffy the vampire slayer #rileyhateclub #shut up riley #btvs #btvsrant

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anfie-in-the-box · 1 year

Text

X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week

Notes

Yeah, I'm a mess and have decided to write both prompts for each day of Dark Cream Week. Is it crazy? Yes, especially since I write rather slowly and with lots of difficulties and insecurities. Does it work out? It does, kinda. Did I manage? Who knows! Definitely not present-me, not yet, it's still a bit before the actual Week when I'm making this post. It's okay though, even if I end up not finishing. It's way more than what I've written for events before this one, so it's a win anyway! I am quite proud of myself.

No real spoilers for Turns, twists, and paradoxes, but feel free to skip my works for Dark Cream Week if you prefer reading the main piece chronologically!

。。。

Sacrifice

To survive, Dream sacrifices parts of himself. His kindness. His helpfulness. His understanding. His empathy. Everything he used to be goes away, forming something new. He's not sure what yet. It's dark, heavy with the burden of the entire world, bent on revenge for all the unfairness in the Multiverse, and in so much pain it wants the others to feel it too. Dream never knew he could be so cruel and wish others harm, but the curse changes him, bending and twisting but never breaking. Dream can't let himself break. Can't let the curse win. So he fights, choosing the lesser evil, being evil to everyone but his family. His loved ones.

Dream keeps the balance within himself, feeding his soul shattered positive feelings of thousands of humans and monsters he doesn't know yet never hurting those who truly matter. It's a fickle process, but Dream manages. He's hurt Cross enough before meeting Nightmare in that clever illusion of his. He failed to support his brother before everything started. Nevermore. Not if he can help it.

"Dream?" He startles at Cross' voice so near. Dream didn't notice him coming closer. "Are you okay?"

Dream smiles slightly, "I am. Just lost in thought."

"Whatever about?"

"How atrocious the world has been to all of us, mostly." Dream finds Cross' hand and caresses it gently with his. Cross smiles at him, content and peaceful, at least as much as even possible. "Never gets old, that. We were all good in our own ways and look what it's done to us. I've never hurt in return, despite the way I was abused my whole life, and what good did it do to me?" he pauses, then confesses, "It's so nice to be angry. So freeing. I've always tried to stay positive and bring light to everyone in need; I never let myself properly experience negative emotions, and only now I realise how unhealthy it was. I was miserable and in denial, and now that nothing stops me anymore…" Dream trails off, at a loss of words.

"It's okay if you don't know how to express yourself," Cross reassures, taking both Dream's hands in his. "It's also okay to be angry. You have every right to feel whatever emotion you feel at the moment. You're a person, not a perfect angel, and that's okay, too. I'm just sorry I never saw the pressure you were under before," he says quietly. "I'm sorry you felt like this was the only way."

Dream frees one of his hands and pets Cross' cheek, so very gently. "I forgive you." There's undeniable fondness in his voice, but also sadness. Dream's sorry, too. But that's exactly how unfair the world has been to them. That's exactly his point. They tried so hard, and it didn't change anything. There was no happy ending. But maybe there will be. Dream hopes.

Oh, how he hopes.

So maybe he's not sacrificing his old self after all. Maybe he's just hiding it deep inside, only for his loved ones to see. He's still different, even with them; he's sharper, tougher, more resolute. But that's alright. Because…

"I love you," Cross whispers.

Yeah. That's why.

"I love you too."

。。。

Credits

。。。

Notes

I love how different it is from Egoism, its dual piece. Dream is steadier here, more certain, although he still has a long way to go. It's really interesting to observe.

#anfie writes #x-tra dark cream fic #dark cream week #dark cream #shattered!dream #cross!sans #utmv

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brainlessrot · 2 years

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heyo !! i rlly like the way you write! I was wondering if you could do some headcanons abt younger sibling!reader teasing the dorm leaders bc sibling!reader is taller? Things like: “You’re so small! I bet others think i’m the oldest.” and things like that, just some playful bonding between siblings!

if not that, then some general first year headcanons with Yuu! Just best friends making a mess and relying on Yuu to save em.

i like the first one, so don't worry!!

sorry if it took to long, my original draft didn’t save so i had to re-do it all and i lost all hope for a second lol

Contents ;; tall! younger sibling! GN! reader, pure fluff

Characters ;; Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Dorm Leaders - Younger Sibling Reader being taller than them

Riddle ;;

he hates you

joking, but oh seven, you are so annoying

since he is already conscious with his height, having you as his little sibling undermines his ego as the older golden child

you give him grey hairs, like, one day of these hes gonna pop a vein from how much you stress him

you’re gonna be the reason for his second overblot

you and floyd either hate each other’s guts or are best friends, no in between, you’re either partners in crime or you believe only you get to make fun of your older brother

collars you minimum once per day, at the very best of your behaviour, only five times, a record!

depending on if you went through the same childhood as his, he’ll go from overprotective to severely overprotective, anyone who dares get near his little sibling with bad intentions will not keep their head

but seriously, please give this man a break

“Get your arm off of my head. NOW.” Riddle was trembling under your hand, face almost as red as his hair, a vein on his forehead pulsating as he stared daggers up at you. When you made no movement to retire your arm from on top of his head, he took action, one of his hands swatting you away from him, while the other reached for his magic pen. You bent forward, now on eye level with your brother, why, you asked him, will you get “angy”? And that’s when his blood pressure sky rocketed, the hand he had previously folded around his magic pen surged forward, glowing tip pointed at you. “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.”

Leona ;;

also hates you,

only half joking

he already has an inferiority complex, so the fact that you’re even taller than him makes him seethe

even if you’re annoying and get on his nerves all of the time, if someone ever calls you “giraffe” or “elephant” (or any other big herbivore) he will go apeshit because how DARE they call his younger sibling, a Kingscholar, a damn HERBIVORE.

if you’re ever too annoying, he will grab you by the scruff

you put things in places he did not even know where possible to reach, and he hates it

you’re also the reason of his second overblot

if you ever get the balls of putting your arm on his head, or EVEN grab him lion king style youre gonna lose both your hands, hes bitting them off

“Oh, come on, are you fucking kidding me?” He stared at the top of the already gigantic fridge, the sauce he had been looking for laying idly there. His tail was stiff, and his ears pressed to his skull as he turned around to face you, taking a couple of slow steps. You looked anywhere but at him as he stared up at you, and in a last attempt to stay alive, you turned around, ready to bolt out of the kitchen, however, Leona was faster than you, and quickly grabbed you by the back of the neck, he dragged you by the scruff to the fridge. “Get it down. NOW.”

Azul ;;

oh hoho, another addition to his instigators— i mean, friends

he has slightly mixed feelings, on one hand, he was always insecure with his aspect, and you being taller than him while being younger makes him feel a lil bit self-conscious, but on the other hand, he is elated with the fact that youre taller, and therefore more intimidating, bonus if you’re more extroverted or comfortable with interacting with people!!

he will use you for his more… public work (and by that i mean blackmailing and harassing students so that they pay their debts)

you, jade and floyd look terrifying walking behind azul as his bodyguards

will crawl into an octopus pot and die if you make fun of him in front of his possible customers

he denies it but likes getting picked up/held by you, he’s supposedly the more mature one, the old one!!

“Oh, why are you leaving so soon?” Azul stared at the poor student that was trying to leave the room as you came from behind him, your hands holding the guy by his shoulders, not letting him move. At the other side of the room, next to the door that led to the outside, both Jade and Floyd standed, guarding the only exit. Azul grabbed a two chairs, leaving one next to the boy, and one in front, in which he sat. “Go on, don’t get flustered, take a seat. After all, we’re gonna have a pretty long conversation.”

Kalim ;;

HE LOVES YOU

theres no way he wouldn’t enjoy EVERYTHING

he would not mind if youre any height, but the fact that you’re much more taller than him??!?!? YES PLEASE

will ask you to carry him on your shoulders if you can

not ashamed to ask you to grab things off of the higher shelves

he doesn’t mind what anyone else thinks, if they believe you may be the older one, okay!

jamil doesn’t know what to feel about you, but if you busy kalim enough time for him to rest, you are his lord and savior

he may forget that you’re taller than him and give you clothes of his size, and sometimes will buy the same piece of cloth in multiple sizes because he doesn’t remember exactly how tall are you, just that you’re… very tall!

he bought you a giraffe plushy when you were both children when you became taller than him, and will gift you a real one on your birthday

“HEY!!” You turned around quick enough to have a Kalim running at you full speed, jimping into your arms the moment he was close enough. You managed to put your arms around him as he giggled like a mad man. "Carry me! Carry me to class!" You couldn't help but chuckle at your older brothers demeanor, knowing that you wouldn't be able to reject his pleads. You left him on the floor before turning around, slightly bending your knees so that he'd reach easier. "Let's go!"

Vil ;;

both hates you and loves you

hate: you are taller than him so people look at you first instincitvely

love: YOU HAVE THE MODEL HEIGHT!!!

you will model for him and you have no choice.

otherwise doesn't really care about your height as long as you present yourself correctly, you are a Schoenheit, and there is a minimum you have to meet (and its not a low bar)

if you ever EVER put your arm on top of his head you are dead to him

YOU DESTROYED HIS HAIR HOW COULD YOU

"Sit. Still." He held your chin as he applied some sunscreen on your face. "This is the new line of my brand that we're testing." You were used to being the "beta tester" of his makeup, and most if not all of the times you used them, they'd turn magnificent. "You're lucky we're siblings." He tickled the side of your cheeks with the makeup brush, very lightly applying a powder. After messing around with your face a little more, he pointed at some clothes that laid on his bed so that you'd change into them. Everything fit nicely, but it was not a surprise, your brother knew exactly what clothes made you comfortable and looked the best, and the outfits he chose for you were always great. He clapped, a soft smile on his face. "Let me see, can you twirl for me?" Doing as told, his smile only widened. "Perfect! You look fantastic."

Idia ;;

loves you

he loves all of his siblings

this man would do everything and anything for ortho and it’s the same for you

he doesn’t care at all if you’re taller, neither if they think you’re the older shroud

you’re so cool to him, you look like an actual irl SSR special event character

HE WILL MAKE YOU COSPLAY TALL AS MF CHARACTERS WITH HIM

doesn’t care if youre taller/bigger than him, you’ll always be his lil sibling and will come out of his man cave to fight anyone who dares make fun of your height

(if you’re strong enough) will ask you to pick him up to reach stuff not even him can reach (if you can’t lift him he’ll just ask you to grab it)

"Hey, could you please hand me the box up there?" He pointed up, to the top of the closet. He was currently working on a new cosplay, and he had called you for help. You did as asked, giving him the closed box. You toyed with some figurines while waiting until he gave you another order, distracting yourself with some of the posters on his walls. "Fuiheheheh, it's done!" You turned around at the same moment a mask was placed in your head, obscuring your view for a second. "Stand! Stand!" You chuckled, doing as told. "Gahh, you look so cool! A total SSR character!"

Malleus ;;

holy fuck you are a giant (malleus is 202 cm (6'6") tall counting his horns)

you bond over people being terrified at you

he doesn't really care about if other people believe you're the older, he knows he's a couple of decades older, or if they think that it is weird you being taller when hes the older

sometimes you two join forces to harass, joke with lillia, since he is much, much more shorter than any of you

he just...doesn't care at all about your height, if you're taller, you're taller, and if you were to be shorter, you'd just be shorter (that wouldn't be such a big change for him, after all almost everyone is shorter than him)

he prefers being older since that way you can enjoy life without having to worry about leading a whole ass country

"You believe this is going to work? Are you sure this isn't too... low?" You nodded, pulling at the tape glued to the door frame of the dorm kitchen. Malleus heard about a human prank, and went to you for help so that he'd be able to prank Lillia, and so you two were currently sticking tape to the door so that whenever Lillia came in, he'd get tangled. "Okay, now you say I have to call Lillia, right?" You nodded again, giving Malleus a thumbs up as he shouted for the older fae. You both watched the door intensely waiting for the moment Lillia came in. "You called?" You both jumped, spinning around to came face to face with a grinning Lillia... and the window wide open.

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