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m0nsterqzzz · 3 months

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Pretty and Smart

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader

summary: Wanda has a fear of the dentist, but what about when she wants to start dating one?

warnings: mentions of drugs (anesthesia), swearing, injurys (tooth injurys), such a shitty ending cuz i'm terrible at writing endings, needles

a/n: completely inspired by the fact that i got three teeth removed yesterday and flirted with my 20 year older nurse lol. literally everything that Wanda says while waking up is from videos my sister took of me.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Wanda's eyes almost start glowing red as Natasha forces her through the medical room door. This part of the medical wing is filled with all types of necessities for a dentist to perform regular check ups, surjurys, or any other type of appointment that an Avenger would need.

Tony hired the best dentist he could find and that worries Wanda a bit as usually that means they’re pretty with no brain. That’s not the only thing that worries her though. Her long lasting fear of being put under anesthesia is coming out quite quickly as the time for her appointment to get two teeth pulled from inside her gums approaches. She locked herself in her room a bit ago, but she should have remembered that her best friend is a retired spy.

“Please just help me out here Wanda! I don’t want to be late to my date with Maria!” Natasha complains, practically shoving her friend through the door. “I thought it was bros before hoes Nat?! What happened to that?!” “We graduated from middle school Wanda! That's what happened!”

You’re filling out some paperwork when Natasha finally gets Wanda into the room, and the way you smile at her doesn’t help with the butterflies in her stomach. “This is my friend Wanda. She’s here for her appointment. Bye.” Natasha says before leaving, and Wanda is about to send a ball of red energy her way before the door closes.

Your eyes widen at her magic and she smiles nervously as it fades. “Sorry.” You chuckle, standing up from the desk and holding a hand out for her to shake. “You’re fine. What’s your name sweetie?” You ask, subtly leading her to sit on the chair. “I’m Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. And your…..you're the dentist Tony hired?” “Well yes. I work at a dentist office in the city and Mr. Stark came in looking for someone. I need the extra work. Sorry….I’m rambling.”

She shakes her head, sitting down in the chair as she smiles at you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s making me feel better.” Her nerves are slowly fading the more you flash your bright smile at her, but their right back when you pick up something from the side tray.

Your smile slightly falters when her fingertips start glowing red, but it stays in order to help comfort her. “You’re alright dear. It's just a pulse oximeter. I’m going to put it on your pointer finger in order to help me keep track of the absorbed oxygen into your red blood cells.” She doesn’t understand what that means, but she begins to slowly relax as you explain every machine you're connecting to her body. A blood pressure cuff, an ankle monitor to track her heart rate, a wrist monitor to do the same, and then you wheel over the IV rod with a type of liquid anesthesia that will go from the rod, through a plastic tube, and into her bloodstream in order to sedate her while you work on her teeth. The moment she sees the needle, her eyes flash red.

You scoot your chair back a little, a nervous smile overtaking you as you remove the needle from her eyesight. “Okay honey, calm down. It’s just a needle. It’s gonna be a gentle little poke and then a very tiny plastic tube is going to go in your arm which will let the liquid anesthesia flow to your blood and sedate you. That way, it only feels like you're asleep for one second and you won’t feel the pain.” She shakes her head, beginning to sit up until you place a gentle hand on her arm. “Miss Maximoff, would you like me to get one of your friends?” She takes a deep breath, forcing the red to fade from her eyes as she lays back down. “I’m a grown woman. I can handle this.”

You sigh, placing the needle down on the tray as you look at her. “It’s okay to be scared Wanda. In fact, I have many patients that come in here and get scared. It’s natural and you’re allowed to feel scared. Even superheroes don't have to be strong all the time.” This brings a small smile to her face, and she nods.

“Hold my hand? I’m kind of nervous.” You ask and she holds your hand that won’t be holding the needle. She knows you're nowhere near scared of piercing her with a needle, but she’s glad you didn’t exactly call her out. You call in a nurse that was around in case you couldn't perform one of your duties to put in the IV so that you can continue to hold her hand as the nurse does so.

Before you instruct the nurse to pick up the needle, you grab a mask that connects to some sort of machine and hold it in front of her face. “This is laughing gas. I’m sorry I forgot about it. It’ll make you less nervous.” This seems to completely relax her, and you place the mask over her nose. She can still talk through her mouth, but you instruct her to close it and take deep breaths through her nose. “It smells like syrup. Maple syrup.” She notes, and you can tell that’s not a bad thing by the way she grins at you. While you wait a few minutes for that to take effect, you talk to her about anything and everything. What you had for breakfast that morning, the weather outside, the way your car broke down on the side of the road on your way here, a book you’ve been reading the past few days, or how cocky Tony is.

“Wow. Pretty and smart.” She mumbles, and you look at her with a confused smile. “Pardon?” “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Eventually, she looks at the needle and nods. “I’m ready.” You smile, nodding for the nurse to put in the IV as you continue to stroke the back of her hand with your thumb.

A few minutes later, you have the IV in her arm with a very minimal amount of tears. “Very good job sweetie. You did great.” You could have swore a blush coats her face, but that must just be the laughing gas.

It's only a few minutes later that her eyes close and her breathing evens out, and you take a moment to admire her before grabbing the first tool from the tray. When you go to tell the nurse she can leave, she's smirking at you. “What? What's wrong?”

“You think your patient’s cute.” She laughs, and you shake your head quickly. “No. That's unprofessional.” “Okay “sweetie"” She mocks the nickname you just used on the Avenger. “The last time a patient asked to hold your hand, you panicked and forced me to do it.” You glare at her, pointing one hand to the door as you start working on extracting the teeth. “Out Vanessa. I'll call you when I need you.” “Alright Dr. Love.” “That is the stupidest nickname you've ever had for me V. Get out.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

About an hour later, you've finished extracting the teeth and sewed her gums back together. They were all on the left side of her mouth, so she'll be able to eat a lot easier if she just uses the other side.

You clean up as you wait for her to wake up, and you sit back down next to her when she begins stirring. The first thing she does is send you a dopey smile and then hang her head to the side so it's falling off the headrest. “No. Don’t do that sweetie. Don’t wanna hurt your neck.” You reposition her head to gently lay it back down, but she just lets it fall again making you chuckle. “Fine. I’ll be right back.” You leave for a few seconds, coming back with a wheelchair and kneeling at her side. “Okay Wanda. I’m gonna help get you in this wheelchair so when your friend comes she can easily get you back to your room okay?” She nods, but makes no attempt to move as she asks, “Do you have balloons?” You giggle, looking around the room before giving her a sympathetic smile. “No. I’m sorry but we do not have any balloons.” The frown on her face is a little sad and the tears that form make you want to go buy her a balloon from the store.

“How about this….” You grab a glove from the counter, then hold it up to your mouth as you blow as hard as you can into it. It’s not easy and it doesn’t get very big, but the smile on her face is worth it as you tie it up and hand it to her.

While you're grabbing something from the desk, she drops it on the side of her bed, and tears fill her eyes again as she tries to get up- which is more like her flopping her body to the side. You look at her, rushing to her side and gently pushing her to lay back down with a chuckle. “And where do you think you’re going missy?” She groans, pointing to the floor. A tear falls down her face, but they stop the moment you pick it up and hand it back to her.

“Alright honey, let's get you into the wheelchair.” You begin helping her sit up and then stand up fully, but she shoves your arms off and gives you a lazy scoff as she mumbles, “I’m a big girl. I can do it myself.” You giggle, watching for a second as she wobbles and then looks back to you. “Why aren’t you helping me?” “You told me not to!” “You’re a mean doctor!” You laugh even harder, placing one of her arms over your shoulders as you help her sit in the chair.

When you go to put her feet in the stirrups, she mumbles something incoherent before tapping your shoulder. “Why are you taking my legs doctor lady?” You snigger. “I’m not stealing them, I'm putting them in the stirrups so they don’t drag on the floor and hurt you honey.” She doesn’t seem to understand you as she groans once again and taps your shoulder again. “I need those! I’m a superhero! I need those to save the world!” You finish putting her feet up correctly and then nod. “You’re right. My bad sweetie.” She huffs and nods like you finally said something correct and then grins at you. “What are you grinning at?” “You’re pretty. Are you single doctor lady?”

Her words take you by surprise, and you look to the window to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Yes. I am single. Why do you ask honey?” “Because I wanna take you out to dinner obviously!” “Obviously.”

You're cleaning some of the tools when she suddenly says, "I like woman and men. Women are pretty don't you think?" You chuckle. "Yes I think women are pretty."

She doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and you're sure it's because she’s fallen back asleep until she speaks with a giggle, “Look!”

You look away from the file you were reading to look at her, and you watch with wide eyes as she sends a ball of red magic crashing through the window. “Wanda!” Her eyes also widen, and tears fill her eyes as she pouts. “I…..I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to yell okay? But that’s dangerous. Don’t do it again.” The smile is immediately back and she forms another red blast which you quickly place your hands over to stop. “No.” She nods. “No.” She repeats which makes you instantly melt.

A few minutes later, her friend reappears and asks Wanda, “So did you ask?” The younger girl frowns in confusion as do you, and the redhead woman smirks at you. “She told me with her mind while I was on a date that she wanted to ask you out. Did she do it?” You feel a warm blush coating your cheeks as you shake your head. “Kind of. She’s very high. I didn’t think she meant it. And besides, I don’t date patients.”

She nods, taking the handles of the wheelchair and beginning to wheel the young girl out of the office. Before they reach the door, Wanda calls out quite loudly, “Send me your maple syrup recipe, pretty doctor lady!”

They continue walking out of the medical wing, and you're left with a permanent blush on your face as you think about Wanda Maximoff.

That night, you’re laying in bed when you get a text from an unknown number. It’s three videos of Wanda, two of them her rambling about how pretty you are, and one crying because her friend refused to stop at the Mexican restaurant and get her a taco to blend into a shake. You laugh, looking at the last text that reads, “She literally cried in the gas station because she couldn’t find the toilet and didn’t want my help. Next time I’ll leave her with you until the anesthesia wears off - Natasha”

You chuckle, sending back a quick laughing emoji and asking how the young girl is doing. “She’s okay. She refuses to get rid of the balloon you gave her and will not stfu about you.” This brings a smile to your face and you text back and forth with the Avenger for a while before falling asleep with your phone in hand.

A week passes, and you text back and forth with Natasha at least once a day to check on Wanda. You have to admit that you miss the funny girl, but you're standing by the rule you made that you cannot date patients.

You’re leading a ten year old patient to his mothers car after his oral surgery when you see something that makes you smile in confusion. Wanda is standing up against a in the parking lot, seemingly aggressively texting someone. You help the boy into the car and watch the car leave the parking lot before going back inside. If Wanda needs something, she’ll come in and ask for it.

It’s only about three minutes before she does, and the cold air of winter enters the building as she walks through the main door. You’re standing at the front desk looking through a file with one of the nurses when she walks up to the desk with hesitant steps. “Wanda. How are you, dear?” She nods, babbling on for a second before she clears her throat and mutters, “I’m alright.”

You don’t have any more patients for a few minutes, so you walk around the desk so you're standing in front of her. “That’s good. So…..I’m not saying it’s not nice to see you but why are you here? Did something happen with your stitches?” She shakes her head, gently lifting up her lip to show you the still intact stitches that are allowing her gums to heal back together. “I’m here because well…..I chipped my tooth.” She holds a hand behind her back as she opens her mouth to show you that on the other side of her mouth is in fact a chipped tooth. You sigh, thinking over your schedule before you tell her. “Maybe I can give you a filling this afternoon. Come back at 1pm Miss. Maximoff.” She smiles brightly at you and nods, waving you off as she leaves the office. For someone who's afraid of anything to do with the dentist, she seems quite excited to have another procedure.

Wanda goes back to the compound to wait the next few hours, and when her best friend comes in to ask why she went to the doctors she casually states, “Because I chipped my tooth.” “What? No you didn’t. You would have told me and then I would have had to force you to go to the dentist.” Natasha laughs as she eats from her bowl of ice cream. When Wanda doesn’t respond, she laughs even harder and questions, “Wanda Maximoff, tell me you did not purposely chip your tooth so you can have more time with that doctor.” The witch groans, turning around to face her friend. “I used magic to do it so i didn’t really hurt!” She says it as if that's any better. “Wanda! You used your magic to give that poor doctor even more work to do?! Why can’t you just grow some balls and ask them out?” “Okay first of all, “grow some balls”? What are we, in middle school? And second of all, I will. Once I get my chipped tooth fixed.” “The one you chipped on purpose!”

Later that day, you finish filling Wanda's chipped tooth and then tell her, “The numbing gel will take a bit to wear off and then you may feel a bit of pain but not as much as you feel on your stitches okay?” She nods, sitting up in the chair and sending you an awkward smile. You lead her to the front desk, and leave for a few moments before coming back with a blown up glove. The child-like grin that shows up on her face is priceless. “Thank you!” “Anytime Miss Maximoff. Now, I hope you have a great day and watch that tooth!”

Now, when you said “anytime”, you didn’t mean anytime. Apparently, Wanda didn’t get this memo as she was back three weeks later. “Wanda! What a surprise! What brings you to my office today?” She smiles nervously, opening her mouth to show you the chipped tooth on the top row of her teeth this time. You sigh, already looking in the computer to schedule her an appointment for the next day. “That's two chipped teeth in one month. What happened honey?” She shrugs, thinking for a few seconds before she tells you, “I was eating a bagel this morning and it just suddenly broke!” “Right. Well, you can come back at 11am tomorrow and I’ll fill it. But you have to be more careful alright sweetie?” She nods, smiling at you before practically running out the door.

Over the next few months, you had Wanda Maximoff in your office a total of 13 times. You literally started keeping track. Whether it was toothaches, her habit of grinding her teeth, a chipped tooth, or to bring you lunch at one point, you talked to the Avenger at least every two weeks.

Today, it’s been about a week since you saw Wanda when she came in complaining about a pain in her jaw. You begin to wonder how she pays for this many dentist appointments, but that thought is quickly resolved when she wrote you a check with a whole lot of 0’s without hesitation a few months ago.

Today, you’re eating lunch in the break room after giving a screaming 12 year old oral surgery and Vanessa comes in with a smirk. “Your girlfriends here.” “My girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend V.” She shrugs, pointing to the hallway which leads to the front as she teases, “The woman that comes in with a different tooth problem every few weeks- which is much more than anyone should have to go to the dentist by the way- isn’t your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes and stand up, but you can’t help the blush that grows on your face as you think about the Maximoff girl. “Shut up V.”

You walk to the front of the office building with your salad in hand, smiling brightly as the back of the redhead who's sitting in a chair reading a magazine. “Hey witchy. What brings you here today?” She stumbles off the chair and grins at you. “Hi! I’m here because……because…..because my friend chipped a tooth!” A man with blond hair and big strong arms looks up from his book and gives the girl a confused look. “No I didn’t-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan and brings a hand up to hold his cheek. “What the hell Wanda?” You stare at the pair for a few seconds before he suddenly narrows his eyes as Wanda and states. “No way. I’m not letting you do this anymore.”

Her eyes widen, but it’s too late to do anything as he tells you, quite loudly might I add, “Wanda has a crush on you but has been too baby to say anything so she's been using her magic to fake tooth injuries!” You're silent for a few minutes, and Wanda seems to be getting more nervous by the seconds as she won't make eye contact with you.

Suddenly, you begin to giggle, which turns into a chuckle which turns into a full on laugh. There's only one patient other than them here and he looks up at you weirdly as you practically stop breathing with laughter. Wanda begins to nervously chuckle, still not making eye contact with you as she asks, “Wha- um…what's funny?”

You stop laughing, taking a bite of your salad as you tell her, “Well Wanda Maximoff, I’ve been flirted with a lot of times by patients, but never once has a patient faked an injury and actually gotten away with it. Props to you honey.” You hold your hand up for a high five, and she awkwardly high fives you. “Along with that, never once has it worked. Their flirting I mean.” “And mine didn’t either?” You sigh, looking to the front desk where all the nurses and doctors are watching you. “Go back to work!” you mouth (not that any of them listen though). “Wanda….sweetie…..I don’t date patients.” She sighs, nodding her head as her friend rubs her back reassuringly. A pen is thrown at your head from one of the other doctors making you silently groan and rub your head. “But….”

Her head snaps up and a hopeful grin takes over her face. “But?” “But if you wait 6 months for our doctor patient relationship to be terminated, I’ll let you take me out on a date.” If possible, her smile gets bigger and she nods, sticking out her hand for you to shake. “Deal?” “Deal.” You shake her hand, but you're quickly pulled into a bone crushing hug.

Wanda Maximoff is an interesting girl. You knew that when she came in for her first appointment a blew a hole through the office window, or when she kept breaking tooth after tooth. There's nothing wrong with being interesting though, as it just gives you a million other things to learn about the girl. Which you did over time when her patient doctor relationship with you finally terminated and she took you on a total of six dates in one month. You learned she's a romance girl, which only continued the longer you guys dated. You learned she cries over dog movies even if they have a happy ending, you learned about her brother Pietro and that every year on the night before their birthday, she sits outside with two plates of cake- one for her, and one for him- as the clock strikes twelve. You learned she loves cooking and baking, and that she can’t paint to save her life. She has flaws, and she's not afraid to admit them as long as you're not afraid to admit yours. And that's only a few reasons why you love her.

#marvel x reader #marvel x you #fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #the scarlet witch #the scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff x you

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loneliestluvr · 6 days

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𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊.

i. ii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warning: depression, worthlessness, cauldron trauma, angst, that’s kinda it for now tbh.

Word Count: 1.9k

taryn thinks: ive been thinking about eris vanserra for a long time and reading lost bonds by @readychilledwine about tamlin kind of gave me some inspo and motivation i haven’t had in a while to write this. also ttpd because ive been down in the dumps and feeling angsty so… enjoy!! 🫶🏼 i apologize if it’s a bit scrambled lol, i just wanted to write it out.

The fabric Nuala and Cerridwen had dressed her in erased any and all traces of the truth. The destitute it had felt her life became since this newfound immortality ripped everything Blair Archeron had ever known away from her, tucked away. Hidden behind the gauzy chiffon.

There had been small pockets of awareness, of feeling like she had control over herself lately. Where she didn’t rot away in bed, or a chaise— alone and wrapped in the quiet of her mind. Staring into open space, ghosting through whatever this life was.

Those times were hard to come by, and even when the war against Hybern was raging it was decided Blair would stay safe in Velaris. Where she had always remained. Where she did not leave, until today.

It was a pointed argument among their small circle that this life was no better than what Feyre had been through with Tamlin, but Blair did not fight it. Simply… existed inside of it.

It wasn’t that nobody tried to help, they did. They asked questions, gave the second eldest sister every chance to open up. To get out, to experience this new world. To talk.

Elain would argue even when she did, it was mere hollows of the person Blair had been who responded. The echoes that remembered how to speak, that walked so smoothly and carelessly that she seemed to float on a hot wind.

Blair was not fearless, she was not cunning, she was not soft, nor was she anything that her sisters were. She was simply… other.

And maybe that was the furthest thing from simple, that there were no words to describe the ethereal beauty of her hollowness. Maybe there never would be.

Blair didn’t seem to mind, and she got away with it.

Content was the feeling that seemed the most appropriate to describe the life she lead now. Moved into her youngest sisters River Home, with a large room at the end of the house overlooking the winding waters. The gardens Elain had crafted and tended when she wasn’t at the townhouse sat below, the large expanse of the land out to the river in full view. The snow capped mountains that danced across the skyline, one’s she sometimes watched Feyre paint in front of from her window day after day, month after month.

She supposed she had it coming when Nesta was forced to the House of Wind. When her older sister by a mere year had pointed out that Blair had amounted to nothing in the time Nesta had been taken hostage inside that House on the side of the mountain. When Nesta had been expected to work and be something, Blair had still remained as useless as before.

“She is adjusting,” Feyre had argued on Blair’s behalf. Blair had been the kindest of their sisters to Feyre when they were in that cabin, poor and broken and nothing. Who had helped with no qualms, who had genuinely cared for them all— even their seemingly worthless father. “—she did not ask for this, the same as you. At least she is not drinking herself to death.” The smartest of them, as Feyre had described to Rhys’ Inner Circle before those meetings in the mortal realm, others would have thought the same if they knew her before.

Before she became this… thing.

“You let her wither away, sitting about in her sadness and grief and her muteness. I would think she had forgotten how to speak if it weren’t for the utterly mundane responses she gives.” Nesta had barked back at their little sister while Blair sat by the window, unmoving. Her face a mask of cool indifference like she wasn’t quite hearing anyway. “How is what she’s doing any different than what I have? Because she isn’t spending your money? Because she hasn’t tainted Rhysand’s precious Court image?”

She didn’t care how they spoke of her, didn’t care to defend herself from Nesta’s forked tongue— it took more energy than she had to argue. Blair could have washed away right into the water that rushed through the river she stared into for all she cared.

Everything had just gone so… wrong from that point. As if Nesta’s breaking point was seeing her first baby sister be so broken and discarded, she had ripped into a secret nobody had even bothered to tell Feyre or Blair— that Feyre’s babe would kill her.

The rest had been a blur like usual after and here they were, dressed and gowned in the finest clothes they had. In the short time since finding out about Feyre’s deadly predicament, everyone seemingly had agreed with Nesta about Blair’s lack of presence in their court… or any at all.

The only people who knew she existed were those that were present when she was forced into the bitterly cold water of the cauldron. When it had felt as though she drowned, that she had died there and something else had filled her body. Felt as though she could only see herself from outside of her body, outside of whatever she had became.

Blair Archeron would be making her debut to the Court of Nightmares in the same fashion Feyre would be revealing her pregnancy. She didn’t know much else, didn’t care for the details or even why Nesta had been training in dances they both knew since childhood. Just what she was to wear and to come when called.

To admit the dress she was now wearing wasn’t utterly beautiful would be a disgrace in itself, and she looked stunning.

Despite her pointed ears being viewable, Blair’s long and heavy gold-brown hair had been curled gorgeously, cascading down her freckled and fair bare back to cover where her dress did not. Kissing and tickling the skin when she moved her head, half of her hair pulled back from her face into loose twirls and braids.

Her face painted in light cosmetics that she didn’t need. It was no secret that her beauty came first out of the four sisters, even before dear Elain’s— skin freckled, dark lashes and brows, cheeks usually tinted pink naturally. But her eyes, her eyes were the rarest of her sisters and what made her so profoundly different.

A base of that gray-blue that grew more vibrant as it met her pupil. But the flecks of nearly golden amber splattered like an artist had flicked their wrist in a rush is what made them so different.

Why the black of her dress fit her so much better than it did poor Elain, her second youngest sister nearly washed out by the bleak darkness she had been presented to wear.

The dress clinging to Blair’s torso was bedecked in gold sparkling beads that formed lines of detail along the bodice and the hem by her feet, the fabric black beneath it. Hugging tight to her figure. Eating and drinking had gotten easier after the war and had allowed her to fill out again.

Her full breasts wrapped tight to her chest where they sat prettily, the dips in her hips and waist outlined by the sheer sleeves that flared well past her hands, capped around her shoulders but left her back utterly bare despite the illusion of the chiffon looking like a cape.

The dress hung from her body as she waited almost carelessly to enter the throne room of Hewn City, and Blair felt a little like she might die.

The air here, anywhere, was so much colder than the sweltering heat of her bedroom where she kept the fire roiling day and night— where she felt like she was at home even if it was just in her head. Sleeping on the floor in front of it most nights, where the crackling of the fire could drown out the sound of her thoughts. Where the warmth could make her feel something other than empty.

Now. Feyre’s voice rang warmly in Blair’s head, echoing outside of the thick walls of forest she’d been taught to put up. Spruce and oak, winding paths lined with red poppy’s and orange geraniums, fogged over meadows to traipse through at will. A maze for anyone else, with no beginning and no end.

The rest of them had gone in a half hour ago it seemed, Blair to be used if they needed to pull a distraction or anything. She would be introduced no matter what, but timing was to be used as an advantage.

The towering doors to the throne room boomed open as Blair turned the corner to the hallway, the curls in her hair bouncing with every step despite the light wind billowing through her flowing sleeves as if she were gliding.

The music continued as she kept her head high and entered the space, hands folded neatly in front of her. A small upward twitch of her pretty red lips, her face calm and still.

Still as the room became when her feet hit the marble across that threshold.

She walked, one foot in front of the other. Head in a full fog before she even entered the throne room— but there was a tug. Something that had almost made her stumble, but she sucked in a tight breath as she focused on the dais ahead.

Pulling, tugging, a line going taut the closer she became and her vision cleared. Someone that had been in deep discussion before Blair entered, someone now turned to face her as everyone else did.

All but the Court of Dreamers gaping at her, at her beauty. So much different than her obvious sisters, a third sister to the High Lady of the Night Court, but so much the same that it was easily distinguishable. Gasps and whispers filling Blair’s now clear ears, but she didn’t look anywhere but the male in front of Rhys and Feyre— as much as she wanted to. As much as she pleaded with herself to look away, she could not.

The bright auburn hair, the pale and freckled skin of his handsome face. All fae were gorgeous, she’d been told and equally come to learn but… just the very look of him made her skin heat.

A look of something similar washed through his amber eyes, the matching amber to the flecks in her own, his throat bobbing.

Something like devastation went through this male and though Blair couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she finally made those last steps to the dais, she could see Rhys’ mask slip ever so slightly from the corner of her eye before it went back up.

There was a part of her, so enamored by whoever this person was— and something about him made her slip back into consciousness. That outside look at herself faded back into her own body and she didn’t realize until she breathed again that her heart had been beating so rapidly.

Or that she hadn’t addressed her High Lord and Lady.

Or that they’d demanded the crowd go back to dancing and drinking and eating.

Or that all she did was face this male, a look of shocked confusion painting her usually dull expression because somehow, someway, she felt like she knew him.

And that the tug she felt, that line, went utterly taut before him.

🏷️: @thehighladywrites and anyone else that wants to be added to a tag list for this or anything else lmk lmfao

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #autumn court #night court #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #rhysand #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x oc #oc #your honor i love him #me when mating bonds😦#cassian #Azriel #blair archeron

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a-boca-do-inferno · 1 year

Text

i’ve been losing you (michael corleone x reader) [request]

summary: Michael is used to a lot of things. Losing’s not one of them.

warnings: angst

words: 1.0k

notes: loosely based on ive been losing you by aha, and yes i kno i kno. another songfic lol enjoy.

This was long overdue.

They were meant to be in each other’s path, but not for long. She knew that. No matter how well they got along in the old days, rejoicing in that youthful love full of energy and innocence, there would always come the time when their personalities eventually clashed too much to make it work. His reckless and cold mind could never comport her sensitive and careful one for long. Gosh, how many dinner arguments had to happen to spoil the mood for her to just accept it already?

There was nothing left to do with Michael Corleone. He ran an empire, yet was clueless on how to keep the woman he loved close. And a king who can’t love a queen is simply no such thing.

(y/n) takes a deep breath and raises her fist to knock on the door, but as soon as she tries to do so, it opens on its own, revealing a somewhat disturbed Michael. He has a serious, almost mad look on his face, although his entire countenance manages to be cordial. She smiles faintly as he lets her in, closing the door behind her gracefully.

The girl walked into his office and couldn’t help but notice how tidy everything was. Nothing out of place, not a single speck of dust on any furniture. Sometimes she wished at least something was there; it’d make the place feel less...

Michael’s.

“Nothing”, she said, looking away when he seemed to disapprove of her blatant lie. (y/n) added, “there is nothing wrong, we just... We need to talk.”

“You said you were staying at you mother’s”, he begins, hiding his hand in the front pockets of his pants. “What happened?”, his tone is stern, as ever, and she can’t help but contain a sigh. (y/n) clasped her hands over her stomach, feeling a little cool. She wasn’t exactly there for some hugging and cuddling, after all, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Noticing the shift in her behaviour, Michael murmurs, “(y/n)…”, and the girl turns to face him. He wore a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His brown hair was brushed back, no unruly strands fell to the sides. He was so handsome and put together. How in the world did they even end up together in the first place? Michael’s eyes were a little concerned when he demanded, coming closer to her, “tell me what’s the matter.”

“About what?”, he gestures with one hand. “You’re making me worried”, she let out another deep sigh. This was going to be harder than she thought. Michael took an impatient step forward and gave her a questioning glance, lowering his eyes to her restless fingers. “Well?”

“I can’t do… this anymore”, she couldn’t face him, counting the scratches of the floorboards under her feet. “Us.”

There is a long silence before Michael speaks again. “(y/n)...”, he starts, closing the distance between them while gently taking her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles and she instantly flinched at the gesture, taking her hand back. He gave her a pained look. “What’s going on, darling?”

“Michael, please...”, she whispered, trying her best to maintain her composure. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“You’re leaving me?”, he rips the band-aid, and it sounds somehow even more painful when she hears it out loud. “Is that it?”, Michael insists, and she desperately looks for the emotions on his face only to find none.

This. This was what she couldn’t take anymore.

“I am”, (y/n)’s voice is final, as the lump on her throat takes a step back to give way for her assertiveness. That decision was made already, she merely wanted to let him know. “I know I’m hurting you, but you too know damn well there is no “us” anymore, Michael. There is only the family business, and I came to terms with it at last. I finally understood I can’t be part of this.”

“So, is that it?”, he repeats, but it’s clear he’s not looking for an answer. “You just wake up one day and decide to throw our family, our children, our love away? You just leave when it gets hard?”, he menacingly takes one more step closer, with almond eyes forcefully staring at the girl. “Is that it?!”, then it comes; the scream.

And the sound is so otherworldly coming from Michael’s mouth, (y/n) has to reassure herself of her surroundings for a moment, to truly know if this is reality. Then, after the silence, there is only his look of despair towards her. She knows him well enough to understand he is distressed but won’t allow himself to engage any further in that subject for now. He is too emotional about this. Perhaps that was why Michael kept away from her more and more every day. The Don wouldn’t have his heart dictating his actions, in business or in love, and the two were helplessly intertwined when it came to his life.

“I’m leaving”, she murmurs, holding her own body protectively. “You can visit the children whenever you want, we will be staying at my mother’s for the time being”, they exchange a piercing look. (y/n) avoids his eyes. “I love you, Michael, I truly do. But we both deserve better.”

“This isn’t over, (y/n)”, it’s all Michael lets out, while turning his back to light up a cigarette. He blows away the smoke and nods once, pointing to the door. “Go.”

She obeys him, because it’s so much easier to do so than to keep fighting. Before (y/n) leaves, she can’t help but think he would make her life a living hell. A shiver goes up her spine as the door shuts behind her. Michael Corleone may not be fit for a king, but he wasn’t a losing man either. She was painfully aware of that.

“God help us all”, she mumbles to herself, walking away from the Corleone mansion for the last time.

Or so she hoped.

#the godfather #michael corleone #al pacino #the godfather x reader #michael corleone x reader #al pacino x reader #the godfather imagine #michael corleone imagine

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obsessive-valentine · 2 months

Note

Just suddenly thought of it, but I'm imagining your Yan!Fae wants to increase the love between them and their lover (the lover will probably be colder after the kidnapping) and he started thinking of a way, What would it be like for a lover who wants to read books but the books in the library are written in a language they cannot read (I think every race or country would have their own form of writing). I think he will take advantage of that to get closer, like teaching them the words and then praising them (he intentionally kisses their cheeks).

Yandere!Childhood-Friend-Fae x Kidnapped-GN!Reader

Fae 100% have their own language and many variations so it can be difficult for a human to grasp, love this idea. He just wants closeness and to recreate the love he had from reader in his childhood but went about it the wrong way lol -let him try win your favour again ❤️

You wanted to hate him but you knew the person he used to be was still in there, you grew up with those eyes and that smile and a part of you missed him.

But his voice is different and hes dauntingly tall, he’s colder even if it’s unintentionally he’s not as relaxed and innocent as he used to be. You can’t bring yourself to think of him like you used to, he’s now your kidnapper who slightly resembles your beloved childhood friend.

Stuck in the limbo of not hating but not liking his presence, a indifference badly masking your fear and mourning for your old life. He could tell you were troubled and expected it from such a fragile human, you always were so empathetic and emotional as a kid.

Before he could begin recounting those memories he snapped himself out of it. “Not getting any damn work done” he huffed to himself before standing up from his desk making the dark wood chair scrape against the floors and closing the ink pot for his pen before leaving the room.

He found you sitting comfortably in one of the various lounge rooms of the house, this one you’d taken to most. The sofas were plush and the room wasn’t to big, the carpet and fireplace made it somewhat homely. He lingered in the door way watching you with amusement as you sprawled out on the sofa dramatically, staring at the carved details on the ceiling.

He wondered what you were thinking, you hardly talked to him anymore and tried to slip away from his company any chance you’d get. “Hello love” he started with his knuckles grazing gently on the door like a quiet knock in an attempt to not spook you. Your head tilted awkwardly to look at him with an expecting face “what are you doing in here?” He continues while inviting himself in.

“Nothing, there’s nothing to do. I can’t go outside without you, no sane person to talk to nor books to read” you ranted turning away from him once again, he let the jab about his sanity slide “Ive got a whole library” he replied plainly. You sent him a nasty glare but he stood unmoving just now with a slight grin sneaking on his face.

The smile made it blantantly obvious he was messing with you, you huffed and went back to looking at the ceiling. “Yes I know you can’t read those books but what I’m suggesting is I teach you” you didn’t bother look at him this time instead answering with silent rejection, you rather not be stuck in a room with your captor for hours.

“Suit yourself” his hand gently ran over your hair “I’ll be downstairs if you change your mind” he mentioned rather softly before taking his hand back and leaving the room.

...

That offer was sounding really nice after another boring hour passed, every evening he’d take you for a walk around his gardens but that was hours away and it felt weird and lonely that he was bothering you much less than usual. You knew deep down that he was playing yet another game with your head, making you come to him but you stopped caring about your dignity when the silence became deafening.

Slowly you tiptoed down the lush carpeted stairs and peaked over the banister during a moment of doubt, ultimately you decide to walk to the door. You didn’t knock, you became to nervous, instead you stood and peered into the crack of the door. Before you could turn around “you okay out there love?”

You pushed the door open fully, the book he occupied himself with was already closed in his lap and he sat expectingly. “Come here” he demanded calmly, when you were close enough he gently pulled you down into his lap “change your mind?”

“I’ll go mad if I can’t read” you replied bluntly. You are glad he didn’t push further, instead he sat back comfortably dragging you with him “The books I read are more academic, probably bore you to death”

He reached over to another book laying on the side table “-this book is probably easier to read, a fantasy” there were no other books in the room, you realised that he’d picked that out for you and was waiting for you to come to him. He’d predicted this and it made heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, it was frustrating that he’s always right and knows it.

He pulled it in front of you and began teaching you letter by letter and word by word. The whole time not letting you off his lap, it had been maybe 2 hours of repeating sentences after him, but it went by fast. You were so focused and quite comfortable.

So focused you you wouldn’t question it when his hands began wandering down your sides, or tracing your thighs followed by hums of approval. And it would only get worse as days went on quicks kisses on your shoulders then your nape, cheek and eventually grabbing you cheeks to kiss you on the lips.

That night after a walk and dinner he took you to pick out your own book from the library, and instead of going to bed and read his own book as you drift to sleep you both slowly read the first chapter together at candle light. He even rummaged through his draws to find a delicate metal book mark once you both decide to get to sleep.

...

At some point you’d gotten the hang of reading, but he wouldn’t stop there. No, he enjoyed having you in his lap while he taught you what each word meant or correcting your speech. Instead, one morning he calls you into his study and pulls you into his lap.

“You’re getting much better at reading, you’re going to learn to write it now” he left no room argument and handed you the expensive looking dip pen. He liked this activity much more because he had yet another excuse to touch you, for most of it his hand gently hovered over yours, correcting any mistakes. He would lean close over your shoulder so he could read what you were writing but really he’s just pressing himself gains you as close as he can.

You signed up for more than you realised.

#yandere oc #yandere #x reader #yandere fae #fae childhood friend

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 3 months

Note

Lol Ive got an Artoria Pendragon prompt for both saber Artoria and lancer Artoria. Where a previous male master of hers is summoned as a heroic spirit that she has a romantic relationship with that turned into a marriage after she stayed with him as a familiar after the grail war ended. She's constantly spending time with him and having alone time with him leaving the knights of the round confused on who reader are until they finally ask Artoria and she announces that That The newly summoned servant is her spouse and therefore her queen.

I went in a bit of a more... Chaotic direction for this then I intended...

Still, I had a blast writing it!

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

Mordred’s 1000 yard stare bored into the cafeteria wall, coming dangerously close to burning a hole through it.

At the most definitely not round table next to her’s, the knights of the round sans their king were drawing straws to ask Mordred what was wrong.

Now let us all pray for Gawain and thank him for his sacrifice.

Oh, now he was sitting next to Mordred with the same traumatized stare…

Then Lancelot.

Then Bedivere.

Then Tristan.

Then Merlin, who began to laugh his ass off as if he was in on an inside joke.

That left only Gareth, who, upon asking what cursed knowledge caused this, followed them promptly.

That cursed knowledge in question being this.

Mordred heard moans from the king's room, and the king telling the newest Caster of Chaldea “Don’t Stop”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Knights stealthily watched Artoria and you from across the room, a sense of impending doom hanging over them.

And that sense of impending doom was growing with every second as Artoria began to slowly and very conspicuously scoot closer and closer to you on the couch.

Eventually Artoria was sitting as close to you as she possibly could, a content smile on her face as she began to whisper something to you.

The Knights were quite concerned about this, but there was nothing they could do about it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Artoria eyed her knights conspicuously watching her as she stealthily slid closer and closer to you with each passing second.

She should probably tell them who you were.

Alternatively, she wanted to keep you to herself as long as she could.

Needless to say, she knew what option she was going with.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

This torture of the knights continued for a month.

Mordred saw Artoria share food with you, nearly killing her from the shock of it on the spot.

Gawain saw the king give you a secret kiss on the lips, causing him to faint dead away.

Lancelot has been into the infirmary for head trauma a concerning amount this month from slamming his own head into walls.

Tristan was mostly normal about all of this. Mostly.

Merlin was laughing his ass off.

Gareth had gone into overdrive with making food and sweets to keep her mind off things.

And Bedivere was really just still traumatized by the implications of what happened.

Eventually this all came to a head when Artoria had her fill of fun and called the knights to assemble.

After that things got… chaotic.

Especially when she explained that, through a surprisingly well thought out powerpoint, you were the Queen and then you popped in to say “So that means I’m your mom now Mordred! Technically at least.”

Mordred kinda… checked out after that…

Slowly things began to fall into place, but a certain flower mage wanted to keep his entertainment going for just a while longer.

So, Merlin being Merlin, asked “So then Artoria, how was it to have your bed warmed by your lover again?”

“What do you mean? We haven’t… wait… wait! Oh! HA! HA AHA AH!” you said before beginning to laugh, leaving the knights confused and Artoria blushing as you laughed while falling to the floor, unable to control yourself.

“T-that wasn’t… intercourse…” Artoria said before muttering something under her breath as you howled with laughter on the floor.

“What was that my king~?” Merlin cooed, a mischievous grin on his face.

This when put together with your laughter and her knight’s confused stares led to the inevitable.

Artoria cracked, and, much to her shame, told them exactly what happened.

“IT WAS THE QUEEN GIVING ME A SHOULDER MASSAGE!!!”

Artoria Lancer, unlike many of her other counterparts, can be rather… mischievous at times.

Not to the same effect as Merlin, but she does take some amusement at others' expense on occasion.

And so when you showed up one day and after all of the hugs, kisses, and crying, Artoria knew just what to do.

She was going to introduce her knights to their queen.

Eventually.

Until then however, well, Artoria was going to ensure her knights were kept on their toes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

First up was Mordred, and Artoria’s plan for her was simple.

A hickey on the neck, or what looked like one at least.

The reaction, to be expected, was Mordred completely breaking.

Second was Bedivere who showcased similar results after seeing her exiting your room.

Next up was Gawain where all she had to do was make a few implications to have him clutching at his proverbial pearls.

Lancelot was next, and he was a slightly tougher nut to crack, at least until she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Gareth simply received an off-handed comment from Artoria about you being “Someone rather important from her point of view.” This left Gareth confused for a few moments until the dots connected in the way Artoria had predicted.

Tristan was… already in the know… somehow…

And so, with all her little pieces of chaos sowed, Artoria sat back with you at her side and had some popcorn and a massive buffet of other foods.

However, she eventually ran out of food after… several months.

You were surprised she had that much self control.

You were also surprised when the knights of the round kidnapped you in a very dramatic fashion.

Bag over the head, handcuffs, the whole nine yards.

“WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH MY FATHER YOU HOMEWRECKING RIDER!!!” a very distressed Mordred shouted as she tore the bag off your head, revealing a room covered wall to wall in bulletin boards filled with pictures, red strings, documents and the other, equally distressed Knights of the round..

It seems Artoria’s little mischief has gone a *Tad* too far…

And now Mordred was shaking clarent in your face…

It is probably time to start talking, fast.

Then the door was blown off its proverbial hinges as Chaldea had sliding doors.

And there stood your one and only, Artoria Lancer, looking very, very irate.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One quick ass whooping later, the Knights of the round were sitting on the floor, lumps on their heads and looking very ashamed of themselves.

After all, they had just kidnapped the queen…

And that was a whole other can of worms for Mordred…

Nonetheless, the entire charade came to an end, and you were only slightly disappointed the amusing antics Artoria had caused were over.

Simply put, there is no pomp or flashiness when Artoria Alter is involved.

When you are summoned she is going to find you, kiss you, and tell everyone in no uncertain terms, that if they were to even think about touching “Her Berserker” she will use their head as a doorstop and feed their bodies to pigs…

After that, she refuses to elaborate and leaves, you following her closely behind.

This left a very scared Chaldea and a very confused Knights of the round.

This is because of the following.

They had just been threatened by a very, very scary lady.

Artoria Saber Alter had just walked up to someone and claimed ownership of them like a lost puppy.

ARTORIA SABER ALTER JUST KISSED SOMEONE IN A VERY PASSIONATE AND LOVING MANNER!!!

ARTORIA SABER JUST DID SOMETHING IN A LOVING MANNER!!!

So, the Knights immediately set to trying to track you and her down.

This took a lot longer than any of them thought possible seeing as the two of you had simply disappeared into thin air.

Then everyone heard a massive crash from the material storage room…

On that day Guda was to be found in the fetal position upon finding their entire storage of materials having an absolutely massive chunk bitten out of them when Artoria forced you to eat them in order to have you in your “Final Ascension” as Guda dubbed it. She did this because she wanted you in “The right clothes for my queen.”

This left the Knights in shock, however, Artoria simply went off gallivanting with you again instead of clarifying anything.

#fgo x yn #fgo x reader #artoria pendragon x reader #artoria lancer #artoria pendragon #artoria alter #artoria lancer x reader #artoria alter x reader #fgo #fate grand order x reader #fate x reader #fgo fate grand order #fate #fate go

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

Note

I would like to request something, More like a comedy/fun/silly request :3

So... Have you ever thought about how would Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust and Lucifer would react to their female s/o calling for them in a visibly mad tone for their complete name from the kitchen?? Maybe them knowing that they didn't thawed the chicken they try and run away from her but she teleports in front of them and tuggs them from the ear (motherly behaviors entered the chat) while saying something like

"Oh, honey, you're not gonna escape from me, and NOW you're gonna clean the house for ONE WEEK"

(in headcanon format please 😌) (also I rode on one of your posts that you got many HH and HB requests so if you wanna ignore this, go ahead I don't really mind, It's your decision ^^)

notes: OMG ANON THIS IS SO FUNNY! sorry this took so long btw, ive had so many requests to get through lol and this is a pretty difficult idea to actually turn into a writing piece, but that's what makes it more fun lol. and dont worry about the too many requests about HH! I just thought it was interesting that i had a lot of fans of the show lol. thanks for the request anon and I really hope you enjoy!! WARNINGS: I left out Lucifer because I don't know too much about him and kept the reader gn because Angel Dust is gay, so I didn't want to make it a female s/o. thanks for the request <333

ALASTOR

this man isnt easily intimidated by anyone

i mean he is the radio demon frrrr

but you?

oh this man is TERRIFIED OF YOU

not when you're lovey dovey, just when you're mad

which to be fair isnt often

but you went to leave the house and pressed a huge kiss onto Alastor's cheek before leaving. You told him that you wanted him to do the dishes while you were away and he gave you a thumbs up telling you that it would get done

but then you get home

and find out that not a single plate was clean

Alastor was relaxing upstairs and you were on the verge of losing

not helpful that you had an awful day on top of it

you called him by his full and complete name from when he was alive and while he was upstairs, he felt chills down his spine

he quickly ran downstairs and realized the mistake he had made a little too late

"do you expect me to do these, Al? you've been sitting on your ass ALL DAY, I am not doing any of this!" You pointed to the huge pile of dished and Alastor felt defeated

he apologized a thousand times and ended up getting them done both clean and fast in record time

and he bought you flowers to apologize

HUSK

you were at work when you remembered you needed the chicken pulled out of the freezer to thaw

you quickly texted husk and asked him to do it and all he sent was a thumbs up emoji

you prayed that he did what he needed to do

you got home in a very chipper mood from your day at work to find no chicken on the counter

you tilted your head and checked all over the kitchen

in the pantry, on the counter, in the cabinets, in the fridge

and finally

in the freezer

you almost lost your shit right then and there

you called Husk down to the kitchen and he walked in, picking at his fingernail before noticing you there

"hey babe, welcome home."

you crossed your arms and he noticed how pissed you look

shit

the chicken

mans went to run off, but you quickly teleported in front of him and grabbed him by the ear

"oh no you dont, mister. where do you think you're going?"

"to my room?" he tried, shrugging

"not on my watch. it looks like you're not only getting me dinner out tonight, but you'll be doing the dishes for three weeks now."

husk sighed, but agreed to your terms. he hated it when you were upset

ANGEL DUST

omg mans is a brat

let me tell you

you wake up in the morning smiling

like so happy that you had the best sleep cuddled against this softie

and then you remember that you have a super important meeting that day

and then you ask angel in the NICEST voice "do you mind getting the dishes out of the way today, love? I have a meeting today."

he shoots you the DIRTIEST look and has the AUDACITY to say "no. im not up for that. Im tired"

and turns away from you

you poke him so hard in the back

"ANGEL!"

"what?!" but he turns to you and recognizes that expression

mans effed up

he apologizes immediately and then tells you that he'll do them

he doesnt end up doing them btw

~~~~~

hazbin hotel masterlist | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for not wearing long sleeves? tw // self harm

recently i (20nb) had a particularly bad week and relapsed. i dont do anything that leads to any major injury but it does leave visible marks on my wrists.

after a few days i kind of forgot about them? i dont care about people seeing them all that much (obviously i do tend to wear longer sleeves to hide them, but theyre a part of me just like any other temporary scar. i dont bring them up ever i just let them exist. all this to say if i wear short sleeves its not the end of the world for me) and im in the middle of art school finals right now so hiding my scars is not my priority lol

recently i went out with my family (my mom [49f], my sister [16f] and my brother [14m] if it matters) to get haircuts. the haircuts are by a family friend (63m), and he is well aware of my mental health issues. once i got in the car, i realized that i put on a short sleeved shirt today. we werent exactly gonna go out and do stuff other than haircuts and burger king, so i thought it would be fine. the scars, at this point, have faded to nothing more than faint red lines and are barely noticeable.

long story short, my mom saw them and dragged me out to the car after our haircuts were done. once we got to the car she laid it in on me. she yelled at me, asking me things like "how dare you do that to yourself again", "how dare you show them off to [haircut guy]", "why did you think that wearing short sleeves was even remotely a good idea?". i tried to explain it was an accident, but she pointed to the scars and asked me how "that" was an accident.

i will admit that i didnt have a good answer for that and stayed silent. my mom didnt like that and accused me of everything from earlier again, and then marched inside for my siblings, saying she wasnt done with me.

im now back at my dorms after a very silent car ride. ive already texted my dad (49m) about the situation, who is backing me up, so hopefully the argument will resolve here, but judging from my moms visceral reaction, i feel like an asshole. the intent wasnt to "show them off", but i should have worn longer sleeves to hide them and make sure that i didnt freak out my mom. shes autistic and cant control her emotions very well (she hasnt gotten therapy for it) and she might have been stressed since ive had issues with sh for 7 years now and i was 4 months clean before i relapsed (and she mightve thought that i broke free of the habit).

... though as far as im aware, neither my mom nor my haircutter have had issues with sh in the past, and my haircutter didnt notice my scars.

sorry for long post; aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #self harm cw

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Note

when serial killers ghoap catch you and your friends camping in the woods, they tell you that they're going to have a little contest- the four of you will be set loose to try to run, and whoever evades them longest gets to live. (you try not to dwell too much on how confident they seem that all of you will eventually be caught) when the larger man in the mask says 'go' you run as hard as you can, all of your splitting off into different directions as you hear the cackling laughter of the man with the mohawk bounce off the trees. in less than five minutes you hear the worst screams in your life, and you know exactly who they belongs to. you keep running, muscles screaming and sweat pouring off of you, until you come across a giant hole in the ground. you carefully step to the edge and peer in- a punji stick pit with your best friend since 5th grade impaled at the bottom, lifeless eyes wide with shock. they've set traps in these woods, and as soon as the thought crosses your mind you hear another scream, further away, but instead of incoherent noise you can make out the words fucking bear traps look out they've got fucking bear traps before it's suddenly cut off. the silence is sickening. you carefully shuffle around the edge of the pit, eyes straining in the twilight dim for disturbances in the leaves the carpet the ground, trying to keep your wits about you. it's no good, out of nowhere you feel large, strong hands wrap themselves around your mouth and throat, cutting off the scream that tries to escape your body.

shhhh shhh shh, you win lass, good job bonnie, this way now, the voice in your ear insists as you're led back in the direction you were desperately trying to escape. he leads you back to a cabin, not uncovering your mouth until he shoves you to the ground in the little basement.

i thought the winner got to live, you say as you blink up at him.

oh, aye. never said where, though, did we? he laughs as the hulking frame of the skull mask man appears at the top of the basement steps, casually unzipping his fly as he stalks towards you.

the serial killer au ive got partly written is more of a most dangerous game au, but THIS one is soooo good too. anon you should write this and tag me in it so i can read it lol

"shhhh shhh shh, you win lass, good job bonnie, this way now, the voice in your ear insists as you're led back in the direction you were desperately trying to escape. he leads you back to a cabin, not uncovering your mouth until he shoves you to the ground in the little basement. i thought the winner got to live, you say as you blink up at him. oh, aye. never said where, though, did we? he laughs as the hulking frame of the skull mask man appears at the top of the basement steps, casually unzipping his fly as he stalks towards you." oh i am. i am having a moment. wow. this has done things to me that i don't know how to contend with

you've got this sick sense of relief that you're the final girl - you hate that everyone else died painful screaming deaths but... you didn't. only to immediately be confronted with the fact that "not dying" doesn't mean they're letting you go. they're still going to do horrible fucked up things to you.

johnny stroking his cock real slowly when simon ambles down the stairs, tells him look at our pretty little winner, si. gonna be a fun one this time. and all you can do is just stare up at them with glassy, terrified eyes. makes them even harder.

hnggg them praising you and offering like them fucking you is a reward. you worked so hard, did such a good job running and hiding, now you'll take your reward like a good girl. this is what you were competing for, isn't it? c'mon, stop whining like that, you know it's gonna happen no matter how much you fight.

#asks and answers #serial killer ghoap x reader

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nimbusghoul · 7 months

Note

"Long Distance Phone Sex" with Copia? eheheh

This was gonna be a really fast write but then i decided to take my time with it!! it genuinely turned out a lot better than i expected…

Prompt - Copia Emeritus

FANDOM : THE BAND GHOST/GHOST BC

PAIRING : COPIA/PAPA EMERITUS IV x GN!AFAB!READER

TYPE: SMUT

WC:

STORY BELOW THE CUT

Copia was always very easy to tease, especially in public settings. So when it came to being away from him during tours, It was so easy to have him all flustered and needy because he couldn’t get to you when he needed you.

Sending him nudes and sexts, and when he had free time to look he would leave you on read for a couple minutes, most likely trying to calm down his pathetic needy brain, being away from you for so long was hard, especially for him

‘Why must you do this to me when I cannot reach you?’

‘lol’

‘May I call you, Dolcezza?’

‘Ofc, Papa<3’

In the blink of an eye, his name popped at the top of your screen with an incoming call, you picked up, laying on your back under the covers as you put the phone up to your ear

“Amore, you know what happens now that you’ve got me all hot and bothered, no?”

“Of course, it’s my favorite part. It’s why I do it in the first place.”

You heard a sigh from the other end the closing and locking of a door “I presume you are alone? I do not think you would do this to me with others around, but maybe that’s just hopeful thinking.” He said, laying down on the bed in the hotel room he had for himself, as the ghouls enjoyed cuddle piling alone.

“Of course i’m alone, you think i would put you in a situation where you’d have to handle this yourself? I’m not that cruel.” You said, rolling over on the bed just a bit “So how you wanna go about your issue, Papa?”

“Well, I-I don’t believe we’ve ever had…Phone Sex? I believe that’s what it’s called..” He said, stuttering a bit. His pathetic awkwardness was always the best part about teasing him, he was so damn easy to fluster.

“Well, you’re right, but is that what you wanna do?” You asked, trying to be sure that he was actually willing to do something so erotic with the thin walls surrounding him.

He was quiet, but only for a bit “Sí, Amore. I want to hear you touch yourself.” He said huskily, the small rasp in his voice sending a shiver down your spine

You felt your heart jump when he let out a small weak laugh “I wish I could be with you, Amore. I would want nothing more than to kiss you all over until my lips are sore, I hate to say I am glad we will be home in a couple days. You are my great temptation, any longer without you and I would lose my head. When I get home, I promise I will make up for all of the lost time, and perhaps if you push me in the right direction, lost touch as well.” He said, his small smile clear in his voice.

“Even when you’re rock hard you’re romantic, huh? You’re so cute.” You said, gently opening your bedside drawer and pulling out your wireless bullet vibe

“Ah- mmm…Dolcezza…” You heard his breath hitch a bit, a small chuckle coming from him “Is it alright if I wish to be a bit impatient?”

“Of course, Copia. I’ve been teasing you slowly for a while now. Do you still have your pants on?”

“To my dismay, yes.”

“Aww, you poor baby. If you need it that bad, you know you can always start whenever you’d like”

“I wanted to wait for you, Amore.”

“mmm that’s sweet, always so thoughtful, even when i’m teasing you to death.”

“Mmm, only for you. But I have to get these off, I do not think I can wait, scusi.(sorry)” You heard the unzipping and then a large sigh come from the other end.

“I assume you’re already leaking for me, honey?”

“Hah, very much so, I will have to make sure i put some soap on the stain to get it out when I do laundry.” He chuckled lightly, you then heard the small sigh he made as he gently slipped his pants off

“Copia~, Don’t worry about things like that right now, I wanna make this fun, tell me what to do.” You said, giggling slightly as you heard him stammer a bit

“Hmm…Well, I don’t want to punish you too much, but I do want to tease you fairly.”

“Fair enough, start with one slow finger?”

“You know me too well, it’s like you read my mind”

His statement made you giggle, you slowly inserted a finger inside, your folds overflowing with your arousal already, you let out a gentle moan, not realizing how sensitive you were already, the teasing must’ve excited you more than you thought

“You sound beautiful, Dolcezza”

“Don’t flatter me yet, we haven’t even gotten started.” You said, smiling gently, letting out hot breaths as you gently dragged the tip of your finger up and down your folds, you heard a slight groan of satisfaction, his gentle panting carrying through the phone

“Go on and add another finger, I want you to make more of those beautiful noises, I cannot get enough of the sounds you make, Dolcezza.”

“Yes, Papa.” you said, your voice shaking lightly as you put another finger in, you felt yourself tighten every time he made a noise, as if begging to squeeze around his cock.

“Give your clit some attention, Amore.” He said, panting lightly through the phone accompanied by groans and hisses of pleasure “you have no clue how hard that text got me, you are lucky that we were sitting down or i would’ve been humiliated.”

you moaned gently, fingering yourself to the sound of his voice and the images conjuring in your mind “isn’t that the fun part of it? The thrill? it’s like less taboo exhibitionism.”

“I cannot wait to get home and get to feel your beautiful body up and down, and make sure you haven’t forgotten how much you mean to me, and how much you belong to me. I am aching to finger you roughly until you orgasm over and over, mi amore. To fuck you raw until you can’t make out words. I think next time you should come with me, so i don’t have to ache for you like this. So i can punish you in ways you deserve for teasing me so much. I long to see those pretty lips of yours wrapped around me, and soon I shall get those. Just a couple more days and i will be with you. But for now, I want you to rub your clit while you finger your cunt recklessly, push yourself to the edge for me.”

You did as he told, setting the phone down on the pillow next to your ear to use both hands, moans and whimpers leaving you as you imagined your own digits were his, his pale, boney knuckles hitting just right.

You curled your fingers inside, hitting that special spot that he would tease when he got the chance. He wasn’t about speed, how fast you can reach your release, he was about making it feel as good as possible, he was a very passionate person, even now, so far away.

Hearing him stroking his cock because of something you sent him, the things you said and the memories & thoughts of you, it only made you more excited, rubbing circles around your clit while you fingered yourself to the sound of his voice

You felt yourself tighten, making you feel needy, you sped up slightly, chasing that release you’ve just barely caught a glimpse of.

“Papa…i’m getting really close, is it okay if I cum?”

“Of course, i am close as well, we shall do it together, mi amore.”

Your legs shook as you drew closer and closer to the edge, letting out a whine-like moan that was a tad louder than you had expected as you finger fucked yourself through you orgasm, listening to his slightly choked moan as his release followed quickly after yours,slowly coming down from your high, feeling a big giddy, you gently removed your fingers, going to wipe them off when you heard him speak again

“Dolcezza, Taste yourself for me.”

The request was a little sudden but you obliged

“yes, papa.”

you said as you gently slipped your digits into your mouth, doing simply as he asked, then once your fingers were licked clean you gently wiped them off on a towel, clearing the saliva to pick up your phone

“Well, did i finish what i started?”

you said, with a small giggle as the post-orgasm giddiness bubbled up inside, causing a small chuckle from your other half on the other side of the phone

“Yes, amore, you definitely satiated the hunger that you caused, but i do still miss you. I cannot wait to be home, even just to cuddle. I hope you expect me to be a bit ah…clingy.. when i return to you.”

“Maybe it’s what i’m hoping for?”

you said with another small giggle, causing another chuckle from him on the other end

“I love you so much, Tesoro.”

“I love you too. I can’t wait to see you. Get some good rest after that, okay?”

“Of course. I will call you when I find the time in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Night Night.”

The call ended and you gently put your phone on charge and slipped on some clean clothes, jumping back into bed and curling up in the covers, and gently drifted off to sleep, excited for the day in which Copia would return to the ministry.

Another one done!💚💚

so happy with this one actually

but i will get a word count on both fics!!

i’m also working on my master list rn like i’m working on SO much rn

pls send me some more asks so i can stay occupied during vacation 💚

if you liked this pls reblog and follow!! i post more like this!!💚💚

#ghost band x reader #ghost band smut #ghost bc x reader #ghost bc smut #copia smut #ghost copia smut #nimbusghoulwritings #papa iv x reader #papa iv smut #copia emeritus smut

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builtbybrokenbells · 4 months

Text

Catch-22 | iv

Sometimes new beginnings are really just the same old story hidden in disguise.

Masterlist

Read while listening: harvest moon - neil young

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, car sex, fingering (f!receiving), mentions of oral (f!receiving), praise, possessiveness/jealousy, biting, lots of dirty talk, mentions of masturbation, mentions of hookups/casual sex, name calling, drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of cheating/cheating, arguing, swearing, fighting, mentions of breakups, crying, general angst/sadness, anxiety, sorry if I miss any!

i hate to say finally…. but finally some smut lol. sorry for the wait, and thank you for sticking around 🫶🏻 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (lightly edited, my apologies 😘)

“Where is my curling iron?” You exploded, pushing open the bathroom door with enough strength to knock it off its hinges. Your eldest sister peeked her head around her open door, looking at you with concern.

“Why are you screaming?” The house was full after months of the upstairs bedrooms being mostly vacant, and it had done nothing but cause chaos. Things were constantly getting lost, there was never any good food in the fridge, and it was beginning to feel like you were in high school all over again. As nice as it was for the first few days of the reunion, it was beginning to grow old. Brooke was back from her graduate studies for a few weeks to celebrate the holidays just the same as you, and Ellie was on Christmas break from high school. With all of you home constantly and nowhere to go, tension was begginning to rise at an alarming rate.

“I have somewhere to be in half an hour, and I can’t find it anywhere!” You explained, stress eating away at you.

“Did you have it in your room or the bathroom?” Brooke asked, now stepping out to join you in the search.

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.” You sighed, running a hand through your freshly blowdried hair. Brooke stepped towards the bathroom just as Ellie’s bedroom door opened. With a confused stare, she tried her best to piece together the cause of the commotion.

“Here!” Brooke called, sticking her arm out of the door, holding the exact thing you were looking for. With a sigh of relief, you grabbed it from her with a smile.

“Thank you.” You breathed.

“What’s got you all riled up?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“She’s got a date!” Ellie called out, rushing to join in on the conversation. Brooke raised an eyebrow, now curious about your plans for the night.

“Not a date!” You corrected, giving your youngest sibling a glare as you searched for the outlet to plug in the curling iron. “Dinner, and a very platonic one at that.” Ellie leaned against the doorway as Brooke hoisted herself up on the bathroom counter, both of them unwilling to retreat back to their rooms just yet.

“I wouldn’t be this worked up over dinner with a friend.” Brooke chuckled, looking through your makeup bag. “This is cute, where’d you get it?” She pulled out a lipgloss, inspecting the label.

“I’m not worked up,” You snipped, running a comb through your hair. “I just don’t want to be late. And I got it for my birthday, I don’t know where it came from.”

“Your friends have good taste.” She hummed, dropping it back in the bag as she continued looking through the rest of it. “Who’s your strictly platonic friend that you’re terrified to keep waiting?”

“No one you know.” You huffed, clipping the top section of your hair back. Ellie cackled at your dismissal, not willing to let you get away with such a lie.

“It’s Sam.” Brookes eyes widened as her head snapped up in your direction.

“Ellie!” You hissed.

“Sam Kiszka?” Brooke pressed, her eyes never leaving your face. “I never thought that would happen again.” Your face burned red, embarrassed and annoyed at their persistence.

“Nothing is happening, not now, not ever. It’s just dinner, catching up with an old friend. After this, we’ll probably never see each other again.”

“Uh-huh,” Brooke gave a slow nod, not believing a word you said. “Be careful, squirt. He’s notoriously good at breaking your heart. I don’t want to see you go through that again.” Your lips tightened as you held back a grimace, her reminder doing nothing but resurfacing an old ache in your heart that you’d worked hard to cover up.

“He can’t break my heart if he doesn’t have access it, and he most certainly doesn’t now, nor will he ever.” You muttered, wrapping your hair around the metal barrel of the curling iron. Brooke gave a slow nod, watching you struggle to keep the lock of hair in place. When it fell from around the iron for the third time, she rolled her eyes, slipping off the counter as she extended her hand towards you. “What?” You asked, looking at her through the mirror as you tried again.

“Let me do it.” She said, her tone soft and much more caring than usual. She would never say it, but every time Sam broke your heart, hers broke for you. She had her fair share of misery at the hands of boys, but never had she seen someone hurt another person so extensively. She had no idea why you were so drawn to him, and in turn, why he was so fascinated with making you fall for him only to throw it all in the garbage, but she was at peace with the fact she never would. Nobody else needed to understand the nature of your relationship, because it was yours and yours alone. As a sister, it was her job to call you stupid first and then comfort you through it later. She did her job well, and she would continue to do it for the rest of her life.

“Thanks.” You sighed, watching her curl the long locks of hair with ease. She grabbed a few clips from the counter and clipped the curls as she worked, choosing not to acknowledge your appreciation. Ellie took Brooke’s place on the counter, now taking her own turn to inspect your makeup bag.

“Has he changed?” Brooke asked, her stare fixated on the iron. She refused to look up and catch your gaze, fearful that you might see the apprehension in her eyes.

“I hope.” You shrugged. “He seems like he’s grown up, but every now and then, I see the same old Sam in his eyes when he looks at me for a minute too long.” You said, your own eyes fluttering towards the sink. “I’m not the same person, though, and I think that’s the difference. He doesn’t know me anymore, and he doesn’t have any power, either.” You were lying with a ferocious intensity, but nobody was willing to call you out on it. If there was one thing Sam knew, it was you; it did not matter if continents and oceans were between you, and not even if decades and centuries separated you from each other. It was a violent act of the universe to place someone with so much power over you directly in front of you, and you prayed that if his power had not lessened, your immunity to it had grown.

“And you’re sure that this is a strictly platonic event?” She said, moving on to the upper portion of your hair.

“Yes.” You assured her. “I made that very clear.”

“Good, because if you’re uncertain about that, he’ll pick up on it. They always do.” She did not hate Sam, and she never had. She hated the way he treated you, and she hated the way he promised things he could not do for you. Brooke found the Kiszka’s just as charming as you did, and she was no stranger to the difficulties of loving them. She had a brief history with Jake after the summer of her senior year, and they broke each others hearts more than you and Sam had ever done to each other in your entire lifetime. If she told you she was going to dinner with Jake, you would likely have the same reaction. “Is Josh home, too?” Her intentional exclusion of the other twin was duly noted, but it seemed as though all three of you had no interest in calling each other on your bullshit.

“Yeah, I saw him at the bar the other night. I didn’t talk to him, but I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She gave a dry chuckle at the formal response, but she did not believe you one bit. Josh felt for her the same as she felt about Sam.

“Leave these in until you’re ready to go.” She said, clipping the last lock of hair to your head. “If you don’t, you’ll ruin them.”

“Okay.” You nodded.

“I’ll get you a nice dress.” She said, patting your shoulder as she left the room. You knew her gestures were sympathetic, but you had faith in yourself to stay strong and refuse to give in to temptation. You had to, because you feared if you allowed Sam to break your heart again, you would never recover from it. While you waited for her to come back, you put on some foundation and dusted blush across your cheeks. You applied some light eyeshadow and mascara before swiping on a thin layer of lipgloss. By the time you were finished, Brooke had long returned and was lost in chatter with your youngest sister.

You picked up the dress from the counter, inspecting it closely. It was a simple one, but stunning nonetheless. You were grateful for her charitable contribution to your not-date, and you disappeared into your room to change. When you joined them in the bathroom, you held your arms out by your side as if to ask them what they thought. “You look beautiful.” Ellie gushed, always supporting you no matter if your decision was stupid or not.

“Thank you.” You breathed, beginning to unclip the curls from your head. When all of the pins were discarded in their place, you combed your fingers through the strands of hair and sprayed a touch of hairspray to keep it in place. Just as you set the can down, you heard your mother calling your name from the bottom of the stairs. Your heart sped as the anxiety began to creep back in. Ellie took to the closet, throwing a bottle of perfume at you, and Brooke searched a drawer for deodorant. As much as your sisters got on your nerves, they were your best friends in the whole world, and you knew that they would always have your back. When you were certain you were ready, you rushed to your room to grab a jacket and your purse. The other two met you in the hallway, ready to see you off.

“Have fun.” Ellie grinned.

“Be safe.” Brooke warned. “And smart.”

“I will.” You took a deep breath, trying to settle the shaking of your hands and your restless head.

“Can I come and say hi?” Ellie asked, hoping for a yes. She missed Sam, but not enough to overstep your boundaries. You couldn’t blame her for wanting to see him; he’d been nothing short of an older brother to her for years.

“F’course, bug.” You looked to Brooke, wondering if she would join. With a reluctant nod, she silently told you she’d follow. With little courage and a lot of heart, you took a step towards the stairs. You could hear joyful chatter sound from the kitchen, knowing that your mother had likely trapped Sam in an unavoidable conversation. When you stepped foot on the ground floor and peeked your head into the room, Sam seemed to immediately feel your presence. He looked to the stairs, giving you a smile that instantly warmed your heart and sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. You broke your stare from him, already regretting your decision to go out with him. A simple shared gaze from Sam was more powerful than anything from another, and you were slowly realizing that his hook was just as deep in your skin as it was the last time you saw him.

“You didn’t tell me you were going out with Sam, y/n!” Your mother scolded, but her tone was light. She was elated to see him, and despite your years of tortuous love, she still adored him like he was her very own son.

“My apologies, I’ll be sure to put out a flyer next time.” You said, trying to keep your humour alive despite the fear brooding over your head. You took a step closer to Sam, and the cloud of despair only seemed to grow larger. He was dressed in nice clothes, clearly just as anxious about the night as you were. When you were close enough that you could catch the scent of his cologne, you nearly fell to your knees in grief.

Sam Kiszka had never been just a friend, and he never would be. Before he even said a word to greet you, you were head over heels for him the same as you were all those years ago.

“You look nice.” You mustered the strength to speak, your eyes glued to his face as if it were the force that held you to the earth. You feared if you looked away, you would float away and descend into nothing.

“So do you, Rapunzel.” He extended his arm, drawing you in even closer. You accepted the gesture, melting into his touch as he wrapped you in a hug. It was the nicest interaction the two of you had since your duly cold reunion. When you pulled away, a part of you ached to continue the contact. Your body had been longing for him since you left him last, and now that he was within reach, you never wanted to let go.

“Hi, Sam.” Ellie cut in, a grin eating away at her face.

“Hey, bug.” He greeted her with just as much enthusiasm. “You’re all grown up now.”

“So are you.” She shrugged, chuckling at his surprise.

“Come here.” He beckoned her towards him for a hug, which she accepting happily. “How’s school going?”

“It’s high school.” She said, not knowing any better way to describe it.

“A little birdie told me that you’re the captain of the volleyball team?” He raised an eyebrow at her, curious to hear it from herself.

“I am.” She nodded, enthusiastic about the fact.

“That’s awesome, El. I know you’re going to do a great job.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, happy for the recognition.

“As much as I’d like to stay at talk all night, we’ve got a dinner reservation to make.” Sam said, casting a sideways glance at you. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, slipping your jacket over your shoulders.

“Don’t be a stranger, dear. We’d love to see you again.” Your mom said, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

“Of course.” He agreed. “It was great seeing you again.”

“Oh, you too.” She sighed, reminiscing on the younger days when you and Sam were too little to get yourselves into any trouble. “Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks, mom. Love you.” You cut the conversation short, moving towards the door. Sam was close behind you, allowing you to slip your shoes on before he moved any further. When you looked over your shoulder at him, letting him know that you were ready to go, he made a move to open the door for you.

When you broke out into the cool evening air, you were brought back to reality with a ferocious sense of fear. The bubble of momentary bliss that came from having Sam around you and your family was so intense that it allowed you to forget about everything else. His arms wrapped around you felt so good that you were willing to overlook every injustice that he’d committed since the very beginning of time. As he opened the car door for you, you hesitated as you got in. Even if it was nice to be around him again, you were unsure if you were ready to deal with the consequences if the night ended poorly. Loving Sam was a dream come true, but being heartbroken over him was worse than any other pain in the world.

Sam Kiszka would be the death of you, and the small town of Frankenmuth would serve as a catalyst for the bitter end. For some reason, you were stuck believing it to be the other way around. You were not ready to accept that Sam was your vice, and not your childhood home that housed all of the hurt behind the walls. The house held what he had caused, but it was easier to blame the inanimate rather than the beating heart that moved in time with your own. He was the one thing that was impossible to give up, and on your deathbed you would still be clutching the memories with a fervor that none could understand.

“I’m happy you agreed to have dinner with me.” His sweet tone pulled you from your internal struggle, drawing your eyes towards his face and cementing your body to the seat below you.

Dinner was definitely not going to be platonic, nor had the agreement ever been reached with the intent of friendliness. You were both head over heels for each other and were hoping to relieve the happiest days of your lives while ignoring the worst of them.

“I am, too.” You whispered, begging your eyes to look at anything other than him.

“I was scared you might change your mind.” He confessed, both of his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to ensure one would not find its place on your thigh. It was so easy to fall into routine with you; easier than falling asleep, and it was as dangerous as certain death. As badly as you feared getting hurt, he feared doing the hurting just as much. It was the worst curse in the world to only know how to cause harm to the person you only ever wanted to love, and it seemed like he was stuck with it. For him to blindly rekindle the love without first acknowledging the mistakes he made was reckless, and he wanted to show you he had changed.

“I’m surprised I didn’t.” You mumbled, finally freeing your stare from his face. You ran your fingers across the hem of your dress, mindlessly busying your hands so you couldn’t reach out to grab his own. The two of you were so similar, and the strength in which you felt for each other had never diminished.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He shrugged, trying to keep his eyes on the road. It was hard when you were sat next to him, because you were the only thing he wanted to look at. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” You said, looking out at the streetlights illuminating the dark roads. “It wasn’t for charity.”

“That’s good, I guess.” He chuckled, turning the stereo up ever so slightly. Your eyes flickered to the display, a fizzle of excitement growing in your chest. A small smile graced his lips, noticing the moment just the same as you did.

“Did you play this on purpose?” You accused, but the sparkle in your eye told you it was all playful.

“It’s the radio, Rapunzel.” He laughed. “I’m not smart enough to plan ahead that much.” You reached over, turning the dial up a few more notches.

“Sing it with me?” You asked, hopeful that he would agree.

“Always.” He assured you, his heart pounding against his rib cage as he anticipated the lyrics.

“Come a little bit closer,

Hear what I have to say” his soft brown eyes were staring straight into your soul as he sang. His fingers nervously danced over the fretboard, vibrating with fear but continuing with hopes of pleasing you.

“Just like children sleepin’

We can dream this night away

But there’s a full moon risin’

Let’s go dancing in the light

We know where the music’s playin’

Let’s go out and feel the light” he took a shaky breath as he prepared himself for the chorus.

“Because I’m still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon” you sang softly alongside him, adoration radiating from you and enveloping him in a cloud of comfort. He slowed his playing to a near stop, only the distant hum of the strings reminding you he’d been playing at all.

“Did you learn that just for me, Sammy?” You asked, your fifteen year old self never before being on the recieving end of such a romantic gesture.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, nodding his head. His eyes were still focused on his hands, almost afraid to look up at you. “It’s stupid, I know, but it’s your favourite.”

“It’s not stupid,” you shook your head, appalled that he would even think that “it was beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He breathed, finally finding the strength to meet your eyes. “I begged Jake to teach it to me. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but I couldn’t wait. I don’t know all of it, but I promise I’ll keep learning.”

“You’re the best, Sam.” You smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek in your hand.

“I love you, Rapunzel.”

“I love you more.”

God, how you wished it wasn’t true.

You were tired of living a lifetime where you always loved him more than he loved you.

By the time the song drew to a close, tears were prickling your eyes as your heart broke at the years of memories tied intricately to the song. He looked over at you, his eyes also damp with sorrowful reminiscence. “I haven’t listened to that song in a long time.” You confessed, a sad laugh sounding over the static hum of the radio.

“It reminds me of you every time I hear it.” He said, his eyes back on the road. It was not to ensure safety, but rather because he could not bear to look at you any longer without breaking down.

“Me too. That’s why I can’t listen to it anymore.” You bit down on the inside of your lip, stopping it from quivering from the tears begging to fall. “It’s still my favourite.”

“Mine too.” He said, pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. “Maybe it was a sign, Princess.”

“Maybe so.” You sighed, swiping away any evidence of sadness that slipped onto your cheeks. “Guess we’ll never know for sure.” You hoped to god that he secretly planned the whole ordeal, mostly because it was too hard to digest the truth that the universe would always force you two back together.

“Maybe it’s better that way.” He offered, parking the car and turning it off. You hated to disagree, but you knew better than anyone that the uncertain was always more painful than certainty. That was exactly why your relationship with him hurt so much. You never knew how it would end, or if it would end for good. Your entire story with Sam ended on a cliffhanger, and you did not know if your heart could handle another one. “You want to go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt. When you stepped outside, your bones were nearly aching from the cold air. Sam joined you by your side, wrapping an innocent arm around your shoulders to preserve any heat for you.

The outside of the small restaurant was covered in Christmas lights, all caked with a light layer of fluffy snow. Warm, yellow hues poured from the windows, inviting you inside with the promise of comfort. The open sign was flashing blues and reds at you, but the bulbs of the ‘O’ had blown out. You knew it would never be replaced; instead, it would be kept hanging and turned on (even in the darkness of the earliest hours, because someone always forgot to turn it off) until the very last light died. Even then, you were certain they would keep it there forever.

It was the fanciest restaurant on the downtown strip, but fancy in accordance to small town standards was nothing to call home about. The interior was nicely decorated, and the food tasted great (even if it was a bit pricey). They served good wine and had friendly staff, and you were content with his choice. He’d taken you here once before on a date, and you could recall it being quite enjoyable. Then again, time spent with Sam was most often spent happily.

He opened the door for you, allowing you inside first. When the door shut with a heavy thud behind you, he guided you towards the main room. He stopped at the front desk, letting the hostess know you were there for the 6:30 reservation. She grabbed two menus from her stack and guided you towards a secluded corner booth. You slipped off your jacket and placed it beside you as you sat down, watching as Sam did the same. They waitress asked if she could start you off with any beverages, in which you quickly asked for a glass of wine. Sam settled on water, knowing that he’d be driving you home. When she walked off to retrieve your drinks, Sam finally allowed himself to settle his focus solely on you.

“Josh and Jake are begging me to bring you over tonight.” He admitted, taking a quick look over the menu. “They miss you like crazy.”

“I miss them,” you chuckled, doing just the same. “Tell them they can always call me.”

“I think they’re worried about overstepping.” He explained. “Jake never really forgave himself for everything that went down.”

“It wasn’t Jake’s fault.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“I know that, but you know what he’s like.” He said, a grimace crossing his face. “He thinks that because he invited you, he hurt you, too.”

“He’s an idiot.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll have to go and see him, just to set the record straight.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged “he loves you just as much as I do. Just hurt him to see you hurting.”

“Tell him to blame it on his stupid brother.” You joked, sending him a smile, but he didn’t return it.

“He did that too, don’t worry.” He assured you. “They were pretty angry with me for a long time. I deserved every minute of it, but I don’t want you to think that they let me get away with it.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure of where to go from there. Part of you was happy that he received some sort of punishment for his behaviour, yet you felt guilty that they did so on your behalf and you never tried to stay in contact with them. There was a part of you that felt like you weren’t allowed to, that they were off limits and your relationship was only allowed to exist with them when you had one with Sam. Now that you thought about it, you realized how stupid you were for thinking so. The three other boys had been your friends for just as long as Sam had been, and you had punished them for a crime they did not commit. “I’ll definitely have to set that record straight, then.” He gave a solemn nod, pained at the memory of the look on your face that night. “Let’s put the sad stuff to the side, yeah? We came here to have fun, so let’s do that.”

“Yeah, okay.” He agreed, smiling at the waitress as she dropped off your drinks. “Is school considered a fun topic?”

“Depends; don’t ask me about my finals.” You joked, sipping at your wine.

“Noted.” He laughed. “How’s your classes, then?”

“Good.” You replied, still pondering your choice of dinner. “I took the big step and dived into poetry this semsester. Did you know that there’s so much to learn about writing pieces that take twenty seconds to read?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy.” He chuckled. “Poetry and music are pretty similar, right?”

“Yeah, I mean poems are basically songs waiting to be sung.” You agreed. “I wanted to wait until the end of my degree to get into it. Poetry’s always been my favourite, but it’s a lot to tackle. To me, it’s the hardest out of all the courses I’ve taken. I think it’s because it’s so emotionally taxing. The symbolism and the figurative language is really hard to perfect.”

“Harder than Shakespeare?” He raised an eyebrow, recalling his blatant distaste for the high school English courses that prided all of Shakespearean literature.

“I like Shakespeare, Sam. Not everyone hates it.” You reminded him. He raised his hand in surrender, showing you he wouldn’t argue it. “I only have three more classes to finish next semester, then the degree is in my hand.”

“You must be really excited.” He said, shaking his head in disbelief that time had stolen so much from him.

“I am, but not as much as I am scared.” You admitted. “I’m an adult now, and I have to get out into the world. I’m happy to have accomplished what I have, but I’m terrified at the same time.”

“This world has always turned just for you, Rapunzel. You have nothing to be afraid of.” He mumbled, his eyes falling to the table to hide the blatant love he held for you in his gaze.

“I used to say that about you, Sam.” You hummed, silently begging for him to look up at you. “The world can’t turn for the two of us.”

“It can.” He assured you, his gaze flickering back towards your face. “It has before, and it still can.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were asking me to try again.” You said, noticing your wine glass was nearly empty. You made it a point to place it further away from you so you wouldn’t continue to give in to the temptation.

“I’m always asking you to try again.” He chuckled. “Even if it is indirectly.”

“That would defeat the whole point of a friendly dinner, would it not?” You questioned, leaning back in the booth as you studied his face. He was so different; the version of Sam sat before you was different from what you’d always known. He was older, and maturity graced his features. In his eyes, there was emotions that you weren’t able to place. His mind was different, too, even if you had a hard time to imagine it. When he spoke to you, the boyish humour and mannerisms seemed to disappear. He was replaced with a man that could only be described as a familiar stranger, and it hurt to see it. There was so much to be discovered, and so many forgotten feelings you were desperate to remember. You wanted to know him in all of the ways you once did and even beyond that. Not knowing Sam completely killed you, and you weren’t sure if you could survive another minute of it.

“It would.” He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t bring it up first.”

“So you were hoping I would?” You pressed, folding the edge of your napkin over itself to distract yourself from the thud of your heart against your chest.

“I’ve been hoping for two years that you would ask me to try again, even if I knew that it was never going to happen.” He was not shy to admit that he hadn’t moved on, nor had he ever tried. Even if the world seemed to work against you both, he knew that there was nobody that could compare to you. The love you gave him was sacred, better than anything he’d ever felt before, and he would go to the ends of the earth to feel it again. Before you could respond, the waitress returned to take your order.

When she went on her way, the air was filled with an uncomfortable silence. You did not know how to proceed, nor did you want to. Instead, you did what you knew best: avoiding the imminent elephant in the room with everything you had in you.

“How’s living in Nashville?” He watched you, stunned at your eagerness to move on from the topic at hand. He knew that you weren’t interested in rekindling any old flames, yet he thought you would at least want to talk about it.

“It’s good.” He cleared his throat, nodding as he spoke. “It’s lonely, but it’s good. It’s hard being away from home, but I’ve got my brothers there with me.”

“I never really felt that way.” You shrugged. “I guess maybe for a little while, but I was so glad to get out of here that I forgot to miss it.”

“Did you forget to miss me?” He was pushing his limits, seeing how far you would let him go before you put a stop to it.

“No,” you picked up your glass, realizing that intoxication was your best shot at making it through the night without any hateful comments. “I missed you more than I care to admit, but it wasn’t a happy feeling. It was bitter and resentful, but I certainly didn’t forget to miss you.” You swallowed down the last of the liquid, placing the cup down with a bit more force than intended. “Sorry, Sam.” You sighed. “I’m trying, I really am.” You promised.

“I know.” He said, chuckling at your inability to remain harsh. “Maybe that’s what we need.” He theorized.

“What?”

“You need to get it all out.” He said, giving you a smile. “You’ve been holding on to it for too long, and it’s killing you. Tonight is about moving on, so do it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following.” You let out a laugh, confused about his intent.

“Tell me everything you’ve ever wanted to say. Be as mean as you want. I’ll sit here, I’ll listen, and I’ll take it. God knows I deserve it.”

“I can’t do that.” You shook your head. “The past is the past, Sam.”

“Clearly it’s not living in the past. It haunts you every single day.” He leaned in a little closer, drawing your attention even further. “You deserve this, y/n.”

“Fine, you want me to tell you how I feel?” You asked, looking around to survey if there was anyone else within earshot. When the coast appeared clear, you flagged down the waitress to order two more glasses of wine. “I’ll tell you exactly how I feel, but you don’t get to be upset about it. You never get to throw it back in my face, and you never get to say that I was being too harsh. You asked for it, and I’ll give it, but you don’t get to go back on your word.”

“Pinky promise, princess. Those are sacred, remember?”

“Pinky promise it so it’ll last forever.” You raised your hand to him, holding out the digit while you awaited his response.

“What?” He laughed, looking at your hand with curiosity.

“You said we’ll be together forever, so pinky promise it. They’re sacred, Sam. You know that.”

“I do.” He nodded, raising his hand and intertwining his finger with yours. “I’d pinky promise you forever, Rapunzel, because I’ll never want anything more than you.”

You recoiled at his words as if he’d struck you across the face. Just as you did, your beverages were placed in front of you and the intruder was gone in an instant. “That. That’s exactly what I mean.” You snapped. “That’s why it’s so hard to love you, Sam. You walk back in my life after two years of fucking misery, and you remind me of all of these little things I’ve been begging myself to forget.” You hissed, furious that he would even bring that up. “You pinky promise to love me for the rest of my life, and you fuck it up, every time. You say that I’m your soulmate, and that I’m the only thing you want, but sometimes it feels like I’m the last thing you want.”

“Y/n-“

“No, you said I can say whatever’s on my mind.” You snapped, cutting him off. “I have loved you for my entire life. Sometimes it feels like loving you is the only thing I know how to do, or that it’s the very reason why I was put on this earth. I have given you my entire heart and soul, and I have loved you like my life depended on it since the minute I met you. I don’t think it’s brash of me to say that I was allowed to expect you to do the same.”

“It’s not, y/n.”

“The first time you broke my heart, I was devastated. I thought the world was ending. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep; I spent every single night sleeping in Ellie’s bed because I was too upset to sleep in my own. I let you come back, I forgave you and decided it was for the best to move on, and then you did it again!” You smacked your palm against the table, all of the anger coursing through your veins too strong to keep locked inside. “I swore I was done, and I promised myself that I would never let you hurt me like that again. When we went to prom, I had to beg myself not to fall for you again. Then you showed up with your stupid smile and your pretty eyes, and I fell in love without even knowing it. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but you’re also the worst. You’re like an addiction that I can’t kick, and I want to hate you so much that it makes me hate myself for feeling something so vile.” You chugged down the liquid in the newest glass in front of you, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes.

“The third time, I was convinced that it was forever. It was so different from anything that came before, and it was the longest that we had ever loved each other without hurting. I was planning to move to Nashville just to be with you when I finished school, to put all of my plans on pause so I could watch you live your dream!” Your hands shook as you pointed a finger at him, making sure to perfectly portray your hurt. You were on display for everyone to see, your betrayal and mistrust loud and your broken heart placed in a glass box for all to witness. “I walked into that house that night with nothing but love for you in my heart. I walked down the stairs after driving for hours to surprise you. I squeezed my way through that crowd just to be greeted by your arms around another girl while she stuck her tongue down your throat. You can hate me for walking away without saying anything, because that’s well within your rights, but you do not get to blame me for how I chose to move on from it.”

“I never blamed you,” he shook his head, a grimace on his face and tears shining in his own eyes.

“I packed up whatever was left of my life into a box, and I went back to Michigan State with the intent of never stepping foot in this town ever again. I was determined to forget you, or at least to hate you enough that it overshadowed all of the love, but I couldn’t even do that. I watched your name taunt me through a phone screen every time you called, I tortured myself looking at old pictures every night, and I killed myself over and over again as I replayed every tear filled apology left on my answering machine. Your memory has plagued me for years, and your touch has seared into my skin so much that there’s nothing left but scar tissue, and you get to waltz back in here and hope that I’ll give in and love you again?” You asked, the notion incredulous and unsettling you to the extent of insanity. “You see me at the bar, and you think you have the right to speak to me? You show up at my house and expect me to let you inside? And then you have enough nerve to ask me to dinner and hope that I end up in your bed?”

He had nothing to say. Instead, his head was pointed towards the table as the weight of your confession began to crush him.

“Is it a game to you, Sam? Is it fun to lead me on and let me go? Like fishing, a catch and release? You only want me until the thrill wears off?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” He snapped, finally unable to withstand any more. “I have loved you just as much as you’ve loved me, for my entire life. You can accuse me of whatever you want, but you don’t get to accuse me of not loving you, y/n. I love you so much that it hurts, and it hurts me even more to know that I didn’t know how to love you right.” You sipped at your wine, washing the bitter taste from your mouth as he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to feel?” You rolled your eyes, finding his rebuttal weak. “You can’t say that you love me, then act completely different and expect me to believe you. Maybe I’m the idiot because I keep coming back, but I can’t walk away unless you let me go. This constant back and forth is going to kill us, and we owe it to ourselves to let go, Sam.”

“I can’t let you go, y/n, but you don’t get that. You just see me as the monster who wants to hurt you. We were kids when we fell in love. We loved each other without even knowing what that meant. I fucked up, and I’ll admit to that every day for the rest of my life, but I have never had intent to cause you harm.” He put his face in his hands, trying to wipe away the stress in his features. “It’s been two years. I live in a new city, and I have an entirely different life, but I still can’t seem to forget what it feels like to have you in bed next to me. I wanted to let you go, because part of me knows that it’s what’s best for you, and you deserve the peace after so much pain, but I just can’t do it. I saw you at that bar and I knew that we were there for a reason. Don’t you think after two years of nothing but silence, we should have made some progress? That we shouldn’t be this hung up on each other when we’ve been trying so hard to get over each other?”

For the first time since you arrived, you were too stunned to speak. There was no argument in your mind, because you knew he was right.

“I hate you, Sam. I hate you so much that it makes my head spin and my chest ache.” You muttered. “I’ve spent the last two years wishing I never met you.”

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.” He whispered, trying to catch your eyes. “But I love you, Rapunzel. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I'm afraid that if I let you walk away, I’ll wonder what life would have been like with you until the day I die.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You bit down on your lip, hiding the quiver that was taking hold. “I love you more than I could ever hate you, and that’s why it’s so hard for me.” You wiped away the tears littering your cheeks. “Every time I try to forget, I only ever seem to remember more. I will love you until the day I die, and I’ll still look for you even after death.”

“I’ve changed, Princess. I know you don’t believe me, and that’s okay, but you have to know that I’m not that person anymore. When I watched you walk away for what I thought was the last time, I knew I needed to be better, and not just for you, but for me. I can’t live my entire life hurting the people I love. When I saw you at the bar, I thought that maybe all of that work was for a bigger reason, and I finally had the chance to make up for everything that I’d done wrong. I couldn’t let you walk away without trying. I still can’t let you walk away without trying, so that’s what I’m doing. It’s not a sick game, it’s not a trick; I love you more than anything else in this world, and I know I always will.”

“God, we can’t do this again.” You shook your head, swallowing back a sob. He reached out, taking your hands in his. You hated that it immediately soothed you, the touch more comforting than anything you’d felt in the last two years of your life.

“We can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both! I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know anything! I came here tonight certain that I’d walk away with a clear head, but it’s only gotten worse. I thought I just wanted to be friends, but I know that when it comes to you, it will always be more.” You sighed.

“Look at me.” He pleaded, reaching out to guide your chin upwards. Your eyes connected with his, the tension between you two nearly too much to withstand. “I don’t know, either, but I do know that I have always loved not knowing anything with you by my side. I don’t need to know anything else, because when you’re around, it all makes sense.”

“Stop it,” you shook your head, but it was weak. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are.” You scolded, but you could feel a smile begging to break free despite your sorrow. Even when it was painful, there always seemed to be a part of Sam that made everything better.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grinned, happy to see a spark of your old self still remaining inside your eyes.

“Stop,” you warned, holding back a laugh. “We’ve already made enough of a scene in the restaurant. They’re never going to let us back in here.”

“F’course they will. They need the business. Plus, it’s probably the most exciting thing they’ve seen all month.”

“You’re terrible.” You scolded, a giggle stuck in your throat.

“You love it.”

“I do.” You hummed, already in too deep to back away. His claws were deep, and you were too blind to notice the pain that stemmed from it. The temporary euphoria was too strong to resist.

“I'd like to kiss you, Rapunzel.” He whispered, his eyes locked with your own. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I don’t think it’ll matter either way.”

“Only if you want me to, y/n.” You took in a long breath, unsure of where to go from there. After a moment, you gave a weak nod against the hold of his hand.

“I do, Sam.”

Not even the slightest hint of hesitation was in sight, and within seconds, he leaned across the table and his lips found your own.

It was not earth shattering in any sense. There were no sparks flying nor an eruption of butterflies, but it was familiar, and god was it comfortable. It seemed as though it was the very thing your body had been yearning for, and suddenly, the world seemed right again. The ache in your chest subsided, and the emptiness that haunted you was filled with so much love that it began overflowing. You didn’t care that you were engaged in a blatant public display of affection, and you did not care that you were both uncomfortably laying across the wooden tabletop to engage in the aforementioned activity. The only thing that mattered was Sam, and he was the only thing that had ever mattered in your twenty-three years of living. Even when he was hurting you, and even when you were miles away, your heart only ever wanted him.

When he pulled away, the grief from the separation nearly brought tears to your eyes. You had missed him so much that you weren’t sure you could handle missing him again, even if it was superficial compared to what you had been feeling for the last two years. He looked over your face, the same type of yearning you felt for him. In that moment, you knew that all of what he said to you had to be true, because it was impossible to fake the emotion showing in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, still dangerously close to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, your desperation evident, but little shame was to be found. With that, he sat back in his seat, pulling his wallet from his pocket and throwing a few bills on the table to cover your drinks and the meals that had yet to be served. He slid out of the booth, jacket in hand as he reached an arm out to you. You laced your fingers through his, grabbing onto your purse and coat as he pulled you to your feet.

In a mess of giggles, you both put your jackets on as you rushed out the door. You didn’t even care about the food you were so excited for, because your appetite for Sam was much more demanding. You were long overdue for a reunion, and the one you so badly wanted was not appropriate to be had inside a restaurant.

You could not even wait until you were in the car to touch him again. Before you were fully out of the restaurant, he was pulling you into his side, and before you had reached the vehicle, he had slipped an arm around your waist. He opened the door of the passenger seat for you, but before he let you climb inside, he pulled you into another kiss. It was heated, his body was pressed tightly against yours. The cold air could not even reach you, because you were too immersed in him. His hand was cupping your cheek, and his other had a firm grasp on your hip, holding you to him as if he was scared you would disappear. When you were both desperate for a full breath of air, he parted with great hesitation. He let his forehead rest on your own, not straying too far away from you in hopes that the closeness would make up for all of the lost time.

“I missed you more than you’ll ever know, Rapunzel.” He muttered, resisting the temptation to kiss you again.

“Me too,” you breathed, letting your eyes flutter closed. If you were not so aware of the effects of his searing touch, you would have believed it to be a dream. It would not be impossible for your brain to conjure such a story, mostly because you’d spent every night for the last two years dreaming to have him like this again. “We can’t go to my house. Everyone is home.” You chuckled, realizing that seclusion was near impossible with a family like yours.

“My family’s home, too. If I brought you back there, they’d never let you out of their sight.”

“We… we can go to our spot.” You said, almost reluctant to speak the memory into existence. It had been a long time since you visited, and you had already come to terms with never seeing it again.

“Okay.” He said, nearly brought to his knees by the strength in which he felt for you. He was almost surprised that you remembered it after so long, but he knew that if you felt even close to how he did, forgetting was the hardest part of living. In all of the time the two of you spent away from each other, not once could he remember what it felt like to be without you. No matter if it was years or miles separating you, the world was bleak without you by his side, and remembering with such clarity was the only thing that got him through it.

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one sweet and short-lived. He allowed you inside, and within an instant, he was in the driver's seat and the key was in the ignition.

You feared that the wine was clouding your judgment, or if the months worth of tortuous thoughts of him was driving you to make a decision that lacked any rationale, but when his hand slipped to your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance, you knew that being with Sam was always where you were meant to be.

The drive was silent, filled by the radio singing you songs of love and longing. The lyrics, although not always about the emotions your heart was feeling, seemed to twist and morph into a perfect descriptor of the love you had for him. You hated that no matter what it was, whether it be a song, a poem, a movie, or a couple sitting next to you on the bus, it was impossible not to see a picture of you and Sam, love struck and completely lost within each other. He was the whole world, and you just lived in it, begging him to be kind to you so you did not have to face any more tragedy.

He pulled on to a little dirt road, so secluded that the street lamps could not even penetrate the darkness. The headlights of the car did little for your visibility, but he had no fear of finding the place he’d missed so deeply. He would find his way back to it bloody and blindfolded, because it was the only spot where his heart truly felt at home. From the main road, there was a small cut off in the tree line. It was a trail so easily missed by those who weren’t looking, and it had quickly become your favorite hideaway. At the end of the narrow trail sat an opening. There was a plateau, dirt covered in a thin layer of snow that was fenced in by an old, rust eaten guard rail. Beyond the weathered metal was a plethora of trees that bordered the sky, and a clear view of the busy streets down below.

If you could go back in time and thank the curious teenage version of yourself for finding it, you believed even that would not be enough.

He parked the car and let it idle, fearful that the cold might claw its way into the comfortable bubble you’d grown inside of the vehicle. He looked to you, admiring your face that was illuminated by the extremely minimal daylight still hanging on to the bottom of the sky. The moon was overhead, the white glow casting a serene aura over the two of you.

“You know, I always said that I would ask you to marry me, here.” Sam whispered, wanting to look out at the breathtaking beauty of the landscape, but his eyes were glued on you. In truth, he knew that whatever lied outside the car window had minimal impact compared to the sight of your face.

“Don’t get any ideas, Kiszka.” You warned. Still, as you looked over at him with just as much adoration, you knew that if the words tumbled past his lips in a mess of anxious thoughts, you would say yes before he could even finish his sentence.

That was the horrendous thing about loving Sam; no matter how much he hurt you, or how long it had been since you were last with him, you always loved him just the same.

“You deserve more than a spur of the moment proposal.” He assured you, but did not deny the fact that he would still ask you to marry him given the chance.

“You don’t have to sweet talk me anymore; you already got me here.” You were captivated by his stare, unable to look at or think of anything else. The night was a whirlwind, and you had no idea how you ended up in such a position, yet there was a small part of you that knew long before you got in the car that you would end up immersed in him sooner or later.

“I’m not saying it to get what I want,” he said, pushing his seat all the way back. “I’m saying it because I want to, and because it’s true.” He extended his arm out to you, an invitation that you could not refuse. With his help, he guided you across the console and into his lap.

“You always know just what to say to get me to fall in love with you.” You said, raising a gentle hand to his cheek. As your fingers ghosted over the skin, you were struck with a type of longing that you could not even begin to comprehend. He was the same person who sat below you all of those years ago, with the same bumps and scars on his cheeks that nobody else had ever cared enough to notice. He had the same love in his eyes, and the same familiar scent that you could only ever describe as home. He was older, and so were you, but you were still the same stupid kids who fell too deeply in love.

“Why is it always my fault? Maybe I’m not doing anything at all and you just love me, Rapunzel, and you don’t want to admit it.”

“It’s easier to blame you than to admit that after all this time, I still feel the same way about you.”

“Then I guess I should start blaming you too, then.” He reached up, tucking a strand of your curled hair behind your ear. The night casted a dark shadow over your face, but not even the night could diminish the glow of your beauty. To him, nothing could ever outshine it. “I love you, y/n, and I never stopped loving you. I tried, but it’s impossible. This world is only worth living in if I get to love you.”

“All that song writing seems to have turned you into a sap.” You teased, but you couldn’t deny the swell of your heart as he spoke.

“I think it’s just you.” He admitted, his hand resting on your hip as he drew your face closer to his own. “All of those songs that I wrote always seem to come right back to you, Princess. You’re in everything I do, even if you don’t want to be. I can’t help it, and I can’t seem to stop.”

“Right now, I don’t want you to stop.” You chuckled. “I spent all of that time wondering why I couldn’t get over you, and why it was so easy for you. Maybe we’ve just gotten really good at pretending.”

“Maybe I’d make a good actor too, because nothing about these last two years have been easy, except for this part. It’s always easy with you, and it’s always been easy loving you. I just wish that I wasn’t so stupid, and I wish that I knew how to do it better, back then. You didn’t deserve a single thing that happened, and it kills me to know that I hurt the person who was willing to give me the world.”

“Shut up.” You shook your head. “I don’t want this to be sad. This isn’t supposed to be sad.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding as you spoke. “No more sad.” You gave him a half-smile. It was all your brain could muster as you watched his face, too enthralled in the small detail that you’d missed so much. Even after spending so many days denying it, you wanted this version of you to know that version of him, even if it may not last. You thought it was a shame for any version of you to not know him, and vice versa, because after so long spent loving someone, you felt cheated to miss out on any of it.

You leaned down, kissing him softly as your fingers laced with his hair. His hand tightened on you ever so slightly, showing you that your advance was welcome. You knew that even if the two of you sat there all night and never went any further, he would be just as happy. He never expected anything more than you were willing to give, and it was one of the very things that made him so unforgettable. But, you had been deprived of his touch for too long, and denying yourself any gratification was out of the question. You needed him more than you needed water, and you knew that the desperation was shared between you.

As his teeth sunk into your bottom lip with great caution, your hips grinded against his growing erection. It was a response that was automatic, and it sometimes felt as though your body would constantly be in search of his own. His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers snaking their way under the skirt of your dress and hiking it all the way up to your navel. Without breaking the kiss, his hands found your ass, pulling you down on him with a little more force every time your hips made a move of their own.

“God, I missed having you like this.” He muttered against your lips, nearly in euphoria just from the small movements.

“Me too,” You sighed, just as far gone as he was. “I thought about this every night.” You admitted, which was no lie. After the anger passed and the ache of missing him subsided, you often thought of his hands on you and his lips on your skin. Sam was your biggest guilty pleasure in every sense of the statement.

“Yeah?” He let his eyes flutter to your hips, nearly crazed by the thought of what was to come next. “Every night?”

“Every night.” You confirmed, uncaring about the blatant desperation laced in your words. You didn’t care if he knew how badly you wanted him, and you didn’t care if he knew how often you dreamed of it. Sex with him was the best you’d ever had, and even on the rare occasions that you’d find yourself with company for the night, you were still thinking of him. When the door closed behind the men you cared little about, it was Sam's face pictured so clearly in your mind as you made quick work at getting yourself off. He was the only one who ever knew how to do it, and he was the only person in the world who could make you feel this good.

“You had nobody to take care of you all this time?” He crooned, his eyes crossed with stars at the idea of you still needing him so badly.

“No one is as good as you.” You knew you shouldn’t be inflating his already too-large ego, but you couldn’t help it. It was so easy to want to please him, and even easier to do it.

“So you had no one to do it right.” He corrected, his jaw clenched tightly at the thought of someone else’s hands on you. He knew his jealousy was misplaced, and you being with other people was only a direct consequence of his own actions, but it still stung. Instead of punishing you for it, he knew that the only thing he could do was prove himself to you once again. “You poor little thing.” He sympathized, reaching one hand between your legs to relieve the ache that was steadily growing. You leaned back slightly, making the position a little more comfortable for both of you. His fingers ran over your clothed cunt, the action sending a shiver down your spine. You needed him so desperately that you weren’t sure you could wait a second longer. “This is what you need, baby?” He asked, his voice low and his eyes fixated on his hand.

“Fuck, yes.” You muttered, watching him watch you. His pleasure ridden expression was almost too much to bear, and you knew that nobody else in the world would be so pleased with pleasing you.

“Okay, angel.” He hummed, adding a little bit more pressure to his touch. “I’ll give you what you want, but I think we have some catching up to do.” He said, his eyes flickering to your face.

“What do you mean?” Your words were breathy, and you were barely focused on anything he was saying. The only thing you could think of was his hand between your legs and how long you’d waited to feel it again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, Princess. There’s lots that I missed out on.” He explained, his fingers pulling the fabric of your underwear to the side to allow himself access to you. “I’ll keep touching you as long as you keep talking to me.” You wanted to protest, knowing Sam well enough to know that his antics were not going to be as fun for you as they were for him, but as his fingers slid through your arousal and traced over your clit, you were willing to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. “Does that sound okay?”

“O-okay,” you stuttered, already lost in the feeling of his touch.

“Good,” he hummed, carefully inspecting your expression as he continued his movements. You were irresistible to him, and he was just as much of a fool for you as you were for him. “So you’ve had no one to take care of you all this time?” He asked, the pad of his finger circling around your clit with a steady pace.

“No,” you let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the feeling.

“You’re telling me nobody knows how to treat her right?” His middle finger slid down towards your entrance, waiting to go any further until you responded.

“No, Sam.” You shook your head, placing your arm on the seat to brace yourself upright.

“Tell me what you did instead.” He said, locking his eyes with your own.

“W-what?” You stuttered, shocked at the filthy question. You had grown, and that was for certain, and even for a moment, he felt like he was having sex with an entirely different person. Then, your eyes would catch his own, or you would stumble over your words and your cheeks would dust red with a blush, and he knew that you were still the exact same woman he fell in love with so long ago.

“You said that nobody knows how to take care of you, so I want you to tell me what you did instead.” He repeated, slipping one digit inside of you. You let out a hiss of pleasure as your head fell backwards in bliss. “Tell me exactly what you did, sweet girl.”

“O-oh, god.” You groaned, feeling the familiar pressure pulsing in your stomach. If he wanted to play dirty, you could, too. “After I kicked them out, I locked the door behind them and turned off all the lights.” Your voice was weak, but he was listening intently. “Sometimes, I’d even light a candle or throw on some music.”

“Mhm,” he prompted you to continue, his eyes steadily flickering from your face down to your cunt.

“Then I’d get into bed, and I would make sure I was really comfortable. I’d close my eyes, and I’d think of you. I’d remember how good it felt when your hands were touching me, how nice it felt when your lips were kissing me.” Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger to you. “What I thought about the most was your tongue, and your head between my legs, and how much you loved to be there. I thought about how good it felt, and it would get me so bothered that I had to slip my fingers between my legs and touch myself while I thought about it.” He let out a groan, his eyes squeezing shut at the sound of your obscene story. He added his thumb to the mix, letting it brush over your clit with every pump of his fingers. The stimulation was fantastic, and he could tell you were getting close. As he felt you clench around his hands, he recalled all of the other times he’d made you cum the exact same way.

“Such a bad girl,” he let out a disapproving tsk “getting off to me after having someone else in your bed.”

“I had to, Sammy.” You pleaded with him, but you were unsure why you felt the need to defend yourself. “They couldn’t do it right. They couldn’t do it like you.”

“I know, baby.” He sympathized. “Nobody knew how to make my sweet girl feel good. That’s not your fault.” He assured you. “But, I need to hear you say it before I make you feel good, Princess.” You knew what he wanted, and you were almost willing to give it to him. You were so close to an orgasm that you were certain you would do absolutely anything he asked of you. You opened your eyes, first noticing the strained erection against his jeans. You swallowed hard, knowing that you would give anything for him to fuck you, now. You needed him so badly that you couldn’t even comprehend it. When you looked up to his face, a whimper left your lips. His eyes were blackened with lust, crazed at the thought of having you wrapped around him again. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum. I’ll treat her just how she deserves.”

“Nobody else can make me feel this good, Sam.” You let out a shaky sigh, hoping that he would be kind enough to grant you the pleasure. “You’re the only one who can do it right. I need it, baby. I need you.” His head fell back against the seat, a guttural groan tearing through his chest at the sound. He loved knowing that you were his, and you had always happily obliged to the need.

“That’s it, angel.” He was heavy on the pet names, unsure of how else to show you how much he still cared. If you still weren’t sure of it by the time the night was through, he did not know what else he could do to prove his point. “Show me how much you missed me,” he ordered. The permissive statement washed over you with a fervent intensity, and it was only seconds before you descended into the climax. Curses and moans filled the air, and his name painted the windows along with the sinful fogging of the glass. Your sin was all but written on the vehicle for everyone to see, and you had missed him so much that you could not even fathom any consequences that may come after. Your legs were shaking and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat. As you came down, he tapered his movements and withdrew once he knew he had drawn out the pleasure for as long as he could.

As you collected yourself, he undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped his jeans. “That was so fucking good, Sam.” You breathed, head still spinning with euphoria.

“Yeah?” He hummed, freeing himself from his boxers. You shifted backwards, giving him a little bit more room to work with. As you did, you bumped into the steering wheel and applied pressure to the horn. The loud honk startled you, causing you to jump in response. He let out a laugh at your mishap, finding the hiccup hilarious and perfectly fitting for the two of you.

“Are you laughing at me?” You huffed, feeling your heart still pounding against your chest.

“I’m laughing with you, Princess. There’s a difference.” He corrected, reaching out and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks tinge red with embarrassment.

“Come here, honey.” He chuckled, drawing you closer to him. “You don’t ever have to be embarrassed around me. You know that.” He lined your hips up so the tip of his cock was resting against your entrance.

“I know,” you grumbled, already forgetting about the incident and only thinking of what was to come next. Without any further discussion, you lowered yourself down on him and silenced any conversation indefinitely. He let out a hiss of pleasure, the feeling taking him by surprise. A sigh of relief left your lips as you began to move, the sensation so familiar even though it had been years.

“Fuck you feel good,” he groaned, placing his hands on your hips to help you move. With every movement, he pulled you down on him even further, heightening the impact and increasing your pleasure. “I thought about you too, Princess. Every fucking night.” He admitted, moving one hand to the top of your dress to free your breasts from the fabric. “Wished that I could have you there with me so I could fuck you in every one of those fancy hotel rooms.” Your face flushed at the idea, the confession blunt, but it sent a whole different flood of arousal through you. Sam was otherworldly; no other boy in the world held a candle to him romantically or sexually. He was your whole world, the reason your heart continued to beat, and the very thing your soul searched for every minute of the day.

“I missed you so much.” You gasped, feeling the tip of his cock hit the sensitive spot he knew so well. His thumb brushed over your nipple, the soft tickle sending goosebumps across your skin. “I missed this so much.”

“Me too, Princess.” He leaned forward, capturing your nipple in his mouth. A gasp left your lips, your hips bucking against him as his tongue ran over the sensitive skin. His hand traveled to the back of your head, gathering your hair in his fist as he gently pulled your head backwards. His lips trailed upwards, his tongue gliding across your skin as he left marks to remind you of the reunion in days to come. He let his teeth sink into your collarbone, doing everything in his power to drive you over the edge. He was so deprived of you that he wished he could keep you there with him for the rest of time. He was terrified of losing you again, and some part of him believed that sex would keep you with him longer. There was no act he was unwilling to commit to keep you wrapped around him forever.

As he connected his lips with yours, your body ignited with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a fire burning within you, now, one that had long burnt out and could not be reignited by anyone other than him. All it took was one dinner and you were just as crazy for him as you were in high school. His love was a curse, a vile addiction that ravished your body with intent to leave nothing behind. He was evil, maybe not as a whole, but definitely to you. The things he made you feel were ungodly, and the ease that he had while doing so was heinous. You knew he was bad, but you couldn’t get away, and now, you didn’t even care to. His sin felt like bliss, and when with him, the euphoria was incomparable with anything else.

You were doing every single thing you swore to avoid, but it felt so good that you managed to convince yourself that this was what you wanted all along.

The two years worth of tears and agony meant nothing now that he was back in your arms. The hurt was obsolete, replaced with all of the love that was once shared between you. In that moment, you felt so good that you almost forgot every bad thing that ever happened. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl so hopelessly in love with him that you could not see him for what he truly was.

“Can you cum for me again, baby?” He asked, breaking the kiss for only a moment.

“Yeah,” you nodded, desperate for another release. You had not had an orgasm like that since the last time you were so sinfully intertwined with Sam, and you were selfishly in search of more. For once in the entire history of your relationship, you were moving with a selfish intent, and if he had to admit, it was intoxicating. To see you so crazed for pleasure and so determined to fulfill your needs was almost too much for him to handle. He was ready to come undone, and he was close to an orgasm before he even started fucking you. Pleasing you was the most pleasurable thing he’d ever done, and he would do it until the end of time if he knew it would make you happy.

“Come on, angel.” He pleaded, knowing that he could not hold on for much longer. You let out a whine, feeling the knot tighten even further. Your movements up until that point were steady, but now your hips were stuttering and your legs were shaking with the intensity of the impending climax. He reached his hand between your legs again, his fingers finding your clit in hopes of driving you over the edge. He knew you well enough to know that it would work, and within minutes, you were a mess. You could barely speak his name; your brain was rotten with impure thoughts about the man below you and what he was capable of. “That’s my girl,” he purred, moving your hips for you so you could get the most of your orgasm.

“Fuck, Sam.” You moaned, the possessive proclamation sending you into another wave of madness. As much as he enjoyed knowing that he was yours and that he was the only one who could treat you right, you were absolutely feral at the idea of being his. It felt like it was what you were put on earth for, and him, too. You were meant to be his, and he was meant to be yours, even if the world threw obstacles and challenges at you every other day. “I love you.”

The dreaded slip of words stole the air from his lungs and made his body weak.

Oh, how long he’d been waiting to hear you say it again.

He only had enough time to say it back before his orgasm came hard, sending him into the same state as you had been just seconds before. He pulled your hips down on him as he spilled his release into you, muttering curses mixed in with your name. The sound was heavenly, and you knew that there was no better one in the entire world. When you both relaxed from the excitement, he leaned back into the seat and pulled you into him. You let your forehead rest on his while hearts danced in both of your eyes. You let out a long sigh, your skin tingling with the ghost of pleasure and your body light without the stress of sexual tension in the air.

“I was hoping for it to be more romantic than this.” He admitted, letting his fingers trail over the soft skin on your thigh.

“So you were planning it?” You smirked, knowing that this had been his intent the whole time. Although you had denied it, you were secretly hoping for the same outcome.

“We’ve never been good at friends, Princess.” He reminded you, wishing he could live in the bubble of comfort for the rest of his life.

“No, we are good at being friends. We’re just not good at staying friends.” He let out a chuckle, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your own.

“You’re right. We’re not good at staying friends.” Neither of you were willing to bring up the proclamation of love, nor did you even want to. The moment was too sweet to ruin it with any talk of the future. The future always ruined the sweetness of your relationship; the uncertainty of where you would end up, whether that be someone moving away or another breakup, always seemed to dampen the mood. You did not want to think about what would happen next, because your fear was nearly paralyzing you. You wanted so badly for every moment to be this happy, but with your history, you knew it wasn’t possible.

He slowly withdrew from you, sliding your underwear back in place to contain the mess. With his help, you climbed back into your own seat. For a few moments, you both sat and stared out at the sky, unsure of what to do or say. Eventually, he slipped his hand into your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. The tightness in your chest lessened with his touch, but the fear did not dissipate.

“I should probably get home.” You whispered, your eyes fixated on the dark tree line.

“Sure, Princess.” He said, his eyes flickering towards you. He knew that vacant stare, and he knew the withdrawal all too well. He was afraid he did the exact opposite of what he intended and pushed you away for good, and he was too afraid to ask. He did not know if he would be able to handle the answer. Hesitantly, he pulled back out into the main road and began the journey to take you home.

You watched as the city passed you by, dread settled deep in your stomach the closer you got to your house. As gratifying as the sex was, you knew now in your new-found state of clarity that it was a mistake that was nearly fatal. You were so adamant about not letting Sam back in your life for a reason, and you were angry with yourself for overlooking it in exchange for momentary pleasure. You looked over at his face, pained at the sight of his beauty. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, yet it was haunting, and incredibly dangerous. Loving him was easier than falling asleep, and knowing that he held so much power over you was terrifying. You wanted to believe that he would never use it against you, but history has a terrible tendency to repeat itself, especially when it came to your own.

The truth was harrowing, and it was deeply unsettling; You loved Sam so deeply, but it had always been at a cost that you could never afford. You loved Sam, but this time, you weren’t sure if you were as willing to risk your life for it as much as you were the last.

TAGLIST: @itsafullmoon @freefallthoughts @lightsofthe-living-gvf @heckingfrick @sagekiszka @clairesjointshurt @thetroublegetssoloud71 @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog @jordie-gvf

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teyamskxawng · 1 year

Text

In Heat [VII]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

The rundown: After months of courting, you and Lo’ak finally make Tsaheylu.

Warnings: 18+ content, language, mention of reader's deceased parents, smut, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 12.2k

A/N: This can surprisingly be read separate from the rest of the fic if you stumble across this and don’t wanna read the six prior chapters lol!! Thank you to anyone who’s been reading from the beginning, ily and I wanna give you flowers <3 this chapter was funnn + heavily inspired by the 2009 film

*4 months later*

With your eyes gently shut, you let yourself immerse in the soothing touch of your parents' heartfelt embrace. Cradled in their loving arms, you could almost believe they were actually in front of you, as if the RDA hadn't ruined your life and stolen them from you over half a decade ago. Slowly letting your eyes blink open, you took in the beautiful sight of their overjoyed expressions.

Throughout the years, you prioritized visiting your departed parents at the Tree of Souls every few days. But today's meeting was especially significant. It wasn't until today that you finally gathered the courage to tell them about your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Procrastination had been your ally in this matter, as you were well aware of how soul-crushing it would be to watch their delightful smiles and hear their excited words of praise and encouragement, knowing all too well that their appearances were a mere illusion.

Eywa knows Mo'at would have your ear if she ever heard you speak down on the cultural significance of connecting with your ancestors through the tree. But still, you were all too aware that your parents couldn’t physically be with you, nor could they experience the joyous moments brought about by each milestone in your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Which was why you knew that engaging in the sensitive conversation with them would be like pouring salt on a still-open wound. Their presence felt so tangible, but deep down, reality weighed on your heart.

Your parents would never have the chance to meet Lo'ak—at least not as the version of the man he had grown into since your parents last knew him as your young, rambunctious friend.

He had changed so much since then, and they would never see the person he had become. Lo'ak was now mature and full of wisdom, but he still possessed those endearing quirks that only grew more captivating with time. Your parents didn't have the chance to give their blessing to your union, and you wouldn't get to witness their reluctant smiles give way to roaring laughter as they’d have watched Lo’ak’s spirited attempts to impress them.

Probably most heartbreaking of all, they wouldn't ever have the chance to watch their future grandchildren scamper around in sheer delight, growing up before their very eyes.

It was funny how life worked. Throughout your entire childhood, there were so many questions swirling around your mind—questions you’d always wanted to ask your parents but never got the chance to. You were too young, too innocent, and just too damn content in your blissful ignorance to even fathom the reality that one day your parents would be snatched away from you in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

There were so many things left unsaid and unexplored. Among the questions crowding your thoughts was their connection, their unyielding love.

How did they know when it was time to leave their separate lives behind and commit to a shared existence?

It wasn’t just idle curiosity; you found yourself in a similar situation with Lo’ak. You loved him more than anything, and spending a lifetime together seemed inevitable. It was just a question of when and how the fuck you were supposed to approach that kind of topic.

Neytiri and Jake would've undoubtedly shed some light on your burning inquiries. They'd been there, done that, and would have happily guided you through the somewhat awkward yet endearing conundrum with honest advice. However, you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that clouded your judgment every time you considered confiding in them about their own son. It was just... weird. There was something too personal about it, making it feel less like asking for genuine wisdom and more like prying into an intimate family matter. They were Lo'ak's parents, not yours.

So, plagued by unanswered questions, you made the impulsive decision to reach out to your parents now that their spiritual presence stood before you.

“How did you know when it was the right time to make Tsaheylu?” you asked, full of uncertainty and curious desire. “I want to... I'm just...” Your voice faltered, the words stumbling and eventually fading away like a sad, distant echo.

Your mother, sensing your unease, gently cradled your face in her warm hand. Her touch was so delicate; it felt like the brush of a feather, like a figment in the corner of your imagination. Probably because she was, quite literally, nothing more than a figment in the corner of your imagination.

“You will know when the moment is right, tìyawn,” she said with an air of soft reassurance that only a mother could provide.

However, you couldn’t escape the persistent, nagging feeling in your chest.

The thing was, you had no idea when the right time to become mated to Lo'ak would come. Shaking your head in denial, you tried to convey your confusion without words.

That was when your father chimed in, his voice powerful yet soothing as ever.

“Eywa works in unspeakable ways. Always know that she will take care of you.”

Your father always spoke in tongues, offering words of wisdom wrapped in perplexing phrases. His words should have comforted you—they'd done so countless times before, providing you with food for thought that would last for days on end, giving you at least something to remember him by.

But today? Today, they only served to fuel a mounting sense of frustration inside you.

Unspeakable ways, your ass. The sky people killed your parents. They left you an orphaned child, alone and afraid in a world that would never be the same.

“Then why did Eywa take you away from me? Why would she leave me to fend for myself, all alone?” You shouted, no longer able to prevent the dam of emotions from bursting free. It was so unfair.

An overwhelming sensation bubbled up inside you as angry tears began to gather in your eyes. Your parents’ faces grew hazy, and your vision blurred.

"You are never alone." Your father's voice interrupted your wave of sadness, his brow furrowing in confusion. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on the top of your head, his thumb softly grazing your temple. “See? We are right here, maite,” he laughed.

The chime of his laughter was so beautiful, so familiar, and you hated that it wasn't real.

Unable to maintain eye contact with your blissfully unaware parents, you swiveled your head away and barely managed to stifle a heart-wrenching sob. This was exactly why you were so weary of approaching such a sensitive topic with your parents' spirits.

Under normal circumstances, during your connection with the Tree of Souls, you easily juggled your emotions and kept things lighthearted—happy and bittersweet. But this time, the pain proved to be too overwhelming, too raw.

“I miss you both so much,” Your voice trembled as the words barely escaped your lips. Filled with grief and longing that seemed to almost strangle your voice, the words hung heavy in the air before dissipating like a delicate mist.

The comforting warmth of your mother's hand slowly receded from your cheek, and the protective touch of your father's hand slipped from your head as you were slowly pulled away from them into a sea of darkness.

As you reluctantly allowed your eyes to flutter open again, you found yourself back in reality, with the Tree of Souls standing majestically before you, adorned with its glowing pink vines. The bittersweet sensation of tears silently carved their way down your cheeks as you disconnected from the tree, gravity dropping your queue against your front with a soft thud. You couldn't even bring yourself to swipe the trail of snot from your nose. You felt numb.

Returning to reality always felt like emerging from a nightmare, with each haunting detail stubbornly clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

Next to you stood Lo’ak, detaching his tswin from an adjacent vine. He was quick to register the pain etched across your face, and with two long strides, he closed the gap between you both. Before you could even process what was happening, he gathered you into his arms, nestling your head securely under his chin.

He rubbed soothing circles into your back, deep enough to release your tension but gentle enough not to overwhelm you, all while whispering calming words into your ear.

“It’s okay, y/n,” he assured you softly. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

In the sanctuary of Lo’ak’s strong arms, you continued to tremble, seeking solace as you struggled to regain control of your breathing.

Despite your inner turmoil, you felt an overwhelming sense of security enveloping you like a warm blanket with every tight squeeze of Lo’ak’s comforting embrace. As his arms continued to encircle you, providing solace unlike any other, it gradually became easier to control your shaky breaths. Lo'ak seemed to possess a natural ability to right the wrongs in your life, even when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Your thoughts drifted back to the gut-wrenching period following your parents' unexpected deaths. You remembered how deeply that pain had cut, how lost you were in those dark days. Their absence left a deep void in your soul that threatened to swallow you whole.

Back then, in an attempt to cope with your insurmountable grief, you recklessly flung yourself headlong into your warrior training. You ignored the cautious pleas of Jake and Neytiri, who urged you to take a step back from all the violence that suddenly consumed your life. They wanted you to confront the depths of your sorrow and allow yourself time to grieve and heal properly, but their words fell on deaf ears.

You remembered how you stubbornly demanded that Jake let you back onto the training field. You were so intent on becoming the strongest version of yourself so that you could wreak absolute havoc on the RDA and avenge your parents.

And much to Jake's chagrin, you were back on the field just two days later, paired up with Lo’ak for combat training. But Lo'ak wasn’t just another trainee; he was your best friend, and he knew better than anyone that your emotional state was barely hanging by a thread.

When the training started, you swung fiercely at Lo'ak. You were relentless in channeling every ounce of emotion into your powerful strikes, trying to purge the pain from within. You attacked with everything you had, but he refused to strike back. Instead, he sidestepped each of your advances and dodged every one of your hits. At every turn, Lo’ak kept pleading with you to take a break, urging you to take a deep breath and find some other way to let go of all the anger you were holding inside.

But his words only fueled your rage.

His emotional appeal made you feel more out of control and increased your resolve to vent all those pent-up sentiments. You swung harder and faster at him, trying your best to land a solid hit, irrationally hoping it would somehow free you from your emotions.

Finally, after countless attempts, you managed to cuff Lo'ak hard on the jaw, causing him to stumble back and stare at you wide-eyed in shock. You took full advantage of his momentary bewilderment, managing another sharp hit to his nose. As your fist retracted from its solid connection with his face, it was marred with the dark red stain of his blood. Your stomach churned at the sight, but the part of you that was so angry with the world and all of its inhabitants was relentless.

There you were, standing in front of Lo’ak, fed up with everyone treating you like some delicate little flower. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come on, Lo’ak! Hit me back!” you yelled at him, your voice echoing off the surrounding trees. The frustration had been building inside you for days, and you finally reached your boiling point. Everyone seemed to tiptoe around you as if you were a grenade, ready to go off at any moment.

Lo’ak stood in front of you, his face etched with concern. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of pity and sympathy—not at all what you wanted.

“y/n...” he began hesitantly, shaking his head at what could only be described as the shadow of your former self, but his words fell on deaf ears. His refusal to engage only served to fuel your anger even further.

In an act of blind frustration, you pushed him hard in the chest with both of your hands, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction beyond pity.

You didn’t want his sad eyes. You wanted him to feel your fury and understand how tired you were of everything. But much to your disappointment, Lo’ak barely even stumbled from your forceful shove. You moved to shove him again, but in that moment of pure emotion, he reached out and caught hold of your forearms, his grip gentle but firm enough to hold you in place. You tried desperately to pry yourself from his grasp, hissing, scratching, and doing everything in your power to swing at him.

As much as you wanted to best him physically, it was all in vain.

Realizing just how futile your fight truly was, you felt a wave of despair crash down on you. Just like that, all the fire went out of your fight.

Exhausted and defeated, your body went limp in his arms. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder as tears welled up in your eyes—a crushing conclusion to the emotions you had been holding in for way too long.

Lo’ak slowly released his grip on your forearms, sensing your vulnerability. He hesitated for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around your fragile, bony frame, a heart-wrenching reminder of the fact that you hadn’t been eating properly or taking care of yourself since the loss of your parents. Despite your frailty, Lo’ak held you just tight enough to keep you steady while providing a comforting presence as tears streamed down your face. You were a wreck, crying and snotting messily into his shoulder, but you didn't have the mental capacity to care.

In times like these, words seemed to fail Lo'ak. But that was perfectly fine with you.

You didn't want him to lie and try to tell you that your parents would be missed, that they were in a better place now. You'd already heard enough of that bullshit, and it didn't help at all. So you were thankful when Lo'ak began to silently trace soothing lines up and down your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against his shoulder.

Your breaths came in short, rapid gasps between each of your sobs—hyperventilating from the emotional turmoil—and normally, you would have been mortified to be so helpless in front of your best friend. But with the weight of the world on your shoulders and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave, embarrassment was the least of your concerns.

All semblance of decorum and composure abandoned, it felt as though everything would come crashing down upon you at any moment. You felt like you were about to pass out with how drained you were, how tired you were of everything.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, y/n. Just breathe with me, please. We can count together, okay? Just—one… two….” Lo’ak was doing everything in his power to comfort you as you stood there, struggling to regain your composure.

Despite his efforts, though, your sobs were impossible to ignore. They echoed throughout the forest, eventually grabbing the undivided attention of Jake, who had been keeping an eye on some of the other trainees around the corner.

Jake immediately sprinted over to investigate, concern etched across his face. As he approached you and Lo’ak, his wide eyes softened at the sight of you two.

Without uttering a word, Jake gently nudged his head in the direction of Hometree—a silent signal for Lo’ak to get you the hell out of the chaotic environment of the training grounds and take care of you. Jake knew that what you really needed was some peace and quiet to heal.

Following his father’s advice, Lo’ak remained silent as he took your hand in his and began guiding you back toward the refuge of your late family’s tent.

You and Lo’ak never held hands like that—there was never a reason to—but in that instance, it felt natural and comforting.

The warmth of Lo’ak’s touch seemed to spread throughout your entire body, providing an odd sense of comfort despite your emotional distress. As your heart pounded against your chest with each step you took together, it became increasingly clear that the simple yet incredibly meaningful gesture would be forever etched into both of your memories.

Lo’ak guided you through the forest landscape, bathed in the early evening's bioluminescent light, until finally, the view of Hometree dominated the horizon. Silently, carefully, Lo’ak led you along the path to your family's tent.

Lo’ak understood that it wasn’t about physical or even emotional support in just that singular moment—it was about standing beside you as a friend through life’s darkest chapters and refusing to leave you alone in facing such overwhelming shadows. And as much as he could feel the ache gripping every fiber of your being, he knew that together, you could slowly start rebuilding, piece by piece. After all, friends faced the storms together and remained standing side by side when everything else had passed.

And for the first time since the death of your parents, you felt a sense of safety that you never thought you’d feel again.

As Lo’ak gently led you through the opening of your tent, his comforting grip still holding your hand, you finally understood that your idea of “home” had shifted. It wasn’t bound by the walls of a tent; instead, it was embodied by Lo’ak himself. As long as he was by your side, everything would be okay.

The scene inside your home was etched permanently in your mind—you curled in a ball on the floor beside Lo’ak, your head resting on the makeshift pillow formed from his folded legs. His fingers tenderly brushed through the unkempt wisps of hair near your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing you to concentrate on the soothing sounds around you: the rhythmic sound of Lo’ak’s steady breaths and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his lungs filled with air and released it back into the quiet world.

You felt his chest expand and contract beneath you, almost seeming to synchronize with your own breathing. The sublime connection created a shared heartbeat between you two in that tranquil space. Time appeared to stand still as silence enveloped the both of you, like Eywa herself was holding her breath to preserve the pure moment of peace.

It was in that quiet instance that you realized how perfectly you fit together—how well he held you, protecting your fragile heart while offering solace and strength in equal measure. Lo’ak’s presence reassured you over and over again: everything was going to be okay.

And likewise, now nestled safely within the circle of Lo’ak’s strong arms beneath the Tree of Souls, you were reminded once more that together, you would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered against Lo’ak’s skin, almost in a daze, yet every word held immense sincerity.

You had loved Lo’ak as he comforted you all those years ago, and your love for him had never wavered—it burned just as brightly as it did back then. He was the anchor that tethered you to the world around you, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-changing tides of life. You cherished everything about him, from the gentle warmth that emanated from his touch to the familiarity of his laughter as you would relentlessly tease each other.

There wasn’t a single thing about him you would change—he wouldn’t be Lo’ak if you did.

Your heartfelt confession seemed to catch him completely off guard. It was as if someone had pressed pause on a video on one of Jake’s holo-pads, his entire being coming to a sudden standstill. He pulled away from your embrace, just enough to look down into your eyes. The desperation on his face only grew as he sought some kind of validation, some confirmation that what you said was real, that it wasn’t just some figment of his imagination.

You met his gaze, completely sure of yourself. There was no doubt in your mind regarding the depth of emotion behind those three simple words that had slipped from your lips. There was no trace of embarrassment or regret clouding your expression when you confessed your love for Lo’ak.

He simply stared back at you, wide-eyed and speechless, his gaze searching your face. He was just waiting for you to break out into a smirk, to let out a snort of laughter, to flick him in the forehead and say, “Just kidding, dumbass.”

But that moment never came. Instead, there you were, open-hearted and genuine, with all the unspoken emotions now laid bare between the two of you, raw and unfiltered.

You watched as Lo’ak’s gaze shifted to the right. You remained clueless as he was captivated by the sudden, enchanting sight of a flurry of woodsprites fluttering closer and closer to the two of you. Their tiny arms reached out, almost as if they were cheering you on, creating an atmosphere of wonder and delight.

Unaware of the spectacle unfolding behind you, your attention was drawn to Lo’ak’s face. Curiously, you tried to decipher his expression. You were kind of expecting him to say he loved you back, not stare gobsmacked above your head.

Lo'ak watched as one by one, the delicate woodsprites began to land on your head with the grace of a feather. The first one settled softly on your crown, followed by another... and another, each seeking its own perch on your head. Soon, at least a dozen of them had landed there, each adding to your iridescent halo that glowed like a luminous headpiece. As the radiant display enveloped you, it only enhanced your beauty further.

The once-overwhelming confusion in your eyes slowly gave way to a dawning look of amazement as you caught sight of the enchanting flurry that had piqued Lo’ak’s interest out of the corner of your eye.

The air was thick with anticipation as you watched the woodsprites gather around the two of you with bated breath. Their movements were graceful and full of energy as they happily flurried around before finally settling on Lo’ak’s shoulders in an almost comically straight line.

It was impossible to ignore the significance of the incredible moment.

The tiny seeds that detached themselves from the Tree of Souls were known to carry omens and symbolize sacred moments in one’s life. You knew in your heart that this was Eywa. She was speaking to you, giving you a sign. As always, your father was right.

You glanced over at Lo’ak, curious to see if he was comprehending the gravity of the moment just as much as you were. Sure enough, the expression on his face mirrored your understanding and awe. His stunned gaze flickered from your face to his arms, which were extended out to his sides and covered in dozens of brightly glowing woodsprites. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of you, cementing the mysterious but profound connection shared at that moment.

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, the woodsprites detached themselves from both your bodies and floated away. They retreated gracefully back to their home within the glowing heights of the Tree of Souls.

You followed their ascent with your eyes, craning your neck to keep them in sight for as long as possible, completely captivated by their presence.

An indescribable wave of joy surged through your body, electrifying and tingling every inch of your being. It was an overwhelming feeling of peace that engulfed you entirely and left a deep sensation of gratitude within your soul.

You were admittedly caught off guard as Lo’ak’s hand gently cradled your cheek. His touch was deliberate yet tender, guiding your face to meet his gaze. As his hand continued its journey, it slid from your shoulder and traveled down your arm before finally intertwining with yours, almost instinctively. A warm smile graced your lips as the feeling of your fingers meshing together felt as natural as the first time you had done so all those years ago.

“I love you too, y/n. So much,” Lo’ak confessed, his words effectively snapping you back to reality. Your smile broadened in response to his heartfelt declaration, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions that filled you from within.

The atmosphere around you was electric with love, and with a playful snort, you couldn’t help but tease: “I think that was Eywa telling us to hurry up.”

At that moment, all of your worries seemed to evaporate. You felt light and carefree and overcome with happiness. You felt so in love. The intensity of emotion that flooded through you needed release. It compelled you to take action.

Reaching out for Lo’ak once more, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him close, eliminating any space that separated the two of you. You were living in an idyllic moment, one where time seemed to stand still and nothing else mattered but the love you shared.

For a few moments, you both embraced one another tightly, allowing yourselves to take steady breaths.

It was almost as if your breathing was synchronized, which caused your mind to drift in curiosity. You wondered if this was what the bond would feel like—like your souls were so intricately woven together that it was nearly impossible to separate the two of you into individual beings.

As those thoughts swirled in your head, you tenderly rubbed your cheek against Lo’ak’s, reveling in his warmth and soaking in every detail of his closeness to you. His unique scent enveloped you—herbal and musky and sweet—further entwining the two of you in an enchanting dance of passion and love.

The very essence of him consumed your senses, and you felt like you could just forget the world and drown in his intoxicating scent, the tenderness of his touch, and the sheer intimacy of the shared moment.

In response to your affection, Lo’ak released a contented noise that very much resembled that of a soft purr, and you let out a breath of laughter at both the noise and the immediate blush that spread across Lo'ak's face as he tried to play it off.

Quick to quiet your snickers, Lo’ak let out a quiet “Shh,” but you could feel the corners of his lips against your face as they curled into a smile that mirrored your own happiness.

Feigning innocence while still keeping your voice low and full of tenderness, you replied with a delicate whisper, “I didn’t say anything.”

Like the overgrown child that he is, Lo'ak only squeezed you tighter around the waist and mocked you in an overly high-pitched voice. "I didn't say anything," he parroted. You couldn't even bring yourself to pretend to be annoyed. You were way too proud of how easily you could reduce him to purrs.

You continued showering Lo’ak with your love by alternately brushing your cheek over his and planting a series of little kisses all across his face, effectively shutting him up.

It was as though each kiss held its own message—a reminder that you loved him beyond measure. You wanted him to absorb every ounce of the adoration you poured into those delicate kisses.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, exploring the well-known paths that traced the curves and definition of the muscles hidden beneath his skin. The affectionate and almost habitual gesture seemed to serve as a call to action. It was like a spark that ignited an unspoken understanding between the two of you.

At that moment, you were acutely aware of how desperately you needed Lo’ak, how you longed for him to be even closer to your heart and soul, to be one with your body.

You told him as much, whispered your desires into the shell of his ear.

As you pulled back to gaze into Lo’ak’s eyes, you immediately noticed his pupils dilated with anticipation, the same way they’d always get whenever you were about to fuck. Without hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his arms around your middle and drew you toward him, his lips hungrily connecting with yours in a searing kiss. He almost missed your mouth altogether with the intensity with which he sought out your whispered offering.

Your hands tenderly rose upward to cradle the back of Lo’ak’s head as you licked into his mouth, savoring each delicious slide of your tongue against his own. Your tail swung eagerly behind you, unable to hide your mounting excitement. The soft tuft of dark hair at its end seemed to possess a mind of its own as it brushed against Lo’ak’s side—a physical manifestation of the magnetic pull drawing you even closer to him.

You practically drank him in, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of your lips fusing with his in a wondrous, familiar rhythm.

As the gentle breeze danced around you, you willingly let Lo’ak guide you down onto the cushiony grass, your back sinking into its soft embrace. You let him mouth his way down the length of your neck, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Barely audible, he grumbled into your throat, “Love you,” once more. His voice was heavy with emotion, and the raw sincerity in his voice stirred an overwhelming wave of emotion within you.

Lo’ak’s tender affections continued to unravel the edges of your composure. You felt completely undone. You were sure there was no way that all he had done so far was kiss you. With your eyes closed and your senses heightened, you could feel every tender touch as he grazed his teeth over your pulse point and delicately trailed his fingers up the expanse of your legs as if tracing a map; his touch simultaneously commanding and gentle.

As he let his fingers roam further up your thighs, he paused to appreciate the softness of your skin, gently squeezing the supple flesh before tracing teasing lines along the innermost part of your legs. His thumbs gently brushed against the sensitive skin there, sending tingles throughout your body like electric sparks. Between each lingering touch, your breaths grew shallow in anticipation.

Stubbornly, he maintained a small distance between your bodies, refusing to give in and press up against you even though you were desperate for it. You shamelessly keened for it, tried to push your hips up to meet him. You wanted to feel him inside of you, and judging by the strain against his loincloth, he wanted to be inside you just as badly. But Lo’ak was such a little shit.

He relished taking his sweet time with you, deliberately drawing out each moment as he explored your body, teasing you for so long until you were nothing but a pliant wreck under his touch. He always prioritized your pleasure above everything else, which was simultaneously frustrating and endearing.

Lo’ak continued working his tantalizing magic on your skin, his fingers hovering so close, yet never quite reaching the spot where you so desperately needed him. It was maddening and exhilarating how meticulous he could be. The dance between agony and ecstasy left every part of you desperate for more. You wanted to scream in frustration.

Attempting to gather your resolve, you meant to firmly call out “Lo’ak,” but instead, it escaped your lips as more of an anguished, pleading moan.

Lo’ak didn’t seem to mind at all, only humming in response as he continued his passionate onslaught. Leaving a fiery trail of burning kisses, he started at your throat and made his way down your collarbone, stopping to linger at your sternum before continuing his journey over the fabric covering your chest. And you immediately came to the conclusion that the extra barrier of material just wouldn’t do.

You swiftly sat up to remove your top, so suddenly that you almost smashed Lo’ak in the face with your elbow in the process. But with your chest now bare to him, you decided that you might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Efficiently eliminating the need for any further interruptions, you hastily reached down and loosened the knot holding up your loincloth just enough for you to slide it over your hips and down past your legs, mindlessly tossing the garment to the side amidst the tall blades of grass. You were sure that you were going to have to spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to find it once all was said and done, and Lo'ak was definitely going to laugh at you the entire time and not help you look for it, but that was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

No matter how many times Lo’ak had seen you in that state of undress before, his astonishment and awe remained fresh and unperturbed each time. He had the same awestruck reaction, his eyes wide in admiration as if he were beholding some rare and precious treasure. Lo’ak’s face revealed a myriad of emotions as his eyes traveled over every inch of your frame, the corners of his mouth curving into a small, affectionate grin.

You found yourself rolling your eyes at his display, all while secretly delighting in how he never failed to worship your body without reservation. His presence had a unique way of making you feel at ease, even in your most vulnerable state.

Taking his time, Lo’ak’s gaze didn’t meet yours until he had thoroughly feasted upon the sight before him.

His soft voice whispered into the air, “You’re so beautiful.” Then, with renewed determination, he resumed his quest to leave you completely breathless and speechless, planting tender kisses against your now-bare chest.

His hands meandered their way back to the curve of your waist, securing your writhing form to the ground as if to ensure you couldn’t escape from the captivating hold he had on you. With heightened anticipation and growing desire, Lo’ak slowly roamed his hands upward to trace the delicate curves of your breasts.

Lo’ak somehow intertwined the perfect balance of fervor and tenderness in each of his actions while meticulously extinguishing any ability for words or coherent thought. It was like straight-up mush in your brain. You were swept up in the whirlwind of sensation that he created with such exquisite attention to detail, every touch enhancing the emotional connection between you.

It was in these moments where time seemed to slow down and reality faded away, that Lo’ak awakened a deeper connection within your soul—one built on trust, admiration, and an ineffable love that left you completely at a loss for words.

“So fucking perfect,” Lo’ak murmured, allowing the gentle pressure of his thumbs to glide across your sensitive nipples, already hardened into little buds from all the ongoing stimuli.

You let out a soft moan in response to Lo’ak’s continual praise, which seemed to envelop you like a warm, comforting ray of light. There was no doubt in your mind that you trusted Lo’ak with all your heart. He always knew how to make you feel so good every single time, without fail.

And as he began his tantalizing journey of sweet kisses, starting at your chest and gradually trailing lower and lower along the trembling lines of your stomach, you felt an exhilarating anticipation building within you.

He made his way down to your already-wet center, and all you could do was sink your head further into the ground beneath you, exhaling his name in a breathy whisper.

The sensation of Lo’ak’s delicate touch combined with the warmth of his breath gently sweeping over your core caused a shiver to resonate throughout your entire being. He gently spread your legs apart even further, comfortably positioning himself between them before diving in without any hesitation.

Lo'ak knew exactly how to reduce you to moans, and this time was no different. He shamelessly loved eating you out. His enthusiasm for doing so became apparent from the very first time you let him go down on you. You figured it must’ve been fate because, as much as the boy loved to talk, he transformed into something utterly irresistible whenever his mouth descended upon you—each tantalizing lick into your wetness and gentle prod of his tongue at your entrance made you feel like you were going to lose your mind.

He loved the way you’d go all soft under his touch, practically melting beneath his skilled tonguework. He reveled in the sensation of your legs wrapping around him, curling over his shoulders as your ankles crossed snugly behind his neck, the way your thighs tightened around his head each time he circled his tongue around your clit. Your body couldn’t help but respond to his every touch.

Lo’ak loved the noises you made. It was as if you were unable to contain yourself or the stream of moans and curses that would slip past your lips, bitten red from trying (and always failing) to keep quiet.

He especially loved it when, seemingly without realizing it, you’d reach out and bury your fingers within his braids, grinding yourself against his face because you couldn’t stand how teasingly slow he was going.

The first time Lo’ak went down on you, all it took was a few mindless ruts against the soft forest floor before he was groaning into your wetness, coming in powerful spurts inside his loincloth—all without being touched.

And now, as Lo’ak enveloped you once again in his teasing embrace, skillfully flicking his tongue in a wet stripe up your center before zeroing in on the sensitive nub at your front, you felt as entirely blissed out as he did during that first time.

As Lo’ak continued his deliciously tormenting work, exploring every contour with practiced devotion, you found yourself powerless against the rising tide of euphoria.

He’d barely been at it for more than a minute or two before you could sense the rising tension within your core and the trembling of your legs—telltale signs of your impending climax.

But you didn’t want to finish like that. Given the tender, emotional exchange of words you’d experienced together for the first time, you wanted to finish as one, harmoniously intertwined in a mutual dance of ecstasy.

You needed Lo’ak inside of you, so close that he could never leave, so deeply intertwined with you that it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It wasn’t merely about physical closeness; it was about forging a new kind of bond with Lo'ak.

To make Tsaheylu was to embrace a wholly different plane of affection. It was all-consuming and intense. The very idea of forming that neural connection with Lo'ak—sharing in his experiences and emotions, savoring every conceivable sensation together—left your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

As soon as that thought took shape in your mind, there was no turning back. You had set your heart on truly becoming one with Lo’ak—inseparable and forever bound together by love, entwining your lives like the intricate patterns woven into a delicate tapestry.

“Mmm, Lo’ak,” you called out tentatively, your voice wobbly from both the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body and the mere thought of finally making the bond with Lo’ak.

However, Lo’ak seemed to interpret your call of his name as a sign of your continued pleasure, which wasn't entirely false.

He practically doubled his efforts as he increased the intensity with which he went down on you, slurping loudly and adding a finger that tenderly brushed against your clenching hole.

Your reaction was instinctive—a barely audible curse slipping past your lips as you inhaled sharply, just barely catching yourself before losing control completely. Frantically, you reached out and tugged on Lo’ak’s braids, using them as an anchor in a desperate attempt to draw him away from the dizzying height of ecstasy that threatened to consume you.

His yellow eyes grew wide in confusion as they darted over your face in search of some explanation for the sudden interruption. Finding yourself at a loss for words due to the intensity of his unwavering gaze, you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

Your heart thundered in your chest, pounding against your ribcage as you nervously contemplated the words about to leave your lips.

Taking a deep breath, you began hesitantly, “I want us to finish together.”

You gently let your hand run down the back of Lo’ak’s head, continuing its path until it reached his arm. You tugged him closer to you until he had you caged beneath him, both of his arms planted firmly on the ground beside your head like a protective barrier.

Lo’ak’s face lit up with a radiant smile at your words. However, he was completely unprepared for what you would say next.

“Through Tsaheylu. Together,” you whispered almost inaudibly.

Your voice was so soft that one could easily have missed it, but Lo’ak’s eyes widened as if they were attempting to absorb the entirety of your statement. He had heard every single word loud and clear, and there was no doubt that he understood the significance of what you just proposed.

Lo’ak nodded emphatically, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his eyes wandered over your face, trying to determine for the second time that day whether this was reality or a dream.

“Yeah? You really want to?” He asked, his eyes filled with curiosity and hope, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

His hand tenderly reached out to brush away a stray strand of hair from your flushed face before gently cradling your jaw in a caring and familiar gesture of love. You mirrored his nod in response, silently conveying your mutual feelings and desires. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that you wanted more than to make Tsaheylu with Lo’ak right there and then.

The atmosphere between the two of you was electric and palpable. A mixture of anticipation, passion, and unwavering trust laced the air.

Lo’ak leaned in closer, slowly bringing his face down to yours. Your lips met in a soft embrace—an innocent yet intoxicating kiss that was worlds apart from your previous messy and heated exchange. It was a testament to the deepening connection between the two of you, one filled with unspoken love, desire, and trust.

The emotions stirred by the simple act swirled around you like an invisible current, further cementing the bond that had formed throughout your time together. As Lo’ak’s lips gently brushed against yours, it seemed as though time had slowed down. There was no rush; no urgency had come into play when everything felt so perfectly crafted for the scene at hand.

The moment was intense, almost palpable, as you felt like your heart was on the verge of bursting when Lo’ak pulled back from your entwined lips, only to reach behind him and retrieve his braided queue. He swiftly pulled it over his shoulder, and as he held it up between the two of you, the dark hairs at the tip cascaded gracefully to the side, revealing the delicate pink tendrils that seemed to dance in anticipation.

You had seen Lo’ak do it countless times before—when he’d mount his ikran, when he’d ride the direhorses, when he’d connect to the Tree of Souls. Despite the familiarity, you found yourself marveling at the mesmerizing sight. This time was different, and the significance of what was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water.

By connecting in mind and spirit, Lo’ak would share all that he was with you—each memory enlivened with vibrant detail; every emotion given depth and nuance; all senses heightened and magnified beyond any experience you could have ever imagined.

And now the moment had finally arrived, the pivotal point in your relationship where you and Lo’ak were about to link queues and become one, mated for life.

With that thought in mind, you quickly shifted, momentarily lifting your back from the ground so you could seize hold of your queue.

Your hand shook with nervous excitement as you reached it out towards Lo’ak’s, your entire being ablaze with anticipation. You couldn’t help but wonder what the connection would feel like, how the essence of another living, breathing person would seep into the very depths of your soul.

As the tendrils of your queue edged closer to Lo’ak’s, they finally intertwined, sending an almost electric jolt through every fiber of your being.

You could feel the presence of another living, breathing entity residing deep within your soul, as though you had welcomed in a part of yourself that had been missing all along. It was as if every fiber of your being was united with his in a timeless bond.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had fluttered closed.

When you finally opened them again and let reality return, the first thing you sought was Lo’ak’s gaze.

And there he was, staring intensely at you, his dark pupils dilated wide in awe and wonder. His breath was shaky as it fanned across your face, a shared acknowledgment of the incredible experience that had just unfolded between you two.

The sensation was beyond anything you’d ever experienced before.

You could feel everything. Every single thing. The pounding of his heart seemed to reverberate within your very being, its rhythm unmistakable and powerful. It was as if every breath he took inhaled a part of you, and each exhale released a warmth that spread throughout your entire body, all in perfect sync.

And it wasn’t just his physical presence that became entwined with yours. His thoughts raced within your mind. The shared experiences birthed a flurry of emotions—pure love, affection, and desire—that poured into you. It was as if you could experience the entire spectrum of his emotions all at once.

The pleasure coursing through him fueled your own tenfold, creating an indescribable sensation that beckoned from deep within your soul. It was a pulsing, throbbing need centered between your legs, more powerful than anything you’d experienced even during the peak of your heat cycle.

Driven by instinct and a primal need for release, you wrapped your legs around Lo’ak’s waist, seeking any form of friction available to ease the mounting pressure.

And though you knew damn well it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of you completely, even that slightest contact seemed to amplify everything happening between the two of you.

Almost as if orchestrated by fate, you both found yourselves moaning in unison at the feeling of sheer pleasure from the brief contact, a guttural sound born from the depths of pure ecstasy. The sensation was so intense and all-consuming that it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

“Shit, y/n,” Lo’ak groaned, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried to hold himself together. He firmly gripped your waist for support while you both struggled to catch your breath.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of your combined labored breathing filling the air, mingling together and growing progressively louder as you continued to grind yourself against Lo’ak’s clothed front. You could feel how hard he was with each press of his length against your soaked core.

“Get this thing off,” you mumbled, blindly searching with your hands to get a grip on his loincloth, because why was he still clothed and not splitting you in half at that very moment?

Lo’ak understood your urgency and quickly moved to get rid of the garment in question. He untied the knot from around his waist with haste, allowing his loincloth to drop unceremoniously to the floor beneath him and finally expose his throbbing length.

The sight before you was mesmerizing. His cock seemed to sway in front of your eyes, as if calling out to you. It was already so full, the tip dark and leaking a steady trickle of precum.

Without hesitation, Lo’ak gently nudged your legs further apart using his knees, leaving you completely exposed to him once again. He firmly gripped himself, unable to resist the urge to slowly buck his hips into his clenched fist.

Your head, which had been lifted off the ground so you could fully appreciate Lo’ak in all his unclothed glory, abruptly fell back to the ground with a loud and what should’ve definitely been a painful thud. However, the sensation of pain didn’t even register in your mind.

You were entirely consumed by the incredible pleasure coursing through Lo’ak’s body, a pleasure that rippled throughout your being through the bond with such an overwhelming intensity that it elicited a broken moan from your lips.

Breathlessly, you began to speak, “Oh my...” but the words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Lo’ak’s tip brushing teasingly against your swollen nub of nerves, tracing a tantalizing path from your clit along your slickened folds, and pushing you closer to the brink of insanity.

The anticipation continued to build, stretching out the moment and making it seem like an eternity as you both danced on the precipice of pleasure—every touch, every whispered word drawing you further in while heightening the emotional connection between you two.

Lo’ak leaned down to his favorite spot: the tiny, delicate jut where your neck met your shoulder. He sucked a bruising kiss into your skin, all the while continuing the slow, borderline sadistic slide of his cockhead against your front.

With each tantalizing nudge, his grunts echoed against the soft flesh of your neck, reverberating throughout your body.

Desperate for more, you managed to gasp breathlessly through the haze of pleasure. “Inside, Lo’ak. Please, I need you.”

At last, it seemed as though your plea had broken through to him.

Lo’ak seemed to snap back into focus from his euphoric daze, finally pulling away from your neck. Licking his lips in anticipation, he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Need you too,” he rasped out.

His gaze flickered between your flushed face and the spot between your legs where he’d been teasing you mercilessly, back and forth, as if he couldn’t get enough of observing every tiny movement you made. His rapt attention seemed to hang on your every labored breath, each moan and whimper that escaped your lips.

Finally, Lo’ak cautiously started to make his way inside of you.

Your eyes clamped shut as your forehead crinkled in reaction to the familiar yet still startling stretch.

You mentally chastised yourself for every time you’d obliviously joked about how small he probably was, how his extra finger probably only existed to compensate for what he was lacking in other areas. Your smug ignorance seemed laughable now, as it was clear that your prior words were wholly mistaken.

He was anything but small. His size was, by all accounts, definitely more than substantial. That much was evident, as reiterated by the burning stretch of your walls each time Lo’ak would initially sink into you. You probably would never get used to it.

Lo'ak could’ve been annoyingly conceited about it. He could’ve laughed at the look on your face and made you endure the full brunt of his size all at once, because that was honestly what you deserved. It would’ve been a taste of your own medicine considering the past teases you’d ignorantly thrown his way.

But, despite it all, he didn’t.

He was always so soft, so gentle about it, handling the situation delicately and never failing to check in on your well-being—just as he was doing now.

“You okay? You have to tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his thumb gently brushing across the inside of your thigh. His eyes darted across your face, searching every inch for any hint of discomfort.

Despite the uncertainty in his words, you were sure that he could feel the extent of your pleasure. Through your neural connection, he definitely had to have known how much you liked it when he stretched you open.

With some effort, you peeled your eyes open, staring up at Lo’ak with a half-lidded look of languid satisfaction. Your head shook from side to side as a contented grin formed on your lips.

“No,” came the breathy reply, “it’s so good. Love how full you make me feel.”

And with that, you pushed yourself even further onto Lo’ak's length, continuing until you felt no space left between you; his hips pressed snugly against your front. The sensation of him being completely inside of you filled your heart with joy, and a gentle nudge against your cervix confirmed that he was deeply connected to you in every way imaginable.

Lo’ak pressed his chest against yours, allowing the warmth of your bodies to merge as one. His forehead tenderly touched yours, and you both closed your eyes, fully immersed in the moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you both indulged in the bliss of being as close as possible, physically and emotionally connected like never before. It was a sensation that could never truly be captured in words.

Lo’ak moved ever so slightly from your intimate embrace, pulling out only to ease himself back into you purposefully. It was as if he were guiding you on a journey to another world, one where the two of you floated seamlessly through space and time.

He fucked you slow and sweet with tiny, measured thrusts that mirrored the tempo of your heartbeats, synchronized by the undeniable connection between you. The mutual dance of love continued with deliberate grace as Lo’ak led the way with his gentle and controlled movements. It was that intense physical expression of love that made it impossible to break from the embrace.

Your lips languidly grazed against each other's—just mere whispers of breathy, open-mouthed kisses that tasted like love itself.

As your intimacy built to a crescendo, so did your readiness to accommodate him completely. You were so wet, and you welcomed each gentle slide of his cock with ease, your bodies effortlessly melding together as one. You lovingly opened up for him, enveloping him whole with passion and tenderness.

It wasn’t hard and fast like you sometimes inevitably went at it with each other. Those instances took place hastily, either in between grueling training sessions or hidden in quiet corners of Hometree late at night. In those fleeting moments, you were constantly on high alert and trying to keep quiet. Every breath carried a sense of urgency and anticipation, as if someone might discover your intimate secret at any second.

However, things were different now. There was no sense of urgency. There were no watchful eyes, no impending duties or responsibilities that you’d had to run off to.

It was just you and Lo’ak, connected in the deepest manner conceivable—physically and emotionally united in the most intimate way possible.

As you lay there together in that beautiful moment, Lo’ak continued to whisper tender words of appreciation that seemed to make their way up your spine like tiny sparks, sending shivers of pure bliss up your spine. It felt as if his gentle, breathy little praises had some kind of magical property, tracing the path along your neural whip and leaving sparks of sensitivity all throughout your body.

He continued to fervently whisper sweet praises—"just like that" and “so good, y/n”, and each one made you feel even more entranced by the newfound connection you shared. You were convinced that his voice alone had the power to make you surrender completely and melt into the floor beneath you.

You were at a loss, unsure of what to do with your hands. They stretched aimlessly above your head, with your fingers absentmindedly plucking and tearing blades of grass from the ground beneath you.

You finally reached out toward Lo’ak, hooking your arms beneath his and clutching at his back as if attempting to anchor yourself into some semblance of reality. His movements seemed to cut through you, each thrust driving a wedge deep within your core that further solidified the bond shared between the two of you.

“I love you so much,” Lo’ak murmured into your mouth, his grip on your waist growing stronger to emphasize the undeniable sincerity behind his words. He continued, almost manic in his declaration, “Fuck, I love you. You have no idea.”

His voice was low and throaty, and you could only respond with a moan of unconditional agreement. It felt as though once he had uttered those three powerful words, it was no longer enough for him to simply think or feel the intensity of his love for you—he had to say it aloud, over and over again.

It wasn’t as if the two of you had been deliberately or even knowingly avoiding saying those words until now.

You obviously loved each other and were obviously in love with each other for as long as you could remember. However, your journey began as best friends and remained that way for such a long time that you didn’t really know how to approach the affectionate verbal confession until now. It was as if uttering those special words might somehow disturb the delicate balance between friendship and romantic love that the two of you had maintained almost effortlessly for so long.

Sure, physical affection was something you’d grown comfortable with. The intimacy of sex with Lo’ak was electric, and it left you both breathless. Nonetheless, the foundation of friendship you had built over the years remained strong and unwavering.

The very fact that you were not only lovers but also best friends added an intricate layer of complexity to your still-new relationship. It was exciting yet puzzling at the same time, figuring out how to balance your undeniable love for one another with the familiarity that came with years of close-knit friendship.

At times, you both found yourselves grappling with the delicate balance between foolhardy banter and serious talk about your relationship.

You’d often resort to flustered, stuttering wrecks whenever anyone around you would steer your conversation toward topics like mating or raising children together. It was clear that both of you deeply desired those things, but figuring out how to effectively communicate your feelings and intentions was still a work in progress.

And in all those months since you'd been courting, you just hadn’t yet learned how to express your affection for one another in its purest, verbal form.

Sure, Lo’ak would often share the things that he loved about you: “I love your eyes...”; “I love how much you care about everyone around you, even though you pretend like you don’t...”; “I love the way you look on top of me...”—yet despite all the passionate declarations, the simple utterance of those three potent words remained an unspoken truth between the two of you.

It was just another one of those things that the two of you danced around until one of you was bold enough to face it head-on. And it definitely hadn’t been the first time, as you recalled how you’d skirted around your feelings for each other for years before finally admitting them to each other only a few months ago.

That was precisely why the phrase “I love you” carried such monumental weight each time it escaped from Lo’ak’s lips right in front of you.

Those three little words felt like a sacred hymn that touched your very soul. You savored every syllable, allowing his tender words to envelop you, allowing his warm breath to caress your lips—just a hair’s breadth apart from his.

You could practically feel the warmth of his love emanating from every touch, each caress sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, the heat in your core intensified, amplified by a heady concoction of love and lust. You became increasingly aware that you weren’t going to be able to last much longer. It was all so intense.

Yet even amidst the whirlwind of raw emotion and overwhelming passion, you found yourself wishing that the breathtaking moment could stretch on into infinity. The connection shared between you and Lo’ak was so powerful and awe-inspiring that the thought of it ending seemed unfathomable.

“Fuckfuckfuck Lo'ak, I’m gonna—” You barely choked out the warning, your words probably indecipherable as your entire world seemed to blur and your vision whited out around the edges. Your body went rigid, your walls clenching around Lo’ak so tight in a series of spasms that left him stuttering his thrusts to a halt.

He threw his head back in a deep moan and held onto every last bit of control he had left, trying his best not to spill inside of you in that overwhelming moment. Despite the literal death grip you had on him, he managed to hold on for just a bit longer.

Through it all, Lo'ak covered your face in soft, tender kisses as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body felt light and blissfully exhausted under Lo’ak’s tender and unrelenting affection. You felt utterly spent under his unwavering care.

As your high finally started to subside, all that remained was a lingering, trembling sensation running through your body.

Lying there with Lo’ak still fully enveloped around and within you, all you could do was weakly reach up and run a shaky hand through his braids, holding him close to you until you slowly came back to your senses.

In the aftermath of your intense orgasm, you could unmistakably sense the desire emanating from every fiber of Lo’ak’s being through your bond. He was holding himself back, trying to stabilize his frantic heartbeat.

Both of you had mutually (and flusteredly) agreed that you weren’t ready for children anytime soon, both still young and wanting to take your time with one another. You wanted to cherish every moment with Lo'ak in the honeymoon-like phase of your relationship for a few more precious years before even entertaining the thought of building a rambunctious herd of little kids.

With that mutual agreement in mind, you gingerly unfurled your legs from Lo’ak’s waist, keenly observing his every move as he painstakingly pulled out of your tight wetness.

With a final obscene popping sound, he finally withdrew completely, firmly gripping the base of his slickened shaft. His eyes squeezed shut, his head hung low, and his breath escaped in shallow puffs of air.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, reaching out with your free arm to swat Lo’ak’s hand away and get him off yourself. As your fingers curled around his length, a look of determination crossed your face.

Lo’ak leaned into the sensation of your tight grip, letting out a deep moan as he instinctively thrust into your fist to meet each of your pumps.

You relished in the way Lo’ak went pliant under your fingers—his arms hanging limp at his sides and his head thrown back in overwhelming pleasure from just your slightest touch.

You sat up fully, instinctively steadying yourself with a firm grip on Lo’ak’s hip. You delicately brought your mouth to him, licking a wet line all along the length of his shaft, leisurely starting from the base and gliding up to the tip.

The sudden sensation caught Lo’ak completely off guard, his eyes snapping open in surprise to just barely catch the sight of you taking the swollen head of his cock between your lips.

As you did so, your other hand moved in perfect synchrony, gripping and pumping at the base of his shaft. Your head skillfully bobbed up and down in a leisurely dance of pleasure as you took him deeper into your mouth.

The entire ordeal created a messy symphony of sound: a concoction of your own slick arousal, saliva, and his leaking precum forming an unmistakable wetness. But much to your delight, you loved every moment of the sensory overload—almost as much as you loved watching Lo’ak slowly fall apart above you.

Taking your time (as well as revenge for how cruelly slow Lo'ak had teased you earlier), you gently slid your mouth off his head with a wet, satisfying pop. As your hand continued to lazily fist his shaft, your eyes were completely captivated by his reactions, as if you were privy to a secret performance just for you.

He looked the same way he always did when you sucked him off—all disheveled, his cheeks flushed with passion and a series of low moans escaping his throat—and you loved it so much.

But even more so, you loved the intimate connection that allowed you to feel every emotion coursing through him: the boundless love, the fiery desire coursing through his veins, and the growing anticipation toward his climax. It was an exhilarating experience. It made you want to be the one to make him lose himself completely, just as he had done for you moments ago.

With purposeful intent, you guided Lo’ak back into your eager mouth, sending subtle vibrations coursing through his body by gently humming around his length and eliciting yet another groan from him.

Carefully meeting each of his responses with enthusiasm and skill, you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your movements became bolder, taking nearly all of him until he grazed the back of your throat before gradually sliding back up once more.

You repeated that motion once, then twice, before you heard Lo’ak calling out your name, desperately warning you that he was about to come.

You couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lo’ak twitch in your mouth. It was a familiar sign that he was about to spill every last drop of himself down your throat.

Lo’ak’s fingers gently found their way through your hair as he released a deep, guttural groan. He watched you through half-closed eyes as he came in sharp bursts into your eagerly awaiting mouth.

Your enthusiasm was unrestrained as you swallowed around him, hungrily capturing every last drop of him. You practically sucked Lo’ak raw, leaving him gasping and whimpering from the overstimulation.

Eventually, you decided to show him some mercy as you slowly trailed your lips upward along his overly-sensitive shaft. Gently, you placed a tiny kiss on his tip, grinning like a madwoman at how Lo’ak’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his abdominal muscles tensing in response to the sensitivity of your touch.

With his eyes still shut, Lo’ak shook his head in disbelief, marveling at the power of your loving touch.

It was so much more than just physical contact.

Tsaheylu made everything feel a million times more powerful, more intense. You couldn't help but feel a little light-headed from the sheer perfection of it all, almost as if you were floating.

Without any hesitation, you grabbed hold of Lo'ak's arm and pulled him down to the ground until both of you lay side-by-side, face-to-face, basking in the blissful afterglow of your shared intimacy.

You hooked a leg over Lo'ak's side, drawing him even closer to your body. He responded with his own lingering touch, his hand confidently yet gently cradling your thigh as if it were second nature. It was a simple act of intimacy that somehow felt like so much more.

As you lay there in that tender embrace, your heartbeats synced as if they were dancing to the same rhythm. Soft smiles spread across your faces, and everything around you seemed to blur out of focus. It was just the two of you at that moment, wrapped up in the delicate threads of the bond that interwove between each of your shared glances.

Though your communications were mostly unspoken in that moment, it didn't matter. The way your eyes locked together and the raw emotion displayed on your faces told an entire story on their own—one of love, trust, and vulnerability. It was a conversation without words that could be understood by anyone who had ever experienced connection as powerful as Tsaheylu.

Your chest tightened at the undeniable joy that illuminated Lo'ak's face. His eyes sparkled with pure elation, and you were sure your face mirrored the exact same expression.

You were one—mated for life—and you couldn’t be happier.

The concept of time seemed to vanish into thin air as you remained entwined, reveling in the unmatched closeness. The intimate connection enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Lo'ak's voice came as a welcome interruption to the tranquility of the moment.

"Can I say it again?”

Completely spent and practically half-asleep nestled within Lo'ak's arms, you could only muster a faint 'hmm?' in response to his question. You closed your eyes and burrowed yourself further into his embrace. He was so warm.

You felt the soft vibrations of Lo'ak's laughter within your body, resonating deep within your chest. He was well aware of how you would always go all quiet and soft after sex. He also knew that you would drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the forest, completely bare, if he let you. He wasn’t going to let you.

"That I love you," he murmured, reaching out to tuck your hair back in place behind your ear. His fingers continued their journey to the nape of your neck, where they lovingly grazed the wispy hairs there. His touch was unimaginably delicate and tender; it was almost unbearable.

"Are you planning to ask for my permission every single time you want to say it?" You asked sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile at the thought. You knew deep down that he would actually do it, and his response only solidified your conviction.

"If you want me to," he replied genuinely, his voice almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes, only to roll them at the earnest expression painted across his face, despite the way his words made your heart flutter. He was so endearing, so fucking adorable, you wanted to tease him for it. To be honest, you couldn't pinpoint when the shift happened—the moment he evolved from your foolhardy best friend into the still foolhardy, but also tender-hearted and affectionate man laid out before you.

"You don't have to," you began softly, stretching out your arm to take hold of Lo'ak's hand.

Slowly, you guided his hand towards yourself, pressing his open palm directly over your chest. Right over the rhythmic beat of your heart.

"I can feel it. In here," you whispered to him, making sure to emphasize the sincerity of your words by giving his hand a gentle yet meaningful squeeze. For a few seconds, the two of you remained like that. Silent, the only sound being that of your racing heartbeats.

Love—the breathtakingly powerful emotion—washed over you like a tidal wave as you lay there, your heart racing in your chest. Your heart beat with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of your mutual affection. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The love was a beautifully combined force; it belonged to both you and Lo'ak equally.

The love vibrated deep within you. It surrounded you with its warmth and energy. It felt as if every fiber of your being was completely saturated with the incredible emotion, connecting the two of you with an undeniable bond. You were so deeply in love, and you knew Lo'ak could feel it just as strongly through every frantic beat of your heart.

As your hand gradually loosened its grip on Lo'ak's, his own fingers remained unwaveringly pressed against your chest, right above your heart. He seemed entranced, as though attempting to imprint every pulsating beat and the faintest echo of your heart beneath his palm into his memory. Time seemed to slow, as if granting him the chance to capture every minute detail.

He devoured every intricate aspect, each subtle expression that adorned you. And as Lo'ak gazed upon you with the warmest, most affectionate eyes, a tender smile of pure adoration spread softly across his lips. His entire demeanor conveyed a simple yet profound message—one that spoke of love and devotion beyond anything imaginable.

“You know I’m still gonna say it,” Lo’ak declared with a wide, boyish grin. “Every single day, for the rest of my life.”

The warmth that filled the air between you intensified as his grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer to him as if trying to physically absorb the moment. His lips brushed against your temple in a slow, lingering kiss that seemed to carry the weight of his vow.

He meant what he said, and you knew that without a doubt.

You reveled in the feeling of his breath on your skin and the steady heartbeat that echoed against your chest. The simple pleasure was enough to make you giddy with happiness about the prospect of your future together.

As if reading your thoughts, Lo’ak squeezed you gently and whispered those cherished words into your ear over and over again, like a promise.

end

Taglist <3:

@vanillawhale, @strawberryclouds22, @countryandsweetbabygirl, @kurogxrix, @yunonaneko, @ahsatan785, @lauratstrange, @lwesodra, @kaealowri, @starboyloak, @thefirst-ofus

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak smut #lo'ak smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2022 #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo’ak #lo'ak fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic

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