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#hope you'll enjoy it <333
rudnitskaia · 2 months
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And as I promised, right in a row, the 2nd part (the 1st) of the answer on number 19 from that list for @coffeintheface @acesandocs. 💖
Note: that ficlet highly depends on a joke headcanon that Mau and Rocky really married by accident. I wrote about it in the very old answer to an ask, but I'll also place it here for convenience.
"I can even imagine how these two might spontaneously get married because of an accidentally blurted out series of utterly stupid puns. Because it’s simply something fun to do. Like, they sneak out on the roof in the night, chatting incessantly, and then
Mau: You won’t do such a felony to me.
Rocky: A fell-on-knee? Well, I can dare.
Mau: And if I agree you’ll dare to do it right now?
Rocky: Oh, Miss Venza, it would be such a delight, but no one will marry us in the dead of night.
Mau: The dead of night, huh? I remember you told me about some business you run with a funeral home. There's supposed to be a minister. A funeral home marriage in the dead of night. Sounds like a perfect match.
And soon Rocky, arm in arm with Mau, will be banging on the door of the Arbogast Funeral Home, and if the face of sleepy Abelard Arbogast could have stretched more from their request, it would have stretched. :D"
So, here's the ficlet. :3
The Dawnright Truth
Note: Italian speech
“Hush!” Mau shushed Rocky, barely holding back a giggle herself. He habitually helped her to get over the window and then sat on the window sill, gesturing that he wouldn't utter another sound. Mau smiled. She only had a couple hours of sleep left, but for nights like this, she was willing to sacrifice even them. It was impossible to count how many conversations, how many laughs and fiddle tunes the roof of this house had heard… and Maura hoped that tonight would not be the last and that roof would hear a lot more.
As she took a step back inside her room, Rocky gently squeezed her palm and pulled Mau lightly toward him. Please don't go. She shook her head with a chuckle. No. It's almost dawn. Not letting go of her hand, Rocky pressed his fist to his chest. Waved one way, then the other in some strange pantomime, looking at Mau with the most sorrowful expression that he was capable of. Jokingly sorrowful, of course, but there was truth behind the joke. If it were up to him, he would make sure that this moment would never end; the moment when the whole city was asleep and no one but the stars in the sky could hear them. So that there would be no need to carve out time for secret meetings. And so that he wouldn't have to hide what he put into every melody he played to her at nights, behind the stares and smiles in the daytime.
Alas, now he didn't even have the violin in his hands to tell her, as usual, everything without words. He was about to hop back to the fire escape and continue to amuse her at least with his ridiculous silent performance, when Mau, laughing inaudibly, stepped forward and kissed him. So easily and openly that Rocky held his breath in surprise. But soon he loudly exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. All thoughts, all words and images froze for a moment, and then swirled in his head in a fantastical dance again, as if drawing new music from that gentle touch. Rocky moved forward, toward her, giving himself over to the sensation of flight that had taken over him…
…when suddenly there was a loud thud.
The landing from heaven to earth was disgustingly hard. Rocky rubbed his chin, which had hit the floor just a moment ago, and propped himself up on an elbow.
“Mau? Is everything alright?” came a voice from outside the room.
Maura looked worriedly at the door and pointed Rocky under the bed.
“Quick!” she whispered to him, rushing over to the chair and placing it headboard down on the floor. Much louder, she replied: “Yes, I’m fine!”
A knock sounded.
“Are you up already? Can I come in?”
Mau clasped her hands together. Anxiously, she leaned closer to the bottom of the bed and muttered:
“I beg you, not a sound,” and then answered her father: “Of course!”
Not more than a second later the door opened and Augusto peeked into the room. Mau smiled awkwardly at him and pretended to pull up a chair.
“Was reaching for a book and dropped it. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”
Augusto nodded, seemingly paying no attention neither to the strange excuse nor to the wide-opened window.
“I was already awake. But why did you get up so early?”
“Couldn't get any sleep… tossed and turned for a while, and then decided, why lie around for nothing? Better go and bake some muffins before opening…”
Rocky didn't understand a word she was saying, but the tone in which Mau was speaking… no, not speaking, chirping with her father, caused him to laugh inaudibly. He wondered if it was from anxiety or if she always acted that way with him. The dust made his nose terribly itch. But Rocky didn't risk moving and only wrinkled his nose, hoping the sensation would go away soon. After examining all the cracks in the bedframe, he turned his head to the side and suddenly saw the jewelry box next to him. And he wouldn’t pay that much attention on it if he didn’t notice the tip of some kind of note sticking out of the box. A letter? From whom, he wondered?
Meanwhile, Augusto walked into the room.
“How lucky. I was just about to leave the keys for you in the hallway, but I heard you were up. I have to go out for a while.”
“Oh, sure,” Mau accepted the keychain from his hands. “For how long?”
When Rocky carefully pulled the sheet from under the lid, he was surprised to find out that it was his note. One of many he had left for Mau at the eatery. In some he had doodled all sorts of silly things, in others he had hastily made up short humorous poems that vanished from his memory as soon as they had hit the paper. And she… kept them? No way she did. Neglecting all precautions, Rocky lifted the lid of the box… and immediately slammed it shut.
But it was too late.
Several seconds of his confusion were enough for a tinkling melody to fill the room.
Mau's heart sank. Augusto stared in puzzlement at the direction of the bed and, not listening to his daughter's objection, looked underneath it. Rocky waved at him awkwardly.
“Good morning, Mister Venza.”
“You!” the man exclaimed angrily, pulling the guy out from under the bed by his coat. “Parasite!”
“Papa, stop swearing,” said Mau with pressure. Augusto stood up, not letting Rocky out of his grasp, and shook him as if he was holding not a young man but a weightless rag.
“What is this, Mau?”
“Please leave him alone.”
“I knew that scoundrel wasn't just hanging around in our eatery for nothing. Do you realize he's a criminal, Maura?”
“No more than we are!” objected Mau.
“That's already too much, sweetheart!” groaned Augusto and shook Rocky by the scruff of the neck again. “I've seen enough of his kind, you can see 'em a mile off! A swindler, a bandit, a rascal! What if he tells anyone about us? Or even worse, what if he hurts you?”
“He won't hurt me ever!”
“Of course, he won't. And he won't show up on our doorstep again either. I respect your choice, darling, but that! I simply can't allow that to happen! For me to willingly entrust you into the hands of some thug, some… some…”
“He's already my husband, papa!” Mau moaned in despair and immediately regretted what she had said. Augusto froze with his eyes wide open, now filled with true dread, but still didn't loosen his grip.
“Maura,” he began cautiously. “Don't tell me you're expecting a child from him.”
“What?! No!” exclaimed Mau indignantly. “It just happened… accidentally!” she tried to justify herself, but seemed to make it worse.
“How can you accidentally marry a man?”
“We thought it was in jest. I never would have thought a priest at some backwater funeral home could actually wed people! We were going to get a divorce somehow…” sighed Mau, and then, after a moment of hesitation, added in a low voice: “…but I don't think that's necessary anymore.”
Augusto unclenched his fingers, releasing Rocky, and slowly lowered himself onto the bed. With a trembling hand he fumbled in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, took one out and lit it. For several long seconds there was absolute silence in the room.
“What's your name even, hubby?” Augusto finally asked, so quietly that Rocky could barely make out the words.
“Roc… Roark Rickaby, Mister Venza,” Rocky held out his hand to the man, but he didn't even look at it.
“Does he know? About us,” he questioned, clearly referring to the disastrous troubles with mob that had been the reason the Venza family had fled New York. Mau nodded.
“Yes. I told him everything.”
The room filled with heavy silence again. Augusto took a long, nervous puff and stared at the floorboards for a long moment, unblinking. Finally, he covered his face with the palm of his hand and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
“Oh, dear Lord…”
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kmuiyato · 2 years
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Oikawa Tooru ↪ for @krshima – Happy birthday, Emery! ❤
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imagine that the first one you meet is not childe, but foul legacy. you don't know that underneath that form he's human. no one dares to tell you, least of all foul legacy, who's lowkey terrified that you'll like his human form better. he can't help but grow so fond of you, you're the first person who likes him as he is, abyssal form and all.
imagine falling in love with foul legacy soon after that, imagine living with him for a good while. until one day, that mask cracks. it happens so suddenly that even he doesn't realise that he's no longer stuck as an abyssal creature.
instead, you find yourself staring at this gorgeous blue eyed, orange haired boy. he's looking at you with all the love in the world but you're just so confused. childe grips you with a pleading look, trying his best to explain everything to you, and you eventually come to realise that they're the same person but…
what about the foul legacy you fell in love with...?
(this is just a brainrot that's been with me forever, and I wanted to share it with you! I love foul legacy childe and I'm so happy to have found your blog! please feel free to use this idea however you wish, and take care of yourself! ~🌸anon)
oh this- *points at this ask* this is beautiful
Childe is quick to reassure you that Foul Legacy's still here- well, not here here, but he's still around, just inactive. Foul Legacy is part of him, his Abyssal side is watching everything as Childe talks and tries to explain, just like Childe himself was watching you interact with his monstrous form so kindly.
that's when he fell in love with you, see- when you treated something you perceived as inhuman so gently, with that wonderful smile on your face, and when you had reached up to touch his face Foul Legacy had nudged your hands so hard you nearly fell over. and Childe does the same now, bringing your hands to his cheek and snuggling into them with a soft hum, the equivalent of the rumbling purrs of his Foul Legacy form, and gazing up at you with an almost desperate look in his eyes.
they're the same color as Foul Legacy's, clear and blue and bottomless as the sea.
your hands drift away from Childe's face and he whines sadly, sounding so much like his Abyssal counterpart that you have to bite your tongue to keep from chuckling at his neediness before resettling your hands in his ginger hair and Childe stills, almost frozen in place.
with a playful flick, you ruffle his hair, palms gliding over the tufts sticking out all fluffy-like and Childe melts, leaning his head towards your hands with his eyes closed and you can almost hear Foul Legacy purring contentedly alongside you.
and suddenly you do hear him, as Foul Legacy reemerges and forces you to quickly stand to keep your hands in his hair. he rests his head on your shoulder, rumbling in bliss and relief and looking at you so lovingly it makes your heart flutter. you trail your hands back down to his cheeks, now tough and grooved from his scarlet mask, and smile.
"it's so nice to meet you, Childe. but we've met before, haven't we?"
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acrazybayernfan · 7 months
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Ok so, I'm here to humbly request some Mullendowski from your amazing writing (I miss them so much) Btw, bless your inability to keep it short <3
(Fun fact: I was nervous to ask and for some reason, I started typing in Spanish (?????? )
Hello my dear Nana <333
first of all thank you so much for your request 😘 and I'm so so so so horribly terribly sorry to be so late to answer it. I had my first session of exams for my theater school last week and the repetitions took all my time, and I was so unsatisfied of I had done for your little fanfic that I had to try to make better but i failed so... I just count on your understanding and your kindness.
As a compensation for being so late, I have decided to write you two little stories (that can be related if you want or not if you don't want). Also, somehow I'm unable to write anything that isn't sad this month (it must be the fall vibes) so...
Oh if you'd like, go for Spanish, i can't talk well but I understand, so if it's easier for you, I won't mind, at all : )
First story is inspired by the song El Perdedor by Enrique Iglesias so the tittle is... Los Perdedores
Qué más quieres de mí Si el pasado está a prueba de tu amor Y no tengo el valor De escapar para siempre del dolor Demasiado pedir Que sigamos en esta hipocresía Cuánto tiempo más podré vivir En la misma mentira
One morning Thomas had read on internet news saying that Robert Lewandowski was considering leaving Bayern and he had laugh at these ridiculous rumors. He had laugh like that every day for months until, even him, couldn’t laugh about it anymore and fear, a terrible, dreadful fear sized his heart, the fear to lose something that perhaps, in the end, he never had.
Why would Lewy want to leave? Weren’t things great the way they were? Yes, that elimination against Villareal was a shame but… but Robert was still the best striker in Europe, and Thomas made sure that it was the case, and wasn’t that enough? What else should he has done to prevent this? What a terrible question was that, a question no one should ever asked themselves. 
All those years, didn’t they carry any weight in Robert’s heart? Thomas had thought… How stupid was that? He had thought that with time the Polish player had got attached to Bayern… to him? But apparently all this didn’t stand a chance against… against what? More money? No, Robert wasn’t like that. Against the hope to finally win this stupid Ballon d’Or? Perhaps… probably… Against Lewy’s dream to still play at forty years old, something easier to do in a less intense league than the Bundesliga? Maybe that dreams weight much more than memories after all. 
No, no vayas presumiendo, no Que me has robado el corazón Y no me queda nada más Sí, prefiero ser el perdedor Que te lo ha dado todo Y no me queda nada más No me queda nada más
At Bayern, the last game of the season his supposed to be a time for joy and celebration, the pinnacle of a successful season but today in the stadium the atmosphere is gloomy. No one talks about it but everyone knows. Thomas didn’t leaved Manuel’s side because he needed the strength of the goalkeeper calming presence. Next to them Robert was walking towards the stands. His face was livid but his expression determined. He waved at the fans and his eyes teared up and he stayed there for longs minutes, crying, a hand placed both on his heart and on the Bayern crest.
“If you care about all this, then why are you leaving !!!” Thomas was screaming these words again and again in his head, pinching his lips together to prevent himself from crying and from saying this out loud and then the pain became unbearable and he had to leave. How ironic it was! Robert was the one staying with the team, staying in the stadium, staying with the fans and Thomas was the one running away. 
As soon as he was out of sight the Bavarian player started to run to hide himself in the darkest most recluse place of the stadium. There he let out a terrible, desperate, passionate scream - a scream closed to the one Achille let out when he heard the news of Patroclus death- and after this supreme effort all strength seemed to leave his body and Thomas collapsed on the floor, weeping. All the muscles in his body were tense, from his toes to his face which was deformed by the pain, making it hard for him to breathe. He was clenching his right hand on the air around his chest in a vain attempt to ease the pain of his heart. Memories, reproofs, pleas, imprecations, regrets or prayers… all these thoughts were whirling in his head. In that moment he was willing to offer everything, even his dear world cup trophy, to make Robert stay. 
Ya no puedo seguir Resistiendo esa extraña sensación Que me hiela la piel Como invierno fuera de estación Tú mirada y la mía Ignorándose en una lejanía Todo pierde sentido Y es mejor el vacío que el olvido
But Thomas was strong, and after this beak down he promised himself to have more control over his feelings. The next when Robert saluted the crowd from the balcony of the city hall, he remained stoic, as cool as the statues next to him. The rest of the time he laughed and danced and screamed and told jokes as loudly and expressively as always, even more probably, to hide the fact that his heart was so cold that no amount of May’s sun could warm it up. He even found the courage to trifle a little bit with Robert and, as a joke, he offered to his teammate to take a photo of him with the Bundesliga trophy. The Polish man accepted all smile and Thomas asked himself if all this was just acting, like it was for him, or if Lewy was really leaving with a light heart. The simple fact that this supposition could exist was so hurtful and enraging that Thomas chased this thought quickly in order to keep his composure. 
The Marienplatz ceremony ended both too soon and too late for the Bavarian’s taste, torn that he was between his desire to spend as much time as possible with Robert and the exhausting weight that the striker’s presence was for him. 
After two hours of partying to celebrate the league title during the banquet of the team, Thomas was quite drunk, using alcohol to empty his mind and to hide his pain. It had worked for some time but now that his mental barriers were weakened by the liquor thoughts and memories field his mind again. Lewy was dancing in the middle of the crowd, more handsome than ever. Things always appear the nicest to us when we’re about to lose them, no? After a long moment of contemplation, Thomas got up and with an unsteady walk he moved through the crowd, bumping in a few persons on his way, is eyes fixed on his goal. At that moment Robert looked at him, their eyes met and for an instant they stared at each other. ‘Such incredibly beautiful eyes’ thought Thomas ‘as beautiful as the sky in winter”. But, soon his teammate looked away, the German player tried to reach him but instead he tripped on his own legs and his arms grabbed nothing but air. Robert was walking away and Thomas would have fell on the floor if not for Serge catching him.
Yo prefiero dejarte partir Que ser tu prisionero Y no vayas por ahí Diciendo ser la dueña de mis sentimientos
“Leave! Leave!!! Who wants you to stay anyway?! You’re just a selfish prick! I hate you !!!” Thomas had screamed with all his strength but Robert was already too far and the music was too loud or else he knew that, if his Polish teammate had heard him, this would have been the beginning of a fight between them. Perhaps that he would have preferred that, perhaps that it would have been better that this feeling of being invisible.  
Thomas sized the first bottle of alcohol he could find, he took a large mouthful of it and then - addressing his speech to all the persons around him- he declared with a solemn tone and drunken voice: “You know what? I can play without him. I played without him for years, I won the greatest trophies of my careers without it. I can live without him, I lived the happiest years of my life without him. I don’t need him on the pitch or in my life! Plus, he is not that good, is he? Mario would have scored as much has him if the all team had played for him like we do. There is nothing special about him !!”
No, no vayas presumiendo, no Que me has robado el corazón Y no me queda nada más Sí, prefiero ser el perdedor Que te lo ha dado todo Y no me queda nada más
At that moment Thomas had believed in what he was saying but it didn’t last for long and the next morning he had to admit to himself that all this was a lie. 
During one month he lived with the fear that this disastrous night may turn out be the last time he would see Robert as his teammate. The news in the press were more and more pessimistic, the relationship between the Pole and the club more and more tense. 
"I want the one who has been my offensive partner for years to continue."
This was more than what Thomas has ever dared to say in the press when one of his teammates was leaving, even for Bastian, but it was also so far from what he really wanted to say. 
The night after this interview Thomas had written this message on his phone: ‘Would this change something if I tell you that I need you? That I love you. And that I could do everything for you.” The message was never sent.
A few weeks later, the news was official, Robert was leaving Bayern for Barcelona.
One last training session and everything was going to be over. They all behaved extremely well that day. Robert was all smile but not too much either, witty and charming like he knew how to be and everything went really well. Thomas didn’t even cry, he had passed that point, he was just looking at Lewy hugging each player of the Bayern’s squad one by one and, in his head, he was talking to his soon to be ex-teammate saying the things that he could never say out loud: “I gave you all I had to give, I gave you everything I could give to someone. I changed the way I play for you, I changed the way I use my qualities to help you more, to make you shine more. But all this wasn’t entirely altruism, I wanted you to depends on me Iike I depended on you, I wanted to become essential to you, I wanted to create a special bond with you. I gave you everything and I don’t regret it, even now, because this is what it is to love, it’s to give without expecting anything in return.”
 ¿Qué más quieres de mí? Si he pasado esa prueba de tu amor.
Lewy has fallen in love with Thomas the very first day they met and yet it took him years to realize it. Knowing very way that those feelings could never bring anything good to him he fought against them. In desperation, he tried to leave Bayern but the fear of not seeing Thomas every day turned out to be greater than his fear of suffering. Four years later, it was the opposite, his heart was burned, devoured by repressed and unrequired feelings and both his mind and his body were exhausted of this situation. Leaving Bayern was the hardest decision he had ever made and the hardest to execute but it was necessary.
And the second story tittle is: Delusion and Disappointment and it's inspired by what happened after the Bayern-Leipzig game in 2020.
I'm sorry at the time I didn't knew how to register screen and to use it to make gifs so I only have those blurry pictures to show you the situation.
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It was a hard match, probably an interesting game for a neutral spectator but for Robert it had been half and an hour of nightmare. He hated matches like this, those matches that would remind him of how useless he could be. They haven’t even lost but this 3-3 draw felt like a defeat to him. He was exhausted, he had fought against Upamecano and Konaté for the all game, without success. He just had one single opportunity and of course he has missed it, but not only was he unable to score or even to create chances for himself, but he was also unable to bring anything to the team, on the long balls he had lost all his aerial duels against the two Leipzig’s defenders and when he had gone to the midfield, in order to finally have a chance to touch the ball, he had been unable to turn around and make a forward pass because of the opponent’s pressing. His all body was hurting because of all the blows he has taken. As a football player that was something normal, they all play with pain here and there, this is something you have to get used to, and at the end of each game new pains appear in your body and you have to deal with them for the rest of the week. But that day it was a bit different, the Leipzig’s players hadn’t been soft with him and the euphoria of the victory wasn’t there to ease the pang. 
Robert with his pride, was determine not to show to the opponent that they had succeed in hurting him (both physically and mentally), so he was walking slowly but firmly and steadily towards the referees to shake their hands, just like usual. Around him the other players were talking together or exchanging a few words with the Leipzig’s players and trainers. 
From the corner of his eyes he caught sight of Thomas encouraging and congratulating Jamal. His German teammate seemed as full of energy as always. For a second, Robert asked himself how it was possible. A traitorous voice in his head answered him: “He has scored a brace, him” but Robert disagreed, Thomas was not like him, he cared about the team first and his statistics secondly, him scoring wouldn’t be enough to make him forget the disappointment of a Bayern bad game. No, his teammate was either stronger than him mentally or he was hiding his feelings, not by pride like him, but because he probably considered that it was his duty to cheer up the rest of the team. 
Sometimes he wondered about who would be there to cheer up Thomas when the young man needs it, and sometimes he would also hope to be that person, which was ridiculous because he was so bad at comforting people. When his father died, several times, he had caught his mother crying alone in her kitchen, he had wanted to go to her and to speak to her but each time he had always been stopped by the same questions: What should I say? What should I do? What if I do something wrong and I make it worse? And instead of moving he had stayed where he was and watched her for long, long minutes.  
Robert extended his arm to shake the sideline referee’s hand, not feeling like saying anything and he was about to move on to the next person when he was suddenly stopped by someone grabbing him from behind and putting his arms around him, there was a strange mix of strength -almost of roughness- and softness in this gesture, just enough to annihilate all ambiguity and he knew immediately who it was: Thomas. 
He would never, for anything in the world, show it or worst admit it but he was glad and grateful. For the briefest instant, for less than a fraction of second, he let his body melt in the embrace and then it was over, he wouldn’t be guilty of any other moment of weakness. Thomas almost let his chin rest on Robert’s shoulder to talk to him, but for some reason he didn’t went all the way. “You’re so stupid, Robert! Your vision is so limited that you’re not even considering that we have scored two of our goals thanks to you, are you? Of course not. Think a little about that pass between Upamecano’s legs, think about the way you have created space for me on the header and stop feeling sorry for yourself!”
If anyone else in the team had talked to him like that, Lewy would have probably told them to leave him alone in a rather brutal way but Thomas had some privileges.
However, Robert was determined to remain impassive – at least externally-, while his teammate was talking, so he offered his hand to the central referee, exactly as if Thomas wasn’t here. But his teammate was the not the kind of person to be deter by so little. He circled Robert, his harm sliding around the Polish man’s torso and then resting on his stomach. Now they were standing face to face. Thomas’ stubbornness was Robert’s greatest delight and greatest torture. 
Lewy immediately looked away, concentrating all his attention on the central referee. Robert then had the impression to hear his teammate sighing briefly but he convinced himself that it was in his imagination. Thomas placed his right hand on the striker’s neck, a familiar gesture between them. From time to time, during all these years they have played together, the German player would do that to him, sometimes to tease him, sometimes to encourage him, sometimes with no reason. There was nothing intimate, nothing tender in this gesture and yet there was something frighteningly pleasing in the sensation of this large, strong, slightly calloused hand on the soft skin of his neck. Frightening because it would be so easy to let himself melt in it, to let himself be hold by someone else like that and lose control. 
It only lasted for a brief moment and then Thomas let go of him and started walking past him, saying: “Take care of yourself it’s not good to stay in pain.”. Robert refrained himself from smiling. “Of course, he knew, thought the polish player, of course… Thomas always knew when something was wrong with him”. Perhaps that he was too easily readable or perhaps that his teammate was too good at that. There was just one thing that Thomas would never see or understand about him because Robert himself had decided not to see or understand it.
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 11 months
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another wip? another wip!
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prentissluvr · 13 days
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to answer the question
YES YOU SHOULD! I would love to read that!
i could speak on how pissed off i was at sam during szn 8 LOL
OMG OKAY SLAYYYYY thank you for popping in my inbox to tell me!! i will post it later tonight after editing hopefully heheh
and YEAH DONT GET ME STARTED LMAO i lowkey make him worseeee but better but worse ??? OOPS IDK i redeem him kind of ish idk it's a mess of a fic but i don't even care because yeah i just dont lmao i was following my heart ig
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I cannot watch Dragons rising s2 yet is it good
YES!!!!
It took me a lot longer than it should have done to watch it because I kept having to pause and just,,, scream LMAO - plus I talk/react outloud when I watch stuff and I immediately had to ramble out every thought I had outloud to my wall
AND THEN I had to take - at minimum - like 5/6 laps around my room after watching it because if I didn't move I genuinely felt like I was going to explode - which is how I KNOW something was good
I really really enjoyed it and it did so many things good and I just uuuaghhsha - I'm very excited for part 2 (whenever that comes out)
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daisys-reality · 1 year
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i'm gonna post the new pick a card reading today! It's about your love life hehe 🖤🍀
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miyakuli · 1 year
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5, 11 & 30? for songs game!
Yessss thank you anon for those :D <333
Music ask
5: A song that needs to be played LOUD
youtube
11:A song that you never get tired of
youtube
30: A song that reminds you of yourself
youtube
and that's why I cry each time I sing it///////////
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thosewhoruleegypt · 2 years
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In this, the year of our Lord Thoth 2022, we are back.
Y’all it has been four years! When I say coming back to this AU again feels like coming home-- honestly, I’m so happy to be working on it again. 
Unsure if I’m actually going to be active again here, but I figured I’d at least hop on to make an announcement! Here’s hoping it reaches someone :’3
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kawaizumis · 7 months
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welcome back! ❤️
hello anon, tysm! you're so sweet 🥰
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uzurakis · 23 days
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megumi and yuuji falling asleep on the reader (pre dating era or established relationship) and the others teasing the reader abt it bc everyone knows they're in love <333 have an amazing day ahead bb 🫶🏼
DOZING OFF ON YOUR SHOULDER . .
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featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. yuuta okkotsu.
n. thanku for your req nonnie ^v^ i added other characters cs i dont wanna waste ur idea, most of these are pre-dating and gojo’s part took place when he was still in hs with the rest. hope ya like it !
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ITADORI YUUJI
the soft glow of the tv illuminated the room as the four of you huddled together on the bed, engrossed in the movie playing before you. yuuji sat beside you, his eyes glued to the screen as the plot thickened. you couldn't help but steal glances at him, his features softened by the flickering light.
as the movie reached its climax, you felt a weight lean against your shoulder. you turned to see yuuji, his eyes closed in peaceful slumber, his head now resting comfortably on your shoulder. nobara noticed and couldn't resist a playful grin. "well, well, looks like someone's found a comfy pillow," she teased, nudging megumi with her elbow. megumi chuckled calmly, his gaze switching between you and the screen. "seems like itadori’s enjoying the movie a little too much."
you felt your cheeks flush at their teasing, unsure of how to react. "he must have been really tired," mumbling, trying to hide your embarrassment.
nobara only gave you a wink, "or maybe he just wanted an excuse to get closer to you." subsequently, you gave her a playful stare, hoping to deflect the attention away from you. "you're reading too much into it, kugisaki."
despite your attempts to downplay the situation, the thought of yuuji sleeping near you made you feel warm. as the movie went on, you found yourself stealing looks at him, unable to shake the fluttering feeling in your chest.
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
the four of you were alone with just the gentle hum of the engine as the car moved through the peaceful streets. megumi sat beside you in the backseat, his eyes heavy with sleep after a long day of exorcising curses. whereas infront of you, yuuji and nobara chattered away, their voices blending into the night air.
the man leaned against you, his head drooping lower and lower until it finally came to rest on your shoulder. you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. "looks like someone's had a long day, hm?” you whispered, gently shifting to make him more comfortable.
yuuji turned to look back, a sly smile growing on his face. "aww, how adorable both of you!"
nobara then laughed, delight glinting in her voice. "looks like he finally warmed up for you."
"shh, you'll wake him up!" you said to shut them up.
but it was too late. the sudden burst of light from nobara's phone camera flash flooded the car, causing megumi to jolt awake with a start. he blinked owlishly, confusion written all over his face as he realized where he was.
"sorry guys," nobara said, trying to contain her laughter. "but i gotta send this to gojo-sensei.” yuuji immediately chimed in, continuing nobara’s teasing. "they’re so over once he sees this photo."
megumi's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he straightened up, rubbing his eyes sheepishly. "i-i didn't mean to fall asleep," the words jumbled from his mouth. you reached out to gently squeeze his hand, giving him an understanding smile. "it's okay, megumi. you needed the rest."
he glanced up at you, his eyes softening with gratitude. "thank you.”
with a contented sigh, megumi settled back against you, his head once again finding its place on your peaceful shoulder.
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GOJO SATORU
gojo sat next to you on the train going home whilst geto and shoko stood across. the man beside you leaned back against the seat as the train lurched into action, his eyelids getting heavier by the second. before long, his head tipped just enough to rest against your shoulder as he fell into a quiet sleep.
geto raised an eyebrow at the sight of you both, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "if i were you, i’d shrug him off. right, shoko?”
“that’s mean, suguru,” shoko chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. "it's like they planned it all along."
"it's just a coincidence, guys," you stammered, embarrassed by their words.
geto chortled, shaking his head in amusement. "sure, sure. we believe you." then shoko slowly leaned closer, whispered a penny of thought.
"although, i have to admit, you two do look pretty cute together."
you shot her a glare, trying to ignore the redness spreading through you at the thought of gojo sleeping beside you. "damn, you guys really gotta stop with the teasing."
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OKKOTSU YUUTA
the soft rustle of leaves filled the air as yuuta and you lounged beneath the shade of a grand oak tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. you felt yuuta's head slowly come to rest on your shoulder.
but you and yuuta’s moment of peace was soon interrupted by the approach of familiar voices. maki, inumaki, and panda emerged from the nearby path, their laughter echoing through the clearing as they spotted you both.
maki surveyed the sight in front of her, knowing what to tease already, prodding inumaki and panda with her elbow, "can you really be asleep that fast?" panda added his cheery voice and inumaki nodded in accord. "maybe he’s just pretending to—."
your eyes darting between them in an anxious manner. as you objected, trying not to look embarrassed, "hey, tone it down.”
but maki wasn't convinced. with her usual grin of mischief, she stepped forward and gently shook yuuta awake. "come on, sleepyhead. you can't just doze off on someone like that." yuuta blinked groggily, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light. the man glanced up at you, a smile spreading across his face as he realized his position. "sorry about that," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
you couldn't help but laugh along with them, the warmth of the friendship washing over you as wondered, did he really fall asleep that easily though?
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@uzurakis — rqs are open <3
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astraystayyh · 5 months
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please fall before i fall
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jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))
summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
winter falls masterlist.
a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski
One. 
Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 
“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 
“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 
“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 
He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 
That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 
“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”
“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 
He thinks he likes you a little. 
“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 
“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 
“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”
“I’m coming!”
An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 
He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 
He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 
Perhaps he likes you a lot. 
“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”
“You're best friends with said insane man.” 
“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 
Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.
“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 
“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 
“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.
“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”
“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.
“Well deserved,” you whisper. 
“I heard that.”
“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 
“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 
The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 
He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 
“Yeah, I probably will.”
He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 
Two.
Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 
Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 
“Remind me why we're doing this again?”
“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”
“Your sixteen years old brother?”
“Yes.”
“You are in college.”
“I know.”
“Why are you taking it to heart?” 
“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 
“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”
A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 
“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 
“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.
“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”
“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”
“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.
“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 
“You did not tell me you ever did that!”
“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”
“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.
“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”
“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.
“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.
The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.
“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.
“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.
“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.
“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.
He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 
He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.
“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 
It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 
Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 
He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 
Three.
"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”
“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 
“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 
“Um. I have a date tonight.”
“Oh.” 
His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.
Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.
“Should I go?”
“I mean… Why are you asking me?”
“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 
A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 
Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 
“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.
Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  
“Really?” 
“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”
“He's nice.”
“Mm.” 
Could you lose something you never had in the first place?
“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 
“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”
“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 
You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 
“That one's just for you.” 
Four. 
You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.
The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 
But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 
But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 
So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 
“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 
“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 
“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 
“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 
“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 
He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 
“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.
You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.
“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.
“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.
“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.
“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”
“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.
“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.
“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.
“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 
“I'm comforting you.” 
“You don't like hugs.” 
“It's different when it comes to you.”
You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.
“Where is your date?”
“I didn't go.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 
“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”
“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 
“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”
Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.
“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”
“You love me?”
“You're my favorite season.” 
“Don't steal my lines.”
“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 
Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?
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billysgun · 6 months
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birth
billy the kid x wife!reader |requested!|billy tries to talk you through giving birth while you wail in immense pain|
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your head was tossed to the pillow, soaked with tears as you screamed, your hips squirming as the midwives tried to pull you back into position
your ears are ringing as your fingernails dig into Billy's hand, you heard faint muffles of the women telling you what you need to do but you couldn't bear it.
it felt like your insides were expanding as the thing inside you contorted to get out, kicking your organs around as you laid victim
"come on, love. it's going to be okay."
your eyes traveled to him with your hair sticking on your face, he hid his teary eyes to kiss your hand as the midwives got you into position
you saw the women's mouths moving but their voices fell silent as your head lolled, and suddenly your back was being lightly pushed up as Billy climbed behind you
your head feels limp on his chest as he scooped you up and kissed beside your ear
"I know, I know my love...but you need to do this so you'll both be okay" he murmured in your ear and your body's instincts took over as your brain checked out, not being able to handle the pain as cries rippled through the air
one of the midwives quickly handed Billy your child and told him to leave as the woman worked on you at a fast pace, his blurry eyes traveled to your unconscious body as they screamed at him to leave you
Billy stared at the shrieking newborn as he stumbled his way out of the room, he walked to the living room as the baby screamed for its mother
Billy's mind was all over the place he didn't even realize he had a baby boy
he put the infant to his chest as he too, wept softly into the night.
.
It felt like hours until one of the midwives came out, wiping your blood off her hands and he felt his stomach drop slightly
"she's okay...we'll monitor her until mornin' just in case something happens" the old woman says, flipping the bloody cloth on her shoulder as the other one exits
"w-what do I do?" he asks, looking down at the boy he has on his chest and the woman lets out a hearty laugh
"give him to the mother, she'll know what to do" the woman walked past him as he looks to the door ahead
you're a mother now, he's a father...it almost didn't seem real as he stepped into your room where you were propped up by pillows and arms wide for your child
he handed him to you and just like they said, you knew what to do as you quickly worked like you weren't crying in pain moments before
as you fed him, Billy removed the pillows behind you and replaced them with himself and he dug his nose into your shoulder as he breathed a sigh of relief that this night was almost over
"thank you for bein' okay" he said but it sounded like a strained sob, he saw your smile as your eyes moved from him to Billy
"thank you for tellin' me it was"
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an: I hope you enjoyed reading! thank you for requesting <333
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vivid-ink · 9 months
Text
'The Love Shack'
Part III - Blurring Lines
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Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)
Part III Summary:
You've spent weeks now, meeting with Neteyam & Lo'ak at the old outpost to play... You enjoy them both, but your feelings for Neteyam are becoming harder to ignore. And unbeknownst to you, Neteyam is finding it difficult to share you too... He wants you all to himself, away from his brother and away from other prying eyes...
Read Part I - The Proposition HERE
Read Part II - Three is a Perfect Crowd HERE
Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI
Word count: 12.9k
Content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal fingering
Author's Note:
Greetings my lovely thirsty peeps! Here is Part III. The narrative is getting more emotional/angsty now too with all those secretly repressed feelings. But I hope ya'll still brought your 'thirst-gear' along because you'll need it towards the end of this part. Enjoy, my lovelies! 😘
Taglist: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @clairevoyancee @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair  @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt @slutforderekhale @swaggygurlbae @c-h-i-l @justonesadlonelymoth @itchaboi-itchyboy @ntymavtr
Note: A reminder that I don't use the term 'Y/N' so the reader's name in this is 'Neyomi'. The name is not used often, only when stylistically required.
***~~~***
You were doing a commendable job of maintaining the status quo during the daytimes, Neteyam had to admit. Calm and collected, your face ever inscrutable, nothing in your behaviour betrayed any trace of the clandestine contract you’d entered into with him and Lo’ak. 
For many weeks now you’d stolen away once a week to the old outpost for your private ménage à trois with him and his brother, where you would very successfully abandon all your inhibitions and fall prey to their various ministrations. You would tangle with them both, giving and receiving pleasure until you were limp and mewling like a milk-gorged kitten. But come daybreak, when you fell in with the rest of the warriors for the morning briefing, there was no hint of the carnal nights you shared with them, not even the barest acknowledgement.
Unlike the other women, there were no demure glances or hushed giggles from you. You were purely professional.
You were so good at it that the morning after the very first night, when Neteyam had received nothing more from you than the usual dip of your head and a steady ‘good morning sir’, he’d believed for several surreal moments that he’d dreamt up the nirvana of the previous night. That is, until Lo’ak had looked from you to him and flashed him a wayward smirk that spoke of his own amusement at your cool behaviour.
Lo’ak had made it his life’s mission then to try to goad a reaction from you in public. However, you remained stoic, even pulling rank on him several times to make him behave during hunts and patrols. Then you’d threatened him on your second visit to the outpost with a firm warning that if he couldn’t keep what happened in the outpost at the outpost, that you’d end the arrangement and never return.
That had nipped Lo’ak’s jibing in the bud immediately. Your behaviour had remained a fascinating contradiction ever since. Aloof during the days, but a wanton little plaything during your nights with them…
To anyone else, you were just as you always were. Hell, Neteyam didn’t even know if you’d told your best friend, Tula… Tula certainly didn’t appear to know, based on the fact that she often told him and Lo’ak during group visits that she was still trying to convince you to come along. There had not been a single crack in your façade.
Until today.
It had been almost imperceptible, but Neteyam had caught it straight away: The clench of your jaw and the tight swallow that bobbed down your slender throat in reaction to the other woman’s words. You turned away, busying yourself with your own pa’li.
“What do you say, warrior? Tonight?” Silwey’s coquettish voice crooned beside him. Her warm palm smoothed in a slow slide up his arm to squeeze at his bicep while she pressed her side provocatively up against him.
Neteyam chuckled, undoing the ties and buckles of his pa’li’s saddle. It was a very bold move by a woman to be making such an uninhibited suggestion in such a communal setting as the pa’li pen, especially to the future olo’eyktan, but he had history with Silwey.
“It’s been a long day,” Neteyam muttered indecisively with a cock of his head, “Aren’t you tired?”
Silwey scoffed and bumped her hip against his, “Not too tired. Besides, we know stamina isn’t an issue for you.”
Though your back was turned to them as you attended to your own direhorse, Neteyam could hear your fingers working with the buckles of your own saddle. It wasn’t the usual slow and composed clink and slide of fabric against metal. It sounded like your fingers were fumbling testily with the material, the buckles rattling noisily.
A corner of his lips quirked upward. You were not so unbothered after all, it seemed…
Neteyam enjoyed the group liaisons at the old outpost, but it was true what the whispers said. He mostly liked to watch and maybe join in with his hands, lips and tongue, but it wasn’t often that he had sex with someone. He was selective like that and he didn’t like to share his playmates. He left the playboy behaviour to Lo’ak, who was more than happy to indulge the women in full use of his body.
There were only a few exceptions for Neteyam, over whom he tended to be fairly possessive. Silwey was one of them, as were you…
When Neteyam’s lack of response dragged on for several seconds longer than she liked, Silwey stroked a brazen hand over his chest and her voice turned husky to cajole him, “Come on, Neteyam. It was fun last time when it was just you and me, away from any audience.”
A muffled curse and a dull thud sounded as you dropped something.
Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam saw you quickly stoop to pick up what you’d dropped before you shot upright again, proceeding to stride away in the next moment. You appeared very eager to get away before you had to endure any more of his exchange with Silwey.
Turning his full attention to the waiting female at his side, Neteyam regarded Silwey with apologetic eyes, “Can we take a raincheck on this? I’m quite sore after today’s patrol.”
Disappointment coloured Silwey’s expression and she pouted slightly, “Alright. Well you know where to find me if you change your mind.” She shot him a seductive wink and turned to leave with a deliberate sashay of her hips.
Silwey was an incredibly beautiful woman. A warrior too, her physique was lithe with toned muscle and shapely in all the right places. Her face was similarly pleasing. However, there was an air of conceitedness about her and she liked to be in control in matters of sensual play. Neteyam had found her sexual confidence extremely appealing at first, and he’d enjoyed grappling for dominance with her during their liaisons, but his encounters with her lacked a certain sincerity of connection.
Especially after their one private evening together away from the outpost, it was becoming clear to Neteyam that what Silwey appeared to enjoy most about being with him was being in control of him. She relished dominating him. She wasn’t fond of that role being reversed though and so she never submitted fully to him at any point in return.
She certainly didn’t surrender or abandon herself as wholly as you did when you were with him… And the complete and utter vulnerability you displayed was what really made Neteyam’s blood heat with lust.
Neteyam watched your retreating figure in the distance. He noted the darker cobalt of the stripes that lined your thighs and remembered the smooth feel of them beneath his lips. He watched as the long strides of your legs made your hips sway, accentuating the luscious curves of your pert bottom as you walked. He couldn’t see your face now, but his brain supplied a lusty memory of your beautiful face contorted in bliss, lips parted and mouth slack as you moaned beneath him.
He wasn’t keen on a private evening away with Silwey, but you… You were a different story. His mind yearned and his body ached to get you alone. You, he wouldn’t mind sequestering away somewhere all to himself without having to share you with anyone.
“I know that look.” Lo’ak sauntered up to him, adjusting his bow which he’d slung across his torso. “It’s the look of someone who’s been offered a sweet treat, but not of the flavour they’re craving.”
Walking to return his pa’li’s saddle to the storage rack, Neteyam cast his brother a wry grin over his shoulder, “Yeah well, some of us have a more sophisticated palate, bro.”
“I believe the simple term you’re looking for is ‘fussy’.” Lo’ak countered, giving the whickering direhorse an affectionate stroke of farewell down its muzzle before jogging to catch up with Neteyam.
A group of young fisherwomen passed them, twittering with bashful hands over their mouths. Lo’ak addressed them with a wink and blew them a kiss. He crowed at his older brother, “And the good thing about not being fussy is that you always eat well.”
Chortling at his brother’s flirtatious conduct, Neteyam rolled his eyes, “And the bad thing about people who aren’t fussy is that they’re often also greedy.”
“Ahh, I see. You want me to be a bit less involved next time Neyomi comes round, do you? I’ll just warm her up for you, eh?” Lo’ak waggled his eyebrows and jabbed his elbow several times into his brother’s ribs, “Then I’ll just kick back and watch, because by Eywa, she’s so beautiful when she comes undone.”
Neteyam couldn’t suppress the grunt of displeasure that left him at his brother’s words. He didn’t even want Lo’ak looking at you, if he was honest… He wanted you all to himself. He wanted your kisses to grace his lips only. He wanted the forbidden taste of your sweet flesh tantalising his tongue and no one else’s, and he wanted the sight of your writhing body for his eyes and his eyes alone.
“How about you just sit out entirely?” Neteyam spat with a jeer, though there was a jesting undertone to his voice.
Lo’ak hooted with laughter and blew a low whistle out on his next exhale. He clucked his tongue and shook his head, “Nope, no can do, bro. I’m going to change the name of the outpost from ‘The Love Shack’ to ‘The Sharing Shack’. Sharing is caring and those who won’t share aren’t welcome.”
The brothers were closing in on their family’s shelter now and they were careful to lower their voices. The last thing they needed was for their father or, Eywa forbid, their mother to discover their libidinous evening activities. Although, people loved to chin-wag and it seemed unlikely that their father hadn’t at least heard rumours. Perhaps their father was just closing a blind eye to things…
“Just because I don’t like to share, doesn’t mean I won’t. I know she enjoys playing with you too.” Neteyam muttered peevishly, narrowing his eyes and fixing Lo’ak with a pointed look.
Lo’ak smirked at his brother through keen amber eyes, “You just want a little bit on the side for yourself. You’ve got it bad for her.” At Neteyam’s scowl, Lo’ak snickered and aimed another playful sock at him, “It’s alright, I got you, bro.”
***~~~***
A droning hum of voices infused the atmosphere around you while the gathered clan members filled their bellies and socialised over a shared evening meal. The radiant heat of the communal bonfire was usually a welcome sensation against your skin as it provided a soothing contrast to the chill of the evening air. However, the warmth of the fire prickled irritatingly against you tonight.
You were in a cantankerous mood and you struggled to get comfortable, either feeling too hot closer to the fire or too cold if you moved farther away from it. Your sour disposition had put a damper on your appetite too, and you picked grouchily at the mixture of grains, roasted vegetables and morsels of sturmbeest meat on your food mat in front of you.
It was your arrow that had felled the fat sturmbeest cow for tonight’s meal. Ordinarily you’d be beaming with pride, but tonight you just wanted to sulk. It was immature and petty of you - plus you knew you also had no real right - but you wanted to wallow in your crankiness.
And it was all thanks to Silwey.
You’d never had anything against the other young woman. In fact, she was a well-respected hunter and you’d partnered with her very successfully on several occasions. She was confident, skilled and friendly enough. There was literally no reason for you to hold any animosity towards Silwey and the only reason you felt this way now was because you’d overheard her proposition to Neteyam.
He’s not yours… Your conscience warned. The arrangement you have with him and Lo’ak is purely physical…
But the knowledge that Silwey had been with Neteyam privately on her own was a thorn in your side, and you felt viscid, green envy roil in the pit of your stomach. You knew Neteyam was selective of the women he took fully as lovers. The gossiping murmurs amongst the other women about this fact was evidence of this, and Neteyam had even told you so himself. So, he must have taken a keen enough liking to Silwey to have sought her out on her own in the past. 
You felt your already black mood turn even blacker.
Tula nudged your side with an elbow, forcing you from your critical thoughts, “Your face looks like a thunder cloud. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sister.” You fibbed, refusing to meet her eyes.
This was another undesired consequence of your secret arrangement with the two Sully brothers. You and Tula had been joined at the hip since childhood and you never kept secrets from each other, but now you did. Part of it was your stubborn pride at not wanting to admit to your best friend that you had caved in the end and succumbed to the brothers’ charms. Another part was you selfishly wanting to keep your exclusive arrangement with Neteyam and Lo’ak under wraps.
No one else had their own dedicated evening alone with the brothers. All the other women participated in the weekly group sessions with whoever else that went along. And for the last several weeks you’d felt privileged, special even, especially knowing that Neteyam didn’t just fuck any and every woman that came across his path. But your newfound discovery about his solo tryst with Silwey was upsetting.
“I know you’re lying.” Tula pressed, uncrossing her legs where she was seated to shuffle in front of you, “I know you like the back of my own hand and you can’t fool me.”
Chewing on your bottom lip while a furrow pulled a deep knit between your brows, you groused, “Wasn’t trying to fool you, but it doesn’t mean I want to talk about it either.”
A sigh huffed out of Tula and she took your fidgeting hands in hers, “Ok, but it’s nothing bad, right? Like, it’s not serious? You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”
The concern in your friend’s voice was touching and your ears pricked upward, your eyes following suit to look at Tula. With a discomfited laugh you shook your head, “No, it’s not anything serious. It really is nothing, actually. It’s dumb and you don’t need to worry.”
Tula tried one last time, “If it’s dumb then you can definitely tell me.”
“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Your words were firm and your tone unyielding.
Sensing that you wouldn’t budge, Tula relented, “Alright. Well if you’re not going to eat anymore of that food then we might as well make a move. Come back to mine and I’ll rub your shoulders and re-braid your hair? You look like some tender loving care might lift your mood.”
Rolling your shoulders and testing the sore muscles, you knew that one of Tula’s wonderful massages would help, but your pride obstinately insisted on licking its petty wounds and so you declined. “Thanks, but I’m tired and I’m just going to wash and call it a night.”
Shooting you a dubious expression, Tula gave a weary sigh and leant forward to buss your cheek with a kiss, “Ok, goodnight sister, sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Your murmured your own farewell and watched as your friend left the gathered throng of people. Deciding it best for you to get going too, you looked at the bits and bobs of your remaining dinner. Not wanting to feel like an ingrate for wasting good food, you gathered what was left and ate it all. Gingerly rolling the food mat up, you got up and tucked it into the washing basket with a brief smile of thanks at the people who were on cleaning duty tonight.
You passed a cluster of warrior women on your way out and they called out their ‘goodnights’ to you. You noted that Silwey wasn’t among them and your brain unhelpfully supplied the bitter thought that she was likely off frolicking with Neteyam.
Your shoulders ached and you rolled them again with a grimace as you slowly ambled your way back towards the clan’s assemblage of home shelters that were scattered among the upper boughs and branches of the large woodland trees. The air was chilly and only the soft chirruping of nightlife accompanied you as you walked onward. Your plan was to head to the bathing springs, wash the grime of the day away, and then settle down to sleep with the hope that your mind wouldn’t keep you awake with agonising musings of what Neteyam and Silwey were doing.
Your ears twitched then, swivelling backward at the dull sound of thudding footsteps approaching you from behind.
“Sore, are you?” Lo’ak queried, stopping to stand at your side. He grinned when you turned to acknowledge him, the whites of his teeth glinting in the dim moonlight.
“That talioang cow was a heavy haul to bring in, so yes, my shoulder and back muscles are making their complaints known.” You didn’t need to look around him or over his shoulder to see that his older brother was not with him.
“It was a good kill. The clan thanks you for your service.” Lo’ak cocked his head to the side, regarding you with his signature smirk, “Can I help make you feel better? I’m happy to give you a nice rub down. You know, ease all that tension from your body.”
You barked out a laugh and threw him a cynical look, “Why do I get the sense that your rub down will end up more like a hump down?”
Lo’ak’s grin turned naughty and he snickered, “Hey, if that’s what you want, sweet thing, I won’t say no.”
You contemplated his offer, really thought about it. He was still wearing his cummerbund around his torso and you took a moment to enjoy the way it hugged his abdomen like a second skin, framing his ribs and accentuating the narrowing of his hips nicely. Your eyes dipped to the dark green loincloth that hung from his hips and a part of you was tempted. You knew, intimately, what hid behind that loincloth and you knew that the experience would be pleasurable if you spent the evening with Lo’ak. But when you closed your eyes and pictured yourself kissing him, it was Neteyam’s face that swam behind your eyelids.
With a quiet exhale you shook your head, “Thanks, but no thanks. I turned down Tula’s offer of a shoulder rub just now too.”
Lo’ak’s tail was swishing in a slow arc behind him and he was watching you intently. A toothy smile played across his lips and you sensed a cheeky jab on the horizon, “It’s OK, I get it. Wrong brother asking.”
Irritation flashed through you at his comment. You were really starting to hate the way he kept calling you out like that. It was difficult enough having to confront your own feelings, but it was much worse when someone else pointed them out.
You snapped at Lo’ak, “You need to stop that. If you will recall, I quite happily enjoy both of you during our get-togethers, so it wouldn’t make a difference who asks. I just want to bathe and head home tonight.”
Great Mother, you were turning into a such a liar… you would have accepted without hesitation if the offer had come from Neteyam…
“Alright, alright, I’m just teasing. I’ve genuinely got a suggestion that might help though.”
You raised a doubtful brow at him, your silence urging him to continue.
“There’s a small hot spring near my family’s home shelter. It’s in a secluded area behind it, away from the main village pathway.” Lo’ak broached genially, “The water’s warm and it’s great for soothing sore muscles. You’re welcome to bathe there if you want?”
“You have a private hot spring?” You queried in astonishment. There were a few hot springs in the nearby woodlands, but they were communal and there were often other people there. Having a private one so close to home was a real indulgence.
“Perks of being in the olo’eyktan’s family.” Lo’ak gave a casual shrug of his shoulders, “My parents picked that spot to build our family’s shelter at because of it.”
A hot soak and bath sounded absolutely divine, and a private spring meant you’d have some peace and quiet to yourself too. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be using it if it’s just meant for your family.”
“Nah, it’s fine. We’ve had friends over before and my parents are out tonight anyway. Come on, I’ll take you there.”
Enticed by the promise of the hot spring, you readily followed Lo’ak. You were familiar with where the Sullys’ home was, but as he led you round behind it, you glimpsed a mossy pathway that led down between the verdant flora towards a formation of rocks. Sure enough, you could see there was a pool in the formation’s centre, partially obscured by the taller rocks surrounding it.
The environment became humid as you approached the mouth of the spring, the hot water sending small plumes of steam into the air. You breathed out a sigh of wonderment at the sight before you. It was actually bigger than you’d initially thought.
The hot spring was surrounded on most sides by the high rocks, giving the space a lovely sense of seclusion. There was another set of tall boulders that parted the spring down the middle too and, though you couldn’t see it from where you were, you presumed it would lead to another part of the spring round the corner. On the adjacent side from where you stood, there was a bank with a bed of plush, bioluminescent moss. It looked like the perfect place to just sit and dip your feet in if that’s all one wanted to do.
You beamed at Lo’ak appreciatively, “This is lovely, thank you.”
“There are some bath and cleansing oils in a little basket over there on the bank. My sisters are morning bathers so they won’t be needing the spring now. You can enjoy your privacy.” Lo’ak stated with a smile, followed by a muted titter which he tried to disguise rather poorly as a cough.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
He waved you off, turning around and beginning to make his way back up the path, “No, it’s nothing.”
Arms akimbo as you watched him leave, you hissed, “You’re being weird. There better not be any nasty surprises in there!”
Lo’ak scoffed, stopping in his tracks to look at you, “No, of course not.” Although there was still that telltale mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you didn’t altogether trust. He shook his head at your apparent doubt and he gestured towards the steaming spring, “You’re safe here, don’t worry. There are no strangers here.”
With a reassuring smile, Lo’ak left you to it and carried on up the distance of the path until you saw him disappear into his family’s shelter.
Left alone now, you peered out into the darkness of the hot spring before you. The higher temperature of the water meant that not much lived in and around the spring. There were no fish or florae that dwelled beneath the water’s surface and apart from the gentle glow of the moss and phosphorescent lianas that lined the rocks, there wasn’t much light at all.
Stepping forward slowly, you let the warm water of the spring greet your toes, which wriggled and curled in delight at the soothing heat. You smiled a small smile to yourself, very much looking forward to your impending hot bath. You unclothed yourself, shimmying out of your chest-covering and loincloth before folding the garments neatly and stepping to the side to drape them over a boulder. You paused then when you noticed another folded loincloth tucked against the rocks.
Odd… Lo’ak had reassured you that no one was here…
Shrugging lightly, you supposed another of the family had left it behind earlier in the day and thought nothing more of it, eager to immerse yourself in the steaming spring that beckoned. With small steps, you submerged yourself little by little, sighing as the blissful warmth of the spring water enveloped your knees, thighs, hips and navel until you reached maximum depth and it pooled just under the rounds of your breasts.
Oh, by Eywa, the temperature was perfect. The water was hot but not too hot as to be uncomfortable and you could already feel it easing the tightness in your leg muscles. Wading through the dark water towards the basket of bath oils on the bank, you gingerly picked through several vessels, uncapping them and giving each one a sniff as you tried to decide which you liked best. They all smelled wonderful, some fruity, some floral and all a luxurious treat for the skin and senses.
A very familiar scent wafted to your nose when you uncapped the last vessel; spicy and nutty, with a hint of the woodland trees. You recognised it immediately. Neteyam. This was the bath oil he used regularly. Your mind was made up in that instant, selection made.
Bending your knees, you submerged yourself to your chin to wet your body all over, before gracefully lifting yourself out of the water to perch on the mossy bank so you could rub the oil into your skin. The oil was wonderfully fragrant and glossy on your wet skin as you massaged it over your arms, torso, breasts, tail and legs. A contented moan bubbled up your throat and you giggled to yourself, smoothing the oil up your neck and then over your face too.
Oh, it smelled so good and it reminded you so much of Neteyam…
Something sharp pricked in your chest when your conscience reminded you that he was off in the company of Silwey tonight, and you sniffed sullenly before you mentally chastised yourself. You resolved to put it out of your mind and just be grateful for this wonderful hot spring. The scent of the oil tickled your nostrils again, bringing with it more unbidden thoughts of Neteyam. Perhaps choosing the oil he used wasn’t the smartest idea after all... You’d go to bed smelling like him tonight and it was just going to keep reminding you of him.
Satisfied with your efforts of smoothing the bath oil all over yourself, you slipped off the mossy bank back into the warm water to soak. Your tightly braided cornrows wouldn’t need a proper wash for another few days yet, so you cupped water in your hands and dribbled it over your head to give your hair a simple rinse. Gingerly, you washed your face in a similar fashion, moaning quietly in enjoyment.
So absorbed were you in relishing your bath that you failed to notice the glowing pair of eyes watching you soundlessly through the steam from around the corner of tall boulders in the spring.
Your voyeur smirked to himself. He was surprised to find you here. He was going to have to thank his brother later…
Deciding he’d done enough covert watching, Neteyam carefully shifted off his rocky perch beneath the water to submerge himself further. His moral scruples censured him that continuing to watch you bathe naked when you were unaware of his presence was wrong. He resolved to make himself known, but he was going to have some fun doing it.
The buoyancy in the water made it easy for you to rest with your knees bent to keep yourself submerged to your chin. You continued to run your hands over yourself underwater, cleaning yourself while you soaked. You hummed an old folk tune that your mother used to sing to you as a child, and you closed your eyes, basking in the peace of your surroundings. But your serenity was unexpectedly disrupted when you felt something ripple past your legs underwater.
You stilled and bolted upright to full height. There was something in the water…
Your thoughts rushed back to earlier when you’d been suspicious of Lo’ak’s snickering. He’d reassured you that there was no danger here and you knew, logically, that nothing lived in the waters of a hot spring, and yet, something had definitely moved past the backs of your legs underwater.
Heart beginning to race in your chest, you turned in a slow arc, scanning the murky water with wide eyes. The water was so black you could hardly see your own body past your hips. The steam was suddenly stifling and you licked your lips, swallowing down your rising anxiety.
With an almighty splash, something burst upward through the surface of the water behind you with a roar and an alarmed screech forced itself from your throat. You whirled around to face a looming figure, your chest heaving in fright. However, the loud roar the figure had emitted had morphed now into deep rumbles of laughter and you came face-to-face with a dripping wet Neteyam.
“You skxawng!” You shrieked in indignation, aiming several good splashes of water at him with your hands.
Neteyam’s mirth still had a firm grip over him and his rumbling laughter continued to reverberate around the rocky spring. Your fit of pique was quickly deflating in the face of his amusement as you watched him clutch at his sides, gasping for breath, his handsome face full of his merriment. The sound of his laughter was infectious and though you continued to cuss at him, your own voice was tremulous with your own laughter now.
“Great Mother, all these years we’ve hunted and patrolled together, facing packs of nantang (viperwolves) and palulukan (thanators) and not once have you ever screamed like that!” Neteyam hooted.
“Shut up, kurkung (asshole)! You gave me a huge scare!” You splashed him again and added a hard shove against his chest for good measure.
Neteyam caught your wrists and proceeded to mock scold you, “Hey, name-calling and physically assaulting your superior officer is the height of disrespect and insubordination.”
Wrenching your wrists free of his grasp, you ground out through your teeth, “Forgive me, sir, but you rudely interrupted my bath and nearly sent my soul to Eywa with your ambush.”
Flushed from your fright and suddenly feeling self-conscious, you folded your arms across your breasts. It was stupid really considering Neteyam had already seen all of you and more before.
Your eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness now and you could see little rivulets of water cascading down his face from his wet hair. Droplets of water clung to the skin of his neck and chest, and his bioluminescent tanhì glimmered against his moist skin. The deep gold of his eyes were bright in lack of light and you forced yourself to look away, afraid you might drown in the mesmerising depths of them if you looked for too long.
Neteyam gave a quiet chuckle and he tilted his head downward to catch your downcast eyes, “Did I interrupt your bath or did you interrupt mine?”
You sucked in an astonished breath, remembering the other folded loincloth you’d seen on the rocks by the mouth of the hot spring. Confusion swirled in your mind and you shook your head, “Lo’ak told me there was no one here.”
Another rough chuckle, “No, he said there were no strangers here.”
Neteyam watched as you attempted to make sense of the situation. He’d already been in the hot spring when Lo’ak had led you here. He’d been partially hidden from your sight around the corner of the boulders in the middle of the pool, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice him through the steam.
“Maybe Lo’ak didn’t realise you were here.”
“Oh paskalin (sweet berry), he definitely knew I was here.”
Neteyam’s voice was low and husky, and the raspy sound rippled over you, sending warm tingles throughout you to your fingers, toes and other more private places. You looked to his face again and found him still watching you. A small grin played on his lips, his eyes gleamed with mischief and his ears were upright, fully focused on you.
The recollection of Silwey’s proposition to him earlier in the day resurfaced in your thoughts and you felt your mood sour again. He was probably freshening up before his play date…
You decided to leave him to it, trying your best to keep the sour taste in your mouth from bleeding into your tone, “Well, I’m sorry sir, for intruding on your bath. I’ll go now so you can finish up. I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be, you know, someone waiting for you.”
Neteyam watched as you turned to leave, wading slowly through the spring towards its exit. He shook his head at your repeated address of him as ‘sir’ and he chortled under his breath. Your words were coolly said, but he didn’t miss the slight edge to them, especially when you referred to someone waiting for him. You were annoyed and he was fairly certain of the reason why. He knew you’d overheard part of his conversation with Silwey earlier today. Well, two could play this game of rank…
“Wait, tsamsiyu (warrior).”
You stopped in your tracks at the formal address. Neteyam’s tone was suddenly firm, the same one he used during your work days and instinct made you turn to face him again, “Sir?”
He began to advance towards you, his movement creating ripples in the spring’s surface at his approach. He stopped once there was a scant foot of space between you and his greater height forced your head to tilt back to maintain your eye contact with him.
“Just where do you think I’m meant to be right now at this hour? And who are you implying is waiting for me?” His question was a murmur, but his tone was still formal and there was a note of challenge in it.
Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you replied, “I just meant that you’re a busy man and I shouldn’t hold you up.”
“Bullshit. Speak plainly.”
You were bewildered by Neteyam’s brusque response. Your eyes fell away from his and you shrank a little under the weight of his authority. He was pulling rank on you and questioning you. Perhaps your earlier remark hadn’t been as measured as you thought and your attitude had bled through. Unnerved, you wondered if you’d offended him.
Fortifying yourself through your increasing discomfort, you inhaled deeply and spoke, “What you choose to do in your time, and who you spend it with, is none of my concern. I apologise if I overstepped and misspoke. Permission to be dismissed, sir?”
“No.”
Shock lanced through you and you gasped. You’d expected your polite request for dismissal to be granted, but Neteyam had denied it outright. Unsure how to respond, your eyes mechanically found his face again and another wave of surprise rippled through you when you found him smirking at you.
Soft lines wrinkled your forehead as you frowned at him in puzzlement. When his smirk turned into a full-blown grin, you clicked and you realised he was toying with you. Your ears flattened in irritation and your lips pressed into a thin line. You adjusted your arms, crossing them even tighter across your naked chest, “You’re making fun of me.”
Neteyam’s expression softened and turned placating. He cocked his head at you, “You started this rank game. I was just playing along.”
You weren’t in the mood to banter with him right now. You just wanted to get out of there because every moment more that you spent in Neteyam’s presence was a reminder that he would soon be trotting off into Silwey’s arms for the night. Something he was entirely in his right to do… your conscience reminded again. It did nothing to soothe your bother.
“Right, well I’m going now.” You huffed, turning to continue making your departure.
“You don’t have to go. Stay.”
“No, I interrupted your bath. So, I’ll go.” You snapped.
“I was almost done. You only just got here. Really, you should stay. I’d best be off anyway-”
“Actually yes, why don’t you go?” You interrupted him, whirling around to face him. Your abrupt movement sent a torrent of warm water splashing onto the hot spring’s entryway behind you. He’d best be off indeed! It wouldn’t be polite to keep his playmate waiting… He would leave and you could stay to soak in the spring, and wallow some more in your stupid self-pity...
Your irritation flared and your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Better not keep Silwey waiting.”
A smug grin and chuckle was Neteyam’s answer to your remark and his response only aggravated you further.
There was an accompanying pinprick of hurt in your chest this time. Great Mother, was he still toying with you?... Was he rubbing it in that he was seeing someone exclusively tonight?... But why would he do that? You’d never known Neteyam to be unkind… And he didn’t even know how you felt… Or did he?
“You’re adorable when you’re upset.” Neteyam said, approaching you and closing the distance between the both of you once more.
“I’m not upset.” You feigned and you turned defiant eyes up at him when he stopped in front of you.
The water was shallower here near mouth of the hot spring. Where it had pooled beneath your breasts earlier, it now encircled your torso level with the tops of your hips. As Neteyam was taller, the waterline sat dangerously low on his pelvis and you kept your gaze firmly rooted on his face to curb the temptation to look down.
“Lying to your commanding officer is also a form of insubordination.”
By Eywa, you were tiring of this game... Why wouldn’t he just leave to go and meet Silwey already?
A scathing snort left you and you turned to continue your departure, “You’re not the boss of me outside of our work hours.”
Neteyam stopped you with a hand around your upper arm, “No, but I do like it when you call me ‘sir’. It has a certain ring to it that I’ve discovered I enjoy even outside our work hours.” His grip wasn’t loose but it wasn’t bruising either, just firm enough to impede your attempt to leave.
Still unwilling to uncross your arms from around your chest, you snarled at him in warning, “Let me go. I’m sure Silwey would be more than happy to indulge you in your little game. You are her commanding officer too, after all.”
“I’m not meeting Silwey tonight.”
A beat of silence passed as you took in Neteyam’s words, “What?”
Strong arms enveloped you in the next moment and you found yourself being dragged backwards into the deeper water of the hot spring. Wrapped in his embrace with your back crushed to his chest, Neteyam murmured by your ear, “I turned down her offer.”
You squirmed a little in the cage of his hold. One of his arms was wrapped around your shoulders while the other was snaked around your waist; you were well and truly trapped against him. You knew you were no match for his strength and the feminine part of you appreciated that fact. It revelled in how dainty you felt against his bigger frame.
You were unable to stem your curiosity and you questioned his decision, snapping at him, “Why? You obviously like her enough to have met her privately in the past.”
Neteyam took a breath and then exhaled, “The sex is good, but there’s no connection there. It’s physical and nothing else. Besides, it’s not Silwey’s company I find myself craving these days.” He gave a gravelly chuckle and you felt it rumble against your back. His voice turned teasing, “I knew you were eavesdropping, paskalin.”
It was an awkward angle but you craned your neck sideways to scowl at him, “Well, she wasn’t exactly quiet about it. She might as well have made an announcement before the entire clan.”
“And her offer upset you.”
Another fibbing refute was on the tip of your tongue when you stopped yourself. He’d already called you out before for being untruthful. He knew you were upset. No point trying to lie your way out of it.
Ever since you’d entered into this arrangement with Neteyam and Lo’ak, your feelings for Neteyam had become more and more difficult to ignore. Your play dates with the brothers were just physical entertainment and nothing more. Or at least, they were supposed to be… But the lines were now blurring horribly between physical and emotional, and your tetchy behaviour this evening was cold, hard evidence of this.
“I don’t like knowing that other women have you too.” Your admission was sulky and muttered so quietly that you weren’t sure if Neteyam even heard you, “When it’s just the three of us at the shack, I can just ignore everything else and pretend otherwise.”
“My, my, possessive are we?” His cocky remark rubbed you the wrong way.
You’d opened up in a moment of vulnerability and his tongue-in-cheek attitude made you feel like he was making fun of you again. With a renewed surge of annoyance, you twisted fiercely in his hold and he released you.
You spun to face him, arms still wrapped around yourself, “Didn’t you say you’d best be off? Fine, you’re not seeing Silwey tonight, but you’ve clearly got somewhere to be, so why don’t you just go so I can have some peace here?”
Neteyam wanted to make a smart quip about you kicking him out of his own family’s hot spring, but decided against it when he saw the glinting hurt in your eyes that you were trying and failing to conceal from him. He held his hands out of the water to show them to you, “What I meant was that I might as well be the one to leave seeing as my skin is getting wrinkly. I don’t actually have anywhere to be.”
“Oh.” Your voice was small.
“Do you want some time to yourself?” Was that a hint of regret you heard in his voice?
Neteyam didn’t want to leave you, if he was truthful. He’d spent the last few weeks waiting for an opportunity to get you alone, dithering in his decision around whether to just ask you outright. He’d been hesitant because he didn’t want to ruin the good thing they had going. He didn’t know whether you were content to just play with him and Lo’ak, and he was afraid that seeking you out on your own might be too close for comfort for you.
The realisation this afternoon that you were annoyed by Silwey’s advances on him was a real stroke to his ego, and he’d teased you about it. However, he comprehended now that his attempt at banter had backfired on him as you appeared more upset than he’d initially thought. Lo’ak had handed him an opportunity tonight, but he may have just blown it…
You fidgeted, your fingers squeezing your upper arms where they were wrapped around you while you deliberated your answer. Eywa, you didn’t want time to yourself if the alternative was a chance at time alone with Neteyam…
You had a chance here to indulge the tender feelings you had for him. You knew it was a dangerous game to play. He was the future olo’eyktan and he would one day mate a woman fit to be tsahìk. That would not be you. You were a warrior, like he was. Neteyam would never be yours and it was stupid to risk your heart for a chance at knowing him like this.
But you were always foolish when it came to him…
“No, you can stay.” You mumbled meekly, “If you want to, that is.”
A tight twinge scorched across your left shoulder muscle then and you gasped, straightening your arm to stretch out the cramp that had seized hold of you. You hissed in pain, grimacing in discomfort.
The water sloshed and lapped as Neteyam rushed to you. He took hold of your cramping arm, crossing it over your front, “Here, stretch across like that and hold it. The cramp should ease soon.”
“Ow, ow!” You whined, stretching your arm across as hard as you could to relieve the cramping muscle. You felt Neteyam’s firm fingers begin to press and push at the knot and relief thankfully found you as the muscle relaxed again. You groaned with a sigh, “Ugh that one hurt like a bitch.”
“You’re very tense across your shoulders. Are you really sore?”
“Yes, that’s why Lo’ak suggested I bathe here in the hot spring.”
Neteyam grinned to himself behind your back, continuing to rub and work at your shoulder muscles. He really owed Lo’ak one now… His brother was an excellent wingman… The fact that you were sore had probably been a nice coincidence in Lo’ak’s plan. His brother would have led you to the spring anyway knowing he was already in there.
“I’m sorry if I upset you with my teasing. I wasn’t doing it to be mean.” Neteyam muttered at your back. “If it’s any consolation I’m possessive of you too. I don’t like sharing you, not even with my brother.”
His words made your heart skip a beat and you curled your tail around his lower leg underwater, “I know.”
You knew he wasn’t fond of sharing. You’d seen it in the way he interacted with you and his brother during your play nights at the shack, but hearing him admit it was satisfying.
Encouraged, Neteyam stepped forward to press himself against your back, his hands still massaging at your shoulders. Your skin was silky smooth and slick under his fingers and your bottom was plush against the front of his hips. His cock twitched in interest and he felt desirous heat pool in his groin. Tucking his chin to nuzzle lightly at the crook of your neck, he drew in the sweetness of your scent which had mixed with the spiciness of the bath oil. You smelled like a delicious treat he’d been hankering after…
Growing more and more relaxed from the wonderful shoulder massage Neteyam was giving you, you let your arms drop and float to your sides in the water, uncaring that it exposed your breasts to him. The little sniffs and puffs of his breath as he scented you were ticklish against the skin of your neck and you grinned silently, fighting the urge to shiver. Reaching back a little, you let your hands ghost over the outsides of his thighs, your fingertips dancing against the firm muscle beneath smooth skin. A deep and rumbling purr was Neteyam’s response of delight.
You’d played with Neteyam before, but it was different like this alone in the hot spring and without Lo’ak as a second playmate. Your current ambience was far more intimate. It felt less like physical play and more like a deep, emotive bonding session with a significant other. Your conscience sounded the alarm bells and your heart bolstered its defences.
You could play with him, but under no circumstances could you fall for him…
Clearing your throat lightly, you turned your head a bit so you could look him in the eye to thank him, “Mm, thanks for that. It’s helped. Do you want me to give you a rub too?”
Neteyam wrinkled his nose at you and the action was both endearing and charming. The press and rub of his fingers against your shoulders didn’t stop though. He bit his lower lip and grinned cheekily at you, “Not a shoulder rub, no.”
The innuendo was clear and you rolled your eyes at him with a small snort. He laughed and the sound was soothing and warm. Damn him and his stupidly handsome face… Which you then realised was beginning to lean down ever so slowly towards yours.
The long lashes that framed Neteyam’s eyes fluttered enchantingly as his gaze shifted between your eyes and your lips, “Can I kiss you, paskalin?”
You could never deny him… not when he always sought your permission so sweetly…
Your body was one step ahead of your brain and you craned your neck back to press your lips to his. The fire of your desire ignited, his kiss like fuel to the flames that consumed you and scorched you from head to toe. A throbbing ache struck up a rhythm at the apex of your thighs, your body instantly yearning to be touched and stroked, surrounded by and filled to the brim with him.
Neteyam groaned against your lips, his head twisting and his mouth opening to allow your tongues to waltz. Your hands snaked farther backward to clutch at his buttocks, pulling his hips and the evidence of his arousal flush against your lower back and bottom. He took a breath and hissed at the contact.
The heat of the water against the lower half of your body was a delightful contrast to the cool air against your upper half. You arched your back against Neteyam, pushing your breasts outward, nipples stiffening to peaks as the wafting steam caressed its way past them on its ascent to the sky.
Neteyam’s lips left yours and proceeded to score a heated path down the side of your neck with lapping kisses. Eyes heavy-lidded through your soaring lust, his name was a breathless sigh on your lips, “Neteyam.”
He gave a low growl at the sound of his name, and his massaging hands moved from kneading your shoulders to trail downward over your collarbone, drifting lower until his calloused palms met your hardened nipples. His voice was rough, “I can’t get enough of you. Every evening at the shack just makes me want you more. Do you know how hard it is to have you as my second-in-command when all I want to do during the day is pin you down and have my way with you?”
Your core pulsed and thrilled at his coarse words. You could feel the tingling of your folds, knew that your body was readying itself with warm, slippery wetness to be penetrated to the hilt.
A smart retort surfaced in your mind and you shot him a brazen grin, “I’m sorry, sir.”
The smile that slowly spread across Neteyam’s face at your comment was positively wicked. It was practically a leer. “Obedience and good manners will get you a long way with me, warrior.”
Slick from the bath oil, you leant back against him while he fondled your breasts, his lips nibbling at the soft point of one ear. You’d never realised how sensitive your ears were, but they were definitely an erogenous zone for you. Every nip and kiss to the skin there made your legs weak and your pussy throb. You could feel the solid length and weight of his erection pressing insistently into your lower back like an unspoken invitation to you of the bodily ecstasy it could bring you.
Neteyam verbalised his invitation, nonetheless, in a rumbling purr, “Play with me tonight. Here. Just you and me.”
Your thighs gave an involuntary squeeze together, the ache in your pussy suddenly growing so intense it felt hotter than the water of the spring you currently stood in. You felt Neteyam clasp your jaw with one hand, tilting your head back and twisting your face so he could plunder your mouth again with his lips and tongue. The velvet sweep and suction of his kiss ensured that what little hesitation you had was promptly abandoned.
However, you couldn’t suppress another sassy retort from leaving your lips, “I don’t know. You don’t have any of those sex toys here tonight to rock my world.”
Neteyam bent his knees slightly, bringing his hips in line with your bottom, and he reached down to reposition his cock so it could slide between your thighs and against your slick folds. His chuckle was dark and his voice was full of sensuous promise in the most sinful of ways, “Oh paskalin, you and I both know that I don’t need any of those toys to have you screaming my name tonight.”
You twisted around to face him, throwing your arms around his neck to claim his lips in a desirous kiss. His hands found your upper thighs and he lifted you easily to wrap your legs around his hips, his hands coming to rest against your bottom. He broke the meld of your lips then and he was breathless as he asked, “Is that a yes? I want to hear you say it.”
This new position in his arms found your face elevated over his. Framing his face with your hands, you peered down into the captivating depths of his eyes and panted back at him, “Yes.”
“Yes, who?” Neteyam’s eyes glinted naughtily and you understood the implication. He wanted to continue playing his game of rank with you…
“Yes, sir.”
The warm water rushed around you then in a surge as Neteyam hoisted you higher in his arms and walked you backwards until your back met the tall rocks behind you, pinning you against it. The rock was warm against your back and while its surface was not jagged, it was still coarse enough to be abrade your skin if you moved too roughly against it.
Neteyam nuzzled at the soft mound of one breast, and you emitted a startled gasp when he sealed his mouth over it, drawing your nipple into his hot mouth with a tormenting suck that made you keen in pleasure. He followed this with flicks of his tongue against the stiff bud of it, and your head lolled backward to land with a mildly painful thud against the rock.
Playing with your body was both pain and pleasure for Neteyam. He relished giving you pleasure and revelled in the way your body writhed and reacted. Your whimpers and moans were music to his ears, but all of this never failed to send his arousal soaring to a fevered pitch, which was where the pain came in. His cock was achingly hard, flexing and throbbing with the desperate need to be buried snugly inside you. His balls felt heavy and swollen, full of seed that his body yearned to gift to you.
With your legs clamped tight around his hips still, and leaving one hand and forearm under your bottom to help keep you propped up, he shifted his other hand towards your core. His knuckles brushed your slick centre and Neteyam groaned against the pillowy flesh of your breasts. You were so slippery soft and ready for him already… but he wanted to tease you more…
Running his knuckles over your pussy, he extended his fingers and gently breached you with two of them, earning him another cry from you. He knew what you liked and he curled his fingers just so, finding the spongey spot on your inner walls that he knew would drive you wild, as he pumped them in and out.
It was an incredible combination of sensation whenever he suckled on your breasts and played with your core. You were already beginning to see stars behind the tight clench of your closed eyelids.
Losing yourself in the building waves of pleasure, you moaned his name harshly with a curse, “Oh fuck, Neteyam.”
His mouth left your breast with succulent pop, “Is that the way to address your commanding officer?” He curled his fingers aggressively inside you, winding the coil of pressure in your pelvis even tighter.
Your apology was a whimper, “No, sorry sir.”
“I’m going to take care of you tonight, but only if you follow my lead. Is that clear?” Neteyam instructed, his speech adopting the formal tone he used with the platoon during the daytimes. He gave a deliberate twist of his fingers and your breath hitched.
“Mm, y-yes sir.”
“What’s your safe word if you need to use it, sweet girl?”
“Tsyoklìt.”
Neteyam couldn’t help his chuckle. It was the same safe word you always used after you had first chosen it when him and Lo’ak had started experimenting with some wilder forms of sexual play with you. However, it wasn’t so much your repetitive choice that amused him but the word itself and the backstory behind it.
Tsyoklìt was a Na’vi word phonetically loaned from its English counterpart: Chocolate.
Your reaction to trying the sweet human treat for the first time would forever remain one of Neteyam’s fondest memories.
The two of you had been younger, still adolescents training to pass your rites of passage to become warriors. It had been a very successful day at training and his father had decided to reward the learners with some chocolate. Jake had handed out the unfamiliar treat, which was then observed and examined with cautious sniffs and curious eyes. He and Lo’ak were already familiar with the foodstuff and had eagerly tucked into their share, prompting the others to do the same.
Most of the trainees had reacted with positive surprise, but not you. Your face had twisted into a grimace at the saccharine taste, lips turning into an unpleasant pout as you fought to swallow the sickeningly sweet bite you had taken. Neteyam had tried very hard not to laugh at your aversion and when he’d asked you what was wrong, you’d told him, “It’s way too sweet. It’s too much, far too much.”
So, in a way, your choice of safe word was rather fitting if things got too much.
Neteyam growled against your chest, feeling the contractions of your inner walls around his fingers, “Fuck, you’re irresistible, you know that? So beautiful and your body is perfect, so responsive.”
The stroking thrusts of Neteyam’s fingers in and out of you was pleasurable, but it wasn’t enough. You wriggled lightly, wishing you could somehow rock your hips to bring some friction against your clit, but the firm hold he had under your bottom and the way he had you trapped against the rock made for a rather unforgiving position.
“I need more.” You murmured your words languorously, and water droplets splattered softly against the spring’s surface when you lifted your hands to weave your fingers through Neteyam’s braids. You writhed again, attempting to find more friction, and Neteyam gave a warning snarl when your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling against his scalp.
“Demanding, are we?” He crooned, nipping at the skin of your neck, “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.”
Neteyam’s grip around your bottom eased and he stepped back so he was no longer pressing you against the rocks. You unwound your legs, sliding down his frame to stand again, very aware of the way his erection bounced free of your thighs as you untangled yourself from him. Your hands flew instantly to his swollen length, teasing it with a stroke-and-twist action you’d discovered Neteyam liked. He gave a guttural grunt and one of his hands flew to brace itself against the rocks.
Your smile was cunning and you chuckled low and husky at him, “It seems I’m not the only one who’s impatient, sir.”
Neteyam snickered, “It’s always an exercise in patience with you.” He let your hands relieve some of the pressure for the time being, content to bury his face into the crook of your neck while he moaned and littered your skin with gentle bites.
Great Mother, you loved when he was like this… Muscles flexing and relaxing, hot breaths against you while he shuddered and groaned from the pleasure you were inflicting on him. His cock was gorgeous like the rest of him: lengthy, thick, and beautiful cerulean blue, with a fat head that drizzled pre-cum if you teased him just right, and speckled with tanhì that glowed bright when he was close to the edge.
Pressing your cheek to his temple, you whispered to him, “You’re gorgeous and I want you inside me so badly.”
The twisting and throbbing pleasure in Neteyam’s midsection sparked in warning at your words and his hands flew to halt the motion of yours. Any more stimulation and he was going to lose his control and spill before he was ready to. He stayed your wrists when you tried to tease his cock some more and he flashed you a cautionary glance, “I need to cool off.”
Looping your arms around his neck you pushed off the balls of your feet to wrap your legs about his hips again. You whined, “No, I need you now.” Wriggling your hips, you felt the head of his cock brush your core where you wanted him most, but Neteyam snaked his arms under your bottom to keep you apart.
“No, I want to enjoy playing with you some more first. My mouth is watering to taste you.”
You bleated in frustration, “No, take me now. Please? Please, sir!”
Neteyam gave a throaty chuckle, walking you both towards the mossy bank, “Nice try.”
Reaching the moss-topped embankment, Neteyam lifted your body and sat you down on it, “Lie back, paskalin.”
He remained in the hot spring, the water pooling about his waist. The edge of the bank sat flush against his sternum and his intention was clear in his eyes as gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie down. Neteyam had expressed his desire to taste you and you knew that he was going to do just that; torture you with his lips and tongue until you were begging for all of him.
Leaning down with a slight pout at being denied your request to be penetrated, you stole one last kiss from his moist lips before obeying his instruction, “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” Neteyam purred, watching as you lay down and automatically lifted your legs into the air, bent at the knees, to display yourself to him.
He almost groaned and his cock throbbed eagerly at the erotic vision you made. Dewdrops of water clung to the supple skin of your thighs and though all of you was damp from the hot spring, your pussy glistened with your own slick moisture. The elevation of the bank was perfect for what he was about to do. All he had to do was lean down a little and he’d be able to lick and delve through your slick folds.
Curling one large hand around one of your hips to steady you, he ran his other in a tantalising rub over your lower belly. When the first lap of his tongue stroked over your core, you jumped with a soft wail. He bent to kiss you where you now burned the hottest, his tongue and lips making love to your clit, isolating it and sucking moderately. He took his time tasting you, drinking you in leisurely and languidly. It’d always taken your breath away how skilled Neteyam was with this particular act.
When you don’t want to give the whole of your body to another, you learn to please them in other ways… This was what he’d told you once. Fortunately for you, this was only ever a warm-up. You’d have all of him in the end, you just needed to be patient.
It wasn’t just his lips and tongue that Neteyam employed, he would rub his nose back and forth over you too. And then his fingers would join the endeavour, curling, stroking and stoking your pleasure higher and higher until you felt like you were thin and brittle glass, ready to shatter at any moment.
Your core pulsated with bliss as Neteyam continued his work. His mouth continued its suckling on your clit and two of his fingers gave your pussy the attention it so craved. Your hands were clutching at his braids, your hips rocking against his face as you whimpered and moaned. The atmosphere felt hot. It’d been a little chilly when he’d first lifted you from the warm water, but that was no longer the case. Your body burned for him, the pressure in your lower belly taut and tight, on the brink of orgasm.
“Oh, I’m so close,” Your breaths were heaving, your voice unstable, and you only caught yourself just in time from saying his name instead of his formal address as you pleaded, “N-Nete- Sir, please!”
Neteyam’s approval at your formal address of him rumbled against you. He fought a smirk, keeping his lips and tongue trained on the swollen bud at the apex of your thighs. You were so slick that the action of his fingers was squelching obscenely and he swore his cock was pulsing in time with each clench and throb of your pussy.
Boldly, knowing that he and his brother had experimented with you recently in this form of play, he moved his free hand from your hip to run a slick thumb over your butthole. You startled a little at the feel of it, but he continued to massage his thumb over the puckered flesh. There were no toys present tonight, but he knew you’d enjoyed the use of the butt plugs during the last couple of sessions at the shack. His thumb would have to do tonight.
You gave a muffled yelp at the addition of Neteyam’s thumb in your butt. It was a third point of pleasure on top of what he was already doing, and it only served to intensify the rhythmic clenching of your pelvic muscles. You could feel that you were flushed from head to toe. Your thighs were trembling where they hung suspended and splayed wide in the air, and your nipples were erect, kissing the night air. But Great Mother, the paradise that you were experiencing between your thighs was staggering. You lifted your head and tipped your chin forward to look down at Neteyam, only to find his golden eyes trained right back at you as he drove your body to its limit.
There was no holding on anymore at that point. The intensity of the lust in his eyes tipped you over the precipice you’d been teetering on. Your fist flew to your mouth, stifling your shriek of ecstasy as the waves of pleasure crested and crashed over you.
Neteyam was fighting a battle of his own, wrestling with what little remained of his body’s control as he watched and felt your body explode with pleasure. Your body squeezed around his fingers and he had a fleeting moment of panic when he felt his glutes tighten and his cock tense up, ready to spurt. Removing himself from you, he held on with everything he had through a clenched jaw.
Spent, you lowered your legs and let your shins hang off the embankment’s edge. You watched through bleary eyes as Neteyam rinsed lightly, before he hauled himself out of the water and onto the bank with a splash. He scooted backwards to join you and he stretched out alongside your form, one of his hands immediately moving to cup your cheek so he could tilt your head to kiss you.
“You did so well, sweet girl. Not that you’ve ever disappointed before.” He smoothed a palm over your head, patting down the stray fly-aways of hair from your forehead.
“Thank you,” You mumbled, and when his forehead crinkled in question, awaiting something, you rolled your eyes and added, “Sir.”
Neteyam rolled onto his side towards you, his big body sheltering you as he moved to twine one of his legs between yours, “I nearly lost my control back there.” He spoke against your lips between deep kisses, his breath hot and sweet against your mouth, “My every waking thought is tainted with you. My nightly dreams are wild with you. You drive me insane, Neyomi.”
You swallowed his every kiss, every declaration he made adding to the blooming warmth you had tried so hard for weeks to stifle in your heart. You wanted him alone like this every night. You wanted him to yourself, whenever and wherever you wished. You were drowning wholly and unreservedly in him. You were in way over your head with your emotions now and you knew it.
Clutching at one of his buttocks, you shifted beneath him and urged the rest of his heavy weight to settle over you and in the cradle of your hips, “Then take me now, sir. Have me how you want.”
Chuckling darkly, Neteyam briefly rose to sit on his haunches with his knees folded. He tucked your bottom closer to the vee of his thighs and placed his hands behind your knees, “You’ve been so good playing our little game today, addressing me formally. But I’m going to make you scream one more time tonight.” He pressed his weight downward, folding your legs back until your ankles were almost in line with your ears. He settled himself over you, bracing his weight on his elbows and he purred against your cheek, “And when you scream, paskalin, I want to hear my name on your lips. Am I clear?”
It was an erotic promise delivered with all the confidence of a man who knew he would succeed in his task, and as you lay sprawled and folded over beneath him, all you could do was submit to the coming onslaught of pleasure, “Yes, sir.”
Blood pounded in your ears in anticipation as you felt Neteyam position his cock at your entrance, the blunt head of it probing for the right angle to sink into your depths. With a slight adjustment to the tilt of your hips, he found home and he penetrated you in one full thrust. You threw your head back with a strangled cry at the gratifying fullness of him. The position you were in allowed for the deepest penetration possible and you felt all of him like this.
“You alright?” Neteyam queried, checking in with you though his own voice sounded strained.
You nodded, and it was all the permission he needed.
Drawing his hips back, Neteyam slammed back into you, setting a punishing pace as he thrusted. Every single stroke of his hips drove the head of his cock past your g-spot and it slid all the way in to hit your cervix. The sensation was a mixture of both pain and pleasure in the most carnally satisfying way. There was so much of him, your pussy enveloping his hard length from root to tip repeatedly as his thrusts continued to wind the coil of pressure tighter between your hips. His breathing was harsh by your ear and the sounds leaving him were an erotic mixture of growls, grunts, moans and whimpers.
Neteyam was unaware of anything else around him currently, singularly focused on you and spellbound by the immense pleasure radiating throughout his midsection. Your own cries and mewls spurred him on and when he felt you snake a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, he knew you were fast approaching your climax, and so was he.
Your inner walls fluttered around his cock and he let his head drop against your neck. Through the haze of your bliss you heard him grate out one last order, “Squirt for me, sweet girl. I know you can. I can feel how you need to.”
And you knew you would. There was little doubt about it as the familiar feeling of needing to release something burned behind your pubic bone. You almost always did now whenever Neteyam fucked you. There was just something about him; whether it was the way your bodies came together, the shape and size of his cock, the way he thrusted, or the way he would often whisper filthy things in to your ear, you always had very wet orgasms with him.
No other man had ever made your body feel the way he did. Not even Lo’ak had succeeded in making you squirt (much to his chagrin). It seemed your body reserved that rightly solely for Neteyam.
Your orgasm threatened, looming on the horizon while you massaged your clit faster. It was all pleasure; burning, aching, throbbing pleasure and you whined, straining to reach the burst of release that was so mind-blowing it sometimes felt like you’d blacked out for several moments.
“That’s it.” Neteyam encouraged, still maintaining the gruelling rhythm of his thrusts, “What’s my name?”
“N-Neteyam.” Your voice was a stuttered sob.
“Good girl. Let go, paskalin. Scream for me.”
With several heaving intakes of breath, you felt your orgasm crash through you, your pussy contracting rhythmically while several sprays of squirt spattered between your colliding bodies. His name tore from your throat in a carnal scream that you threw to the night sky above you, “NETEYAM!”
Neteyam’s entire frame strained and then tensed, and a grating growl left him as his own climax followed. His cock pulsed hard as he ejaculated, his hips pressed so tightly to yours it was as if he wanted to become one with your body and never part from you again. He slumped onto his side, breathless and panting rapidly while his body fought to find its equilibrium again after its euphoria. Yours was doing the same while you rested flat on your back with limp legs.
Usually, the afterglow after you’d played with Neteyam and Lo’ak was peaceful and pleasant, the three of you just cuddling and talking before cleaning up. However, tonight you felt uneasy in the face of your waning pleasure and you were very aware of Lo’ak’s absence. Neteyam was sprawled lethargically to your left, one of his legs tangled with yours while one of his arms was thrown over your abdomen.
It was a confronting sight and situation, being alone post-sex with Neteyam with nothing or no one else there to distract your mind from spiralling into the mess of your emotions. Your body still hummed with the remnants of your climax, but your heart seized in your chest with the realisation Neteyam had ruined you for anyone else now. You were quite certain that your body, mind and soul would never yearn for any other like it did for this man.
“Hey, you.” Neteyam’s voice crooned softly, and you returned your attention to him. His eyes were heavy with his somnolence and his expression was soft, contented. He stroked a finger over your cheek and trailed it over your lips. You instinctively puckered your lips in a gentle kiss.
“Hey,” You parroted, suddenly lost for words and not knowing what else to say.
He leaned over towards you and gathered you in his arms so you were flush against his chest. He stroked a warm hand over your hair before he began to lay tender kisses on your face; your cheek, your nose, both your eyes and then your forehead. It was both wonderfully and terrifyingly intimate.
You were in far too deep. You’d taken a risk; a beautiful and indulgent risk, and it was abundantly clear to you now how unwise it had been. Neteyam was out of your reach as a potential mate. You could never be truly his. It wasn’t your place.
His hand continued its path of caresses over your face, and you felt him rub his cheek against your head. The occasional brush of his lips along your hairline or along the delicate shell of your ear followed while he murmured sweet nothings to you; about how beautiful you were; how good you had been with him; how good you felt in his arms…
This dreamy intimacy had to stop. There was a line between body play and love, and you didn’t know where it was anymore. This was too much, too sweet…
One word slipped from your lips, painful in the implication of its meaning, “Tsyoklìt.”
Neteyam stilled at the mention of your safe word. He pulled back a little to regard you with a furrowed brow. Your playtime session had ended, so your utterance of the word was unexpected.
Meeting your gaze, he found your eyes wide with uncertainty and several emotions flashed across his handsome face as his mind processed your reaction: Mild confusion, slight amusement, surprise, and then sudden comprehension. A mumbled apology tumbled from his lips. He pushed up on an elbow to sit up, shuffling away to put some space between you at the realisation that he’d made you uncomfortable with his tender show of affection.
You felt a sharp pinprick in your chest as he moved away from you. It was the last thing you wanted… but you had to work smart now… You couldn’t dig yourself a hole any bigger than the one you were already in or you’d never make it out…
The atmosphere was suddenly taut with uncomfortable tension. It felt like something between the both of you had shifted; like the world was now somehow wrong and sitting off its intended axis. You swallowed the burgeoning lump in your throat and stared wordlessly at the man before you.
Neteyam’s expression was neutral, but you knew he’d schooled it that way intentionally. But he hadn’t done it quickly enough for you to miss the hurt that had flickered in his eyes for a brief moment.
Eywa, what had you done?... What had you both done?... You were so thoroughly fucked in this mess now…
***~~~***
Author's Note:Thank you all so much for reading. Thank you for all your support! It means the absolute world to me to hear from you. Comments, likes & reblogs are always so appreciated. 💕
I do have a Part 4 planned, and we will see another Sully bro threesome in it, plus more emotional drama between NeteyamxReader (Neyomi).
Let me know if I have your user in the taglist wrong and for those who'd like to be added, give me a shout in the comments. 😄
Part IV - Haunted by You now HERE
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maapllee · 3 months
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All The Stars~ PT.2
BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.2
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A/N: I didn't expect the prequel to this to get as much attention as it did. I'm so grateful you guys liked it, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too. <333
☁︎ [You and Bakugou were always head to head, fighting for the top spot.
The tension between you and Bakugou was firey, pushing both of you as well as 1A to perform better. Aizawa Sensei secretly appreciated the effect the both of you had on the rest of the class- he would let you both drop detention for disrupting the class for the 7th time in a row.
Your admiration for Bakugou started when you saw him save civilians from a falling building before he had his license. He was chewed out for it endlessly- not that he cared. You observed from the sidelines, noting he wasn't as heartless nor avoidant as you had previously thought.] ☁︎
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ALL THE STARS~ PT.1 | ALL THE STARS~ PT.3
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Katsuki Bakugou found himself looking forward to Wednesdays.
Wednesdays? That's a weird day to look forward to, apart from art class or PE or something. As the weeks progressed, so did the number of gifts in Bakugou's locker- with Bakugou's increasing frustration, of course. The gifts were obviously from one person. "It ain't even close to Valentine's Day, which blockhead is causing all this trouble?" Bakugou'd answer irritably when questioned. Lucky for you, you convinced Hatsume to help you delete the footage when you'd pick his locker open.
His secret admirer. What if it was a prank? What if it was one of his peers? What if it was some crazy stalker like Toga? He found himself scared again. Scared of being hurt. After being kidnapped by the League, his anxiety and nightmares made him spiral. To wake up in a cold sweat at 4:23 was now a habit. He'd sulk and bury his head into his pillow as if it'd absorb his anger. All he could think about these nights was this secret admirer of his. They were really something, THE great dynamite king killer blah blah Bakugou found himself staying up at night, face flushed as he thought of them.
BAKUGOU woke up drenched in his own sweat again. His bedsheets were damp with sweat as the air around him was stuffy. Relief washed over him as he slumped back against the wall and realised it was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. He placed his feet on the cold tiles on the floor, deciding to go for a run.
His mind was foggy- with thoughts of his secret admirer. He'd hate to admit that those 'high protein chocolates' helped him buff up and increase his stamina as well. The cool air rustled through the trees along the path he jogged. He saw someone sleeping under one of the trees as the sun was rising, the light illuminating the person. The nearer he got, the faster his heart beat.
The soft rays of the sun glazed over your skin like honey. You were fast asleep on the soft grass, mouth slightly open. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at your sight- he was very vocal about how much he hated you. Though obvious to you and the rest of the Bakusquad that he had a soft spot for you. Passing you cold water during breaks, buying you a soda from the nearest vending machine after a long day of patrolling during your internship. "It's only so that they can try to become better than me, it's funny to watch them try." He'd say.
Whatever he felt or said, it was hard to deny you were attractive. Your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your beautiful smile.
He'd tilt his head as he watched you from his desk as you giggled alongside Mina as you laughed at another one of Kaminari's pranks. He loved how your eyes would light up at seeing your favourite side dishes on the menu at the cafeteria and the cute expressions you made while eating, the way your nose danced as you chewed on the food. And right now, he loved how your hair spread out on the grass as you dreamt on.
Noticing a blueish diary next to you, his body moved before he could register. The first few pages were filled with sketches of cats and pros, along with some classmates. He sat down cross-legged next to you, careful not to wake you as he flipped through the diary.
Katsuki Fucking Bakugou knew darn well he was wrong- and that made him feel some type of way. Curiosity blew up the cat?
His warm fingers traced the sketches as his face heated up despite the morning chill. He leaned against the bark of the tree, propping the book on his knees. A slip of neon paper fell out as he admired the sketches- the neon orange paste-it drifted onto the dewy grass. Bakugou picked it up, noting the familiarity. There were only three words on the neon note.
Katsuki ran towards the dorms with your diary in his hand, beet red. He shook his head as those words swam through his mind- such a simple arrangement of three words, really.
High Protein Chocolate.
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A/N: PT.3 coming soon, please stay tuned~
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