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#i feel sure..but at the same time this is tentative lol
yaekko · 9 days
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hi ! i’m not sure if ur reqs are open but i was wondering if i could get a bff gojo x fem reader having sex for the first time even tho they’re just besties ^.^ i’m in love w bff gojo + i love ur writing !!
 BFF ! ( best friends who fuck )
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⋆ mdni. cunilingus, pussy drunk Satoru, a bunch of praising, dirty talk and pet names like baby, princess, pretty, angel ‹3. ( nonie ily this idea made me scream for a good while and also thank you so so much ! im happy u like what I write 𖹭 ) and yes! my requests are always open
 ⋆ side note: it’s up to you to decide if they're virgins or not ajsgshsh I left that open to interpretation lol.
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late night friday movies with Satoru where a must, cozy blankets covering your thighs and whatever it could from your best friend’s incredibly long legs propped up on the coffee table. what started with you both picking whatever cringe movie and attempting to watch through it, ended up with giggled remarks of the horrendous plot and terrible acting in the screen.
Satoru’s rambles over any minor detail were expected, what you did not expect was for him to suggest something completely unexpected, “have you thought about it?” he asks, a big chunk of ice cream down his mouth while pointing at the tv screen where the main two characters were currently passionately making out, “you and me?”
the saliva in your mouth chokes you for a brief second before turning your head towards the man with the cocky smile, “you’re kidding”
“i’m not” he speaks, remaining unbothered, eyes glued to the now clean spoon, “we’ve known each other since so long, don’t you think our sexual chemistry would be amazing?” Satoru smirks, now turning and leaning closer to your wide eyed face.
you couldn’t deny your best friend was incredibly hot, bright blue eyes and messy white hair with matching long eyelashes, he was ethereal and Satoru thought the same about you, he never admitted how fucking gorgeous you were but his continuous praises in the shape of petnames was, hopefully, enough for you to see.
“i don’t know...” you bite your lip, a slight tug on your belly making itself present at the closeness of him, subtly forcing you to lean back until your head laid on the armrest and Satoru’s body towered over yours.
“c’mon pretty, don’t get all shy on me” he rasps, “i bet i can make you feel so good, i know your cute body like no one else” and to be fair, he is right, multiple tickling fights have had you confessing your sensitive spots to Satoru, which now he attempts to use them for your pleasure.
you whine, low and almost inaudible, “promise our friendship won’t change” you reply, and it’s all Satoru needs, a strained ‘promise’ muttered before his lips crash on yours with a satisfied groan, his tongue is quick to meet yours, tangling and allowing the lewd sound of saliva and lips crashing resonate under the tv sound muffled in the background.
“haaa” he gasps once you break the kiss, hands eagerly pulling, squeezing and tugging on your skin and clothes until you’re laying naked under his body, Satoru’s quick to take off his shirt and toss it aside along with the mess of cloth in the floor, “you’re so sexy, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous” it’s a dark murmur, sliding your panties down for his eyes to see the threads of slick connecting your folds and the fabric, a broken sound coming from his lips as if he just got punched in the gut.
“gonna make you feel so good, princess” Satoru speaks to himself, eyes glued on your cunt as he lays down between your legs, fingertips parting your glistening folds with a soft gasp, truth to be told, he’s never been so turned on in his whole life, “wanna eat your perfect cunt so bad” he shakes, slowly grinding his boxer clothed cock against the couch, a single hand coming up to squeeze your tits while his tongue took a tentative lick on your slit that made his eyes roll.
“fuck!” you both whimper at the same time, with Satoru’s mind reeling at the taste of you, driven by his lust and pulsing cock as he leans down and attaches his lips to your pussy, messily and desperately eating you out with his eyes crossing from pleasure, a couple groans expressed directly on your sensitive flesh.
“so good, baby, you taste amazing” Satoru slurs, holding onto your asscheeks and pulling you up slightly, on the perfect angle to make out with your cunt. the moans you let out are music to his ears, driving him to plunge his tongue deeper, squeeze your ass harder and moan louder.
“’Toru, i’m so close” you squeal, expecting for him to pull back, to let you catch a break but surprisingly, he just goes faster, the sounds of his tongue in and around your pussy only increasing, fueling you to squirm and tug on his soft hair until you’re spasming around his tongue with a broken cry.
yet his tongue doesn’t stop for another couple of minutes, allowing you to ride your orgasm and buck slightly, fucking yourself on his eager tongue, “you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted” he finally grunts, voice hoarse and eyes almost black by the lust etched in his brain, the spot under his hips sticky with the copious amounts of precum his twitching cock spurted, “you’re letting me fuck you now, right princess?” Satoru murmurs, not really expecting a reply before tapping your puffy clit with the glistening tip of his cock, eyes fully focused in the way your mixed juices stick to his cock with each soft tap.
then you nod slightly, a quiet “please”, followed by your hands on his hips and he’s inching inside of you, barely spreading your folds around his girth but Satoru already feels like he’s about to faint.
“a-ah, fuck...!” he groans, shaky fingers grasp your waist and the armrest above your head, and from where you laid you could see his abs clenching, chest heaving, eyes blurry and jaw slacked, letting out loud puffs of pleasure, absolutely fucked out. it takes his whole strength to bury the rest of his long cock inside your warm cunt, groaning like it fucking hurts, but in reality, the thing it hurts him is thinking why you haven’t fucked earlier. “you’re an angel, you and your heavenly cunt” it takes everything in Satoru as not to drool and pant like a dog, slowly and sloppily fucking into your warmth, his nails are probably ripping the leather of the couch but he doesn’t mind, hell no, his mind is fully absorbed and bordering on insanity at the feeling of you, “tell me how it feels” he begs.
“so good, ’toru” you whimper, eyes not certain if to see his fucked expression or look down to where his cock buries inside of you, coming out glistening by your dripping slick, “my pussy feels so good”
“fuck, baby!” his eyes close shut, a shudder running down his spine at your words, only encouraging him to go faster, the squelch of your cunt and his balls smacking on your ass growing, “that’s right, only i can make you feel this good, hm? no other boy you’ll sleep with will make you feel like this” he roars, “this pussy is made for me to claim and mold you to the shape of my cock” his thrusts are now erratic, panting so loud you’re unsure how he hasn’t choked yet, but the continuous smack of his tip on your g-spot makes you forget about anything else, mouth open and eyes crossed as you feel yourself cumming unannounced.
“oh, god, you’re cumming?” he sounds shocked, eyes widening and cock throbbing at the sensation of your cunt sucking on his length with each thrust, as if not wishing to let him go, “i’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close” all you hear through the slight buzz on your ears is babbling, incoherent mumbling of Satoru speaking to himself, fucking himself stupid on your pussy before, much against his wishes, pulling out of your warmth and shooting thick ropes of hot cum on your chest, some even landing on your chin by how hard you made him cum.
in the blink of an eye his lips are on yours again, shakily and way too messy for you to follow through the limp state where he left you, but don’t worry, Satoru will help you increase your stamina too, and perhaps, you’ll let him cum inside next time.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
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▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
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❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
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❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
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❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
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❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
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❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
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❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
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▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
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sc0rpiodixon · 18 days
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Comforting Daryl Dixon after a nightmare ˖ . ݁ ☾ . ݁₊
daryl dixon x reader moodboard and blurb
words: 641
warnings: mentions of nightmares (no description)
a/n: this is the first piece of writing I’ve put out pls be kind <3
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ☾ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
The moon was casting a soft glow through the windows onto the bed, you watched it aimlessly waiting for sleep to finally take over. You lay your head back onto Daryl’s chest, his warmth radiating like a furnace.
His arm that was tucked under your shoulder blades started to tense up. The pumping of his heart beat was steadily increasing as you hear his breathing change, slowly getting more erratic followed by a slight whimper escaping his lips. It had happened before, but not for a couple years.
At the beginning of your relationship he was riddled with nightmares, waking up sweating bullets in the tent at the farm. He was embarrassed the first couple times it had happened, he would apologize for waking you, acting like he didn’t need the comfort. He would try to hide his face and go back to sleep, or he would end up leaving the tent after it happened and go for a hunt.
You soon chipped through that and he discovered how much he loved your comfort. He felt safe and loved when you’d caress his cheeks, slowly waking him from the terrors. The nightmares slowed as years went on, but when they did occur, you were there to bring him back to safety in your arms.
You slide your hand into his, softly rubbing his calloused fingers. Another whimper leaves his mouth, his chest heaving faster. He flips his head to the side a couple times before slowly opening his eyes. There was a glossy sheen to his eyes as he turned to you, breaking your heart. He looked at you with a tired, blank expression, almost scared.
You rub his hand for a moment, giving him a second to calm his breathing. His arm softened under your body, sinking into the bed but still keeping his grip on you. He needed to feel you, to find that comfort he knows and loves.
You sit up more, still holding his hand, and reach to your bedside table where you keep a glass of water. You help him sit up, making sure he doesn’t choke, and watch him hold the water in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. His eyes fall shut for a moment as he sips, letting his face relax.
You run a hand through his hair, rubbing it away from his face before kissing his cheek. You hated seeing him flustered and scared like that, you just wanted him to feel safe.
You put the glass back on the bedside table before giving him all your attention. You see his glossy eyes, and the small shine of a tear under them. You delicately hold his cheek and wipe the tear with your thumb, noticing the smoothing of his tense muscles. He leans into your hand, almost like a puppy getting scratches.
“It’s okay.” You whisper to him and lay back onto the pillows.
You bring him down with you, slowly and gently pulling his head to your chest. He snuggles into your chest, his head resting on your breasts, his favorite pillow. You hold him, caressing his cheek slowly as his arm reaches up and wraps around your midsection, trying to get closer.
You kiss the top of his hair, and he reacts, lifting his head to look up at you with those sleepy blue eyes. You continue to rub his head as he looks up at you, just watching you care for him, watching you love him.
“I love you.” He rasps out
“I love you too baby.” You respond, continuing to hold him close as he lays his head back down, feeling the safest in your arms.
a/n: I am not a writer lol, and most of what I write is for my own consumption, but I enjoyed this little daydream and wanted to try something different
also!!! Let me know if you guys prefer the moodboards that are set up like the basic 9 squares or ones like this one where it’s a little mix matched?? I did the last one in this same style and I think it works for some moodboards but not all. Lmk what you guys prefer pls and thank you 🕷️✨
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anemonelovesfiction · 10 months
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I’ve Neglected you Far Too Long
Ao’nung x Hybrid Fem! Reader
No mentions of Y/n though but its implied. Obviously they’re adults- I quite literally mention Ao’nung has tattoo’s. And obviously theres some smut.
Kind of like an arranged marriage scenario. Any words in English are stricken through. If they’re in italics its just emphasis on that word. Starts off with a bit of background, smut is near the end lol, but its a lot of it.
Word count: 9.2K because I got carried away.
I would say it started with my birth. I was granted the luck of being born Kiri’s twin, with a few minor setbacks, although to Neytiri they were enough to refuse taking me in as her own. I was born with the size and appearance of a human- but I was a halfbreed. My features were human but I was the one born with fangs and I had a kuru as well but it was relative to my size, it was still encased in a big braid and reached past my butt, almost mid thigh, yet still had the natives squinting to see it.
If it wasn’t for Jake pointing out that I had a queue and didn’t need an exomask to breathe, one of the Metkayina warriors would have thrown their spear, killing me. I was captured alongside Spider, when they put me in the machine they’d put Spider in, it awakened some telekinetic abilities I didn’t know I had.
But they’re tied to my emotions and I could only ever really use them if I felt strongly about something. Which is why I was able to help kill most of the humans that had hunted the tulkun, I had enough of their interrogations and abuse.
After losing Neteyam, Ronal and Tonowari welcomed the Sully’s into the Metkayina, and were willing to accommodate for Spider only if I were to marry their son. Their reason being that my telekinetic abilities - which seemed to surpass Kiri’s in their eyes- could protect their clan and son if anything like that happened again.
Ronal disliked that I was half human, she didn’t really want me to marry her son with my outward appearance- like one of the tawtute- sky people- but if I could be used to protect her dear son, thats all that mattered to her, keeping her lineage going.
“We could unite the reef clans and forest people.”
Were Neytiri’s words after Ronal had brought up her reasoning. Tonowari had stayed silent with his hands on his knee’s. It was Ronal’s idea for them to kneel so I wouldn’t feel intimidated by their height, but I’m shorter than most humans, so they were still a good head taller than me, maybe two.
“Of course this is your choice, kid.” Jake stated carefully, his hand movements mimicking that of a calm ultimatum, and this was anything but.
I nodded once, then walked out of the tent and sat by the beach. I couldn’t think of anyone other than Spider. If he were to go back to the Omaticaya, he’s be lonely. His entire life revolved around the Sully’s and I couldn’t risk him being kicked out, and I refused to spend any more time away from my sister.
I’d gotten an earful from Neytiri that day about being disrespectful to the clan leaders for leaving the way I did. I had no idea how to respond and she despised me- had I looked like Kiri I’m sure the story would be different, but I’m not like her, my genetics decided to mute the blue and because of that, I’d forever be treated as a human by Neytiri- even if I could breathe the same air as her, even if I can make tsaheylu.
And it has lead me to being bathed in scents that Ao’nung found pleasing. Neytiri and Jake were allowed to voice their opinion on the matter and Jake had mentioned that this smelled of raspberries back on earth.
As tradition, the mother of the groom and any female sibling, or honorary females washed the bride in the scents and got her ready for her soon-to-be husband. And all of the males near and dear to my heart would do the same to the groom. In this case I had told them not to do anything to change his appearance and to leave him as is. Even if he’d made up with Lo’ak, I could never forget the face he made after finding out he was betrothed to me. The shock in his face said it all, he didn’t want me, and I didn’t want him either but at least I was cordial about it.
I had no idea how big of a celebration this would be. Everyone from the clan walked up and wished blessings upon us, a fruitful- and fertile- marriage. I’m glad I stuck around with Spider and learned Na’Vi while we were kids as a lot of the well wishes were very long and I’d kick myself in the face if I had to childishly reply with broken Na’Vi.
Nothing happened that night.
Don’t get me wrong I’m excited and happy we didn’t do what I was told married couples do by Neytiri. She went into greater detail than Norm did about mating as a Na’Vi and how the tsaheylu was a crucial part of becoming connected to ones mate. Most nights I was ignored and we’d go to sleep on separate mats. I’d need to start Tsahik training but I’d need to learn the things Tsireya had learned when she was younger and work my way up in rank. Because of this, Lo’ak was in the lead of becoming Olo’eyktan considering he’s earned their trust and Tsireya knew more about healing.
_________
“The tattoo’s have different meanings and what one curve could mean for someone, it could be translated differently in another clan members markings.” Tsireya mentions while showing me two nearly identical tattoo’s.
“These are almost identical.” I stated blankly and giggled, placing her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.
“Yes but you noticed the difference between the two, you said almost. Explain what you see.” She asks.
“This one has what appears to be a smoother execution. This one seems bold, like you used a darker ink? It has jagged edges too.”
“The first one was for a warrior who had just had his inknimaya. Everything went well for him and the skimwing he had bonded with. For the second, not so much, he experienced much pain and eventually managed to execute it perfectly.”
“The second tattoo is slightly bigger, could this indicate multiple tries to his inknimaya?”
“You are a quick learner.” Tsireya smiles at me and I smile back. It wasn’t hard to be genuine around her and she made it hard to hate her. She’s seen me naked more times than my own husband, and she’d only seen me before I got married to him.
By the end of the lesson she struggles to get on her feet from kneeling in front of me and I feel terrible.
“You don’t always have to kneel for us to be the same height, Tsireya. If you wanted to stand I wouldn’t mind.” This isn’t the first time I tell her.
“I need to be flexible.” She states happily.
“For who, Lo’ak?” I ask and start laughing at her embarrassed face.
“I’m sorry, Rey, but these jokes just come naturally to me, I can’t stop them when my tongue is faster than my mind.” I giggle as she huffs and turns her head.
“I’ll make the same jokes when you are with child.”
“No you won’t.” Partly because I’ve yet to consummate my marriage. “I don’t even know if we could have kids considering I’m a half-breed that looks human.” I stated aloud.
“Toruk Macto is a half breed.” She states as if it were obvious.
“Yes, but he has the appearance of a native. It’s easier for him to blend in. Lo’ak is also a half breed and he too can hide with the rest of the Na’Vi. I’m-“ I stop myself before saying anything too harsh, or she’d scold me. “-different.”
“The kind of different my brother needs in his life. Keep trying for children and I will pray that the great mother blesses you!” She says over enthused.
“Sure.” I stated simply, smiling at her. We said our goodbyes and I headed off toward his marui pod.
_________
“Where have you been?”
“With your sister. Learning.” I stated, I’ve grown to know Ao’nung likes short answers and to never bother him when he was entranced with something- whether it was learning a new trick on a skimwing or sparring. I placed my medical bag down- Kiri made this one for me as a present and I never went anywhere without it.
I can feel his eyes on me while I search in a big box for some herbs to refill my bag. The bag hangs over my chest and does a good job of hiding my stomach- not that its big, I hide it from the sun since I’m often exposed. I’d learned to wear traditional clothes and the loincloths were made in children's size due to my stature. The top was something Kiri had to teach me to make- it resembles a human sports bra but matching my loincloth.
My loincloth was traditional in every sense except it didn’t have a hole for a tail, but it still adjusted and tied off on the side, just like everyone else's.
“Are you hurt?” I ask him once I refill my bag and look up to face him. I’d known of his tattoo’d arms but the one on his face was new. It made his eyes pop and he looked handsome- but that didn’t matter.
“What?” He asks as of he hadn’t heard me before.
“Are you hurt. Do you need something from me?” I asked him and he understands what I mean.
“No.” He answers and turns his face toward the side to look at the floor of his- our, because it technically is ours- marui.
“Then I will head out and assist.” I answered not really caring to give him a chance to respond- let alone process- what I said. But he was faster than I was and his hand reached around my bicep and that stopped me.
He was never one to touch me. Not when it came to helping me learn the way of his village, not now, and not even on our wedding night. I press my teeth on my tongue to prevent myself from saying something smart and I turn to face him. I refuse to talk as I’d always found some way to offend him with whatever I said so I waited for him to speak.
“Do you resent me?” He asks simply and this question is a slap to my face. My face only forms in confusion as my eyebrows knit together and my eyes squint slightly.
“I don’t-“ I began but stopped myself from speaking as he lets go of my bicep. I look over at his hand and back at him feeling more confusion than ever.
“I see.” He answers plainly and I furrow my brows some more before raising one and looking at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.” He answers simply and I feel like I’d immediately done something wrong again. “Your face said everything your words could not.”
“But-“
“You should go out and assist my sister. Let her know I held you back if she asks why you are late.” He states before walking past me and heading out the opening of the marui with his spear.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding once the curtain fell shut again. Of course I resented him, he was rude, underestimated me in everything, and never made an effort to get to know me. But I hadn’t said any of that to his face and I was in control of my emotions and knew I didn’t make a face of disgust- but why did he ask the question in the first place?
_________
“Did you talk to her?” Spider asks as soon as Ao’nung joins the hunting party. Due to his inability to bond with the animals he often rode with Lo’ak.
“Yes.” Ao’nung answered.
“Is she coming to the party tonight?” Lo’ak asks after lightly nudging between Spider’s hips to quiet the grown man in front of him, he sure was nosey today.
“I did not ask.” Ao’nung answers and Spider grumbles.
“The whole point was to-“ Spider stops himself when Lo’ak’s Ilu immediately surges forward. And the hunt began.
_________
“Theres a lot of people gathering for something outside. Was there something planned for today? Did I have to do something?” I asked nervously once Ao’nung had come into the marui. He must have showered at some point because he didn’t smell like sea air like he usually does after a hunting trip.
“The celebration of our union.” Is all he says while placing his spear on the wall along with his others.
“But we-“
“It’s what you call an Annie-server.” He states in his best english and given the severity of my nerves I couldn’t find the way he fudged up the words funny at this time.
“It hasn’t been a year yet-“ I stop myself as he walks over to pick the accessories he never touches, taking the ones he has on and replacing them with those.
“Has it?” I ask myself quietly.
“It has.” He answers and stops in front of me. One hand on my shoulder but its immediately removed when I look at it.
“Please put these on.” He hands me a matching pair, the one from our wedding- union as they call it. It’s supposed to show that we are harmonious. I try to tie the bands on my anklet together but my fingers keep fumbling and I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Let me help you.” He sits in front of me and offers his hand to take my leg.
“No-“ He takes my leg after letting out a small hiss of his own and sets it on top of his thigh where he leans over and carefully ties the bands together. His hands on my ankle sends a shiver up my spine.
“It’s only done the first year. They will ask invasive questions. I’m glad my sister convinced you to use the soap. Come.” He stands quickly and heads over to the entrance of the marui.
He holds the flap of the curtain open for me to walk through. I was going to comment on why his hair was undone but was met with a bunch of cheers and a celebratory song. I’m awestruck as the clan starts parting and a walkway is created for me. I follow them and end up near the front.
“We have come to celebrate the night this union was made one year ago.” Ronal smiles big at the clan as she announces her words.
“It is time to take on the tradition of the couples.” Tonowari joins in and the crowd basically goes wild. I stand with a fake smile plastered on my face.
“Ao’nung. Face your bride.” Tonowari speaks once more and he steps up in front of me before kneeling respectfully taking my hand and kissing it, making a majority of the girls awe at his gesture, but I knew better, it was a show. I let go of his hand quickly and awaited further instruction.
“This is our clans best kept secret. You will braid his hair to your liking as a symbol of life's twists and turns bringing you together. And he is to maintain the hairstyle or one similar for the rest of his life as his devotion to you.” Ronal states.
My eyes widened and I’m fucked. I can braid for sure, all thanks to Tuk, Kiri, and Neteyam consistently asking me to braid their hair often, but I didn’t know about this was a requirement. If Lo’ak and Tsireya were to have wedded before myself and Ao’nung I would have expected this. But they married about four weeks after we did. And Ao’nung doesn’t let anyone touch his hair. My eyes wandered over to find his staring back at me and I looked down releasing quiet but heavy exhale.
“But before we start, you are to drink this.” Ronal hands me a cup thats decently sized, still huge in comparison to me but good enough to grab.
“This is made up of many many plants and fruits from our clan and has been prayed over with many blessings poured into it from the beginning of the process.” Ronal informs me.
“This drink is to be shared between the two of you. You will speak many blessings in it yourself- in a hushed voice, take a drink and you will hand it off to your mate to receive the blessings.” Ronal smiles and hands the cup over to me.
I’m nervous as shit and am worried I might say the wrong thing but am glad it doesn’t have to be shared aloud. And I take a look into the cup and see the deep red liquid inside and sigh.
“Treat me like the mate I ought to be treated and my face won’t show resentment again.” I whispered into it and took a big chug- considering there was a lot of liquid in there.
I walk over toward Ao’nung and hand him the cup I’d just drank from and he drinks the rest. The cheers coming from the crowd make my tummy tingle and I start feeling weird. I should probably ask Tsireya what kinds of things were included in there to see if its compatible with my human half.
“You may begin.” Tonowari gently nods his head once at me and I nod.
“Could-“ I stop myself and Ao’nungs eyes are burning in mine and nervously chuckle, averting my eyes once more.
“Could you please turn so I can reach your head, Yawne?” I blush harshly at that and the positive whispers in the crowd are making me feel uncomfortable, but I always had to put on a show for them. Ao’nung nods once and does as I ask and I put myself to work.
His tail wraps loosely on my calf and it feels warm. I’m sure this is all for the sake of appearance but it makes it feel like it’s a smidge hard to breathe. I won’t lie, after a long day of chores, or whatever strenuous activity Ao’nung has done his hair looks the best right before he showers. Pieces of it have come out of the braids and are clinging to his face by his sweat- no, stop it.
I’d worked diligently and managed to create the hairstyle he always wears. Except some of the braids on the sides twist to form X’s.
“You barely changed it.” Ao’nung states after feeling around and turning to face me.
“This is how you look best, to me.” I admit.
“Especially when some of these,“ I gently yank out the loose pieces I’d failed to tuck in properly. “Slip out. Like after you finish working.” I find myself gingerly placing my hand on his cheek, I look down at his lips and my eyes slightly widen at my own actions before I remove my hand slowly, making my movements not show how we truly are with one another, and taking a step back.
Several one of the younger girls had held on to the boys courting them and mentioned how they wanted a love like ours and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If only they knew what our Love really was.
“The last thing for you to do is to decide which one of these your mate has prepared. This will also test to see how well you notice our signature hunting mark.” Tsireya steps back and reveals three fish total that had been cooked. If he managed to hunt with Lo’ak and Spider I’d be more willing to pick out Spiders pathetic excuse of a hunt since he did things the human way. Then I’d have to compare it to Lo’ak’s which might resemble both clans hunting and preparing skills into one and choose the one that least resembled the two. But if they decided to choose at random from other clansmen, I’m screwed.
It suddenly felt like my body temperature had risen and I could feel the slight stickiness that forms on my skin before I start sweating and I feel slightly uncomfortable. I take a look at the three and can tell which one Spider made and fight the urge to giggle. He has talent, but sometimes massacres his huntings, whether he did this on purpose or not I’m thankful to Eywa.
The next two are hard to tell as they’re on similar plates and dished the same. So I focus in depth on the one in the middle and notice it’s one of Lo’ak’s favorite fish to hunt and I want to look at the boy and thank him, but instead look up to Tsireya and smile.
“The one on the left.” I point to it and she smiles back.
“How do you know?” Tsireya asks.
“The cutting pattern is one he chooses often and he knows this is my favorite fish.” I hold a hand on my chest for sentimental value.
The party continued without a hitch and I started feeling hotter by the second before excusing myself while everyone was either drunk, picking at the food table, dancing, or even singing I managed to slide my feet in the water and felt myself cool down significantly.
“Enjoying your anniversary?” Lo’ak asks me as he comes up behind me.
“Sure. Just glad its you and not any nosey person asking me invasive questions. I had an elder ask me if he’s good in bed. I had to lie to someone about my non-existent sex life.”
Lo’ak lets out a laugh and places his arm around me. For being more human appearing than him he always treated me as an equal. I appreciate him for doing that, even if I wasn’t technically adopted alongside Kiri, he always called me his sister.
“What was in that drink?” I asked him and he shrugs.
“I thought you’d know, but I think Tsireya said something about it containing an aphrodisiac?” Lo’ak states and I laugh.
“Come on bro,”
“I’m deadass.”
“Even if it did, nothings coming out of it. He hates my guts.” I sigh and bring my knees to my chest.
“He can’t possibly hate you.”
“Yes he does! Every morning I wake up he’s not there. Every time before bedtime I set out his mat since he comes home after I’ve passed out- and I know this because I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and see him on the opposite side of the room dead asleep.”
“Okay but what about that time you said he cuddled you.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?” He asks.
_________
I lied shivering getting up frequently due to the cold air and having to pee. Ao’nung had come in quite late and I’d woken up for the upteenth time tired as hell and unable to warm myself up.
“Why do you keep getting up. Either stay up or stay asleep.” Ao’nung complains and turns around harshly. I didn’t bother responding as I figured sleep was more important than being petty.
But when I’d finally get comfortable and dozed off, I’d wake up with my teeth chattering and my body shaking, trying to keep warm.
“Aren’t you a half-breed? Why are you still making sounds!” He asks angrily.
“Because I’m still half human! I can withstand colder temperatures than humans can but not by much. Trust me when I tell you I’d much rather be held in captivity and tortured than to be here with you. At least they gave me blankets.” I grumble and get up to go pee once more.
I’d decided to take a long time returning but even when I’d figured he was asleep, as soon as I stepped inside he turned to face me, it looked like he might have been pacing- but I couldn’t be too sure. I’m just glad I went pee before coming back in.
“We do not have blankets right now, but we are often very warm. Maybe if I-“ He gulps. “If I held you, you would not be making noises with your teeth.” He explains.
_________
“Did you take him up on his offer?” Lo’ak asks and I push him.
“I had to. And the next day I asked your mom how the hell I could hand knit a blanket and she made a huge one, thinking it was for us to share. But I didn’t have to bother him on cooler nights again.
“But he did care for you, he came up with a solution.”
“A solution so he could get sleep and my teeth would stop chattering.” I roll my eyes.
“Okay but your favorite fish for today, explain that.” Lo’ak crosses his arms.
“I could easily tell Spider’s mutilation from yours.” I roll my eyes. “And He asked me two days ago what my favorite fish was. I know he hates when I take to long to explain myself- probably because he hates the sound of my voice, so I told him in one simple answer.”
“Did he tell you that?” Lo’ak asks.
_________
“I think I like the tulip thorn because of the way it glows at night. But the stem is also pretty with the way it wraps around and creates a mini shelter. Tuk and I used to take some leaves and tie them down to make a fort and-“
“It was a simple question. I don’t need a story attached to every answer you give me.” He stated harshly.
“Oh,” I state and do a little reflection and cringe at the many times I’d gone off on tangents while talking to him. Or the times when he’d straight up turned and walked out and I’d been left talking to myself for Eywa knows how long.
_________
“You could say that.” I answered back shortly as I didn’t want to bore yet another Na’Vi with my stories.
“Thats all you have to say?” He asks.
“I can tell you just about every negative encounter I had with him and they start from the moment I met him and lead up to this morning. I try to stay out of his way as much as possible. Its all he wants anyway.” I shrug.
“What if he didn’t?” He asks and I look at him wondering what joke he had in mind this time. Tears start to fill my eyes and threaten to fall.
“I don’t think I need a joke about my marriage, Lo’ak.” My voice wavers no matter how strong I wanted to sound.
“Hey, Hey, Hey-“ He’s quick to kneel in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders.
“I wish I could have a love story like you and Reya, or even your parents.”
“I wasn’t making a joke, I swear.”
“I can’t blame you. I’ll never know what its like to be loved.” The tears slide down my cheeks with ease. “I’m stuck with a mate who hates my guts and wishes I was a native with three fingers and three toes instead of this shit-“ I hold out my hands and wiggle my fingers.
_________
“I’m married to you for political appearance. Thats it. And the sooner you can accept that I’d much rather be with my own kind than a four-fingered-freak, the better it will be for you.”
“Don’t think I’m in love with you. You’re an asshole, a jerk, and a bully. Never in my life would I willingly choose someone like you.”
“Then don’t ask me about the status of our marriage anymore. You’re the least attractive thing I could ever lay my eyes on. I won’t ever love you, get that through your thick skull. The sooner the better.”
“You don’t even want to attempt a friendship with me?” I asked taken aback by his outburst.
“With you?” He asks and laughs bitterly. “I want nothing to do with you.” He gets in my face and pushes my chest with two of his fingers to make a point. But I’m not sure how strong he thought I was because he pushes me down. I fall flat on my ass and yelp. Something flashes in his eyes real quick.
“I’m so-“
“Don’t. I receive your message loud and clear.” I swat his hand away and I stand, making sure to walk away as fast as I can.
_________
“That can’t be true,” Lo’ak shakes his head after grabbing my hands with his.
“He might be hard headed but he will come to love you the way I love Tsireya, or how sickeningly my dad loves my mom, or how Spider loves Kiri.”
I hear someone clear their throat from behind myself and I pull my hands from Lo’ak’s and quickly wipe my tears off my face.
“I would like to speak to my mate. Alone.” My shoulders stiffen at his voice and my lower lip trembles.
“It’s okay Lo’ak. Go enjoy the party. I’m sure we’ll head back soon.” I stated as emotionless as possible and he looks between Ao’nung and myself before nodding toward me and walking back. I didn’t look back since I knew him and could hear the clap of his hand on Ao’nungs shoulder. I wish Neteyam were here to witness the amazing man and husband Lo’ak turned out to be for Tsireya.
“May I join you?”
“You requested to speak with me alone.” I stand as I say that.
“Please. Speak.” I state as I try rushing this along. I could feel myself getting warmer, although I’m sure its from the anger I was feeling at him at the moment.
“I-“ He starts speaking and stops. He looks down at the floor and kneels down, the most sincere apology in this clan. “I need to apologize for how I have treated you.”
I can’t help but let out a chuckle at the scenario in front of me and shake my head in disappointment. He furrows the skin where his eyebrows would be if he were human and studies my face.
“What is wrong?” He asks and I feel like a mad woman.
“You expect me to believe you mean that?” I ask him and he looks confused. He makes eye contact.
“You don’t care about me or my feelings, Ao’nung. You only care about your appearance. Tell me that isn’t true.”
“I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you and how I have acted.” He states again and I feel the air being knocked out of my lungs as I let an audible quick exhale and couldn’t breathe in as he held eye contact.
“I have been nothing but ignorant to your needs and I want that to end. I want to get to know you. I want to learn about you.”
“I don’t know what kind of fun party juices you’ve been drinking but I’m not entertaining this. I’ll go talk to your mom and explain we haven’t bonded and you’ll be out of this union.” I start heading back toward the party.
“Please don’t,” He asks under his breath but I heard it, and stupidly turned around.
“This is what you wanted. I’m helping you. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” I scoff. “The girl you want is probably going to be over the moon when she hears you’re single and untouched.” I stated.
“I want you.” He states loudly. Still in his kneeling position.
“What?” I asked him and feel like the world has shifted. The party music had disappeared and it felt like we were the only ones on the beach. He stands and starts walking but picks me up and continues walking.
“I said I want you.” He looks directly in my eyes and holds my stare as he says that, then turns his head back to focus on where he’s going.
“Yeah I heard you the first time.” I uttered and I could feel something snap in my body. The warmth I felt earlier was in my lower belly and I felt the small zing of- no.
“Then why ask?”
“Because theres no way you- woah.” I stated as I looked to see his pupils were huge. Barely any blue coming through. And it took me until now to realize he’d walked us toward our marui pod.
“You smell so good.” He shoves his nose in between my neck and my shoulder and takes a whiff, and I squeak in surprise.
“Yeah its that soap I used when we-“
“Not that smell.”
“Fuck.” I muttered as his voice had gotten deeper for some reason. “What are you doing.” I asked as he had still not let me down.
“I’ve neglected you far too long.” He lays me down and I’m surprised to feel something soft underneath me. I could feel whatever effects of that stupid mystery drink turning me on and I laid there breathing heavily looking at his face.
“May I kiss you?” He asks and I’m too stunned to speak. I look down to his lips but quickly look back up toward his eyes.
“Why are you being nice? Is the juice affecting you too?” I asked and take my hand to feel his forehead since I’d been feeling warm too. He closes his eyes and-
“Are you purring?” I asked as he manages to nuzzle my hand and make it look like I’d been caressing his face.
“May I kiss you, yawne.” He asks again and his eyes are bearing into my soul.
“I don’t- I,” I struggle to even think this through as a flame fans through my body. “Yes.”
And his lips are on mine. He takes one of his hands and places it on my cheek and I instinctively place my hand on his arm. He prods his tongue out to stroke my lip and I squeal and nip at it. He chuckles before continuing to kiss me and peppers my face with kisses as he moves his kisses down my neck.
“Mm-“ I moan as he starts sucking my pulse point and failed to realize my legs wrapped around his waist- chest I suppose.
“Sit up.” I demand and he immediately does so.
“Am I hurting-“
“Shut it.” I stated and sit on his lap. I used my telekinesis to place his hands on my hips and forced his neck down and feverishly kiss him again. He’s fighting himself as I feel him tremble slightly and his grip on my waist only slightly tightens and I’m mildly upset.
“Move my hips on you, do something dammit.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters.
“I’ll tell you if you’ve hurt me by screaming in pain, what I need is friction- yes- holy shit-“ I cut myself off and notice just how big his package feels.
“Did I hurt you?” He stops.
“No, you just feel- huge. Oh my Eywa is it going to fit?” I ramble and he moves me back over his lap and I grunt.
“I pray it does.” He grunts before kissing down my neck once more. His hand trails up to untie my top and I pause.
“May I take this off?” He asks so sweetly and I bite my lip and nod. He pulls the fabric tying it together and it becomes loose, I slip out of it and he goes back to kissing me and I’m disappointed in his silence.
He smiles cockily when he comes up for air and I want to punch his face but he says the sweetest thing before I can form a fist.
“I’m the luckiest man on pandora.” He kisses down my chest and takes one nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue on my nipple.
“Ao’nung,” I moan as he pinches my other nipple.
“I like when you say my name like that.” He speaks directly to me, fully unashamed, and kisses my mouth.
His fingers trail down toward my ass, he cups my cheeks with his massive hands and kneads them, in the process he’s grinding me on his dick.
“Ao’nung-“ I moan again and try to push myself away from him but he takes my mouth into his and places the tip of his tongue in my mouth playfully stroking my own and I’m wet a hell from that action alone- and partly because of that juice.
“Yes, Yawne?”
“Take it off. Now.” I grunt and stand quickly without realizing his hand had already found the string and as I stood, my loincloth was untied and fell off.
“Yeah, luckiest man on Pandora.” He repeats his statement from earlier and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Have you ever-“ I stop myself from speaking and suddenly feel very self conscious.
“No.” He states fully and we both seem to be coming out of whatever the juice was doing to us- but only for a slight second.
“Have you?” He asks me and sits up.
“Never.” I admit and look away but feel my face being pulled back towards his in the gentlest way.
“We will learn with each other. We go as far as you want. I don’t want to pressure you to doing something you do not want.” He reassures me and kisses my lips again.
“So what now?” I asked him and he smiles.
“Lie down my sweet syulang.” He gently nudges me down and I follow his instructions. I can feel whatever flames were in my stomach before start to take over the nerves once again.
“Spread your legs.” He instructs and I follow and look up at the ceiling.
“Look at me, Yawne.” And I do. “You smell so sweet.”
“Wait, what are you-“ I ask before he licks a fat stripe on my pussy and I gasp.
He carefully wedges his tongue to spread my lips apart and I moan as he licks upward. He’s gently holding my thighs open but my hands felt empty. As if reading my mind his hands snake up to hold mine, the fists I once had were now warming up with his hands in them.
“Ao’nung rutxe, don’t st-ahh,” I’m the one letting his hands go and reach down toward his head and manage to tangle my fingers in there well enough to control his heads movements.
“You taste sweet, too.”
I now know why he’d held my thighs open earlier as I’m currently trying to suffocate him with them but the pleasure is too good and his tongue keeps circling on my clit and it all feels so good. And I feel something go in me at a gentle pace and the once building orgasm has muted as I feel it moving around.
“Ah-“ I open my eyes and look down to see he’s got one finger inside me and he’s staring me down. His finger stills but doesn’t pull out.
Does it hurt? He signs with his other hand
“N-no, just different, my fingers aren’t as thick as yours so this feels-“ I stop myself from rambling as he places a second finger in gently and I squeeze down hard.
“Ahh-“ I wince and try to withdraw but he stills my hips.
“Breathe, yawne. If I pull out now it could hurt worse, I will pull out if thats what you want but I’ve been told to tell you it gets better.”
“Told by who,”
“Is that really what you’re worried about?” He asks and I shake my head.
“It helps to forget the pain,”
“I can do that.” He immediately uses his thumb to circle my clit again and the pain subsides.
“Will it fit?” I ask again as his other hand is busy playing with my nipples.
“Yes.” He states but before I can ask if he’s sure he moves up to kiss me, and I just remembered how much bigger he was, yet he was being this gentle with me?
“Go faster my love,” I moan and connect out lips and start feeling pleasure from this experience. And he goes faster.
“Yes that spot, hit that again,” I clench my teeth at the overwhelming feeling I’m getting from his fingers and he smiles.
“Whatever you say, my love,” He smiles genuinely and it melts my heart. He leans down to kiss me again.
“Yes go faster, rutxe,”
“You don’t have to say that for me to go faster. You say and I’ll do. Always.” He says while going faster
“Kiss me.” And he kisses me.
“Again-“ He kisses me again.
“Mate with me,”
He unties his loincloth with one hand and slips out of it easily and the sight of his penis has my eyes widening. He tells me he’s going to slide his fingers out and does so but my eyes are on something else entirely.
“Theres blood on my fingers-“ He stares at his fingers in horror.
“Thats normal- for me.” I take his hand and hold it close to my chest. “On Earth, when you have sex for the first time, this happens. The custom- a long time ago- used to be to do this for the first time in your wedding night with the person you love.”
“It is a sign of loyalty?” Ao’nung questions and I nod.
“It’s like tsaheylu.”
“Then let us complete our custom.” He grabs his braid and brings it forward, his white tendrils moving in all directions.
“Are you certain?” I ask him and he smiles, giving me a peck real quick. He grabs my braid for me but before connecting looks me directly in my eyes.
“Are you certain?” He’s asking so sweetly while making sure our braids don’t connect.
“Yes.”
And the feeling itself is euphoric. My pupils are blown wide I’m sure, I could slightly feel them getting larger. I can feel how fast Ao’nung is breathing and can feel the strain of his cock as if the feeling were my own. I could feel how his heart was beating and the same warmth had settled over his own belly.
“Nga yawne lu oer,” Ao’nung states breathlessly.
“I love you, too.” I respond in english
It’s like he understood what I meant as he leans down to kiss me and manages to settle me in missionary. He lifts his head up and looks down between us and back up at me. I nod and feel him start to get nervous.
“It’s okay.” I place a hand on his cheek and gingerly stroke it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,”
“Have I screamed in pain at any point?” I ask and he smiles, kissing me again. He looks down between us and places his cock in his hands and guides it in slowly. I could feel my body clenching in anticipation and I shut my eyes harshly.
“Shit.” I grunt and squeeze harder when I feel the head sliding in slowly. The stretch burned real bad and at this point I stopped breathing.
“Breathe my love,” He gently strokes my clit after stopping just after his head had been pushed in.
“Ma’nung, you’re big.” I groan and throw my head back as the subtle sparks of him rubbing my clit start to fan the flames more.
“You’re so tight I might burst too soon.” He strains and I start to relax.
“Thats a compliment on Earth-“ I try to laugh and he slaps my thigh.
“Ahh!” I whine and he goes back to rubbing my clit and I moan immediately after.
“I’m going to keep pushing-“ He starts and as he does I can feel a sense of fullness but also his length dragging heavily on my g-spot and I moan.
“If you don’t move some more, I will cut your penis off.” I threaten and I can tell he’s confused by the sudden change of pace but I know he can feel what I feel.
“Shit, is that me?” He asks and I open my eyes to see him biting his lip, one of his fangs poking out, I look down myself and see a small bulge moving in my lower belly.
“Yes thats you-“ I moan as he’d started sliding out and his cock continues rubbing against my G-spot, it feels like the many orgasms I brought myself to happening all at once.
“Go faster-“ I whine and he does, snapping his hips at a steady pace and it feels so damn good.
“Faster-“ and he follows my command, not once questioning me.
“You’re swallowing me so easily, you feel so soft rubbing all over, and your stomach is- fuck-“ He cuts himself off and seems unsure of where to stare, at my pussy swallowing his cock or at my stomach as it plays peek-a-boo with him.
“Yawne, I’m too close-“
“I’m coming Ao’nung-“ I whine and feel myself spasm around his cock as I blubber on some stupid Na’Vi mixed with english non-sense.
Not once had he stopped thrusting his hips and the feeling of my orgasm continuously being stroked on had started what felt like the build of another one.
“Cock so good I’m coming twice-“ I groan in English and he starts whining himself. I never knew Na’vi men were vocal, and for some reason, the question can I come? Kept replaying in my head. Realizing I was still connected to Ao’nung I reach my hand up and pat his arm and he opens his eyes, lust evident on his face.
“You can come my love-“
The look of relief washed over his face but I could still feel like he was holding back. More of his thoughts flood my mind.
“Do it.” I confirm and he leans his whole body over mine, hitting spots I thought he was hitting before, quite literally fucking me so dumb I forgot my own name. His thrusts feel even more powerful at this angle and he bites the skin between my neck and my shoulder. His come washes over the both of us as I have my second orgasm and massage the spurts of come from his dick, coaxing more to come out with every wave of pleasure I felt. He lazily kisses me and pulls out, I hiss from the sting of his fat head stretching me open.
“Come here-“ Ao’nung quite literally lifts me to lay on his chest as we both catch our breath.
“I meant it.” He says while lazily stroking my back, but he didn’t have to explain, we were still connected, I already knew.
“I do too.” I sigh and lean into his chest to listen to his heart beat lulling me to sleep.
_________
I wake up and realize my body is being caged in but I felt warm and comfortable so I stayed snuggled up in what I thought was my blanket.
“Good, you’re awake.”
My eyes have never snapped open so quick after hearing that voice. His morning after voice was deep and sensual and it had me tingling. I look up to see that it was still dark.
“It’s not morning yet.” I groan and get comfortable again.
“Yes, my love, but I need some assistance.” He states as if he were straining and I turn my head to see him struggling with another boner.
“Oh my-“ I turn quickly. “- how long have you been dealing with that!” I asked and he whines.
“You’ve spent the entire time grinding me while you slept, I didn’t want to wake you, but we mate up to three times during one session.” He tries saying it in a nice way but I understood what he meant.
“Slide it in next time.”
“But you were sleeping.”
“I know, Ma’nung, but nothing better than waking up to an orgasm, or being loved on.” I stated while sliding one leg up, still laying sideways.
Ao’nung is hesitant, but we were still connected by our bond too. I was surprised.
“I forgot you have a fat head-“ I groan as he slides it in and gives me time to adjust but also feeling instant relief to be back inside me. The hand underneath my waist snakes over to rub my clit as he pumps pathetically inching in very slowly, but I could feel what he felt.
“Come inside my love-“ I moan as he comes inside for the second time tonight, letting him continue thrusting lazily while sliding across my G-spot.
“You feel so warm, so good, I can’t get enough.” He groans while continuing the same movement and I could feel him getting hard again.
“Is this why your mom is pregnant for the sixth time?” I asked and he ignores me but wraps his hands around my body, pulling me closer to him.
“Can I come again, my love?” He asks while his thrusts are becoming more powerful.
“How many more times can you come tonight?” I asked and start meeting his thrusts in the middle, feeling the familiar sensation about to snap in my belly.
“As many times as it takes to make you round with child, I can’t wait to see you waddle with my life inside of you-“
“Fill me to the brim,” I groaned as he continues thrusting while imagining myself pregnant with his children. But the mental images he was seeing began flashing in my mind and he wanted to fuck me while pregnant, pushing my body past its limits and taking me in every position.
“Come my love-“ He grunts in my ear and all I can do is squeeze around his cock and moan loudly.
_________
“You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?” He teases while thrusting in my cunt ever so slowly while he held me against the tree.
“No,” I try to stay quiet but he only slaps his big hand over my mouth.
He’d decided to fish on the docks today instead of following a hunting party and when he’d finish casting his third net full of fish he’d told the guys he was with that he’d be back in a few. I’d been picking seashells with his mom and sister when he called me away and lead me to where we were.
“You’re such a pathetic thing, Yawne,” He glides his dick over my G spot effortlessly and I’m a mess, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
“Eyes on me, my love, I want to see what I do to you.” He smiles cockily and I whine loud enough for him to hear.
“I want to come-“
“No.” He states firmly and slides his cock back in. “Be good for me and we’ll see if you deserve to come, my love.”
“Kiss me-“ I demand and he leans in, gently taking in the back of my neck and kissing me sweetly.
“G-go faster-“ I pant as he does and my eyes roll back.
“Come my love, come.” Ao’nung instructs me and I bite my lip as I release myself all over his cock.
“No don’t pull out,” I hold on to his hand tightly as if thats where I needed to hold him.
“We have to go back and-“
“I need you, Ma’nung,” I complain and he smirks.
“Of course, how could I have been so dumb,” He states and starts thrusting even faster.
“Ah!” I moaned and he slaps his hand over my mouth again.
“How can something so small be so loud?” He groans in my ear while he thrusts into me. My toes were curling as if they had a mind of their own and he was only holding me by my waist with one hand, he’s so fucking strong.
“How can someone so big be so big-“ I groan as he resorts to moving me up and down on his cock.
“I want to torture this orgasm out of you, my love. I want to make you the same babbling mess you were last night.” His voice was deeper and he was starting to grunt with every thrust. His hand came down from my mouth and stroked my clit lazily.
“Please let me come-“
“No.”
“Thats what you said earlier and you still let me-“ I whine and he forcefully grabs my cheeks to pull my face closer toward his.
“You cum when you only know my name and nothing else.”
I squeezed on him harder.
“You like when I’m rough with you, huh.” He places his hand on my chest and I grab it and place it on my neck without flinching and gently squeezes the sides and I could feel myself squeezing his cock once more.
“No, I w-wan- come.”
“Not dumb enough my love.”
_________
“Is anything off lim-limi- limits with y-you?” I asked as he thrusts under the water while his thick cock glides in and out of me.
“No. Never.” He groans before going faster. “You’ll be the death of me, now shut up and come.” He states while circling my clit.
“I don-don’t wanna-“ I whine but was to sensitive to hold on any longer.
“Yes you do, I can feel it. And not because we’re connected.”
_________
“Yawne please!” Ao’nung cries as I slide down further.
I’d mentioned riding once and he had been asking every single day if we could try it, but I wasn’t sure how feasable it would be, only because he’s huge and the thigh strength I’d need would need to come fro Eywa herself.
“This isn’t easy for me either!” I groan and completely slid down his cock and met his hips. Realization hits me as he hugs my body into his own.
“No you better not-“
“I’m coming~” He moans in my ear and it triggered my own orgasm.
_________
“Quiet my love.” Ao’nung shushes me.
“Please,” I beg and he thrusts harshly into me and I moan again.
“I love you-“ He states in English.
“Nga yawne lu oer-“ I whine back as he circles my clit with his thumb. He slams back in again.
“I like seeing you fucked dumb, my love.” He responds in English again and I’m going crazy.
“How bad do you want to come?” He asks in Na’vi and I can’t comprehend the question at all and babble some nonsense.
“I need you to come, sweet girl.” He coo’s and covers my mouth to muffle my sounds with his own in a deep heated kiss.
“Thats it, my love,” He coo’s as he joins me, still managing to gently caress my cheeks at his highest point of euphoria.
_________
“Have you told her it was an aphrodisiac?” Neytiri asks and Lo’ak rolls his eyes.
“Yes Ma’am.” He replies.
“Good.” Ronal states while working on cutting the fruit she had.
“Was this necessary?” Tsireya asks while sneaking a couple of the fruit pieces for herself since she was expecting.
“All the necessary, my sweet girl.” Ronal stated to her daughter.
“If not for that small lie they would not be sneaking around horribly and procreating like they are.” Neytiri points out.
“They’re sneaking around in public and doing that?” Taireya’s eyes widen In shock and Lo’ak laughs.
“Of course they are. Just the other day, Ao’nung said he couldn’t come hunting because he had to pick some tulip thorns from the tree’s for her. They grow in the ground.”
Ronal laughs at this too and shakes her head.
“Maybe she will become pregnant soon like us.” Kiri happily continues creating medicine or saves from the peels of the fruit.
“Human male and Hybrid Na’vi can procreate. Lets see if Na’vi nale and hybrid Na’vi can do the same.” Ronal smiles.
“I believe they can. Our world is changing.” Neytiri comments.
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suashii · 4 months
Text
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐵𝒪𝒴𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟'𝒮 𝐵𝐸𝒮𝒯 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟
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info ⭑ geto suguru x f!reader x gojo satoru. 2k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ノ non-canon compliant ノ established relationship between reader and gojo ノ assumed cheating ノ moral dilemmas ノ sexual implications ノ ambiguous ending 
note ⭑ this is a LOT of build up lol but thank u if u see past that and give it a read anyway!
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“oh my god, baby, you will not believe the day i—oh.” you stop mid-rant when you realize the body sitting on the couch is not your boyfriend. you were so ahead of yourself that you didn’t even think about making sure you were talking to the right person when you walked through the door. to make things worse, it’s geto. “um. hello.”
“hey there.” he offers you a lazy wave and a smile. actually, the curl of his lips resembles more of a smirk.
you linger in the doorway, taking an unusually long amount of time to slip out of your shoes, neatly adjust them, and trade them in for slippers. a tense silence fills the air as you do so. it’s almost suffocating and you can barely bring yourself to drag your eyes away from the floor. though, you think it’ll be even more awkward if you don’t speak, so, you clear your throat before asking, “is satoru here?”
“he’ll be back soon,” geto tells you, setting his phone on the arm of the couch to lend you his undivided attention. you wish he wouldn’t—being the object of his stare makes your skin prick with goosebumps. under his gaze, you feel like prey being watched by a predator. “he just stepped out to that dessert shop down the street.”
sounds plausible, but you hate when he does this—leaves you alone with his best friend. geto doesn’t make you uncomfortable, per se, but the air, the environment, feels thick and strange when it’s just the two of you. you’ve yet to put your finger on why that is.
you nod slowly, chewing the inside of your cheek as you tentatively make your way to the living room. you set your backpack on the floor and plop down between the couch and coffee table, as far away from geto as possible. you pull out your laptop and start opening your notes, never turning around to ask,  “you don’t mind if i study out here, do you? i’ll fall asleep if i try to in bed.”
cute, geto thinks. with your back to him, you can’t see the way he’s smiling at you. it’s not the same smirk from earlier but it isn’t innocent either. “go ahead. it’s your place after all.”
“right,” you awkwardly laugh, your pointer finger aimlessly dragging the cursor across your screen.
a strained silence blankets the room. it should be better this way; you can focus on studying and you don’t have to hold a conversation with geto, but something about the quiet is more uncomfortable than talking to him. knowing he’s here but not knowing what he’s thinking or doing puts you on edge. you’ve never been more distracted by someone’s mere presence.
you’re starting to wonder if you should have just holed up in your room when the couch creaks, alerting you of geto’s movement. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at his departure. your relief is short-lived, however, because—unbeknownst to you—geto doesn’t leave, he only situates himself behind you.
you aren’t aware of his newfound proximity until you feel his hands come to rest on your shoulders. the contact makes you jump, your shoulders reaching for your ears. you’re tempted to turn around and face him but there’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that it might be a bad idea. instead, you find your voice to ask, “w-what’re you doing?”
you swear you hear a soft chuckle from behind you as geto’s fingers begin to knead your shoulder blades. the sensation is familiar and if you forgot whose hands were doing the work, you’d let yourself melt into the touch. though, the voice that fills the air is a reminder that the man sitting behind you isn’t your boyfriend. “satoru usually does this when you’re stressed and you seem… tense.”
he isn’t wrong, but the uneasiness you’re experiencing is attributed to one thing, one person, only—geto suguru. his hands feel nice and that much feels wrong. he should stop, right?
“well, you don’t have to—” an unexpected moan cuts your sentence short. it takes a moment for you to accept that the noise that rung through the air was yours. you really can’t look at him now. you clear your throat before speaking up again, more quietly this time. “you don’t have to do that.”
“okay.” and with that word, he stops. the weight, the warmth, of his hands is gone. you weren’t supposed to miss the feeling, so why do you find yourself longing for it? 
you still have yet to peer up at geto but the man doesn’t need to see your eyes to know what’s going through your head. your moan was a loud enough message for him. he can’t believe it, but it sounds like gojo’s sneaking suspicion was right. though, geto’s willing to test the waters to be sure. he scoots over and pats the cushion he had just been occupying. “at least get up on the couch. satoru will kill me if he walks in and sees you sitting on the floor.”
alarm bells blare in your head at the invitation but you know he’s right about gojo. your boyfriend should be back any minute now so you suppose there’s no harm in sitting beside geto until then. you uncross your legs and stand up to get comfortable on the couch.
there’s a pair of eyes watching your every move and you can’t help the way your own flit over to meet them. sure enough, onyx irises are honed in on you. it’s difficult to hold his gaze so you offer him a quick smile before turning away. you’re reaching out to grab your laptop when geto’s voice, or rather, his declaration, stops you in your tracks.
“you know, you’re really cute when you try to hide how much you like me.”
after your initial pause, you look at him again. “i don’t do that.”
for a split second, you swear you see his eyebrows raise. as quickly as you see it, it’s gone, replaced by yet another grin. “what?”
“nothing” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “just that you didn’t deny the whole liking me part.”
your heart skips a beat at the realization that you never rejected his claim and it speeds up when you recognize that it might be the reason you’re always so nervous, fidgety, in his presence.
no, that can’t be it. you’re in love with gojo, you can’t have feelings for his best friend. what kind of sorry excuse of a girlfriend would that make you? there’s got to be something else that can explain—
“don’t worry, it’s okay.” his reassurance couldn’t have come at a worse time—when you’re trying to convince yourself what he said isn’t true. and he seems keen on making this even harder with his next admission. “because i like you, too.”
for the first time all day, your eyes meet his and you’re able to keep them there. your lips part in surprise and you’re sure the emotion is reflected in your stare. he can’t really mean that. he’s definitely messing with you… right?
geto seems to have stunned you to silence. he thinks that’s cute, too, how little it takes to fluster you. and it looks good on you, so much so that he’s even more eager to go through with his plan. he inches towards you before letting his hand rest on your knee. you don’t jump like you had earlier. “do you wanna hear the things i’ve thought about you?”
the scene playing out before you feels like a fever dream with how bizarre things are unfolding. and it must be because how else would you explain the subtle nod of your head at geto’s offer?
your agreement comes as a pleasant surprise to the man and he’s quick to continue before you take it back. “i think about how timid you are when it’s just the two of us and wonder if you’d be the same way with my hands exploring your skin.”
as if to emphasize his words, he drags his fingers from your knee to the middle of your thigh where the hem of your skirt sits. the movement is agonizingly slow and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, but geto never takes his eyes off of yours.
“and that moan of yours,” your cheeks and the tips of your ears heat up at the reminder, “i’ve thought of that, too—if you’d make such pretty sounds when i’m touching you like this.”
geto squeezes your thigh, firm but not painful. the gesture elicits another whimper from you, though, it’s muffled this time around.
“i guess you do, huh?” he rubs a hand over your leg, his lips curling up into a smirk. his touch doesn’t linger for long as the calloused hand on your thigh rises and makes its way up to your face. his hand hovers over your cheeks before cradling the side of your face, thumb running along your lower lip.
“but most of all,” he starts, leaning in closer, “i’ve wondered what these lips would taste like on my tongue.”
there’s a jolt in your tummy that sends arousal between your legs. you rub your legs together for some friction—some relief—but it isn’t nearly enough. you need something more—thick fingers or a hard cock. the direction your mind goes causes your lips to part.
geto’s tongue runs along his lips upon seeing yours separate. he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s looking forward to—like he’s two seconds away from devouring you. still, he courteously asks, “are you gonna let me find out?”
“i can’t,” you whisper. “satoru—”
he leans in even closer, only a hair’s breadth away from your mouth. his breath mingles with yours with his next whispered words. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”
each thud of your heart against your ribs is audible in your ears, like the rhythmic bang of a drum. it must be loud enough for geto to hear, too. it’s drowning out the voice of reason urging you to do anything but lean forward and press your lips against his. 
you don’t listen to its pleas.
the sensation of geto’s pillowy lips only lasts for a moment as yours brush against his. the brief contact sends a surge of electricity beneath your skin that you feel throughout your entire body. geto dips his head down for a deeper kiss when the click of the door opening hits your ears.
you freeze like a deer in headlights at the noise, not daring to turn around. geto doesn’t look nearly as alarmed as you, in fact, the expression he wears is one that makes it seem as though he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. there’s no visible sign of guilt behind his eyes. 
he greets the man at the door easily. “hey, man.”
the rustling of plastic sounds in the air before gojo replies. “did she do it?”
your heart jumps at the mention of you. do what?
“just barely,” geto tells him, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips. “you seriously have the worst timing. she probably would have let me stick my tongue down her throat if you had taken another minute.”
the horrifying fact makes you fist the fabric of your skirt. the burning of your skin is back but it isn’t arousal this time around—it’s shame and embarrassment. how are you supposed to look at your boyfriend now that you’ve kissed his best friend?
heavy footsteps warn you of gojo’s approach. you’re desperately trying to come up with an explanation when he kneels down in front of you. his eyes are like magnets, forcing your gaze to meet his. dark glasses hold his light hair back like a headband, preventing the snowy strands from hiding his clear blue irises. you can’t read him.
“did you like it?”
“what?” your voice is weak. you can barely hear it.
“it felt nice, right?” he asks with a smile. it’s genuine, too, like he really wants to hear that you enjoyed taking part in your naughty deed. “you want more, don’t you?”
his questions aren’t accusatory the way you expected them to be. he doesn’t sound upset or angry the way he should. you spare a glance over to geto. there’s a look in his eyes, one that you’ve seen gojo wear plenty of times—one that means he’s hungry.
it’s only then that you realize what’s going on. this wasn’t some elaborate stunt to find out whether or not you’d be faithful to your boyfriend, it was a strategy to see how you feel about geto and it seems as though their findings have been promising if their reactions are any evidence.
maybe you can give in to your disgraceful attraction to your boyfriend’s best friend.
you turn to face gojo once more, pulling your lip between your teeth and nodding in response to his questions.
gojo breathes out a short laugh before tilting his head and letting his eyes shift over to geto. “see, suguru, i told you she’d be into it.”
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hey there, it's manz! now that you've read the whole fic, i can tell you where i was going with the ending :3 so, in my mind, this was a ton of build up to a threesome. not sure if it came across that way, but yeah! although, if you'd like to think of it more as a "gojo letting geto have sex with you" kind of thing, that's cool too!
thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
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arminsumi · 7 months
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AFTERCARE WITH EREN.
𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 — エレン⋅ gn reader
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NOTE: when was the last time i wrote for my fav genocidal maniac 🤭💀 kidding. fun fact i started writing online because i had it bad for eren lol. anyways i have one of these coming for gojo 👍 and maybe others!! bc i love aftercare and crave more stuff centered around it, if u have any good aftercare post recs send em to my inbox thank uuu!!
🔞 mdni / mdnr / 18+ content
SUMMARY — just gentle/caring bf Eren cleaning you up after rearranging your guts 😇
WARNINGS — implied/mentioned smut, n.sfw, implied smut contents; light roughplay (?), against the wall, condoms used 👍, spanking/hairpulling, very small and brief "daddy", he calls u baby, i think it's gn reader? lmk if there's something that's not gn thank u
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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He pulls his sweatpants up and discards his condom. You slump against the wall and slide down it, moments earlier you were just being fucked against that very wall by your boyfriend. His hands and dirty talk may have a tender touch, but his cock sure doesn't; it rearranges your whole perspective on reality, you feel so shaky after a good session.
"Erennn." you call out his name, "help me up."
"Pretty baby. Did I go too hard on you?" he asks worriedly.
"A little bit. But I liked it." you smile with a tired, satisfied look.
He gives you an almost pitiful head tilt. "C'mere — hold onto me. Lock those legs 'round my waist baby, there we go."
Of course Eren can't refrain from planting a light tap to your ass while he carries you to the bathroom of his little apartment. You still feel the numb sting of all that spanking, and a vague tingle across your scalp from when he pulled your hair when he came so hard.
"You good baby?" he asks in a gentle murmur. "You spaced out."
He's set you down on the sink counter top, slowly cleaning up your between your thighs, tentatively pecking your ears and cheeks. You almost laugh. Is this really the same boy that just fucked you standing against the wall and made you scream daddy loud enough to wake the neighborhood?
"I'm fine, 'just fucked me too good." you murmur back at him.
He has a very slight smile adorning his features. "Need a rest, huh?" he teases.
"Yes, please. Let's nap."
"Nah, you nap, I'm gonna go get us food. Wait for me."
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ymiwritesstuff · 2 months
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Not really smutty (though it could lead into it) but how about tav helping halsin brush and braid his hair? This man deserves to be pampered and have someone care for him as much as he does for everyone else
WOWOWOWOWOW I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! This was so much fun to write thank you Anon!! I hope this turned out the way you were hoping!! Halsin deserves all the pampering!!! Enjoy!
A Moment Together
Baldur's Gate 3
Halsin x Tav!Reader
Summary: After a long day of hard work and battle, you and Halsin decide to spend the remaining hours of the day in each other's company during which you are eager to make sure he feels as relaxed as possible.
Notes: Fluff (so much that it's disgusting lol), hair brushing, no spoilers, just good vibes :)
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“Alright, that should be enough.”
The heavy pieces of firewood you had spent almost the entirety of the day gathering fell on the ground with a loud thud, the positive exclamations of gratitude from the others soon following. It was always a rather tedious task, but it proved to be one of the most rewarding. No one could sleep or relax after a hard day in the coldness of the night unless you happened to have an infernal engine for a heart. Karlach was lucky in that aspect, you thought.
The sun still peaked through the thick trees of the forest, though it would not take long until it would retreat behind the horizon. Looking around the camp, everyone seemed just about ready to shed the weight and responsibilities of working to find a solution to your parasite issue and enjoy some much needed rest. The tents were put up, the bedrolls were set around the campfire and the heavy pieces of gear and armor were abandoned in favor of something more comfortable.
You ought to do the same soon.
However, your mind soon wandered when a certain druid entered your vision. A smile crept up to your lips. You were reminded of something you had said earlier in the day, a promise of a moment for just the two of you. Halsin was quick to relax his gaze as he looked over the camp and noticed how everyone seemed content. Should there have been an issue, he would have most likely been the first one to volunteer and offer his help, being the kindhearted druid he was. The thought only made you smile more.
As soon as his eyes found you, you were quick to point to the edge of the camp with a tilt of your head, your feet slowly carrying towards the direction. You were inviting him for a stroll, as you had discussed previously, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten, as he quickly followed you.
The camp slowly disappeared behind you and once it did, Halsin was quick to intertwine his large hand with yours, a gesture he often did when you shared a moment together. You were sure the rest of the camp was privy to the way you two shared glances, some of them were rather… perceptive, and secrecy wasn’t something either of you desired. Perhaps it merely felt more natural when there weren’t others present. Halsin certainly seemed more at ease like this.
“You seemed quite busy today,” you commented, remembering how you hadn’t seen him much all day. It was not terribly unusual, but to say you did not miss him would be a lie. He hummed.
“There was a shortage of potions and other healing items. So I made a longer journey to find a merchant.” You nodded as you listened, but also frowned your brows.
“We do have you and Shadowheart with us…” If you were honest, you were not sure why spend the effort to gather potions when your group consisted of more than one healer. Your thoughtful muttering reached his pointed ears and he was quick to let out a hearty chuckle.
“That may be so. But it does not hurt to be resourceful. We do journey separately at times, after all.”
“That’s true.”
You could not help but smile. Halsin had always been looking over everyone, making sure to offer his help whenever it may have been needed. His kindness was admirable, and in truth, it was needed during times like these.
You continued to walk by his side, his larger stature perfectly framed by the setting sun that continued to seep through the branches and leaves. To not look at him would have been a crime, so you allowed your eyes to wander, taking in his utter beauty as you walked. He had a small but fulfilled smile upon his lips, and his eyes idly looked around ever so slightly, marveling at the grace of nature.
The journey led you two to a gentle stream that flowed through the forest. The water was crystal clear and the warm colors of the sun were reflected on the calmly moving surface beautifully. You were sure this same stream spread into the vast lake just next to your camp. 
Giving glances at each other, the silent decision was made to rest here and unwind after yet another long day, maybe even fall asleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and Halsin always made sure to keep you warmer in ways a mere campfire never could.
You carefully sat down on the ground, Halsin keeping your hand in his until you were fully seated. He then laid down, placing his weary head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart swell. The habit of his was incredibly endearing, there was just something about this druid, built like the most durable stone wall, gently lying beneath you at the mercy of your touch.
Smiling at him, your hands immediately went to his hair, pulling it back until all of it pooled in your lap. Tilting your head, you looked at his locks, noticing how they had some woodchips and tangles in them. Not a rare sight, quite natural, even. But you frowned, though playfully.
“Shall I brush it?” You asked, making sure to not pull on the knots with your fingers. A small chuckle left his lips.
“I have my doubts you’ll let me get up if I do not accept.” The sarcasm in his tone was obvious, it made you scoff jokingly.
“Of course not. What would the others think?” You sighed and groaned dramatically. “Imagine how horrified Astarion would be!”
Halsin laughed, that pleasant sound ringing in your ears long after he stopped. His laugh was contagious, so you briefly joined him, while reaching for your pocket and pulling out a comb. You looked down at him again.
“Well, what say you?” Your smirk was once again jesting, but his smile was genuine.
“Go right ahead, my heart.”
Smiling, you carefully began running the comb through his hair, noting how he let out a deep breath at the sensation. Brushing his hair had become somewhat of a regular activity, you did it for him every time you could. He enjoyed it. To be surrounded by nature and touched by you so attentively, he could not even begin to think about any better way to forget about the harshness of reality that affected everyone.
You had always thought that Halsin was far too considerate for his own good. He often put himself before others, especially with you. Though it was an incredibly valuable trait, it often left you wondering if anyone ever did anything for him. That’s why you helped him whenever you could, that’s why you held his hands and asked if he needed anything, that’s why you brushed his hair.
Halsin’s breathing was calm and paired with the gentle trickle of the stream as the sun slowly set, you felt like all the horrid things that happened around you did not exist, even if it was for a brief moment. 
His hair was mostly rid of its previous debris and the comb flowed through it effortlessly. You were more or less done but felt like something was missing. Placing the comb down, you ran your fingers through his locks, marveling at the length. His long hair was always open, flowing freely in the wind. As nature intended, you thought.
You took a brief look at him. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but you doubted this was the case. Regardless, he looked peaceful and you felt a wave of satisfaction hit you. It would be a lie to claim that it didn’t feel rewarding to see this druid, so concerned for everyone else and working tirelessly to ensure safety among everyone, at ease and utterly relaxed.
Gathering his hair into your hands, you sectioned it and began interweaving them. Halsin surely felt it, as his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. You had never done this before.
“Trust the process,” you said to which he gave a humorous hum. His hand rested on his abdomen and he took a deep breath, simply enjoying the way your fingers touched and gently tugged his brown hair.
As you reached the end of the braid, you looked for something to tie it with. You spotted a flower, white petals practically glowing in the moonlight. It had already been plucked from the ground, so you did not feel bad for reusing it for the greater good. You took a small piece from the base of the stem and used it to tie the end of the braid, to ensure that it would stay put.
You looked at your work and Halsin seemed to sense that you were done, as he slowly stood up, and turned to you. And as you looked at him, you could not stop the heat that spread across your cheek.
The loose braid rested upon his broad shoulder and his large frame was illuminated by the moon, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. His fingers brushed along the braid, there was some surprise in his expression, but it quickly melted away when he noticed how you looked at him.
“I suppose I can compete with Astarion now?” Halsin chuckled as he spoke to which you couldn’t contain a smile.
“Well, almost.” Your hand reached for the flower you had used to tie his hair with and you scooted closer to him, lifting yourself so your eyes were on the same level. Even when sitting down, he towered over you. Carefully, you brushed some of his hair that framed his face behind his ear, the flower following soon after. It came to rest against his ear, giving him a look that seemed to blow you away.
You retreated from him, grinning on the outside, but screaming and squealing inside at how incredibly beautiful he looked.
“Now I’d say you have a chance.”
Halsin pulled you to him as you both laughed, holding you close. He was warm, he always was. You pulled away to look at him, the affectionate sparkle in his hazel eyes warming your heart.
“Thank you, my heart. You… Do so much for me.”
If only he realized. This was nothing compared to what he did not only for you but for everyone. You smiled for what felt like the thousandth time and kissed him, keeping your hands on the sides of his face. The night had fallen, and all possible thoughts of returning to the others faded away. Tonight, you would sleep under the stars, dozing off to the soothing sounds of the stream with him next to you before repeating the grueling routine of the day all over again.
But it felt worth it. For moments like these, you’d do anything.
~
Feel free to support me on ko-fi!❤️
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periprose · 8 months
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Okay I gotta request something JUST HEAR ME OUT
Black Cat!Reader trying to tell Tasm!Peter she's Black Cat while he tries to tell her that he's Spider-Man at the same time. Queue up Peter being baffled, while reader just doesn't believe him lol
Also I am loving Florence, it's so good and rich, I'm still only on chapter three but I want to kiss your Peter senseless- he's such a sweetheart🫶 Also I love youuu🥰
AHHH bby i love this idea and I love you!! (also thanks for the support on florence)
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Secrets are difficult to reveal.
They're especially terrible when you're telling something so tumultuous to your best friend, something that could either make him judge you severely or run away from you.
How do you confess that you're a thief? An villain turned anti-hero?
Even worse, Peter is someone you really love. Someone you know is too good for you- he would never feel the same way. But that's why you have Spider-Man, right?
You always knew it wasn't always going to be fun and games to be Black Cat. To be the very symbol of bad luck- it's a bad premonition.
You stare in the mirror. Peter will be here any second- he always climbs up the fire escape into your apartment's bedroom, and you told him you had something important to say.
There's a knock at your window, and you turn a little too abruptly.
Peter watches from the outside. He has a tentative smile, but he can see that you're worried, and you make the conscious effort to relax your face.
Peter himself is worried. He's about to confess something very important to someone very near and dear to him- he's Spider-Man, and not just that- he's having a sort-of affair with Black Cat.
He doesn't even know how it happened. First she was stealing wealth from banks, then a few months later she came with him with the notion to be good, and Peter always believes in someone redeeming themselves... but that doesn't mean she had to be so goddamn hot, all black leather and white fur, and Peter's just a horny dude who could not help but kiss back when she made a move on him yesterday.
And it was hot, it was good for him to take out some very human emotions by making out with her, but it wasn't everything. It wasn't you, and now he feels incredibly guilty. So he wants to come clean. Peter wants to let you know the whole truth, and even if that means you'll never like him again- Peter will never act on his unspoken feelings for you- he knows you deserve to know.
"Hey." You let Peter in, and he immediately walks in with an air of anxiety, hands already shaking as he paces around. "You good?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah." Peter shakes his head immediately. "No, not really. We need to talk."
"Oh." You give him a look as you sit on your bed. "You have something to say, too?"
Peter nods, and you think it can't be nearly as bad as what you're going to tell him.
"Okay. Let me go first- I've been hiding something from you." He starts, but you shake your head. "I haven't been around."
"I haven't been around, Peter." You tilt your head at him. "I... I haven't been telling you the truth."
"Just wait. I'm trying to tell you something important." Peter insists, wanting you to know the truth but you keep going.
"I'm a bad person, Peter." You murmur, and Peter stops, interest piqued. "I've been misusing our friendship- you wouldn't want to be friends if you knew my past."
"No. That's not true." Peter sits down next to you on your bed, feeling that he should comfort you before potentially breaking your heart. "I'll always be your friend. Tell me what's going on."
"Don't sound so sure." You grimace at him. "I... I'm Black Cat."
"Huh?"
"I know, it's so terrible. I stopped with all the stealing and killing, but... I'm still not sure if my so-called good deeds are enough to forgive me." You lean over your legs. "I don't... I work with Spider-Man every now and then, too."
"But-" Peter tries to interject, and you keep going anyways. He's incredibly baffled- it's not that you don't match the size of Black Cat, it's just that he's sure he would've recognized your mouth under her mask. He's fantasized about your lips long enough.
"He kissed me yesterday." You admit, and for some reason it feels like a slap in the face to say, even if you know that Peter doesn't actually like you like that. "And I've always liked you, Peter, so I just have to get this off my chest, because I feel so terrible. I'm sorry."
Peter is snickering.
"What?" You shove him. "I'm trying to tell you about my actual, serious pain, Peter, and you're just laughing-"
He loves this. He can actually be with you, no questions asked, and you have to be Black Cat- who else would know that Spider-Man kissed you? Peter feels a little bad that you're clearly agonized about it still, and he is laughing, but he can't help it.
"I was trying to tell you the same thing." Peter shrugs, as you hang onto his every word. "Okay, not the same thing. But that I'm Spider-Man."
You raise your eyebrows. "Really?"
"What do you mean, really? What's so shocking?" Peter asks, somewhat affronted, still finding it funny. "Do I not look like I have Spider-Man's build?"
"No, no. It just... feels a little too convenient." You give him a pitiful glance. "Maybe you could prove it?"
"Wow." Peter shakes his head, stifling a small smile. "Why would I lie?"
"No, Peter, it's not that you would lie. It's just... it's too obvious of a happy ending for me, and I-" You wince. "I don't normally have those."
"Oh." Peter knows about your past, your unhappy origin story, and he doesn't want to say anything to negate that truth.
So he simply thwips out a web towards your desk, planting your water bottle against the wall, and you don't look too surprised, although you do inhale.
"So that means- I was working with- and you-" You try to make a coherent sentence. "We... we kissed?"
"Tell me if this feels the same." Peter murmurs, half jokingly, mostly serious, and he pulls your face up in the same way you remember he did yesterday.
Knowing that you were the one in that leather black suit with the white trimming stirs something more inside him- yeah, he loves you and he's so glad to have you here now- but it makes yesterday even hotter in hindsight.
No mask this time. Nothing to get in the way of you dragging your fingers through Peter's hair as he presses his lips against yours, not hesitant at all. His lips are firm, plying against yours, and he inhales in a way that screams that he's wanted to do this for a while- even if he kissed you a few days ago, it wasn't like this- and it has you understanding he doesn't want to be gentle. He wants to finish what he started.
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onskepa · 9 months
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Halo Hello Halo! I hope you are having a mighty fine day/night!
I hope this is alright but could I request a neteyam x avatar,na'vi! Reader?
Basically the reader is pregnant with what's supposed to be their first born. However, fate would have it that y/n would give birth to triplets! A never before heard of phenomena, due to na'vi usually having children one at a time and even then twins were a very rare event to occur!
I dunno I just like the idea of reader giving birth to triplets much to the sully family's surprise. Plus I couldn't help but think of how funny it would be for neteyam to be pacing outside the door for hours and the almost faint when finds out he doesn't just have one or two babies, but three!
Hellooooooooo!! once I read your request I KNEW the pic for it! sorry it took a bit to make it but I hope you enjoy!
Syawn series
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Syawn
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[had to lol]
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It was night when the moment arrived. All of the Omatikaya gathered near the tent of the Tsahik as they prey for the woman who is about to be a mother. Loud screams echoed the forest, all the mother's recognize those screams. Screams of pain and love.
In the tent mo'at, neytiri, kiri and tuk were aiding in the labor of the woman whom goes by the loving name Syawn, a name called with love.
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Syawn was about to bring her child to the world of pandora. But by Eywa it hurts!
Tuk does her best by holding Syawn's hand as means to reassure her and give her the push to keep going. But tuk can only do so much.
"mama she is gonna break my hand...!!!!" she squeaks in pain. Small tears ready to fall from her eyes. But her pleas and begging were tuned out by the screaming woman beside her.
Mo'at and kiri were very concerned. Yes it is normal for the women to scream and cry during the birthing process, but Sywan's screams were louder, more painful. Of all the years assisting mother's to birth, they know the difference in the screams and cries. This one was different. Not terrible, but also not good.
On the outside of the tent, Jake and lo'ak were doing their best to keep neteyam calm. As calm one can get as they hear their mates cries.
"bro you are going to make me dizzy just seeing you walking like that" lo'ak groans. Neteyam was walking back and forth to no end as he was lost in this thoughts.
"I can see a ditch being created" jake says as he tries to make light of things. "You're not making things any better" neteyam remarks, huffing and feeling tense.
His mate's screams seems to no end, the urge to go in there and hold her hand, whisper in her ear, to try anything to ease her pain. He understand labor is a difficult thing a mother must go through as means to bring life into the world. He has heard his own mother screams as she births his siblings.
Jake having enough, he gets up from where he was sitting and grabs neteyam by the shoulders, looking at him eye to eye. "I know what you are feeling. I was there. I know you want to be with her, comfort her and want to take away her pain. Believe me son, I know. But your grandmother and sister knows what they are doing. They have done the same process many times. If it will make you feel better, why not go to the spirit tree?" he offers.
Neteyam didnt felt any better but knows his father speaks from his good heart. He was about to respond when the screams stopped. Silence all around now.
Fear and panic washed over neteyam. Fearing the worst, he runs towards the tend when tuk ran out, a big smile on her face.
"they are born!! they are here!!" she grabs her brothers hand and drags him into the tent.
He enters, the first thing he sees is his mate sleeping peacefully, exhausted from the process. He softly places a kiss on her nose, doing a small payer to Eywa that she had made it through. After making sure she is ok, he turns to his left.
And there, in a soft lighting from the lantern, shows mo'at, neytiri and kiri each holding one baby in their arms.
It wasnt one, nor two, but three na'vi babies. All small and very cute.
Mo'at looked at her newly born great grandchildren rather in shock and disbelief. Birthing one single child is common, twins is a extreme rarity, but three children at once? Impossible. A true blessing given by great mother Eywa.
Neytiri was also in shock but happy. Jake has explained he was a twin himself, that he had another half of himself. She understood she would have mostly likely birth twins. But it never happened.
To see three na'vi babies born at the same time, she felt lucky to witness such a scene. Possibly something that would only ever happen once.
Kiri was way too happy. Such a phenomenon right before her eyes! No doubt Eywa has blessed her sister to be this fertile. A wonderful gift to have.
The three children were exactly identical. Little tuffs of hair, shining bioluminescent dots decorated on their small little bodies, small hands and feet, their tails curled to their sides, making small noises. Cute ears pinned back, little round but definitely ears of na'vi.
Neteyam was shocked beyond words, lo'ak and jake enter to feel the same way.
"Well I be damned...." jake muttered.
Lo'ak chuckled in disblief. "Three? how is that even possible?"
"its not...this has never happened" mo'at replies.
Jake huffs a bit, smiling to see his first grandchildren. "I bet you are feeling excited aren't you neteyam?"
THUMP!!
Everyone turns to see neteyam passed out flat on the floor.
"neteyam?"
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Ngl, I low-key want to make a part 2 to this. Whatchu guys think? lemme know! Hope yall enjoyed!
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Syawn = blessing.
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leighsartworks216 · 5 months
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request if you feel like it:
i've been thinking a lot about astarion coming up with some unique pet name(unique as in not on his usual list of what he calls everyone) for tav and their brain just short-circuiting a little when they first hear it
“another (again no pressure): tav writing a song about astarion? or them absent-mindedly playing something that was inspired by him? and his reaction to that”
I assume these were both by you, anon lol I combined them because I felt like they worked really well off each other
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Warnings: references to sex, anxiety
Word Count: 989
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As a bard, you were no stranger to performing for audiences and putting on a good show. Smiling and going on with the show in spite of the stage fright. You’d rubbed elbows with nobles and sung ballads to their wives - you shouldn’t be as anxious as you are.
And yet, as you sit Astarion down on a pillow within your tent and pick up your lute, your fingers shake and you feel short of breath. Even when you sit down across from him, you cannot seem to settle down. You performed this a hundred times by now to make sure it was absolutely perfect, but it felt like your fingers had never held an instrument before, and like your voice was entirely gone.
Cold fingers brush your knee. He looks worried. “Are you alright, darling?”
You nod despite the forced smile you put on. “Yup! Never better! I just, uhm,” you reach over for your journal and hurriedly flip through the pages, “need to make sure I’ve got this right.”
Your eyes read the notes and lyrics over and over and over, but process none of it. You try to jumpstart your brain by placing your fingers over the frets, but your nail catches a string and makes a rather terrible noise. You both wince. Astarion leans forward and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“Darling, breathe. Imagine I’m just another drunk tavern patron.”
You huff a nervous laugh. “It’s hard when all I see is the man I love.”
He smirks, but the softness of his eyes ruin the illusion. He pulls you forward and meets you halfway to place a kiss on your forehead. “Breathe. I won’t laugh if you mess up.”
“Liar.”
“I won’t laugh excessively if you mess up.”
He pulls away, stroking your cheek with his thumb before he pulls away and leans back on his arms. He’s so open and inviting like this. You want to toss your lute aside and crawl into his lap, bombarding him with hugs. But, you need to share this with him first.
You close your eyes. You imagine you’re just in some dingy inn, playing for scraps and discounted rooms. This song is just like any other you’ve written. The notes are at your fingertips, ready to be released. You breathe in, imagine the song in your mind, and breathe out. You’ve got this.
You avoid looking at him as you close your journal and set it aside - you fear doing so would ruin the illusion you’ve painted for yourself. Your fingers glide smoothly along the strings, as familiar as a lover’s caress, and settle on the first chord. The words climb up your throat, lining up, ready to leap out. You try not to choke on them. You close your eyes again and start to play.
You spent countless nights composing it. Ever since you chanced upon him looking in the mirror and he’d called your descriptions of him “poetry”. To you, poetry was one in the same with the flattery he so desired. Maybe he understood that now, now that you were together. And that is exactly what this song was for.
You sang about his eyes, his hair, his smile, his hands - preening him and his apparent beauty. But you sang about his heart, too. The tenderness he shared in quiet moments, the way he sought your hand out by hesitantly brushing his pinky against yours, the delicate way he peppered your neck with kisses before he bit down as gently as possible. You poured your heart into every note, into every word. You meant every single one.
The last note fluttered into the air, and in the void it left behind came your anxiety. You were scared to open your eyes. To lose this moment would destroy you. If he hated it… Gods, you didn’t know what you’d do.
Cold hands hold your face again, but before you can open your eyes, his lips are on yours. He kisses you with a burning passion. Gratitude and love and a million more emotions, all vying to be expressed in this one act, like he can’t leave them to fester in his chest any longer. When the kiss slows, when he can bear the weight of the remaining feelings, he pulls away so gently. You pant to catch your breath, and you can feel it fanning against his skin and back at you from his proximity.
“My wonderful little song bird,” he hums. Your eyes shoot open to stare at him. He can feel your pulse as your heart skips a beat, soaring with the new pet name. He pecks your lips again briefly. “Only you would take my words and turn them against me in song.”
You chuckle breathlessly. Your mind is still trying to catch up. “You wanted flattery, and I excel in poetry - it only made sense to combine them for my favorite muse.”
He smiles wide, fangs peeking out beneath his lips. “I think I can make an exception,” he teases. “As long as you only sing about my good features.”
You cup his cheek and guide him down until you can kiss his forehead. “All of your features are good features, my star.” You lift his head again to press your forehead to his. “I can’t admire a bow and ignore its arrows - you’re not you without all of your qualities, good and bad and middling.”
“Fine,” he sighs, “but I’m to be your first audience with each one.”
“And if I write something truly scandalous?”
He smirks devilishly. “Then I’m to be your only audience, and,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I intend to act out each phrase.”
You hum. “I should get to writing, then.”
Fangs tease at your lobe. “Allow me to provide you some inspiration, my precious song bird. It’s only fair, as your favorite muse.”
---
Tag List:
@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog
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slut4thebroken · 9 months
Text
Exposure Therapy pt. 5
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader
Summary | Dr. Crane apologizes and shows you an unusual amount of kindness.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, after care? (kind of), kissing, hickeys, cunnilingus, comfort, he stops being an asshole lol, crying.
Words | 3.5k
Notes | Okay I’m trying to make the switch realistic with his character but it’s hard portraying someone so cold who’s trying not to show any emotion at all lmao while still portraying to the reader that the shift is there.
Ao3 link | <3
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Part 4
Almost two weeks went by before you saw him again. With a clear head, you tried to replay it and figure out what you could’ve done, but as you were doing that, it didn’t occur to you that you’re not supposed to care- that you don’t want to care. So why were those two weeks so agonizing? 
You were nervous to see him again. Would he still be mean and cold toward you? Should you confront him or pretend nothing happened? You didn’t have time to choose before you were at his door, being pushed in by the orderly. You kept your head down, not wanting to face him if he’s still acting the same. 
“Sit.” It didn't sound mean? At least you’re pretty sure it didn’t. You tentatively walked toward your chair, then sat down, leg bouncing incessantly. “Something on your mind?” He asked, making you stiffen slightly. 
“No.” You said quietly, but loud enough where he wouldn’t get upset with you for not speaking clearly. 
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?” Yeah, I’m worried I’m going to find that same look of hatred that brought me to tears. 
“No.” 
“Then will you look at me?” You sighed quietly and bit your lip, then lifted your head. He wasn’t visibly upset, but you were still wary. You couldn’t hold his gaze for long, having to look at the wall behind him or at his desk. 
“I apologize for my… unprofessional behavior last time we met.” He said calmly. Always so fucking calm. Or, mostly. 
“It’s okay.” You muttered, looking down at your hands as you anxiously picked at your cuticles, wincing when one started to bleed. 
“Then can you explain why you’re behaving differently?” You swore he almost started to sound annoyed. 
“Just tired today.” You shrugged. 
“Now you’re lying too?” 
“No- I’m sorry. I really am just tired.” You said, forcing yourself to look at him to seem more convincing. He eyed you skeptically for a moment before sighing and taking off his glasses. 
“Your embittered attitude is fallacious, it was nothing you did.” He said indifferently. You looked away from him again, definitely not feeling better than before his explanation, especially because you barely understood half of it. 
“You hurt me.” You whispered, making him sigh. 
“What?” 
“You yelled at me and grabbed me. The bruise only went away a couple days ago.” You said quietly, then swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t-“ Your voice cut off as you got choked up, but you forced yourself to continue. “I don’t understand why you did that if it wasn’t something I did.” You whimpered, letting out a shaky breath. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, but you didn’t believe it. You didn’t believe that he was apologizing for any reason other than soothing you so you’ll go back to normal and he can get on with everything. 
“It’s fine.” You whispered, not letting yourself audibly cry even though the tears already started falling. 
“I’m sorry.” He said again, firmer this time. “The drugs in your system made you more sensitive to any kind of negative feedback and I didn’t keep that in mind when I got upset.” 
“I still don’t understand why you got upset though.” You kept your eyes on your lap as you sniffled, the tears calming down a bit. 
“You were right. When you said I need to be in control- you were right. I knew what was going to happen and what I was going to do, but- I changed it because of you. And the realization upset me. That’s why I behaved the way I did.” 
“…So it was my fault?” You whimpered, making him sigh. You heard his chair move back and his footsteps, then he was dropping down in front of you, gently tilting your head up by your chin. 
“It was mine. And I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact. 
“Oh… I’m sorry I made you change it.” You said quietly, making him scoff a laugh as he brushed away the lingering tears on your cheeks. 
“You feel better now?” He asked, but it was genuine, not him just trying to move on. You nodded and he gave you a small smile that you couldn’t help but return. When your eyes followed the movement though, you suddenly realized that you’ve never even kissed him yet. The thought was… disappointing? You’re not sure what the right word is. 
“Good.” He said, placing a hand on your thigh. “Would you like to continue your treatment today? Or not yet.” Your brows furrowed at the question. Why is he letting you choose? Is it a trick question?
“Um… I- I don’t…” He seemed to pick up on your confusion. 
“I’m not going to be upset if you say no. I’m genuinely asking.” He said, keeping any emotion in his tone to a minimum. You stared into pale blue eyes as you thought.
“I just don’t wanna do anything like last time.” You said tentatively. 
“Last time was a punishment. You’re not being punished today.” 
“Okay… Then, yes.” He seemed pleased by your answer and he moved onto his knees, placing both hands on your thighs. 
“I want to do something we’ve only done once before.” He started sliding his hands up and down your covered thighs, making you squirm in your seat. “Can I take these off?” He asked, gesturing to your pants. You nodded and lifted your hips off the chair enough for him to slide them down your legs. He continued teasingly dragging his hands up and down your thighs, never getting close to where you wanted him. You whined and squirmed under him, making him look up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. He moved his hands to the outside of your thighs then snaked them up to your hips, resting them on your underwear. 
“Can I take these off too?” You nodded, breathless. He quickly pulled them down your legs, discarding them with your pants, then spread your legs. You blushed as he stared at your sex, but it got even darker when he pulled your hips forward to the edge of the chair and tilted them up more. He snaked a hand up your thigh until he could lightly brush his thumb over your clit. When your breath hitched he looked up at you again.  
“Tell me what you want.” He rasped, eyes trailing down your body. When he saw your covered chest be pulled away and took your shirt off, then continued the feather light touch. 
“I- I want…” 
“Use your words. C’mon I know you can.” You whined, resisting burying your face in your hands. 
“Want your mouth…” You said quietly, just barely audible. 
“Yeah? Where?” He moved down and placed open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh, then moved to the other one. “Here?” He asked, kissing up your thigh to your hip, but he skipped over your core and went to your stomach. “Or maybe here?” You whined and he kissed up to your breasts, letting his breath fan over your nipple. “What about here?” He rasped, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling, not used to him being so soft with you. When another needy whine slipped out, he moved to the other one, working it over in his mouth until it hardened. 
“Please.” You pouted, making him pull back to look at you. 
“Please what? I’m giving you my mouth like you wanted.” He said coyly and you frowned. 
“Want it on my- my… cunt.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes from the humiliation. He didn’t bother with a response before moving back down between your legs and spreading them even wider. He placed a light kiss on your clit, making your hips buck toward the stimulation. When he licked a long stripe up your folds, you let out a loud moan, quickly placing your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 
“Keep that up and I’ll stop.” He warned, making you slowly lower your hand. He dove back in, sucking your clit into his mouth, letting out a muffled chuckle when you gasped out and bucked your hips again. Moving down to your hole, he fucked his tongue inside of you and your hips started rutting against his face as you placed your hands in his hair, gasping and pulling away once you realized. 
“I- I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” You rushed out, worried you had set him off. Instead, he grabbed your hands and placed them back on his head, never removing his mouth from your cunt. Threading your fingers through his hair, you marveled at how soft it was. When you gave an experimental tug, he moaned against you, making you do it even harder without thinking. 
He lapped up your arousal, the noise obscene in the otherwise quiet room, then moved to your clit, flicking his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth. 
“Oh god,” You sobbed out. Because you haven’t had an orgasm in over two weeks, you were already getting close. He slipped two fingers inside your eager hole and immediately started curling them against your walls, making you let out a loud moan. Your grip tightened on his hair as your hips started bucking against his face, chasing the pleasure. 
“Dr. Crane, I- I’m…” You trailed off into a moan and waited as long as you could for him to reply to your warning with denial, but he never did. If anything, that made him work harder until he pushed you over the edge. You sobbed out a moan, feeling overwhelmed by the intense pleasure as he never even slowed during your orgasm. When you sagged into the chair and relaxed your grip on his hair, he pulled back, removing his fingers and sucking your arousal off them. 
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He rasped and you nodded, staring down at him with dazed, half lidded eyes. “If you want something, you need to ask nicely.” Part of you missed when he wouldn’t humiliate you by making you say it, but another part understood the significance. He wasn’t threatening or coercing you like last time, he was truly wanting your consent. 
“Yes.” You whispered. 
“I said nicely.”
“Please.” You whined and he continued waiting. “Please fuck me.” You pouted, just wanting him inside you already. He stood up and held his hand out for you to take, helping you out of the chair then maneuvering you in front of his desk. 
“Up.” He said softly. You lifted yourself onto the desk and waited eagerly as he worked on freeing his length. He stepped between your open legs and held one over his hip while lining his cock up with your entrance. When he slowly pushed in, you both took in sharp breaths. He didn’t stop until he was completely buried inside, letting you have a moment to adjust. 
“Ready?” His voice was strained with arousal. 
“Please.” He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in at the same speed, making you whine impatiently. He ignored you and continued slowly rocking his hips into yours. 
Wrapping one hand around the small of your back and the other in your hair, he pushed you forward onto his cock and he pulled your head back, making you gasp. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he leaned into your neck, sucking the delicate skin in his mouth until he was satisfied with the mark, then moving to a new place. You held him tightly, locking your legs around his body and trying to move your hips to get more, but he wouldn’t allow it. He just maintained the same, slow rhythm. 
“Please.” You whined, making him pull back to look at you. You tried not to shrink under his gaze, but he seemed to enjoy watching you break. He sped up a little, the first thrust knocking the breath out of you from the intensity, and you clung to his body, fingers digging into his clothed back. His gaze moved from your eyes to your lips, then stayed there for a long time as he got lost in thought. 
“Please?” You whispered, eyes fluttering down to his own lips. You waited for so long that you thought you might’ve gotten yourself in trouble again, but he just cursed under his breath and moved forward, holding your head still by your hair as he kissed you. You let out a startled moan, not expecting him to actually do it. 
His lips were soft and they still faintly tasted of you. Relaxing his hand in your hair, he used it to instead hold the back of your neck, keeping your lips pressed to his- not that you would’ve tried to pull away. He sped up his thrusts even more and you moaned into the kiss, snaking one hand up to his head to pull his hair. To retaliate, he bit your bottom lip and you hissed at the sudden pain, but you couldn’t taste any blood at least. 
His hand moved from your neck to between your bodies, rubbing fast circles over your clit, making you let out a muffled whine. As your walls spasmed around his length, he let out an almost animalistic groan, pulling back to look at you. 
“Can I please come?” You whimpered. 
“Not yet.” You let out a low, needy whine at his answer. “Wait for me, you can do that right?” He asked softly, making your stomach flutter. 
“I- I think so. Are you close?” You said through a breath, quickly nearing your orgasm. 
“So close, just a little longer.” He was panting almost as heavily as you were, but even though you still hadn’t caught your breath yet, you pulled him into another kiss. You tried to stave off your orgasm, but as he got close, his thrusts became wilder— harder— and you could feel the knot of arousal in your stomach so close to snapping. 
“Come.” He muttered against your lips. “Come now,” You didn’t have to be told a third time before your orgasm was crashing over you, making you tremble in his grasp as he eagerly swallowed down your moans. His hips stuttered before he finally stilled with a low groan, never stopping his fingers on your clit. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He said through a moan, just barely pulling away from the kiss enough to get the words out. You clenched down on him from his words, making him hiss as his hips flinched forward. 
When you both came down from your orgasms, he pulled back, nose brushing yours as you both panted, still high from the pleasure. Eventually, he reluctantly pulled out, then slipped your underwear and pants on before helping you stand on shaky legs to pull them up the rest of the way. He did the same with your shirt, helping it over your head and arms before stepping back. 
“You can return to your room once your endorphin levels have normalized. Until then, you may stay in my office.” His use of the word ‘room’ instead of ‘cell’ was not lost on you, nor was the meaning behind his statement. This was the closest he’s ever gotten to giving you any kind of aftercare rather than making you be alone right after. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to impose on his work space. 
“It is not in your best interest to be alone right now.” The way he worded it was almost menacing, but you knew what he meant. 
“Thank you.” You gave him a smile and in return, you received a curt nod. So you walked over and sat on the sofa. It was more comfortable than you imagined it’d be and part of you wondered why he hasn’t used this piece of furniture during your… treatment? Can I even call it that anymore? You thought, going over the most recent events in your head. It wasn’t a demand, it was an offer. An offer that you accepted. And he didn’t hurt you, he made you feel good, praised you. Did he only do that because he felt bad about his previous behavior? Is that the only reason he’s letting you stay here?
Not wanting to be consumed by your thoughts, you looked around the room for something to do. Eventually your gaze settled on Dr. Crane who was completely absorbed in something else. 
“Do you need help?” You weren't sure what you would help with, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to ask… probably. 
“Do you have a PhD in chemistry?” He asked, not looking up from his work. 
“…No.”
“Then no I don’t need your help.” His tone wasn’t exactly mean, but it was stern and a little patronizing— maybe it could hurt to ask… 
“Oh. Okay, sorry.” You said quietly, looking away from him for something else to do. There was a bookshelf across from you— none of the books looked remotely interesting, but maybe if you read a chemistry book or two, he’d let you help. So you got up and walked over, standing in front of it as you examined all the different titles. 
“What are you doing?” His voice startled you and you turned around to face him, almost feeling guilty. 
“I- I was just wanting to read something to pass the time, but I don’t have to.” 
“Nothing there will be of interest to you.” His voice was almost laced with… curiosity? It’s hard to tell. 
“I know.” You shrugged, awkwardly waiting by the bookshelf for him to snap at you and tell you not to touch his stuff. Instead, he gave you a teasing smile. 
“If you’re so eager for an activity, I can give you a pencil and some paper. Maybe a puzzle?” He was making fun of you, that much was obvious, but it was light hearted- something you’re not very used to yet. 
“A pencil and paper sounds much better actually.” That wasn’t a lie. You’d rather doodle than read about chemistry or psychiatry. He examined you, an amused expression on his face, then opened one of his desk drawers. You walked over to him when he pulled out a notepad and a pencil, holding it out for you. 
This was much better. The drawing pushed the overwhelming thoughts to the back of your head, muffling them a little. When you ran out of room on the page, you turned it around and started again. This time, he was the one to interrupt the silence. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?” 
“Yes, thank you.” You said, not looking up from the paper. 
“How are you feeling otherwise?” You knew that by otherwise, he meant in terms of you leaving and the thought make your smile fall into a frown. 
“Um… better I guess.” You said quietly. 
“Look at me.” His tone was gentle and you couldn’t help but obey. “Are you lying to me?” He didn’t seem mad, if anything he seemed almost amused that you continued trying to deceive him.
“No. I am feeling better, I just- I don’t like it there.” You muttered, averting your gaze. 
“Why not?” He didn’t seem upset or annoyed yet, so you continued being honest. 
“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do and the only time I leave there is to eat, shower, and come here.” 
“I see.” You dared a glance at him, finding his eyes away from you as he thought. “Would you be more comfortable if I provided some drawing tools, maybe even a book or two that will interest you?” You stared at him in shock, barely comprehending the question. 
“Is- is that allowed?” He raised his brows and the more you thought about the question, the more you realized it was dumb. Not much that goes on in here is probably within the rules, so a sketch pad shouldn’t be a problem. “Right. That would be nice, yes.” You were scared that if you seemed too eager or greedy, he’d change his mind. 
“Good. You can take that for now,” He motioned to the notepad and pencil in your lap, “and tomorrow I will return with a few more items.” 
“Thank you.” You wanted to ask why he was suddenly caring about if you were comfortable or not, but you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his kindness so you stayed silent. He glanced at the clock before looking back at you. 
“I have to leave in half an hour, you may remain here until then if you’d prefer.” You nodded and went back to your drawing, but all you could think about was his strange behavior. You found yourself struggling to understand why he would do this— why he would ask for your consent, let you stay in his office, give you a notebook to draw in, promise to give you even more supplies later— it was… weird. And you feared his kindness was due to something other than pure intentions. 
Part 6
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
Note
hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸
uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗
hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!
warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending
You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 
“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 
“Please, stop apologizing.” 
You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 
“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 
You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 
“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 
“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 
“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  
“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 
A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 
“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 
You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  
“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 
An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 
“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 
“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 
“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 
When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 
“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 
You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 
Says Spencer Reid? 
“...sorry?” 
He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 
“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  
“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 
He swallows and nods. 
“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  
“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 
More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 
“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 
But you're not crying because he was nice.  
Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 
His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 
“I meant every word.” 
You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 
“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 
Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 
“Had?” 
The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 
“Yeah. You know what changed?” 
“What’s that?” 
Absolutely nothing. 
“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 
Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 
“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 
“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 
“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 
You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 
More silence. 
“But you don’t believe it.” 
A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 
“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 
A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 
“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 
“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  
You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 
“What?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 
“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 
“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 
“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 
Your heart drops as you study his face.  
No. 
Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 
Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 
You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 
“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 
“What are you doing? Don’t--” 
You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 
“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 
A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 
“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 
With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 
“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 
He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 
“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 
Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 
“You... you like me?” 
“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 
Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.
And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 
You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.
“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 
“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 
“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 
“No, but—” 
“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 
“Of course I have.” 
“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 
Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  
Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 
“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 
“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 
Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 
“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 
A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 
“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 
“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 
“I do.” 
“Will you kiss me?” 
“If that’s what you want.” 
You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 
When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.
To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 
“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 
A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 
“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 
“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 
------------------------------------------ 
epilogue
Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 
“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 
“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 
“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 
“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 
“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 
Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 
“Spencer?” 
He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 
“What does pulchritude mean?” 
It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
And so you let it float away. 
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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so um hi!! i have like this stupid thought and i need to spread it lmao 💀💀 so basically let's say reader is trying to quit cigarettes/vapes ( possibly lets make it modern lol) cause you know its bad and she has like this urge to constantly touch her lips (i saw on tiktok that there is this psychological thing that things touching your lips send postive signals to your brain but its from tiktok so i dont think its valid information lol) but back to the point- so eddie being a loving boyfriend he is to help her with her addiction basically told her to just suck him off every time she gets the urge to smoke
god fuck this is a good idea-
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Eddie glances sideways at you from his spot on the couch, seeing your finger between your lips. You're gnawing at the nail which, like your others, are raw.
"Hey," He chides, reaching out to swat your hand away from your mouth, "Get that outta there."
"Eddie," You whine, crocodile tears lining your eyes, "I need something in my mouth! My nail's the best I've got."
He sympathizes with you, he really does. He'd only quit smoking because of the younger kids he hangs out with, after Dustin developed a chest cough he refrained from smoking around him. The rest was easy, once he'd started cutting back it wasn't hard to continue until he didn't crave any nicotine at all.
"I know it's hard," He flicks pause on the remote, lolling his head to the side to face you, "Why don't you get some candy or something?"
You shake your head vehemently, "No, no, food won't work. I need something, like, solid. Permanent. It's about my lips, not my mouth."
He has an idea. He feels like a children's cartoon, brows dipping and eyes narrowing, lips curling into a smirk. You notice the expression and stall, quirking one of your own brows up.
"Eddie...?"
"Get on your knees."
He relishes the reveal, the reality of his idea hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your mouth drops open and it only makes him tease you more, 'That's the idea.'
"Eddie," You follow his orders, sliding tentatively off the couch and landing on your knees, "'You sure?"
"Why would I say no?" He snickers, fingers already prying at his jeans to unfurl the zipper, "Go ahead, sweetheart."
You reach for his boxers, lightly palming him over the fabric. He relaxes his posture, eyes locked onto your kneeling form. It doesn't take him long to stiffen, between your touch and the view he has.
You can't help but chuckle, "You're excited."
"You need my dick in your mouth or else you'll start biting your fingers off," Eddie sneers, sensitive not only to touch but to teasing, "Don't insult me."
"Sor-ry," You huff, dipping your neck to kitten lick at the head of his cock, "I didn't even ask for this, y'know. You were the one who-"
Eddie jerks his hips upwards, cutting you off by jamming his cock between your lips. He doesn't hit the back of your throat but you gag all the same, eyes widening as tears well in your waterline.
"Desperate and mouthy," Eddie drawls, condescending grin on his face, "Get your fix, babe, 'cause if you keep talking back I'll zip up."
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blue-slxt · 7 months
Text
Our Song Cord: If The World Was Ending, You’d Come Over, Right?
(Chapter 5)
A/N: It feels like it took me forever to really work out how I wanted this chapter to play out lol. But overall, I'm satisfied with how it came out so I hope you guys enjoy it too. I'm not the best at angst, but I think it came out well. Every chapter title is a song reference, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.
Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Pregnancy, Labor, Birth, Mentions of Death, I think that's all
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: It's time for the arrival of your baby and Neteyam gets clocked upside the head with revelations. Also, Kiri is best girl.
Things were never the same with you and Neteyam after that night. Aside from a few fleeting glances from across the way, he completely avoided you. He didn’t come hunting with you, never sat with you at dinner, hell, you even missed how he would tease you about the awful accessories you would try to weave together for him. To everyone else, he was still Neteyam, the prince of the Omatikaya, but to you, he became a stranger. To make matters worse, he started heavily leaning into his “relationship” with Layao. You almost would never find one without the other these days. You almost preferred he physically tore your heart from your chest with his bare hands. That would have hurt less than this.
Kiri would still come to check on you from time to time. You told her what had happened and she immediately tried to run to go tell Neteyam the truth. As much as you wanted him to know; as much as you knew he deserved to know, it felt like this was the way things were just supposed to be. Your arrangement was always supposed to be only temporary. Neteyam was always supposed to be with Layao. It’s what’s best for the clan. So, if that means taking a step back and figuring things out on your own, then that’s what you’ll do. The first few weeks were the hardest. You found yourself sitting alone on the ground of your floor in tears nearly every day. You hardly left your home anymore. If it weren’t for Kiri consistently coming to check on you and bringing you food, you’re not sure how well you would have fared. She’s been your biggest support throughout this whole thing. Every now and then, she tries to urge you to tell Neteyam the truth, but you stand firm in your decision not to. “You didn’t see how he looked at me, Kiri.” You would tell her feeling a fresh pang of tightening in your chest at the memory.
“Besides, he seems happy now with Layao. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”
She would roll her eyes at you every time, but her empathy for you outweighed her grievance with your choice in handling the situation.
After a few months, your stomach finally started to grow a small bump. And as your belly grew, so did your determination to make the best life you could for you and your unborn child. But it seems that your protruding stomach also made it that much harder for Neteyam to even look your way. Nevertheless, hiding away in your home was no longer an option. You would visit the healing tent on a semi-regular basis so that Mo’at could track the progress of the baby. She said it’s going to be a little girl and your adoration for the little soon-to-be life swelled in your heart while your hands ran over your stomach.
You and Aykxo saw each other more, but it never went past casual catch ups. You were positive he had heard the talk about him being your secret mate and father to your baby, but he never brought the subject up with you for some reason. You both knew it wasn’t true so maybe there just was no reason to speak it out loud. However, if it were mentioned to him by anyone else, he would deny it. Despite his best efforts, though, people still speculated. About halfway through your pregnancy, Aykxo tragically lost his life during one of the raids held against the sky people. When the news reached the clan, many people gave you pitied looks and there were whispers of ‘that poor girl’ when he was laid to rest. Many people still believed Aykxo to be the father of your baby, but you always denied it. Not that it was anyone’s business as far as you were concerned. But after every denial, there would be the inevitable ‘well, who else could it be?’ and you would clam up. You couldn’t tell the truth and you didn’t want to put the spotlight on anyone else.
“You should have seen it, Kiri. I mean the way that she looked at me when all I asked was for her to pass me some damn fruit. Fruit! I’m so sick of everybody looking at me like some poor, defenseless, grieving mate that can’t hold it together.” You say readying your spear to strike at a fish in the pond.
Kiri sits next to you on the edge with her feet dangling into the water. “Well, you know, if you’re really that sick of it, you could always just—”
“Don’t. You already know that that’s not happening.”
She sighs deeply and shrugs her shoulders. Even though it made your heart heavy to have Neteyam avoiding you like a disease, you had gained a stronger bond with Kiri than you previously had and you were beyond grateful for all of her support and help. At least your child would have some type of relationship with his family.
As the months carried on, you had learned to make your peace with your situation and your decision. Hell, you had even started to consider actually taking a mate. That proved to be more difficult than you’d initially thought, though. Men were cautious about approaching you, to put it lightly. Some of them were good friends with Aykxo and felt bad about moving in on ‘his mate’. Some were put off by the fact that you were currently carrying a child that didn’t belong to them. Either way, the whole process was like pulling teeth.
But the peculiar thing that stood out to you was not your own failed attempts at taking a mate, but the fact that after all this time, Neteyam still had not had his ceremony with Layao. You were sure that Mo’at or Jake would have had them get on with it by now. It’s not that you were complaining, but you had to wonder what was the hold up? Kiri swears she doesn’t know. She says she has nothing to do with the extension on their postponement.
Regardless, it doesn’t concern you anymore. Your main focus is your baby that will arrive any day now. You’ve been spending the last week or so hunting and gathering and preparing for the birth. You’ve stocked up on plenty of ripe fruit, vegetables, smoked meats, herbs to help with your recovery, and freshly woven blankets that you made with Kiri’s help.
And now, you sit here at a pond listening to the gentle trickle of the water as it waves and moves with your swaying feet. The warm water on your aching joints was a welcome relief. Your feet had swollen, your belly was large and heavy, your breasts filled out and became sore. So, you often would come and soak whatever part of yourself was bothering you most that day. Your hand sits on top of your belly rubbing little swirls around the tahnì you can still see from this angle.
“Hello in there little one. I’m your sa’nu.” You coo lovingly at your stomach with a smile. You can feel little feet swing and kick inside of you in response. One particularly hard kick lands right below your navel and your hand instinctively holds the spot you were hit. “Oof, you are strong, just like your sempu…” Your expression is still warm, but there’s a hint of sadness there thinking about it.
“Your sempu is a mighty warrior” you chuckle a bit. “But he is also very kind and funny and handsome. He’s pretty smart most times, but he can also be a total skxawng.”
It feels like her tiny body somersaults inside when you mention her father and you can’t help but laugh a little to yourself. Sometimes, you wonder if she knows when you’re specifically talking about Neteyam. Maybe it’s the change in your heartbeat that she can feel when you talk about him. Or it could be the tensing of your gut when you see him around the village. Whatever the case may be, she always comes alive at the mention of her father.
Dinner should be happening right about now. You figure that it’s time for you to go head back.
“What do you say we go get you fed, little one?”
You stand to your feet and feel a pang of pain in your lower back. You probably shouldn’t have sat for as long as you did. You try to stretch and relieve some of the pressure, but to no avail. Just another ache to add to the list.
At dinner, Kiri and Lo’ak keep you company while Neteyam sits with Layao and his parents, no doubt discussing the coming ceremony.
“I don’t care what everyone else says, there’s no way you’d mate with someone as corny as Aykxo. I just don’t buy it.” Lo’ak says between bites of his food.
“You know, Lo’ak, that may be the smartest thing I’ve heard you say in a long time.” You tease and he shoots you an unamused look.
“I’m just saying, I don’t get why you’re being so hush hush about who it is. It’s not like it’s a big deal, but you won’t even give us a hint. You keep saying it’s not Aykxo, but you’re never with anyone else.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe it’s none of our business?” Kiri rolls her eyes at him.
“Of course not.” He replies very matter of fact.
Kiri waves him off and turns her attention to you, “Anyways, have you picked out a name yet?” Her eyes light up and her smile beams at you as she’s been impatiently awaiting the arrival of the new addition. “I have, but I’m waiting until she’s here.”
A sudden chill runs up your spine and you reflexively turn around to see what the cause is. You’re surprised to see Neteyam standing behind you looking like he was about to tap you, but he retracts his hand once you look at him.
“Hey, um, can we talk?” the awkward tension is palpable. Your eyes flick to Lo’ak and Kiri for some kind of help, but Lo’ak is too busy trying to avoid eye contact with you and Kiri is urging you with her eyes to go with him.
“Sure.”
You stand up with a heavy sigh and follow his lead away from the crowd. He doesn’t walk you that far away from everyone, but far enough that you can have some privacy. Your eyes study him while he shifts from one foot to the other and his hands clench repeatedly at his sides. The ache in your back is building in intensity, but you do your best to ignore it. This is the first time that Neteyam has actually acknowledged your existence since he found out about your pregnancy. No way you were going to let a little back pain interrupt this long-overdue conversation. 
“So, I hear from Kiri that you are due soon.” He starts.
“Yes, I am. Any day now.” Eywa, this couldn’t be any more uncomfortable if you tried.
“Well, that’s good news. I’m sure you will be an excellent mother.”
You almost feel like you could be sick from how formal he’s being with you right now. It physically makes your stomach hurt. Literally. There’s a tight squeezing in your stomach that’s growing. You still try to keep the conversation going anyways.
“Oh, uh, thank you…” Your hand holds your stomach right in the spot where the pain is the worst. You try to rub it and massage the feeling away, but it does nothing to alleviate the feeling.
“I guess I should also be offering my condolences…for what happened to Aykxo.”
Not this again.
“Neteyam, please don’t. Me and Aykxo nev—” your thought is interrupted by another stronger pain in your stomach. You double over clutching your belly waiting for it to pass, but it doesn’t. “Are you alright?” Neteyam’s voice finally has dropped its proper tone and is filled with concern. You can’t answer him as you groan through the pain and then that’s when you feel it. A gush of liquid rushes out from between your legs and to a small puddle on the ground at your feet. Your eyes go wide and look up at Neteyam who looks even more panicked.
“Oh, Great Mother…I think it is time!” 
“Oh, Eywa. We need to get you to my grandmother right now!” Neteyam tries to grab your hand and lead you back towards the clan, but the pain feels like it has already increased tenfold and you can barely move.
“Ahhh…I-I can’t, Teyam. It hurts t-too much.” You whine holding your stomach and nearly falling to your knees.
“O-okay, okay. Just…hold on to me.” He says bending down a little and guiding your arms to wrap around his neck. He picks you up bridal style and quickly regains his balance.
“Just hang on for a little longer. We’ve got to get you to the healing tent.”
All you can do is nod your head while you try to focus on your breathing and nestle yourself into his hold. He hurries back to the clan and rushes back over to where Kiri and Lo’ak are still sitting. Kiri momentarily lights up seeing Neteyam carrying you back, but her expression immediately falls into worry once she sees the expression on both of your faces.
“What happened?” she asks standing to her feet and meeting Neteyam halfway.
“It’s time for her to have the baby!”
“Eywa, okay, come bring her to the tent.” She leads him through the crowd and some people stare and whisper amongst themselves about the scene unfolding in front of them. Not like you can really notice right now when it’s all you can do just to breathe properly. The bouncing of Neteyam’s steps don’t help with the cramping feeling growing in your abdomen, but it’s a necessary evil to get you the help you need.
Once you finally arrive at the healing tent, Kiri instructs Neteyam to lay you down on one of the mats while she gathers supplies and locates Mo’at. Sweat beads on your forehead and your vision is losing focus. Neteyam brushes his fingers over your face hoping to offer you some sort of comfort in this moment until his grandmother can arrive.
“Teyam…” you breathe out.
“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. My grandmother is on her way.” He says feeling sick to his stomach at the fact that he feels so powerless in this moment.
“Teyam…’m sorry…”
“Shhh…now’s not the time. Just focus on getting through this.”
Kiri finally returns with Mo’at and they both waste no time springing into action around you. Mo’at places her hands on top of your stomach and closes her eyes listening for the message from Eywa.
“It is time, child. You will need to put forth all your strength.” She says looking down at you.
Kiri takes ahold of your hand and mutters words of encouragement to you.
Neteyam can’t help but feel a bit out of place here right now. He has no way to help and he feels more than a bit awkward watching the birth of someone else’s child so he drops your hand and silently backs out of the tent.
“Where are you going?” Kiri asks him sharply.
“W-well, it seems that the two of you have it under control. I don’t want to be in the way.” He says continuing out of the tent. “Neteyam!” Kiri calls out, but when you squeeze her hand, she knows that she needs to focus her attention on supporting you right now. “I swear to Eywa, I am going to kick his skxawng ass when this is over.” She mutters to herself.
A loud, guttural groan leaves your throat feeling another harsh contraction of your muscles rip through you.
Mo’at uses her fingertips and a dull bone dipped in oil to tap various points around your body. She says it’s to help prepare you and help your body do what it needs to.
“I can’t do this, Kiri. I ca—aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhh”, you barely even have the capacity to get a full sentence out without being interrupted by the impatient arrival of your baby.
“Yes, you can. I know it hurts, but right now you have to be strong for her. I’m going to be right here with you the whole time.” She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze when your grip on her tightens.
“It is time.” Mo’at speaks up in front of you. Outside the tent, Neteyam had actually stuck around. He couldn’t bring himself to stay inside and watch, but somehow it felt wrong for him to completely leave you too. So, he opted to lean himself against one of the support posts and wait. You know, for moral support. All he can hear from inside is groans and screams of pain while his grandmother and sister try to coach you through it. The pained howls that you make are unlike anything he’s ever heard and it makes that useless feeling settle in his gut again. There was a point in time where he would’ve done anything to be able to help take away some of your pain and a part of him will always feel that way for you, but he decided that that was no longer his place. More agonizing screams erupt from inside the tent and he prays to Eywa to help you through this. Hearing you like this made his heart hurt in a way that was different than anything else he’s encountered.
Just when he feels like he’s about to break, there’s a long silence. His ears swivel back and forth searching for a sound, any sound. Some kind of sign that everything was alright. And then, there it is…a cry. There are sighs of relief and muttered praises to you from Mo’at and Kiri about how well you did. Your baby’s first cries fill his ears and it practically brings Neteyam to his knees.
Inside, you cradle your newborn in your arms and an exhausted smile crosses your face looking down at her tiny, squishy features.
“She will calm once you make the bond.” Mo’at explains taking hold of your baby’s queue. Kiri helps bring your own to the front so that tsaheylu can be made and once the bright glowing tendrils meet, your baby is soothed immediately. When she calms down and looks up at you, you can’t help but notice the pattern of the stripes and tanhì on her head are identical to Neteyam’s and it brings tears to your eyes.
Through the bond, you can feel how she is trusting you and relying on you and you are sure that you’ve never loved like this before and nothing would ever compare to this. She is everything to you. The tears keep coming and you can’t distinguish if they’re happy tears or sad tears anymore.
Kiri places her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you and when you look at her, she’s welling up with tears of her own.
“She looks just like her father.” You half whisper.
The recovery period was tough. Even the simple act of bringing your baby to the Tree of Souls so that she could make her first bond was a strenuous responsibility. Caring for an infant alone proved to be the hardest thing that you had ever done. If it weren’t for Kiri coming to visit you almost daily, you surely would’ve collapsed from exhaustion by now.
“Hello little Veyä. I’m your aunt Kiri. Oh, you are just so cute!” she would coo and cuddle her in her arms while you would take the chance to do your hair or bathe. It was a heartwarming scene to say the least.
Who you haven’t seen in the almost 2 weeks since your baby’s been born? Neteyam. Before, his avoidance was painful, but now it was just strange. It was as if he was a ghost. There one second and as soon as he’d catch even the smallest glimpse of you, he would be gone.
“What’s up with Neteyam these days?”
“He’s been brooding in his kelku for weeks now and he won’t talk to anyone about what’s bugging him.” Lo’ak says wiggling his finger at Veyä who’s tucked into your sling on your chest and letting her grab at him.
You hum out a response mindlessly rubbing your hand up and down your baby’s back.
“He’d better pull it together soon. Grandmother said that he and Layao are finally going to have their ceremony in a few days. Man, what I wouldn’t give to have a girl like that.” Your attention snaps back to Lo’ak who is still playing with Veyä.
“Oh, I see.” There it is again, that funny feeling. That familiar sinking sensation that makes it feel like your chest is going to concave in on itself. After so long, it almost seemed less likely to happen, but of course, the world is not so kind.
“Well, I should get going. I’ve got to get Veyä to Mo’at so she can make sure that she’s doing well.”
“Alright. I guess I should get back to training anyways. See ya around.” He says while you wave goodbye at him and head towards the healing tent. Veyä coos in your sling you quickly readjust her to make sure she’s secure. When you enter the tent, there’s no one there.
“Hello? Tsahìk? Kiri?” no response. That’s odd. You were almost sure that this was the time you agreed to come. Maybe there was some kind of last-minute emergency and they had to run out. Or maybe you were actually so sleep deprived and out of your head that you had gotten the timing wrong.
“Guess we have some time to kill. Let’s go have a snack while we wait for someone to get back. How does that sound, tìlor?” you gush at your little baby and rub your finger against her cheek making her crack a tiny smile.
“Hello? Grandmother? I need your help with—oh” when you turn around, you see Neteyam entering the tent holding his forearm, but he goes still when he realizes that you’re there.
“Hi. I think everyone is out right now.” You say sheepishly.
“Oh, um, I see. What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I was bringing Veyä to see Mo’at just to check on her progress.” He doesn’t offer much of a response besides a small nod of his head. Your eyes trail down to the trickles of blood on his arm. “What happened to you?”
He looks down at his arm, “Ah, training accident. I got distracted and got swiped.” He quickly lifts his hand from his arm to show you. He’s definitely downplaying it. There’s a long open gash up half the length of his arm.
“Eywa, that looks bad.” “It’s fine, really. I can just wait for Grandmother to get back.”
“Are you kidding me? You can’t just wait for that. Sit down. Let me help you.” His face falls a little in surprise, “Really, you don’t have to wor—” “Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, sit down and let me wrap your arm.” Your voice comes out stern and sure taking him aback. You’ve only ever used his full name once in your whole lives so he wasn’t used to hearing it from you. It makes the tip of his tail flick wildly behind him without his permission. With a sigh, he relents and takes a seat on the ground in front of you.
“I know that I’m no tsakarem, but I at least can do this much.” You say already grabbing the nearby bowl of yalnabark and some clean cloth. You crouch in front of him and pour water over the wound to clean it and dip your fingers into the yalnabark paste so that you can smooth it over his arm. You’re careful with your movements so as to not disturb Veyä too much. Your eyes watch your hands while you work, but Neteyam can only watch your face. He tries to not let his face get hot under your gentle touch and attentive gaze. He thinks about how much he misses when your eyes would look at him with what felt like love. How your cheeks would squish up when you smiled at him. How soft your lips were under the calloused tips of his fingers. Damn, how he wanted to touch you again. It was always a gut punch to see you from a distance which is why he tried his hardest to not see you. But looking at you now up close, he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.
Neteyam is pulled from his musings by the small babbles of your baby in your sling. He’d been trying for the last 2 weeks to deny the reality of the situation, but right now, there was no running from the truth when it sat right there nestled snugly against your chest. His eyes fall to the small figure you carried and he feels as if his brain short circuits when she stares back at him.
Again, Neteyam is a smart man. He’s observant. And what he immediately notices looking at your baby? It’s like looking at his own reflection. He instantly recognizes the familiar shapes and patterns on her head. Yes, her features are more similar to yours such as her eyes or her lips, but there’s no mistaking the pattern of her tanhì or the stripes on her forehead that all curve and meet right between her eyes. It feels as if his whole chest seizes. There was no way. Was there?
You don’t notice the look Neteyam is giving you right now as you’re too busy ensuring that you wrap the cloth around his arm properly.
“Okay, that should do for now. At least, until your grandmother can properly take care of it. But that should hold you for the day.” You say tying the final knot. You’re met with silence and when you look at his face, Neteyam’s face is stuck with a dumbfounded expression. You stare back at him, “What?”
His mouth opens and closes waiting for words to come through, but none do and he instead sits there like a gaping fish.
“Alright. Well, I’d better get going. I need to find a snack and feed Veyä. I guess I’ll see you around.” You say finally standing and making your way out of the tent. Neteyam watches you completely dazed. He feels as if everything he’s known has just been flipped on its head.
At dinner, you sit with Kiri and Lo’ak as usual while chewing on some teylu and watching Kiri gush at Veyä in your sling. Her tiny tail thrashes around in excitement when Kiri tickles just under her chin and the sight makes your heart swell. Across the crowd, you spot Neteyam sitting with his parents and Layao as usual. But what was unusual was the way he kept staring at you completely lost to whatever other conversation was being held around him. He only offered fleeting glances and half-hearted responses to those around him while maintaining his focus on you. Normally, these days, he did all he could to avoid seeing you and now he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.
“Any particular reason your brother keeps staring over here?” you ask both of them.
When Kiri and Lo’ak turn around, sure enough, they catch a glimpse of Neteyam’s searing focus before he can pretend to look away and act casual.
“No clue. He’s been weird all day.” Lo’ak remarks. “He was totally out of it at training. He got this really nasty looking gash on his arm when he was training one of the other warriors. He left himself wide open. I don’t know where his head is at these days.”
Veyä starts to fuss in your arms so you latch her onto your chest figuring she’s also ready to eat. You do your best to try and not dwell on the pair of eyes watching your every move through the rest of dinner.
By the time you’re done with your food, Veyä has fallen asleep and you say your goodbyes to Kiri and Lo’ak so that you can head back to your kelku and get some rest.
Neteyam’s focus still lingers on you even after you’ve disappeared from his sight, his mind follows behind you.
He manages to bring his attention back to the scene around him enough to notice that Layao has finished eating. He figures that if there were ever an opportunity to do this, it was now or never. He leans over and whispers to Layao, “Can we go talk somewhere?”
She nods at him and they excuse themselves from the group.
They walk in silence together to Neteyam’s kelku and the quiet is thick and heavy between them. His gut feels sick, but he knows that this is for the best. When they get inside, he pulls the flap over the opening and secures it to give them some privacy.
Layao watches Neteyam curiously while he paces a bit trying to find the best starting point. He turns to her and swallows hard. “Layao, you are a wonderful person and any man in the clan would be lucky to have you, but I don’t think that I can go through with this arrangement. I care about you a lot, but I’m in love with someone else.” He finally admits. He waits to watch her reaction and tries to prepare his heart for the stream of tears and sobs that are sure to leave her at any moment…and yet, they never come. She blinks at him a couple of times while processing the information and then, to his complete shock, she sighs in relief.
“Oh, thank Eywa.” She says letting go of a big breath.
Now, it’s Neteyam’s turn to blink at her in confusion. Layao notices the bewildered expression on his face and takes a couple of steps closer to him. “Look, Neteyam, you are a great guy. You’re handsome and strong and loyal and kind, but I’m not in love with you either. I was going along with the arrangement because everyone said it was what was best for the clan. I was leaning in to try and make the best of the situation for both of us and I was scared to be the one to call it off.” She explains.
His mouth hangs open with this new revelation. “Wait, so you don’t want to mate with me?”
She laughs a little to herself, “Not particularly. No offense Mr. Mighty Warrior, but I just don’t see you that way. If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m actually interested in Lo’ak.”
Now, Neteyam is the one laughing. All this time, it could have been so simple.
“I can see why you love her.” She says interrupting his train of thought before it can even really begin.
“How did you know?” She rolls her eyes at him, “Neteyam, I have 2 eyes that work. It is as obvious as the stripes on my face that you are madly in love with her. I’ve always seen the way you are around her. She’s always had your heart. And I can understand why.” She takes his hand in hers tenderly. “It was fun for a while, but I think it’s time for both of us to stop playing pretend and do what’s best for us.”
Neteyam covers her hand with his other and smiles at her. “Thank you.”
“Now, go find her. And don’t screw it up.” She says playfully shoving him out of the kelku.
“I owe you one. I promise, I’ll get you in with Lo’ak. It shouldn’t be too hard since he’s kind of already into you.” He says turning on his heels and eagerly heading towards your home.
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vanderlesbian · 8 months
Text
rdr2 x autistic reader headcanons
saw someone else do this but i wanted to give my headcanons too! enjoy tehe... includes arthur, john, dutch, and charles!
gn!reader + no warnings / fluff
arthur morgan
arthur is so patient and understanding with you
from the moment you met him, you never felt the need to mask around him because he never questioned your behaviors or belittled you for them
if any problems ever arised, arthur would always be quick to come to your defense
hes very careful with you; he handles you like he's holding a butterly. not because he thinks youre fragile or incapable, but because he cares for you too much and never wants to hurt you
he also knows that youre sensitive to things and will take mental notes
if he sees that you cover your ears when something loud happens, he'll be sure to be quiet around you
if you express that you don't like how a certain food feels, he'll start bringing other options along to make sure you're eating
he's not very good at being upfront with his emotions, and you can't always catch onto his hints which ends up with you being confused
but he's trying to break that habit
all in all he's a very understanding partner who prioritizes you above all
john marston
lets be real john is also autistic
youre both very understanding of each others needs and its nice to be able to completely be yourself around your partner
in a relationship he can be very touchy sometimes, but he can recognize when you dont want to be touched. if hes unsure, he'll ask
he will wait or ask for permission to do pretty much anything
"can i kiss you?" "can i hug you?" "is it alright if we hold hands?"
hes definitely awkward but he just needs the confirmation
he is veryyy blunt but to you its a good thing
it makes me feel like neither of you have to worry about if the other is beating around the bush or something because both of you say whats on your mind LOL
both of you are trying to figure out this relationship thing together
from an outside perspective, people might think the two of you are moving really slow, but for both of you its a perfect pace
dutch van der linde
dutch is your biggest fan when you start infodumping
he will listen to you speak about whatever for days on end, and you'll do the same with him as he talks about whatever philosophical tangent he has for the day
hes so infatuated with you its crazy
you will finish your infodumping tangent and he will scoop you up in his arms and go,"you're so beautiful/handsome, you know that?"
like oookaaayyy huhehehehehhehhshsh
he will SPOIL you with things related to your special interest. anything he sees that he knows you'll like, he'll snatch it up so quick to give it to you
he'll definitely boast about you to the other members
"they're so INTELLIGENT and HARD WORKING...perhaps the rest of you should take a note or two"
he lets you fidget with his fingers because you like his rings
he makes sure that your shared tent is perfectly up to your standards
the feeling of the blanket overwhelms you? suddenly hes sending arthur out to fetch a new one
he definitely pampers you a lot and sometimes it might feel suffocating at times but not bc you dislike it, you just need a moment to recharge
you'll tell him you need a moment to yourself and he'll oblige
charles smith
the two of you love parallel play omg
you two will be completely silent while he makes arrows and you partake in one of your hobbies but its so comforting to both of you
charles will always be the first to notice when you start to get overstimulated, so he'll tell the others to quiet down, give you space, or whatever else you need to calm yourself
hes kind of overprotective of you, so sometimes you'll have to reassure him that youre fine
he just cares about you more than anything
now that im thinking about it charles is also probably autistic
he's usually very quiet but with you he'll never shut up because he knows that you'll listen and show genuine interest
he will craft things for you to fidget with omfg
he'll notice that youre very antsy with your hands or legs and one day you'll come back to your tent and see a small handmade doll sitting on your bed
"did you make this for me?"
"i noticed you play with your fingers a lot"
he's genuinely the sweetest ever and he will just have heart eyes for you all the time
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